The Spire

by Peter F Smith

  “Stop talking,” Miller ordered. Both men stood on the stairs for a moment.

  Rod’s shoulders began to rise, like a turtle trying to hide its head in its shell. “What the fuck is that pounding?”

  Miller looked over the safety rail and down the empty void of the stairwell, his contacts zooming his vision down about twenty flights. He saw flashes of metallic arms as what had to be hundreds of drones stormed upwards. He grabbed Rodney by the shoulder and spun him around. “What the hell!” Rod exclaimed.

  He ignored Rod’s exclamation and unzipped the duffle bag the man was carrying removing a cylindrical device from it. Miller snapped off the cap on one end and depressed the button until a mechanical action forced his finger back up. He held it over the abyss of the stairwell and dropped it directly down the center. He spun the technician forward and pushed him up the stairs. “Move your ass!” he shouted.

  Five steps later, they both fell forward, losing their footing for a moment when the stairs shook beneath them and a blast of hot air rushed passed. Miller ignored the sweat that sprung to the surface of his skin and slipped his hand underneath Rodney’s belt and hauled him to his feet. “That bought us seconds, let’s not waste them.”

  They burst through the emergency door into the medical level. Running past the nurses’ station, Miller noted that both of the technicians were missing. He’d keep an eye out for them as they came back through. He zeroed in on the door to the suite his team was located, pushing through the door, blasting past the two missing technicians. He stopped in his tracks wishing for a moment that he hadn’t come in at all. Natalia raised her hands above her head swinging the robotic arm she held down like a club into the head of the medical drone, again and again as she screamed in rage. Tommy sat in the chair next to Walter’s still body with his fingers laced behind his head as he shook uncontrollably. Miller dropped the duffle he was carrying on the ground, not knowing which of his team to go to first. He stepped in front of Natalia, kneeling in front of her. Tears streamed down her face, her skin and eyes red as she weakly struck at the plastic and alloys that had once been the medical drone.

  Miller leaned in, gently placing his hand on her forearm. “Nat…” She jerked her arm away from him and struck the debris one last time. “Natalia, what happened?” he softly asked.

  She stopped moving, looking up at him. Her mouth opened but no words came out; instead, she dissolved into tears, her body collapsing inward as she rolled off the remains. Her knees went to her chest as she wrapped her arms around her legs and buried her face. Miller knelt, speechless. They had worked together for decades and had experienced some of the most horrific events in human history. Natalia had always been cool and controlled. Even when he himself was a mess, her composure never melted.

  “Walt’s dead,” Tommy announced.

  Miller looked up to see Tommy staring at him from over Walter’s body. He stood and walked over to the still form of his friend. “How?” was all he could manage through gritted teeth.

  “Not sure, I was taking a piss when it happened.”

  “The drone,” Natalia started, but couldn’t continue. She took a moment, drawing in a deep breath and standing slowly. “Pushed a massive dose of morphine into his line. I didn’t realize anything was wrong until it tried to inject me from behind."

  “What the hell is going on here? Did someone hack the drone?” Tommy asked, his eyes red as well. They hadn’t lost a member of their team… their family in over a decade. Miller understood why they were all distraught; he felt it too.

  Miller looked him directly in the eye and said, “Patterson turned on us… killed the security staff on the main floor.”

  “What the fuck?” one of the medical technicians burst out.

  Several seconds passed as the information sank in with everyone. Tommy leaned his head forward slightly, the fingers of one hand holding his eye lids open so he could pinch and remove his contacts with his other. He placed them both in the palm of his hand and then motioned to everyone else. Quickly they all did the same, removing their contact lenses and sacrificing their virtual vision and ability to seamlessly access the variety of digital resources around them.

  “He can still monitor everything we do or say using the internal security devices,” Rodney pointed out.

  Miller nodded pointing to the duffels that he and Rodney had brought into the room. Both Natalia and Tommy wasted no time in getting gear from the bags. “Tom is right. When we were deployed to the Fujian province of China to advise the Taiwanese expeditionary forces, Chinese Electronic Warfare units managed to hack into the operating systems of the Taiwanese soldiers. They cut all their visuals to zero at key points in battles and even screwed with the IFF coding to make it so that the Taiwanese appeared as enemies when they looked at one another… watched them kill quite a few of their own people that way… and Jacob Patterson is easily the smartest guy on the planet, so I don’t want him having direct access to my eye balls.”

