The Extinction Switch: Book three of the Kato's War series

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The Extinction Switch: Book three of the Kato's War series Page 6

by Broderick, Andrew C.


  “It’s a beautiful city, but it looks like a war zone,” Kassandra yelled.

  Antonio wore his usual stony expression, and remained silent, his eyes tracing the ridge line along the roof as it went out from above them to the next arch. Behind them were escalators that led up another forty meters, to the top level of the mound. From there, a vast pillar, identical to the others, rose into the sky. A fistfight broke out between three men on the escalator, about halfway up. One of them went flying backwards, knocking down people behind. The escalator stopped. The soldiers nearest to it ran upwards, towards the instigators, knocking more people flying. They were promptly handcuffed, and the stairway restarted so they could be transported to the top. Three gunshots echoed from the streets below in rapid succession. Elevator cars disgorged people who had descended through the pillar from the sky level, bearing as many possessions as they could carry. They flooded down the escalators and crammed onto the already packed level on which Antonio and the girls stood, waiting for subway cars to take them underground. The crowd pushed and shoved. Men growled. Women and children cried. A plastic bag split open, spilling its contents, mainly clothes, onto the ground. They were trampled underfoot.

  “The voice of the devil is heard in our land!” shouted a bald man in white robes, five meters to their left, straining to be heard above the din. He held a brown Bible aloft in his right hand. It was embossed with a gold cross. “The End Times have come, just as the book of Revelation foretold! Repent now!”

  “Let’s get back to the apartment while we still can!” Annabelle yelled. “This is crazy!” They turned back towards the subway doors and tried to push their way through, without success. They moved towards the entrance little by little as new cars arrived and passengers in front of them spilled in. It was then their turn to be crushed by the weight of people behind them. They were only halfway to the doors when Annabelle began to turn beet red. “Help!” she mouthed, wide-eyed at Antonio. The pressure on her chest was such that she couldn’t breathe. Antonio strained against the crush of bodies to make it a meter to his right.

  Once there, he put one arm across Annabelle’s chest and one across her back, and slowly forced his arms apart, to relieve the pressure on her. She inhaled deeply. “Stand side-on!” he yelled into her ear. It’ll crush your ribcage less!”

  Annabelle worked her way around ninety degrees, until she was facing him, her forehead covered with sweat. Her face was already regaining its normal color. “Thank you!” she yelled. Antonio savored this moment: an embrace, albeit forced by circumstances, with the girl he wanted badly. Being crushed by the crowd had its advantages. Twenty minutes later, they finally made it into a subway car just before the doors closed. Then it was black outside again, as it headed downwards, past the derelict shopping mall and the station that looked like it was full of zombies.

  “Why are there people in there if it’s closed?” Kassandra said, to Annabelle, as she held onto a strap above her head. Two strangers’ hands also held the same strap.

  “People are entering the city on foot through the train tunnels, to avoid gangs of bandits roaming the countryside,” a man next to her said.

  A few minutes later, the subway car disgorged its passengers onto Rue Borchal. “Holy crap!” Kassandra said, exhaling hard, as they exited.

  “Oh my God, that was unreal!” Antonio said. “I knew things were getting bad, but…”

  “Let’s walk,” Annabelle said, in a serious tone. She looked at the others as they set off. “Society’s becoming unglued. It’s really not surprising when you think that everybody in the world’s been given six months to live.” Two police cars whooshed by, lights flashing. A few minutes later, they had worked their way around the ever growing number of tents on the sidewalk, and turned left onto Rue Delacort. People were now setting up homes on its sidewalks too. They were soon back to unit 11789. Knock, knock. Vivianne opened the door.

  “It’s unbelievable!” Annabelle blurted to Vivianne, as soon as they were inside. “The place is tearing itself apart. It’s a war zone!”

  David and Vivianne’s bedroom door opened, and David came out. “What’s going on?” They related what they had seen. David sighed and ran his fingers through his thinning hair. “Oh, God.”

