God of the Machine

by Elijah Stephens

  He said into his comm-piece, “Why didn’t Odin mention the Lieutenant?”

  “Because I told him not to,” replied the Doc. “You were the only survivor, and since Rowan tried frantically to revive Markham after the mission, I decided to leave it out of the meeting.”

  “That explains his demeanor.”

  “It would be difficult for any miracle worker to accept failure,” said the Doc. “Human frailty is something you learn as a young healer, but I suspect that his experience is different than most. We don’t really know what happened to the Lieutenant, but it doesn’t appear to be electrocution.”

  “Is Odin interrogating the cause of this?”

  The Doc exhaled. “Colton Tolliver is ex-special forces, not the usual silver spoon. We could work on him for weeks at the OIS here or in Beijing, but there are just no methods for breaking an iron will. Virtual reality immersion into calculated surrealism does little but disconnect any affected personalities. The dream world becomes overwhelming and stirs up memories for even the strongest individuals, locking down information instead of loosening it up. What are you researching?”

  “Kinematics and the transfer of bioetheric energy.” His voice echoed through the large empty room. “In the studies of brain death, there’s a documented theory about the event horizon of the soul, where the final mental function is a singularity of the conscious-subconscious mind. As an identity is subverted into its own memory and unfiltered experiences, the last thought and series of images becomes like an infinite dream when we lose time. The vibrational bioetheric wave attaches to its eternal source as a frequency pattern called a construct. In the case of Eperiam Townsend, it’s possible that his residual energy sought to manifest revenge against those who caused his death, so it translated itself into a computer program that was absorbed into the unwritten Prototype’s memory cell. As an electrical conduit, it was simply following the path of least resistance.”

  “I’ve heard about the research,” said the Doc. “Do you know why it is disregarded by scientists?”

  “No,” said Arkane, scrolling through media files. “Are you collecting this?”

  “I’m recording your feed through internal security. If the XR-41 cannot be contained, we’ll have to finish its objectives and the delicate preferences of the OIS be damned. They can televise the executions when they wish.”

  Kyle agreed. “Go on...”

  “Well, polytheism became henotheism, which is a delegation of the ultimate Creator’s power through beings who reign at different times. This was replaced by monotheism as a derivative of Sun worship, and then by science and technology,” said the Doc. “Most people believe that it would be a step back to believe in the immeasurable divine, even if it is the basis of human emotion. We have sacrificed too much to build societies that once allowed visionaries to delve into the Otherworld, now considered to be myth and not abstract truth. The event horizon concerns the singularity of space-time, where all things through all time become one thing with no time. Supposedly there is nothing lost within a black hole, since the energy of the transfer recreates its own material existence in the fluctuation of an eternal moment. The idea is that the death of consciousness gives off a balanced equation that is written in the omnipresent information of the Cosmos. That’s why the theory wasn’t accepted, because it solves one problem and creates another. An unending dream to experience what you did in life would be a form of impersonal justice, since a wicked ego that derives pleasure from hurting others would leave the identity with the objective consequence of its memory, casting an evil person eternally into the realization of their misdeeds. What is left is an abstraction equal to its pathway through time, yet if the encapsulated spirit is also a wave of timeless energy, it would gravitate to the living part of itself, which is literally its own descendants.”

  Arkane followed the reasoning. “Resulting in ancestor worship and guardian protection, but how can a disembodied soul become infinite at the same time as connecting with relatives who exist materially?”

  “Exactly, it’s a paradox that can only be explained by multidimensionality, which makes it a circuitous concept. No one will ever see the singularity of a black hole from both the perspective of being within and outside of it simultaneously. The eyes made to see this world cannot see through it. A better question is why have our abilities manifested at all, was it to help the world and answer a call for help, or can we only know of the metaphysical world by logical inference and critical observation of the existential. Remember that throughout history, the Taoist Chi was a realization of quantum mechanics twenty-five hundred years before experiments tested it. Since their superstition is separate from philosophy, Asians do not divide the substance from the Source. It is only western individuality that marks the distinction that confounds us.”

