by C. F. WALLER
“Maybe not, but’s still just a game,” Kara shakes her head. “Not a person.”
“Is he?” Weiss taunts her. “Why don’t you play awhile, then get back to me.”
I am reminded of the dive guy’s tiny robot. They spoke to it as if it could hear and understand them. Where exactly does Artificial Intelligence begin or end? Is there a line of demarcation, and are we already past it? How screwed are we?
“Don’t be quite so proud,” Kara wags a finger at him.
“Why not help us?” I cut in, trying to get back on message. “Keep a lot of people from getting hurt.”
“Oh, forget it,” Kara whines, getting up and walking away. “He’s useless.”
She passes me, but only gets to the door before Weiss speaks.
“Lady Grey, do let me know how the Turing test comes out.”
“Piss off,” Kara grunts, plowing past Hal, who stands just outside the door, talking on his cell.
“What’s wrong with her?” he asks, one hand over his phone.
“Hard to say, but if she needed some motivation, she’s got it now.”
Chapter Twenty-eight
Hours pass as I watch the Dynasty Builder World Champion studying the screen. She pecks for a while, then simply stares. At one point Katz shows up to check on us, but for the most part it’s a waiting game.
“You want some lunch?” I interrupt.
“I could eat,” Kara mutters, then rubs her eyes and pushes away from the cheap hotel desk. “This is going nowhere.”
“Let’s go down to the bar and order some real food.”
“Okay, let me find a good place to stop,” she yawns, arms over her head in a long stretch.
I dial Hal to let him know what we are up to. Watching her, I still worry about what happens to her when this gets shut down? We have both been privy to more classified information than Hillary’s e-mail server.
“What’s up?” Hal answers.
“We are going to go down to the bar and grab some lunch.”
“That’s fine.”
“Thought you’d want to know.”
The lights flicker, then go out, the room illuminated by only the blue glow of the laptop. I expect them to come back on, but they don’t. Kara leans to her right and pulls one set of blinds back, bringing the room into focus.
“Are your lights out?” I ask.
“Yeah, probably nothing,” Hal mutters, then goes on. “I really think—.”
He’s talking, but I lower the phone. Kara utters a stream of expletives, then pushes her chair back from the desk.
“Language young lady,” I joke, but my face is tense. “Is there a problem?”
“In a way?”
“In a, I dropped my fish taco bad way or a, I got shanked in prison bad way?” I press, having not seen her this angry on previous occasions.
“I think we should go somewhere else.”
“Could I get a little clarification on that?”
“Persia just declared war on you,” she explains, looking over. “On us really, all of us.”
“No, I talked to him last night. We’re good.”
“All evidence to the contrary,” she frowns, turning the laptop to face me.
On the screen a fighter jet leaves a trail of smoke behind it as it moves over the Pacific toward the California coastline. Kara notices me struggling to understand, then pushes down the F10 key turning the sound up. The screech of a jet engine fills the room.
“It’s a game, he’s not bombing California,” I argue.
“The power outage took out the television and radios. We certainly wouldn’t know if he was.”
“How are you on the internet if the power’s out?”
“Weiss has a 4G phone inside the machine.”
“Fine, check the internet news.”
Without answering, she ignores me, snapping the laptop shut. I hold out my hands in annoyance, but receive an indignant look in return. She hooks her shoulder through the loop on her backpack. The ever upbeat Hello Kitty smiles at me while Kara gathers up her things.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“A safe distance from this hotel,” she answers calmly, slipping her tiny purse in the backpack and pulling the zipper shut. “You should warn your people.”
“This is a massive overreaction,” I complain as she passes me, opening the door.
“If you’re right, you can tease me later. If I’m right, you take your chances in the rubble. In either case, I won’t be dead.”
She exits, turning right and walking briskly down the hall. I stand in the doorway watching, then hear Hal’s voice coming from the phone. She turns the corner and disappears from view. Lifting the phone, I catch Hal half way through a sentence.
“—to the lobby, then look for Katz.”
