Helpless and flat on his back, Kane watched the ceiling light fixtures float by in slow motion. Dust particles hung frozen in midair, reflected in the floodlights. It was a phenomenon he had experienced only a couple of times in his life, the first when he was in a car wreck as a teen, and the second when he stormed a nest of terrorists in a crazed rush to rescue some of his men. Each of those times, he knew he was at death’s door. This time, he was certain that death had finally caught up with him. Closing his eyes, he searched for a pleasant memory. His sister Madeline came to mind. She was laughing, sitting across the table from him in their favorite pastry shop, a white frosting mustache on her upper lip. He held this image of his sister in his mind; he would carry it into his death. Sensing the bright sunlight through his closed eyelids, he received its warmth as a farewell kiss from the sun just before being swallowed by the serpent. He relaxed his body, accepting the end.
But death did not come. The sunlight remained, warming his face. Somewhere behind him, the serpent screamed in a high-pitched, agonized tone. Deafeningly loud to anyone else, it sounded muted and distant to Kane. Cracking his eyelids, he saw the hangar ceiling, sun streaming in from the open hangar door just beyond his line of sight. The serpent’s wails stopped abruptly, and Kane was left with the sound of his own breathing. He became vaguely aware of a silver robot standing next to him, cutting him away from the sticky tongue with a laser. Another robot joined the first and, within a minute, they were helping him down to the floor, chunks of serpent tongue still attached to his hair and clothes. The robots carefully burned the remaining residue from his back, then moved on to assist another survivor. He stood alone, wobbly and disoriented.
Charly slammed into Kane and he grunted. Wrapping her arms around his midsection, she buried her head in his chest. He returned her hug, and they held each other as her presence pulled him the rest of the way out of his death trance.
4
Day 1
1500 hours
A hangar in Alto Raun
“What happened?” Kane finally asked.
Charly pointed. A translucent force field vibrated in place of the hangar door. “It cut off the end of its tongue,” she explained, wincing.
Beyond the force field was the open sea; all signs of the runway and the serpent were gone. The force field flickered abruptly, then disappeared. A humid, tropical ocean breeze washed into the hangar and over Kane. He breathed deeply of the fresh air.
“You OK?” Captain Tygert asked, coming to his side.
“Looks like I can take a lickin’ and keep on tickin’.”
The captain smiled. “Glad you’re still with us.” He turned to Charly. “You OK, young lady?”
“Yes, sir.”
The captain noticed a group of robots forming at the wall next to the hangar door. Leaving Kane and Charly, he marched toward the gathered robots, bellowing, “Who’s in charge? I want some answers!”
Kane and Charly followed him. Hidden inside the cluster of robots, they found the golden robot facing the wall, frozen in place.
“What happened here?” the captain asked.
A silver robot responded. “The Director generated a remote polarity field, and it has depleted his internal power supply.”
Kane moved around the circle to get a better look and discovered that one of the robot’s gold fingers was plugged into a receptacle in a control panel on the wall. This robot had saved his life.
“Is he dead?” Charly asked, the same question that was in Kane’s mind.
“No,” the robot said. “His power supply can be restored at the central tower.”
“This is an outrage.” Marshall Drummond, the business tycoon, had joined them, his expensive suit marred with dust from at least one good tumble to the floor. “Clearly, you were not sufficiently prepared. And your shield . . . thing wasn’t strong enough. I hold you personally respon—”
The silver robot cut him off. “The resistance of an atomic polarity field increases in direct proportion to the energy of the opposing force. In simple terms, it absorbs the opposing energy and converts it into its own. Thus, the Leviathan’s attacks would always be sufficiently countered by the nature of the field itself. The Leviathan did not break through the field due to our lack of preparation. The field failed for some reason as yet unknown to us.”
Marshall’s face turned red and he glared at the robot. Kane made a mental note to keep an eye on Marshall.
A self-propelled flatbed vehicle pressed its way through the crowd. Several silver robots disconnected the golden robot from the control panel and carefully laid him on his back on the flatbed; then they moved away toward the back of the hangar.
Before the throng could disperse, Captain Tygert confronted the silver robot. “Who’s in charge?”
“In the absence of the Director, I am in charge.”
“And who are you?”
“I am the supervisor.”
Turning from the captain, the supervisor addressed the gathered robots in a series of mechanical tones, giving them instructions in a robotic language. The robots withdrew and separated into two groups. The supervisor started to join them but the captain blocked his way. Kane stood with him.
“I want some answers,” the captain said.
“The Professor will explain everything to you when we return to the central tower.”
“Why can’t you tell me?”
“I am not programmed to receive you. It is the role of the Professor to receive you.”
“Then I demand to see him immediately.”
“The mobile imaging platform is not functional at this time. You will need to speak to the Professor in the central tower. I will take you there as soon as we have secured our perimeter. It will not take long.” The supervisor stepped around him and joined the work teams.
The captain turned to Kane and shook his head, visibly frustrated by the brush-off.
“We’re gonna have to let this one play out, Captain.”
“Yeah . . . it’s not like I can call his boss.”
“Captain,” Sam, the copilot, yelled from deeper in the hangar.
