“It was a damn good try,” Gwen said. “Thanks anyway.”
“You’re welcome,” Hackett said, his face a study in worry. “But remember the old saying: Close only counts in horseshoes.”
Titan Four
SURP Station 872
“We’re going in, gentlemen,” Blade announced. “Tomahawk, do you have Resolution?”
“Right here, Blade.”
“So we’re going to destroy this . . . whatever it is?” said Eagle Eye.
“Affirmative,” said Blade.
“But we get Titan Six out first, right?” said Demon.
“If possible,” Blade said in a flat voice. “Either way, however, we blow this mother up.”
Tomahawk looked at the package he carried, marked RESOLUTION. The plasma weapon was one of the deadliest in Titan Global’s arsenal, and it was designed to accomplish just what it’s name implied: a final resolution to a conflict when clear victory was no longer deemed possible.
Blade, followed by his team, pressed the hydrogen circle on the front face of the cube in the proper prime number sequence.
They were in.
Titan Six
The Tube beneath Mount Elbert
Titan Six and their captives emerged from the elevator and found themselves in a wide, circular room. Portals were arranged ten feet apart on the round wall.
“Hold tight, T6,” said DJ. “Plotting a way out of the cube, but it’s going to be tricky. Like threading a needle.”
* * *
* Over there. Go through that portal straight ahead. Slowly, so as not to attract attention. *
We’re going to the library?
* If my calculations are correct, yes. *
* * *
“Senex override protocol seven,” Burmaster called out loudly. “Soldiers only.”
Hawkeye and Tank exchanged worried glances as the wall of the circular room began to change colors so fast that it appeared to be a psychedelic collage.
The members of Titan Six drifted a foot off the floor, completely paralyzed.
Fifteen Sents entered through one of the portals and removed the cuffs from Burmaster, Beemler, and Marshall.
“Take them to Lab Ten,” Beemler told the Sents. “Prepare them for Sentient Assimilation.”
Titan Six
The Tube beneath Mount Elbert
Hawkeye opened his eyelids with difficulty, feeling weak and confused. He was lying on a metal slab, his arms and legs clasped tightly in restraints. He turned his head to the right, his neck stiff and sore, to find his team members lying on adjacent slabs. Each had several IV tubes running into the veins of their arms and legs. Their helmets had been removed, so communication with the Ops Center was impossible.
Hawkeye recalled being unable to move while suspended in air. Burmaster had issued a verbal command, activating some kind of cube defense mechanism.
As Hans Beemler strolled among the slabs, Hawkeye also remembered hearing the scientist say that he might perform experiments on Titan Six. Beemler’s next words validated Hawkeye’s memory.
“You will notice, Titan Six,” Beemler began, “that there are several drips hanging above you, drips that I will shortly administer to each one of you.”
Beemler grinned as he spoke in a condescending, professorial tone. He made no eye contact with his test subjects as he strolled about the lab, head tilted up as he addressed Titan Six. His words were academic and dispassionate, as if he were lecturing a class.
“The amber liquid,” he continued, “will destroy all of the nanobots in your system. And yes, we have scanned your body and know all about your physical enhancements and BioMEMS. It’s really very primitive by our standards, of course, but you’re in luck. Once the nanobots are cleared from your system, you will receive other IV drips — yes, the silver, blue, and clear liquids hanging above you — that will turn you into hybrid beings similar to the sentinels you’ve seen, although you will have far more cognitive and processing abilities than the Sents, and you’ll be taller and stronger. We’ve tried this before on some of our soldiers, but without success. I’ve recently perfected the process, however, and you will be the first humans to have your entire bodies modified using the technology of our joint benefactors, the Ancients.”
Beemler moved to a position between the slabs where Hawkeye and Tank lay. He glanced down at them through his thick glasses, a devilish grin of victory illuminating his face.
“The blue liquid,” Beemler explained, “will transform your bones — your entire skeletons, to be precise — into a metal-organic framework, or MOF. The resulting bone structures will be stronger and more pliable than your present skeletal compositions.
“The clear liquid will then transform your internal organs and tissues into hybrid compounds of metal and living tissue. You won’t be what science fiction has traditionally termed cyborgs — no, not at all — but rather a true reflection of the technology used by the Ancients. You will be sentient humanoid beings no longer based on carbon, but rather on a fusion of DNA and metallic alloys.
“Finally, the silver liquid will coat your skin and the newly created matrix within your bodies with a metal patina, for lack of a better word, that will offer strength but elasticity.”
“Why don’t you go to hell?” Gator said.
“I do not believe in hell,” Beemler said calmly. “Only in pure scientific rationalism.”
“The Ancients had a highly developed sense of spirituality,” Shooter pointed out. “You obviously aren’t interested in who they really were.”
Beemler cocked his head, raised his eyebrows, and nodded confidently. “I think your premise is absolutely correct. This cube is, for all intents and purposes, a military facility serving the needs of the twenty-first century. Our goals are not spiritual, nor do we aspire to apply the esoteric knowledge of the wonderful race of beings to whom you allude. Our approach is far more utilitarian. Changing the hearts of the world through ancient metaphysical principles is already failing. No, we seek to change not the hearts, but the minds of humanity.”
