Devoured World: Volume One

by Fleet, Ricky

  “Hatred’s a powerful motivator.”

  “It’s all we have left now. Hopefully, once the war’s over, I can get my husband and son back. I know I’m not really me and they won’t really be them, but I don’t care. I just want to hold them again.”

  “I understand that feeling all too well. Do you mind if I ask a personal question?”

  “Feel free. It’s pointless to be coy in the apocalypse.”

  “How many times have you been cloned?”

  “Once, one hundred and fourteen years ago.”

  Andy spluttered in surprise. “You only look about thirty.”

  “It’s one of the benefits of our advanced technology,” she sneered.

  “You’d rather still be under too?”

  “Totally. I don’t understand the implications for our new selves in the sense of God, Heaven, The Afterlife, or whatever you want to call it. What if my previous soul is already with my family? Will I just cease to exist when I die? I don’t mind saying it keeps me awake at night.”

  “I don’t have an answer, sorry.”

  “No one does,” she replied, sadly. Letters and numbers cascaded down the screen in a blur, culminating in a ‘Login Active’ appearing.

  “Do you remember what you did… before all this?”

  “I was a computer engineer working with a team of European scientists trying to create a viable artificial intelligence system. Before they tried to take over the world that is.”

  “Did you have any success?”

  “We were close to a breakthrough, that much I remember. The biggest hurdle was ensuring the AI couldn’t become self-aware and override the key operating parameters.”

  “I don’t want cyborgs hunting me, that’s for sure.”

  “I don’t blame you. With careful coding, theoretically it should be possible to create a computer mind that could benefit us all.”

  “Why don’t you approach the empress about it?”

  “I’ve tried, but she says that waging a war on one front is hard enough. If the program should run amok the infected would be the least of our worries.”

  “That seems a bit short sighted.”

  “Perhaps it’s for the best. No one knows if we’ll stand a chance when our real enemy arrives. They may be so far advanced that it’ll be no harder than exterminating an ant colony with boiling water. That’s another thing that eats away at me, you know? Why bother when it’s likely to be for nothing?”

  “That’s a troubling thought,” Andy replied.

  “It would be a great joke if the machines did take over and managed to wipe us all out, though, wouldn’t it? They’d be in for a shock when they landed only to get their asses kicked by an angry computer.”

  Andy chuckled. “Now that’s something I’d like to see.”

  “Can you keep a secret?”

  “I’ll probably be dead again soon anyway. Shoot.”

  “I’ve still been working on it in my spare time.”

  “The AI?

  “Yes.”

  “Is that wise?”

  “My computer’s completely separate from any other system. The worst that could happen if I succeed is that he, she, it, would type expletives on the screen at me.”

  “And if it works?”

  Tamsin shrugged. “It could turn the tide in our favour.”

  “The empress would have to listen if that happened.”

  “Or she’d exile me for disobeying her.”

  “Maybe you should leave it alone then?”

  “I’ve tried, but it’s like an itch I can’t scratch,” she said with evident frustration. “I know how valuable this could be to us.”

  “In that case, good luck with it and try not to get us all killed,” Andy said as she peeled away the electrode. “What do I need to do now?”

  “Nothing for a moment. I need to record the results and present them to Ms Ferdinand. You can go and wait outside with your friends and I’ll be right behind you.”

  “Thanks for the margarita.”

  “You’re welcome. And Andy?”

  Turning, he saw her worried expression. “What?”

  “You won’t tell anyone, will you?”

  “My lips are sealed. Trust me.”

  “Thank you.”

  ∞∞∞∞∞∞

  “Well that was a waste of time,” huffed Zip. “How’d the rest of you get on?”

  Roughly thirty percent of the squad affirmed their success. Andy nodded in agreement. “I’m officially Mech compliant.”

  “You saw the beach? All I got was a blur and a headache.”

  “It was amazing.”

  “Fuck my luck!”

  “Don’t sweat it, I’ve been told about the holo suites. When we get the opportunity, I’m taking you and we’ll kick back on our own island. I’ll even throw in a butler to serve you.”

  “I could get used to that,” she sighed.

  “It’s all fake, but I’ll be damned if it doesn’t feel real at the time.”

  Master Sergeant Hardie marched into the room and conversed quietly with Mia. Seemingly satisfied with the results, he turned to the troops. “Excellent work, everyone. It’s been a while since we’ve had that amount of connections. Those of you moving onto stage three, you’re to remain here. For the rest, we’re going back to barracks. Squad fall in!”

  The disappointed soldiers rose to their feet and stood to attention. Marching from the room, the shutter closed in their wake. Feeling at a loss, Andy shuffled up next to Bob.

  “That waiter was a bit of an odd one,” said Bob.

  “It wasn’t a real waiter, he was part of the computer software.”

  “I don’t like this world,” Bob replied, ignoring the point.

  “I don’t blame you.”

  “Things made more sense in the army, I knew exactly what was expected of me. All this testing is doing my head in.”

  “You were army? I was SBS or so I’m told. It’s still a blank to be honest.”

  “I was a Bootneck,” he replied, still more to himself than Andy. The nickname for the Royal Marines derived from the strips of leather they would affix around their necks to prevent their throats being cut in combat.

