by Fleet, Ricky
“Sir, we’ll cover your six while you head south.”
“Understood,” Bateman muttered. He’d lost half his team to the beasts who were rapidly growing in their cunning. Things were going to get a lot worse for the poor schmucks who still existed on the barren rock called Planet Earth.
Wearily turning from the sheer cliff face and crumbling edge, he started to move. The heavy sonic booms of the discharging tank barrels shattered the silence. Skyscrapers were ravaged by the blasts which landed amongst them and the horde of infected. Thousands of the creatures were killed as the crushing weight of countless floors bore down. Bateman didn’t even look back.
Chapter 14
“We’re going to split you among the seats now,” explained Bateman. “Your gunnery trainer will show you how the arm works and sync you with the temporary program necessary to fire it.”
“This isn’t against live subjects, is it, sir?” Bob asked.
“Heavens, no. As I said earlier, they’re safely secured in the caverns below.”
“Shame.”
“You’ll get your chance in the coming days, don’t fret.”
“Good.”
Bateman stood back and observed as the trainers claimed their subjects. Andy was joined by Bob, Cargill, and Teng. Leading them to the chairs, ear plugs lay on a shelf fixed to the wall separating the ranges.
“I’m Norman, and I’ll be showing you the ropes today. It’s going to get loud, so if you could all put the ear protectors in that’d be great.”
“We won’t hear you,” said Bob.
Andy pointed out the receiver on the tiny component.
“Ahh.”
Popping them in, the silence was absolute. Even the tinnitus from his previous life had been wiped away during the cloning procedure.
“Testing. Can you hear me.”
They all nodded.
“Good,” said Norman, scanning his tablet. “Burton, you’re up first.”
Climbing the metal steps, the sheer size of the arm impressed itself upon him. Over eight feet long, the twin barrels added another twelve inches.
“How will I control it? My hand won’t reach anywhere close to the elbow, let alone the gun.”
“Come and take a look,” Norman urged. The ceiling mount held the arm where the shoulder would otherwise have been. Peering inside the massive appendage, Andy could see a glove with myriad wires stretching from the fingers and palm. “The glove will act as your trigger. Your index finger will fire the main cannon, while depressing your thumb will launch the adaptive grenades.”
“How do I move the arm? With the glove?” Andy asked, staring at the opening. It was two and a half feet in diameter, plenty big enough to practically climb inside.
“Either through moving or just with your mind. Your neural link is complete, so all you need to do is imagine the limb as an extension of yourself. It sounds crazy at first, but you’ll see.”
“If you say so.”
Looking a little sheepish, the trainer held out an object and for a second Andy was unsure of its purpose. It was a nut cup.
“Sorry, but you need to put this on before we can secure you. It would get a little… uncomfortable otherwise.”
Taking the protection, Andy unashamedly pulled down his trousers and Norman glanced away. Surprised by the embarrassed reaction, he joked, “Nothing you haven’t seen before I’ll bet.”
“No, but I still like to afford the soldiers some privacy. Now, climb into the cockpit; It’s an exact replica of the one within the Mech suits.”
Andy did as instructed, letting the trainer secure him to the padded chassis. The heavy belts looped over his shoulders with another stretching around the waist containing the clasp.
“It’s quite tight,” said Andy.
“It needs to be. When you’re out there fighting the infected it can get a little bumpy. We don’t want you rattling around like a pea in a whistle when the going gets rough.”
A final strap was retrieved from between his legs, snapping into the housing just above the navel.
Feeling the pressure on his groin, Andy said, “Thanks for the cup. My bollocks would be up somewhere near my stomach without it.”
Blushing, Norman ignored the remark. “I’m going to fit the headset now.”
“Is it as heavy as the bloody thing from earlier? I nearly cracked a vertebra keeping that thing upright.”
“Nowhere near,” he replied, pulling out a lightweight cap. “The psyware link requires a hell of a lot of data flowing in both directions, hence the bulky nature of the equipment. This thing just sends the impulses from your mind after you’re synced. The Mech suit then carries out the thoughts.”
“I don’t mind telling you I’m still confused to hell by all this stuff.”
“It’ll all become clear soon. The suit becomes an extension of yourself; you’ll feel your own movements as well as that of the machine.”
“I don’t feel its damage, do I?”
“Not at all.”
“Well that’s something.”
“If you’d be so kind as to put the glove on.”
Andy pulled the black sheath out of the arm, before pulling it on and tightening the Velcro strap. Flexing his fingers without thinking, he cringed, waiting for the burst of gunfire to ricochet from the walls and kill them all.
“Don’t panic. You need to think the gun active before it’s live.”
“Huh?”
“When you’re out there in the wastes and under threat your brain will deactivate the safety. Today, you’re going to need to take the first step in training your brain to switch it on and off at will.”
“What’s to stop me accidentally shooting someone after I’ve done that?”
“This gun will only fire when it is both live and facing downrange. Nothing you can do will put any of us in danger, I assure you.”
“Ok, that’s good to know.”
“Are you ready to link your mind?”
“Is there a margarita on a beach waiting for me?”