  ----

  Kato, Korolev, and General Phillips examined the midair projection, which took up almost the entire war room. It showed a machine. Its outside shape was not dissimilar to a car’s engine. However, it was much more complex: pipes, circular openings, flexible hoses, villi, spheres, and blocky, flat surfaces adorned its exterior. It was partly transparent, and different systems within it were shown in red, yellow and blue. The men wandered around and through it, examining every part in utter fascination. “It’s genius,” Kato said. “My nanotech knowledge is very out of date now, but I can tell that whoever designed this thing was brilliant. It’s the most effective killing machine ever invented.” The other men nodded.

  “Looks like this part”—Korolev pointed to a part that took up almost a quarter of its volume—“is the factory, where it self-replicates. In fact, if you look right there, it’s got a 3D printing head, and an open space for partly completed copies of itself. Up here is an intake and processing plant that takes nutrients from its environment and converts them into minerals, which get fed to the fabricator. Waste products get ejected from here.” He pointed to a port on the outside.

  “So, about three quarters of the internal volume is devoted to replication,” Kato said. “How does it actually attack its victims?”

  “That’s the really clever part.” He pointed to a small unit near the top. “This is the radio receiver. Once it gets the encoded signal, the factory is repurposed. It makes a saw blade. It starts out being rolled around that spindle, there”—he indicated an object that looked like a rolling pin, below the receiver—“then when it’s ready, the right hand side splits off. The knife unfurls and begins sawing away at the victim’s insides.” The other men flinched. “With millions of these things working together, complete organ failure ensures, and death comes quickly after that.”

  “My God,” Kato said, his face blanching. “It does exactly what Seung Yi said it does, and with ruthless efficiency. It leeches off whatever——or whoever—hosts it, to replicate. They then infect others. Nobody is any the wiser, since there are no symptoms.”

  “That,” Korolev said, jabbing a finger towards the machine, “is why there was a nanoweapons treaty. Nuclear, biological, or chemical can’t touch it for sheer deadliness.”

  “How do you suppose it’s activated, though?” Kato asked.

  Korolev’s eyes narrowed. “It gets a radio signal, probably highly encrypted.”

  “I get the radio signal part,” Kato said, “but a transmission from Vesta would be very weak when it reached Earth. Too much so to be picked up by something that tiny.”

  “There are probably repeaters somewhere near Earth,” Korolev said. “They’ll be small, stealthy, and placed in high orbits. Hence, impossible to find.”

  Kato sighed. “So, we’ve figured out how his ‘Extinction Switch’ works. But, what can we do about it?”

  “We can’t block transmissions from something whose location we have no clue about, on an unknown frequency,” Korolev said. General Phillips followed the exchange between the two men like a tennis match, his eyes bouncing from one to the other.

  “What if it has an ‘off’ switch?” Kato said. “A feature to permanently disable it, on receipt of a different transmission? We could send it that code somehow, and render it harmless.”

  “We’d have to figure out the key,” Korolev said. “It’s probably several megabytes long. The mechanism, if it even exists, will be extremely well protected.”

  “Well, every possible resource at ISI will be put on it,” Kato said. “I expect the Pentagon has already come to the same conclusions, so we’ll try and work together with them, and see if we can’t figure out how to disable the damn thing before the six months
are up. Well, five months and three weeks now.”

  “In tandem with the effort to blow Vesta up?” Korolev said.

  “Of course.” Kato sighed. “On a related note, I’ve decided to use some of ISI’s ships for the Mars evacuation.”

  “Is that so?” Phillips said.

  “Well, Seung Yi has to think we’re at least trying our best to get everyone off there. But, I’m still giving the Pentagon first dibs on the ships. I’ll only use whichever ones aren’t needed for the attack.”

  ----

  There was a knock at the front door. David answered, peering past the unshaven man in front of him at the burgeoning refugee camp in the street. “Yes?”

  “Have you got any room to spare?” the man asked plaintively. He wore a brown bathrobe.

  “No, sorry.”

  “But, I know these are two bedroom units. Surely? Please?”

  “We’re using both of them, and we have guests. There’s no room at the inn. Sorry.”

  “S’okay.” The downcast man shuffled off to the next apartment.