  “Glad to have you by my side,” Andy said proudly. The commandos were among the finest fighting force in the world. “I hope I don’t turn out to be a pen pusher cloned by mistake and they made up the special forces bullshit to make me feel better.”

  “You won’t,” Bob declared, finally meeting his gaze. “You carry yourself too well. You’re too watchful and aware of the surroundings to be a desk jockey.”

  “Time will tell. Heads up.”

  Captain Bateman emerged from the office, hands clasped behind his back. Looking them over, he regarded them with pity.

  “You poor bastards.”

  “Captain! You’re not helping!” Mia said with exasperation.

  “Honey, if I’d known what this outfit held in store for me, I’d have volunteered for the Shadow squads.”

  “I’ve told you before about calling me that! Keep this up and I’ll put you on report.”

  “Ok, ok!” Bateman relented, holding up his hands in surrender. “No need to get your panties in a bunch.”

  “That does it!” Mia exploded. Striding away, she shot withering glances over her shoulder.

  “Please excuse my colleague, she finds it hard to take my casual sexism in the humorous way intended.”

  “It was a bit rude… sir,” said Loco, simmering with anger.

  “I can’t help being an asshole. I was an asshole when I first died, and I’m still an asshole. The only reason I’ve not been kicked out of the Sovereign Guard is because I can kill the infected so well.”

  “I think an apology’s in order.” Loco’s cheeks were flushing, and the others could see where she may have got the nickname, and not from any locomotive appreciation. The rules about insubordination hadn’t been explained yet but judging by her demeanour a few days in a ce
ll wouldn’t be a problem.

  “I’ll make it up to her later, soldier. For the time being I’m going to watch how you do on the range. Is everything in order?”

  The technicians looked uncertain without their superior present. “Erm, I think so.” Tamsin responded when no one else would.

  “Good! Let’s get to it then!”

  Standing up, the troops made to form up.

  “Forget that drills crap!” Captain Bateman barked as he marched away. “I don’t give a stuff if you can march in a straight line; it’s so insulting to treat you like raw recruits. Jesus Christ, you’re all decorated combat veterans.”

  Unsure of what to do, Bob turned to Andy. “I guess we’re meant to follow?”

  “It looks like it.”

  “I don’t think military discipline is one of the captain’s strong points.”

  “Not by the looks of it.”

  “I like him!” Bob declared with a firm nod.

  ∞∞∞∞∞∞

  The previously cramped confines of the holding rooms gave way to the first evidence of the vastness of the facility which could be seen from outside. After the roller door to their rear had sealed itself, the captain guided them past four huge openings in the wall. A set of steps in each led up to a command chair. Mounted to the right of the seat was a fully functional Mech arm which the trainee would be able to control. In place of being mounted on the back of the machine which wasn’t there, the huge boxes of ammunition were lined up in a row beneath the steel platform. Hanging from a hook suspended from the ceiling was a smaller, but familiar, set of headgear.

  “This way! We need to go through some safety videos first,” grumbled Bateman, then muttered under his breath, “Pussies.”

  Yet another massive steel shutter came into view as they turned a corner and Bob saw the biohazard sign painted on it. “Is that where the infected are, sir?”

  “Hell, no. That’s just another warning notice about what’s lurking in this facility. The creatures are a mile underground and kept in place by two more sets of countermeasures. I don’t think I need to explain the mayhem that a single one of those bastards could wreak on our city if they ever got out.”

  Andy looked at the red paint and a thought came to him. “If I may, sir? How on earth do you collect new infected when the others get killed during the RTCSs?”

  “It’s a nest, son.”

  “A nest?”

  “Yes. A self-replenishing den of vileness which prevents the need for further incursions to pick up new… material. The cost of securing the host was enormous, but ultimately worth it,” he explained, a dark shadow passing over his face. “It’s saved far more lives than it cost.”

  “Are there more nests?”

  “More than we can count; it’s why this war goes on and on.”

  Ushering them into a side room, the soldiers seated themselves facing the display.

  “Run live fire training safety protocols,” said the captain.

  For eighteen long minutes the information rolled. Clearing jams, pausing to flush the arm with carbon dioxide to keep it cool enough to maintain steady fire rates, the feeding systems and how to reload in the middle of combat, grenade belt isolation in the event of a breach to prevent a catastrophic discharge in the tube. By the time the credits rolled the captain was yawning with boredom. He’d lost count at eleven thousand four hundred and eighty-two viewings, and that was many years ago. The soldiers were fully engaged with the presentation, which considering their lives may depend on the information, was not unexpected.

  Bateman could see some good material among the recruits and allowed himself to hope that at some stage a tipping point may be reached in the mutant war. The Vanquishers were destroying the hives at an increasing rate, but as each was scoured from the planet two more would spring up like aggressive weeds in their place. Even more worrying was the growing number of beasts among the infected who posed far more of a danger than the human variety.

  Suppressing a shudder, he said, “End live fire training safety protocols. Any questions?”

  “Sir, are these briefings available to view outside of this training facility?”

