by R E Kearney
Often, Robert intentionally forgets to salute and properly address his superior officers, as well as regularly failing his physical fitness tests. Actually, he stays in reasonably good physical shape and could easily pass his physical fitness tests if he tried. After all, he ran track in High School and at the University. But, he enjoys how much his close-call failures exasperate his commander. Transforming his commanding officer into a fiery-red, stuttering, spitting maniac is one of his joys. It helps him pass the time. Inventing different methods for aggravating his superior officers is simply a game he plays to ease his boredom. Robert asserts that he is a professional in the military, but neither a military professional nor professional military.
So, the fretful recall from the Minister forces Robert to mentally review his recent actions for possible reasons to be beckoned north. He does not recollect any major screw-ups during his previous two weeks of Reserve duty. When you do not do much, you cannot mess up much, and he had not had that much to do these preceding two weeks. After all, Canada is happily at peace. For that reason, Robert considers that being yanked north cannot be good. It just is not routine.
Also, he does not understand why the Minister insisted that he wear only civilian clothes and pack and bring all of his personal belongings. Or why the Minister routed Robert’s car travel to Ottawa using isolated Highway 15 instead of the faster route of Highways 401 and 416. Highway 15 between Kingston and Ottawa is a mind numbing ride through mile after mile of uninhabited Canadian wilderness. Only passing through the small town of Smiths Falls breaks the monotony, and that is if you do not blink and miss it.
Robert dislikes small towns like Smiths Falls and shuns them, when possible. He is a blissful member of the Metropolitan Generation. City born and city raised, he grows nervous and uneasy when traveling outside of cities. He is comfortable in crowds, but suspicious and wary of rustics. He would rather walk through the worst neighborhoods of Toronto than waste thirty minutes in a country burg. Too many bad experiences haunt him from his brief sojourns in rural areas.
Although a nap is a welcome thought, he decides that under these strange circumstances and since he is alone in the countryside he should stay alert. Fighting to keep from falling asleep, he activates the car’s Canadian news network holograph.
Immediately the banner, BREAKING NEWS appears followed by a holograph of former US Vice President Richard Chennai. Behind the holograph, a newscaster reports, “Former US Vice President Richard Chennai was found dead from a heart attack at his home late last night. Officials say they believe Chennai was killed by a computer hacker that gained control of his Bluetooth-enabled pacemaker. The hacker made Chennai’s pacemaker increase his heart beat to more than three hundred beats per minute. According to his doctor, his heart beat him to death.”
The newscaster is five minutes into reading a history of Chennai’s life when he halts for another BREAKING NEWS announcement. A holograph of National Robot Association President Pierre LeVayne flashes before Robert, as the newscaster reads, “National Robot Association President Pierre LeVayne was found dead at his home early this morning. NRA President LeVayne is best known for fighting against legislation designed to control robots and for repeatedly stating, ‘Robots don’t kill people – people kill people’. A police investigator, who wants to remain anonymous, told this network that LeVayne was killed by his sex surrogate robot when its mechanical penis punctured his large intestine and ruptured his anus, and that LeVayne and his robot were still coupled when found. LeVayne’s doctor will only say that LeVayne died from internal bleeding.”
“Coincidentally, today is the two year anniversary of the forty thousand US soldier increase in the Nordic conflict, which critics declare led to the escalation of hostilities. The US actions have been blamed for causing more than one hundred thousand civilian deaths. Both Chennai and LeVayne were strong proponents of the US troop increase. Critics claim that the two men reaped millions of dollars from their investments in US arms manufacturing companies, due to the US escalation they promoted,” the newscaster announces before returning to reading a history of Chennai’s life.
Robert recognizes the two attacks as being the work of cyberkillers operating through the Internet of Things. Simple stuff, Robert thinks. No more difficult than operating his home’s refrigerator from this car. He cannot believe Chennai and LeVayne left themselves so vulnerable. They committed cyber suicide.