  After a last look around outside, David closed the door. “I guess you three were lucky,” he called into the living room to Antonio, Annabelle and Kassandra, on his way past. “You beat the masses in getting underground.” He then headed back into his bedroom and closed the door.

  The three friends were conversing in hushed, strained tones. “I’m afraid of what’s gonna happen when they find out I’m not French,” Kassandra said. “I’m not sure where I’ll go.”

  “Me too,” Antonio said. “I expect we’ll be deported.”

  A half hour later, there was another knock. “Viv,” David hollered from the bedroom.

  “You answer it,” she replied from the kitchen.

  “Grrr,” David grumbled, as he walked down the hall. He opened the door slightly. Two women stood there, a mother and her grown daughter. “Please could you take us in?”

  “No, sorry, there’s no room.”

  “Please, I’m begging you sir...” the younger woman tried to jam her foot in the door, but David closed the door before she could. After that, the knocking never stopped.

  “Muni alert… red this time…” Vivianne mumbled, while feeding Etienne. She had seen the light on the countertop flashing. She waved her hand over it to bring up the midair display. Its normal cool blue was replaced by large, flashing red text. It read: WARNING! A BREAKAWAY FACTION OF THE ARMY IS INVADING THE UNDERGROUND SECTION OF LYON, DISPLACING RESIDENTS FROM THEIR HOMES. AFFECTED AREAS ARE CURRENTLY CENTER WEST AND NEAR NORTH. POLICE AND ARMY ARE RESPONDING.

  Vivianne blinked twice, and clapped a hand to her mouth. “Center West! That’s us!” she screamed. “David! David! There’s going to be a war! Down here!” He was there within seconds.

  He scanned the text. “Oh, my God! What do we do? Any idea if they’re near here yet?”

  “No.”

  “I’ll take a look outside. Don’t open the door unless it’s me.” He exited the apartment. Rue Delacort was now awash with a steady stream of wandering people. The sidewalk was becoming more jammed with makeshift tents by the minute.

  “When will this end?” the voices said. “Jesus, help us!”

  David pushed his way down the block to the intersection with Rue Borchal. He rounded the corner to the right, and looked down past the tent city. Bright lights headed towards him at speed. They belonged to a large, black armored vehicle. “This area is now under the control of the New People’s Republic of France!” a loudspeaker boomed. “You are to give up your housing units. The evacuation will be done in an orderly fashion.” Screams rose as people on the sidewalk stampeded down Rue Borchal, some making a left onto Rue Delacort.

  “Oh shit!” David ran back up the street through the swarm and pounded on the door. “Viv! Viv! Let me in!” The lock clicked. He barged in, almost knocking Vivianne over, and slammed the door behind him. “It’s for real! They’re coming!” he panted.

  Vivianne turned white. “What do we do? There’s nowhere else to go!” She turned around. “Etienne!” She scooped up the toddler, whose chubby mouth was covered in chocolate pudding. An ashen faced Annabelle appeared at the living room door. Her panicked eyes scanned from David to Vivianne and back again.

  Stunned silence reigned for a moment. “Prepare to fight,” David growled. “Get anything you can use, kitchen knives, anything. Let’s try and barricade the door.” He ran back into the kitchen and reemerged, huffing and puffing, carrying the solid wood kitchen table, on its end with its top towards him. The others backed into the living room to let him past. David grunted with effort as he moved it the six meters to the front door. He set it down on its legs, and then tipped it on its side so its top was facing the door. “These aren’t strong front doors. Hopefully this’ll help a bit.”

  The stark words from the loudspeaker got closer: “This area is now under the control of the New People’s Republic of France. All shops and homes are being appropriated. Prepare to evacuate in an orderly fashion.”

  “Oh my God! This surely can’t be happening!” Vivianne said.

  David blinked a few times. “Get the knives, someone! Let’s gather right here in the hall, and be ready.” Annabelle hurried off to the kitchen. Vivianne took Etienne into her bedroom. “Hide under the bed, baby. You remember hide and go seek?” Blank stare. “Oh well. Just stay here. Don’t come out for anything. You understand?”