  Miller motioned everyone to the bags as he traded his rifle for a shot gun and began loading slugs into the magazine. Rod grabbed the rifle he had swapped out and began adjusting the sights and stock. He might have been an out of shape asthmatic, but he had paid attention when he was receiving firearms training, a credit to Security Chief Allan’s high expectations for his staff.

  The second medical technician looked into a duffle and began to panic. “Are those explosives?” he asked, seeing the blocks of high explosive materials located inside.

  Rodney raised his eyebrows in shock and asked, “Was that the duffle I was carrying?”

  Miller ignored their concern and stated, “Rod, if you can’t hack the door lock to Patterson’s office, I’m going to have to blast our way in. I only hope I brought enough.”

  “You think I’m going to be able to hack his lock?” asked Rod in shock.

  Before Miller could answer, the first technician shook his head, his long dark hair falling into his eyes and forcing him to clear it. “Why the hell do you want to go to his office? Why not make a run for the hangar bay? Let’s steal a fucking jet and get the hell out of here!”

  Rodney shook his head. “The odds of me being able to break either security protocol is pretty piss poor but his idea,” he said, motioning to Miller, “is a lot safer than yours. If I can breach the encryption, it’ll be just a few seconds before Patterson can override my control. That’s all I need to get a door open and let these bad asses do their thing. If we go with your idea, he takes control back from me and nose dives the plane."

  Natalia had finished her preparation at the duffle bag, placing the sling of her weapon over her shoulder. She stepped over to Walter, kissed him gently on the lips, and then pulled the sheet over his face. She pulled the charge handle back on her Squad Automatic Weapon and advanced on the door. “You can come with us or stay here. Personally, I don’t give a shit either way,” she said to the technicians.

  They looked at each other, sharing some type of unspoken communication, and the one whose head was shaved reached into the duffle and pulled out a pistol. The one with black hair shook his head and backed away heading into the restroom where they could all hear the lock snap closed. Miller quickly showed their new recruit how to safely operate his weapon and explained the need to make sure he always had clear line of sight, to keep calm, and that if he shot anyone on the team, Miller would kill him immediately after.

  “Everyone listen up. Rodney is our tech expert, and he and his personal terminal are the priority. We are all expendable, so no matter what he has to get to the door lock and get us access. We protect him at all cost.”

  “Well, that makes me feel a little better,” Rodney laughed sheepishly.

  Natalia, without turning from the door addressed Rodney, “Shouldn’t, if we know you matter, then so does Patterson, means all the bots are going to be going for you.”

  Rodney began to breathe rapidly, and Tommy stepped up beside him. “Alright everyone, let’s go get my gift off
that asshole’s desk.”

  Rod looked at Tommy in confusion, “What?”

  “I gave that douche bag a ‘World’s Greatest Boss’ coffee mug for Christmas. He clearly isn’t, so I’m taking it back."

  Miller looked at Natalia. Tommy’s way of dealing with stress was to joke, the worse the situation the less appropriate the timing of his humor. If his attempt at managing his own anxiety had bothered her, she didn’t let on. He stacked up along the wall next to the door. He looked her in the eyes. They were cold and emotionless. “Ready?” he asked.

  She gave a single slow nod. He gripped the handle and flung the door open. It hadn’t even completed its arc when she pulled the trigger.

  Natalia

  Blood ran down her side soaking her blouse past her waist, and she could feel it starting to pool in her shoe. The piece of shrapnel from the bot she had fragged just before it got within her rifle’s arc was still lodged in her shoulder continuing to tear at her muscle tissue and skin as she and the rest of the team bounded across the cavernous space. Miller stopped in front of her spinning around and dropping to a knee. His shot gun aimed beyond her, and she could feel the concussion of his heavy caliber slugs ripping past. The sound of metal and plastic being blasted apart assaulted her ears. In front of her, the technician was running as hard as he could, his breathing coming in shallow gasps, and she wasn’t entirely sure he wouldn’t die from natural causes.

