Saving 1641

by Robert Jay Dilger

  “It’s always an emergency,” Conor answered, straightening Alex’s bed sheets. “Tell him that Alex can’t be moved.”

  “I don’t have time for this,” the cadet stated angrily. “Justice Brandix told me to tell you that you are both needed up in the command center right now. So, move it!”

  “I like your style,” Alex stated to the cadet. “Would you be kind enough to help me with this restraint harness?”

  Conor raised his hand, motioning for the cadet to stay away.

  “You heard the young man,” Alex stated to Conor. “We are needed up in the command center. Get me out of this bed.”

  Conor reluctantly unbuckled the restraint harness.

  “Alright!” Alex exclaimed as he sat up, stretched his arms out wide, and started to stand up.

  Alex fell back into the bed.

  “Tell him that we are on our way,” Conor told the cadet, helping Alex to his feet. “He needs a few minutes to get his land legs back. He will be fine.”

  Tapping Alex on the arm, the cadet said, “You don’t look so good.”

  “Thanks for that, cadet Cornett,” Alex stated, reading the cadet’s name tag. “I will remember that crack later.”

  The cadet snapped to military attention and said, “Sorry. No offense intended.”

  Alex waved the cadet away and replied, “None taken. Tell Justice Brandix that we will be there shortly.”

  “I’m supposed to bring you,” the cadet answered, refusing to leave without them.

  “Go on,” Conor stated. “Do as he said. Tell Justice Brandix that we will be there shortly.”

  The cadet paused and then announced, “Okay, but you had better get up there in a hurry. He is very anxious to see you.”

  The cadet left the room and ran down the hallway toward the command center. As soon as he was out the door Alex tried to take a step, but his legs buckled beneath him. He would have fallen to the floor if Conor had not been there to catch him.

  “Here,” Lucy stated, handing Alex two energy bars. “This is all that I have left, but they should help some.”

  “Thanks,” he answered, taking a bite out of one of the bars and handing the other one back to her. “Save this one for yourself. Or, better yet, give it to that young lady over there when she wakes up.”

  Taking the energy bar back, Lucy turned her attention to the young cadet now strapped securely in her medical bed. The medical kit had fallen to the floor, but was still functioning.

  “Remember,” Lucy stated over her shoulder to Alex. “Now that you are no longer tethered to the medical kit the microbots in your bloodstream are working without backup. If you start to feel dizzy, get medical attention right away. And remember not to lift anything heavy, especially with your right arm. It’s not fully healed yet.”

  “Will do,” Alex answered as he tried to stand up.

  “I got you,” Conor stated as Alex’s legs began to wobble.

  “That is better,” Alex said smiling. “Thanks.”

  “No problem,” Conor answered.

  “Hopefully,” Alex continued. “I will be able to walk on my own by the time we reach the command center. Let’s go see what Brandix is so excited about.”

  The command center was actually a small suite of offices with a large reception area in the middle. It was a total mess. Paper littered the carpeted floor, several chairs were upended, and a desk was leaning heavily onto its side, one of its legs cracked in half. No one paid any attention to them as they stood at the entrance to the room. Most of the cadets were staring intently at a large viewing screen hung high up on a wall. It showed a panoramic view of Emory Boulevard. Two combat robots and about 100 armed guards and assault commandos were headed in their direction. The other cadets were racing across the room from desk-to-desk, each shouting orders into old-fashioned, short-range voice modulators. One of the cadets tripped over an overturned trash disposal device and fell to the floor, sending his modulator flying across the room. A miniature, two-tailed, reptilian Bost-dog with shaggy red hair and luminous, bright blue eyes jumped out from underneath an old wooden desk, yelping loudly as it leapt across the room. The dog playfully grabbed the modulator in its mouth and ran off with it. The cadet lifted himself off of the floor and chased the dog around the room, trying to retrieve the modulator. Just then, a very young cadet, no more than 14 or 15 years old, excused herself as she brushed past Alex and entered the room, a tall pile of papers held tightly in her arms. The Bost-dog ran straight into her, sending her sprawling to the floor and her papers flying across the room. At the other side of the reception area two cadets were shouting profanities at each other.

