Bugs

by Arrvada .

B.U.G.S.

  By

  Arrvada

  Copyright 2012 Leah Isom

  Cover Illustration Copyright 2012 Kainan Becker

  Chapter One

  Cheyenne saw a flash of movement from the corner of her eye as she was glancing down at her radio. Her head snapped back up as two forms raced in front of her headlights. She slammed on the brakes, wrenched the wheel and braced herself. There was a scream of tires and then a sickening thunk as her truck hit what she had tried to avoid. She braced harder on the brake pedal, hands gripped on the wheel, eyes pressed closed as the truck jolted, than settled to a stop in the center of the two lane highway.

  Her heart was pounding in her throat, her shoulders and back tensed, her scalp tingling and she wondered briefly if she was going to suddenly become a silent film star and swoon right there in the cab of her Chevy. She sat there with her eyes closed, her breathing the only sound. She didn’t want to, but she forced her eyes to open and she lifted her head, terrified of what she was going to see.

  It wasn’t Bambi.

  ***

  The plans were perfect, the execution flawless, yet he knew control was all illusion. He knew that better than anyone else. What they were attempting had never been done, nor would it be done if they did not ignore the risks involved. He knew this, how could he not when he had designed the things? But no matter how much he wanted to succeed, how desperately he wanted to see his creation attain life, he couldn’t quite justify his actions should he actually say, yes.

  Dr. Cameron Bradford stepped up to the glass that separated him from his lab. Why did he resist? Kline was certain it would work and he couldn’t deny that it would. He knew it would. But Kline was an optimist and not likely to let worry of failure or worse, sway him from his goals. And no one understood, it wasn’t fear of failure that made him hesitate. It was easy for Kline, for any of the others to press on. But in the end it wasn’t Kline’s call to make, no, it was his. He was the one who had to make the decision to give that last breath of life to his creation, a choice that could not be undone once made. He couldn’t understand his hesitation, not when he had worked the past five years of his life to reach that day, that moment. Still, passions and hard work aside, he hesitated.

  He didn’t fear failure, no he knew they would work, they were perfect, he had made them that way. Yes, they were perfect and that was why he feared them.

  “Dr. Bradford?” He didn’t turn to look at the young lab assistant. “Shall I tell Dr.Kline to begin?”

  “No, tell him to wait.”

  “Wait?” Behind him Colonel Reginald Sharpe stepped forward. “Wait for what?”

  “They’re not ready.” Cameron turned from the glass to face the older man. He met the gaze that challenged him, that told him just what this man thought of civilians and especially scientists.

  “In your report you specifically stated they had passed all preliminary testing and that you recommend taking the next step.”

  “I know what my report said. But that was… before.”

  “Before what?”

  “Before I knew they could self replicate.”

  “And…?”

  “Don’t you understand? If they can self replicate then there is no telling what else they’re capable of.”

  “You designed them.”

  “Yes, but I didn’t program them for that. I designed them to evolve, on a basic level, but with specific parameters. They should not be capable of reproduction. I need more time to monitor them, more lab trials before we attempt to use them on a human subject. We need to know just what they are capable of.”

  “Your concerns have been noted, Doctor, however we are not releasing them into an uncontrolled environment, they will be contained at all times.”

  “I still feel we should postpone-“

  “The testing will proceed as planned.”

  “Colonel-“

  “Dr. Bradford we’ve been very patient with you over the past five years. Now that you finally have tangible results we will not allow you to hinder the project with your unfounded concerns.”

  “Unfounded concerns?” Anger punched color into Cameron’s face. “They were designed on a live model, they are the most highly developed technology in the world with the ability to evolve and replicate and you think I have no cause for concern? I designed the damn things; I know what they are supposed to do. And they aren’t supposed to replicate!”

  Colonel Sharpe turned away and headed for the door. “Either give Kline the go ahead or find yourself replaced, Dr. Bradford.”

