TERM 5
New Angeles provides lease of labor and facilities for up to three years to Army to build defensive center. Army and New Angeles expansion limits defined.
Mission looked around the room. Not a single member of the audience would even look at him. "Term number five provides the Army with a three year window of opportunity to build a defensive outpost on the side of Triton opposite New Angeles. The city will lease space, equipment and labor to the Army at rates specified in attachment two. The Army will find the rates much more attractive than shipping supplies and labor from Earth."
"The Army will have no jurisdiction or even visitation rights toward New Angeles. This term will also specify initial expansion rights for the city and the defensive facility. Finally, term number six."
TERM 6
Independent synthetics agree to leave Earth and to not return. Army agrees to support negotiations at Winwood Hotel. Army agrees to pay damages from combat synthetics into escrow account.
“I will lead a group to the Winwood Hotel to negotiate with Paine. I will require a defensive capability composed of Montag, Major Pierce, and any Army weaponry he deems necessary. The purpose of the visit is to inform Paine that he and his followers cannot remain free on Earth."
He turned toward the screen showing Atwood. "This is an important point for humans and synthetics. On Earth, free synthetics are renegades and can be recovered without reprisal at any time. Concurrently, Paine has demonstrated his group to be a threat to humans and synthetics. The most important point of term six is that no liberated syn may remain on or visit Earth."
"Thus, the only alternative I can offer them is refuge in New Angeles. Any synthetic refusing sanctuary must be recovered."
Atwood said, "Don't dress it up with a word like recovered. Say it like it is. Say murdered."
"It's their choice Arthur. This isn't the slavery or death choice. This is the freedom of New Angeles or recovery that usually means death. So, I think murdered is histrionic. How about suicide by proxy?"
Atwood remained silent. Mission went on. "We will approach Paine and attempt to resolve the Winwood stronghold. This will give us final figures on damages caused by combat modified synthetics versus those produced solely by Paradox. I have here preliminary damages caused by combat syns and those moneys will be paid by the Army into an escrow account. Additional damages will be assessed after the Winwood expedition."
He brought up a summary of the terms:
New Angeles/Paradox/Pioneer/U.S. Army Settlement Agreement
TERM 1
New Angeles Incorporates.
TERM 2
New Angeles purchases the settlement facility at $48.122 billion.
Financed over 15 years at prevailing 15 year bond rates.
TERM 3
New Angeles purchases all synthetics in New Angeles from Paradox per attached formula. Financed over 15 years at prevailing 15 year bond rates.
TERM 4
Paradox Continues Sales of Current Synthetic Models to New Angeles. Price increase by petition to independent auditing firm.
TERM 5
New Angeles provides lease of labor and facilities for up to three years to Army to build defensive center. Army and New Angeles expansion limits defined.
TERM 6
Independent synthetics agree to leave Earth and to not return. Army agrees to support negotiations at Winwood Hotel. Army agrees to pay damages from combat synthetics into escrow account.
Pioneer's attorney said, "You call this equitable? Where's the downside for Paradox? Are you sending them to bed without supper?"
Mission said, "You're realizing a profit from your mining settlement. The synthetics of New Angeles are gaining their freedom and the ability to, in a sense, reproduce. The Army is getting the outpost they need to defend us against invading alien sons of Elvis Presley. Paradox is guaranteed a sale of less than 1/2 % of their annual sales while holding a flagship model that can't be sold anywhere else. Why don't you ask them if this makes their day?"
Mission clicked his com closed and said, "I look forward to reading any comments supplied to me within 48 hours."
66
Mission expanded his list of keywords for search through the city's information sources. He exhausted the newspapers, and other public record documents and now broke into closed files like those of the city police. Finding information on Free Zone incidents of violence was difficult. He knew the police and other agencies sent their people into the Zone, but case file records like that only found their way into the central database if charges were brought.
