Crusade Against the Machines

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Crusade Against the Machines Page 16

by Franklyn Santana


  Evelyne took me by the arm and said to me: »Come, let’s go upstairs.«

  We left Sarenna behind and went back through the curtain into the vestibule. When I was sure we couldn’t be heard, I said to Evelyne, »My goodness, what kind of witch was that?«

  She looked at me reproachfully and said, »Sarenna is an important woman.«

  »Oh really?« I replied. »Why are you defending her?«

  We reached the spiral staircase that led up. I led the way. »You don’t know what you’re talking about,« said Evelyne as we climbed to the top. »She is a woman of great influence. She’s from Russia, and they say she even knew Vladimir Putin personally.«

  »The former President of the Union State?«

  »The former Secretary of State,« she corrected me.

  »That must have been a while, I guess. Is he even alive?« I said, not impressed.

  »She still has far-reaching connections today,« said Evelyne when we returned to the small room where we had left the rest of our clothes.

  The thought that she might be spying for the Union State crossed my mind. In any case, I’d have to be careful what I said here.

  My shirt was unusable, I realized meanwhile. So I just put my jacket on and closed it in the front. Evelyne slipped back into her dancer’s costume. But she put on a new panty. She threw the old one that I had ripped apart in my face, but I caught it with my hand. »Here, a souvenir,« she said.

  I pulled her towards me and kissed her.

  Chapter 6

  New Detroit, 2111

  »Was she pretty?« Little Evelyne asked me.

  »Who?« I asked back absent-mindedly.

  »Well, this other Evelyne.«

  »Oh, she!« I saw her face again in my mind’s eye. The resemblance was really striking. The young girl seemed like a younger clone of her. I wondered, if this was possible...? I dismissed the idea. Cloning had been banned by the Neo-Luddite regime. Nowhere in the world was a laboratory left, where clones could be produced. »Yes, pretty as you are?« I said to her.

  The girl would certainly have blushed, if she didn’t have such dark skin. »Magister Dexter, you are kidding me.« She lowered her eyes.

  »I’m not,« I assured her. »You’re a pretty little girl.«

  »Not that little,« she objected.

  »Perhaps not!« I admitted with a fleeting glance at her.

  Our carriage arrived at my house. The coachman tightened the reins of the horse and brought the vehicle to a halt. »Here we are,« he said.

  Evelyne jumped from the carriage. I had a little more trouble climbing out of the car. I put my bag under my left arm and grabbed my cane. My leg hurt again. I tried not to put much weight on it.

  »Shall I help you, Magister?« offered the girl.

  »No, no problem, I’ll manage,« I said. Finally I had made it and stood next to the cab on solid ground. I looked in my wallet for a few coins to pay the driver. Suddenly I heard the watchtower’s alarm bells ringing. Someone shouted excitedly, but I couldn’t understand him. The call came from the palisades.

  »They’re sounding the alarm,« said the coachman. »Something’s going on out there.«

  Some neighbors came out of their houses and looked in the direction of the watchtower from which the bell was ringing, although it was not visible from this street. There was also a man from the militia who had hastily grabbed his weapons and equipment and put them on while he was making his way to the palisades. The carriage turned and drove away.

  I said to little Evelyne, »You better go home now.«

  »Where are you going, Mr. Magister?« she asked.

  »I wanna have a look at that,« I replied.

  »Then I want to come with you.«

  »No, you go home. Go on!«

  But before I looked at what was happening outside the village, I brought my bag into the house and got my old pistol instead. I hadn’t shot with it for a long time and could only hope that the cartridges still worked. Then I limped in the same direction in which the men of the militia were running, who had been called by the alarm bell.

  Evelyne was still waiting in front of my house and despite all my protests she didn’t let herself be dissuaded from following me. Without the carriage, it took me a long time with my aching leg until I finally reached the palisades. The militiamen had already manned the balustrade. Crossbows were cocked and made ready to fire.