  “But we’re talking about a notion of the afterlife that is at least a hundred and thirty-thousand years old. The question is so integral to our peace of mind that it’s absurd.”

  “Not if a livewire ghost inhabits a Prototype running amok in LA,” said the Doc. “There is nothing supernatural, just what we know and what is still hidden by the mist. Did you catch the evening news?”

  “No,” said Kyle. “What happened?”

  “Our subdivision of the ISC was somehow declassified by reporters of the Free Press Protection Agency. They found our budget proposals in the public record and investigated misappropriation until discovering that our group is made of genosapiens. Now that has become their story.”

  “How much do they know?”

  “That our purpose is to police infractions of legal cybernetic standards, chasing biomech terrorists and corporate mercenaries,” said the Doc. “Anyway, they’re calling us the Bullet Catchers. I thought you’d like to know, since you’re the one catching all the bullets.”

  “Well, that’s fine for now.” Arkane was clearly disappointed. “But if they reveal our names or families to the public, those reporters will discover the limitations of free speech.” There was a pause on the line as he kept scrolling through stories arranged by specification.

  The Doc cleared his throat and sounded stressed. “Odin needs to speak with you. We’re checking your location for satellite uplink.”

  Kyle turned on his wrist-monitor and the screen loaded a live feed of a videophone in the Director’s office. Odin looked as if he was coming off the frontline of battle. One of his eyes was missing and the bloody mess was wrapped in a bandage.

  “Agent Arkane, the second unit of the Africa Corps has broken Colton Tolliver out of custody. They staged the extraction in the interrogation wing, but the mercs had to split up and the team that went for Lothian is still cornered.”

  Kyle closed the study terminal and walked to the library’s exit. “Where are the others headed?”

  “That’s why I’m calling,” said Odin. “I need you to follow the spybots on the upper 10 coming out of downtown. They started tracking the Prototype nearby and Tolliver is its primary target.”

  “But the man is going to die anyway.”

  “If the machine doesn’t catch him, you’ll have to, and don’t bother with OIS protocol if it means civilian casualties. Lothian was the triggerman who took out the Engineer directly, so the XR-41 will end up coming here one way or another.”

  “Upload the coordinates,” said Kyle. “I’m north of Century City, but I can catch them before the Santa Monica Interchange.”

  * * * * *

  After hitting the nearest on-ramp to the lower Harbor Freeway, he drove his cycle into the emergency lane and checked his wrist-monitor. He revved the Cruiser’s engine into the Downtown District and onto the 10, where the collective lights of the highrises washed the boundaries between with blinding luminescence.

  “Do you see them yet?” the Director asked over his comm-piece.

  “I can see the spybots, but there’s no sign of the Prototype. This is going to get di
rty, I suggest you take precautionary measures.”

  “And do what? Send in air support and throw machine-fire across the freeway?”

  “If this is the death of the Africa Corps, they’ll be packing an arsenal.”

  “We have to keep this secret,” Odin continued. “If the OIS finds out that Tolliver escaped custody, Project Archangel will be shut down. I’ll send a ground unit to block the 405 into Long Beach if they’re planning on hiding in the yards. I know it’s a tall order, but stop them fast and hard and I’ll get a cleanup crew on-site.”

  Kyle opened the rear compartment on his seat, withdrawing a non-lethal handgun and a thin cylinder. “I don’t have any major gear with me, and there’s no OmniField on this motorcycle. They’re going to see me coming.”

  “Fine,” said the Director. “I’ll try to divert traffic and the Doc has sent new scout technology. The androids are from a company called Full Immersion Systems that installs technology used in the Asian mech war called brain actuated control. The entire team is on remote access, but our droids are driving impounded vehicles, so you might not be able to distinguish them from civilians.”

