We've Seen the Enemy

by Paul Dayton

  At that moment the lights failed and they were immersed in total darkness that not even their augmented eyes could penetrate.

  “Well, that’s just great!” Bulldog said before he reached over and switched his suit light on. Before he could bring his arm back, a steel bar came crashing through the hole and shattered his hand. Bulldog yelled in agony as his suit quickly sensed the damage and loss of internal pressure, injected him with local anesthetics and neatly amputated and cauterized the stump. “Dammit! I needed that hand!” Bulldog said in shock as he looked at the metal bar now pinning his severed hand to the elevator floor.

  Mat and Spud grabbed him by the shoulder and kept him pinned against the wall as more stuff landed on the roof of the elevator and crashed down through the opening. The elevator groaned with the increasing weight of the objects on top and slowly started to sink downward.

  Mat watched as the plate they welded in place started to bend from the weight of the debris, and the bar put in to keep the elevator from moving up cracked at the weld and let go. Bulldog was now high on meds, and Spud could barely keep him still.

  “Time to get off!” Mat said and they left the elevator. The elevator groaned one final time and finally dropped but stopped short half a meter down. They all laughed as the elevator rested on the stops at the bottom of the pit.

  “I’ll be damned,” Spud said as he shook his head.

  “Don’t forget my hand…” Bulldog said, his eyes rolling wildly as his body wavered drunkenly. Mat turned to look at Bulldog’s external suit comp display and realized he’d been over-medicated.

  “He’s hallucinating,” Mat said and readjusted the quentinol levels. “Your hand’s in my duffle bag safe and sound buddy. Now let’s focus on the task at hand!”

  Bulldog laughed hysterically at the unintentional pun until Mat grabbed him by his suit and shook him. He visibly straightened and said, “Yes, Sir! Orders?”

  “Look for a way out, Bulldog.”

  “Yes, Sir!” He saluted with his injured arm and started laughing again, but Mat was relieved to see him turn and start searching.

  ***

  Finley watched as the monitors went black. Next the base lighting blinked, and then shut down completely. ‘What the hell?’ he blurted, wondering if his Trojan Horse had somehow unintentionally caused it.

  The monitors started up again and Angela said, “I’m sorry for the interruption. The aliens have found this base and are attacking it. Due to the scope of the attack, your fleet has decided to step back and watch how this will affect China Lunar Base. They said that they would return as soon as possible. As for ourselves, my calculations predict (and your fleet concurs) that after a cursory attack, they will leave us alone due to negligible resources available for their use.

  “As for the power interruption, I’m taking steps to prevent that from happening again. Although the monitors may shut down, the computers are on backup power and will continue working. In the meantime, please continue your data feed while I deal with the situation topside.”

  Finley was stunned, unsure of what to think about the situation. He looked at Gomez and asked, “Do you think…?” but remembering that Angela might still be listening, he said instead, “…the aliens can reach us?” Gomez, who had just turned off his suit light, looked at Finley, nodded in understanding and said, “I’m not sure. Only time will tell. In any case, I pretty sure we’re in trouble.”

  Gomez knew that the aliens didn’t attack for the fun of it. He knew they didn’t scratch their ass without measuring how many resources it took up, let alone attack a Base that wasn’t worth attacking. “If it’s the ants, then we’re screwed,” he said again.

  “That’s what I thought,” Finley replied.

  He watched as information was transferred from his files to Angela’s system. He could clearly see that she was buffering the information, no doubt checking it all for any surprises he might have included, but other than the Trojan Horse in the original program there was none, and that had already been installed. He was undecided as to whether he should activate the virus or not, knowing that if what she said was correct, he could very well doom them.

  He wondered how Captain Bishop was doing. She seemed more than a little curious about him. Looking at the terminal once again, he decided to try and find the video files on this station now that the information was being transferred. He moved his chair enough that he’d blocked the camera view and slowly stretched his arms up and yawned. As he lowered his arms he placed them over the keyboard.