  I couldn’t see anything from down here, so I would have to climb up to the wooden wall taking one of the ladders. That would be pretty exhausting for my old bones. I wasn’t sure I could do it.

  »You stay down here!« I told little Evelyne.

  »No, I want to see what’s going on too,« she objected.

  »You stay here! End of discussion. That’s an order.«

  The girl made a sulky face. Meanwhile, I was looking for a wooden ladder that no one was using. I didn’t want to be in the way of the militia. Then I started to climb up. I took one step after the other, always dragging my stiff leg. It took a little longer, but then I finally reached the top. Climbing from the ladder to the wooden walkway was a bit difficult after all, but I managed that too. The men in the thick leather armor of the militia stood there too and looked down.

  »Brutes! There must be hundreds of them,« said one.

  »Are they going to attack?« asked his neighbor.

  The massive wooden wall stretched around the village of New Detroit. Maybe it really needed to be called a city. But the term city was usually reserved for the former urban area of Detroit, which was a few miles from here, or rather for what was left of it. New Detroit was actually located in Macomb County near the historic Ray Township. The village was surrounded by forest, both broadleaves and conifers. Now, towards the end of winter, most of the trees were still bare. Only the pine trees were green all year round.

  I looked through one of the embrasures in the palisade. My eyesight was not the best anymore. So it took me a while to see the people gathered outside between the trees. We called them Brutes. They were dressed in hides and armed with iron bars, clubs and hatchets. Some also had bows and arrows. The hides were not made into proper clothing, but were rather loosely worn, usually leaving arms and legs uncovered, despite the cold. I wondered how they endured the weather. But probably they had come running and had hereby warmed up themselves. Some even had naked upper bodies, most of which were covered with tattoos.

  They were all men. They were unwashed, had beards, feral hair and piercings and tattoos all over their bodies as far as I could see. Their faces were savage and full of hate. They hated the village for many reasons. They rejected any form of technology. And even our sawmill, our carriages and our forges were forbidden technology in their opinion. The village also farmed and stored food for the winter. It had been very cold this year, but our storehouses still contained food until it would be warmer again. The Brutes, on the other hand, had nothing. They lived on what they hunted and found. And I could imagine that the cold winter that year had taken a good share of them. Now they were hungry, and we had the food they needed.

  Usually the Brutes lived in small groups, no more than thirty to fifty individuals. But a whole army had gathered out there. Those I could see between the trees alone must be more than a hundred. They roared and shouted insults at us. Some men from the militia shouted back.

  Finally some of the Brutes grabbed stones and threw them over the palisades. I took cover behind a wall as precaution. An officer of the militia shouted some orders to prevent his men from shooting back. More and more Brutes came out of the woods. They were angry, and only the palisades stopped them from attacking us.

  Other images went through my mind, also angry crowds, maybe dressed more civilized, but certainly not less angry...

  Washington, D. C., 2051

  I heard some noise from outside. Just as I was going out to see what was going on in the corridor, the door to O’Neil’s Capitol Hill office was pushed open and a group of people rushed in. I realized immedi
ately that these were not staff members of the Congress or any senator.

  »Where is the senator? Tell us, where is he?« the leader of the group, a stocky middle-aged man, yelled at me angrily.

  My right hand involuntarily reached under my jacket where I usually carried my pistol. But there was nothing there. I had left my pistol in the car. My security clearance was not high enough to carry a firearm in the Capitol or the Senate’s offices.

  Mrs. Hitch, O’Neil’s secretary got up from behind her desk and said, »Please wait outside. The senator is not back yet. And he has no appointment this afternoon...«

  »We don’t need an appointment,« shouted another man from the group, while more people were already rushing in the door. »I’m one of his constituents and I want to know where that corrupt son of a bitch is.«

  I grabbed the man closest to Mrs. Hitch by the arm and tried to drag him to the door. »You heard his secretary,« I said. »Now get the fuck out!«

  There was a scuffle during which I punched the man in the face, which knocked him down. Finally, a couple of uniformed robots of the U. S. Capitol Police showed up at the entrance of the office and helped to get the unauthorized intruders outside. One of the robots was knocked over and crashed to the floor. It broke a wooden shelf, against which it had fallen. The robot was significantly heavier than a human and had metal chasing under his uniform. The shelf couldn't withstand such force. Bundles of paper fell to the floor.

