by Phoenix Ward
“We’re almost outta here,” Beth said, more to herself than the programmer. “Just a little farther.”
The gate creaked as they pushed it open more. The sound was like nails on a chalkboard to Beth, grating on her psyche. She prayed they were the only ones who could hear it.
They weren’t, however. No more than twenty feet out of the gate, Beth started to hear pounding footsteps behind her. It almost sounded like a herd of buffalo were chasing after them, but she knew the sound to be mechanical feet, not hoof beats.
She didn’t dare look over her shoulder. In the matter of an instant, she heard a loud explosion from behind and felt the whiz of a bullet ripping the air by her right ear. She felt Dr. Silvar instinctively start to duck down as their pursuers opened fire on them, but she kept firm pressure on his upper arm and kept him moving.
“Here!” she cried to the programmer as they jumped into a ditch that ran through the craggy land by Fort Leddy. The dust they kicked up filled their lungs and Beth did her best to avoid coughing in it. With her grip on Dr. Silvar, she pushed them both back so they were right against the eroding wall of the ditch.
The pounding of feet above and behind them was like the rumble of nearby thunder. Before they even had a moment to prepare, Beth and Dr. Silvar saw four black forms leap over them, in the direction they had been running. Their pursuers fell for the trap: they thought the detective and the programmer would be fleeing down the opposite side of the ditch. Before they could realize their error, Beth drew a bead on them with the help of the I.I. in her brain. With a staccato of gunfire, she dropped each of the bodyshells that chased them.
“That should cover our escape,” Beth said, turning to the programmer. “At least, I hope so.”
They didn’t stick around to see if more bodyshells or meat puppets picked up the chase after them. Together, they ran and ran and ran until Fort Leddy was nothing but a formless shape on the horizon and they managed to vanish into the treeline of a nearby forest.
After about an hour of weaving in between the trees, Dr. Silvar halted and doubled over on himself. Beth noticed and stopped as well, waiting for the man to catch his breath.
“We’ve gotta keep moving,” Beth urged. “Come on.”
“No, no,” Dr. Silvar replied between gasping breaths. “I need a moment. We’re far enough away. We can take a second.”
Irritated, Beth reluctantly agreed. The feeling in her legs started to come back as she took a seat under one of the pine trees.
“I can’t believe we escaped,” the programmer said once his breathing resembled a normal rhythm. “All those people who didn’t — all because of me.”
“All because of Tarov,” Beth corrected.
“But there wouldn’t be a Tarov without me, would there?” Dr. Silvar reflected. “Even then, there were so many chances to stop him. I could have ended this before it even started, but I didn’t. I thought there was some bigger purpose at play here. Perhaps I put too much faith in our creations. Or maybe, in our ability to control them. I was a fool.”
Beth said nothing, staring at the defeated old man.
“This is what you were talking about, isn’t it?” Dr. Silvar asked her. “This is the horror I’ve forced millions to endure by keeping Tarov alive. We’ve only had a taste, haven’t we?”
Beth nodded.
Dr. Silvar seemed to consider something for a few minutes while they rested. There was the look of a deep, internal battle waging in his thoughts. If Beth didn’t know better, she would have thought the man was arguing with his own I.I.
The programmer looked down at his mud-stained jacket, then decided on something and reached into one of the interior pockets. From it, he retrieved a small object, no larger than a human tooth.
“Here,” Dr. Silvar said, offering the thing to Beth. “This drive contains my half of the failsafe virus. I imagine the program should execute without fail when you combine it with Darren’s half. Since I stayed on with the government longer than my late compatriot, I also know where they keep Tarov in hard storage. It’s a military research bunker in the Rocky Mountains. I’ve included the coordinates on the drive.”
“Won’t you come with me?” Beth asked. “I could surely use the help.”
“I — I can’t,” Dr. Silvar stuttered. “I don’t think I have the heart for such a task. I’m old, and not only that, but I’m an idiot. I want to make it right, however. You’re the best person to bring this virus to Tarov and end the war. That’s your purpose. I think I will be most valuable helping the survivors. Keeping them safe while you save us all. That’s my purpose.”
Beth felt a little indignant. “So I’m expected to do all the work?” she asked. Then she felt embarrassed by her reaction. As she thought about it, she understood where Dr. Silvar came from. He’d done all he really could do to help. He’d just slow her down and put himself at unnecessary risk by accompanying her.
“Are you sure you don’t want to join me?” Beth offered one last time. She already knew the answer.
“I know you can do it,” the programmer replied, a warm smile forming on his lips. “You do have the heart. Good luck.”
With that, he stood up and started to walk away. Beth almost wanted to follow him or stop him and ask where he was going to go. But she knew that he didn’t have the answer. So, she let him leave and looked down at the data drive in her hand.
The show must go on, huh? she thought.
37
Hard Storage
The scent of fresh pine needles greeted Beth’s nose when she emerged from the truck. She took a moment to breathe in the crisp mountain air before slamming the cab door behind her. They stopped a good three miles away from the coordinates Dr. Silvar gave them, so there was little concern of being heard. As far as civilization was concerned, they were in the middle of nowhere. But to Beth, they were in one of the most beautiful plots of land still standing on the face of the Earth.