Tygert waved back, then turned back to Kane. “Can you gather these folks and bring them back to the group?”
“Sure. We’ve got it. You go.”
Captain Tygert went and joined his crew. Kane looked at Charly and asked, “How ’bout we work together?” She nodded her agreement.
As the two of them looked for stragglers, Kane also watched the silver robots. Their structural design was impeccable, their movements fluid, very much like a human. One team carved up the serpent’s tongue into large chunks and pushed them into the sea, while the other team built a makeshift hangar door with the same metal plates they had used to construct the runway. He could tell they were stronger than a human man, and he decided he would not want to face one in hand-to-hand combat. Other than when following an occasional command barked by the supervisor in their robotic language, all the robots appeared to be making autonomous decisions, even the non-humanoid ones. How do they distinguish the supervisor from the other silver robots? Kane wondered. But when he looked closely, he found that the backlight of their eyes varied in color—the supervisor had white eyes, the disposal crew had blue eyes, and the assembly crew had green eyes. The eye color denotes function.
Just then, the power returned and the lights flickered overhead, illuminating the corridor to the back of the hangar. Leading a small group of stragglers, Kane and Charly joined the others deeper in the hangar.
The passengers were not in good shape. Dusty, tearstained cheeks marked almost every face. Several small groups had formed, holding each other for comfort. Others wandered aimlessly, looking dazed. A woman had collapsed to the floor in her grief, sobbing in the arms of a stranger who was trying to console her. Some had started brushing the dust off one another’s clothes and hair. The sight reminded Kane of a post–bomb-attack scene.
Kane and Charly found Captain Tygert with his flight crew; they
were counting heads.
“How many did we lose?” Kane asked.
“We think twenty, maybe twenty-one,” Sam said, wiping sweat and dust from his eyes. “But we need to confirm.” Holding the plane’s manifest, he did his best to call the passengers to attention and perform a roll call.
“They were here just minutes ago,” a distraught young flight attendant said to no one in particular. I can still see their faces. Now . . . just like that . . . they’re gone.” She looked to each of her crewmates, tears welling in her eyes. “Those people, our plane, our luggage . . . it’s all gone. Everything is gone.”
An older flight attendant took the young attendant in her arms, and the girl burst into quiet sobs.
The captain regarded the grieving passengers with a pained expression; then he looked pointedly at each member of his flight crew. “We’re going to keep everyone together,” he said firmly. “We’re gonna do our best to keep them safe. And we’re gonna find this professor guy and get some answers.”
A faint humming sound began to resonate in the hangar and slowly grew louder. “What is that?” the captain asked.
“It’s them.” Charly pointed.
The robots had stopped working and were assembled at the hangar door. Standing shoulder to shoulder, they gazed out to the open sea. All traces of the serpent’s tongue were gone, and the replacement door was leaning against the wall ready to be moved into place. They had started in unison, but their humming had evolved into varied tones. Discordant at first, the tones modulated, finally finding a harmonious blend.
“They’re singing,” Charly said.
Kane looked over the passengers. They had calmed, mesmerized by the robotic chorus.
The robot song peaked in volume and held there, slowly undulating through several chordal changes over the course of a minute or so. Then the volume gradually faded and the harmonies fell away until finally they returned to a unison note, followed by an abrupt, synchronized ending.
The robots immediately dispersed into two groups. One began moving the makeshift hangar door into place, and the other, led by the supervisor, approached the passengers. He passed by the captain without so much as a glance. Outraged, Captain Tygert ran to head off the supervisor. The entire entourage of robots stopped when the captain confronted him.
“Wait a minute! You haven’t given us any information. Twenty-one of our people have died. Where are you taking us, and how do I know we’ll be safe?”
“We are taking you to the central tower. I assure you, it is safe there. The Professor will answer your questions.”
“We need food and water, medical supplies, and bathroom facilities.”
“We have prepared food and drink, and other resources and accommodations designed for humans at the central tower. Will you follow us?” The supervisor waited for a response. The captain looked over the passengers, stopping at Kane. Kane nodded, confirming that they didn’t have a choice.
“OK,” the captain said.
Without another word, the supervisor started toward the back of the hangar. The captain waved the passengers forward and reminded them to buddy up. Everyone fell into step behind the robots.
“A robot of few words,” the captain said, coming alongside Kane. “What do you make of all this?”
Kane ran a hand through his disheveled, dusty hair and brushed it off on his pants. “I feel like I’m livin’ in a Japanese sci-fi movie.”
“More like a horror flick. Problem is, it’s real. And I’m feeling out of control here. Not the way I like to roll.”
“Captain,” Kane said, getting his attention. “With the exception of the serpent attack, our coming here is not an accident, which is neither comforting nor cause for concern, but my gut says these robots are not a threat. We just need to stay together, remain alert, and let this thing play out.”
“I agree.” He looked Kane up and down. “You’re military, aren’t you?”
“I was. You too. Your landing on that floating runway was masterful. Where did you learn to fly?”
“Thanks. I flew from a carrier doing combat flights in the invasion of Iraq. What about you?”
