by Scott Baron
Even in the other barracks across the globe, the pattern was the same. Scores of Chithiid housed in massive barracks, and invariably at least one spy in their midst.
It was beneath several already-gutted office towers not too far from their barracks that the secreted weapons caches had been hidden many years prior. Safely off-scans, yet conveniently nearby, rebels had surreptitiously deposited their hauls on their way to and from work, if not during breaks, when possible.
Craaxit exited the barracks, the fully charged pulse pack warm under his work clothes. Momentarily, it would be safely tucked away with the other weapons and supplies, and then he would go about his usual work routine, as would be expected of him.
Soon, if his human ally was successful, he hoped that routine would change, and for the better.
The lights in the silo hidden deep beneath the surface were running on low, a power-saving protocol when the facility went into standby mode after years of inactivity. Once the motion sensors were given something to do, they buzzed into action, fully illuminating the facility for the first time in centuries.
While stale from being hermetically sealed, the air lacked any trace of off-putting smells. Whatever bodies had expired within the thick walls had long ago been reduced to dust, sparing them the stench of decaying flesh.
“Systems seem to be operating normally,” Daisy said. “I’d wager I was right that the place has a geothermal power source keeping the power cells charged.”
“That appears to be the case,” Sergeant Franklin agreed. “There are twelve levels in this facility, each serving different functions. We should split up, each person taking a level.”
“A dozen? For a two-man silo crew?” Tamara said. “Seems excessive.”
“Only four of them are really meant for regular crew use. The remaining eight are more for accessing and maintaining the missile and its launch systems. Remember, this is essentially one giant underground tube,” Franklin noted. “My guess is we’ll find what we’re looking for on those four levels.”
Daisy skimmed over a basic facility floor plan mounted on the wall near the service stairwell.
“Found the workshop level. You all run the search for the keys. I’m going to see if I can rustle up something to fix up our friend here’s leg.” Daisy pointed to the tin-man’s appendage. “Mind if I get a better look at it before I go digging for bits and bobs?” she asked.
“Of course, ma’am.”
“Ugh, enough with the ma’am. Just Daisy, please!”
“Sorry, ma'a––Daisy.”
He rolled up his pant leg, revealing the damage to his metal limb.
“Seems relatively straightforward,” she said. “Okay, you can roll your pant leg down. We’re good.”
“That fast? Are you certain you don’t need a better look?” he asked.
“Nope. Photographic memory,” she said, tapping her head. “Side benefit of frying your brain with a neuro-stim. Now y’all get a move on. If you need me, I’ll be on level six.”
Tamara was the first to find the remains of one of the silo crew. She nearly tripped over the pile of clothes just inside the doorway to the command room as she entered, sending a small puff of dust wafting from the empty uniform.
“Oh, nasty. I’m breathing dead guy,” she grumbled, pulling her shirt over her nose and mouth.
She bent down and opened the collar of the shirt. All that remained of its owner was a pile of fine dust. With a reluctant little shudder, she stuck her fingers into the powder.
“Gotcha!” she crowed triumphantly moments later as the hefty key and its thick neck chain came free in her grasp.
The others were having less success, spreading out across the levels, searching everywhere they could. The second crewmember, however, was nowhere to be found.
Daisy, in the meantime, was having a field day in the repair shop. She had quickly sourced a few components that would get her tin friend’s leg back in working order, at least long enough to get back to Joshua’s much more extensive repair facilities.
Digging through the wealth of high-tech components at her disposal, Daisy had felt an unexpected burst of inspiration, her hands quickly slapping together nearly a dozen shiny orbs from the parts at hand.
“Whatcha doing?”
Had an idea. Something for the trek back.
“Are those what I think they are?”
Yup. And since I’m not having to make them from totally scavenged scrap parts this time, I think these oughta do the job just fine.
“Jeez, Daze. How many are you making?”
As many as I have these old power cells for. They may be outdated, but they’ll hold a charge, and getting through Billings again is going to be a shitty road to travel. All the better if I can help clear it somewhat.
Within forty-five minutes, Daisy had eleven of the simple, yet deadly devices fully assembled. Shifting in her seat, Daisy’s stomach gurgled uncomfortably.
“Ooh, that’s not good. Guess I got a little distracted there. You see the head anywhere, Sis?”
“Yeah. It’s down the left corridor, second door on the right.”
“Thanks. Gotta pee something fierce.”
“I don’t need the play-by-play, Daze. You forget I’m stuck riding along with you, even on bathroom breaks.”
Daisy laughed and walked down the corridor.
“Oh, fuck me,” she said as she opened the door.
“Is that–?”
“Yep,” she replied, nudging the dust-filled pants resting at the base of the toilet with her boot. “Looks like our friend clocked out on the shitter. Lovely.”
Daisy bent down and quickly dug in the pile of dust, but there was no key to be found.
“Seriously?” she grumbled, dusting off the toilet seat where the uniform top rested. “This is so not right.”
Reluctantly, Daisy reached her arm down into the muddy mess of toilet water and dead guy remains.
“Nasty. I hope he didn’t drop a log in there before he––”
“Not helping, Sarah!”
