by Tobias Roote
The console exploded as the double tap of explosive rounds shot into the unit killing it completely. Smoke erupted as the damage shorted live connections. Pinner immediately put up his hands to protect his eyes as fragments of screen flew into his face. When he pulled them away they had blood on them. The pain hit a second later causing him to yelp.
“Agh!... umh!... I wasn’t really doing anything. Just trying to access the monitors to see what was going on in the civilian sector,” the Captain replied hesitantly, trying to distract the mercenary from considering anything more dangerous.
Wilkes walked up and stuck his face in close to Pinner’s. The man’s demeanour was aggressive and violent. Luckily for Pinner his self control was stronger than the desire to beat him to a pulp. The mercenary made sure that he got the message loud and clear as he grabbed him by the throat and threw him backwards off the chair to the deck.
“If I wasn’t sure you might be needed you’d be dead right now.” He slammed him with the rifle butt and kicked him in the kidneys. He gestured with his rifle as Pinner went to get up. “Get against the wall.” Wilkes jabbed him in the chest with the butt again, forcing Pinner towards the bulkhead. Wilkes was aware he had no authorisation to kill the bridge crew, but that wouldn’t stop him from doing so if he felt they were a threat. He felt they weren’t needed now with the computer in charge and didn’t know why XeraC was keeping them alive. “Do not kill any of them,” the man had said earlier through the encrypted comms unit they all had.
“All of you - Now! Up against the walls away from your consoles,” he yelled as he stood over Pinner pointing the business end at his head. Platt and one of the others shoved the bridge crew, using the butts of their rifles freely in ensuring a speedy compliance. The ICO, Internal Communications Officer, Judith Ferrigan tried to backhand Platt in a moment of bravado, but the sickening crunch of his rifle as he swung it round to connect it with her jaw, put her out like a light. She collapsed on the floor and one of the other crew dragged her to the bulkhead out of Platt’s angry reach.
Pinner felt guilty when he saw Judith go down. His job was to protect his crew and here they were being violently manhandled and attacked because of him. He drew strength from the thought they might have a resolution to their situation soon. His attention was dragged back by Wilkes poking him in the face with the rifle barrel.
“Any more trouble from you, and I will shoot everyone in here,” he said menacingly to Pinner, who had no doubt the man could, and probably would, do exactly what he threatened. They were a long way from any outside help. Except for ‘Ashby’.
The Captain settled down to wait. He picked out pieces of shrapnel from his cheek.
He looked over at Duffy who raised his eyebrows questioningly. He nodded carefully, making it look as though he was adjusting his neck position. The eyebrow query went away to be replaced with a look of concern for Pinner, blood still trickling down onto his uniform shirt. He nodded again letting him know he was okay. It looked worse than it was, he thought. He looked away to divert attention away from their non-verbal conversation. Duffy knew what he had done. They would be ready.
***
Sedal watching through his monitors, observed the conversation between the leader of the mercenaries and XeraC. He couldn’t intercept the other end of the conversation as it was on a private frequency and encrypted. He listened to one half of the conversation while continuing to monitor the activities of the CCC.
When the typed command was entered from the Captain’s console to activate ‘Protocol Ashby’; a subroutine stored deep within his massive banks of memory activated immediately sending an alert to a number of comm units, and ordering them to standby. Sedal didn’t have to do a thing as these routines were all pre-coded and laid down in his sub-systems. As such they required no action on his part. It wasn’t necessary, but he put a tab on its progress and returned to monitoring the Command Centre.
When Pinner keyed in the mission objective in the CCC, it was passed directly to the units designated, activating the protocol. As the Captain finalised the mission, the one called Wilkes opened fire on the computer console, disabling it. A ricochet also took out the bulkhead camera behind, reducing Sedal’s vision of the centre. He despatched maintenance nanites to the area to carry out repairs. Within half an hour it would be working again.
Meanwhile, focusing through an adjacent camera, Sedal caught the look between Pinner and Dumfries. The human subtleties in communication were amazing, he thought. He memorised the facial action for the future. He had observed the one called Scott’s fast reflexes, probably due to the militaristic training he had undoubtedly received. The human’s bearing was one used to being in command.
His attention was soon diverted to the external cameras which now showed them hovering over the west coast of Africa at twenty five thousand feet. The ARK would soon be over the Atlantic where it would be out of range of alien attack in the short term. Sedal and the other AIs had ascertained that the enemy would have some means to reduce oceans and seas to nothing if their eradication programme included all biological life wherever it existed. The seas below would be boiled off, or rendered inert and incapable of supporting any life if the Nubl were as determinedly efficient as the Jenari history they had shared indicated.
The ARK project was designed to overcome even this in the long term. However, the AI population had deep concerns as to the efficacy of trying to bring the Earth back from the dead after the Nubl had finished their programmed extinction. There were better options than waiting for hundreds of years to re-populate the planet below. The problem was the humans felt they were in command of their own destinies, which in fact they were. The AIs served their needs. They did as they were bid, their counsel often ignored because AIs lacked experience of the ‘real’ world.
