The Sentient Collector (The Sentient Trilogy Book 1)

by Ian Williams

  “Say Hi to Jane and Alex for me. Tell them we’ll be back soon, so stay by the phone,” he said, fully aware of how out of date the saying was these days. Nobody had a phone anymore, everything electrical was capable of communicating with anyone, anywhere. At least anywhere within the city. Outside was free of such conveniences – including any real law.

  “Good luck,” Elliot replied.

  The screen went blank a moment later, returning them to near darkness. Thankfully the light had followed the rail-cart all the way up the tunnel that stretched away into the distance. They were only small mining style lights, one every ten metres or so. Nothing larger was really necessary when only grains and crops travelled such a route.

  The rail-cart had come to a stop automatically and now waited for them to enter. It would be tight, but with no lid or roof it would be doable. He would have to duck his head and keep an eye out for the lights as they passed overhead of course. He threw the tablet inside with little thought of damaging it. Petra would not be getting it back anyway. Next he swung his leg over the side and climbed in. Ruth joined him and then came the awkward bit, squeezing in.

  “Try side by side,” Ruth said. She sat down and left him a space that was half the size he actually needed. “Now what?”

  In the end Graham chose to crouch with his head peeking out over the front of the cart. Over his shoulder he said, “I guess we wait.”

  He saw no levers to activate it or any control panel nearby. Once again it seemed the whole process was normally autonomous. He predicted it was done by weight, once enough had been loaded on board it would move off. Except that only made sense at the other end. So something else was needed.

  A jerk and a heavy jolt knocked him backward as the cart set off by itself. He fell onto his sister, who took his weight like a punch to the gut. She let out an almost breathless shout and pushed him off.

  “Sorry Ruth,” he said while clambering to his crouching position again.

  “Jesus G, lose some weight.”

  They were then off and heading into a low-roofed tunnel that was sure to cause a few bouts of claustrophobia along the way. It at least moved at a decent enough speed. By his estimate they would get to the farming tower in less than 30 minutes, if that was indeed their destination.

  * * *

  “For the love of God, will you people get away from there!” Kristof had completely lost his temper this time.

  The officers he ordered out of his way had totally ignored him twice already. They were far too close to the 3D model of the shopping centre he had brought up on his table-top device. The design perfectly matched the real one in every aspect, down to the tiniest possible detail. It rose out of the plastic screen for him to look over and manipulate physically. It was too delicate to be touched by clumsy hands reaching for the hot drinks they foolishly left on his table.

  While working on their own things, the police had soon started to encroach on his space and threatened to mess everything up. His leadership was being tested to breaking point. Thankfully, the problem soon resolved itself after his outcry of frustration. Within seconds they had all left him alone to get on with his planning. His cluster of tables – or his new nest – was once again his and his alone. He could now work undisturbed.

  Everything had started to go against him. In his first few moments in charge he expected to have made some serious headway by now. Sadly that had not been the case. The press had been awkward about the overseeing of their reporting. At their most disruptive they had even taken to shoving a camera in front of his face to get something. He was not officially there. He was the man sent in to fix things, not the poster boy for someone else’s story.

  These things had to be expected, he conceded. After all, it was far from an everyday problem. The people still holed up inside the shopping complex were dealing with entities the public hardly knew a thing about. MARCs were only ever reported on in the news when one got into something important, like the Mag-Lev network. Even then it was treated in the same way a program fault would be, rather than a highly malicious, albeit fledgling, AI.

  There had been a sudden turn for the worse the moment the terrorists had sent out a string of code over the power relay’s data network. The same thing had flashed up on every wrist screen and tablet within the proximity of the complex. It surely was no coincidence that this was soon followed by an influx of MARCs?

  He was seeing more of them in one place than he had ever heard of before. Each one was exploring the electrical equipment around them, searching for something, until eventually entering the shopping centre. This had caused another panic from the press as the odd interference had also frozen all of their tech. Not all bad then, Kristof thought, with a satisfying amount of spite.

  What he worked on, more through panic than foresight, was a plan to enter the building and bring the chaos to a final end. There had been no more communication with the lead terrorist since their first chat, which made him jumpy. Plus his two main suspects, Elliot Sumner and Graham Denehey, were nowhere to be seen. He guessed they had possibly already done their part and were now in hiding. They would remain the top suspects for the foreseeable future.

  Turning his attention back to the shopping centre, he considered his last talk with the lead terrorist. The guy in charge surely knew they were never going to send him transport out of there? If that was true then there was always going to be another way out. This worried him immensely. He would never live it down if he let them disappear suddenly.

  The police presence had been constant, placing a certain level of pressure on those inside. At the front of the line was a row of officers with handguns drawn, waiting for someone to poke their head out for them to shoot. Each was understandably eager to be the first one with a kill to their name. He had made note of this earlier. If it became necessary to send a team in, they would be his first choice. Ideally a Special Forces team would be going in. Unfortunately they had not arrived yet. They had given him the excuse that they were urgently needed elsewhere.

