by Scott Baron
“Sid, while a powerful AI, was from a fleet that launched well after the attack cut him off from the outside world. I’m afraid he wouldn’t recognize him as an authentic source.”
“On his own, maybe not, but he’s not on a ship anymore. He runs Dark Side. He essentially is Dark Side, now that he’s installed in it. And that means––”
“That means that his authentication codes should be accepted. Dark Side was a top-secret facility long before the attack. He may not recognize the AI contacting him, but the base code will be familiar to him. An excellent suggestion, Daisy. This may provide us an advantage.”
“We’ll still run the other teams simultaneously,” Reggie said. “No telling if tying in to Sid will work for sure. Sid can be Plan A, and the rest of us will be Plan B.”
“What’s Plan C if neither of those succeed?” Omar asked.
“We’ll make that up when we get to it,” Shelly replied. “Let’s gear up and get moving. No sense waiting around. We’re as ready as we’re going to be.”
“Pardon me,” a silk suit-clad cyborg said, standing in the doorway. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”
“What is it, Tin Man?” Daisy replied.
“Jonathan, actually,” he said, though seemingly unoffended. “We understand you are about to partake on a daunting mission. One that could benefit all surviving AIs and help them once more link together as one. We wanted you to know how much we appreciate what you are doing, and, with Habby’s permission, several of us have volunteered to assist you in any way possible.”
“Sorry, Johnny boy, but you tin men will stand out like a sore thumb up top,” Daisy informed him.
“Normally, yes, that would be the case,” he replied. “However, Habby and Cal discussed the situation, and, after some creative retooling, Habby’s tailor bots were able to produce a few additional Faraday suits, somewhat similar to your own. They aren’t as robust, given the materials at hand, but they should suffice.”
“You willing to bet your metal skin that they’ll keep you off scans?” she asked.
“Given the importance of this mission, yes. We are all prepared for the risks involved in helping achieve the objectives.”
Tamara smiled. “A cyborg commando squad. Excellent!”
The metal man faltered. “Ah, yes. Well, you see, we’re not fighters, exactly. More like domestic assistants.”
“So, you’re butlers? Wonderful.” Tamara’s smile faded.
“We are domestic assistants, yes, but we can be of value to you. Your gear, for instance. We would be glad to carry it for you, so you can preserve your energy and be unencumbered in case of conflict.”
Tamara thought about it a moment, the smile creeping back to her face.
“Carry my bags, huh? Cool. Hang on a minute. In that case, I’m going to load up a bunch more ammo.”
The slight vibration of the air sucking out of the loop tubes lightly tingled in Daisy’s feet as she stood quietly in the vast, empty chamber. Had the usual thousands of pedestrians been walking by, as was the case prior to their untimely demise, she’d never have even noticed it. Only with the conspicuous absence of life were the underpinning machinations of the systems that powered the city noticeable.
Cal had said he wanted to have a chat with her in private before the teams departed, and while his words had settled her mind somewhat after that meeting, she nevertheless remained ill at ease as the others loaded into their transit pods.
Each team was accompanied by roughly a dozen of Cal’s people, the civilians mixing in with them before being whisked away in a supersonic burst, headed for cities across the continent.
Deep under the surface, traveling in a fast glide, there would be no electronic signature of the powered-down pods as they flew along, suspended by powerful magnets in the vacuum, which would occasionally—in a manner designed to appear random—fire a burst of energy, further propelling the craft. It was a perfectly timed system, but one that was misfiring with a purpose, so as to not catch the attention of those watching for unusual activity from above.
“Daisy, your stress levels seem elevated,” Cal had said during their discussion as the waiting teams prepared to leave. “Is everything all right? I know it is a daunting mission, but my people will look after you and provide any assistance they are able.”
Daisy wasn’t worried about the mission. Hell, she was confident in her abilities to get to Joshua even without her support team, though she was nevertheless grateful for their help. No, what had really been weighing on her was Vince. He hadn’t moved since Cal purged the infected AI from the implant in his head. He was breathing steadily, but other than that, showed no signs of improvement.
“If it is Vince you are concerned about,” Cal had said, as if sensing the cause of her worry, “you can rest assured I will keep a close eye on him and ensure his health to the best of my abilities.”
That was all she could ask for, and she had told him as much, but now that she was standing there on the platform, her comms unit strapped to her back and her sword riding with it, she couldn’t help but worry.
“He’ll be okay, Daze. Just focus on what we’ve got to do. I’ve got your back.”
Thanks, Sarah. You always do.
The vibrations in the floor ceased, and the doors to the next transit pod hissed open.
“Okay, time to go. Load up!” Tamara called out to the group of humans and the pair of over-dressed cyborgs accompanying them on the mission. “You ready, Daisy?”
“Yeah. All the other teams are away safely. Let’s get this show on the road. Or under it, as the case may be.”
No sooner had she stepped aboard than the doors slid shut and sealed with a tangible pressurization that made her ears pop.
“Everyone is on board,” Jonathan, the silk-suited cyborg, noted.
“Please take your seats and hold tight. The pod is departing in ten seconds,” Cal informed them.
