Daniel tightened his lips. “And I’m not doing anything until you tell me what’s going on.”
In the background he was aware of screens blinking and people stood poised, some with hands on guns. But Toby raised his hands slowly, before gently clasping them and then rubbing them together. “I think we could all do with a cup of coffee. Private?”
A young, awkward looking soldier nodded and made his way out of the room, everyone visibly relaxing. “general,” said Toby, “what is the ETA?”
The general grunted and made his way back to the table. He looked more comfortable around the map and started to pick up some papers to work his way through. “The command unit shipped out and we’ve moved forty kilometres east. There’s now twenty-five kilometres of nothing between us and that thing. No towns or buildings anywhere in the vicinity; which buys us time. I’ve got a patrol unit reporting in along with air and sat reconnaissance. At the speed it’s moving we reckon four hours, five tops.”
Jones, two of the officers and Daniel all took seats when the coffee arrived. Everyone except Toby, he picked up the mug offered and, after an approving smell of the contents, started to pace around the tent.
“What do we know?” he said, thinking aloud. Everyone around the table glanced at each other but before anyone could answer a man entered the room. He was dressed in a smart suit, in his early forties with neat black hair and a couple of day’s growth on his beard. The deep brown eyes widened as he entered the gloomy tent and they immediately sought out Toby’s.
“Gentlemen, this is my associate Mr Davis,” said Toby, pointing the man to a chair.
“Sorry I’m late.” He sat down and started to rummage through his briefcase.
“Late for what?” said the general, under his breath.
Whether he heard or not, Daniel couldn’t be sure, but Davis spoke after pulling out a document from his case. “In answer to Toby’s question, I believe we know that the object appears to be heading toward our friend here. We also know that none of our conventional land weapons have stopped it, or indeed, had any effect whatsoever. Although, it should be noted, we have yet to deploy an air strike or non-conventional weapon.”
Jones looked up with an easy smile. “You learn fast.”
Davis fixed his gaze back. “Thank-you, Mr?”
“Detective. Jones.”
Davis looked to Toby briefly. “I’m sorry but are you authorised – “
“Detective Jones has kindly agreed to stay here at the request of Daniel,” said Toby.
Davis pushed his fringe back. “I see. Well, moving on, the next step should be transporting Daniel out of harm’s way.”
Toby put down his coffee. “My thoughts exactly. Gentlemen, we have two hours, but we’re going to need longer. We need to get it somewhere we can keep it; somewhere it has no place to go.”
Davis raised his hand; perhaps he felt he was in class. “I had one thought. We could take Daniel down a mine shaft, and when it follows, we blow the shaft entrapping it.”
“Interesting,” said Toby, his voice purring and eyebrows meeting in the middle.
“How would I get out?” said Daniel.
“How about,” the general began, “we put him at the top of a mountain?” He was indicating Daniel, but he too spoke like he wasn’t there. “We could give him food, a tent and a radio while we work this thing out.”
Daniel looked at Toby, who gave a reassuring smile. “I’m sure it would find a way up somehow, general.”
Davis drummed his fingers on the table. “We need to keep it busy; buy ourselves some time.”
The general shrugged. “We can’t control it. We can only keep moving him.” His eyes caught Daniel’s for the first time and Daniel had to look away. “But not for long, maybe only days at a time before it catches up with him.”
“How about greater distances?” said Davis. “We could do coast to coast?”
Toby shook his head. “I don’t think so. The destruction that would incur would be phenomenal. Did you see it walk through the police station? I don’t think anyone would knowingly authorise that. We need to keep the distances manageable so we can make sure nobody is in harm’s way.”
The whole room slouched into silence as they all puzzled over the quandary. Finally, Jones looked all around him. Daniel had noticed he’d been waiting to speak for some time but hadn’t.
“Can it swim?” he said.
Chapter 12
Daniel had never flown before today. Funny, he realised, but he hadn’t ever really done much travelling at all. The last time he had even left town was years ago. He’d gone to college, upstate. But for one reason or another it hadn’t worked out. Looking back, he’d just wanted to get away but then ended up right back where he started.
The thrill of an actual flight was rousing but the jet Toby had ushered them into once they reached the airport was not like anything he had imagined. Leather seats sat lazily around four tables. Desks, laptops and screens lined the walls. What windows there were had the shutters drawn. This was a place of work.
“The most direct route to water will take us straight out to the Gulf of Mexico, over 500 clicks and through several states,” said Toby, casually tracing a finger across a map on one such table. Around him sat Daniel, Detective Jones and Mr Davis. “There’s going to be some damage and a necessary evacuation or two, but we already have a media crisis on our hands anyway.”
Davis was flicking through some emails on his phone, he looked up and regarded everyone; checking he had their attention. “The army are going to escort it through the Southern states and out to the sea. Then, when it’s in the ocean, we fly Daniel to land and plot its projected course.”
“How close will it get to me?” Daniel’s gaze shifted quickly around the table.
“Close,” said Toby. He coughed, covering his mouth and picking up another document.
“How close?”
Toby produced another map. “You’ll be at one end of this airfield on a plane, and it’ll arrive at the other.”