  He studied his 3D map of the shopping centre interior and slammed his tablet down on the table. Why were there no eyes inside the building? If he could only get his hands on thermal imagery, he would know exactly how many were inside and where they were. As with everything else though, it just refused to happen as planned. Something inside the building still blocked them out. Even more so now that the scene was swarming with MARCs, like an invasion of glowing bees.

  As if someone on up high had seen he was struggling to stay on top of things, another weight was quickly added. He could see the Chief Superintendent approaching his command centre, and he had company. It was hard for him to understand why he saw see what he did. Following not far behind his counterpart was the same female reporter he had ordered away earlier; definitely not something he needed right now.

  “Mr. Rajco?” the Chief Superintendent said.

  Kristof had already chosen to focus on his 3D display rather than look at them. He hoped this would have been enough to keep them away. “I’m busy,” he replied, pinching and zooming his model of the shopping centre.

  “There’s been a development. You need to listen to what the press are hearing.” The Chief Superintendent stepped back and ushered the woman reporter through. “Go ahead, tell him,” he said.

  She was hesitant at first. Obviously she had not forgotten about Kristof’s reaction from earlier. He had shoved the cameras away, followed by a few choice words too. “It’s happening elsewhere,” she said, stopping there.

  Hearing such an absurd thing made Kristof drop everything and face her. “You’re shitting me. Where else?”

  “That’s the thing, Kristof,” the Chief Superintendent said, cutting off the reporter before she could continue. “While you’ve been wasting time with planning your insane rescue attempt, the rest of the country has seen other similar situations appear like a spreading infection. This is now much bigger than anyone knew.”

  Bollocks! Kristof thought. By a
lienating the press and keeping them at arm’s length he had missed out on this hugely important piece of news. While he juggled five things at once, from maintaining a media black-out to where best to position the police officers at his disposal, the rest of the country was seeing a nationwide terrorist operation developing on their doorsteps.

  At this much larger scale it appeared to be one that had been months, if not years, in the making. It was not simply one act of aggression, but a sustained attack on the UK’s entire infrastructure.

  “So who the hell is in charge of it all?” Kristof said. He hated having to ask others for the facts. Not knowing the most up-to-date information made him look weak.

  “No-one knows. That is why we should be communicating with those inside the building rather than readying a plan to burst in. We’ll learn nothing by simply killing them.” The Chief Superintendent removed his police hat and placed it under his armpit. He then slid a hand from the front of his head to the back.

  “I’ve tried talking to them. Going in is now our only option,” Kristof said in defence of his precious attack plan. “Besides, they aren’t answering anymore.”

  “Then I should try. I’ve humoured you for long enough. Now it’s time those who are trained in such matters took charge. Are you even listening to me?”

  He was, and he was furious – although his stare had hidden this from view. The Chief Superintendent’s words had torn through Kristof like a jagged razor blade across the skin. Regardless of whether he was right or not, it was not his place to say it. Especially in front of someone probably recording the entire exchange. He turned to the female reporter and sighed. “You’re done here,” he said, pointing back toward the rest of her leech-like friends.

  “Kristof, you can’t just order people around like this. The situation will require cooperation if we’re ever to get through it,” the Chief Superintendent said.

  He was just as bad as the rest of them, standing with his buttons all shiny and his pressed suit, acting like he owned the place. It was not going to be this way any longer. Kristof had seen the real problem he faced: police interference.

  “What are you doing now?” By now the Chief Superintendent was only able to shake his head at the loss of his counterpart’s attention.

  Kristof turned his back and remained silent as he activated a video call to his boss. He could no longer talk to the Chief Superintendent anymore. The time had come to remove this little trouble maker, once and for all. “Sir, I’ve just heard the news about the other cities encountering similar situations. I feel I have just the plan to tackle it.”

  “Over my dead body,” the Chief Superintendent said under his breath. It had been loud enough for Kristof to hear still.

  His crimson-faced boss had been angry enough during their last conversation. This time he looked completely livid with the current state of Simova’s darling network. Kristof got an accurate account of just how badly things were going the second he saw the flushed and sweating forehead of his boss.

  “No, that won’t be necessary, Kristof. We’re about to hold an emergency meeting with the rest of the board. We will decide how best to proceed and get back to you. There’s MARCs running freely around the whole country’s network. It’s chaos out there. For the time being do nothing, understand?”

  “Yes, sir. I’ll keep working on my plan while I wait,” Kristof said. He was not going to abandon it, despite what the board would eventually decide. This was his job to complete, in exactly the way he knew it had to be completed. In his mind the need for force was now more urgent than ever. Giving the terrorists the time to think would only make things worse. He was beyond the inconvenience of doubt on this. “There is one more thing, sir.”

  “Go ahead,” his boss said while he worked on something on his desk. He peered down, his eyes flicking from side to side as he read.

  “I’d like to request that we remove the Chief Superintendent for the time being.”

  “You little shit!” the Chief Superintendent said with a threatening step toward him.