  “Now this is precisely what I expected,” Alex announced sarcastically to Conor. “Discipline, organization, and strict military decorum.”

  “We’re in a whole lot of trouble, aren’t we?” Conor asked.

  “I suppose that it could be worse,” Alex answered. “But it’s hard to imagine how.”

  “Let me take care of this,” Conor announced. “Kristi has been teaching me how to project my voice.”

  Leaning back, Conor let out a loud, terrifying roar. Everyone in the room came to a complete and sudden standstill.

  “That’s better!” Conor announced in a commanding voice. “Now that we have your attention, where’s Justice Brandix?”

  A door opened at the far side of the room.

  “Back here,” Brandix called out.

  Conor walked across the still silent and motionless room toward Brandix. Alex followed close behind.

  “Back to work!” Brandix shouted. “Don’t worry. They are on our side.”

  The cadets started to move once again, but each of them kept a wary eye on Conor until he was out of sight. Once inside his office, Brandix positioned himself in front of a large computer screen.

  “Take a look at this,” he stated, pointing at the screen.

  Two giant combat robots, smoke billowing from their missile launch tubes, were headed in their direction.

  “I don’t know how many missiles that they have, but those first two shots killed over a dozen of my cadets manning the outer defense perimeter,” he continued. “The robots are headed straight for the command center. I don’t know how long we can hold out against those brutes. Any ideas would be greatly appreciated. We are running out of time.”

  “Do you have any missile launchers or laser cannons?” Alex asked.

  “No,” Brandix answered, swiveling around in his chair to face the two of them. “We don’t have any heavy weaponry at all, just laser pistols and a few laser rifles.”

  “No heavy weapons at all?” Alex asked in the faint hope that he hadn’t heard him right the first time.

  “None,” he answered. “We set up a few dummy weapons and holograms that look like missile launchers from a distance. That is what’s been keeping them off of us this long. I started with 52 cadets and 14 security guards. I’m now down to 38 cadets and 10 security guards.”

  “Thirty-eight wet-behind-the-ears cadets and 10 security guards,” Alex repeated out loud as he paced across the room.

  “That’s it,” Brandix stated, turning his attention once again to the computer screen and the combat robots that were still headed in their direction. “We would make a run for it, but those robots would cut us down in an instant. Any ideas?”

  “How are those robots controlled?” Conor interrupted.

  Brandix turned his attention to Conor and did his best to size him up.

  “Don’t let his youth fool you,” Alex stated. “This young man will astonish you.”

  “I have seen some of his tricks,” he answered, remembering what Conor did to the cadets in the storage room and having just heard his voice projection.

  “They are not tricks,” Conor stated, pointing his right index finger toward the computer screen. “How are they controlled?”

  “Old-fashioned radio waves,” he answered. “Those are the only frequencies that are still operative.”

&
nbsp; “Ever try it before?” Alex asked, guessing at what Conor was about to suggest.

  “No,” Conor answered, staring at the computer screen.

  “Try what?” Brandix asked.

  “He can project thoughts as well as sounds,” Alex stated.

  “You’re going to try to send it radio commands by thought projection?” Brandix asked, obviously not convinced that it would work.

  “Yes, but I will have to get real close to them,” Conor stated.

  “I can arrange that,” a young voice announced from the doorway.

  Conor turned around and found himself face-to-face with a tall, young cadet, her shiny black hair knotted into a tight ponytail.

  “There is a series of interconnected garages that wrap around the eastern half of the factory complex,” she continued. “The garage doors don’t offer much cover, but if you stay low, no one can see you. The garage door windows are well above ground level and they have all been blackened.”

  “Who are you and what do you want?” Brandix asked in a commanding tone of voice.