  Outside in the corridor I heard a loudspeaker announcement. »All unauthorized visitors must leave all Senate offices immediately. This is a police order. I repeat, all unauthorized visitors are to leave the Hart Senate Office Building immediately!«

  While the policemen and I removed the last of the intruders forcibly from the Old Man’s office, Mrs. Hitch picked up the papers lying on the floor.

  »What the fuck is going on here?« I asked one of the Capitol Police robots.

  »A large number of protesters have stormed the Senate office buildings,« the robot replied. »We were unable to stop them. I recommend you evacuate the office. There are more protesters out on Capitol Hill and I am afraid we do not have enough personnel to stop them.«

  I couldn’t believe it. »What? That’s not possible! What the fuck do those people want?«

  »Please come with me!« the police robot merely replied.

  I said to Mrs. Hitch, »Let’s get the hell out of here! Leave the papers!«

  »But when the Old Man sees this mess...« she complained desperately.

  Now a human police officer with the rank of a lieutenant also came in. He wore a headset with an ARI visor in front of his eyes. »We are evacuating the building. Come with me!«

  I grabbed Mrs. Hitch by the arm and pulled her outside with me. »Lock the office,« I told her. Further down the corridor I saw a crowd of angry people trying to get towards our direction, but they were stopped by some police robots. However, it was unclear how much longer they could hold them off.

  »Do you know what this fuzz is about?« I asked the police officer.

  He was busy giving instructions to the robots via his interface to evacuate the other offices of the senators as well before the vandals could get through. He just turned to me for a moment and said, »The vote in the Senate has upset some people. Even in the Senate chamber there was an incident. Shoes were thrown at the senators from the visitors’ gallery.«

  Somehow I was amused by the idea of a shoe flying against the Old Man’s head. But I suppressed any expression of amusement and stayed focused on the task at hand. »What about the senators?« I asked.

  »The session has been closed. I’m afraid they’re on their way here. They do not know that all hell is breaking loose here,« he said.

  »Then tell them, for fuck’s sake! What do you have your interface for?«

  »We can’t get through to our people on the Capitol. There is too much traffic on the network.«

  »We’ve got to find the Old Man,« I decided, so I dragged Mrs. Hitch behind me.

  »Where are you going?« she asked.

  »To the subway. The lieutenant said the senators were probably on their way here.«

  The corridor was in chaos. Senators’ clerks, policemen and other government officials were running around everywhere. The angry protesters had meanwhile smashed the robots to the ground and were about to storm the offices of the Democratic senators. One robot used a sonic cannon to stop them, but it seemed to have no effect except that I had to cove my ears because of the deafening whistle, although I was standing in the opposite direction. I ran with Mrs. Hitch to the escalator that led to the subway. The underground tunnel system connected the offices of the senators and members of the House of Representatives to the Capitol. Together with other congressional staff, we boarded one of the tiny cabins of the computerized electric train.

  From a human-like android who worked as a secretary for a Democratic congressman and who was sitting behind us in the same car, I finally learned what had happened: »The Human Dignity Bill was rejected in the Senate, by forty-eight votes for and fifty-two votes against. Of course, no one expected that, since the Republicans have the majority in the Senate. It must have been quite a disappointment to the people who came to celebrate the ratification of the bill.«

  I didn’t listen any further and I did the math in my head. The Republicans had won fifty-three seats in the Senate. Now that only forty-eight senators had voted for it, the technocrats that had bribed O’Neil and his colleague McCain must have bribed at least two more Republican senators to vote against the bill. So the technocrats had had other strings to their bow. However Neil O’Neil had to take at least part of the questionable credit for the current riots. I certainly didn’t want to be in his shoes right now. He would have to put up with some unpleasant questions from his party colleagues, even though he had already repeatedly expressed doubts and criticism of the bill in the run-up to today’s vote, as if it were his conscience that had driven him to this decision. But of course I knew that there were quite different and more tangible reasons behind it.