Jones whistled through his teeth. “That’s pretty damn close.”
Toby opened his hands, the sleeves slipping down his upheld arms. “It’s the closest airfield to the sea; we can literally watch it follow you into the ocean. Maybe that will be the end of it?”
Daniel sat back and held his head in in his hands. “Maybe not,” he said, into his lap. The others around the table all shared looks but nobody could offer anything. The shrill din of the jet engines seemed to fill the awkward gap for a moment, but finally Daniel lifted his head up.
“Where are we going?”
“Cuba,” said Toby.
“Cuba?” said Daniel. He looked at Jones who shrugged.
“We estimate you’ll be safe there for approximately-” Toby looked at Davis, “How far is it from Cuba?”
“Four hundred kilometres,” said Davis, his face was still engorged in his laptop. “But the seabed goes up and down so, presuming it walks on the bottom, that will add another fifty kilometres or so.” His gaze returned to the group. “At five kilometres an hour that’s 100 hours, a little over four days. That’s if it can walk under water as fast as it can on land, which is unlikely. But also, that’s if it can actually go into water. So far we’ve seen it go through a river and a reservoir, but that’s it. With the ocean it has a lot more pressure to deal with and, of course, salinity.”
“What if it can swim?” said Daniel.
“Doubtful,” said Toby. “Whatever it’s made of must be extremely dense, and the size of it means there isn’t enough air inside to make it buoyant.” He looked across the table at Daniel. “Try to relax, Daniel, we’ve bought ourselves some time.”
They landed after thirty minutes or so at the airport by the coast, the last stop before Cuba. The army was already there, waiting on the runway. Toby told them they had a couple of days before the robot was going to arrive.
Apart from the airfield there was nothing much else around. A motel had b
een commissioned by the army and Daniel and Jones both got offered a room. Toby advised them to share as it was probably not best for him to be alone. He grudgingly accepted, though secretly was glad the detective would be around.
It had been nearly twenty-four hours now since the robot had walked through Daniel’s office and sent him running. Suddenly he felt immensely tired and as soon as they got to the room he collapsed onto the bed and fell into a deep sleep. He couldn’t remember what he was dreaming about but he woke up with a shout at the back of his throat.
He blinked his eyes. It was daytime outside; the curtains were half drawn. Jones was sat on the bed next to him, fully clothed and reading a newspaper.
“Good morning,” he said.
“What time is it?” asked Daniel.
“It’s 10am.”
“What day?”
Jones raised an eyebrow, “Sunday.”
Daniel turned his face back down to the bed sheets. “How long have we got?”
“Toby is going to stop by in about an hour. I asked that you be left to sleep.” Jones returned to his paper.
Daniel sighed and rolled onto his side. The sun was already high in the sky. They were in the middle of nowhere but through the walls and windows he could hear the shouts of soldiers and the rumble of trucks.
Jones turned the page and Daniel caught a glimpse of the headline – ‘Machine Attacks Northern States – Terrorists Suspected.’ Jones saw him looking and closed the paper before deliberately putting it onto the table next to his bed.
“How you doing?” he asked.
Daniel sat up and ran his fingers through his hair. “Okay, I guess.”
“Listen, whatever happens, whatever they come up with,” he nodded toward the door, “you’re going to be alright. Got me?”
He shifted on the bed. “I guess.”
Jones stood up and went to the window. He put his hands in his pockets and rattled the change there.
“Thing’s travelling too damned slow anyway. It’s never going to catch you.” He peered outside where something had caught his attention. “And these guys here? I think you can trust them; they seem pretty straight up.”
“Thanks,” said Daniel.
“Don’t mention it,” said Jones. He turned around and raised a smile.
“No, I mean for coming here with me.” Daniel smiled back.
Jones sat down again, still fidgeting. “I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. And anyway, officially at least, you’re still in my custody.”
He was an imposing man, but had a softness that made Daniel feel protected. Thinking about it, he figured Detective Jones was about the only thing in his life he could rely on at the moment and he’d only known him two days. But how long would he be around for? At some point he’d have to go back to his life.
“You married?” asked Daniel.
“Nope. Not the type. You?”
“No. But I am the type. I mean, I want to be the type. I just…”
“Need to find the right girl?” said Jones.
“No, I’ve found the right girl. I just haven’t asked her.”
Jones narrowed his eyes. “I see. Well, maybe when all this is over we can do something about that. You’ll have one hell of an opening line.”
They shared a scoff before Jones went over to turn on the television. The first thing they saw was the robot, walking through fields. Tanks, helicopters and pandemonium all around it. Jones flicked through the channels, but nearly all of them were the same; live footage, an in-studio debate, a panel of ‘experts.’ Jones turned it off.
“I’m scared,” said Daniel.
“I reckon a lot of people are.” Jones sat down on the edge of his bed, directly opposite Daniel. The last time the two had faced each other like this was back at the police station. It looked like Jones was ready to carry on the interrogation.
“Why do you think it’s following you?”
“I have absolutely no idea.” Just saying it made Daniel’s head sag.
“Something has to be the key. Maybe you have something it wants, or needs?”