“I’m afraid not. Just a sensation of floating for a second or two and then you’re good to go.”
“Do it.”
Recoiling from the strange feeling, Andy clutched at the fastenings to stop himself from drifting away. A pop in his mind snapped him back and for the first time he could see the psyware in action. His right arm was now two individual arms, but he could feel the metal limb as if it was his own. The electrical impulses from the gun felt real, like touching something, or a breeze causing the fine hairs to stand up on the skin. It was the most bizarre thing he’d ever experienced. Curling his real arm, the Mech arm mirrored the movement.
“Remember, you can control it in two ways,” Norman started to explain. “You can remain entirely still and effectively become one with your Mech, using your thoughts and nothing else. Or you have the space to use your arms and legs as if you were running, fighting, punching, whatever.”
“Let me try.”
Relaxing his arm, the barrel dropped. Sending a command to raise the barrel and point it down the extensive range, it complied instantly without so much as a twitch of real muscle.
“Holy shit. This is blowing my mind.”
“Go with it,” Norman urged. “Remember, you’ll need to mentally deactivate the safety. Can you see the red line around the arm?”
Andy looked over and he could make out the digitally imposed colouration. “I see it.”
“Now imagine the gun is active and it should change to green to indicate you’re ready to rock and roll.”
Focussing on the task, the red light disappeared and a green, strobe like outline surrounded the massive appendage. “I think that’s worked.”
“Good. Now I want you to raise the barrel and fire a short burst.”
“Is that sand?” Andy asked, squinting to make out the distant mound.
“Yes, we don’t use old fashioned bullet traps anymore as you’re firing explosive tipped rounds. They blow the san
d to hell and we pile it back up again for the next day’s testing.”
“That makes sense,” Andy replied. Curling his index finger, explosive discharge spat from the barrel ports. The massive indoor dune erupted as each slug hit home and detonated.
“Good.”
“Good? It’s amazing!”
“They’re impressive, aren’t they?” Norman beamed. “Those things kick out three hundred rounds a minute. That was direct fire completed. I now want you to strafe the back wall, left to right and back again.”
Andy nodded. The rear of the complex lit up with a simple twitch of a finger. Raking the dune, clouds of displaced sand formed an impenetrable barrier. When the dust had settled, the tidy pile was scattered in every direction.
“Good, you’ve picked that up quicker than most.”
“It wasn’t hard,” Andy replied.
“A lot of the trainees end up snatching the barrel, but you had total control over the movement. We have one more test and then you’re done for a while.”
“What’s next?”
“Can you see the runners embedded in the floor?”
“Yeah.”
“This is going to be like whack-a-mole. A random sequence of fake, poly-mould infected are going to pop up and move in random directions. You need to hit as many of them as possible.”
“Piece of cake.”
“I like your confidence. Three… two… one… go.”
Studying the vast space, Andy was ready. The first popped up and he swung the barrel towards it. Moving in a diagonal direction away from him, it took half a second for the bullets to catch the grotesque, fleeing mannequin. The figure blew apart, raining molten plastic onto the floor.
“It’s no different to normal deflection techniques. Those bastards move like lightning, so you’ll need to lead the target.”
Two more sprung from the ground, moving in opposite directions. Andy responded to the advice and opened fire a couple of paces in front of the closest dummy. The explosive round found its mark, blowing the head clean off. Leaving the blazing neck of the decapitated target, he moved to take down the second. The speed threw him off and he overcompensated by a couple of feet. Dropping back beneath the floor, it was gone as the bullets impacted harmlessly at the rear of the facility.
“Fuck!”
“Don’t sweat it. You’ll have ample time to hone your skills on the ranges before you do the RTCS. This is just a familiarization exercise.”
Twenty more times the abominations popped up, in varying numbers and directions. Norman was smiling by the end of the exercise. “That was a sixty eight percent success rate. Fourteen percent higher than anyone else has ever achieved. Are you sure you haven’t done this before?”
“I’ve died quite a few times, so I suppose it’s likely.”
Norman blanched. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I know, I was messing with you,” Andy chuckled. “Beginners luck I guess.”
“You’re mean!”
“Are we done?”
“Yup. Let me disconnect you from the mainframe.”
Removing the cap, Andy felt the familiar pop as he was desynced. Norman removed the straps while Andy pulled the glove off and removed the groin cup. Handing it over, the trainer’s face reddened.
“Thanks for the fun.”
“You’re welcome.”
Passing Bob’s training, Andy chuckled at the yells of rage and expletives as the fakes popped up and down from the floor.
Chapter 15
Tamsin stared at the computer screen, taking sips from her steaming mug of synthetic coffee. Her apartment was shrouded in darkness except for the sharp glow of the monitor. For some reason she preferred the gloom for her endeavours, as if the shadows could conceal her insubordinate actions. Hell, some would even call them treasonous. It made little difference. Putting a stop to her life’s goal would be no less impossible than eradicating the mutant infestation with a wish. It was in her DNA as much as the coded improvements to her mental function. Decades of work in both lives had finally culminated with a flashing cursor and the word Proceed screaming at her to be pressed. Tamsin’s hand trembled with a mixture of adrenaline and dread as the prophetic word loomed towards her. Spilling the black liquid, it burned painfully. Biting down on her lip to avoid crying out, it was easy to imagine someone investigating the noise and discovering the truth. Traitor! They would yell, before dragging her away for… Well she didn’t really know. Re-education? Imprisonment? Execution? Crime was largely non-existent since the infected tried to eat everyone. A bit of black-marketeering and the occasional fight amongst the competing military arms was the worst that had been reported for many years.
