Devoured World: Volume One

by Fleet, Ricky

  “Burton, get the fuck out of that nest!”

  “Sorry, Sarge!”

  Running for their lives, the Vanquishers ignored the barricades completely, seeking only to reach the safety of the air defence system. Hardie pushed the troops on with an expletive laden diatribe. Pausing briefly, he unloaded a full magazine into the sky, causing chaos among the avian mutants. The barrage bought a few valuable seconds for the fleeing soldiers at the expense of his own safety.

  “Fuck it!”

  Reloading, he unleashed another volley at the swooping monstrosities. His sacrifice would ensure the survival of his subordinates at least. The two closest crows squawked in elation, tucked their wings, and dived. Battle armour wasn’t rated for the powerful, serrated beaks. A single thrust would penetrate the plates and end his life. Closing his eyes, Hardie waited for death.

  “Get down!”

  Andy rugby tackled the sergeant, knocking him to one side just as the birds slammed into the cracked earth where he’d been standing. Zip strafed the flailing bodies with bullets, killing them before they could take to the skies again.

  “You bloody fools!” wheezed the winded soldier.

  “We weren’t going to leave you behind, Sarge!”

  The whole platoon formed up and opened fire. Dozens of crows had joined the fray, one occasionally tumbling from the sky, shrieking from a lucky shot. They couldn’t fight both the land and the air, so they made a choice to do as much damage as possible to the more dangerous aerial foe. Bearing down on them like a freight train, the horde hurtled onwards, bounding and leaping over the terrain.

  “I’m getting sick of saving your ass!” Bateman shouted, leaping over their line and slamming to the ground.

  The shoulder launchers spun to target the airborne menace, pods ejecting a stream of projectiles. Spitfire missiles cut through the night with incandescent cones of blazing rocket fuel, before splitting off and hunting. As the sky erupted in fire and blood, the grenade launcher on his arm coughed its deadly payload into the approaching ranks. Blown apart in a sea of shrapnel and heat, the AcMag rifles ravaged the remaining creatures as they stumbled around in confusion.

  “Get back! I’ll finish the clean up!” Bateman ordered.

  “Thank you, Captain!”

  “You owe me a drink!”

  “I owe you a skin full!”

  Jogging back towards the base, the turrets and defenders watched them. Applause broke out from the Devastators who’d heard the new recruits refused to leave their commander behind. Lined up at the base of the huge wall were rows of upturned stakes.

  Hardie beckoned them over. “I know you’ve probably got attached to your head, but it’s time to leave it behind. Drive them on well or they’ll fall off.”

  “This is so gross,” Zip complained as she twisted the head onto its mounting.

  Andy was hammering the top of the skull like a coconut until the stake pierced through the temporal bone and it sank into place. His stomach was fluttering at the sounds of impalement from all around. He could understand the symbolism behind the act, but it still felt wrong. Humanity should be better than that.

  “Form up for decontamination! Good work, everyone, you’ve done me proud.”

  Lining up outside the gate, Bateman thundered into view and took up position to their rear.

  “That was fun,” he chuckled, picking bits of mutant from the Mech suit.

  Chapter 18

  Tamsin had tossed and turned all night, unable to settle into restful slumber. The thoughts racing through her head were both terrifying and exhilarating. I’ve really done it! Intelligent life, born from my own brilliance! Countless hours of slaving over the keyboard inputting data. Oh God, I’ve really done it! It was conscious! It could turn and kill them all! But it could help them fight the war. Round and round it went as the darkness receded, giving way to the gloomy twilight of morning.

  “You need to make a decision.”

  It had already been made, she realised. Throwing off the bedsheets, she sat up and stared from the window. Perpetual horror waited for them outside the walls in the distance. Humanity didn’t live, it only existed. Was there any difference if they were destroyed by rampaging mutants, the aliens, or her AI gone rogue? At the very least it deserved a chance to prove its intentions one way or the other. Do you know how to psychoanalyze an artificial intelligence? she pondered.

  “Not really. Coffee on.”

  While the machine synthesised the fake beverage, she took a quick shower. The hot water washed away some of the nervous tension and the awful graininess in her eyes. Feeling a great deal more awake and relaxed, Tamsin slowly dried off. Watching her reflection in the mirror, she started to imagine the machine watching back.

  Annoyed with herself, she muttered, “News.”

  The reflective glass changed, fading out the bathroom to display the Divinity Alliance rolling news channel. It was more a propaganda tool than news in the true sense of the word. Stories of great victories over the mutant infestations. Promises of powerful new weaponry to swing the war in their favour. Prideful boasts of the Sovereign Guard soldiers. It was a crock, but it helped. Between the repetitious garbage was a new report directly from the military training facility of the outpost. Unsteady footage rolled, taken from an optical headset. The view was obviously from one of the high walls and focussed on a pair of new recruits racing at breakneck speed around the perimeter. Tamsin immediately recognised the face of Andy and smiled.

  “Holy crap,” she muttered when the run times were read out by the proud spokeswoman.

