by Mich Moore
almost stumbled into a full-grown African lion with its head pushed inside a large pot of—Ian peered inside—beans. The lion looked up at him with soft eyes. Someone had fastened two large blue barrettes into his shaggy mane.
Ian moved on.
The lights became more intense the closer he got. When he was almost directly beside the large tree, the three orbs suddenly lifted into the air. Then they arranged themselves in a single line and floated up and over the trail and into a more distant tree farther down. Ian had the oddest feeling that they were annoyed at having to move.
He stood still, not quite believing what he had just seen.
"Everybody! Look!" a woman was shouting. "A shooting star!"
The mountaintop became alive as hundreds of families stood to scan the skies. "Look!" someone cried excitedly. "There's one! Over there!"
There were ooh's and ahh's as a brilliant flash of light darted from east to west across the blackness. "That is beautiful!" a man standing near Ian told his partner. "Just beautiful."
"It is, isn't it?" his partner responded.
Ian turned to look back down the trail. The three lights were still there. They, too, seemed to be watching the heavens.
14
Scott Air Force Base, Illinois
The 84th Engineering Battalion sat down with members of the Hunstville DAT team for a debriefing at Scott Air Force Base. Every staff member was in attendance with the exception of Lieutenant Colonel Eugene Palladino, who was at home still recovering from gunshot wounds, and Captain August Smith, who had died the day before from the injuries he sustained during Operation REFLA.
Freddy Fields was chairing the meeting. After some small talk with Allan Chang, Fields addressed the room.
"Firstly, I want to thank the Timberwolves for completing a near perfect mission profile."
That drew a chorus of unhappy wolf howls.
Fields happily relented. "Okay, okay. As pretty damn close to a perfect mission profile as possible. Thanks to very good intelligence, we were able to pinpoint the location of the illegal SAMs and destroy them. We were also able to identify and engage a serious crime threat in the area, and most importantly, we now have proof positive that the AIs can and will perform well under challenging circumstances."
His words were punctuated by healthy hoots and applause.
"Also, I want to announce that the secretary of state herself is negotiating directly with the Advance South for the immediate release of Lieutenant Colonel Carole Brainerd, Major Melody Dinard and lieutenants Pierce and Luce. She's confident that we'll have our people back by week's end."
Fields took a few moments to bask in their good mood.
He continued. "On a more serious note. I'm sure that you've heard the rumors floating out there. I want to confirm that Captain Joseph Mackey has accepted a new assignment with the Intelligence department. Colonel Brainerd, upon her release from the AS, will join John Voode's team as his new chief of staff. Both Joe and Carole want everyone to know that these moves will keep DFP on point, and we wish them all the best in their new positions."
"What's gonna happen with Vernon?" Bautista asked.
"It's our hope that we'll be able to place him with another DAT family. I'll get back to you on that. Thanks for asking."
Fields glanced at his notes. "And, of course, as you all know, we lost several Patriots during REFLA. These individuals fought hard and died well. Vice President Jameston will host the memorial service for them this Saturday at chapel, and all those who are able are expected to attend. This is a high service and ceremonial attire is mandatory.
"Secondly, I would like to convey the president's thanks and gratitude to the 84th for their significant contributions to the success of REFLA and the DAT program. Your hard work and sacrifice have given the defense department the muscle to not only continue the program but to power it to the next level. On a personal note, I want you to know that I knew Sergeant Dakota and her parents, Joe and Carmen. She was a fine soldier and a fine young woman, and she'll be missed by many. Also, Congress is recommending that she and Captain Smith be granted posthumous Medals of Honor. Their funerals will be held at Arlington Cemetery, and anyone wishing to attend will be given time off to do so."
No one spoke.
"All right, moving along. Suffice it to say, the DATs are out of the bag!"
Major Clayton led the Timberwolves in a raucous symphony of whistles, catcalls, wolf howls and whoops.
"Thanks to the video of the recapture of Peter DAT supplied by the St. Louis fire department, for better or worse, the entire world now knows about the DAT project."
"And I bet they're all pissed, too!" Someone shouted joyfully.
