The Faceless Stratagem

by Robert Scott-Norton

  “You don’t have to be the aggressors. Earth was not ready for your arrival thirty years ago, but we’re more than ready for you now. We’re able to defend ourselves.”

  “Empty threats,” he said, smiling. “You’ve brought this upon yourself. You cut off my ability to send a signal through the telephone network, but you’ve shown me an alternative. I’ve already created a swarm. They will transfer the new command instructions to the embedded nanites.”

  “You can’t be serious.”

  “I’m deadly serious. The swarm will travel the country, growing as it consumes more material. And every human being it comes into contact with will have their embedded nanites reprogrammed. They will become Heralds. A population of Faceless ready for the next dimensional schism to open.”

  Linwood was aghast. “You’re crazy. It will never work.”

  Linwood’s eyes glanced to the control panel on Winborn’s desk. If she could stop him releasing them, she might be able to use something at TALOS to disable them. “Don’t do it. You’re condemning us.”

  But, Winborn’s hands were resting on the controls in front of him. When he looked up at her, there was peace in his eyes. “You’re damned. All of you. The Shun are coming. With just a single button press, I can release the swarm.”

  Linwood still had her ion blaster. She lifted it now and felt the pressure of her finger on the trigger. Winborn was deluded. She had to stop him releasing the swarm or there would be no recourse. The world had always been vulnerable and Winborn was about to demonstrate exactly how much.

  She pulled the trigger.

  When it didn’t fire, she frowned and without hesitation pulled the trigger a second time.

  There was no energy pulse. The ion blaster had failed. Winborn tutted. “Really? You think we weren’t ready for your incursion? You may have salvaged the original tech that those energy weapons are built on but you seem to have forgotten where they were refined and manufactured.”

  A terrible sinking feeling crept into her gut and she felt like she might be sick. “Department 5 arranged the production of this generation,” she said.

  “And where do you think that production took place?”

  “I assume you made them here.”

  He nodded. “We built in safeguards that weren’t in the original specification. I’ve activated the kill switch to your team’s weapons. None of them will be working now. They’re useless.”

  Linwood dropped her weapon.

  Winborn sat in front of his control panel and pondered the readings. “You know I never asked for this job. I was headhunted by the directors. I’ve never understood why but I see my position as a gift. A chance to make a difference.”

  “By destroying us all.”

  “By saving you.”

  Winborn looked serene as he pressed a control on his panel and released the swarm.

  55

  5th June 2013

  Toby Kingston was perfectly used to sending his men into difficult situations, but this was something different. TALOS should have been a trusted ally—he thought they had been up until Linwood’s phone call.

  Captain Hollers had taken him out onto the ridge overlooking the facility, a huge campus with large industrial buildings surrounding a set of smaller windowed offices. Kingston had taken position behind the drystone wall close to the farm. To his left and right, he could see Holler’s men stretched out along the ridge, mainly along the dirt track leading through the woodland and back to the main road. All were crouching behind cover, and all were still and alert.

  He checked his watch and realised that the team had been inside for almost an hour. In the scheme of things that might be no time at all. It depended on how difficult it proved to locate Max and what kind of resistance TALOS security offered.

  Holler approached and crouched down beside him. “I’ve got two policemen back there. They claim to know DI Payne.”

  Kingston sighed and looked behind him to the farmhouse. What the hell was this about? He’d been persuaded against his better judgement to allow DI Payne’s involvement in this operation and was still kicking himself for bowing to pressure from Linwood so easily.

  “Right, I’ll deal with them,” Kingston replied and hurried back through to the farm’s courtyard. A new car had appeared, a black Nissan and leaning against it a tall man with short dark hair that Kingston didn’t recognise. A blonde-haired woman was waiting with the man. They’d been talking about something but stopped as soon as they saw Kingston approach.

  “This is a restricted area. You need to leave,” Kingston ordered.

  “We can help. You’ve got our man down there,” the tall man said. He was firm but considered.

  “Who are you? Let’s see some ID.”

  The man dug into his jeans pocket for his. The woman opened the back door behind the driver’s seat and pulled out her bag. They both handed them over to Kingston who checked their legitimacy.

  “OK. So you’re police officers. You still can’t be here.”

  Nixon took a step forward. “He told us he was going into TALOS to get a former suspect out. We’ve worked with him on the Faceless case. We’re here to offer whatever help we can.”

  Carter took her ID back from Kingston’s outstretched hand. She looked less sure of herself and Kingston wondered whose idea it had been to come all the way out here.

  “Thank you for offering, but this is a secure area and I can’t allow you to remain.”

  “But we know DI Payne,” Carter said firmly. “And we’ve dealt with the Faceless before. We’ll be fine.”

  Kingston shook his head. “It’s irrelevant. You’re not going down there. In fact, hand over your keys.”

  Nixon exchanged a look with Carter. “What for?” he said.

  “You’re to remain at the farmhouse until we’ve managed the situation. I can’t risk having you spotted on the way back out.”

