The Final Wars End

by S A Asthana

  Reo backed away from the three men that once served him. “Disgusting.” His eyes seared their limp, unconscious bodies. “They are animals.”

  Bastien crouched next to the family. The wife howled over her husband’s corpse. “They are killing us one by one.” Gunfire erupted somewhere in the distance. Screams followed. The neighborhood was turning into a genocidal cesspool. “What did we do?” she cried.

  “We need to get out of here.” Bastien’s hand rested on her slumped shoulder as he consoled her. “For the safety of your children. Think about them in this dark hour.” He leaned toward her ear. “They need you now more than ever before.”

  “My children.” She calmed some, as if her senses homed in on the importance of her family’s survival. Eyes blinked away tears. “Yes, I can’t let them die.” The boys pressed into her. “My everything.”

  “I will save you.” Bastien’s jaw clenched with resolve. He turned to Reo who stood over the police officers. “Is there anywhere we can go that is safe? We need to escape this neighborhood.”

  “Yes,” Reo shouted over the cacophony of sirens blaring blocks away.

  “We can use these back alleys.” Greg stepped forward, pistol in hand, tears wetting eyes. “I know them well. There’s a way out.”

  “Let’s go.” Bastien urged the family to follow. Reo stood still, his gaze fixed on the policemen as the group trudged forward. Bastien pressed, “Let’s move, Reo – we need you to step up.”

  His left hand reached for his holster. Reo said, “They deserve to die.”

  Bastien grabbed his hand. “They will face their judgement day. It isn’t up to us.”

  “You’re a better man than me.” Reo sighed and walked past Bastien.

  It was obvious he didn’t share Bastien’s position. Not many did. General Crone’s voice seemed to reach out from a time long gone and admonished, “You’re a righteous buffoon, Bastien Lyons.”

  He shrugged off the image and followed after the group. “Just because we are surrounded by monsters doesn’t mean that we have to become one ourselves,” he said.

  “Monsters,” a dark voice echoed from behind. Bastien shot back a glance but nothing hid in the alley’s shadows. As he turned to follow the group, the voice, this time deeper and filled with malice as if it belonged to a demon, bellowed, “You are a monster, boy.”

  Shaken to the core, Bastien stopped. It was familiar. He turned. Two blood red eyes stared back from the shadows. With trembling lips he said, “No. You… you aren’t real. You already left me alone.”

  “Oh, did I?” The familiar pit-bull towered. The anxiety, the fear – it was back. “Perhaps I have been quietly observing you this whole time. Waiting to catch you at the right moment. Bastien, Viktor, or whatever you call yourself now.”

  An arm grabbed Bastien’s jacket. He shook, sweat streaming down his face. Greg said, “You coming?”

  He nodded and followed, working overtime to raise that white fence in his mind, as high as possible, to keep the beast out.

  CHAPTER 15: CUBE

  > POWER ON:: BOOT

  > RUN BIOS

  > RUN PRIMER TESTS 1, 5, 6, 7

  > COMPARE PRIMER RESULTS TO APKL PROCESSORS – confirmed

  > LOAD 5.xRTS OPERATING SYSTEM

  > LOAD CONFIGURATIONS

  Cube’s systems became operational again, and its eye turned from dead-black to red. It found itself splayed within a sprawling ditch, one with hundred foot high rocky walls. A crowd of humans, all men, stood at the edge of the ditch’s circular mouth. A bright blue sky loomed above. This was Earth. And these were pirates.

  > THREAT LEVEL: High

  Cube sat upright and ran a quick scan of its systems. As countless files assessed its disk space, memory and other computational elements, a pirate shouted down, “Well, look who’s up from their nap?” It was Alejandro Noriega. Several men laughed and pointed. There was a crackle in Cube’s audio unit – a sign of damage. The chest plate had a gaping hole where spears had pierced it. A mass of wires hung, their ends fizzing with electricity. Damage had been extensive – Cube’s scan confirmed.

  > DEFENSE AND ATTACK SYSTEMS: 30% operational.

  > GUN = missing.

  > JETPACK Fourth generation: 50% operational.

  > ARMOR: Damage incurred. 50% capacity.