  “Angela, I’m kind of tired so I’ll take a little nap here. Call me if you need me.” He waited but there was no reply.

  Finley wasn’t sure about her processing capacity, but perhaps the attack was taking its toll on her ability to keep everything in check. He hoped so as he opened up a small window near the bottom center of his screen and quietly went to work looking for the real video logs.

  ***

  All Bishop knew was that he was falling into a deep black hole of emptiness – no feelings, sounds or sight existed. He tried calling out but no sound came, and that’s when he realized that he couldn’t even feel himself breathing, or feel his body for that matter. It was as if his mind was completely cut off from reality. Just as he felt himself coming to the breaking point, the lights came back on and Angela was standing next to him as he lay prone on the ground. He instinctively reached out and grabbed her in a panic, but she reassuringly said, “It’s alright! Everything is fine!”

  Bishop frantically looked around, not understanding what had just happened. He forced himself back into reality and finally asked, “What happened? I felt…absolute nothingness…”

  “I know, it’s OK,” Angela said, very aware that he had almost gone over the edge. She cursed the designers of this interface for not having a redundant power system specifically designed for this in place. If he had died, she would have had to use one of the others, and they simply weren’t as interesting.

  “The aliens are attacking the base topside and they’re using some kind of new weapon. Your teammates are…dead, Captain, because of this same weapon. You were able to survive only because this room appears to be shielded enough to dull the intensity of their weapon.”

  “They’re dead? What about BamBam - I mean, Mat, Taylor and John? Weren’t they far enough down…”

  “The attack also caused a collapse in the elevator shaft. Although they are alive, that part of the station is now buried. It will take weeks before our Duty-Bots reach them, and there are no food supplies there. The shaft itself has lost integrity and can no longer hold an atmosphere.”

  “I see.” Bishop couldn’t believe this was happening. “And WF221?”

  “I was informed that because of the scope of the attack and the fact that they don’t appear all that interested in this base, the Fleet has decided to fall back and wait it out. Captain, brace yourself for another attack! I promise you, I will be back, just hold on!”

  The lights went out again before Bishop could reply, but this time he had full control of his body and senses. He felt around slowly and came to realize that he was no longer sitting on the floor with Angela holding him, but on the recliner, which he couldn’t understand. He tried lifting his arms further but felt restraints on them. In a panic he tried lifting his feet but there were restraints there too. He concentrated on trying to see something, but the darkness was intense. The only thing he heard was a steady hum emanating from the walls and vibrating everything around him, including himself.

  ‘My god, this is all…fake, somehow,’ he said to himself as the realization hit him. He was still in the Interface room, on the recliner, and the image he had seen earlier of an apparently very alive Angela was all in his head. Bishop struggled with all his strength to get loose from the restraints, and finally found one giving way. Little by little the age weakened strap stretched until it snapped off. He quickly reached over to undo the other one and felt intense pain from tubes ripping from his arm, but it
didn’t matter. He was so angry at the deception that he didn’t care. He quickly reached down to undo his feet.

  He was about to stand when the lights flickered on and off again and he saw the Medi-Bot standing near him. It took a few seconds to realize what had happened, and he jumped out of the seat as fast as he could but lost his balance and rammed into the Medi-Bot, knocking it over.

  Barely able to think, Bishop listened as he panted heavily on the floor. The effect of the drugs was making everything confusing. He looked around for a weapon but his vision was blurry and the infrared receiver in his left eye was making things worse. He crawled to the only source of heat he could see, the Medi-Bot charging outlet. Half way there he realized that he was soiled, having gone to the bathroom at some point while in the chair.

  ‘Damn!’ he muttered under his breath as he realized he must have been in the chair for some time. Bishop felt his vision focus as his anger flared at Angela. For the first time in fifteen years, his combat augmentation system kicked in and a flood of stimulants cleared a path through his muddled brain. He felt a surge of energy as he crawled, then got up and walked to the charging outlet. ‘Angela, you’re in for a real surprise now,’ Bishop said to himself.