“I think you’ve got a keen understanding of George Orwell,” Hawkeye said. “Senex is nothing more than Big Brother, secretly manipulating society for the sake of raw power.”
“Actually,” Burmaster said as he entered the lab, “we genuinely wish to steer mankind in a productive direction, but I must admit that the only way to accomplish our goals is through the use of raw power, as you so aptly put it. Dr. Beemler, I think it’s time to begin the Sentient Assimilation Procedure.”
“Excellent,” Beemler said.
The scientist moved to the head of Hawkeye’s slab, raising his hand to the valve at the top of the IV tube emanating from the plastic bag containing amber liquid.
“There may be some minor pain involved in destroying your nanobots,” Beemler explained. “And, unfortunately, there will be considerable pain when your skeletal structures are modified. After that, the procedure will be relatively simple.”
Beemler held the valve between his thumb and index finger. “Now to begin.”
Titan Four
The Cube beneath Mount Elbert
Titan Four cautiously advanced deeper into the cube, stepping through one portal after another. Within minutes, they would encounter some of the heaviest fighting in the careers.
Titan Four stood in a hexagonal room when Sents and commandos assaulted them from the left and right respectively. Demon opened up his machine gun, while Jet and Tomahawk fired their assault rifles at the commandos.
Blade and Eagle Eye knew of T6’s encounters with the sentinels and reached for their TR5 laser rifles.
Almost like toy soldiers on a play battlefield, commandos dropped one after another from the heavy fire laid down by Demon, Jet, and Tomahawk. They’d killed five Serbian soldiers, then ten. Still, the Serbian mercenaries kept pouring through portals.
“I’m hit in the leg!” Demon cried above the thunderous battle.
“They got my arm!” Jet
screamed.
“BioMEMS activated,” DJ said from the Ops Center.
Blade and Eagle Eye knew that they needed to locate Titan Six and destroy the cube, the latter being their primary mission. Time was not a luxury, so they fired at the Sents with their laser rifles on maximum settings as they ducked and rolled away from the photon blasts issuing from the sentinels’ deadly tubes.
Like the commandos, wave after wave of sentinels poured into the hexagon. Blade and Eagle Eye vaporized each new wave, the Sents glowing red before they suffered complete molecular disintegration.
“I can lead you to the lab where Titan Six is,” DJ told Blade, “but you’re going to encounter resistance every step of the way. I recommend, Titan Four, that you keep both laser rifles and conventional weapons at the ready.”
“Affirmative,” Blade said. “Everything’s on the table.”
“Very well,” DJ said. “Enter the pneumatic tube to your right and ride up thirty-six levels. That’s where T6 is.”
Titan Four rushed into the open, waiting elevator.
Touchdown
SURP Station 872
Touchdown exited the maglev car and, carrying the aluminum case of meds for Quiz, hustled down the corridor to the cube. At the end of the hall, as he stepped into the cavern housing the tall metallic structure, he was confronted by a Somali pirate.
The pirate attacked, a rifle slung over his back, a knife in his belt, and a broadsword in his hands. His clothes were rags, his grizzly face dirty and unshaven.
Touchdown reported his status as he began to fire his assault rifle at the disheveled rogue.
“There’s nobody there,” DJ said. “I read no energy signature anywhere outside the cube.”
“Easy for you to say, DJ. I’m definitely under attack, although my bullets are having no effect at all on this SOB.”
Touchdown dodged the swift sword thrusts, firing at the Somali foe repeatedly.
“He’s an illusion,” Ambergris informed him. “Ignore it. His weapons can’t hurt you, just as your bullets can’t hurt him. He’s not real.”
“But — ”
“Follow orders,” Caine said sternly. “We’re running out of time. Enter the cube by pressing the hydrogen symbol with the correct prime number code.”
“I’m hyperventilating,” Touchdown said. “I don’t know if I can.”
“I’m increasing your O2 sats,” Grace said. “Breathe slowly and deeply. You’ll be fine.”
The Somali slashed Touchdown with his blade, but it passed straight through the soldier’s body.
“Interesting,” Touchdown said. He moved to the hydrogen symbol on the face of the cube as the pirate began firing his rifle. The bullets passed harmlessly through his body.
“Get the hell out of here!” Touchdown yelled at his ethereal enemy with authority. “Enough!”
The pirate dissolved like neon trickles fading from the midway of a carnival late at night.
“Okay, Ops,” Touchdown reported. “I’m inside this son of a bitch. What do I do next so that — ”
Touchdown raised his assault rifle and shot two Serbian soldiers who had appeared from nowhere. They most definitely were not illusions.
“Find an elevator,” DJ said. “Quiz is on Level 27.”
* * *
In the Ops Center, DJ turned towards Caine. “We’re in over our heads,” she said. “We’re out of contact with T6, T4 is going to meet heavy resistance, Quiz is isolated, and Touchdown is one man against God knows how many commandos and sentinels.”
“Monitor them as best you can,” Caine said, “and leave the rest to Fate. We always sink or swim based on the training we provide these soldiers.”