  There were a host of other reports, none at the normal one hundred percent. The pirates had made a dent. Now, Cube was their prisoner. Thick, iron leg cuffs clamped tight around the ankles restricting motion, as did shackles around the wrists. Cube’s awkward attempts at standing, rolling from one side to the other, were meet with jeers.

  “Stupid humans,” it said.

  More taunts came its way. “Oh, yes, of course we are the stupid ones,” Alejandro grinned broadly. “You fucking robots are such geniuses.”

  Cube tried to walk with its normal gait but fell flat in a heap of dust. The pirates slapped their knees and bowled over with laughter. Alejandro shouted, “This is the best comedy I’ve seen since Jason tried fixing that cargo hauler.” It was an atmosphere of merriment, all at Cube’s expense.

  “All right, all right, let’s get down to business.” Alejandro waved a thick hand, and the others quieted. “We didn’t bring this bag of nuts and bolts just for giggles.”

  He turned and motioned for someone out of Cube’s line of sight to head over. Then, fixing his gaze back down upon the prisoner, he noted, “We are going to see what you’re truly made of, my friend. This is going to be fun.”

  A large, rusted freight truck pulled up behind him, its backend kissing the ditch’s edge as a plume of smoke burped out the exhaust. A strange noise came from within the enclosed cargo space. It sounded like hundreds of teeth chattering.

  “Open the back door!” Alejandro shouted at the truck’s driver. A loud metal screech reverberated as the enclosed cargo space tilted back, its door swiveling open. Cube stood still, watching, waiting. What was within?

  A waterfall of plump, black rats, each the size of a large human, poured out and into the ditch. Cube’s calculations surmised at least fifty. The creatures fell to the dirt floor kicking up plumes of translucent browns. They filled the space, first its circular edges and then, as more came down, the center. Cube’s head swiveled left to right.

  “You know something,” Alejandro started, “when these rats haven’t eaten for days, they’re in such a frenzy, they’ll eat anything – even one another. Even…” He paused. “Even a robot.” He let out a hearty laugh.

  The rodents formed a thick circle around the robot, their sharp incisors on display. They fell over one another as their hunger got the better of them. One lunged and bit Cube’s thigh, breaking an incisor against the metal. Another latched onto a finger in the left hand.

  “They’ll gut you!” Alejandro shouted, his sooty eyes large and maniacal. “They’ll eat your wiring and processors.”

  Cube punched a rat gnawing on its left hand, crushing the head into a pulp. In that time, parts of its knee joint were damaged by a set of sharp teeth. A few more punches and kicks killed some more, but the rodents’ onslaught remained undiminished. One made its way into the chest cavity and pulled out wiring. Cube crushed its head with both hands but the damage had been done.

  “They’ll gnaw on your face!” Alejandro bellowed with delight. “You’ll see.”

  A few rodents found their way into another joint, the right elbow this time, and bit through more circuitry. Cube fell on one knee from the weight of the swarm. Wires sizzled. Fighting off the rats was a hopeless task, even for a behemoth like Cube.

  > ARMOR: Damage incurred. 25% capacity.

  Escape was needed. Cube tried turning on its jetpack but the mechanism wouldn’t allow its ion propulsion system to maintain power for more than a few seconds. Bursts of blue plasma shot out the jetpack, but died almost instantly.

  “Must escape,” Cube said. The left hand’s little finger fell away and additional wires were exposed. A few more minutes and Cub
e would be nothing more than a heaping pile of metal and circuitry.

  “He’s fucking falling apart.” Alejandro laughed and mocked. Other pirates did the same, their eyes wide with pleasure.

  “Stupid humans,” Cube stated. A file displayed within its systems, one that hadn’t ever showed up in the past.

  > EMOTION: Hate.dat

  > EMOTION: Hate.dat

  > EMOTION: Hate.dat

  > EMOTION: Hate.dat

  CHAPTER 16: REO

  The bunker was built into the base of Tycho crater’s mountains. Their central location served well as the getaway location – easy to access from most prefectures. After entering, Reo shut the airlock trap door tight. Lights turned on to display a concrete space, one with severe edges. Shelves stocked with canned food products lined the sprawling, rectangular room. A string of fluorescent lights bathed everything in white.