Her fingers tickled a sturdy chain at the bottom of the bowl.
“Got it!”
Into the sink the key quickly went. Daisy flipped on the water and scrubbed her hand and forearm clean of the sticky muck, then set to the task of washing off the key. After a bit of scrubbing, the stubborn bits finally rinsed free, and Daisy hung the clean key on the door to dry. She then turned to the dusty toilet.
“Sorry, dude. When nature calls––”
She gave a little salute to the fallen man, then flushed the bowl. Daisy then thoroughly wiped the seat down with a damp towel before drying it and then flushing once more. Only then did she take a seat on her throne.
Man, what a day. When it rains…
“Hey, guys,” she said as Franklin, his damaged cyborg associate, Tamara, and a pair of young men entered the workspace. “Any luck?”
“Bingo,” Tamara said with a grin, dangling the key by its chain. “You have any luck down here?”
“As you said, ‘bingo!’” she replied, holding up the other key.
“Well done, Daisy. And I see you have a pretty sizable assortment of parts on the workbench. Do you think a repair can be effected?” Sergeant Franklin asked.
“Yeah, we’re good,” she replied, then turned to the injured man. “Hop up on the table and roll up your pant leg. This should only take a few minutes.”
She quickly set to work on the injured leg, swapping out parts with swift efficiency. Franklin noted the other devices lining the workspace.
“Working on something else, Daisy?” he asked.
“Yep. For the trip back through Billings. After all we went through getting out, I’m sure we’ll get a lot of use out of them. Should take down pretty much anything in our path. Even the cannons.”
“Ah, are those EM grenades?”
“Good eye, George. Yeah, they’re a modification of an earlier design of mine. Of course, that means you and your men will need t
o take a rear position to avoid a hard reboot.”
“Daisy, that’s not a concern. We’re all shielded against electromagnetic pulses,” he replied.
“Oh?” she said with a knowing smile. “You think so, eh?”
Daisy tossed one of the devices across the room. Sergeant Franklin deftly grabbed it out of the air and looked more closely at its design. It took a moment for the potential pulse output of the device to register, but when it did, he ever so subtly held the EM grenade a little farther from his body.
“Um…” he stammered. “I, uh, see your point, Daisy,” he said, carefully handing the deadly device back to her. “Once we hit Billings, my men and I will guard the rear.”
“Damn, Daze. You spooked a seasoned soldier.”
Cool, right?
“Yeah. Or you built something so dangerous, even he knows better than to play with it.”
Daisy allowed herself a little smile as she finished her repair work.
“Good as new,” the metal man said soon thereafter as they walked to the control room to join the others. “It feels like it was never even damaged.”
“Well, it’ll hold up for a while, but you should still have Joshua give it a proper repair job once we get back to Colorado Springs.”
“Of course. Thank you, Daisy.”
“My pleasure,” she replied. “George, were we able to tap into the comms links and get the portable encryption unit plugged in?”
“Affirmative. The device seems to be in working order, but we wanted to wait for you to double-check it before we reached out to Joshua for further instructions.”
“You guys know the system as well as I do by now, I reckon, but thanks for the vote of confidence.”
Daisy looked over the patched-in comms unit. The device was functioning perfectly, a faint signal reading showing the activity of the connection. More importantly, the filter and deadman switch were both fully operational. Daisy powered up the device, sending their contact signal out to Joshua through the facility’s transmission array. Ever so briefly, the lights flickered.
“What was that, Daze?”
No idea, Daisy replied. Probably just a temporary power surge as we re-routed to the comms system. Deep in her gut, however, she felt uneasy. She knew no one was watching her, but the feeling made the hair on the back of her neck tingle just the same.
“George, you’re one hundred percent sure there’s no AI within the silo, correct?”
“Correct. That was one of the core protocols. Separation of AI and human operators. Why?”
“Just wondering.”
“Excellent work, team,” Joshua’s voice said through the silo’s speakers. “You have the keys. Do you see the two red panels, one on each side of the room’s main console?”
“Yeah, got ‘em,” Daisy replied.
“Take the two keys and insert them into the matched slots. Inform me when you have done so.”
“Tamara, you want the right one?”
“Sure.”
They each inserted their key into the waiting slots.
“Okay, Joshua. We’re ready.”
“I will count to three. On three, turn the keys two clicks to the right. That’s clockwise.”
“Ready,” Tamara said.
“So is it one, two, three, turn? Or is it one, two, turn on three?” Daisy asked.
“I’m sorry for being unclear. It’s one, two, three, then turn.”
“Got it.”
“Good,” he replied, then let out a soft chuckle. “I’m getting too old for this shit.”
A grin flashed across Daisy’s lips.
“Joshua? Did you just make a funny?”
“Whatever do you mean?” he answered, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Now, let’s proceed. On my count. One. Two. Three.”
The women turned the keys two clicks to the right. The control panel’s myriad lights and readouts flashed to life as the entire system powered up.
“Um, Joshua? We’re not actually launching the missile now, are we?”