  “Yes, maman.”

  Everyone but Antonio was in the hall, with black plastic-handled, serrated kitchen knives in hand. They varied in length. David craned his neck into the living room. Antonio cowered in the far back corner. “Get out here, pretty boy,” David growled. “We’re all going to fight.” Antonio took a deep breath and made his way out into the hall, where he was handed a paring knife. He hung at the back of the group, who were all facing the crudely barricaded door. “Don’t be afraid to use these, everyone. If they turf us out, we’ll have nowhere else to go. This is our home.”

  “Should I pack some things just in case?” Vivianne panted.

  “Nope,” David said firmly. “That’ll instill the wrong mentality. There is no backup plan. Failure is not an option.”

  “But, Dave…” she protested.

  “No!” Annabelle looked over at Vivianne with raised eyebrows. Vivianne looked sorrowfully back. The unspoken communication between them continued for several seconds. Kassandra looked at the door, her jaw set, her knife poised in a stabbing grip. She changed her face back to being disguised. Antonio ran the serrated knife edge over his left forefinger, examining it.

  Etienne began to crawl out from under the bed, towards the agitated group. “No! Get back under and stay there!” Vivianne said angrily, pushing the child back. Whimpers were heard from Etienne, as was a babble of voices from outside. Some were raised. The loudspeaker’s warning was heard again, more loudly this time.

  A few seconds later, a woman’s screams and shouts, much louder, but in the distance. “No! No! This is my home! Please, sir, let me stay! I have nowhere else to go!”

  “They’re on our street now,” David said, in a low voice. “But why are they clearing everybody out?”

  “Probably moving their buddies in, so they can escape the Extinction Switch,” Annabelle said. Kassandra tensed her body and gritted her teeth. More screams. A man yelling, slightly closer this time. Then, a gunshot rang out. The last yelling male voice ceased.

  “Oh my God,” Vivianne said, turning even whiter.

  David sighed. “They’re not afraid to use deadly force. Still, I’m not giving in without a fight.”

  “Dave, think about the baby! What use will it be if her parents are dead?” Vivianne protested. He didn’t move a muscle, but continued his fixed stare at the door. The harrowing sounds of screaming, crying, scuffling, struggling, things crashing and breaking, and running footsteps got closer.

  “Do you think the government’s army will save us? Assuming there still is one?” Antonio said.


  “Not likely,” David said.

  Next door was now being ransacked. A woman’s shrieking voice was heard. “No! No! No!”

  “Poor Maude,” Vivianne said, clapping her hand to her mouth.

  At last, the rap on the door. “Open up now! You are ordered to evacuate this property, by the authority of the Captain of the New People’s Republic of France. You have ten minutes to leave.”

  “Shhh!” David said. Everyone was poised to strike. Silence from outside. The knock came one more time. Then there was a word that nobody could make out, followed by an almighty, ear-splitting crash. The door buckled inwards and was torn from its frame as the business end of a black battering ram appeared. The tabletop split in half. The two legs on which it leaned broke, and the pieces fell to the floor. Strips of metal from the door frame flew inward. Two soldiers, dressed in black, and wearing helmets with face visors could be seen. They brandished a clear riot shield in their left hands, and an automatic weapon in the right. Several rounds flashed from their muzzles and smashed into the ceiling of the hall. Exploding plaster and dust fell on the occupants. Vivianne screamed and dove into Etienne’s bedroom. Annabelle, Kassandra and Antonio dove into the living room for cover.

  Only David stood firm, knife in hand. “This is my house! You have no right to take it!”

  The nearest soldier, grim-faced, stepped over the smashed door, and knocked David flying backwards with a blow from his shield. David dropped the knife as he landed on his back with a nasty thud, his head almost in the kitchen. The soldier stood over the prone man, put his left boot on David’s chest, and pressed the muzzle of his gun against David’s forehead. “You now have five minutes.” Without moving the gun barrel, he looked back outside to his colleague. He flicked his head to the left. The other soldier nodded and proceeded to the next apartment. Vivianne peeked out from Etienne’s room and screamed on seeing the scene in the hallway.

 

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