The Spire

by Peter F Smith

  The door slid open and he walked into the medical level. Normally bristling with staff and patients, its sterile halls were mostly quiet. He accessed the network for the floor and identified which room his team had been taken to. He walked to it passing a nurse’s station and medical diagnostic room. The two medical technicians from the hangar were the only people there. He spoke to them briefly and received a local anesthetic to help him manage the pain in his ribs. The absence of so many staff left him somewhat unnerved, though it made sense in the end. Multi National Robotics was now the focus of an international controversy based on the sudden drop in human-based labor due to its robotics and artificial intelligence. Each MNR facility around the globe was a target for terrorism and given what had just happened today, he had no doubt that someone might try something here. Therefore, it made sense to keep the building on a skeleton staff restricting access to only the most needed employees.

  He left the two technicians and approached the suite his team was located in. The door slide open and Aaron entered to find his people. Tommy and Walter laying up on beds that clearly had been rolled next to one another, and Natalia seated next to Walter. A medical drone was nearby placing medical supplies and tools back into their appropriate compartments.

  Tommy saw him first and threw his arms wide as if he wanted a hug. “Commander!”

  Miller smirked, “I’m not hugging you.”

  “Ya sure, I give amazing hugs!”

  Natalia glowered at Tom. “No, you give unwelcome physical contact, which is going to result in all of us having to attend another corporate sexual harassment seminar."

  Miller looked at Natalia. “Going to assume he’s on the good stuff right now?”

  She smirked, “You wish. “She motioned to the drone. “Doc, ran him through the scanner and decided there was no permanent damage to his heart. He just needed an external pacemaker on his chest to monitor and adjust for the next forty eight hours, so that is one hundred percent our Tommy over there."

  Miller looked back at his old friend, whose arms went wide a second time as a large grin stretched over his face nearly from ear to ear and his eyebrows moved up and down rapidly. “He doesn’t even need to be on the bed… and definitely doesn’t need to be wearing that medical gown.” Natalia noted.

  Tommy’s face went serious. “Never miss a chance to free bird it,” he responded.

  Miller looked up at the ceiling and took an exaggerated breath, “First, stop calling me Commander.”

  “Yes sir.”

  He glared at Tommy,“Second, if you want hugs, then you’re buying when we can finally make it to the bar.”

  “A reasonable compromise.”

  “Third, be as… unique as you want. All three of you deserve to relax however you damn well feel. I’m always proud of you, but today you proved yet again why I should always be.”

  Walter smiled lazily at Miller, his eyes half lidded. “I take it you’re on the good stuff.”

  He nodded as Natalia gently patted his forearm. “Yup, doc says my leg and hip won’t be back together for another week and that I’ll need light duty for a week after that.”

  “So that leaves us hold up here for two weeks then,” Tommy stated, matter-of-factly.

  “Which gives us time to think about what I’m going to ask you next.” Miller stated.

  Before he could continue, Natalia interrupted, “We already talked about it.”

  “Talked about what? You don’t even know what I’m going to ask.”

  Tom smirked, “You’re going to ask if we want to re-up with the Department of Defense.”

  “And we all agree. Once Walter is on his feet, we’re going to request an extended leave of absence,” Natalia said.

  “Well shit, that took the wind out of my sails,” he laughed.

  “We know that you’re sweet on the kid, so we didn’t want to put you on the spot, but are you thinking of joining us?” Nat asked, her eyes not hiding the fact that she wanted him to say yes.

  He smiled, one way or the other over the last several decades they had managed to stay together as a unit and as a small family. In the military, it was incredibly rare to serve with the same people for more than a few years, and he had gone through considerable effort to keep them together over time. “Of course I’m coming with you. I wouldn’t have it any other way. I do want to give Patterson sufficient notice. I have a meeting with him shortly, and I’ll let him know our decision then."

  “Gotta keep the band together,” Tommy stated happily.

  “Nat, do you mind if I go check in with building security? Patterson wanted me to make sure they were properly deployed in case anything happens here.”

  She nodded with a smile and looked at Tommy incredulously. “I’ll do my best to keep them under control.”

  “If anyone can, it’s you,” Miller said as he smiled and walked out of the room heading for the main security office two floors down. He had already pulled up the location of Security Chief Allan and knew he was on the first floor, but he didn’t have direct access to all building security information. To better coordinate with Allan, he wanted to be able to access those materials from the terminals in the main office.

  He exited the vista presented by the elevator and walked down the hall to the main security office, appreciating the splashes of color from the verdant green potted plants and flowers that lined the hallway. The sweet smell that they added to the air made it just that much more enjoyable to work here. That had always been one of his great complaints about his time in the military, not enough effort was paid toward the mental and emotional well-being of the soldiers prior to the traumatic events that often pushed them over the edge when they returned home to civilian life. The stark and utilitarian facilities he had called home for decades had done little to alleviate stress; their function solely focused on the maximum amount of short term efficiency possible. While most bases did offer gyms and movie theaters, those options were often an afterthought or optional.