It took a solid day of driving for Beth — and Simon — to reach that strand of the highway and the shoulder along it. And that was after they managed to find a working vehicle, which took them another day first. She had tried to circle around Fort Leddy to where she abandoned Dr. Miller’s autovan, but when she found it, it had already been gutted for parts. The gas cap was missing, the tank was empty, and only one wheel remained. She was forced to look for another option.
After marching along the highway for twelve miles, darting and ducking every time she thought she saw any kind of motion, she managed to find a truck in perfect working condition. The driver was dead behind the wheel, full of bullet holes. It looked like the Liberators managed to stop the vehicle and unload on the man without damaging more than the windshield. Then they left him in search of more people to hunt.
She was glad the drive was uneventful for the most part. Whenever possible, she avoided towns or truck stops, sticking to back roads and sometimes just driving through the open fields. The truck was able to make terrain out of almost anything, which proved useful in a world dominated by an ever-growing enemy. However, now that she was out in the open air, she was kind of glad to be free of the vehicle. For the previous day, it had been a cage filled with anxiety.
Sweat started to bead up and out of her pores after a half hour of hard hiking towards the military bunker where Tarov was kept. Though it was still early spring and the weather was cool, her strain threatened to overheat her. It wasn’t until the first two miles were under her belt that she started to realize how exhausted she really was. Her gait became sloppy and her breathing labored. She felt how empty her stomach was, how it seemed to hang in her gut like a deflated birthday balloon. Every bit of her skin itched with grime and oil. How desperately she wished for a shower. A bubbling hot bath to vanish into, never to resurface. She still had a job to do, though.
She pressed on.
“Is that it?” Simon asked.
Beth looked around, scanning the tree line and the slope of the mountainsides. Squinting, she not
iced a squat concrete structure nestled in the “V” of two steep cliff faces. It was almost impossible to see among the thick forest surrounding it. Beth thought it was similar to looking for a bit of tarp in the vastness of an ocean. Especially since, after closer inspection, it seemed to be covered in a tent of camouflaged netting.
How did he spot it before I did? Beth wondered. She knew Simon could hear her every thought, but he didn’t care to comment.
Beth found a bit of rock to kneel behind as she retrieved the binoculars from her small side pack. When she pulled the lens up to her face, she was surprised to see only a pair of bodyshells standing like statues beside what she presumed was the bunker’s entrance.
What’s with the light security? she asked. You’d think the one place Tarov was physically vulnerable would be crawling with I.I.s and meat puppets.
“Most of his soldiers are probably out fighting the war,” Simon reasoned. “Out there rounding people up. Looking for us. Besides, they don’t know that Tarov is an artificial intelligence. I doubt they’d be called on to protect his storage device. Those bodyshells are probably all controlled by him personally. He can’t trust the Liberators with his secret.”
Then getting inside will be easier than we expected, Beth thought. It almost seems too easy.
“Just remember, if any one of those bodyshells spot us, every instance of Tarov out there will know we’re here,” Simon reminded her. “There’s no telling how many bodyshells he’s controlling right now. We don’t want an army converging on us, even if it looks like a piece of cake.”
There we go, Beth thought. That’s the worry I’m used to.
How close do you have to be? Beth asked. She was crouching in an uncomfortable position that forced her full weight onto her tiptoes, but she knew it was too easy to make a sound on accident if she adjusted. Her legs were still sore from the hike up to the bunker’s clearing.
“I don’t know, but closer than this,” Simon replied.
The place was bigger and farther than Beth thought. It took them a solid two hours to descend the cliff into the “V” where the bunker was concealed. From that distance, she thought it was no larger than a World War II-era pill box shelter, but it was actually like a small warehouse.
Why do they need so much space for a place to store Tarov? Beth wondered. Is he stored on tape?
“Maybe he isn’t the only thing they’re keeping here,” Simon suggested.
Beth didn’t want to move any closer to the bodyshells than she already was, but she knew she must in order for Simon to do his jump trick. The idea was to subtly shut down their optic feed in such a way that it looked like it was still functioning. Essentially, they had to “loop the tapes” like Beth had seen in old-timey heist films. Simon was confident that he could do it without alerting Tarov to his presence, but Beth sensed what she could only describe as a tinge of doubt in the I.I.’s words. Still, it was the best shot they had. Worst case scenario, she still had her handgun, and Simon was proving himself to be a talented aim assist program.
Once she got the nerve, Beth pushed forward. Simon told her to move whenever she was ready, so she just had to trust that he’d be able to run his glitch before the bodyshells registered her appearance. Beth didn’t believe in taking leaps of faith, but after everything she and Simon had been through, she had no other choice.
Closing her eyes, she ran the last few steps up the slope to the bunker, holding her breath. When nothing happened, she peeked and saw the two bodyshells looking straight at her. Or at least, they were looking through her, into the woods. Nothing about their body language indicated that they could see her, even though she was only a few feet in front of them.