“I joined just before the Gulf War and did special missions over the next twenty years. I left a couple years ago and went into consultant work; survival training.”
“Sounds like the perfect guy to have on our plane.”
“I’ll help however I can. But”—Kane gave him a casual salute—“you’re the captain.”
The captain smiled. “Call me Tygert.” Then he left to check on the passengers.
———
Since starting their march to the back of the hangar, Kane had noticed that Charly kept glancing over at him, as if there was something she wanted to say.
“What?” he finally asked.
“Nothing,” she said.
“No, out with it.”
She stopped walking and put a hand to her mouth. Kane could tell she was struggling with her emotions. He stopped beside her.
“What is it, Charly?”
Turning her face away. “It’s . . . nothing.”
“Tell me.”
She glanced back at him, tearing up. “As I watched that monster drag you away . . . all I could think about was my parents waving good-bye.” The tears started running down her cheeks.
Gently, Kane asked, “What happened?”
“They pulled out of the driveway . . .” She dropped her head and scrunched her shoulders.
“And?”
“They never came back. They died in a car wreck.” Her tears turned into a sob. Kane took her in his arms.
“I’m so sorry, Charly. So sorry.”
A minute later, she pulled away. “Yeah, well,” she said, wiping at the tears with her shirtsleeve. “It’s OK. I live with my grandparents now.” She sniffled. “I was on my way to Vancouver to see my other grandparents . . . and visit my parents’ graves. This weekend will be a year.”
Kane was silent, reminded of his own painful story.
Charly looked up at him questioningly.
“Well, you need to know something about me,” he said.
“What?”
“I’m pretty hard to get rid of.”
Her face brightened. “I can see that.” Then she grabbed his arm and pulled him forward to catch up with the others.
As they walked, Kane thought about his response to Charly. He was generally uncomfortable around teens, probably because he’d skipped being a teenager himself. His father had left when he was ten, and they’d never heard from him again. His mom had worked various part-time jobs and suffered from depression. He’d had no choice but to jump from childhood straight to adulthood, managing school, part-time jobs, and taking care of his mom and sister. The one ray of sunlight in that season of his life was his little sister, Maddie. She’d adored her big brother and he’d done everything he could to allow her to be a typical teenager. And now, here was Charly. Kane got a knot in his stomach, thinking that any attachment to her was probably going to hurt before this crazy adventure was over.
It was a half-mile walk to the back wall of the hangar. The robots led the passengers through a garage-sized doorway into a subway-like tunnel that ran left to right. Dimly lit, the tunnel was divided into a wide walkway on one side and a track of some kind on the other. Once they were all in the tunnel, the robots and passengers stopped and waited, the lights flickering overhead. The hard, smooth walkway was recently cleaned, obvious from the contrasting cobwebs and dust on the wall and ceiling. It was clear to Kane that a pathway had been prepared just for them, and he was willing to bet that the building around them suffered from a severe lack of maintenance. Shortly, a headlight appeared in the tunnel to their right and a tram silently glided down the track. Reminding Kane of the terminal trams at the Chicago airport, it was composed of six lighted passenger compartments, each with seating and hand poles. As soon as it came to a stop, double doors automatically opened on each of the tram compartments.
&n
bsp; The supervisor and a dozen silver robots boarded, two in each compartment. The rest of the robots stepped aside on the walkway, making way for the humans. Spreading out, the passengers divided themselves among the six compartments. Once they were aboard, the doors closed and the tram silently eased forward into the dark tunnel ahead, the remaining robots watching them leave.
Inside the tram, the silver robots moved through the compartments, distributing water in canteen-like bottles. There was little conversation as the passengers received the water gratefully, parched from the dusty air. Lines formed outside of bathroom stalls in the back corner of each compartment.
At a T-intersection, the tram followed a curve to the right taking them into another dark tunnel and deeper into the complex. Half a mile later, the tram exited the tunnel into a wash of bright sunlight. Kane took in the sight through squinted eyes. It was rare for him to feel a sense of awe, but he felt it now: the tram had entered an enormous biosphere. Filtered through a translucent sunroof high above, sunlight filled the entire core of the vast building. At least a mile and a half ahead of them, at the center of the city, stood a massive cylindrical skyscraper, tapering slightly every two hundred feet or so; it reached to the roof and beyond, its polished silver surface reflecting rays of sunlight.
Immediately outside the tunnel, the tram passed through a green, manicured lawn crisscrossed with walkways. The lawn ran along the base of the building they had just exited, stretching left to right as far as he could see. After crossing the lawn, the tram entered a cornfield . . . at least, that’s what it looked like to Kane. Walls of tall, green stalks stood on either side of the tram. Tipped with yellow corn peeking through leafy husks, it reminded Kane of central Indiana just before harvesttime. The cornfield extended all the way to the base of the tower ahead.
Looking back, he saw that the outer building rose five hundred feet in a sheer metallic wall to the sunroof. Encircling the entire city, it was deeply tarnished and dotted with dark, open spaces, probably once covered with glass. It looked as though it had housed a mix of offices and living apartments.
The Last City (The Ahlemon Saga Book 1) Page 4