  People who were depressed rarely found it easy to reach out to the tools that were available to them. Patterson, however, made sure to create an environment that cared for the mental and emotional health of his employees while at the same time incorporating his love of nature. It was intrinsic to the design and helped employees be productive even though they didn’t realize that was an intended effect. The fact that such design elements were utilized here, in the main security level, a place that was meant to emanate strength and where nature may have been seen as too warm and inviting, was a testament to Jacob's commitment to the idea.

  Miller stepped into the department having gone through a similar security screening to the one he experienced prior to entering the Patterson’s personal suite. He walked past a series of offices, none of them his own. He wished that he had one here. The fact that he technically wasn’t a part of building security, but instead was Mr. Patterson’s personal staff, was why he and his team hadn’t been issued a space here. It made preparing for security operations a bit more irksome as this was where the main armory was located and while his office was only a short elevator ride away, he didn’t like the idea that he and his team weren’t within easy and quick access of their equipment. He decided that this event might be enough to convince Patterson to authorize some redesign of the available work spaces or maybe even add a secondary armory at his office.

  He walked into the main command area for the security room taking in the variety of monitors displaying imagery from around the Spire as well as data on back-up generators and pumps. Several of the monitors showed scenes from major cities around the world. One was reserved for the events still unfolding in Washington D.C., and another was focused on unrest happening here in New York City.

  Miller stopped next to the lone technician monitoring the screens and working on a piece of a security code, and asked, “How’s it going outside Rod?”

  Rodney looked up at the use of his nickname. “We’ve been getting a pretty big crowd outside
of the entrance. We sealed off the road ways up to the building, so most of them are walking in to join the protest.”

  “Any weapons?”

  Rodney shook his head. “AI hasn’t detected anything, except for a lot of pissed off people.”

  “Where’s the NYPD?” Miller asked.

  He shook his head, “They bugged out hours ago. Not sure where to. Their communications are a mess.”

  Miller stared at the screen filled with protestors at the base of the Spire. “Keep a really close watch on those people. I find it hard to believe that they’d still be out protesting with everything going around the globe. Anything new on what’s happening with the rest of the country?”

  “It’s all going to hell. Looks like a mix of random insurgent groups and some pretty hard core paramilitaries managed to breach the White House before the Secret Service and Marines were able to secure the city. No one knows for sure what happened to the President.”

  Miller looked at the screen of the White House, smoke still rising from the last remnants of a fire that had been recently extinguished.

  “Capitol Hill is gone. Something like ten thousand protestors charged it when the fighting started,” Rod noted as he tapped at something in his virtual field of sight and the monitor switched to a live streamed video of well-dressed corpses being removed from nearby lamp posts. “One of those guys is our CEO.”

  “Jesus, how the hell did they manage to get thousands of fighters into that protest group?” asked Miller.

  “News doesn’t think they did. General consensus among all the networks is that most of them were just average people pissed off by all the bull crap that had been going on there for decades. Pissed off that they haven’t come up with solutions for how to help the common man support their family with the job crisis that automation is causing."

  “So they just snapped?” queried Miller in disbelief.

  “I’d say for a lot of these people it was a long time coming. Still, ten thousand, is a small percentage of the number of people that were out there on the mall. There was something like two hundred thousand when it all went down,” he paused. “You were there weren’t you?”

  “In the Air and Space Museum, yeah… never should have agreed to let them go.”

  Rod grinned, “No one can say no to Mrs. Patterson when she gets her mind set on something.”

  Miller laughed slightly, “Ain’t that the truth.” He looked over at the screens that showed the main lobby, with its tall arched ceilings, sitting areas spread throughout, and sculptures from local artists carefully placed in each of the pods to help those that were working or conversing have something to contemplate or admire. Security guards were milling around making a show of their presence to anyone outside who might be looking through the first floor windows. Chief Allan wanted to dissuade people from attacking in the first place by presenting a show of force, which would work against petty criminals but not against dedicated and professional attackers.

  “Speaking of stubborn people, I need to talk to Allan.”

  Rod chuckled, “Good luck, he’s been in a mood ever since Patterson sent him down there. I’ll patch you through.”

  Miller felt a small bit of annoyance bite at his needing to go through this process. The Chief was a stickler for protocol, and if you weren’t a member of his direct team or leadership, he didn’t want you to be able to access his communication system. Miller suspected that part of the reason for that choice in procedure had to been to establish some form of dominance over him making him dance to the Security Chief’s tune. From the moment they had met, Miller got the impression that the security chief was unsettled by his military experience. So as the virtual display began to count upward, waiting for the security chief to accept the connection, Miller took a deep breath. He’d dealt with chest thumpers for decades, and he knew how to handle the frustration they caused him. At least the man ran a well-trained and professional crew that fact helped to dull some of the irritation.