  Nixon didn’t move and Kingston wondered whether he’d have to force the issue. But then, with a deflated look, he handed the keys over. Kingston pocketed them.

  “We’ve arranged with the owners to make use of their kitchen. Why not make yourselves useful and make us all a brew?”

  Nixon’s face flashed red, but he wasn’t able to fight back with a retort for a shriek broke the quiet. Kingston’s veins froze.

  Kingston gestured that Nixon and Carter stay back, then turned and ran back to the front of the farmhouse. He was vaguely aware of two pairs of footsteps running to keep up with him.

  He heard the cloud before he saw it. Above the framed structure of the institute, a dark cloud had formed, only there was nothing natural about this formation. The cloud moved under its own steam, snatching at gaps through the sky like a swarm of bees when provoked, protecting a hive. That was all Kingston could think—that the cloud was a swarm of bees and it was angry.

  “What the hell is that? Are they insects?” he asked no one in particular. Hollers appeared by his side.

  “It just appeared from the institute.”

  “Any idea what it is?”

  “Not a damn clue, sir.”

  Kingston glanced at Nixon. “You seen anything like this before?”

  “No,” Nixon said warily, “but, it looks pissed and it’s getting closer.”

  The shape was undulating through the sky, sweeping across the valley floor. Settling low, directly above the main TALOS buildings before rising and heading east towards a patch of woodland that connected to the farmland the soldiers were occupying.

  “It’s searching for something,” Carter said. “It’s working its way out from the centre.”

  Kingston concentrated and saw what she meant. There was a definite pattern to its search. The swarm wasn’t randomly drifting across the landscape; it moved with intention and that set the chills off again in Kingston.

  “What is it? Can we get a better look at it?” He was looking for reassurance from Hollers. The captain had borrowed a pair of binoculars from someone but was already sha
king his head.

  “If it’s insects, it’s nothing I’ve seen before,” he answered. “We could do with getting a sample.”

  “Do you think they’re a threat?”

  “Considering where they’ve come from, we’ve got to assume it’s hostile.”

  The troops were restless but ready for action. Along the ridge, as far as Kingston could see, weapons were now trained on the swarm and tracking its movement.

  “They’re reaching farther out,” Carter said. “I think we should back off.” But despite her words, she stepped in even closer to her colleague.

  She was right of course, the swarm was now travelling around the edges of the valley, not crossing back over TALOS like it had before. It was circling and keeping low to the ground. If the troops didn’t move, they’d be in the swarm’s path in less than a minute.

  “Tell your men to back off,” Kingston told Hollers. “Quickly!”

  Hollers didn’t seem to understand what he was being asked. But Nixon and Carter had already edged back towards the sanctity of the farmhouse. Kingston followed suit.

  The soldiers were nervous. They’d not taken their eyes off the cloud since it left TALOS and now that they saw it approach they were understandably concerned.

  “Issue the retreat,” Kingston said, then without waiting for the captain to act, he bellowed to the men on the ridge. “Everyone, take cover. Get off the track!”

  Only a hundred metres away now, the swarm was picking up speed, and it came with a sound that throbbed in Kingston’s ear. A deep foreboding screech that sounded like the layers between heaven and hell were being slammed together, or torn apart.

  He felt a tugging on his arm and turned and ran back to the farmhouse, hot on the heels of Nixon and Carter. A few of the men had stood, and looked across at their captain, who’d still failed to give them a direct order. Hollers stood firm and raised his own rifle to his shoulder. “Open fire if it gets within fifty metres.”

  Jesus, it was already within fifty metres. Couldn't he see that?

  Kingston hesitated under the gate and heard his companions opening the kitchen door. Carter shouted at him to hurry but he couldn’t move. He was transfixed by the activity on the ridge. What would happen when that swarm reached the men?

  The screeching intensified and Kingston winced before lifting his hands to cover his ears. A banshee cry that would haunt his nights.

  Captain Hollers was the first to shoot. Dozens of rounds spat into the approaching shape, but none of it was making any difference. It didn’t stop the captain from emptying a cartridge into it in the slim hope of slowing it down.

  Other soldiers hurried to join their captain on the track and they bore their weapons to the target, firing with the same urgency as their captain, but it wasn’t working. They would be stuck on the track—exposed for when the swarm hit them in seconds.

  “Forget it!” Kingston shouted and for a moment he wasn’t sure whether any of the soldiers had heard him above the screeching.

  The swarm struck the men. Upon the impact, the screeching changed pitch, deep and guttural like a wolf warning its prey. There was a scream. Then there were more as the swarm coiled around the troops, knocking several to the ground, leaving one man alone at the centre of the attack. A splattering of gun fire ripped into the wooden fences to Kingston’s left and he ducked back behind the gate.

  With a terrifying realisation, Kingston realised the man at the axis of the spiralling swarm was Captain Hollers. A lieutenant tried to enter the maelstrom but as he reached an arm in to reach his captain, the swarm knocked him back. He yelled and withdrew, clutching his arm, a broken limb all he had to show for his effort.