  They both passed Tommy, who had stopped and performed the same maneuver that Miller had. Rodney slammed into the wall next to the stairwell that they hoped would allow them access to the upper floors. Natalia spun and dropped to her knee. She took in the line of drones that were quickly covering the distance with her small group of survivors. Miller ran past her pushing through the emergency door and onto the stairs. Natalia set the fire selector to full automatic. Tommy was nearly out of her firing arc when she began to empty her two hundred round magazine. Tom blew by and she completed her barrage.

  What had once been nearly forty drones that were about to overrun them was now a line of damaged and smoking ruin. Some of the units continued to pull themselves toward her. Their hands, attached to damaged arms, gripped frantically at the metal floor as ruined legs pushed with single minded intent, but despite the effort, their pace was no longer an issue. Though exiting the stairwell at the opposite end of the hangar was a never ending stream of robots, far more than she had ammunition or spare barrels to handle. She watched as they jumped over the corpse of the medical technician and the remaining hangar staff who hadn’t listened to their warnings as they sprinted across the space.

  She stood and ran into the stairwell with Tommy pulling up the rear. They ran at full speed up the steps and came to a stop in front of Miller and Rod. Rodney was doubled over, gasping for breath.

  “How… many…?” he managed.

  “Fifteen more flights. We have to move,” Miller said grabbing his arm and wrapping it over his shoulder.

  “You aren’t going to make it,” she said to Miller as she and Tommy matched their speed.

  Miller nodded but kept pushing forward. They reached the next floor landing, and she dropped her hand on his free shoulder pulling at the strap with the duffle filled with explosives. “What the hell?” he barked at her.

  “You aren’t going to make it to Patterson if something doesn’t change.”

  Miller’s eyes hardened, “Not like this Nat.”

  “I’m not asking you sir, and you know that you need more time,” she reasoned as she pulled the bag free. He let go of Rodney so that he could grab her arm as she lifted the strap onto her shoulder.

  “Natalia, we can make it.”

  She looked at Rod, collapsed in the corner, his breath coming in shallow gasps now. “If you and Tommy both carry him, you might make it, but I have to buy you time.”

  Miller shook his head violently, moisture began to appear in his eyes, and he blinked it away quickly. “I’m not… I can’t lose anyone else Nat. Please don’t do this."

  “Ta hell with that! You’re better in CQB than I am. I’ll buy time,” Tommy said reaching for the bag.

  She stepped back quickly as Miller stepped forward to keep his hand on her arm. “I can’t lift him as efficiently as you two can. This is the only option Commander. You know it’s the right call, so let me do it," she reasoned and began to slowly step toward the door. Miller didn’t let go, but his grip relaxed slightly.

  “Please Aaron, I need to do this,” she whispered as his hand slide down to her forearm.

  “Don’t,” he managed, his voice cracking some.

  Tommy looked frantically between her and Miller, clearly not wanting to accept what was about to happen. She reached the door and Miller’s grip on her hand released. “You all need to leave. I have to use these,” she said and shrugged her shoulder that bore the weight of explosives.

  Miller was frozen, his jaw muscle flexing erratically. Tommy sighed and stepped toward her. For an instant, she was afraid he was going to grab her but instead he leaned in and pecked her on the cheek and with the warmest smile she had ever seen he left her, grabbing Rodney and helping him to begin the ascent. Miller stared ahead, almost through her. “I’m sorry I didn’t see this coming. I’m sorry I didn’t keep Wal…,” he choked up.

  She stepped forward, her rifle dropping into it’s strap around her shoulder and embraced him. His body was tense, but it immediately melted. “I can’t lose you too,” he whispered.

  After a second, she pulled away slightly, placing both of her hands on either side of his face, his stubble scratching at her exposed finger tips. “I would have been happy to have lived forever with you three,” she responded.

  She stepped away, “Now get the hell out of here… sir.”