“Come again?”
“Go to the lobby and look for Katz,” he orders, then the call ends.
Glancing back down the hall, I don’t see anyone rushing to the exits. I put my cigarettes in my blazer pocket, then snatch up my coffee and start to the lobby. I pause, looking back at my suitcase, then chuckle.
“If I pack and nothing happens, I’ll look pretty stupid.”
The lobby is calm. People stand annoyed at the counter waiting for the power to come back on. I don’t see Agent Katz, but decide to slip out the sliding doors to have a smoke. Two valets in gold uniforms lean on a podium. One is older, say fifty, but the second is very young. He glances over and nods, then pushes off the podium and straightens his jacket by pulling on the bottom.
“Can I help you Ma’am? Do you need a cab?”
I shake my head, the cigarette dangling off my lips, then I light it, coughing slightly.
“No thanks, I’m good.”
“Okay, just let me know if you change your mind,” he offers in a very sincere tone.
I nod, noting the older valet frowning at his partner’s persistence.
“What’s your name?”
“Billy,” he answers politely, pointing to a nametag.
I nod a reply, deciding to mention how helpful Billy was to the people at the front desk. Folks are quick to complain about bad service, but almost never complement the opposite. In my opinion, people are the worst.
I drift around the circular entrance looking for any sign of Kara, but can’t find her. It’s sunny and warm, not a cloud in the sky. Tires squeal from the direction of the main road, then a black sedan with tinted windows races up the curved drive and slams to a stop in front of me. The passenger window rolls down revealing my old friend, Agent Katz.
“Let’s go,” she barks, sounding nastier than usual.
Before I can reply, Hal slaps me on the back, having rushed past the valets. When I don’t move, he pulls open the front door and hops in. The looks on their faces is grim, so I get in back, flicking my butt on the sidewalk. Better to be alive now, so I can complain later.
The car rockets around the oval, then out onto the side road. Turning right onto the busy street we go only a half block, then see Kara wandering down the sidewalk. At Hal’s direction, we slow to a stop, resulting in the blare of horns from cars forced to slow down. As Kara turns around, Hal glances back and forth between us, as if I should say something. When I don’t, he waves for her to get in.
“A little help,” Hal grunts, when she crosses her arms over her chest defiantly.
“Hop in!” I shout, pushing open the back door and sliding over. “You made your point.”
She grins in a satisfied way, then accepts Hal’s invitation. We breeze down the road, slowing at a light, then heading onto a highway entrance ramp.
“Hey, is my suitcase back there?”
“You should have listened to me,” Kara snorts, bumping her shoulder on mine.
“You’re paranoid,” I whisper, but then the car bobbles and slows.
A metal on metal crashing sound explodes from behind us. Katz slams on the brakes, but we hit the car in front of us, turning the hood int
o a wall. We didn’t hit all that hard as Kara and I don’t fly through the windshield glass, but bounce off the front seats. Our car is tapped from behind. When I sit up the cars on either side are stopped or rolling to a halt.
“EMP,” Hal remarks, looking both ways before stepping out. “Starburst pod.”
“Starburst what?” Kara mutters, confused.
“Yeah,” I frown, recalling talk of the starburst pod from the hanger in Florida. “Wait, you think here?”
I join Katz and Hal as they exit the car. Kara remains in the car, happy with having been right. Behind us, vehicles are stacked up twenty deep, but crashes and squealing can be heard in the distance.
“EMP is a line of sight weapon,” Katz, eyes me then Hal. “Cars outside the radius aren’t affected, they’re just having trouble stopping.”
“It was safer in the hotel,” I complain, pulling a cigarette out with my teeth. “Losing the mini-fridge wouldn’t have been a picnic, but I would have survived it.”
“You’re hilarious,” Hal groans.
Overhead there is a distant whistling that gains volume. Squinting into the bright sky reveals a trail of white smoke painting over the blue in a straight line, then arcing down and hitting the hotel. I’m frozen in disbelief as the lower section where the two valets where leaning on their podium, bursts into a fireball. What just happened? I watch, as the entire structure bows in the center.