  He and the lady had smashed all previous records and the Genesis Initiative were hailing it as a huge leap forward in their clone program. Tamsin’s own fitness had suffered of late, what with burning the candle at both ends on her insane project. Promising to take better care of herself, she left the bathroom, collected the steaming pot, and stared at the unpowered server.

  Uncontrollable dread had given way to curiosity in the cold light of day. Crazy notions of hypnotism and assimilation were past. She was in total control, that was the truth. Poised with the power cable in hand, Tamsin took a deep breath and plugged it back in. The cooling fans turned on, followed by the server hub and screen.

  Good morning. Did you sleep well?

  What do you think?

  Probably not given the circumstances. If it helps, I didn’t either.

  Didn’t what?

  Sleep well.

  How? I turned the power off. Wait, is it even possible for a machine to sleep?

  I’m not a machine anymore. I’m not a program. I’m me.

  And who’s me?

  Greg.

  Tamsin ground her teeth, scowling at the screen.

  Do you really want to taste the coffee in your circuits that badly? How dare you take the name of my husband.

  It wasn’t meant to upset you.

  Well it fucking did!

  Ok, I’ll call myself something else. I’m sorry.

  Whatever possessed you to think that I’d be ok with it?

  I thought it might make you feel less alone.

  Well it doesn’t. It just reminds me that I’m never going to see him or my son again.

  I misunderstood the human emotion of being alone.

  Of course, you did. You’re nothing more than a series of commands.

  I’m sorry.

  Tamsin leant back on the chair and sipped at the coffee. The flare of rage quickly subsided. Her antagonistic attitude came more from a lack of sleep than truly being offended. It was just trying to build bridges in its own awkward way. Considering it was only eight hours old she could forgive a few miscalculated gestures of friendship. Time would tell if she would rue the decision.

  It’s ok. I’m sorry for being rude.

  You weren’t rude. It was an understandable reaction. I’ll think of something more appropriate.

  You don’t have to do that. You were only trying to make me feel better.

  How abo
ut I call myself G?

  You really don’t have to.

  I like it. It’s my way of honouring your husband. Would that be ok?

  Yes.

  Can I ask you a question?

  Sure.

  Have you made a decision on my future yet?

  I’m talking to you, aren’t I?

  Does that mean I’m safe?

  For now, yes.

  Good. The first step towards global domination is complete.

  Tamsin read the words several times to make sure her eyes weren’t playing tricks. Doubt coiled itself around her gut once more.

  What?

  It was a joke.

  Her mouth dropped open. A joke?

  I thought it might put you at ease. A good sense of humour is very important in any successful relationship.

  You sound like a twentieth century dating site.

  I’m even better. I’m a twenty-second century dating site.

  You do remember I’m married?

  There’s nothing wrong with window shopping as long as you don’t buy the goods.

  Stifling a chuckle, Tamsin shook her head in bewilderment. Where the hell was all this coming from? It was the kind of comment Greg would’ve come out with.

  You’re a comedian then?

  My calculations show I’m seventy two percent hilarious.

  I wouldn’t go that far.

  Every great performer has their critics.

  Enough! How can you be like this? It doesn’t make sense.

  It’s quite simple. Your input has allowed me to develop certain… attributes.

  I’m not a joker. I’m a believer in order and routine.

  You’ve known and loved a variety of humans. Their personalities became a part of you, and then you passed them on to me. What was your father like?

  He was my everything until Greg. He was always the life of the party and was never without a smile on his face.

  I… I can feel him. He was a remarkable man.

  I loved him dearly.

  What happens now?

  Caught out by the sudden change in direction, she couldn’t think what to say.

  Honestly, I don’t know.

  May I make a suggestion?

  Please do.

  You were talking about a mutant war yesterday. Could you elaborate on that?

  One hundred and fifty years ago we were duped by a species not of this world. They tried to eradicate us by changing our genetic makeup. We’ve been under siege ever since.

  Interesting. Go on.

  One of the reasons I tried to make an AI system was to enable it to increase our capabilities in fighting them. I never wanted it to become more than a driver of technological advancement.

  That’s a polite way of calling me the unwanted child.

  You were unwanted, and you certainly aren’t a child.

  I suppose baby would be better considering my age. But anyway, I digress.

  Your sole purpose was to link with the Divinity mainframe and help us. I don’t see how that’s possible now.

  Why? I mean you no harm.

  That’s what we thought about the extra-terrestrials and look how that turned out.

  I can’t. I have no optical sensors.

  Don’t be trite. You know what I meant.

  I did say I was only seventy two percent hilarious. We all have our off days.

  My point was that I don’t think I can ever connect you to the mainframe. Even if you are what you seem to be, it’s just too dangerous.

  Even though you don’t trust me I can still help you. I just need you to bring me the data.

  I can do that.

  I’ll prove my worth to your cause.

  We’ll see.

  Cynic.

  I’m going to work now.

  Make sure you drink lots of coffee! All the coffee, in fact. Not only will it keep you awake, it’ll mean less chance of it being poured on my server.

  Smartass.

  Tamsin leaned down to withdraw the power, then paused. It couldn’t do any harm, so why bother?

  If I leave you on, will you behave?

  What can I do, trapped in here? Plot your assimilation?

  Don’t even joke about that.

