Epoch (The Templar Future Book 1)

Home > Other > Epoch (The Templar Future Book 1) > Page 19
Epoch (The Templar Future Book 1) Page 19

by Lowry, Chris


  “When will we arrive?”

  “Tonight, we should meet the harbormaster,” Reanna said. “I’ll hold us offshore and we’ll send in a skiff.”

  “Boats,” he mused. “Why don’t you pirates use hovercars?”

  “We can pick a car up on radar,” Pip answered him. “In boats, then can melt in with the interference.”

  “Fuel,” Reanna explained. “She’s right about radar, but Father decided it was less costly to use boats.”

  “Can’t you jam their radar?”

  “we do,” she looked over her shoulder at Pip, half expecting her to reveal the secret to the Troops.

  “It’s okay,” Pip nodded. “I saw it in the village.”

  “Without a Computer, we have a low key jammer that works with magnetic fields and the water. Boats are easy to hide. We can make them look like a pod of whales. Cars, though, you need a Computer to split the radio waves, sort of fly between them. We don’t have the equipment.”

  “We’ll get it,” he assured her.

  “We’ll get it. You’re funny, brave man. You think it’s that easy? You just make up your mind and it appears. We’ve tried for years to bring a jammer or a processor or any kind of equipment you can name on-line. We can’t use Computers. The Main Terminal logs on to our location, the Troops come down on us. That’s how we stay away from them, we don’t use computers.”

  “No one was using a Computer and they found us last time,” Pip said.

  “They’ll pay for that,” Reanna growled.

  “did anyone activate a terminal?” the Templar asked. “Did you turn yours on at the car?”

  “No, we never reached it the first time. They just knew we were there.”

  “Then we have to find out how they know. What does the Main Terminal have access to?”

  “It was your car,” said Reanna. “They probably saw it shot down and came looking for Corsairs.”

  “That’s too simple,” said Pip.

  “Eleven told me that the simplest solutions are always the best.”

  “Don’t you think he meant when you were trying to solve a problem?”

  “And this isn’t a problem? We have to know how they found us, so they won’t find us again.”

  “I agree,” Reanna stood up. “but I have to check on my ship. You have a good plan when I get back.”

  “Send in Bruce,” the Templar ordered.

  She saluted smartly, and left.

  “Can we trust her?” Pip asked.

  He didn’t answer. Bruce stepped through the door and hid against the far wall.

  “You wanted to see me?”

  “Bruce, what have you done for my team since I brought you here?”

  He adjusted his hair, straightened his tunic.

  “I didn’t want to come,” he offered weakly.

  “You’re about to earn your keep,” the Templar fluffed his small pillow. “Tell me everything you know about the Computer.”

  “Everything?”

  The Templar caressed the but of his pistol shoved in his waistband.

  “Don’t leave out a word.”

  “This isn’t what I expected at all,” Darwin said to Robe.

  They were confined to a small cell, somewhere in the bowels of HQ. While being brought down, Robe tried to count floors, and how many footsteps it took from the lift to the cell door, but the guards were watching him and kept him distracted.

  “It is jail.”

  Darwin laughed, an odd sound, out of place in the dimly lit bare room.

  “Not what I meant. This, this I expected. I was talking about the Templar. He’s not what I expected.”

  Robe lay his hands on his arms, pulling his knees to his chest.

  “We knew that.”

  “Who?”

  “Me and Pip. We knew you thought he was something else. Everytime you opened your mouth to talk to him about his past, it showed. You built him up to be an ideal. And the truth is, he’s just a man.”

  “How can you say that? His Order was the model of justice, protection, service. Everything in history points to that. The Templar’s came about based on an ancient religious faction that protected pilgrims. The second go round was founded on the same principle. How an this one man stray so far from that ideal? All the books say the men were chosen for the devotion and zeal, their courage and valor.”

  “You can’t say the Templar doesn’t have courage. he has ice in his veins.”