Caine turned to Ambergris. “Joshua, I want you to contact the Offices of the Vice President and the Secretary of Defense. I’ll vouch for both of them. Send them a copy of the Senex file. This renegade government isn’t going to be happy that we’ve uncovered its existence. The legitimate government needs a heads-up in case Senex attempts a coup.”
“Calling now,” Ambergris said.
Caine folded her arms. She felt in her gut that Titan troops would prevail, but not without serious casualties.
Central Intelligence Agency
Langley, Virginia
Gwen was groggy, confused, listless. Her eyelids were heavy, like lead weights, and her head ached, as if it had been rudely assaulted with a large object, such as a glass paperweight.
She raised her head and looked to her left. Everything was a blur. A bright light shone on her from the right, and she perceived two figures standing in front of her, although they resembled vertical objects, like trees or planks of wood, more than humans.
“You’ll feel better in a few moments,” said an unfamiliar voice. “The drug was short-acting.”
Gwen looked to her right and saw that Chief Hackett was also regaining consciousness.
Her eyes came back into focus. She was tied to a chair, as was Hackett, and Admiral McManus stood before her next to a man in a suit, one of the infamous men in black. She couldn’t identify anything else in the room because the light produced glare rather than clear illumination. She could have been in a vast warehouse or a tiny closet — she couldn’t tell — but all that mattered was that she and Hackett had been apprehended and brought to a “place” where she was certain bad things were about to transpire.
“You have both betrayed me,” McManus said sternly. “And your country as well. The consequences will be severe. Permanent, in fact.”
“Go ahead and get it over with,” Gwen said. “Quick and painless, if you don’t mind. Consider that my last request.”
McManus nodded. “Painless? It always is in matters such as these,” he declared. “Messy doesn’t suit our purposes. As soon as our Exterminator arrives, you’ll both receive a single, precise shot to your brainpans. Death will be instantaneous.”
“Can you tell Ben and the kids that I love them?” Gwen asked.
“I’m afraid that’s one request I can’t grant,” McManus replied. “It would be at odds with that automobile accident that I told you would be inevitable if you didn’t cooperate. People never send farewell messages in cases where they don’t expect to be killed. Sorry, my dear.”
Gwen cringed at the Admiral’s term of endearment.
McManus turned to his associate.
“He’ll be here in about thirty minutes,” the man in black said. “Maybe less.”
Quiz
The Cube beneath Mount Elbert
Because of Dante’s heightened sensory abilities and a perfect recollection of the cube’s architecture that he had assimilated thus far, he was able to guide Quiz directly to the Library of the Ancients.
* I will direct you as to which crystals to put in your pack. There are probably a hundred thousand glass disks and crystals to choose from, but I can tell you which contain the most valuable information that can, through analysis, tell us about the culture of the Ancients. First, I will try to effect another energy transfer to stabilize your condition. *
Dante once more stood several feet from Quiz, his arms extended. Closing his eyes, he inhaled and then dropped his limbs.
What’s the matter, Dante?
* I’m not sure. My energy is very low. Like the holographic Ancient we encountered, I obviously cannot stay away from my host, namely you, for a very long time. I draw my energy from the electrical energy within your brain. I don’t think I’ve had time to re-energize my consciousness since the last time we separated. Fortunately, Touchdown is already here and has your meds. I suggest you start collecting crystals now. *
Okay. I’ll try to hurry.
For the next several minutes, Quiz removed glass disks and crystals from their slots in the vast library. Dante claimed they had information on the Ancients’ daily lives, belief systems, values, art, science, and, most importantly, the complete history of their culture, which had lasted hundreds of thousands of years. Such data would be invaluable to Joshua Ambergri
s and his scientific colleagues.
He also scraped a piece of the wall into a “samples bag.” The cube turned red and purple at the site where Quiz made the incision, as if it were displaying a bruise.
Quiz was nearly finished when Dante spoke next.
* Something strange is happening. I don’t seem to have the strength to enter your body again. The energy from these crystals is creating confusion in my mind. I feel drawn to . . . something. I’m not at all sure what it is. *
Try, Dante! Think of what it’s like to be inside my thoughts. Return to your host! Please!
* I’m trying, my old friend, but — *
Dante’s body was turning into pure light energy.
The outline of his body was clear, but his features were no longer discernible.
“Dante!” Quiz said aloud.
The Italian poet was now a swirling mass of energy, its nebulous form entering a nearby crystal ten inches long.
And then he was gone.
Silence.
Quiz had not been completely alone with his thoughts for as long as he could remember. Even when Dante was silent for long periods of time, Quiz had the unusual but not unpleasant sensation of knowing that he was never totally alone, that he could summon the poet anytime he wanted.
Quiz was growing weaker. Perhaps from the shock of the unnatural silence — he felt that part of his consciousness was missing — or perhaps from not having Dante’s own energy to combine with his own, he staggered towards the crystal.
Or maybe the infection was spreading much faster now. His arms were nearly black, the hideous spider veins having usurped his healthy tissue as it rewrote its DNA.
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