  Allan’s simulated face popped up in his view, “What do you want Miller?”

  “Mr. Patterson asked me to consult with you on Spire security, Sunshine.”

  Rod snorted and threw himself back into his work. Allan frowned, either overhearing the lapse in his subordinate’s respect or at Miller’s comment. “I don’t need both of you micromanaging me. I know how to prevent people from accessing my building. You aren’t the only one with military experience."

  “Embassy security is some serious shit, I agree,” responded Miller.

  “In Jerusalem,” Allan added, clearly feeling that it was important to distinguish between the various diplomatic outposts that the former Marine had helped to protect. The U. S. Embassy in Jerusalem had been one of the more dangerous assignments, so Miller was slightly more impressed than if he had spent time in Norway.

  “Then you should appreciate the role that someone with Special Operations experience brings to facility security. We worked a lot with guys in your position.”

  Allan shook his head, “I’ve got enough help thanks and I need to get back to my job.”

  “Wait, at least split your staff so you have a reserve force available."

  “No shit Sherlock, tell that to Patterson. He’s the one who told me to put everyone on the main level. He’s freaking out about a mass rush like the one that occurred at the Capitol.”

  Miller furrowed his brow. Patterson had told him that Allan had wanted the entire force down there. The security Chief’s face also contorted, “I told you that I didn’t want any support from you or your team Miller.”

  He was snapped out of the concern he was focused on. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “The elevators are all active,” indicated Allan. Miller watched as his eyes narrowed and he looked off into the distance. “They’re coming from the sub levels.”

  “Which ones?”

  “All of them,” Allan said terminating the connection.

  “What the hell?” Rod said, perplexed.

  “What?”

  “All the exterior windows on the lower levels just switched to opaque,” Rod responded.

  Miller slapped Rod on the shoulder and motioned to the monitors, “Main floor now!”

  The young man’s hands flew through the air manipulating his virtual controls. The screens all changed to the various camera feeds from the lobby. Both men watched as Allan approached the bank of elevators that were located exactly at the center of the cavernous space. He advanced on them by himself. There were enough lifts there to allow for the rapid movement of the tens of thousands of people who worked in the Spire on a day to day basis. The hair on the back of Miller’s neck began to prickle and he leaned in toward the screens. Something was wrong.

  The doors began to open and Allan was already waving his arm to dismiss the new comers when dozens of drones burst into the lobby. Miller watched, stunned as one of the machines gripped the man’s head with lightning speed and turned it almost a hundred and eighty degrees with a snap. The drones crossed the space between themselves and the rest of the security staff, leaping over furniture and falling upon the men and women with the exact same result that Allan had experienced. Some members of security managed to draw their weapons putting several of the drone units down before the wave of machines crashed upon them.

  Miller realized he had stopped breathing. He had seen men die, close friends and even those he considered to be family. It wasn’t the violence that had stunned him, but the sudden realization of betrayal. There was only one explanation for those drones he had just seen, a new model, far stronger than any he had ever encountered before. They had risen from the manufacturing areas in the sub floors and were clearly produced in advance. Jacob Patterson, the man he respected, had just murdered his entire security staff, and Miller understood instantly that they weren’t going to be the last ones.

  He looked at Rod, who had gone completely white, his hands were shaking violently. “Rodney?”

  He staye
d frozen, and Miller said, “Rodney look at me.”

  The younger man turned, tears beginning to stream from his eyes and down his cheeks, as he asked, “Why did they do that… why did they kill them?”

  Miller knelt in front of the man asking, “Do you want to join them?”

  Panic overcame his shock, “What do you mean?”

  “Those bots aren’t going to stop down there. We need to move and we need to do it now,” Miller stated as his eyes burned into Rodneys’ and the realization flashed into view.

  “Holy shit! They’re coming for us next. What do we do?”

  Miller shot to his feet and said, “Unlock the armory and join me.”

  ___

  The two of them bounded out of the security department laden down with duffle bags. Miller had a rifle hanging from his shoulder and body armor covering his torso. Rod had none of these, just the duffle slung over his shoulder. His face still flushed from the exertion. Miller turned the corner and Rodney stopped.

  “Where are you going? The elevators are this way.”

  Miller kept moving in the opposite direction and responded, “Yes, but the stairs are this way.”

  “Holy shit the stairs, I have asthma.”

  “If you take the elevator, you won’t have to worry about that for long. Now catch the hell up!” Miller chided as he reached the door to stairwell and depressed the manual door bar. Miller thanked god for building codes that required that emergency routes had to be independent of digital systems and not require power. He held open the door for Rodney who came crashing through, sweat literally springing from his forehead and landing on Miller’s arm. He let Rodney go up the stairs first huffing the entire way.

  “How many flights?” Rod panted.

  “Just two.”

  Rodney’s shoulders slumped as he slogged up the first set of stairs. Miller shot his hand out and stopped the overweight technician. “What?” Rod asked, already out of breath.