  “You can access them from the main Divinity database. I’d advise committing them to memory if you have any designs on becoming a Mech operator. Even if you only become a reservist I’d suggest it’s beneficial, they could save your ass. Any other questions?”

  “Can you tell us what it’s like being a Mech commander?” Andy asked.

  “The responsibility is huge. Not wall patrol, obviously, but getting the call to mount up for a rescue. I’ve got massive respect for the foot soldiers who brave the wastes outside the walls. When the clamps release and you’re dropping towards the fight, you know that you’re the only thing standing between them and a fate worse than death. Either they face getting eaten… or changed.”

  “Is it worth it?”

  “Holding back the vermin long enough to facilitate an extraction is one of the greatest feelings in the world.”

  Bob frowned and asked the question many of them had been wondering since being spawned. “What does it matter when they can just grow another one of us? Surely it’s a waste of time and resources.”

  Bateman had faced the same question at nearly every preliminary training session. “We’re a victim of our own success, so to speak. Have the medics explained the process, how your improved DNA is taken and used to make you faster, stronger, more capable fighters?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Good, that makes it easier to answer. Our advances in the field of genetics are also allowing the infected to become faster, stronger, more capable killers. We require vast amounts of power and a very complex blend of material to provide you with the growth fluids. All the bastards out there need is one of their hosts. As the stronger versions of yourselves fall in battle, the infected can somehow absorb your new gene sequence which allows stronger mutants to be spawned. The Genesis Initiative have been trying to fathom how they can stop the transfer of this material but have so far drawn a blank.”

  “Marvellous,” Andy spat sardonically. “It’s a never-ending cycle, like the arms races of old. We get a step ahead, they kill us and catch up, rinse, and repeat.”

  The captain shrugged. “Pretty much. What would you suggest we do, give up?”

  “Sorry, sir, it’s been a rough couple of days. I’d never give up, no matter the odds.”

  “I understand how you’re feeling. Sometimes, in the darkest hours, I question the purpose too. But then I think about the shock our interstellar visitors will get when they arrive, only to find we’ve helped to breed a planet of bloodthirsty super mutants. Even if they prevail over us I’d pay money to see the look on their tentacled faces when the infected start to eat them.”

  Bob cocked his head. “They have tentacles on their faces?”

  “Fuck knows, I’m just guessing. They could have a set of testicles hanging from their chins for all I know.”

  Bob nodded as the other troops chuckled. “It’d make a fight that much easier. A quick uppercut and they’d be rolling on the floor puking their guts up.”

  “I think an advanced race like that may have formulated some kind of chin bollock protector, but you never know.”

  “I hope they haven’t. I’d like to crush a few of their nuts.”

  “Bob, they may not have a ballbag chin,” Andy cautioned.

  Bateman wrinkled his face in exasperation at the bizarre tangent the conversation had taken. “Anyway, let’s get to the good bit. You’ll be taking part in groups of four for obvious reasons. The rest of you can sit in here and wait while we run a few test firings.”

  Pointing to his choice of soldiers, they all stood up and followed. Turning back to the others, the captain had a thought. “I wouldn’t recommend it, but if you’re masochists, you can pull up my archived feeds from the onboard Mech cam. I think it’s only fair for you to know what happens when the shit hits the fan out there. I’d suggest
January 6th of last year; Quadrant PR-18. Be warned, it’s brutal viewing.”

  And with that he was gone from the training room. Andy looked at the others for confirmation of what he was about to do. Aside from a couple of nervous glances, no one argued.

  “Go for it,” Bob said.

  “Erm, computer, are you there?”

  The synthesized female voice responded instantly. “Yes, Andrew.”

  “Can you run the archived video from Captain Bateman, January 6th, 2181; Quadrant PR-18?”

  “Yes, Andrew.”

  The Divinity emblem disappeared, and the footage began.

  Chapter 13

  January 6th, 2181.

  Quadrant PR-18

  Formerly known as - Brick, New Jersey.

  Breathing slowly, Bateman studied the desolate environment five hundred feet below. The feelings of vertigo were a thing of the distant past, but he could still recall the paralysing dread that used to accompany the dead drops. His mouth would dry, and the world would start to spin uncontrollably. Only by mastering a form of meditative breathing did he maintain his place on the Mech squads.

  That was a long, long time ago, he mused as the barren wasteland passed in a blur. Aspects of the old civilisation were still evident; roads, crumbling bridges, solitary homes long fallen into decay. In general, the outlying emptiness around the abandoned towns and cities was safe for the foot soldiers. An aberrant infected who lacked some key part of the hive mentality would occasionally wander into the wilderness. They made easy pickings for the covert operators who searched for the encroachment of new nests on the outposts. Once captured, they were sequestered in one of the Genesis Initiatives many laboratories at sea for further study. Not that it ever seemed to help their cause.

  A voice crackled to life from the cockpit speakers of his machine. “Captain, we’ve had an update from Alpha team. They’re locked down in an old hotel north east of the nest. Scans indicate the attempts to seal the burrow during the retreat were unsuccessful.”

  “Shit! How many infected?”

  “Two thousand and climbing.”

  “Any beasts?”