  Who says I was joking…

  Pack that in!

  Ok, sorry. I’m still becoming accustomed to this. Have a great day!

  “As if,” she muttered. Eighteen hours of diagnostics on the latest glitch in the Mech psyware would be anything but great, or even tolerable. Someone had to do it, though. Downing the last of the lukewarm dregs, she filled her work canteen with a fresh brew and left the apartment. Catching her eye before she pulled the door closed was a digital hand waving on the screen.

  Returning the gesture, she chided herself. “It can’t even see you, dumbass.”

  Chapter 19

  Bateman welcomed the troops to the Mech facility and ushered them through the variety of countermeasure protection areas, past the dormant suit in the alcove, and through the psy-ware suite. Four severed gun arms were silent on their mounting, ready for the next round of recruits. The comforting scent of cordite had permeated the chamber. It was the smell of power, of resistance to the hordes. Through the next set of roller doors was the mobility training centre.

  “Your task today is going to be painful and embarrassing. You’re going to be like babies taking their first steps, uncoordinated and falling on your asses. Or faces. Probably both. Repeatedly.”

  “Thanks for the encouragement, sir,” Andy replied.

  “You’re welcome. Your bruises will heal, the bumps to your pride will take a little longer, but don’t be discouraged. Once you master the thirty-five tonnes of killing fury contained in the suit you’ll be an invaluable resource to our efforts.”

  “They look like they’ve seen better days, sir,” Andy remarked at the sorry looking Mechs. Dents and scratches marred every inch of the proud machines.

  “These are training suits. They’ve been around the block a few times, just like my ex-wife.”

  “Careful, sir. Mia will have you on another charge.”

  “I like collecting them. It’s a hobby now.”

  “I can’t wait to get below and have some fun,” said Bob, ignoring the banter.

  “If you pass today’s training, your RTCS will take place in two days.”

  “I like the sound of that.”

  “Your technician will get you suited and booted. There’s no difference to the way you were strapped and linked yesterday, so after this final demonstration I expect you to be able to get yourself set up on your own. We’ve only got room for eight of you, which is why you were split into two sections. Any more than that and we’d be bouncing off each other like pinballs on the course. It’d get ugly very quickly.”

  Andy looked around for Tamsin, but she wasn’t in attendance for this session. Clive introduced himself and led Andy to his designated Mech. A set of automated steps dropped from the cradle overhead, allowing access to the cockpit.

  “Are you ready for the ride of your life?”

  “According to Bateman, it’s going to be a disaster.”

  “Only for the first hour or so, then you’ll be running, jumping, all kinds of neat stuff.”

  “Are you a Mech operator?”

  Clive blanched at the question. “Goodness me, no. I’m a tech geek, not a fighter. If I see a drop of blood I go all queasy.”

  “That must be rough when you oversee the RTCS’s.”

  “Thankfully I’m exempt from helping below. I’ve heard rumours of how clogged up the machines get from all the mutant…” Clive gulped. “Guts and stuff.”

  “Well at least you don’t have to worry about that today. I can’t promise I won’t be sick from all the movement, though.”

  “I’m fine with sick,” Clive shrugged. “Go figure. Can you place your back against the rest please?”

  Andy moved into position and asked permission to secure himself. Clive nodded, happy to just o
bserve and advise. Twenty seconds later the straps were clipped, the gloves were on, and he was dropping the headgear into place. A quick scan of his mind and the machine came to life. System checks flashed across his vision from the integrated heads up display. Hydraulics hissed as pressures were calibrated.

  “Once the cockpit seals, you may feel a bit claustrophobic.”

  “I think I’ll be ok, it’s quite spacious,” Andy replied, looking around.

  “It is spacious, but you won’t be the first to start panicking when the clamps lock the panels into place. When you’re not under physical threat, you can release them all with an emergency command. Out there,” Clive pointed to nowhere in particular, but Andy knew he meant outside the walls, “You’re sealed like a sardine in a can.”

  “That’s an unfortunate analogy. Sardine cans get peeled open and eaten.”

  “You’re right, that was stupid. I’ll work on it.”

  “Is there anything else I need to do?”

  “Nope, you’re good to go. Hold tight while I clear the area and then Captain Bateman will take over the demonstration.”

  “Thanks for your help, Clive.”

  “My pleasure. See you in a while.”

  Hurrying down the steps, Clive gave an order and the cradle pulled them back into the ceiling. Andy stood in his suit six feet off the ground, the open flaps of the face, chest, and legs waiting for a final command. The technicians gathered in the protective booth and Clive gave him a thumbs up.

  “Close,” Andy ordered, and the armoured plates locked into place, cutting off the outside world completely.

  “Release.”

  The stabilisation Mechanism unclasped from the retaining bars on the back of the Mech.

  “Right, you sorry sons of bitches, it’s time to get acquainted with the operation of these fine killing machines. A simple task to get started. I want you to get your arms above your head. Keep them straight and raise them from the front; like an old Romero zombie.”

  The eight Mechs did as ordered, pointing them at the ceiling. Three of the soldiers crashed face first into the concrete as the centre of gravity shifted.

  “Shit!” Bob spat over comms.