“That was a JDAM,” Katz mumbles.
A screeching sound assaults our ears, followed by a pressure wave of some sort. An unseen jet screams over our heads, leaving behind a boom that pops my ears. Whatever it was disappears into the horizon before I can gather my wits. The roof of the hotel seems to melt in the center, then the entire building collapses. A wall of grey soot and smoke moves towards us, washing over the streets in between like a lava flow.
“Back in the car,” Hal shouts.
Our group dives back inside the car without having to be told twice. We wait as the cloud slows, only a thin haze reaching our position. A film of grey powder covers the windshield, then Katz taps the wipers, blowing the debris to either side. No one speaks, but I get a queer look from Hal when he sees I’m still smoking. I shrug, wondering what he’d like me to do with it. There aren’t any ashtrays and rolling down the window would seem unwise.
“JDAM?” I inquire, poking Katz in the back.
“Yeah, that’s what they carry.”
“That’s what who carries?” I complain. “Could you possibly elaborate on that?”
“I got a call that an F-22 got loose during a live fire exercise,” Hal explains, waving a hand for Katz to shut up. “They told me it was heading our way. Once the power cut out it seemed prudent to leave.”
“How’d she know?” Katz frowns, pointing over the seat at Kara.
“Something she saw on the laptop.”
The proverbial dust having settled, I climb out of the car to survey the damage. Once again Kara stays seated. No first responders have arrived, but the EMP killed all the vehicles close by and the traffic snarl will make it hard for any help to get close. I’m suddenly aware that there aren’t any people outside of the hotel. No horrified ring of people who got out just in time.
“You didn’t warn anyone,” I balk. “You got yourself out, but didn’t sound the alarm.”
“If I did, then you don’t get out,” he argues. “We only got away because no one else was running. In the chaos, we would have all been trapped.”
Several drivers standing amongst the lines of dead cars take notice of the conversation. I try to lower my voice, but it’s infuriating.
“You’re unbelievable,” I growl through gritted teeth, then have another thought. “Where’s Weiss? Where are your other guys? I thought there were two more?”
“I sent Barnes and Noble out the back,” Katz cuts in defensively. “They’ll be fine.”
“And Weiss?” I ask, rubbing my forehead as I hold the cigarette, nearly burning my bangs. “Is Weiss with them?”
No one answers, leaving me with the assumption that Hal left him inside. Was it on purpose or just collateral damage? These sorts of things bother me as I’d prefer not to be deemed expendable in the future. Is this a government organization or military? How would the U.S. government get away with not warning civilians? What the heck did I get myself involved in?
“Well, this has been awesome, but I’m getting off this ride,” I grunt, turning in a circle, then heading back toward the entry ramp.
“No, Lyds,” Kara cries, slipping out her of side of the car and shuffling after me.
I stop, leaning down to whisper in her ear.
“Whatever your complicated relationship with Elliott Weiss was. Hal just left him to die back there. I’d prefer we aren’t next.”
“Bastard,” she grunts in Hal’s direction.
I set off, weaving through the maze of cars. I’m initially surprised Hal doesn’t come after me. Maybe I am expendable. Kara and I thread our way between cars for a half mile before a simpler answer presents itself. Barnes and Noble are walking towards us, coming from the hotel on-ramp. I slow, Kara bumping into me from behind.
“I don’t suppose this is a whacky coincidence?” I shrug.
“No Ma’am,” Barnes informs me. “You need to go the other way.”
“You gonna try and stop me?” I cross my arms, looking around at the other people walking along. “Plenty of witnesses here.”
“No,” he sighs, then lowers his voice to a whisper as he gets close. “You’re walking into the blast area. The EMP only took out a little over a square mile.” If we go two miles, the other way. A car will be will be waiting for us at the interchange.”
“You may not be aware, but I quit the Mickey Mouse Club,” I frown, holding out my phone. “Here, take my decoder ring.”