After discussing the life of Chennai and then the life of LeVayne, the newscaster switches to international news. Robert notices that the international news consists of a recitation of the usual long list of riots, rebellions, small conflicts and regional wars. Peace is as rare as water, these days.
Endless fire is scorching the earth. Years of increasing high heat and drought have created water shortages and water wars; food shortages and land wars; and starvation and death on every continent. Destitute and desperate, throughout the world, neighbor is hacking neighbor to death for a scrap of bread. Hungry and hated, millions of homeless, starving climate refugees are migrating from one killing field to another searching for reprieve in the rubble. No water. No food. No future. No hope. Their living hells are ending only with their deaths.
Blood runs throughout the Middle East and Central Asia where genocide between bands and clans of Sunnis and Shias rages. Terrorist gangs rule the spreading desert, now. Governments no longer exist. When the crude oil market collapsed, so they could no longer subsidize their supporters, the nations of Syria, Iraq, Yemen, Saudi Arabia, Kuwait and the Emirates disappeared beneath the shifting political sands. Intent on erasing the images of the despots and tyrants of their oppressed past, the rebels are crushing every remnant of their ancient civilizations and former societies into dust.
All of this slaughter has been occurring for so many years that Robert, like so many others, has grown indifferent, adopting an attitude of “Who cares? We cannot do anything about them anymore. No governments exist there any longer and they are determined to kill each other.”
But Robert’s ennui disappears when the newscaster begins discussing a bizarre number of recent deaths of officials in Russia. According to the newscaster, three Russian generals and two leading Russian politicians died earlier in the week due to suspicious cyber and robotic accidents similar to the ones which killed Chennai and LeVayne, last night. As usual, the Russians are releasing little information, other than the names of the men who died; General Vbrytsa, General Pytki, General Porochnyy, former Minister of Internal Security Glupyy Dura and former Minister of Russian Defense Ochen Bezumnyy. Russian officials are blaming the US, calling it retaliation for the five men’s leadership of Russia’s successful defense against US aggression during the Nordic War. Yesterday, Russia’s President Ubiytsa Strana stated that he believes the US is directly responsible for the deaths and vowed to hunt down the assassins and avenge his countrymen’s deaths, swearing that there is no country, including the US, where they can hide or are safe.
The newscaster is discussing possible connections between the Russian deaths and the US deaths and the two year Nordic War escalation anniversary when Robert’s car parks itself in front of the triangle shaped Canadian Security Intelligence Service Headquarters. Two armed soldiers quickly approach his car. Having never before been at the headquarters, Robert nervously freezes in his seat, wondering if his car parked itself in a secure zone or violated some other rule.
One of the soldiers knocks on the car window, “Major Goodfellow? Please come with us. Minister Wilson is waiting for you.”
The two soldiers swiftly usher Robert into a bio-integrated transmitter and electronic tattoo removal and decontamination station. “Sir, we must search you for any possible micro-transmitters sewn within your clothing or internally or externally attached to your body. Please remove all of your clothes and place them on this analysis table. After you remove your clothes, I need for you to step into this body scanner, so our security technician can examine you for the presence
of internal bio-integrated transmitters and external electronic tattoos. After we scan your body, we need for you to walk through our static electricity salt shower. Then we will provide you with clothing for your meeting with the Minister,” the Sergeant instructs Robert.
Although embarrassed, Robert complies with the Sergeant’s directions. The body scanner locates only his authorized electronic bio-info tattoo, which the technician dissolves with a burning laser shot. Still smarting from his painful tattoo erasure, he finds the static electricity shower rather ticklish and fun. He is reluctant to end it, especially since his new clothing consists of hospital-type scrubs and slippers. Once dressed, the soldiers escort him through the security posts and the maze of corridors into a secure Sensitive Compartmented Information Facility deep inside the building where Minister Wilson waits, pacing nervously.
“Major Goodfellow reporting, sir.” Standing at attention in his hospital scrubs and slippers, Robert semi-salutes. He feels ridiculous.
