Cloak Games: Last Judge

by Jonathan Moeller

  Soon we were about thirty yards away from the tunnel cut into the mountain. It looked exactly like a freeway tunnel that had been drilled through a hill, though the floor was paved with polished concrete rather than asphalt. I couldn’t tell how far it extended into the rock of the mountain – a hundred yards, maybe two hundred? Every twenty yards or so a utility light shone from the walls of the tunnel.

  “How are those lights still on after three hundred years?” said Russell.

  Nicholas started to say something and then pointed.

  “Look,” he murmured.

  Something metallic moved in the shadows of the tunnel.

  “What the hell?” I said.

  A metal spider the size of a horse moved in silence along the wall.

  At first, I thought it was some kind of creature from the Shadowlands, something that I had never seen before. But as I watched the thing, I realized that it was a robot. I had seen robots before, but not all that often. The High Queen strictly controlled their use, since she believed that too much automation technology destroyed the jobs she wanted to give to veteran men-at-arms once they completed their terms of service. So, I had seen robots before, but none this complicated.

  Or big.

  Or that well-armed.

  A pair of miniguns had been mounted on the top of the metal spider’s carapace.

  “Is that…like, a machine of some kind?” said Russell.

  “A drone, actually,” said Nicholas. “Controlled by a computer inside the Last Judge facility. I assume this is a prototype of an advanced weapon. Evidently, the engineers knew what they were doing because it’s still functioning.”

  “It has a bunch of tools on its arms, too,” said Russell, shading his eyes.

  “Probably both a defense drone and a maintenance one,” said Nicholas.

  I didn’t like that thought at all. I had assumed Last Judge would be a tomb with some remaining defenses I would have to disable. But what if it was like some sort of automated clockwork mechanism that was still running after three centuries?

  And those wraithwolves…God, I had to assume that both dark magic and technology defended the facility.

  “Did that metal spider thing kill the first men you sent inside?” I said.

  “That, and four others lurking in niches further down the tunnel,” said Nicholas. “They completely wiped out the first party we sent into the tunnel.”

  “What happened to the bodies?” I said.

  “The spider drones carried them off,” said Nicholas. “After that, we used a rocket launcher to disable one of the drones. The other spiders carried it away, and either they repaired it, or they replaced it completely.”

  “Great,” I said.

  “Which, Miss Moran, is where you come in,” said Nicholas, reaching into a pocket in his tactical harness.

  Great, great, great.

  “Take this and Cloak,” said Nicholas, handing me the data rod I had stolen last night. “At the end of the tunnel, there should be a pair of metal doors. Next to those doors will be a computer terminal with a lock. Insert the rod into the lock, and it will open the doors and shut down the drones’ defense protocols.”

  “Can those things see through Cloak spells?” I said.

  “I doubt it,” said Nicholas. “From what I understand, Cloak spells block or alter most forms of electromagnetic radiation. I suspect those drones have cameras and motion detectors – probably short-range radar or laser-based detectors. A Cloak will block all of that.”

  “Wonderful,” I said, taking the data rod in my hand.

  Well, best to get this over with. I took a few deep breaths, clearing my mind and summoning magical power.

  Then I gestured with my free hand and cast the Cloak spell.

  I disappeared from sight, and I jogged forward.

  The mouth of the tunnel drew closer. I could stay Cloaked while moving for about ten minutes or so, maybe a little less, which was more than enough time to cover the two hundred yards to the end of the tunnel. That did not account for something that might go wrong. Maybe those drone things had some sort of exotic sensor that could detect a Cloak spell. Maybe there were pressure sensors on the floor. The Cloak spell could hide me from sight, but it couldn’t do anything against a pressure sensor. Or there might be more wraithwolves.

  Or worse things.