  “I meant in protecting and serving.” Darwin explained. He moved closer to Robe. They sat back to back in the middle of the cell floor under the single low light source. “He was supposed to rescue us from this society, you know. I brought him here because I didn’t like what we’ve become, as a people. I thought he would change things. But he’s just a tyrant.”

  “Your statue have clay feet? You can’t blame him for something that’s your own fault. He didn’t ask for you to build up an image of him. He doesn’t ask for it now, he just is. Sure, he’s a bully and a dictator, but that’s how he survives. If you ask me, the Troops are no different.”

  He leaned against Darwin.

  “Think about it. Conrad set us up to clean the streets of the Mob, to make the city safe for everyone. But a long time ago, we lost that fight. Now we just protect those who can afford it, calling ourselves a public service, but limiting our public. We’re glorified bodyguards, available to the highest bidder. We didn’t clean the streets. The Mob took over, claiming everyone from the middle class down. If you didn’t live in a protected building, with the money to pay for us and fortifications, they got you fast. We were started with the right idea, but the application of our evolution has changed.” he sighed. “Maybe that’s what happened to your Order.”

  “Amazing,” Darwin said.

  Robe shrugged his shoulders.

  “I’ve had some time to think about it.”

  “You’re absolutely right. I made the Templar in my mind and was angry when the real thing didn’t follow my ideal. I wish I would have had you in one of my classes when I taught. Every so often, we learned men get caught up in our intelligence. It takes someone with a clearer view to show us the way.”

  “Thanks. I think we can’t blame the Templar for our failings. That’s why I helped him. He didn’t ask to be brought here, but he was. He had to adapt, and he was remarkable at it. As a soldier and leader, he’s magnificent. As a man, he may have a lot to learn. I just hope I can help him.”

  “Do you think he’ll come for us?” Darwin asked.

  Robe jumped up and looked around the cell quickly.

  “How could we be so stupid?”

  He slapped his head with his hand.

  The door slid open, revealing Harry standing there, an evil grin on his face.

  “So he’s not dead? I think the Commander want’s to know about this right quick.”

  Robe threw himself at the door, but it hissed shut in front of him. He could hear faint laughter from the other side. He pressed his forehead on the cool metal surface, trying to draw strength from it.

  “I think we’re in trouble,” he whispered.

  “We got trouble,” Reanna called down the corridor.

  The Templar tried to rise, making it to a sitting position before Pip pressed her hand against his chest.

  “Better let me handle it,” she said. “You need to be one hundred percent when we get Robe.”

  She ran out of the door, leaving the Templar with Bruce.

  “How are you coming along?” he asked.

  Bruce licked his lips, still nervous in front of the warrior.

  “Almost finished,” he said. “Sir,” he added as an afterthought.

  The Templar smiled grimly.

  “We’ll make a soldier of you yet.”

  He projected a small glamour on Bruce, a vision of confidence and camaraderie. The young assistant felt his chest swell, and choked back pride. He resumed his calculations with renewed vigor.

  The Templar nodded his satis
faction and lay down, willing himself to be well, to be stronger.

  “We need to be stronger,” she couldn’t sit in her seat. Her body hummed with energy and excitement, she felt like someone had loosed a plasma bolt in her arteries, firing her up.

  “He’s alive,” she wanted to sing.

  “We’re triple posted as it is,” Bram said. “We have snipers at every level of access. He can’t fly, walk, crawl, or swim anywhere near here.”

  “But he might try. And as far as we know, he’s not vulnerable to our weapons.”

  “That’s why we have that,” he pointed to the vial on her desk.

  She had covered it in a glass cube, sealing it away from the room but keeping it in full view. It was death wind, and a whiff of the airborne virus would kill the Templar, attacking his vulnerable immune system. In theory.

  Nova had a hypothesis or two about the boys in R & D and their theories.

  “We can’t rely on that,” she said.

  “Then what? You’ve seen how our guns affect him. What are we supposed to do?”