  But I also knew that the anger of the people would be directed mainly at O’Neil, especially when the names of the senators that had voted against the bill would be made public. This wouldn’t make my job as O’Neil’s bodyguard any easier. For the Neo-Luddite terrorists he would now be the primary target. So it was all the more important that I get to him as soon as possible.

  Unfortunately our electric train didn’t get very far. Somewhere between the stops of the Dirksen Senate Office Building and the Capitol it came to a halt. An announcement told us: »For safety reasons, the underground traffic must unfortunately be temporarily suspended. Passengers are requested to go to the nearest exit. We would like to apologize for any inconvenience. Thank you for your understanding.«

  I didn’t know what the computer voice was thanking me for. For sure I didn’t have the slightest understanding in that moment. I stood up in rage. I took Mrs. Hitch by the hand. We were now forced to continue on foot through the tunnel system.

  »What’s wrong? Why are we stopping?« the elderly lady asked surprised. I could hear the noise of angry voices at some distance. It seems that the demonstrators had even penetrated into the subway tunnel system. The other passengers also got up.

  I ran off with Mrs. Hitch. O’Neil’s secretary was completely out of breath when, after a few minutes, we came across a U. S. Capitol Police officer and a police robot.

  »Stop!« the officer yelled at us. »Stop right there! What are you doing here?«

  We identified ourselves with the carnets we wore on our jackets. Apparently, the officer had mistaken us for protesters at first.

  »All right, come along! I have orders to escort all passengers to the nearest emergency exit.«

  While the worried Mrs. Hitch poured questions over the officer, I saw several people coming towards us behind a curve in the tunnel, led by Capitol Police robots. Then suddenly a familiar voice from the group shouted, »Ah, Mr. De
xter! Come here! Come on, come on!« It was Neil O’Neil. He and two other senators were surrounded by police robots and some congressmen.

  I ran to the group and worked my way through to him. »Sir, I believe you are in danger here. We should leave the Capitol Hill area as soon as possible.«

  »That’s what we’re trying to do, Mr. Dexter,« O’Neil replied. Then he began to rant: »It is incredible, almost unbelievable what I have just witnessed in the Senate. That... well, there has never been anything like it in the whole history of this honorable house. That mob has actually dared to attack us from the gallery. Can you imagine that? Us, the elected representatives of the American people. This is outrageous! This is... This is an attack on democracy, on the constitutional order of the United States. This... this... this is just... Well, I don’t even know what to say.«

  »Senator, we can’t go back to your Capitol Hill office. The office has been stormed,« I informed him. »It’s chaos all over the place, and the Capitol Police apparently don’t have enough personnel here to deal with all the protesters.« Neil O’Neil just shook his head.

  The police officer leading the squad of robots directed us to a fire door, behind which a staircase led up to an exit.

  We came out of a relatively newly installed emergency exit on Capitol Hill, not far from Constitution Avenue, which was now closed to all traffic. Only Capitol Police vehicles were passing through. Outside the Capitol itself, I saw thousands of protesters surrounded by a cordon of police vehicles. New vehicles with sirens blaring were constantly arriving. Some ambulance cars were also among them.

  »Dexter, call our car,« Neil O’Neil commanded.

  I wanted to pull out my smartphone to call the car, but the police officer said: »No, no civilian vehicle will be allowed to pass through here. The whole area is locked down. We will take you to your office in one of our personnel carriers.«

  O’Neil ranting indignantly. »Well, this is outrageous! I can’t believe it. What has this nation come to? Are we in a civil war or what? This is like in the Middle East or something. Has it come to that, that we have to flee the Capitol under police protection?«

 

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