  And that thought bothered me a lot. I knew that the official history of Earth, the official story, wasn’t right. According to the High Queen and the Department of Education, there had been no magic used on Earth before the Conquest. I knew that wasn’t true. The Dark Ones cults had been active on Earth for millennia, and forty-five centuries ago an ancient Mesopotamian king had founded the demesnes of the Knights in the Shadowlands to protect Earth from the Dark Ones. The Forerunner had been active for that long, maybe even since before humanity had figured out written language. So at least some people had been using magic before the High Queen and the Elves had shown up.

  But had the US government been using magic? Why were wraithwolves guarding a secret US military base left over from before the Conquest?

  Nicholas had told me that in Jeremy Shane’s short tenure as Secretary of Defense, Shane had been so horrified by what he had found in Last Judge Mountain that he had planned to shut the whole place down.

  Just what the hell was in there? What had the government been doing?

  Then I reached the mouth of the tunnel, and I could spare no more thought for anything but the task at hand.

  My shoes slapped against the smooth concrete of the floor. It was dim and cool in the tunnel, the heat of the sun blocked by the rock of the cliff overhead, and the only light came from the occasional glowing panels along the wall. The drones made no response as I jogged into the tunnel. Up close, they looked even more dangerous. Armor plating covered their bodies, and banks of sensors cowled in metal sheathed their heads. More armor covered the joints of their legs, and I saw that the twin miniguns had been mounted on a turret. A faint humming noise came from the machine.

  I was very glad that it could not see me.

  As I jogged down the tunnel, I saw a dozen more drones, motionless in garage-sized niches that lined the walls. They were identical to the drone guarding the entrance, save that some of them had different weapon loadouts – grenade launchers instead of miniguns, or something that I thought was a flamethrower.

  No wonder Nicholas needed my help to get in here. Anyone who tried would be in a world of hurt. Hell, even if you drove a tank down the tunnel, the spiders with grenade launchers could blast it apart, and I suspected their metal legs could rip apart a vehicle without much effort.

  I didn’t see any bodies, but I spotted several fresh bloodstains on the concrete.

  I wondered how many of his people Nicholas had thrown away before he had decided to take the risk of asking my help.

  But he didn’t care about real people. He cared about those abstract future generations.

  The tunnel ended in an enormous steel door. It was two pieces of armored metal that came together with interlocking teeth. Next to the door was a small terminal with a glowing screen. I walked towards it, my mind starting to ache with the effort of holding the Cloak spell in place.

  The words SYSTEM ARMED showed on the screen. Below it was some sort of cylindrical locking mechanism, with a thumb-sized hole in the center.

  It looked like the rod would fit.

  I shrugged and slid the optoelectronic rod into the lock. About two-thirds of its length went into the hole, and then something clicked. The rod locked in place, and I heard a sudden whirring and clanging noise from the terminal. The screen went dark, and with a low wheezing groan, the massive metal doors started to slide open.

  I took several quick steps back, holding my Cloak spell, and peered through the growing crack in the doors. Beyond I saw a large room that looked like the lobby for a fancy high-rise office building. The floor was polished concrete, the walls black. I saw a bank of elevators against one
wall, and a row of metal doors. There was an empty receptionist’s desk on the far side of the room, and another pair of massive doors, no doubt to allow vehicles to drive deeper into the facility.

  Behind the receptionist’s desk, on the wall I saw the words LAST JUDGE BASE in giant bronze letters, along with numerous smaller words I couldn’t quite make out.

  Motion caught my eye, and a robot came into sight. This one was only the size of a big dog, and it moved on six legs tipped with rubber feet. It had four articulated arms rising from its midsection, each arm equipped with a variety of tools. It had to be some sort of maintenance or repair robot. Maybe that explained why so many of the facility’s systems were still operational if these things had been repairing machines as they broke down.

  It was eerie to think of this place lying silent and deserted, its systems humming away as it waited for someone to come and claim the weapons it housed.

  Waiting for someone like Nicholas.

  The massive doors finished opening, and I heard a click and a beep from the terminal. The words SYSTEM STANDBY now glowed on the screen, and the terminal had ejected the rod halfway from its hole.