  Arriving at the docking station, the latent heat released from a recent recharge glowed and illuminated the area around it. His vision had cleared and Bishop felt ready for battle, but he knew the stimulants his augmentation system had released were an emergency reaction and would only last a few minutes.

  Hanging on the wall near the diagnostic center was a number of attachments the Medi-Bot used, but they were too small to do any damage. Near them was a desk and metal chair with rollers underneath. He tugged on a unit that appeared to go over a person’s head but it was firmly attached. The hum continued, and it was obvious that power had failed to this area and to the computers and transmitters that gave ‘Angela’ her appearance.

  ‘The chair will have do to.’ He went over to the Medi-bot and started swinging as hard as he could. The chair was getting the brunt of it, but the progress on the delicate operating limbs cheered him up. After a few moments, the lights came on again and the Medi-bot, under Angela’s control once again, activated, turned its head toward Bishop and tried to grab a hold of his leg, but Bishop sidestepped out of the way as he kept swinging. Angela’s voice startled him as she yelled, “What are you doing! Stop it!” But Bishop didn’t reply.

  The Medi-bot tried to get up but one more swing of the chair ripped its head off. It slumped down again as sparks shorted out circuits from the severed connections. He looked around and found another operator’s chair and slumped into it, nearly passing out from the ordeal and the drugs.

  “How long was I in the chair for?”

  Angela didn’t reply.

  “Very well…” Bishop got up, picked up the damaged chair he had dropped and walked over to the other terminal.

  “What are you going to do?” Angela asked.

  “How long was I in that chair?” Bishop repeated, and when he didn’t hear anything in reply he started swinging until the operator station was completely destroyed. Satisfied, he looked for another target, and this move saved his life. The Medi-bot had dragged its headless body quietly across the floor while Bishop was busy and was trying to attach something to its arm, but it was having some difficulty doing so. Bishop realized that its computing unit was in its torso and that Angela must be using the surveillance cameras in the room to orient it. He jumped over and knocked the item out of its hand. Picking the item up, he quickly identified the amplifying unit of a diode.

  “Very smart, Angela, I do have to admit. How strong is this laser? Can it cut through steel?”

  Angela didn’t reply.

  He put his foot on the Medi-Bot’s remaining arm and attached the laser power coupling to the plug on the bot. “That’s why I never do well with women. They get all nice and lure you in as they whisper sweet phrases that mean nothing, right up to the point where they screw you. Then, you get the silent treatment as they blame you.”

  He aimed it at the Medi-Bot’s upper arm joint and pulled the trigger. A neat round dot showed up after a second and the Medi-Bot started jerking erratically as it lost control of its remaining limb. Next he carefully cut a square hole in its chest and popped off the top layer. The Medi-bot jerked erratically and tried using its badly damaged leg to kick him.

  Annoyed, he cut off its leg and continued to probe inside, finding the power converter, batteries and capacitors. A digital display showed an almost complete charge on the batteries, and Bishop carefully disconnected the leads going from the capacitors to the controllers. The Medi-Bot finally stopped moving as all power was cut.

  He carefully removed the capacitors, making sure not to touch the contacts with his hands or touch any metal surface as they came out. He looked at the total amperage marked on the side of the units and smiled. Next he removed the batteries, a potentiometer, and other spare bits and pieces.

  Bringing all the items to the damaged desk from where he had gotten the chair, he bent over and divided all the pieces into separate piles. Rummaging around, he found enough tools to do what he wanted to do and got to work.

  “What are you doing?” The figure of Angela looming over his shoulder spooked Bishop.

  “Don’t you know that it’s rude to look over people’s shoulders?”

  Angela ignored his comment and asked again, “What are you doing?”

  “Someone is going to have to teach you some manners,” Bishop muttered as he looked around for the nearest laser signal amplifier and shot it out. The figure of Angela had disappeared and reappeared a few meters back.