  The door closed behind him ending the conversation and leaving Cameron trapped in a current of events he couldn’t change. He ran a hand through his hair, every nerve inside of him trembling with rage, but his appearance remained calm, his voice level as he turned to the speaker box mounted beside the plate glass window separating him from the lab.

  “Kline, it’s a go.”

  Even as he said the words he knew it was a mistake. But they had given him no other choice, they had literally taken it out of his hands, his participation was fictitious at this point, an illusion to maintain appearances. He would get the credit superficially if the tests succedded, and if they didn’t? He would get all the blame.

  He watched through the window, separated by more than glass as Kline typed in the series of code they had prepared, bringing them online for the final stage of testing.

  In theory it was simple; one NANO system could be brought online to implant itself into a willing subject. Once brought online it would take control of the subject’s motor skills and from there enable Kline and Cameron to take full control. For five years that had been the goal, a potential end to warfare, to terrorist cells, to implement peace, through total control. Once perfected all the United States would have to do would be unleash the NANO systems into an enemy populous and they would have full control. Turning enemies into friends without a single loss of life.

  Of course the moral ramifications were huge and even the slightest hint of what they were attempting to do within those walls would have brought the wrath of every liberal and special interest group in the world down on them. Not that Cameron would have blamed them. He was attempting the creation of a device that would potentially rob a human of their free will. He was also about to place the ability for total global domination into the hands of a nation and military that already had the potential to take over the world. How had something that had started simply as a biomechanical replica of insect life turned into such a nightmare? They were now a Biomechanical Universal Governing System, essentially mind control devices, and he had created them. This had not been what he had wanted or what he had started out to do, no he had created them to work to replicate the human nervous system, to repair and replace damaged nerves and cells in paralysis victims. That is what they had started out as, yet somehow, the spiral of time and subtle urging and pushing found him here. Here, poised to unleash a new form of weaponized terror on the world should the test prove a success.

  He leaned his brow against the cool glass. He should have let Sharpe fire him. He closed his eyes, no, that would have been as much a cowards path as the one he had taken. He should have stopped them long ago, long before it had gone so far. Whatever harm his creation caused would be his sin alone, no matter how much he wished to deny it. He just prayed nothing did happen that they would all regret.

  Kline turned back toward the glass, flashing the thumbs up sign. The first NANO was online. The subject, a willing participant, one of their researchers smiled toward the glass and Cameron forced the worry out of his expression. He smiled back even though everything inside of him tightened up as Kline approached the subject. The patient looked up at Kline. Cameron could
n’t hear what he said, but saw him smile and laugh at Kline’s response. As planned Kline’s assistant tightened ankle and wrist restraints on the subject, then stood patiently by as Kline lifted the syringe that held the activated NANO. He knew it was barely visible without a microscope, not even flea sized, so the use of the syringe was merely to simplify the introduction of the specimen into the subject’s ear canal.

  Cameron found himself holding his breath as Kline slid the tip of the syringe into the subject’s ear and depressed the viscous liquid that held the NANO. The subject made a look of distaste and laughed at whatever Kline’s assistant said. Cameron watched him for another moment, than forced himself to step away from the glass to his computer. He forced himself to sit and pull up the screen. The NANO sat still, a green blip in a blue screen, an x-ray version of the room beyond the window. He pressed a key and the view zoomed in until he was looking only at the subjects head. The NANO was still a small green blip that still had not moved. He turned to another monitor, scanning the commands Kline had entered. Everything was correct, the NANO was indeed online. Why then hadn’t it moved? Had it been damaged during the injection? He looked back to the blue outline of the subjects head and again at the small neon green light.

  “Klin-" The name froze on his lips as the NANO suddenly moved with sickening speed toward the subject’s brain. He watched as the subjects vitals dropped shockingly low and he could faintly hear the panicked voices come to him through the glass. The green light hit the cerebral cortex and the vitals crashed to nothing.