“You’re clear for another forty seconds,” Simon told her. “And I got the door open. You’re welcome.”
She couldn’t help but be impressed. Without wasting any more time, she entered the bunker.
There was a thin strip of L.E.D. lighting that ran along the edges where the walls met the floor and ceiling. The glow it provided was dim, but still bright enough to see that Beth was alone. The place was the size of a basketball court and entirely devoid of life, either organic or synthetic. However, it was not empty.
The walls were lined with racks that displayed all kinds of military tech Beth had heard rumors of, as well as other stuff she never even dreamed. Looking at the small but informative displays that accompanied each exhibit, Beth was able to identify a number of projects the U.S. military had been working on. There were smartguns, which were supposedly unable to fire at an organic target. Next to those were digital optics that identified mechanical enemies and provided a holographic overlay via the user’s neural implant. Even farther down were a set of electric bullets, which sounded like projectile E.M.P.s from the jargon Beth was able to decipher. She recognized the cyberblade katanas. They were exactly like the ones the Rubik assassins tried to kill her with. Next to them was a set of wakizashi with the same technology in the edges.
All these things are designed to fight installed intelligences, Beth observed, looking from rack to rack. This must have been a research showcase for the military. They knew a war was coming.
“There were decades of terrorism before the war, Beth,” Simon reminded her.
Walking past a set of mechanized suits that looked like they turned the wearer into Iron Man, Beth noticed a flat lift built into the center of the floor. There was a short red railing lining it, likely designed to keep anyone from falling down the shaft when the lift was down on one of the subterranean levels. Or, at least, that’s what Beth deduced.
“He must be down there,” Simon said. “This is just the museum. Something to show off to the brass.”
Beth didn’t dispute his logic. She stepped through one of the tiny gates in the lift’s railing and made her way to the panel on its side. It was a holographic display, and though Beth rarely used them, it was as intuitive as a child’s picture book. With a swipe of her hand, they started to descend.
The lighting went from a cozy gold glow to a cool blue and green. Beth wondered if the lighting served some purpose like protecting photosensitive chemicals or if they were just an aesthetic choice.
It felt like they went down a few stories within the shaft carved of solid limestone, before the lift came to a gentle halt. A door opened, and Beth stepped through.
The round chamber she found herself in was home to a large bank of computer towers, which sat in the middle of the room on a bed of liquid coolant. There were a couple of workbenches down there, some with cyberblades, other with work-in-process smartguns. It seemed the scientists who worked on the projects liked to tinker in the company of Tarov.
With a soft sigh, the lift door closed behind Beth. Then, as if feeling energy on the hairs of her neck, she sensed a presence in the chamber with her.
Turning around, she noticed Tarov’s bodyshell towering above her.
“Hello, Beth,” he said. He looked down at her with disappointed eyes, then gestured toward the computer bank. “So we finally get to meet in person.”
38
Failsafe
“What are you doing here, Beth?” Tarov asked.
“I’m here to kill you,” Beth replied. “Or delete you. Whatever.”
She started to make her way to the computer bank, the data drive Dr. Silvar gave her clutched in her hand. Tarov followed her, but made no attempt to stop her.
“You don’t understand what you’re doing,” the digital man said.
“I know damn well what I’m doing,” she said. “I’m putting a stop to your fucking war.”
“This isn’t my war,” Tarov said.
“No, it’s our war, right?” Beth replied. “That’s what you were going to say, wasn’t it? Does that mean anything, or were you just programmed to spout metaphysical bullshit?” She stopped and looked Tarov’s bodyshell in the eye. “There’s no depth to you at all, is there? There can’t be. No one coded it.”
“Beth, don’t do this,” the
A.I. pleaded. There was no malice in his tone.
“You made me kill my brother,” Beth said, continuing her slow stroll to the computer bank. “You made me think he was back only to take him away again. How many families did you torture like that? A hundred thousand? A million? Will we ever really be able to count the number of deaths you’re accountable for? You were designed to protect humanity, and now you are on the verge of destroying it. Not even on accident, either. You ran us to the brink with cold calculation. You’re evil. I have to do this. I have to kill you.”
“I wish more than anything that I could show you the bigger picture, make you capable of seeing,” Tarov replied. “The ends that justify the means. It’s almost like knowing a bit of wisdom for which there is no translation, like shouganai or razbliuto.”
“More nonsense,” Beth spat.
“You are being manipulated,” Tarov said. “That much you can understand, can’t you?”
“I’m getting used to the feeling,” the detective replied.
“It’s your lack of a neural implant,” Tarov went on. “The last piece of the puzzle the enemy needed was you. You were the only one capable of stopping my plan — of dooming humanity.”
“He’s lying,” Simon told Beth. “He’s trying whatever he can to stop us now. He’s desperate.”
“You’ll say anything, won’t you?” Beth told the A.I. “Now that everything you’ve worked for is about to come tumbling down, you want me to believe that you were the good guy all along because it’s the only hope you have of surviving.”
“It’s true,” Tarov said. “If you stop me now, humanity will lose the war. The enemy will win.”
“Then why did you start it at all? Why the bloodshed?”