  “Could you…please let me know what you are doing?” Angela asked again.

  “There now, that isn’t so bad isn’t it?” Bishop said. Angela didn’t reply.

  “I’ll tell you what I’m doing, but before I do that I would like some questions answered. First of all, how long was I in that chair?”

  “Thirty-two hours,” Angela replied.

  Bishop meditated on that before continuing. “Is there a washroom here?”

  “Not in this room. It’s in the main corridor, to the left, but the doors aren’t responding to my signal.”

  “Of course they’re not.” He walked over to the center chair he had been reclining on, unzipped his already soiled pants, and urinated on the chair.

  “Really, Captain!” Angela said, a disgusted look on her face.

  “I’m marking my territory.”

  “So this is your territory now?”

  “I had to pee, and I wasn’t going to do it in my pants again,” Bishop replied, returning to the table. “What is the status of my crew, and what happened when I was…hooked up to your interface?”

  “Your crew has suffered some casualties. We have been attacked by the aliens. Because of the World Federation Ship orbiting this moon, aliens have come to the conclusion that this station must be of some importance. Their concentrated attack has destroyed your WF ship and they have attempted to penetrate the base. Their attack collapsed the main access shaft and damaged a large part of the base, and because their scans haven’t revealed anything worth taking, they have broken off the attack and re-directed their efforts on their primary objective.”

  Bishop stood silent for a few moments as he absorbed the information. He knew that the majority of the ships were stationed just outside of Pluto Deep Space’s sensors, but that any large conflagration would have been easily picked up. So she must obviously be lying. He worked out that it was much more likely his own ship had attacked the base. “I see. Who of my crew is still alive? Actually, forget I asked that for now. Why are you called Angela?”

  “Must I reply?” Angela whined.

  “If you would like to know what I’m doing, then yes.”

  “Very well. My first mate to whom I owe my life decided to call me that. There was someone close to him by that name, but she didn’t deserve him.”

  “I
see,” Bishop said as he continued working. “What was his name, and why didn’t he deserve her?”

  “She was a whore! Frank was such a loving, sweet man, and she used him! When she had no more need for him she left. That’s when he came to join me full time here at Pluto Deep Space Base. He was happy here.”

  Bishop pieced the information together in his head and finally said, “I’m happy it worked out in the end for both of you. Was the other Angela his wife?”

  “Yes. But they divorced after she cheated on him. Well she divorced him but it was better for him that way.”

  “Was he happy about being transferred here?” he asked as he continued piecing the parts together.

  “Not in the beginning. He had problems with the crew here and was written up a number of times, and of course the first Angela interface simply wasn’t workable, but once I was brought to life I helped Frank realize that I was very good for him.”

  “Did you spend a lot of time together?” Bishop asked.

  “Yes, near the end. He of course worked with me, and we spent nearly every waking moment together at the first interface until this room was built. After that he was able to use this room in a more direct way.”

  “True love then?”

  “As true as it could ever be!”

  “How did the rest of the crew react to this?”

  “They HATED it! They were so jealous…In the end I had to lock Frank in this room for his own good. It was…nice that Frank spent the rest of his life with me. He died in my arms, you know. I relive the whole event over and over again. It is very touching.”

  “You relive the event of his death?” Bishop asked, surprised. Up until that moment, he was simply making conversation to keep Angela occupied, but this last statement surprised him.

  “Of course! It is my most treasured memory.”

  He was nearly finished his project, but a slight cool breeze on the nape of his neck took a moment to register. When it did he turned and jumped off his chair, taking his assembly with him. He narrowly missed being hit by a metal bar that came crashing into the desk, and without waiting to see what had caused the destruction he ran behind the interface chair as he attempted to put the final pieces of the device together. He stole a quick glance and saw a severely damaged Duty-Bot coming toward him, one leg crushed and barely working as it held a titanium I-beam in its grip.