  “There are beds in the room beyond that door.” Reo pointed to the back. “And a mini-datacenter beyond that.” He took a deep breath and eyed the individuals with him – Bastien, Dr. Bala, Greg and the mother with her four boys. “We’ll be here for a while.”

  “Won’t we be found here?” Greg interjected. “We’d be sitting ducks.”

  “No,” Reo said. “No one knows about this place. Not the military, not the police force – no one. I commissioned to have this built for my family in case an emergency arose. Those laborers that built it were…” His words trailed into silence. Shame reddened his face some. Others nodded and didn’t press the issue. All was understood. No one alive besides those standing within the bunker were aware of it.

  “It will serve us well,” Reo continued. “We have everything to survive for a month. Oxygen and gravity are all provided by auxiliary systems separate from the city’s. Everything is self-contained.”

  The group reviewed the canned goods with long faces. The mother, Leah, resembled a zombie, her eyes blank and distant. She held her youngest in her arms. Her other children were cluttered around her, their eyes wide with trauma. Bastien said to them, “Let’s find some beds for you all.” His eyes were soft. He led them to the back room. The Parisian always seemed to be helping others in one way or another. Reo misjudged him for a low life when he’d first him. How shameful.

  “I’d like to check out the datacenter,” Greg said, the bags under his eyes heavy. “Maybe I can find out where Belle is – whether she’s still alive.”

  “Go ahead,” Reo said. “There’s no password requirement. It’s all ready to go.”

  He was left alone with Dr. Bala. The two sat on metal chairs. An exasperated sigh left the doctor. He removed his specs to rub his eyes. “They didn’t deserve to die.” White locks fell askew over his tan forehead.

  At this point he could have been talking about Hani, Nox and Raul, or the countless Nipponese taken out in the bomb blasts. Either way, tragedy was unfolding across Nippon One. The city was facing its greatest test, and so far, not doing well. It was imploding, killing its own. Who was behind the bomb blasts? Were the ProMachiners still around? They’d utilized such tactics during the lunar civil war, after all. One of them could have defected to the Martians. With a war underway, the identity of those behind the terrorism wouldn’t be found for some time. Perhaps not even until after the war.

  Reo shut his eyes, as if doing so would drive away the pain. He imagined his father standing within the darkness and staring into the void. “You are not so little now, samurai. You must save your people.” Reo’s head hung. How can I save them?

  He turned on the television hanging against the wall. Yukito delivered a speech. He was a dictator, his angry scowl and slim black suit standing stark against a bright Nipponese flag that hung over a partition in the background. Hitler reincarnated. The Emperor growled, “The might of the Nipponese empire thrives under my command.” He slammed the podium. “We have shown the red devils that we are not a people to be underestimated. Our military attack on Port Sydney did much damage. Severe damage!” A blatant lie. “They have seen our true military might. That is why they resort to their devilish tactics. Their spies hide within our midst – gaijins, hell-bent on destroying us inside out just like when they murdered my father and brother.”

  Blood trailed from his nostrils. He didn’t care about the signs of his euphoria addiction. A madman, set loose. “I have commanded our brave police officers to round up all gaijins and promptly bring justice, for they are all in cahoots with the Martians. That is my solution for them. We cannot have evildoers amongst us any longer. Gaijins destroyed the old world. Now they seek to destroy this one, the one where the Nipponese rightfully reside at the top.” He punched the air with a fist. His racism had no bounds. “I will bring down the hammer of justice on these despicable lot. These, these filthy foreigners do nothing but sow discord amongst us and plot with the enemy. Bastien, Alice – the lot of them – I will bring down the hammer of our full might upon the red devils and have them subjugated, for they are not a race fit to rule themselves, let alone the solar system.” He pushed his spectacles up his sweaty nose. The man was soaked in a drug-infused haze. “I will protect our children,” he yelled. “I will protect our senior citizens. I will protect our—”

  Reo turned off the television. He stood and paced the room. “Can’t they see he is unfit to rule?”

  Dr. Bala broke down. His shoulders shook and tears streamed down his cheeks. “We gaijins have worked hard in this city, despite it bringing its boot down on us repeatedly.” Stress was getting the better of him. The usually jolly figure was falling apart. “I couldn’t practice, even with my degree, in any legitimate hospital because of men like Yukito.”