“I don’t own anything of value,” said Daniel.
“What about your family?”
“I don’t really have any.”
“Close friends?”
“I don’t really have any.”
“I’m sorry, Daniel.” Jones looked at himself before getting up off the bed.
A chopper buzzed over the roof of the motel. The lamps on the bedside tables rattled. Jones went to the window and stood looking out, his fists clenching and unclenching. This is really getting to him, thought Daniel. He needs to be able to solve problems.
“Is there anything you may have that it wants? Something you’ve come into possession of lately, something you’re looking after for someone?” Jones had turned around, his eyes combing for explanations.
Daniel gave a curious look, his eyes, rolling back into his memory and pulling something from the roller decks.
“Well,” he said, “it’s funny you should mention that. Recently my great aunt died; she lived in Peru and something arrived in the post last week.”
“Go on,” said Jones.
“It was a statue, said to be one of the ancient gods – ‘Makara.’ He was the god of the moon and stars who came down to earth to seek a chosen one.”
“My god that’s it!” Jones snapped his fingers. “Why didn’t you mention this before? Where is the statue now? Do you have it with you?”
Daniel smiled before, not being able to hold it in any longer, breaking into laughter.
“That isn’t funny,” said Jones.
Daniel laughed more, Jones chuckled too. They both felt better. “I’m sorry,” said Daniel.
Jones looked sideways at Daniel and stroked his face. They were both tired. “Inca statue. Man, I bet you don’t even have an aunt.”
“No, I don’t. But it was good to see you handling a lead.” They both chuckled again, maybe it was the pressure escaping but it felt good.
The door knocked and Toby let himself in, looking puzzled at the chuckling faces. “Gentlemen?”
Daniel stood up and stretched before Jones spoke, “Any news?”
“We’ve got about 12 hours before we need to head off.”
“It’s not stopping?” said Jones.
“No. But once we’re in Cuba we’ll have plenty of time to look at our options. The Vice President is going to meet us there and he’s been given the power to make an executive decision if required.”
“An executive decision?” said Jones.
Toby clearly didn’t have much time for Jones and regarded him with a look before again catching Daniel’s gaze. It was almost as if he was asking for Daniel’s permission to have him dismissed. But Daniel had made it clear he was only going to cooperate with Jones around.
Toby ignored the question and left it hanging in the air. “If we have to we can always fly you back to Florida to take some more time. You’ll be looked after.”
“Back to Florida?” said Daniel. “Then what? What if you can’t stop it?”
“You would then go back to Cuba. Or maybe we could buy you a month or two and fly you to Europe? You’ll be safe and that’s the most important thing right now.”
“Europe?”
Toby sighed. “This is all just theory right now but our closest estimates, taking into account the Atlantic trench, are that you could stay in Europe for at least fifty-three days before it reached the coast of Spain. After that, we could potentially fly you back to the States.”
“This all sounds a bit defeatist,” said Daniel.
Toby held up those manicured hands again, the soft white palms trying to soothe Daniel. “It’s just a list of options. Trust me. We’ll figure a way to stop this thing.”
Daniel went to the bathroom and started to run the tap, it was so small he was still mostly stood in the hotel room itself. “Really? Tanks didn’t work. Or missiles or planes too I hear?”
He splashe
d water on his face, leaned back up and looked in the mirror. One hand ran down his face wiping away the moisture.
“Why not just nuke it?” he said.
“Daniel,” said Jones, “try to stay calm. He’s just trying to help.”
“It’s okay, detective,” said Toby. He looked at Daniel again, his face suddenly more serious. “I don’t have the authority to make that kind of decision right now. But I assure you, if we do decide to spend the best part of one hundred million dollars to ‘just nuke it,’ you’ll be the first to know.”
Daniel swallowed, his stomach shrank and he looked down at the floor.
“We need to understand this thing,” continued Toby, “we have to find out as much about it before we can act…and we will act.”
Chapter 13
The plan had been a success. Daniel had waited in the aeroplane at the end of the runway until literally the last minute; apparently the robot had been about a quarter of a mile away. Toby had judged that close enough and they had taken off. Twenty minutes later, over the Gulf of Mexico, they’d been informed by Davis that the robot had entered the ocean and was following.
Daniel visibly sank in his seat at the news. Part of him had hoped it would stop, blow up or float out to sea. Again and again he tried to rationalise what this thing could want. Again and again he found himself with no answers.
They’d touched down in Cuba not long after and been driven to another compound. This time there were definite signs of where they were. The lookout towers of Guantanamo bay bobbed up and down the length of the border with Cuba and armed guards patrolled the walls. It struck Daniel as odd that this place even existed. He thought of the people who had been imprisoned during the war on terror, perhaps some were still here.
They were ushered through large mechanical gates which eased back with a loud buzz and as they entered a warm wind blew in off the sea over their faces. Toby led them inside, flashing his credentials whenever required; Daniel still hadn’t seen them himself. Finally, they reached a nondescript looking meeting room. With its projector, pine laminate table and chairs it could have been one of the GBP offices from back home. Except sat at this table was the Vice-President, John Parry.
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