  The young cadet came to attention, saluted, and announced, “Jonnelle Carter, Sir. Fourth-year cadet. I was told to deliver this to you.”

  She held out a data pad.

  “Thank you,” Brandix stated, taking the data pad. “Now, what about those garages?”

  “Doreen, I mean fourth-year cadet Dunn, asked me to secure the garages this morning,” Jonnelle stated, still standing at attention. “I moved equipment against the garage doors, blackened the windows, and changed all the security codes. As I said, we could sneak up on the robots using those garages. No one would see us.”

  Turning toward Conor, Brandix stated, “Why don’t you go with this young lady and see if you can put your plan into operation. In the meantime, Alex and I will remain here and figure out what to do should you fail.”

  “We won’t!” Jonnelle blurted out.

  “I certainly hope not,” Brandix stated, waving them off. “Go on, there’s no time for conversation. The time has come to act.”

  Jonnelle led the way out of the command center and toward the garages. She raced down the corridor, Conor following right behind her, her ponytail bouncing from shoulder-to-shoulder.

  “The first garage is right around this corner,” she announced without looking back.

  An old, metal door separated the main building from the garages. Jonnelle punched in the passcode sequence to open the door’s locking mechanism. The door was painted black, but had worn smooth at the edges, exposing the metal beneath. A sign on the door was marked in large, capital letters: “Fire Door, Keep Door Closed At All Times, Violators Will Be Prosecuted.”

  A clicking noise signaled that the passcodes worked. Jonnelle leaned into the door and pushed it open. Conor followed her into the first garage. It was hard to see anything because power to the overhead lights had been turned off. The only light available came from their wrist lamps. Jonnelle shined the light from her wrist lamp across the room. The garage floor was littered with old, rusting hovercraft spare parts. Several very old, solar-powered ground trucks were parked tightly in a row across the back half of the garage. The trucks looked like they had not been moved in decades. Cobwebs extended from truck-to-truck, rust cutting inexorably through their metal frames. Jonnelle led the way across the garage, heading for the door on the other side. As she crossed the garage, she almost tripped over an old rubberized tube on the floor.

  “Watch your step,” she called out. “This place is a real mess.”

  Jonnelle brushed away a strand of web that blocked her path. The strand ran from the front end of an old truck all the way to the garage doors. She shuttered at the thought of how large the spider was that had spun the web.

  “We still have four more garages to cross,” she continued, trying not to think about the spider. “Those robots should be right in front of us by the time we get there.”

  The next garage looked precisely like the one before it, except that the ground trucks parked there were in even worse condition than the ones in the first garage. Several of them were missing doors and other parts, as if they had been picked apart for salvage. Jonnelle raced across the garage floor, the beam of light from her wrist lamp crisscrossing in front of them. As soon as she reached the second doorway she punched in the passcodes on its entrance pad and waited for the clicking sound. Nothing happened. She punched in the code sequence again and waited. Nothing.

  “Now what?” she cried out, punching the door with the inside of her right fist. “Open up!”

  Conor crowded up beside her.

  “It’s jammed!” Jonnelle shouted, hitting the door again. “I don’t believe it. It opened this morning.”

  “Step back,” Conor stated calmly. “I can open it.”

  “There’s nothing you can do,” she stated in despair. “Let me use my laser pistol.”

  “That is not necessary,” Conor stated, focusing on the door.

  The door let out a soft crackling noise, and opened.

  “How did you do that?” Jonnelle asked.

  “No time to explain it now,” Conor announced, stepping into the next garage.

  The third garage’s exterior doors exploded, sending Conor flying through the air. He landed against the far wall, banging his head against the concrete. The smoke and stench of a concussion bomb assaulted his senses. He could not see a thing through the smoke, but he knew that Jonnelle was hurt. He could hear her moaning. Fortunately, she was still in the second garage when the concussion bomb hit. Otherwise, she could have been killed. Reaching out with his senses, he expected to detect armed guards storming the factory. Instead, he sensed something, but he wasn’t quite sure what it was. It wasn’t organic, but there was definitely something there.