  At full throttle, wearing altered lens glasses with the OmniField cloth above his nose, the smooth road made Arkane’s speed easy to maintain. As the spybots floating in formation started falling from the sky, he took the slight curve a few miles from the Santa Monica Interchange and could see muzzle-fire flashing from a silver truck with Thorax Shipping printed on the side.

  Kyle yelled over the wind, “We need a trap inside the tunnel!”

  “This is Casey, I’m a quarter mile ahead of you. The robot I’m controlling is driving the red coupe, from here I can see a hauler on the lower-el.”

  He drove closer to the barricades. “What do you see?”

  “The Prototype is riding the roof of a truck.”

  “For all we know, he’s following you.”

  “These androids are integrated with ambient stealth,” Casey replied. “They’re invisible to all bionics.”

  Arkane watched the repetitive passing of streetlights like stars spinning around his head. “Odin, I know you want this handled as a black op, but this is going to get messy.”

  The Director’s voice was rough. “We’ve got three teams waiting for cleanup. Get this done and you’ll get a raise.”

  “No, I’ll get a vacation,” he said after he dodged a crashing spybot that bounced across the freeway. “Casey, I can see your vehicle. Do you still have a lock on the android?”

  “It’s hopping from car to car!”

  “How long until it reaches Tolliver?”

  “Not long, we’re a mile from the tunnel.”

  He scanned the sparse traffic. “How many cars are you driving?” Most citizens were at home, enjoying their final hours until bedtime, making it easier to delineate the autos traveling faster than speedmarkers allowed.

  “We have four total,” said Vassil.

  “Get behind me as a barrier between the accident and these citizens.”

  “What accident?”

  “The one I’m about to create,” Arkane replied. “Stay back and we’ll trap them in the tunnel. You see it?”

  “Got it,” said Ganz.

  “It’s almost there!” yelled Casey.

  The Prototype jumped onto the barrier wall and became airborne again as it leapt off a street sign. The mercenary van bucked with the recoil of a smoking projectile and an RPG hit the support column, breaking it into fragments that blocked civilian traffic. Rapid fire blanketed the XR-41 as it made a final jump, plowing through the rear door of the transport. When the rocket launcher let loose again, a trail of smoke followed the flight of a modified grenade.

  Kyle pulled his handgun as it passed by and shot the warhead with an electrical burst that short-circuited its ignition mechanism. Once disarmed, the encasement collided with a sedan and turned it into a mangled heap rolling end over end.

  “I’m out!” Vassil declared after his robot was destroyed.

  The road sank under perpendicular freeways and curved into a tunnel of polished white tiles. The van drove chaotically with the Prototype inside and gunfire sparked off the concrete beside Arkane, who leaned his motorcycle to take himself from the path of collateral damage.

  The Africa Corps avoided MagLev vehicles that could be locked down by CalTrans, so when Kyle grabbed the railing, his Cruiser went tumbling under the back tires. After grinding against the wall and spitting out broken tiles, they lifted onto their side and skid to a protracted stop. With a line of holes popping from automatic rifles going off inside, the surviving mercs started climbing from the wreck.

  The first OIS droid onto the scene was the red coupe. “Just in time,” Casey said as she pulled to a stop. Arkane ducked behind her car before enemy soldiers peppered the hood with ricocheting bullets.

  The side door of the van wrenched open and the Prototype was catapulted out. It latched onto the wall of the tunnel and climbed to get a better position against the massive humanoid who tore apart the transport from the inside. A second car pulled up and the OIS droid controlled by Odin aimed a sniper rifle from the driver’s window, taking one of the mercs down with a bloody headshot.

  “They have a Titan-mech,” said Casey. “I’ve only seen one before and it was disengaged.”

  “Fill me in,” said Kyle, switching on his OmniField projector and becoming invisible. He looked under the car and saw one of the soldiers escorting the injured Colton Tolliver away from the totaled vehicle.

  “The small scale models are used by Special Military bounty hunters against criminals hiding in the wasteland.”