Sedal thought they were naive and illogical, but would continue to serve them. The current circumstances whereby Osbourne had left him with the responsibility of completing the mission meant he had to make decisions for the population of the sphere and not concern himself over the individual lives of the crew. They were superfluous and, as a result, Sedal felt no need to assist in any rescue. That didn’t mean he would ignore the efforts of the crew to survive the human mercenaries and save themselves.
XeraC realised something had occurred when the Captain accessed the screen on his console, but he didn’t have access to the details. Instead he tracked responses as they left Sedal’s protected area and monitored as they flew across the public network to ten individual comms units. His ability to follow multiple activities meant he was in a position to simultaneously watch all ten recipients as they dropped their existing tasks, and ran to a rendezvous point at a junction on level two.
The junction was positioned just before the supply sector that led to all areas of the habitat and was largely unused. As most pedestrian traffic tended to use the level one route, they were alone. They gathered quietly and efficiently. XeraC, immediately recognising military responses in their practiced moves and actions, guessed correctly that he was observing a pre-determined secret task force being activated. Whilst he didn’t know their objective, he could guess it was the CCC, so set software bots to monitor all the cameras and listening posts across the junction expecting to hear details he could pass on to Platt.
As the soldiers came together in the dimly lit corridor, one of them turned excitedly to the tall American-Irish man who was their leader. They weren’t confirmed ‘on mission’ yet, so he could get away with a chatty opener. “It’s confirmed then, Paddy - an ‘Ashby’?” he said, as he looked around at the others. He knew them all and nodded at one or two.
“Yes, Carl, we have an ‘active mission’ apparently, we need to get to the Armoury,” Lieutenant Patrick ‘Paddy’ Crisp told them quietly keeping his voice subdued. “No discussion until we can CRYPTALK.” This was an encrypted talk and listen device designed secretly for the Special Forces that allowed them to conduct localised chat without being overheard. T
he use of a unique blend of white noise and voice encryption ensured that neither local, or intercepted communications could be heard, or understood by the enemy. It was miles ahead of the kit being used by XeraC’s mercenaries. XeraC picked up the words from lip reading and smiled maliciously.
The men knew that activation of ‘Ashby Protocol’ meant that the ARK was compromised and this could include communications, so they proceded silently. The fact the CCC was their target meant that anything could be happening between them and the Command Centre. They had to be swift and they needed to be 100% successful. They were all aware the ARK was active and in flight-mode, but beyond that they had no knowledge of the internal situation. It would remain that way until they had either completed ‘Ashby’, or been stood down.
The jog took them ten minutes as the armoury by necessity was maintained away from the civilian population. It wasn’t off-limits, just not advertised and when they arrived at the anonymous looking unit, the metal door looked no different to any of the others. The lieutenant used his fingers against the rock wall to search out the proper pattern. He depressed all four fingers and a plate popped out. He placed his hand on it as it read his hand print and other bio readings.
XeraC had been watching and was astonished. The room was on his system as unused, and he appeared not to have any security access. There was no armoury indicated on his three dimensional map in his virtual office. The unit was supposed to be empty. How many other surprises were there that he was unaware of, he wondered. He could only watch the men enter the room from the nearest camera down the corridor length and that was forty feet away. He could neither hear much nor see much and lip reading was impossible.
Inside the room the ten men set about arming themselves. They knew that ‘Ashby’ meant the ARK was under threat by terrorist attack and the location given as the CCC meant that either the Command Centre was down, or under attack. In either case the assumption was that to have got there the computers and AI’s would have been compromised. Hence the ‘no discussion’ order and the reason why the armoury and its security were kept independent from all, but the Captain, XO and the Special Forces team.
They immediately went to their designated lockers, allocated at the beginning of the ARK project. Their skills had been utilised many times during its construction to keep out infiltrators, thieves and spies. They quickly kitted themselves out in their military fatigues. A patch showing a sphere with a lightning flash on the shoulder of their uniform denoted their special unit. They each checked and then inserted their military-spec shield generators to their waist-belt
The lieutenant selected the MX41-MG, a combined automatic flechette, and heavy duty MAG-round rifle, its stubby shape lent itself to close-in combat and would serve well in the corridors of the ARK. Its accuracy was great to fifty feet, after that it slipped to a terrible spread at twice the distance. As most of their work would be close-quarter engagements he anticipated no trouble with the weapon. It also had a grenade launcher with a rack. These grenades were small and just as lethal as the old military types, but you could easily hold three in one hand and throw. The others selected the same set-up, with the exception of Jenny Punto who pulled out a heavy duty laser that had to be strapped to the shoulder to be wielded effectively. Jenny was their heavy tech specialist, and her size meant she could heft anything they needed, and some. Nobody, with no exclusions, ever messed with Private Punto. In real life she was the manageress of the local stores and spent a lot of time in the gym.
They all had their earpieces and pin-mikes that activated with a chip embedded in their heads as soon as they inserted them in their preferred ear. All communication was now through these, even when standing next to each other. The noise cancelling software ensured total silence. They were trained to manage the five channels that the sets utilised by mentally sending commands to the chip in their heads. It was second nature for them and meant they could walk amongst the enemy and talk normally without being overheard.