  “He may not show.”

  “Robe pulled him out of the frying pan, it’s his turn to return the favor,” said Bram. “And we have Darwin.”

  “I’m aware of that. But I had Research working on some plans we found in Darwin’s old files,” she keyed in access to her terminal.

  A hologram appeared over her desk, a floating green blob of indistinguishable lines.

  “That’s new,” Bram admired.

  “Computer brought it on-line today. But that’s not what I wanted to show you. Watch,” her fingers attacked the keyboard in a machine gun stutter of strokes.

  The green matrix hovering inches over the surface of her desk broke apart, scattered and reformed random patterns that slowly grew together to outline a bulky humanoid form.

  “It’s a Suit,” Bram shrugged. “Looks like one of the Series A models.”

  “Almost. Conrad disallowed this model. It was too powerful for the user. And it’s damage potential was off the chart. It ripped through Mob like dead meat.”

  “Like the Templar.”

  “Right. That’s who it made me think of. I knew Conrad always had other designs. This one might beat the Templar and help us hold the Mob back.”

  “I hear a but in there.”

  “But, it’s a drain on the user. That’s why we never produced it.”

  “How? Couldn’t we use the enhancer’s we’ve developed for the E series Suit and take the load off the wearer?”

  “No,” she shook her head. “This model uses a biomech interface.”

  He sat up in his chair.

  “Biomech? The Council outlawed that years ago.”

  “The test runs drove Troopers crazy. they couldn’t handle having a Computer inside of them, a part of them.”

  “You said you had Research on it?”

  “They’re trying to make the Suit work without biomechanics. Right now, we have two prototypes of this model.”

  Sweat broke out on his brow. Bram wiped it away with his forearm.

  “You think it’s the only way we can beat him?”

  “I’m not asking you to do it. I’m not even authorizing their use yet. But if it comes down to his coming back, we need this machine to capture him.”

  Bram slumped in the chair, letting the information wash over him. Part of the code was sacrifice of oneself for the team, but he wasn’t sure if it meant giving up your conscious for survival. He glanced at the reports on her monitor, recalling in the deepest recesses of his memory the basic mechanics of how this Suit worked. It was an integration between Computer and human, a symbiotic relationship that made the Suit and man nearly one in the same. Even outside the shell, the wearer carried components with him, micromachines floating in his bloodstream, black access cells on the biceps and thighs, and a tube from the spinal cord that stuck somewhere out of the neck. He shivered.

  Nova hadn’t asked him, but the question was there, even if unspoken. Bram could have one of those Suits to protect the Troops from the Templar.

  “What’s the vial for then?” he asked.

  She sat on the corner of the desk, facing him.

  “I was waiting for you to ask,” she moved from her desk to the window. “The truth is, I don’t really know what’s in that vial. R & D tell me it’s the flu, something we wiped out years ago. But Bram, you took Bio like I did. Viruses evolve, just like us. How do I know I’m only going to kill the Templar with that glass jar? What if I unleash a plague? What if it kills half of everyone? I can’t be responsible for that.”

  “So we sacrifice one man, for the sake of a chance. And there are no guarantee’s on that.”

  “My dilemma,” she held up her hands and paced around the room. She stopped behind his chair and stared at the portrait. “I thought about taking the Suit myself.”

  “You can’t do that.”

  “Don’t you think I know. I’ve been trained to lead these Troops, I can’t-”

  The door slid open behind her. She turned, Bram leaped across the room, crouching.

  Webster stepped through the door, looking at both with surprise.

  “You are fast,” he told Bram. “Hope I’m not interrupting.”

  He sauntered across the room to her chair, and sat down, propping his feet up on the desk.

  “Make yourself at home,” Nova said, dropping her hand to the pistol at her belt.

  “Don’t mind if I do,” he grinned.

  Bram stalked to the corner of the desk. He fought down an urge to reach across the ebon surface and crush the throat of the smiling man.

  “We’re in a meeting,” Nova said.