“No, Daisy. This is merely the system bringing its targeting array online. Now I will be able to access accurate target maps and aim accordingly. There is just one more thing I need in order to have total control over the needed processes.”
“I thought this was our mission. Get the keys and get you access and control.”
“Yes. You got the keys and activated the system. Now you need to bring the master code keycard back to NORAD to give me control of the launch codes to utilize the new target settings.”
“Can’t we do that from here?” Daisy asked. “We have a secure line back to you.”
“Unfortunately, the keycard is heavily encrypted, and requires a specialized hardware unit to read it. A unit such as the one in my main strategy center.”
“Sounds like there’s more to this mission than we expected.”
Seems that way.
“You feel like maybe that would have been good to tell us before now?”
Yup. But you know what? At this point, I just want to get back to Colorado Springs. If this gets us there faster, so be it.
“So, Joshua. Where is this keycard? I didn’t come across one when I found one of the keys. Tamara, did you?”
“Nope. Just a pile of dust and a key on a chain.”
“It is locked in the silo’s Top-Secret SCI safe.”
“Hang on. You want us to crack a missile silo’s hardened safe?” Daisy said with a frustrated sigh.
“Long and short of it, yes.”
“This isn’t going to be easy, is it?”
“Honestly? Likely not. But I have the utmost confidence in you, Daisy. I will transmit the most recent five thousand SCI passcodes used by our silos in the final days before communications were terminated. Unless the human operators triggered a manual reset, the passcode is likely one of these, though––and I apologize for this––I cannot discern which one.”
Daisy’s shoulders slumped slightly.
“Awesome. At the ambitious rate of two passcodes per minute, this could take us, what?”
“Forty-one point six hours, continuous,” Franklin said.
“Forty-one point six hours.” Daisy groaned. “Well, let’s get started. If we’re lucky, maybe we’ll hit it in the first twenty-four hours.”
“This is going to suck.”
Like a vampire in a sorority slumber party.
“Well, we had best get to it, then.”
“Okay, George. Point me to the safe, and let’s begin.”
They got lucky. It only required sixteen hours of constant work, each team member taking a half-hour shift, before the safe swung open and gave up its well-protected secrets. The one bright side of the delay was that those not working on the safe were able to get some rest prior to the return trip.
As it turned out, they would need every bit of it as they made the arduous trek back to Colorado Springs.
Chapter Eight
“We’re being stalked, Daze.”
Daisy didn’t turn her head, but her ears were picking up the slightest ruffle of leaves, and the occasional crackling of twigs.
I know, she replied, silently. Any idea what, or whom it might be?
“Not entirely sure. It started after we got off the monorail and hit the surface outside of Billings. Wasn’t tracking us in Bozeman or Conrad.”
So not a Ra’az ship tracking us.
“Highly doubtful. I think this is something far less sinister.”
And feline, I’m willing to bet, Daisy added. Same one that scented us on the way out of town, probably.
“My money is on that being the case,” Sarah confirmed.
Daisy swiveled her head around and surveyed the team.
Not too spread out. No one in a position to be easily snatched, she noted.
More importantly, the trio of sturdy cyborgs were taking up the rear, and if it was indeed the same mountain lion that had attacked them on the way out of town, it likely remembered how difficult a meal t
he metal men could be.
That, and they had no scent.
“Okay, everyone. Listen up,” Daisy said in a calm voice. “We have something following us. Don’t look around and act jumpy. We want it to think everything is fine and keep its distance. What we need to do is make as direct a line for our entry point back into the city as possible.”
“Should we confront it?” Tamara asked. “I mean, we’ve kicked its ass once already.”
“No, there’s no point. We’re going to have to hustle once we start using the EM grenades, anyway, and I’d rather not risk drawing attention to ourselves any sooner than necessary,” Daisy replied.
She rummaged in her pack and pulled out a pair of shiny metal orbs and handed them to Tamara.
“Three-second delay. Just push the button and throw.”
“Yeah, yeah. I’ve got it, Swarthmore.”
“Just triple-checking. We’ve only got eleven, so try to save them for the most dangerous threats. Every time we use one, we’re running the risk of drawing Ra’az attention, no matter how far they normally stay from this city.”
Tamara took the EM grenades and tucked them into her pack. Daisy dug out two more for her.
“Hell, take four. Not like we won’t need ‘em.”
Tamara flashed an amused grin.
“Thanks. So, you ready?”
“Yeah. Let’s do this.”
The team pulled close in a single-file line, Daisy and Tamara on point, human support in the middle, and cyborg soldiers taking up the rear.
“It’s still back there, Daze.”
Not our problem now. If it’s foolish enough to follow us into this blender, it gets whatever is coming to it.
It wasn’t a full-run, per se, but the need for speed was abundantly clear when Tamara tossed her first EM grenade at a pair of heavy earth movers barreling toward them, bent on destruction.
The electromagnetic pulse shut the machines down, along with everything electronic within twenty meters.
Daisy turned and checked on the cyborgs trailing behind. They were still standing, but seemed dazed, despite the distance and their EM-hardened endoskeletons. She quickly jogged back to them.
“Tamara, keep moving forward. I’ll be right behind you.”