With a lightning-fast pulse of energy, the electromagnets fired, sending the pod hurtling down the sealed tube. In less than a mile, they were traveling at well over the speed of sound, but in the vacuum of the loop network, of course, no sound was to be heard.
Here we go. No turning back now.
Daisy tightened her grip on the armrest of her seat and tried to relax.
She was not very successful.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Finn, Shelly, and Omar were heading up the other groups, and had departed well ahead of Daisy’s team, hoping to begin establishing contact in advance of the much-hoped-for reconnection to the massive military AI in Colorado Springs. Each of them had a specific plan, leading their small teams to different branches of the loop network, a dozen or so human assistants in tow with each of them, along with a few of Habby’s cyborg volunteers.
Reggie had opted to join Finn, as Tamara was already covering Daisy’s back on her run to reach NORAD. He figured that between the buff chick with a pair of metal arms, the tireless commando with ass-kicking metal legs, and the goofy chef with only some minor replacement parts, it was highly likely that Finn would be the one who would benefit most from the extra help.
That, and he enjoyed giving his friend grief over every little thing. Even after they arrived in Phoenix, Arizona, he continued to playfully talk smack. Whether his lighthearted ribbing was to help calm Finn’s nerves or his own was open to debate.
“You’re too loud,” Reggie hissed at his friend as he pushed a rusted door open, accessing a large intersection between loop networks.
“Blow me,” Finn retorted. “Door’s rusted. There’s nothing I could do to make it quieter.”
“You could have oiled it.”
“Are you serious? Who carries a can of––”
Reggie pulled a small, rectangular squeeze-can from his pack.
“Really? You carry oil? On a combat mission?”
“Never can tell when it’ll come in handy,” Reggie replied with a grin, squirting a few quick shots into the sticking hinges.<
br />
“Well maybe you should have listed that as one of our assets on the mission list,” Finn whispered to him as he mounted a set of stairs leading upward.
“I did. Maybe I should have shoved the list up your ass. Then you might have actually seen it. It’s the shortest way to your brain, after all.”
Finn turned and stepped face-to-face with him.
“You done?”
“I don’t know. Are you done?”
The middle-aged man leading their escort hurried to their side. “Are you both done? You two are making far too much noise. Look around. This city looks wrong. I think we may be best off calling this one a loss and moving on before things get ugly.”
“Let’s check out the top level first. We haven’t even tapped in to the main AI network yet. For all we know it may still be active,” Finn argued. “Besides, there are over a dozen of us, all armed. What could possibly––”
“Don’t say it!” Reggie cut him off.
The sound of rushing feet echoed from the distant corridors, along with primal grunts and gibberish squeals.
“You had to say it, didn’t you? You just had to say it.”
“Reg, come on, man. It’s not my fault.”
“I suggest an immediate retreat, gentlemen,” the cyborg escort at their side calmly said as the first of their would-be attackers came into view.
They were human, that much was obvious, but they were horribly misshapen and covered in filth and matted hair. On top of that, none wore so much as a stitch of clothing.
“MEEEEAAATTT!” a disembodied AI voice cried out. “MEEEAAATT, MY CHILDREN! FRESH MEEEEAAT!”
“Okay, that answers that question,” Finn said. “Run!”
Before they could make a hasty retreat, more mutated humans rushed from an adjacent corridor, charging them in a growling pack, blocking their way back to the loop pod.
“Shit! This way!” Finn called out, racing up the nearest stairs to the door far above.
The team didn’t need to be told twice, and all of them quickly followed him up to the surface. The mutants were close behind, the stench wafting off of them assaulting the group’s noses as much as their clawing hands wanted to harm their bodies.
Finn burst through the door into the open air and took off sprinting across the street, the others right behind him. He was a good ten meters from the access door when he realized where they were.
“Oh no.”
In the panic, his team had run right through a Chithiid labor team as they dismantled a nearby building.
The creatures stopped their work and stared, all four eyes blinking rapidly, utterly shocked by the sight of humans.
Clean, clothed, and armed humans at that.
Before their leader could shout orders to his compatriots, a massive horde of stinking mutants spewed out of the doors, charging wildly at anything they laid eyes on. Unfortunately for the Chithiid, they were nearest to them, and totally unprepared.
“MEEEEAAATT!” the hulking, hairy creature who was the apparent leader cried out as he leapt onto the nearest Chithiid’s back and began clawing at his flesh.
The aliens shifted their attention from the unexpected interlopers to the swarming creatures who attacked them with no fear or hesitation. Despite their size, weapons, and strength, they quickly found themselves battling for their lives against the fierce assailants.
A filth-covered male locked eyes on Finn and charged straight for him.
“Shit!” he yelled, nearly stumbling as he beat a hasty retreat, dropping the secure comms unit in his panic.
The creature was nearly upon him, when, from across the street, a pulse blast impacted it, taking it off its feet with brutal force. The lifeless corpse flopped to the ground five meters from where it had stood.
Finn scanned the chaos to pinpoint the Chithiid that had fired, but instead of an alien, he saw a cloaked figure ducking away from the melee. Something about the way it moved tickled his senses, but there was no time to pursue that thought further. Finn recognized the opportunity he had been given and seized it.