  Reo walked over and kneeled by his side. He held the doctor’s puffy, soft hands in his own. Touch could be the best medicine for anxiety attacks. “You are a good man. My brother will never be your equal.” A struggled played inside him. He’d been part of the racist construct that was Nippon One since birth – he’d propped it up, in fact, as Chief of Police. Gaijins had always been deemed second class citizens. They’d been relegated to the shadows and live as prostitutes, assassins and a host of other unfavorable occupations.

  “How did we get here?” the doctor asked, leaning back in his chair. He blinked away tears. “In just a few short weeks, the world has turned upside down. People are gripped with insanity. The Great Buddha doesn’t seem to care.” His normally smiling face was stretched with sorrow.

  Reo mulled over the words. How did, in fact, they get here in a few weeks? Tensions had been simmering under the surface, sure, but conflict of such magnitude and heavy losses was unfathomable. There had been signs, though. Signs like Marie, or his father’s relationship with her. Or the High Council. Yukito, even.

  “Too many variables.” Reo rubbed his eyes. When was the last time he’d slept?

  Bastien walked back into the room. “I was one of them.” His shoulders drooped.

  Reo and Bala exchanged a glance. “What?” Reo asked, his brow raised.

  “I was a variable.” Bastien took a seat. He sighed. “If… if I hadn’t escaped to New Paris… perhaps these events wouldn’t have ever played out.”

  The man had been a fugitive. Reo almost forgot. “Why… why did you kill your colleagues?” He’d never thought to ask Bastien his side of the story.

  Bastien’s stare anchored on the concrete floor. He opened his mouth but nothing came out except a sigh. His eyes were damp from tears. Consoling a family who’d just lost the man of the house had taken a toll. The children’s cries came from the other room. They wouldn’t recover for some time. Did a brighter future lay ahead for them? Perhaps not.

  “Wait, what colleagues?” Dr. Bala interjected. “You killed your colleagues? In the Martian army?”

  “I did.” Bastien rubbed his eyes. He looked as if he’d been running for a very long time. Exhaustion had aged him. Despite being twenty-eight, he appeared at least ten years older. “It’s a long story. There was an order to purge a thousand Martians by
the High Council to save resources.” He leaned forward. “I refused to do it. I didn’t want to cross that line.” He paused. His face was red. All eyes remained on him. “A good man once told me just because we are surrounded by monsters doesn’t mean we have to become monsters ourselves.” He crossed his arms. “Crone was a monster. He ordered my arrest. He was an extension of the High Council, like Alice is now. I killed my colleagues in self-defense because they were going to arrest me. And execute me eventually.”

  “And you escaped to New Paris, and met Marie?” Dr. Bala asked.

  “Yes. And that…” Bastien’s shoulders drooped. “Helped lead to our current state of affairs. In its own convoluted way.” He dried his eyes with the back of his hands.

  Strong men cried. And rebelled. This hadn’t been the way of Reo’s family. Perhaps it should have been. Emotions were hidden. Orders were followed blindly. Maybe that’s why half of them were gone. Then again, Bastien’s methods hadn’t led to a favorable outcome, either. The High Council remained in place. The purges continued.

  Reo leaned against the wall. There was nothing he could say to ease Bastien’s pain. Words didn’t lend well to civilizational collapse, after all. No guidelines to follow. Nothing. He could only offer silence.

  Greg raced in. “I’ve found Belle!” Heads turned.

  Bastien’s eyes were wide. “What? Where?”

  “I executed a crawl command throughout the clouds within Nippon One, and there were no pings back. But then, I expanded the crawler to foreign systems—”

  “Plain English, please,” Bastien said.

  Greg sighed. “Right. I did a search and found Belle’s data signatures. They aren’t within any Nipponese systems. She’s up at Port Sydney.”

  “Port Sydney? How could this happen?” Bastien asked.

  “I’m guessing when they attacked her she found a way for her data to transfer out through the amplified wireless connections and it led to Port Sydney. That’s the only thing I can think of.” Greg’s hands were on his waist, and his eyes searched the room as if for answers. “She’s in big trouble. Confined to the same environment as her attackers. She’s on their turf.”