The computer queried him for entry for two, Major Carson Pierce and Sergeant Pete Wells. Mission frowned and activated the security camera. Okay, Pierce wasn't under duress.
"Access granted."
A minute later Mission shook hands with Carson and then with Sergeant Wells, who was about 5'10" with a barrel chest and forearms the size of Mission's calves. He kept his sandy hair cut short, which exposed several scars at the hairline of his forehead. Mission got them each a beer and they sat.
Carson said, "We need another person on the team or we will all die. Pete here is a weapons and tactical expert. He trains and outfits small groups for guerrilla maneuvers. He worked with the team that rescued the nurses in Mexico City."
Mission nodded. "Impressive. That tells me you should be a Sergeant Major or in Officer's Candidate School. What's your problem Wells?"
Wells never blinked as he put his beer down. "The Army values me for what's in my head instead of what I can do. I don't like that."
"You're saying the Army doesn't want to risk you in actual operations?"
"Yeah, something like that."
"Then I'm confused. Are you here to outfit and train us or to be a member of the team?"
Wells smiled. "Both. My Major and Colonel wouldn't let me go, but General Steele overruled them."
"Okay. Welcome aboard. What's next?"
Carson smiled. "Ask us what we've been doing."
Mission sighed. "Okay, what have you been doing?"
Wells said, "I've been planning ways to kill you."
"What?"
Now Wells was in his element. "The first part of planning a strike like this is to take the enemy's perspective and figure out how to neutralize you most easily. Adding the syn's capabilities into the equation makes this more difficult. But I'd gas you. There's plenty of nerve gasses floating on the streets, especially in the Zone. I'd box you in and kill you in fifteen seconds. Seventy-five if you're lucky enough to have caught a breath just before the canister goes off. They'll stand right over you and laugh while you die."
Mission grinned. "You're right. We need him. What's the overall plan here?"
Carson said, "We meet at Quantico tomorrow for weapons orientation. Pete says we can be operations ready in three days. That means with a day's slack, we go in on Sunday. Sound good?"
"Yeah, I'll let Montag know."
Carson and Pete left and Mission stood in the middle of the apartment thinking that perhaps he would live through all this.
Quantico survived as the consummate Marine training base. The discipline and attention to detail was almost painful to watch. A very serious looking Private escorted Mission and Montag to a training room where Carson and Pete waited.
Pete looked at his watch and said, "Three minutes late. Let's get started."
They moved up to the table where they saw four neat stacks of weaponry including some of their old friends like the ultrasonics grenades and the magnetic interrupters.
Pete said, "We've tried to integrate all the weapons and equipment needed into a easy access rig we all can wear."
He pointed to a clear plastic box. "Nasal filters. Insert deep into the nasal cavities where they expand to form an airtight seal. They'll filter gasses from twenty to thirty minutes. Increasing difficulty in getting air indicates the filters are nearing full."
He pointed to a slim canister about four inches long in a pocket on
the vest/harness. "Independent oxygen supply. Oral clip can rest inside the collar until you're ready to use it. There's a stop you can hold between your teeth. You have to bite down slightly to release the oxygen. That way you can release, stop the flow and talk and then start the oxygen again. Twenty minute supply."
Pete continued, "Now, we have elasticized flak suits with thermal shield and grounding unit. They’ll stop the majority of bullets fired, they provide excellent insulating properties from the ionized burns of the blaster weapons, and they attenuate electrical currents. Bursts up to 100,000 volts or sustained charges up to 800."
Mission said, "Look, all this is first rate, but we need to think about how this will look. We can't go in there looking like tank commanders and then say we’re here to negotiate a peace settlement. We have to avoid looking threatening."
Pete looked at Carson and said, "Right. Now if you'll look over at ... "
Mission yelled, "Hey! I'm not talking just to hear my voice. These are the conditions of the assignment."
Pete got right in Mission's face and said, "Carson told me you might back away some, but he never said you were one of those Momma's boy, talk it away types."