“This way!” he shouted.
He bolted across the intersection to the access stairs on the other side of the street. He just hoped all of the disgusting creatures had followed their leader up the stairway they’d just taken, otherwise they were ten kinds of screwed.
“MEEEAAT!” one of the mutants shouted, pointing at Finn’s team as they popped the door and quickly scurried down the stairs.
“Just my luck,” Finn grumbled. “Come on! Quick! Run, run!” he shouted. He needn’t have worried, though. The rest of his group were quite motivated to move as fast as their legs could carry them, despite the heavy packs they were hauling.
The group bolted down the stairs, taking them two and three at a time until they reached the level they’d first arrived on. Luck finally smiled upon them. There were no mutants to be seen anywhere, though their pounding footsteps could be readily heard in the stairwell above, getting louder every second.
“Backtrack!”
His team doubled back through the door to the tube network, yanking it shut behind them.
“Where’s the comms unit?”
“Dropped it. Nevermind that, we have a backup. Just help me jam the door!”
“But what if the aliens get it?”
“No time!”
Cal’s humans quickly grabbed whatever they could find and wedged it through the handle, bracing the door against the jamb as best they could. It rattled and groaned under the strain as the horde yanked and pulled, threatening to break it open at any moment.
“It won’t stay shut! They’re going to get through!” Reggie yelled.
“Gee, it’s a good thing someone had some frikkin’ oil with them to make it open easier, isn’t it!” Finn sharply replied. “Okay, everyone run. Back to the tube pod, as fast as you can.”
“What are you doing?” Reggie cried out.
“Buying time.”
“Don’t sacrifice yourself for us. We can do this together!”
“Sacrifice? Jesus, Reggie, seriously? We’re bottle-necked in this little corridor section. I need the rest of you to get to the pod ASAP. I’ve got this.”
“Oh. I thought––”
“Yeah, no. I’m not about to become some mutant’s lunch. I’m going to drop as many as I can when the door opens. It should cause a pile-up and confusion and slow them down, at least for a minute. Just make sure the path behind me is clear and the pod is ready to launch.”
“You got it,” Reggie said. “And, Finn, I’m really sorry about what I said.”
“Dude, you’re getting touchy-feely now? I have no intention of dying in this fucking place, so save it for later. Hopefully you’ll have plenty of time to apologize after we get the hell out of here.”
“Copy that,” Reggie said, then took off at a run for the pod. “Prime for departure!” he called out as he ran.
“What the hell did I get myself into?” Finn berated himself. “Well, no sense prolonging things.”
He let go of the handle and took a dozen quick steps back from the door, then dropped to a kneeling position, rifle held ready, pressed firmly against his shoulder. The door shuddered and the hinges shimmied a moment before the makeshift barricade fell.
“Here goes nothing.”
Finn opened fire as dozens of mutated creatures rushed through the doorway straight at him, the shots uncomfortably loud in the narrow space.
He dropped one after another, quickly blocking the passageway with bodies. He just hoped it would be enough.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
“Did you speak with the others, Maarl?” Craaxit asked the aged Chithiid as he sat down casually beside him.
“Yes, I have done as you asked of me,” the old-timer replied. “But how confident are you in this human? I’ve been here longer than most, and I have not once encountered a specimen as you have described.”
Craaxit looked around the massive housing barracks the hundreds
of Chithiid shared. Most bunks were empty, their occupants still away on work shifts. Those who remained were all well out of earshot.
“She is as I have told you, and has given me her word of honor that she will do what she can to help us regain our freedom, and even retake our own world, once we liberate this one from the Ra’az. We might actually have a chance, my friend.”
The old alien got a far-away look in his eyes as he thought of home.
“To see our families again. To know my children and grandchildren are safe. I’ve been shuffled from city to city on this planet longer than most have been alive, Craaxit, and I know a lot of dissatisfied Chithiid well beyond those already committed to our cause. If there is a true chance of this happening, I am confident my friends will join the fight. But it has to be for something with a legitimate chance of success, for if we fail, it will not only be we who are punished, but so too shall our families suffer the consequences.”
“I am well aware, and for that reason, we are devising a means to cut off the Ra’azes' communications network.”
“Preventing them from contacting the homeworld or the fleet? I see where you are going with this, and I approve of the tactics. But what of the loyalists? They will never join in an uprising.”
Craaxit’s face was grim.
“They are Chithiid, yes, but they have lost their way. If the deaths of the loyalists will save billions on our world, then so be it. For the time being, old friend, keep this to yourself. Plans are not yet fully in motion, and if the loyalists realize what is happening, or worse, if they realize that any of the more powerful AI systems are still active and receiving aid from a rebel force, they will inform the Ra’az Hok, and the planet will be once more flooded with fresh waves of attacks, and plague, and virus, and all will be lost.
“I will keep this to myself, sharing with only the closest and most trusted of friends. Believe me, Craaxit, I will be cautious. I am an old man. If this resistance falls, so too does my only hope of seeing my family one last time before my final peace.”