“At ease Major. Take a seat. We need to talk and we don’t have much time,” Minister Wilson continues pacing. “You worked with the Cyber Defense Group during the Nordic War, did you not?”
“Yes sir, I was one of what they called neurotypicals assigned to mentor and support a high functioning autistic US cyberwarrior named Corporal Jay Hawk. He could program robotic weapons and drones faster than anybody I have ever seen. I thought that I was a good programmer until I met him. I just…” Robert hesitates and then asks, “Why sir?”
“Have you heard about the deaths of the officials in the US and Russia, Major?”
Minister Wilson taps the top of his desk in front of Robert so that a Top Secret labeled screen displays before he can respond, “Well there is a lot more to the story. The deaths in Russia and the US are just the beginning. Just the big names. The US and Russia are charging head first into a full blown cyberwar and possibly a shooting war, and as usual, the US is dragging us into it with them.”
Wilson reaches out and places his finger on a visual, “Your Corporal Hawk is dead. He was assassinated in his apartment last night. Not certain if robots were involved with him. Police found him with his throat crushed. US Society Security investigators suspect Russians. They suspect Russians murdered the others too.”
“The others sir?” Robert starts flipping through the visuals on the screen.
“Yes, the others.” Minister Wilson rubs the back of his neck. “Whoever did the killings was prepared, ready and in place. Twenty one Americans who worked in the Cyber Defense Group died last night. We’re just damn glad that you weren’t one of them. In fact we were surprised, very happily surprised I might add, when you answered last night. My guess is that being on our Kingston base may have saved you. Or maybe it’s because you’re Canadian and they don’t know about you. That’s why we had you travel Highway 15 by yourself in your unmarked car. I also imagine that you didn’t know we had two Reaper drones shadowing you your entire trip, either. We didn’t want to draw any additional attention to you. But then, maybe you’re just lucky.”
Robert snickers nervously. “Better to be a lucky, living Canadian than a dead American.” He searches through the computerized visuals and biographies, “So am I the only one left?”
“We don’t think so, but we don’t know for certain.” The Minister swipes the screen in front of Robert again and visuals of two women appear. “Nobody is certain about these two women. One is named Mugavus Komfort, a neurotypical originally from Estonia and the other is a high-functioning autistic named Pion Ashpourger. You know them, don’t you?”
“Yes, I know Mugavus Komfort and Pion. But, I haven’t communicated with either one of them since Mugavus left the coalition’s Cyber Defense Group when the ceasefire was declared.”
Robert silently contemplates the visuals of the two women. Mugavus’ natural, yet understated, beauty highlighted by her soft blue eyes still hypnotizes him and the way her mouth turns up at each end in a perpetual smile still evokes him to involuntarily smile in response.
“Really? No communications?” Minister Wilson arches his eyebrow. He is skeptical. “I was told that you and Komfort got quite close while you were with the Group. That you spent a lot of time together…uh…bonding.”
Robert flushes warmly. “No. It wasn’t like that. I think we kind of…bonded…as you say because we were the only non-Americans in the group. We didn’t really fit. We didn’t participate in their required daily bible studies or join their evangelical prayer groups. So, the Americans became suspicious of us. Then they excluded and avoided us and we just paired as a two person group of outsiders. Everybody else was sort of…rah, rah. USA! USA! But Mugavus was not like that. In fact, she became quite strongly anti-American after President Abaddon ordered his forty thousand troop escalation and missile attacks that leveled more than half of her country. Most of her family died during the war, she told me.”
“Interesting. I was told that you two were closer than that.”
“Friends. Nothing more,” Robert does not know what the Minister knows about his relationship with Mugavus, but he certainly does not plan to provide him any additional details. What happened or did not happen between Mugavus and him during the Nordic War is none of the Minister’s business.
“Well, anyway, the information we have is that your friend Komfort…pardon me…Mugavus is now a citizen of that corporation state called the Society Preserving Endangered Agriculture. At least that is what US Society Security Intelligence is telling us,” Minister Wilson sneers derisively. He possesses little respect for the US SS.