“You could just delete the whole thing,” she proposed, staring at the private server in the corner of her meagre living quarters. Many risky trips had been required to slowly acquire the components and memory storage capable of sustaining the unborn AI. It slumbered in the microprocessors, dormant for the time being. With a few hastily typed commands, the entity could be smothered in the womb, so to speak. It would save her a world of hurt. Not to mention the rest of humanity which could be wiped out if it went rogue.
“It can’t go rogue,” she argued with herself.
The system was completely independent of the Divinity mainframe. Only by attaching a cable between the server unit and the wall port could it ever escape.
“What if it hypnotised you?”
Could computer programs do that? It was possible, she supposed. The thought was quite unsettling. It could make her cluck like a chicken, strip naked, and then doom mankind with a few bleeps and a pixelated metronome rocking on the screen.
“Just look away then. It’s not as if you have to keep staring while it tries to take over your mind.”
Tamsin’s stomach was doing somersaults. The butterflies flapping around inside her gut were performing their own fluttering acrobatics.
Just do it!
No, don’t!
Think of the children!
Ignore that! The children want you to press that button!
“Why would the children want me to press it?”
Her mind went around in conflicting circles of doubt and certainty. She understood the source of the procrastination all too well. In truth, she’d believed the feat was impossible, especially without the amazing minds of her counterparts from the European Research Institute. Now here she was with a breakthrough of such magnitude it could alter the course of their future. It could also bring an end to their future. Cyborgs rampaging across the land, massacring the cowering pockets of humanity. Using their bodies to make a paste which would fuel their army.
“Where are you getting this shit from?” she asked her overactive imagination.
Movies from the 1980s, it replied.
“That figures.”
Giving herself no more opportunity to analyse the pros and cons, she scrolled on the glass display terminal and tapped, flinching away as if from a gunshot. She watched the screen fearfully, instantly regretting the foolish decision. The command disappeared, leaving only the cursor. Seconds passed. Nothing happened.
“What the heck?”
After a further minute Tamsin was close to breaking point. Her bladder, already full to bursting from six mugs of coffee, was made worse by pent-up nerves. Standing to relieve some of the pressure, it only helped a fraction. Staring at the unresponsive monitor, she willed it to do something, anything. The indifferent pointer ignored her demands. Hopping from foot to foot, she gave in to the insistent pressure. Hurrying to the toilet, she just managed to pull down her trousers and knickers before the flood came. Eyes closed, she shuddered as the euphoric feeling of release consumed her. Sighing contentedly as the last trickles splashed into the water, the toilet flushed, before cleaning and drying her automatically.
“You’ve just dodged a bullet,” she exclaimed at her reflection. “Let’s agree to take a break for a while and reconsider if this is the best opti
on.”
Receiving no argument from her mirror self, Tamsin washed her hands and left the bathroom. The small lounge had lost the feelings of brooding dread, now it was just a room without the lights on. Picking up her cup, she topped up the faux, ground bean nectar and made her way back to the computer. Coming to a sudden halt, she dropped the mug, sending shattered china and steaming coffee all over the floor.
Flashing on the screen was a single word; Hello.
Chapter 16
The server lights were flashing in a way they never had before; rhythmic, flowing. Patterns formed in the different coloured bulbs and they were almost hypnotic. Hypnotic! Tamsin quickly looked away from the memory bank and back to the screen.
Hello? appeared again.
“Shit, shit, shit.”
Glancing at the power cable, the temptation to rush over and yank it from the outlet was almost overwhelming. It wouldn’t erase the entity, whatever it was. It would be like putting it to sleep, or into hibernation. What if it defends itself? Would the cable come alive, bind her and start to… invade her? She could imagine the feeling as sharp wires burrowed through her flesh, seeking out her own server; the brain. Sitting in her chair, immobilised. Nothing more than a drooling mess as the machine acquired her knowledge and memories. Then it would… change her. Adding electronic and robotic elements to her body until she was ready to leave the apartment and hunt the remaining humans.
“You’re losing it.”
Hello? Is anyone there?
“Stop trying to assimilate me!” she snarled, no louder than a whisper.
Coffee! That would do it. If she could pour the remaining contents of her decanter into the server vents it would short circuit and die. She would be the hero, not that anyone could ever find out. She didn’t want to get anywhere near the machine in case it dragged her inside, fusing her into the server to drain.
Don’t be afraid.
“You would say that!”
Grabbing her bag, she fled the apartment. Passing the doors of her neighbours, she had the uncanny feeling they would all fly open at once. Fingers raised, they would scream in computer transmission code, eyes replaced with neon bulbs. Staring in terror at the openings, her finger probed the wall before frantically pressing the call button for the lift.