  Cameron bolted out of his chair and rushed to the window. Behind him the chair spun wildly across the room, bounced off the wall and then crashed to the floor. He felt trapped behind the class as he watched Kline and his assistant struggle to bring the subject back to life. Behind him the heart monitor had flat lined and ran in a continuous pale green line. Panicked minutes drug out and the subject was dead. Cameron leaned his forehead against the glass, suddenly very weary. He closed his eyes, listening to the silence of the room.

  “Cam.”

  He opened his eyes.

  “Cam.”

  His head lifted until his eyes met Kline’s through the glass. Kline smiled and pointed toward the subject. “He’s fine.”

  Cameron’s eyes flashed past Kline to where the subject was sitting forward while Kline’s assistant removed his restraints. Cam straightened away from the glass, relief rushing through him in a hot flood. “Oh, thank God.”

  Kline laughed, “Did you really think we’d fail?”

  Their eyes met and Cam just shook his head at the arrogance that had so easily reasserted itself. He just smiled and turned away. He turned away from the window and Kline moved back to check the subject. Cam’s eyes skimmed over the monitor, over the blue screen to the subjects vitals. The pulse was still in flat line. His hand found the switch to the speaker box beside the window behind him.

  “Kline, you need to reattach his leads, I’m still getting a flat line.”

  Silence greeted him. Then a wet thud hit the glass behind him, causing him to jerk back from the computer screen in front of him. He spun around, everything inside of him freezing as he stared into Kline’s face pressed against the glass. Blood oozed from the scientist’s mouth and nose, his eyes grossly blank. His body shifted, shoved up against the glass and Cam’s eyes lifted to see that the test subject was holding Kline there, blood running in thin red lines from both of his ears, his eyes welling blood like red tears. The man’s hands were locked around Kline’s throat, but Kline was already dead. The subjects eyes were blood rimmed, wild shoots of vein cutting through the white and they shifted, sickeningly slow to meet Cam’s through the glass.

  There was nothing behind those eyes, the thought, the consciousness, the soul, gone, but still they saw him and the lips curled back into a feral snarl. Cam staggered back, tripping over the chair left behind him, nearly falling in a sudden rush of horror and panic. The subject released Kline and the scientist slid limply to the ground. The scientist fell with a wet thunk of blood and flesh on the ground, forgotten as the subject focused on Cam. It moved forward as if to lung, but the heavy glass stopped it. It stumbled back, snarled, then slapped at the glass with blood smeared hands. The window rattled under the force, again, again, until it was slamming fists and body against the glass, smearing it with blood and spit. The mouth was twisted in a snarl, but there was nothing but the sound of Cam’s breathing in the room. Time, breath, thought, everything slowed as Cam stood there, disbelief numbing fear, numbing panic that should have made him flee. Instead he watched in numb fascination as the man went mad.

  The glass resisted the assault, and the world around Cam was smeared with blood, a liquid red wash, like some surreal dream. Time passed, how long, he couldn’t have said, but long enough for the man to know it couldn’t get to him. It jerked to a stop, stared at Cam through the smear of blood, face, eyes slack, the essence that was human gone. The arms lowered to its sides with a sudden, sinking movement like a puppet whose strings had been cut, shoulders slouching, then it turned, blood and spit running in a slick rivulet over its lips and shambled away. It moved, with stiff and awkward paces like a creature from a B-rated zombie movie. It walked across the room to stop before the sealed case that held the rest of the NANOs. Slowly, with stilted movements as if someone else was manipulating his movements, it lifted its fist and dropping it, smashed the glass on the top of the case. It reached in, through the glass, ignoring the jagged shards that shredded its hand and form arm and gathered up a handful of what appeared to be silver sand, a handful of dormant NANOs. Cupping its hand carefully it staggered to the computer and as Cam watched in frozen horror and sickened fascination it began keying in the activation sequence.