Carson said, "Listen, you two have ... "
Mission snapped, "Stay out of it Carson! Listen, Wells. This is my task to lead. You don't like the conditions, take your toys and go home. We'll be the ones in the middle of the action out there. As for the Momma's boy, take your best shot and let's see who cries."
Well's face turned beyond purple and headed for black. As his right arm started back for an uppercut to the stomach, Mission's forearm caught him in the face and slapped him down. Before he even hit the ground, Mission stomped his stomach hard and Wells contracted into a fetal ball. Mission walked away as Wells rocked from side to side trying to catch his breath.
Almost five minutes later, Wells regained enough breath to say, "You caught me when I wasn't ready , but ... "
"Well, it's all about being ready, isn’t it? You ever had an enemy warn you to prepare for attack? The truth is, at best you have four hours real combat time under your belt and several years of prep. Me, I fought for my life almost every day for fourteen years."
"Now, we'll carry everything you laid out for us, provided it doesn't tip our hand. Are you in or out?"
Wells wiped his face and said, "In."
"Good, We're gonna need you. Pick up where you left off."
Wells stood up and slowly walked back to the table. "Okay, in terms of weapons we have these devices you're already familiar with, plus these guys."
He pointed to items about the size of a roll of quarters with a pull ring on top. "Wear these inserted into the vest connected to the rings or not, it's your option. White are for flash charges and will blind a human for up to ten seconds. We don't yet know the effects on syns. Reds are explosive charges that'll take down the entire hotel. Obviously a final option, don't attach these by the pull ring. Orange are explosive charges more in the range of taking out an eight by eight foot room. Black are smoke canisters. The smoke doesn't significantly affect breathing, although you won't like the smell. It'll completely obscure 900 square feet for up to eight minutes depending on ventilation."
"In terms of firearms. Mission, I hear you carry a Glock Ion. Fine gun. Carson and I carry Stilettos plus I carry a Winston Penetrator. Those ionized charge guns are fine, unless you're shielded. The Winston can penetrate up to 3/8" of armor plating. Montag? What type of firearm do you carry?"
Montag shook his head and said, "I will not carry a weapon designed to kill."
Pete threw down the vest he held and said, "Great! Mission wants us to look nice and a quarter of our team won't carry firearms. These robots are going to fucking kill us all!"
He looked around the room, trembling with anger. Mission said very quietly, "At New Angeles, Montag took four ion shots when the ambush hit us. He gave us enough time to get to cover and get out alive. He goes with us."
Pete walked toward the door and yelled over his shoulder, "Fifteen minute break" and left.
Mission looked over at Carson and said, "Another one succumbs to the ole Mission charm. Let's think about what we can do for Montag. Where's a vue screen?"
When they resumed, Mission said, "Look Pete, with all these ion weapons, we're going to have some fires if we scuffle. I know we can breathe, but the smoke will blind us."
Pete grinned and said, "You've got that right. We have these special two-part contact lenses. You apply them to the eyes and the sections separate to travel far underneath the eye, providing complete protection from the environment. As a bonus, they give you night vision capabilities when the lights go out. I'm already used to them but you and Carson need to put them in at least twice a day and get your wearing time up to between six and eight hours."
Two days later, Mission dove underneath a shelter made of logs with dried mud in the cracks. He panted and wheezed so hard he wondered if a lung would come up. Too late, he realized that Wells approached. He dove into the shelter and landed directly on Mission, knocking the wind out of him. Wells rolled off him into the corner and sprayed ion charges all over the southeast section of the field.
Mission sensed movement in the opposite direction and looked up in time to see Pierce and Montag reach a knot of trees and spray the other side of the field. Wells clicked his watch and yelled, "Time!"
Then he spoke into the transmitter on his collar and said, "Drill number seven is ended. Halt all fire. Halt all fire. Provide confirmation from all five posts."