  I lifted the rod, took a deep breath, and dropped my Cloak spell. At once I gathered magic, preparing to cast another spell, but the giant metal spiders paid no attention. I walked to the nearest robot and stood right in front of its sensors, but while it was still humming and active, it made no response.

  Guess the rod had worked.

  I walked back up the tunnel and into the harsh desert light. Nicholas, Hailey, Corbisher, Morelli, and Leonid stood in one little group, and Russell and Murdo stood by themselves. They weren’t quite pointing their weapons at each other, but it was close.

  “Hey,” I said. “It worked. The spiders aren’t attacking anyone, and the doors at the end of the tunnel opened.”

  “Good,” said Nicholas. “What was behind the door?”

  “Looked like the lobby for an office building, to be honest,” I said. “A receptionist’s desk and a bunch of elevators.”

  “Mmm. We probably won’t want to take those,” said Nicholas. “The mechanisms might not be working after three hundred years.” He stepped closer and held out his hand.

  I realized that he wanted the rod back, and I had a sudden urge not to give it to him. If the rod gave access to all of Last Judge’s systems, then I might want to hang on to it. But if I didn’t give it to him, he might insist…and that could provoke a firefight.

  I sighed and handed over the rod.

  “Thank you, Miss Moran,” said Nicholas. “Let’s go. Keep your eyes open. The rod will have disarmed the entrance guards, but there are probably defensive measures that we don’t know about.”

  “Probably,” I muttered. “Why should things start going smoothly now?”

  “I’ve yet to undertake an operation that didn’t experience some complications,” said Nicholas, and we headed for the tunnel. Morelli and Leonid had guns in hand, and I saw their tension as they looked at the giant robot spiders standing motionless in their niches. Corbisher and Hailey didn’t bother with guns, but I felt the surge of dark magic from them as they held their power ready. Only Nicholas seemed calm. Well, him and Murdo.

  We walked into the lobby without incident. Nicholas headed for the receptionist’s desk at once, and the rest of us followed. I kept my eye on the elevator doors, half-expecting them to open and a mob of killer robots or wraithwolves or anthrophages or God knows what else to charge out. I also looked at the ceiling, expecting to see weapons up there.

  “Hey,” said Russell, looking at the bronze words on the wall behind the receptionist’s desk. “Is that a Bible verse?”

  He took a step forward and started to read aloud.

  “And I saw a great white throne, and him that sat on it, from whose face the earth and the heaven fled away; and there was found no place for them. And I saw the dead, small and great, stand before God; and the books were opened: and another book was opened, which is the book of life: and the dead were judged out of those things which were written in the books, according to their works.”

  “Revelation 20:11-12,” said Murdo, reading the citation below the quote.

  “Why is there a Bible verse on the wall of a secret military base?” said Hailey.

  “Because,” said Nicholas, seating himself at the desk. “That was the purpose of this facility.” I walked around the desk and saw an ancient computer terminal there, but like the one in the tunnel, it was still working. “That verse is about Judgment Day. The Last Judgement, when Christ would return to judge the living and the dead. How do you think this place got its name? The men who worked here knew full well they were building weapons that could destroy both human civilization and perhaps the Earth itself. They could unleash Judgment Day with the press of a button.”

  “Arrogant of them,” said Murdo. “They named the base Last Judge, not Last Judgment. That implies they were the judge.”

  “A boast isn’t arrogant,” said Nicholas, tapping some keys on the terminal, “if it is backed up by the truth. And the weapons housed here could have destroyed human civilization.”

  “And is that why you’re here?” I said. “To destroy human civilization?”

  “On the contrary,” said Nicholas. He reached into a pocket and drew out a thumb drive. It had the ancient USB connector that pre-Conquest computers had used. “We are here to remake it.”

  But remaking something implied that it had first been destroyed.

  I met Russell’s eyes and remembered what he had told me, about how the cost of saving his life might become too high.

  The power to unleash Judgment Day…and Nicholas Connor and the Rebels might soon have it.