  “Why does the Africa Corps have one?”

  “The Black Market is everywhere,” said Casey. “I suspect it cost them a great deal.”

  Since it was made for work in the wasteland, its appearance was unnecessary and the Titan-mech’s head was installed with overlapping cybernetics to create a perfect killer that could not function within image-conscious society. The Prototype scurried across the ceiling of the tunnel as the Titan’s wrist opened with a rail-gun, blanketing the area with metal slugs at a velocity that made them explosive.

  The XR-41 leapt onto the mechanoid’s back and went for the rear panel, but the giant grabbed its leg and threw it against the van. When the last OIS vehicle entered the tunnel, the Titan-mech registered the new threat and its palm opened to reveal a wide barrel. The forearm splayed to handle the recoil of the internal weapon, and with a sudden flash, a large shell ejected from the discharge chamber, sizzling as it touched the air. Specialized line-of-sight technology guided it into the hood of the oncoming car and ripped it open, flipping the sedan over as it went careening through the tunnel.

  After the Doc’s robot jumped out and tumbled to a stop behind the red coupe, Arkane told the others to follow. He shot the Titan’s knee with his non-lethal pistol, and the flexor ligaments that normally contracted with electrical signals completely snapped. When the mechanoid lost its balance, Kyle ran by with three OIS androids behind him. The Prototype saw an opening and jumped again onto the unbalanced giant, to search its armor for a weak spot at the base of its spine. The Titan-mech turned in circles, trying to dislodge the nuisance, and a BAC droid was inadvertently trampled.

  “I’m out!” Odin declared.

  Kyle reached the upturned mercenary transport and climbed to the top, then he withdrew his cylinder and spilled three circular objects into his palm. He rolled a recon orb towards the enemy’s position and checked his wrist-monitor for the images it took. The Titan pried the XR-41 off its back but it managed to hang onto its forearm, locking the ejector mechanism and sending its recoil surging back through the cybernetic limb. When the palm-barrel opened again and a cartridge ignited, it blew the entire arm to pieces with an explosion that reverberated through the tunnel.

  Kyle watched the screen on his wrist-monitor brighten with warped photos
taken by the curved lens, revealing three mercs covering the right side of the transport and a fourth guiding Tolliver away from battle. He tossed a flash orb and turned to the waiting OIS droids to begin the assault. “Three on the right,” he said, lighting it with the intensity of a minor solar flare.

  The Titan was fumbling over its missing arm when its other hand extended into a seven-foot blade. The Prototype dodged the uncoordinated attacks and ripped into its spinal armor. As burning servos set off heat sensors in the tunnel, the halo system of water sprinklers were triggered. Kyle ran across the van and jumped over the soldiers taking cover behind it. With his OmniField starting to betray his position, he ran directly for Colton Tolliver while they were being gunned down by the Strike Team. The last merc was only partially blinded by the flash orb and his visual implants showed a faded outline running towards him.

  Arkane focused his energy and took the man off his feet with an uppercut that threw him into the ceiling, then he lowered his OmniField mask and retrieved the soldier’s handgun from the ground. He held Tolliver in place until the OIS droids finished off the last of the Africa Corps unit. When the XR-41 leapt onto the transport and scanned the area, Cassandra opened fire, but the Prototype grabbed her robot and ripped it to pieces.

  “Are you getting this?” Kyle rushed them.

  “Go ahead,” said the Doc. “We’re recording.”

  “Sentence fulfilled.” Arkane pointed the gun at Colton Tolliver and shot him in the head. As soon as his body fell, the XR-41 froze in place. Though it was only a few steps away, with its objective completed it reset its primary target and proceeded back to the entrance of the tunnel.

  “It’s coming for Lothian,” Odin reported. “I’ll send a Skyride to pick you up and the Doc’s android will fly you back.”

  “You know what I’m thinking, right?” said Kyle.

  “That the Prototype won’t be arriving alone? Casey already considered it.”