Once the five enemy posts confirmed end of drill, Mission's team, or maybe it was Well's team for the duration of the training, pulled out of their positions and back into the field. Wells turned around and said, "We are turning in some outstanding results. But you!"
He pointed at Montag. "You have a death wish. It's fine to protect the humans, but you need to consider this. If you throw yourself in front of a bullet, you are crippling yourself and robbing your team of the protection you're charged to provide. Protect your teammates by securing positions and providing covering fire!”
Montag nodded weakly. Wells turned to Mission. "And you. You dove into the shelter and rested. You're lucky it was me and not the enemy. And you're lucky they didn't bomb the shelter immediately. Covering fire! Bullets are cheap. So are body bags! Take your choice."
Mission nodded again. Wells was 100% right. But he sure loved this drill sergeant shtick. They moved over to a modified firing range. Wells said, "Mission, why don't you explain to me what we're about to see."
"Okay, for purposes of these drills, Montag will use the Scorpion automatic weapon with rubber bullets like city cops use for crowd control. He can be somewhat effective with that gun. If I see him blasting away, I put my head down and probably never realize he's firing rubber. But we have two more weapons for him."
"The first was developed by game hunters and zoo keepers. It fires a cartridge that upon discharge, opens into an eight by eight foot weighted net. Eight out of ten times it'll take a man down and knot him up for several minutes. It works like a single feed sawed off shotgun. Montag will test it here."
"Second, I got Elliot over at Paradox to modify and streamline the magnetic interrupters. Pretty cool, huh?"
He held one up. It was slightly larger than two stacked half dollars. "The magnetic field strength is compromised, so there is no guarantee of complete paralysis, but if it touches them, it’ll mess them up."
Mission held up a large pistol with a barrel opening that indicated the interrupters were discharged like Frisbees. "A clip holds twenty. Effective range up to forty yards."
He turned back to the team. "Paradox has provided us with a number of synthetics being refurbished. That is their brains are being rebuilt. So they can participate in these drills without suffering pain as even a syn knows it. Montag, take your weapons. Who knows when or where the attack will begin."
They stood there for a few minutes and then Carson and Pete started talking
weapons and muzzle velocities. Mission finally sat on the grass and lit a cigarette. He looked around and said, "So Montag, what were you doing before you got recalled for duty with us?"
Montag answered, "I worked as a domestic for an Iranian family fearing reprisals from a rival faction back home. I taught the children ... "
An explosion echoed across the field and three syns from three different directions closed quickly. Montag took the closest one with the net gun and then fell to ground, rolling and firing his magnetic interrupters. Three shots, three direct hits. Each of them immobilized. Montag sprang lightly to his feet and sprinted for the cover of the trees. He pulled out the Scorpion and sprayed it into the woods. Mission wondered what in the hell he was doing until he saw a syn duck behind a huge oak.
Montag took a spare interrupter clip and ejected a charge into his gloved hand (his magnetically shielded hand). He crept up on one of the syns and clamped it on his spine in a lightning move. Before the attack even got moving, Montag immobilized all seven attackers. Wells walked up to him and shook his hand. "I take it back. I want you out there with us."
As he walked away, he turned and yelled, "Just stop standing in front of loaded guns!"
Then he turned to the rest of the group. "We're as ready as we'll ever be. Rest tomorrow and we'll storm the castle on the day after."
67
Mission sat on the couch, cleaning his Glock. A glass of iced tea sat on the coffee table in front of him. Susan rushed through the door saying hello on her way into the bedroom. A moment later she rushed back into the room in a state of undress asking, "You're getting ready to do it, aren't you?"
Mission turned to look at Susan topless and said, "I'm sorry, but I seem to be suffering from a severe lack of blood to my brain."
He stood up and moved toward her. "I think it's all headed someplace else."
He kissed her as he ran his hands over her. She tried to pull away. "No really. Are you planning ... "
Living in Syn Page 30