Within ten minutes, with all weapons checked and their personal additions all placed into pocket, or hung on their belts, the team was ready. It was time to begin their tactical countdown. The lieutenant pulled out a console with touchpad and input his personal codes.
A screen appeared in the space between them, a hologram showing their location and the destination. A few keystrokes by the lieutenant and two separate routes showed to the destination marked ‘A’ and ‘B’, the scenario already built into the tactical memory. They would now enact it as rehearsed.
“Phillips, you take Alpha Team and take the ‘A’ route - we’ll take ‘B’ and go over the top. Get into position and report what you see.”
“OK, boss, I’m on it. 'A' team, with me. See you on the other side.” He nodded at his boss and close friend, Paddy. He was grinning like a schoolkid. Action always brought out the worst in him and he loved it. If he had gone the length of this mission with no action at all, he would have died an unhappy man.
As they scooted down the corridor Terry ‘Tez’ Phillips noticed the camera moving and watching them. He knew that shouldn’t be happening as the corridor was not on the standard monitoring circuits. Someone must be manually controlling the cameras.
“We have eyes.” He mouthed into his mike, warning all of them that the monitoring system was compromised. Team ‘B’ was also in the loop, the headset’s range, although marked down as five miles, in practice was only good for two, especially underground.
The team sped on, their route was to take them through the same tunnels the mercenaries had probably entered. They had a secret weapon though, designed by the ARK security teams for just this purpose. A local nullifier that allowed them to switch the repeller system on and off locally as they swept through the tunnel, it had a range of fifty feet. They only had to watch out for vehicles traversing the link to the CCC, and that would be highly unlikely in the circumstances.
It would take them half an hour to reach the end of the tunnel if there were no forces between them and the CCC. In Phillip’s personal opinion the threat had to be small, so they probably wouldn’t have left anyone behind as lookout, but he and his team remained diligent especially as the cameras were still following them. He assumed by that, they weren't going to be a surprise, but that was always built into the probability, which was why they had team 'B' and route ‘B’.
***
ARK 1 - To Stay or Go
Meanwhile, Mike and Penny arrived at the AG bunker where he thumbed the door lock gaining access on his print. As it opened to welcome him, the lights inside came on showing their fleet of ten AGs and two shuttles laid out in a neat orderly row.
He took the nearest sled and they buckled in. It was unlikely to be a rough ride, but military regulations meant you had to be ready for anything.
As they flew out of the hangar, Mike decided to make their first stop the town square. There was a gathering there where a large screen hung and provided a communal place to meet. An outside coffee shop had been included and was paid for out of a token currency which allowed the owner to buy supplies and pay costs without having to exchange chickens and baskets of groceries. A barter system was fine, but bulky and limited to only being able to take account of what was on offer each day, which might not work out for everyone.
There was quite a crowd down there. It was typical, he thought, that people would want to share bad news rather than hide away in their houses. These houses were all designed around the need to keep everyone ‘included and up-to-date’ and so had all mod cons which allowed work to be fitted into the daily routine, so it suited everyone.
Agricultural workers were all around the outer edges, those who worked in the underground areas were loosely laid out around the middle, while the staff who represented the tech-crew were kept close to the centre for quick access to the Tower and the engine caverns. Everything was operated on a shift basis, so fully a third of the citizens of ARK1 were underground working at any time.
Mike set the AG down on th
e park area next to the cafe and as he got out he was met by the Mayor, Eric Templebaum, rushing towards them. He looked distinctly disturbed.
“Mr Patterson, I’m so glad you’re here. We have a situation building that I’m not happy with.” He wrung his hands in distress, and not for the first time Mike wondered how this man had got elected to the citizen leadership. Totallly unsuited to the task of managing people, he was constantly looking to Mike to resolve civil matters that should be resolved by his own office.
“What is it this time, Eric?” he asked, not bothering to hide his impatience.
“It’s them, they want to go back and rescue other people, they say that if they cannot help defend them, they can at least bring some into the safety of the ARK.”
As they walked closer to the gathering, Mike noted the presence of Jennifer Alcott, a latecomer to the ARK and who was responsible for much of the dissent within the community. He sighed, wherever she was, it was sure to be heated. He had excuse to talk to her on several occasions. Her manner with the bridge crew and security teams had been bordering on deliberate obstruction on several occasions.
As they approached they could hear her strident tones. “We cannot sit here doing nothing while people out there need help. We have a responsibility – “
“Excuse me, Ms Alcott, but do you think you could stop your ranting for a moment?” Mike called to her as he approached, giving her time to turn to him and confront him instead of the crowd she was upsetting.
She rounded on him while still in full flow. “What ranting? You have no idea what ranting is. I’m trying to get people to understand that we have a responsibility to help those less fortunate than us.”
“Actually, we don’t,” he answered, addressing himself to her, but loud enough for everyone to hear. He wanted no misunderstandings.
“This project is specifically designed to ensure that the human race doesn’t get wiped out, and the ARKs are all scientifically organised to protect a nucleus of population to re-seed the planet if these invaders remove, or eradicate the population,” he explained. Not for the first time, he reminded himself.