  After a moment, when he felt that the swarm was no longer any immediate threat to him at least, Kingston came out from behind the gate and stared, fascinated at what he was witnessing. It looked like a feeding frenzy, like piranhas working on a lost calf in the shallows, but then he realised it was nothing like that at all.

  They were doing something to him. Something far worse than eating him alive.

  56

  5th June 2013

  Ben was not having a great day. It was meant to be the last day before his holiday, and he was hoping it would be a nice wind-down. If things had gone to plan, he would have spent a long break with his feet up in the tertiary control room, having a coffee and tucking into the doughnuts that were customary to bring in on Wednesdays.

  Instead, he was terrified.

  The alarms had sounded whilst he was taking a leak. The information had flashed up on his comms unit, and he’d raced back up to the tertiary control room, his heart racing, screaming at him to slow it down.

  It hadn’t slowed down for an hour.

  His unit leader had told him to stay in the control room and coordinate the search and that should have suited him, given him a chance to calm down.

  He’d spotted the first group of strangers quickly enough and sent their position to the men on the ground. Why on earth anyone would want to break into a research centre was beyond him. Last year, there’d been that lot of loonies from the animal welfare society that had broken in, trying to find their secret lab full of monkeys and dogs. There weren’t any monkeys or dogs but that didn't seem to concern them.

  But what was upsetting Ben the most, were the cameras in section fourteen. The Faceless were acting up. He knew all about the Faceless. As far as secrets went, it was a poorly kept one. Connected to the incident at Jodrell Bank, they’d been brought in, and shortly after, access to them had been severely restricted. He hadn’t been allowed to see them in person, but observing them over the security screens was disturbing enough. No one had explained what had happened to those poor people—he just knew that he never wanted to get close to one.

  But the situation had changed. He’d used the cameras to zoom in on one of the people. From the clothing, he’d guessed it was a man. Whether gender still meant anything after their transformation he couldn’t say.

  The man was standing beside the security field of his cell. This was unusual as they spent most of their time inert in the middle of their cell. They didn’t seem to eat or sleep. It was like they’d gone inactive. As Ben watched, curious as to what has caused this one to become responsive, it reached out to touch the security field, and the shock sent it flying against the back of the cell. The shock would have been enough to put most off, but the cell’s occupant had other ideas. He repeated his action with the same predictable result. Ben wondered how many shocks like that a human body could take.

  Ben got on his radio. “Are there any units outside section 2?”

  He was answered by a load of static.

  “Repeat, this is Ben from the control room. I’ve got a subject in section 2 under stress and acting strangely. I need someone to check it out.” He mouthed a silent prayer and counted to ten, giving whomever might be on the other end of his radio a chance to respond. The silence stretched out. No answer came. Ben put a hand to his forehead and pressed against the skin, willing the problem to go away.

  He zoomed out again, and that was when he saw three other Faceless all acting in the same way. All mobile and trying to force their way out of the section block.

  Ben grabbed his weapon and hurried from the room, cursing at the rest of the bastards on his team for not getting back to him.

  57

  5th June 2013

  There was no one outside the containment block. This was against protocol. Ben suspected protocol had been forgotten when the alarms sounded and scared everyone into action.

  Cautiously, he held his pass to the sensor plate, and as the doors slid open with an ominous drone, he stepped inside. His weapon was already in his hand and he’d prepared himself to see the Faceless people out of their cells. They weren’t of course; they were safe and secure in their individual units. But now, there were more than just the three active Faceless—every single Faceless was testing the field emitters that were holding them inside their cells. The com
bined noise of a hundred field emitters in a hundred cells droned on in the background and was interrupted every few seconds by one of the Faceless touching the field and receiving a shock for their efforts.

  “Step back,” he shouted into the block, embarrassed by how ineffectual his voice sounded in the cavernous space. He adjusted his glasses, pushing them back up his nose as he always did when nerves struck.

  As one, the Faceless stopped what they were doing and straightened. As one, the Faceless turned their heads to observe this stranger.

  Ben felt his bowels loosen. He depressed the call button on his radio again. “This is Ben Gittins from security. If anyone can hear this, I need your help in the containment block. The Faceless are acting weird.”

  Static, this time. Even worse than before. “Shit, shit, shit,” he said. No one was coming. He would have to tackle this on his own. At least, he thought, they weren’t trying to escape anymore. Perhaps his interrupting them was enough of a shock to lull them into quiet time again.

  He stepped further into the room, keeping to the middle, firmly between the lines of cells, and he grew more unnerved as the blank faces kept him locked in their sights. How were they even doing that? They didn’t even have eyes yet they were tracking him. Even the ones from the first floor were doing the same.

  He stopped and they stopped. “I will need you all to stand at the back of your units. Do you understand?”

  No one did as he asked.

  Enough with this shit, he thought and turned to leave. Even if they got out of their cells, they wouldn’t get out of the containment block. He could disable the locking mechanism from the control room so no one would accidentally let them out. Besides, what harm could they do anyone?