"Well, they're certainly curious. As of yesterday, Washington had received almost one thousand requests for information packets from newspaper, Internet and television reporters from around the world."
"And are we going to give it to them?" Broussard asked.
"Not now. The DATs still don't officially exist so ... maybe when we get Archangel off the ground, we'll start releasing a few drawings and specs to the trade magazines."
"What about the MITs? Are we accidentally 'telling the world' about them, too." That was Walters.
Fields's eyebrows arched. "That's a separate matter for a future meeting." The Englishman took a deep breath to refocus his thinking. "Gentlemen and ladies, I want to reiterate that the DAT program is NOT going to win this war for us. Nor was it designed to. But it is the first generation of intelligent machines that will help us win future wars. And god forbid we have them.
"Was this the best possible time to roll out the DATs? That's debatable. But, due to the lack of boots on the ground and skilled pilots in the air, we had few options that we could label one hundred percent loyal. Not effective. But loyal. And that is the DAT.
"I believe that Peter showed us a little of what a DAT can do in a unit. He was making fast, hard decisions, going on the offensive with Cabo, tracking like a champ, keeping civvies safe, and in the end, keeping his wits about him. And it freed us up to take care of downed men and coordinate with the Illinois Guard for backup, because we still had a hot situation on our hands. And the rest of the DAT crew, well ... in my opinion they executed a perfect mission profile. Better than perfect. All accomplished without one fatality on our side."
"Can anyone else add to that?" Fields asked.
"Well, I got a question," said Marty Flemish. "Just how fast can these guys move, 'cause by the time we reached Poplar bridge, the DATs were a distant memory!" There was lighthearted laughter all around.
Fields granted him a tight smile. "A pleasant, distant memory, I hope."
Flemish grinned back. "Always."
Allan Chang held up his hand. "DAT speed is now classified. But suffice it to say, Peter and all of the DATs will be able to keep up."
"So," Fields continued, "it sounds like maybe the DATs have redeemed themselves somewhat." Eric Powell raised his hand. "I'd like to add my two cents. The DAT crew was under guided control half that time, and to say that Pete was making split-second decisions on his own ... well. Who's to say that what he did wasn't simply a chase reflex?"
Fields looked Powell straight in the eye. "No one in this room will ever know the complete truth. Peter himself may not even know. But the data and the eyewitness accounts and all the evidence point to conscious decision making on his part. My take on it is that he was in charge of his actions."
Powell nodded. "Fair enough, but—"
Z interjected. "I would venture to say that Peter's prime motivation for doing what he did was his desire to apprehend the individuals that he rightly believed to be responsible for the injuries to his comrades, namely Lieutenant Colonel Palladino."
Walters shot him a who-asked-you look and said, "What this all points to is the reality that all of the DAT protocols are firing. The damn thing works!"
More than a few of the men started banging the table with open hands. "Here! Here!"
"And," W
alters continued. "This should lead management in the direction of renegotiating our contracts a-s-a-p."
A collective cringe rippled through the conference room.
Freddy Fields kept a neutral expression. "Mr. Walters, that subject is way outside the scope of this debriefing."
Walters turned to the rest of the engineers and jabbed a finger towards Fields. "Because this suit has failed to inform us that last month a company called Applied Physics entered into a major weapons contract with the military. No bids, no vetting, no press releases, nada. Then right after we scored with Operation Crucible, this same company turns around and issues an IPO that closes at ninety dollars per share. Guess what that weapon was, folks?"
Fields blinked rapidly. "Gentleman, Mr. Walters does not have the full facts."
"I have the facts, jackass, and now you're just trying to cover down."
"Mr. Walters—Van—I'm advising you to stop being such an adorable pain in my arse."
Walters snorted derisively. "We created the DAT. That's our blood and sweat running around out there making a bunch of lazy slobs rich. We want a percentage of those profits, present and future. And if you start jigging us around, I'm going to become the biggest pain that you've ever had up your arse."
Fields bristled at the pejorative and pressed a button by his chair. "There you are mistaken."
Two hulking MPs burst through the door. Fields happily pointed out Walters. "Mr. Walters, I'm relieving you of your duties as consultant for the DAT program and from any consideration