  Nicholas plugged the thumb drive into the terminal, and the graphical interface on the screen vanished. Rows of green text scrolled past, faster and faster.

  “What are you doing?” I said.

  “Executing a computer virus,” said Nicholas. “Based on the documents you recovered for me previously, it is safe to assume that Last Judge’s central computer is impervious to malware attack. Any attempt to hack it or override its protection would put the base and its defenses into lockdown mode.”

  “And that would be bad,” I said.

  “It would,” agreed Nicholas. “But we wouldn’t worry about it for long because we would probably all be killed within three minutes. Fortunately, there’s no need to override the computer, not so long as we have the data rod. All we need is…ah, here we are.”

  A map appeared on the screen.

  “All we need,” said Nicholas, “is one specific file.”

  “Where is the Sky Hammer?” I said, looking at the map. God, but this place was huge. The tunnel and the entry lobby were just the top level. The base extended another nine levels underground, and other portions went even deeper. It looked like a sealed nuclear reactor powered the base, which explained how it was still working after all these centuries.

  “Here,” said Nicholas. “Three levels down, in the EMP research section.”

  “EMP?” I said. “Electromagnetic pulse?” Was the Sky Hammer an EMP weapon? That seemed unlikely. Nicholas himself had told me that the High Queen feared that an EMP weapon would be used against her soon after the Conquest and that all electrical and electronic systems on Earth now included shielding against an electromagnetic pulse attack. Any EMP powerful enough to disable a modern electrical system would have to come from a nuclear blast strong enough to burn off most of the planet’s atmosphere, which made the entire thing moot.

  “Yes,” said Nicholas. “And to get there…we’ll have to pass through these areas on the third level.”

  I examined the map. We would have to walk through something called SUMMONING/BLACK OPS, another area labeled BIOHAZARD, and finally a third section marked LAST JUDGE OPERATIONS CENTER.

  “Operations center?” I said.

  “Probably the control room for the facility,” said Murdo.

  Nich
olas nodded. “Shane himself might have had an office down there. It would be fascinating to visit for academic purposes, but we have no further need of any of his knowledge.”

  “SUMMONING/BLACK OPS and BIOHAZARD?” I said. “I don’t like the way that sounds.”

  “Nor do I,” said Nicholas. “We’ll have to be on our guard.” Two more of the dog-like robots strode across the lobby, intent on whatever task the computer had assigned them. Nicholas rose to his feet and pointed at the double metal doors set into the wall next to the Bible verse about doomsday. “Fortunately, it seems this tunnel is a ramp that spirals down through all nine levels of the facility. We can proceed on foot.”

  Leonid grunted. “What about moving the Sky Hammer itself? We won’t be able to carry the damn thing up the ramp.”

  “That’s what the trucks are for,” said Nicholas. “We just need to make sure the route is clear to the weapon. All of you, take pictures of that screen with your phones.” He produced his own phone and took a picture of the map on the screen. “If our proposed route is blocked, we will need to find another way.”

  That was reasonable, so I took out my phone and took a picture of the screen. No signal. Of course, we were under God knows how many tons of rock and concrete and steel. Fortunately, the camera didn’t need a cellular signal to work.

  “I’ve got it,” said Corbisher, tucking his phone away.

  “Good,” said Nicholas. “Miss Moran, Mr. Murdo, the three of us will take the front. Mr. Moran, come after us. Hailey, Martin, Enzo, Leonid, bring up the back and watch for any attackers coming from behind or along the ceilings. Kindly try not to shoot us in the back.”

  Corbisher looked at me and grinned. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

  “Try it, asshole,” I said, “and you’ll wish that bloodrat had finished gnawing off…”

  “Enough,” said Nicholas, his voice hard. “If we bicker amongst ourselves now, we’re almost certainly going to be killed. We can resolve our differences with Miss Moran once we have secured the Sky Hammer. Perhaps there will even be a way to do so without violence.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Sure.”