“Alright,” he whispers, putting his hand on top of my phone and lowering my arm. “How about this. There are witnesses and probably surveillance video showing you fleeing the hotel moments before it got hit. Given that, do you want to walk toward the people investigating the big bad terrorist attack or away from them?”
“On second thought,” I groan, rethinking my position. “Your way looks nice.”
“Excellent choice,” he snickers, which I find inappropriate.
I do an about-face, bumping into Kara. She’s scowling past me at Barnes, backpack over one shoulder, Weiss’ laptop clutched across her chest.
“Let’s go,” I nudge her back from where we came.
“Take the battery out of your phone,” she demands. “Right now, shut it down.”
“Let’s keep moving,” Noble insists, pushing me a little.
“Hey, stop that,” Kara whines.
“Just hold on a minute,” I spin around. “Are you Barnes or Noble?”
“Noble, Ma’am.”
“And the other guy is Barnes?” I ask, pointing past him to the guy I recall from Hal’s hotel room.
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“Did it ever occur to anyone that you two shouldn’t be partners?”
“Why is that?”
“Because when your boss shouts, Where’s Barnes and Noble? people think he wants to buy a book.”
“Very funny,” he smirks, “but not the first time I’ve heard that.”
“That’s actually why it’s funny,” I argue. “You understand the irony, but remain partners.”
“Take the battery out,” Kara pesters me, slapping my arm. “Darius is talking to you on that phone. He’s probably using it to track you.”
“You think the missile was intended for me?” I gasp, pulling out the battery as we are lead back the opposite way.
“He declared war.”
“In that case,” I groan, raising my arm to toss the phone off the overpass.
“No, no, no,” Noble barks, catching my hand and taking the cell phone.
“Here,” I joke, holding out the battery. “You’ll need this, just don’t stand too close to me whe
n you plug it back in.”
Chapter Twenty-nine
I watch Kara peck away on the laptop, the glare of the sunrise fighting its way past the drapes. The room is musty, this motel probably dates back to the fifties. It’s a one-story strip mall style with a rattling A/C unit and limited hot water. The line of parking spaces along the front leaves only six feet between the bumpers and the door. Each time a car parked last night, a flash of headlights exploded into the room. It’s only redeeming feature is that it’s seaside, which is nullified by our circumstances. This is not a vacation.
After avoiding the missile attack, we cruised up the Pacific Coast Highway to Dana Point, which I have never heard of, then Hal stuck us in these tacky rooms. I lay awake half the night contemplating Hal’s decision not to sound the alarm at the hotel. Who does Hal report to?
Since sleeping wasn’t an option, I filled the hours watching television. News coverage of the hotel explosion runs non-stop on CNN. The media already has a series of satellite images showing the whole mess, as well as some video from a bank security camera. Even though this is a big news story, I notice there is not one mention of the underwater airplane graveyard. I flip past BBC to check, but even outside the U.S., that mysterious tale has yet to hit the wires. They didn’t tell anyone about that either.
As the hours pass, I am haunted even more deeply by the hotel imploding. The people who were staying there are dead because of me. Right now, some woman’s phone is ringing and the caller is telling her a loved one has died. A phone call which I can understand all too well.
Since losing my suitcase, I am left in a scratchy shower towel. There’s a self-serve laundry room in our motel and my clothes were filthy. Given that a secret government Drone went rouge and used a missile to kill my wardrobe, I deputized Kara to take them down this morning. Why she was up at five is beyond me. The girl barely sleeps.
My clothes are currently in the dryer, so I will be able to join Hal in the lounge soon enough. Having already heard all that CNN has to offer, Fox News runs on the television, but the volume’s turned down. We are just watching the breaking news ribbon. Katz knocks on the door, but has a key and walks in before Kara can get up. Yes, this hotel has metal keys instead of slide cards. She enters, setting a cup carrier with three covered cups and a paper bag with Dynamo Doughnuts emblazoned on the side.