  He took a deep calming breath, his shoulders shuddering as he did. He nodded and turned bounding up the steps. She quickly wiped at her eyes and then immediately dropped the duffle. She took a single stick of explosive and inserted it snuggly into one of her vest pouches, the rest of the explosives she paired to a trip wire trigger system. When she still had them, her contact lenses had given her the ability to detect infrared light that smashed against a surface. She had no reason to believe that the optics on the drones would be less sensitive, so an electronic trigger was out of the question. She briskly climbed the stairs to the next landing and then made her way back down leaving the explosives on each step. She was setting the tripwire when the door below burst open, and the feet of the drones drummed against the steps just a few flights below. Vibrations were already working their way into the soles of her shoes.

  She threw the door nearest to her open and bolted into the office hallway. She was gambling that the reinforced walls that Patterson had included in the design of the stairwell when he was building this first Spire would contain the blast. After all, the exterior parts of the stairwells were rated to take a hit from a passenger jet. They would hopefully be able to handle demolition charges and contain the blast. If they didn’t, then this was going to be a very short endeavor on her part. She turned into the first office she could find, flipping its table over and bracing behind it as the sound of the footfalls shifted into a roar. Her mouth opened out of practice, knowing what came next, and then there was no sound.

  The floor beneath her heaved upward and felt as if it were rolling away. She grabbed onto the desk to keep it from being flung from her and screamed to equalize the pressure in her body with the outside world. The lights in the office blinked out and something heavy slammed into the opposite side of the desk punching through the material mere inches from her head. She eyed the jagged metal item, unsure what it was, but certain that it didn’t come from this office space. When the world stopped shaking, she stood up slowly, bits and pieces of debris tumbling off her. The entire drop down ceiling had collapsed, and she could only see because of the fires that were alive before her. The wall to the office she had entered was a tattered wreck allowing her a clear line of sight to the st
airwell door. It and its wall were remarkably still in one piece, but she could see places where the brick had buckled outward. She suspected that Patterson had reinforced the stairwells with steel plating. The man had clearly been a product of the post 9/11 world.

  A flare of pain erupted from her chest, and she looked down to see her previous wound had increased in size and blood flow. She removed a coagulant pack from her emergency kit and injected it into the wound. At this size and flow it wouldn’t be stopped by the treatment, but it would keep her alive long enough to do what she need to. She activated the last brick of explosive, giving it a recorded voice command to detonate on. She stepped toward the doorway of the stairwell. The heat from the explosion and the resulting fires made her stick her gloved hand in front of her face as she achieved a short glance into the space. A significant span of stairs was now missing from the upper levels. She doubted that the drones would be able to use this particular stairwell. Bits and pieces of mechanical arms and legs were strewn across what was left of her landing and, in some cases, were embedded in the walls. The crackle of the flames began to be overwhelmed by the sound of moving machines below.

  She quickly moved back to the desk she had used as shelter, dragging it into the hallway. She dropped to a knee and engaged the bi-pod attached underneath the barrel of her squad automatic weapon. She placed it on the desk top and aimed down the sights at the stairwell door. Behind her, at the opposite end of the hallway, was another stairwell that would allow the drones to make it up to the higher levels. She had placed herself directly in their path hoping to destroy enough of them and delay them sufficiently to give the guys enough time to put an end to this. She braved the pain in her shoulder as she pulled out the crucifix that hung around her neck and gave it a slight kiss letting it drop over her shirt.

  The first drone came around the door frame in the blink of an eye. The flames reflecting off its grey and white casing. While it was fast, it wasn’t as fast as the bullets leaving the muzzle of her rifle. Its shoulder jerked backwards in a spray of plastic. The bullets pummeled it forcing it to collapse to the ground. Directly behind it a line of drones were already taking its place. One was in mid jump over the last when she managed to destroy it, sending it to the ground in a heap. She transitioned her aim down and placed fire into the next. The doorway forced the drones to funnel in, at the most coming in two at a time, but a quick shift of her sights let her put them down. The barrel began to glow red adding its own light to flickering flames. The smoke in the room thickened as the destroyed robots added to the pollution in the air. Her eyes were watering, and the back of her throat burned with each breath. As the rifle bucked against her body, she felt her shoulder tear further and the ability to focus was beginning to wain as her blood loss increased.