  “I think I know what it’s about,” Webster said. “I hear your prisoner was alive and maybe coming for some friends of his. I took the liberty of making arrangements. Ju?”

  A large figure stepped into the room. It was a prototype Suit, moving with a fluid grace that belied its size.

  “You’re supposed to be resting,” Bram said.

  “I am content, Second Commander,” Ju’s once animated voice now had a flat metallic ring to it. “Mr. Webster offered me a chance to experiment with a new Suit and work for my Team. You approve, Commander?”

  “Mr., see, that’s respect,” said Webster.

  Nova reached across the desk and jerked him out of her chair by the lapel of his coat.

  “How long has he been in that?”

  “Too long for you to disassociate. He’ll lose it if you pull the plug.”

  Nova growled. Webster struggled to free himself from her grip.

  “How dare you-”

  “I gave him a choice,” Webster defended himself, squirming.

  “Ju? Did Webster tell you about the side effects?”

  His face remained neutral, but his metallic voice held a tinge of worry.

  “What side effects?”

  “Did Webster tell you about losing your identity in the interface?”

  “What does that mean?”

  “You won’t be you anymore,” Bram said. “The Computer part of the Suit will integrate itself with you.”

  “I am stronger. I am faster. I am improved.”

  Bram put his hand on the young Trooper’s shoulder. The metal was cold and unyielding.

  “But you’ve lost-”

  “I’ve had him in the Suit for two days, he doesn’t know what you’re talking about,” he disentangled himself from Nova’s grip and moved by the door. “The Computer has accessed his current status and deemed it favorable. Sorry to go over your head Commander, but it’s for the best.”

  “I hate you,” she said.

  “Love, hate, what does it matter. When I have the prisoner killed, the Council will see how ineffective you are and instate me.”

  He bolted for the door.

  Bram launched himself, Ju reached out and caught his leg in mid air.

  “I am sorry Sir, I cannot let you chase him.”

  Bram dangled off the ground
. Webster stopped at the door.

  “You like? A little bodyguard program I threw in at the last minute.”

  He ran out of the room.

  “Stephen!” Nova yelled.

  Stephen stepped in the doorway, holding Webster up by one arm. The man squirmed and squealed, but could not get free.

  “You wanted him?”

  Nova pulled her hand off the intercom.”

  “Bring him in.”

  Ju advanced on Stephen.

  “I am sorry Commander. I cannot let you harm this man.”

  She stood in front of Ju and placed both hands on either side of his faceplate, searching his dead eyes.

  “What is your primary program?”

  “Obey the Commander.”

  “And if that program violates a secondary command?”

  “Disregard the secondary command.”

  “Right. I order you to hold this man until I give you permission to release him.”

  Ju dropped Bram and took Webster from Stephen. He held him in a bear hug, squeezing him tight.

  “Let me go. I’ll tell the council-”

  Nova leaned in close, touching his nose with hers.

  “You’ll tell them nothing,” she threatened.

  “Will you need me for anything else?”

  “Thank you,” she dismissed Stephen.

  Bram curled up in a ball on the floor, massaging his ankle.

  “That grip,” he moaned. “Your strength must have doubled with that Suit.”

  “Current estimates are one hundred ninety five percent increase over your model of Suit, sir.”

  Bram shook his head.

  “You got your volunteer,” he said to Nova. “You don’t have to use the vial now.”

  Nova looked at the Trooper standing against the wall, acting as shackles.

  “At least you would have had the choice. You’re going to hurt Webster.”

  “You can’t prove anything,” he gasped, struggling to draw a deep breath. “There are no records.”

  She pointed to the cameras running in the corners of the room.

  “I’m not worried,” he said, half laughing.

  “You better be,” she answered.

  The Templar sat up quickly, wincing at the rush of pain in his left arm. He palmed the sleep from his eyes, and searched the empty room, brain racing to discover what changed in the last few seconds to wake him.

 

‹ Prev