“And since Canada remains a member of the Coalition, US officials can require our assistance. Your assistance actually. Anyway, as usual, the US SS is telling us…notice I did not say asking us…that they need you…because they believe you two are friends…to travel to the capital of that…uh…society country…SPEA…I think most people call it SPEA…and persuade your friend Mugavus and that other woman…Pion, if she is still alive, to return and help them against the Russians.”
“What? Why me?” Robert asks in disbelief. This is definitely not his type of gig.
As much as the opportunity to see Mugavus again interests him, doing it under these circumstances alarms him. “Why don’t some of their military or Society Security goons go? Or why don’t they just bring in some other cyberwarriors to fight the Russians? What is so special about Mugavus and Pion? I don’t think they have been involved with cyber combat since the ceasefire.”
“Didn’t you just tell me about Komfort having anti-American sentiments? And obviously, you don’t know very much about that SPEA country. If you did you’d know that place only exists because it’s anti-American. Which, it seems, is also the situation with most of the remaining, capable cyberwarriors. Most of the trained and competent cyberwarriors fled the US when President Abaddon and his Righteous Rightists Republican wing implemented their strict, Christian-only, Religious Freedom laws. And you already know the fate of the other members of the Cyber Defense Group. They are gone. Dead.”
Minister Wilson lightly pats Robert’s shoulder, “So there you are Major. You have been chosen to save our friends to our south. You lucky Canadian.”
“Yes sir. That’s great...uh…luck,” Robert grumbles. “I believe it was Hunter S. Thompson who said, ‘Luck is a very thin wire between survival and disaster, and not many people can keep their balance on it.’ So, I can only hope to be a well-balanced, as well as lucky, Canadian.”
“Now you would know better than me.” Minister Wilson continues, “but I understand that this Pion woman that they want you to find is a cyber-fighting savant who US officials believe is their best, and maybe only remaining chance to survive another cyberwar. Especially because she has developed some cyber weapon called AIDAS that the US wants desperately. And I understand they are also afraid that if you don’t get to them, the Russians will, and either turn them or kill them. The Russians threatened to kill both of them during the N
ordic War, I believe. So, I doubt that the Russians have changed their plan to eliminate everyone they know they cannot beat. Also, US officials are terrified that the Russians will get her AIDAS weapon before they do.”
Minister Wilson rubs his finger across the table-top computer screen and a man’s face appears. “The US is sending this Society Security officer, or plans to anyway, with you. He is an SS Deacon named Mack Evoil who will be joining you in Washington DC.”
“Wait. What? Why?” Robert flinches at the prospect of working with a religious fanatic of the SS. “Why send me with some SS Deacon to an anti-American country to meet with anti-American women? If I have to go, then send me alone. Or send him alone. Don’t tie me to some rock and then throw me overboard, sir.”
“Well Abaddon and his cronies don’t trust their own US military anymore.” Wilson smirks, “In fact, I hear some units of the US military are mutinying and refusing to leave their bases. So, they’re sending this SS Deacon. He’s your protection, according to US officials. They think the Russians are still waiting to kill you.”
“And I have to agree, as much as I never like to agree with the US SS.” Wilson taps the side of his head, “It only makes sense that Russia must kill Komfort and Pion and you…yes you…in order to win a second Nordic War…and trust me, there will be a second war if you don’t save Komfort and Pion. They are the only people the Russians fear.”
“But truth be told, I believe he’s going along to keep you…” Minister Wilson sneers and points at Robert, “…you observing the Righteous Rightists’ party line.”
The Minister begins searching through a drawer in his desk, “Just because they need us doesn’t mean they trust us, or you, especially. I have no doubt that everything you said and did at the Cyber Defense Group was recorded and reported and stored in a dossier. When they say the U and S mean Under Surveillance, they are not kidding. So get used to it. They are paranoid and scared. They have spies and eyes everywhere.”