*****
Refocusing on the task at hand, Sally’s smile faded, and she continued to observe Craig, recognizing that up until his last comment simply being in his proximity scared the hell out of her. She had been intimidated by the rumors — particularly the Amsterdam incident (never confirmed) where Interpol was directed to a well-developed, fully-cocked sleeper cell. By the time the authorities arrived, it was told, each terrorist had been neatly executed, and their digitally-recorded confessions had been transmitted over the very network Craig’s father had created decades ago.
But now she decided to cut him some slack and open up a bit. After all, her involvement in the application of the Sentient Project was just beginning, and you never knew when you might need someone like Craig on your side. Sally would just have to suck in her pacifist leanings for now and stash away some survival insurance for if and when she needed him.
“Sir, Sentient indicates life form 142 clicks, 12 degrees down. No clear visual yet, only strains of light-capture with a slight level of biological particles within the stream. No, wait, we have it! Looks like a jack-a-lope, ah, excuse me sir, just a joke. I’m from Wyoming you know.”
A frown crossed Craig’s forehead.
“Actually, Major, it’s a black-tailed rabbit. Confirmation should register on your screen as well as ours. Particle density and depth capture AOK at over 103%, if that is possible, sir.”
The outdoorsman in the young operator again surfaced. “It would’ve made for a tasty lunch Major Craig, if we could have found the body parts, sir.”
With the mission accomplished, the testing phase was now complete. The drone came to a hover over Craig and Sally, and then it gently rested between the two trucks. As the motors faded the virtual Air Force pilot back in Hampton, Virginia removed his headset, rolled his hand off the joystick and satisfied at a job well done, headed home from his early morning shift at Langley Air Force Base. He wondered how many U.S. citizens understood how much of the air war against foreign enemies was conducted from this underground concrete bunker. Well, that’s not mine to worry about; maybe if I get some quick shut-eye, I’ll be up for a BBQ and coleslaw lunch at the County Grill. There, he and his buds would compare the hazards of war, such as the joystick jamming or someone burning the coffee they drank by the gallons to stay alert.
Back in the desert, Sally, with a solemn look at the resting drone, took a breath, leaned towards Craig and whispered, “Your new Sentient is ready, Major. Fully-tested and operational, she’s all yours — for whatever comes next.”
Without taking his eyes from the screen he replied, “I have a few ideas.”
Unleashed Page 2