  Cam couldn’t seem to turn away as the NANOs activated. He watched it, knew it was happening and yet couldn’t seem to make himself believe it really was. There was no way…It was like some twisted nightmare and any moment he expected to wake up sweating in his bed. But he didn’t and he knew it was real, so real and he couldn’t make himself move to stop it. Behind him the monitor confirmed that all two thousand were online. As he watched the handful seemed to vibrate and then began to swarm up the subjects arm. The man turned from the computer and moved awkwardly, dropping to its knees to crouch over the dead lab assistant. Cam moved closer to the class, trying to see through the blood stains just what it was doing, but its back was turned to him. As he watched he saw the body on the ground twitch, then spasm like someone had just run an electrical current through it. The subject rose, staggered up to his feet turning once more towards the glass. Behind him the woman slowly sat up, then she to lurched to her feet.

  Cam’s mouth was dry, his heard pounding now, thick heavy thuds that beat behind his eyes like a fist. His skin went tight with unbidden chills as the woman too approached the window. He slowly back away on legs that felt tight and useless as the female came closer, right up to the glass and pressed against it as she began to slam her fists against its already blood smeared surface. The man knelt again, disappearing beneath the line of the window so Cam couldn’t see him. Cam turned, made himself turn away, hurrying to his computer, his heart still jumping in his chest as he prayed it wasn’t too late to fix what his creation had done. But it was. The program was locked; there was no way to deactivate them from that console. He needed to get to the main computer inside the lab. He watched them, watched as they watched him.

  It was then he reached for the phone.

  ***

  It was Sharpe’s indecisiveness, his desire not to destroy what he thought of as a perfect weapon that enabled their escape. If he wasn’t living it, Cam would never have believed it. He had opted for their destruction, demanded it, pushed for it, but Sharpe would not hear of it. Instead he opened the lab, sending soldiers in to secure it so Cam could deactivate the NANOs. Once more Cam found himself looking through the glass at his la
b where horror movie and reality had coalesced into a living nightmare. Sharpe stood beside him, brazenly confident of a situation Cam wasn’t sure would ever be resolved. He watched as the outside door to the lab opened, watched as three beings, once human, turned with feral snarls and blood shot eyes as the three soldiers entered, weapons raised. The soldiers advanced and the three scientists moved toward them, ignoring orders to stand down. He couldn’t hear through the glass, didn’t hear the gun shots when they were fired, he just saw the bullets rip through people he had worked with everyday for the past five years. Watched the blood spray, watched all three fall and the soldiers lowered their guns. They looked toward the glass and signaled to Sharpe.

  Sharpe turned to Cam, “They’re ready for you, Doctor.”

  His skin felt tight, his mouth dry as he forced himself forward to open the door. He could smell the death; it was a wet, hot smell. The nausea that flooded him as he stepped into the room was not from the gore that covered the floor and walls, it was from guilt. He was to blame. He was responsible. He should have never released his control.

  He forced himself to cross the floor, having to step around blood and what had once been his friends. He reached the computer and had to pause long enough to wipe blood from the keyboard before he was able to attempt to regain control. He brought up the protocols, the program with no problem, but when he tried to deactivate the NANOs the program erred. There shouldn’t have been a problem, and there wasn’t one. At least none that he could see. There had been no changes made to his program, no changes to anything. But the NANOs refused to obey. They remained active even when he keyed in the kill code he had imbedded in their core programming, a kill code he had purposely designed without Sharpe’s or even Kline’s knowledge. But that didn’t work either. They didn’t respond, they didn’t listen, and most frightening, they were reproducing.

  Behind him he could hear the soldiers dragging the bodies aside. He knew they would be loaded into body bags and taken down stairs to the facilities internal morgue. They would be dissected, the NANOs retrieved and maybe he could find out what the hell had gone so wrong. He made himself focus on the computer, on a screen still splashed with blood and shut out the gruesome noises behind him. He scrolled through the lines of code, still not seeing what had gone wrong, still not seeing why they wouldn’t obey. They were reading his commands, but they were somehow ignoring them. None of this should have happened. None of it should still have been happening.