  “The combat robots,” Conor admonished himself. “I should have known. They couldn’t see us through the garage doors, but they could detect our infrared images. Our body heat gave us away.”

  They were still a good distance away, but he knew that they had zeroed in on him.

  “This is it,” Conor thought. “Now or never.”

  Conor focused on the two robots, urging them to stop. Nothing happened.

  “Maybe they are still out of range,” Conor thought. “Come on, keep coming.”

  The two combat robots continued moving forward, their heavy metal legs leaving small indentations in the pavement as they strode down the Boulevard toward the factory. Another concussion bomb slid into a firing chamber below the lead robot’s right armpit. Once again, Conor focused on the two robots, urging them to stop. Again, nothing happened.

  “This isn’t working,” Conor thought.

  The lead combat robot’s eyes glowed just a little brighter as another concussion bomb shot across the pavement straight at Conor. The robot’s emotionless face seemed to lighten up just a little, almost like it was smiling, as the bomb headed straight at its intended target. Focusing on the bomb, Conor sent it flying back at the lead robot. It raised its left arm in a protective reflex, but it was too late. The bomb hit the combat robot right between the eyes. The robot’s laser shield diffused most of the bomb’s explosive force, but the shock wave was so powerful that it knocked the robot backward and it lost its footing. Toppling over, the combat robot pounded the pavement with its right leg repeatedly as it attempted to regain its feet.

  “Down, but not out,” Conor thought, looking around the garage for anything that could be used as a weapon. Just then, a loud explosion shook the entire garage. Expecting the worst, Conor activated his levitation shield, making sure to cover both himself and Jonnelle.

  “The second combat robot,” Conor thought.

  The shaking stopped. To his surprise, the garage was still intact. A huge cloud of dust and dirt lingered in the air just outside of the garage doors. As the dust began to settle, he saw the lead robot. It was still on its back, struggling to regain its feet. But its right arm was missing, one of its legs was damaged, and it was leaking hy
draulic fluid all over the Boulevard. The second robot was nowhere to be seen. There was a huge crater where it had been standing. Reaching out with his senses, he felt the presence of more than 100 armed guards and ground assault commandos racing toward him and more than 200 armed guards and ground assault commandos headed in the other direction. He reached out beyond them and felt the presence of Anne’s forces and a still-smoking missile launcher about 10 blocks away. Reaching out still further, his heart skipped a beat. It was Kathryn. Just then, a second explosion rocked the garage, sending the garage’s roof crashing to the floor. His levitation shield held as roof fragments fell harmlessly all around him to the garage floor. He looked over to make sure that Jonnelle was okay. She was unconscious, but breathing. Turning his attention back to the Boulevard, the lead robot was now gone, replaced by a huge crater and a rising cloud of dirt, dust, and debris.

  Chapter 31

  THE END-AROUND

  He tried to get his bearings. A small sign over a restaurant’s front door indicated that he was at 2203 Scrafford Avenue.

  “How did I end up here?” he wondered, embarrassed that he had gotten himself lost. “I’m never going to hear the end to this. Anne is going to kill me.”

  Just then, a voice called out from behind him, “Hurry up! We’re late. We’re going to miss the whole thing.”

  Five young men, dressed in civilian clothing, appeared from around a corner. They were walking in the middle of the street and headed straight at him. He was about to call out to them when he noticed a young woman moving in the shadows in the alley across the street. She was pointing a laser assault rifle at the young men.

  “Come on Ian!” one of the young men shouted. “You’re holding up the whole show. If we don’t get into the fight, we won’t get paid.”

  “I’m not the one who got us lost!” Ian shouted back angrily.

  “Sure,” the young man answered. “Blame it on me. Everything is always Brandon’s fault.”

  “You are all going to be dead if you don’t shut up,” the young woman called out from the shadows.