  “He’s been nothing but obstructive since I arrived,” Kristof continued. “I feel the job would be easier to finish without him here.”

  With a sigh and a roll of his eyes, Kristof’s boss turned his attention back to the screen. “I see,” he said. “Put the Chief Superintendent on for me.”

  He joyfully handed his wrist screen over. Excellent, one problem solved, Kristof thought prematurely. With a swift about turn he returned his mind and his gaze to his masterfully created plan. He pictured himself lining up with the other officers, all readying themselves to blow the doors open and heroically storm inside.

  “I assure you that what Kristof has said is untrue,” the Chief Superintendent said, automatically ready to defend himself.

  “Regardless of that Chief Superintendent, things have changed drastically in the past hour. Simova can no longer handle the situation alone. Therefore, I am placing you in charge of the operation down there.”

  “What?” Kristof said as he spun around and almost lost his footing. The sudden movement sent his arm into a cup sat precariously on the edge of his table. It tumbled to the floor and shattered, along with Kristof’s hopes of furthering his career.

  “Very well, sir. I guarantee I will place the safety of the hostages above any concern for your technology though. I trust this won’t be an issue?”

  “No Chief Superintendent, that won’t be. We’re beyond such concerns now. The people trying to bring us down are doing the same to the rest of the country. This has to end at some point. Once the meeting with the board is complete we should have an overall plan to implement. You will still need to coordinate with Mr. Rajco. He understands Simova technology better than most.”

  When the call ended Kristof was left with a head emptied of all thought and an aching heart. His chance to prove himself was being undone, and worse still, there was nothing he could really do about it. Others would surely get the job done before him and claim all the glory. His glory. They would storm the building, killing every terrorists and saving every hostage. The bastards, he thought. How dare they rain on the parade he already planned for himself.

  By now the news was probably already spreading among his people too. He expected Bridget would call next with a plan of her own. He never trusted her not to stab him in the back the moment the opportunity came around. No, she won’t be allowed the chance, he thought. Neither would anyone else, not even the now smug looking Chief Superintendent.

  Despite what he had been told, he would go ahead as planned. Then they could all thank him for finding the only real option they had. Force always trumped rhetoric in his opinion.

  “Someone get me an update on the Special Forces team,” the Chief Superintendent said. “I want to know how far away they are.” He looked about to see if anyone was doing as he asked. They were not – including Kristof. “You,” he called to a female officer running by.

  “Yes, sir,” the woman asked. She adjusted her shirt, pulling any visible creases flat.

  “Get on to the Special Forces team and find out when they can be here.”

  “Sir? We’ll be going in there?”

  “Absolutely not. They’re the last resort. Nobody goes anywhere near that building, understand me? We need to build a rapport with those in command of the terrorists, not force them to kill the hostages.”

  The woman officer ran off with a new level of gusto to her movements. Her new job was hugely important. She carried away the pin to the metaphorical grenade Kristof’s plan had been handed.

  But the Chief Superintendent was far from finished. “Kristof,” he said. “Please inform everyone that I am now in charge. Do that and then go talk to the press.”

  Heat rose up through Kristof’s core. It tried its best to escape by means of his face, which reddened in response. I’ll burn the whole building down before I let them or you destroy that power relay, he thought to himself. “I’d be happy to. Whatever you need,” he replied.


  * * *

  As soon as the cart stopped, Graham leapt out and looked around in confusion. They had been travelling a while, though for much less time than required to reach the farming towers. Ahead stretched a seemingly endless tunnel that continued on as far as the eye could see. It was the same behind them too. They were stuck between the two points of civilisation connected by this route.

  He helped Ruth out of the cart and they both turned to the tablet device Graham had thrown in earlier. To their shared horror it was dead. Exactly as they would be soon, if they could not find a way out. This far underground they would find no help at all. If they could not reach the end by morning then they faced the very disturbing reality of having to dodge speeding rail-carts.

  Worryingly, there was no space to do that. Normal operation would resume in the morning and would only stop when an inevitable blockage then occurred. Only then would their mangled bodies be found, crushed by a metal bucket hurtling along at literally break-neck speed.

  “This is bad, this is really bad,” Ruth said, pacing the small area from wall to wall. She placed a hand on her hip and the other across her forehead. It was cold too. Whenever she spoke her words were accompanied by a white puff of condensation that floated away like smoke. Her next inhalation was a heavy one as well, creating the look of someone who was fighting a ten D-Stim hit-a-day habit. “This was a stupid idea. Stupid.”

  With the tablet device providing no help at all he tossed it to the floor. It landed with a loud cracking sound. No power was getting through to them so far down. He could not even shrink the tablet to its wrist screen size and place it safely in his pocket. Without it there was no way to send their location to Elliot now. They had to find another way.

  “There has to be something down here. What’s the point in trapping us? It makes no sense.” Graham leaned his palm on the side wall of the tunnel and flicked a stone out of his shoe with the other. At least they had room to stand, he was thankful for that.