Humble Beginnings

by KA Hopkins

  Chapter 3 - Guide

  The twenty miles to the closest bio-dome took less than fifteen minutes to transit, since there was no other traffic in the tunnel. Although we did not want to draw undue attention to ourselves, I had never witnessed any hovercraft in transit at any speed other than wide-open. The hovercraft technology continued to impress me - even at maximum speed, the engine was whisper quiet and smooth. The effect was somewhat ruined by the wind whistling through the bullet holes.

  The engineering of the tunnels while impressive paled in comparison to that found in the bio-domes. The first bio-dome we came upon was a mile across and about the same height as the Empire State building. The buildings, unlike those found in most modern cities, did not have angular edges. Every corner was rounded with architectural lines that flowed from one building feature to another. Many of the buildings had features which appeared to have little purpose other than aesthetics. The light was soft and diffused and radiated from the dome walls such that there were no shadows anywhere between buildings. No light source could be seen; it appeared as if the entire dome itself was the light source. The light bounced off the building surfaces - which appeared to be mostly glass - causing them to sparkle in a rainbow of colors. Walkways, balconies and open platforms suspended around the perimeter of each building, contained green spaces, gardens and trees. Nowhere was there any signs of garbage, debris, dead plants or fading paint; yet, I had a distinct feeling that the buildings were ancient. In many ways the architecture resembled an upside down tree root system. It was the most beautiful, graceful design I had ever seen.

  The outer edge of the bio-dome was made up of a ring road which was mostly deserted. What astonished me was the traffic on the ring road flew through the air, on multiple rings vertically spaced two hundred feet apart. The demarcation of the rings was through a series of floating lights, with each ring having a unique color. On one side of the ring, traffic could ascend from level to level, on the other it could descend. Vehicles could only ascend or descend one ring per lap. This meant that to get to the top or bottom, you had to go around the entire dome up to five times - but this allowed a ring speed much higher than letting all traffic go up or down where ever it wanted.

  Marc pulled up beside me and opened his cockpit, “So still think you’re in Kansas? As impressive as this dome is, I think a dome used for manufacturing or storage is a better place to hide.”

  I hit the voice command prompt on the console and asked: “Locate manufacturing and storage areas.” The computer responded: “It's a pleasure to serve you in voice mode. While our standard wireless data link is more efficient, I do enjoy the opportunity to use this form of data transfer. The answer to your query is: while each dome has limited storage and manufacturing, dome seventeen has the highest density of both. Would you like me to plot and navigate the fastest course, or would you like a more scenic route? The direct route will take approximately three hours at optimal speed."

  I’m not sure what surprised me more - that I knew which button to hit to activate the man-machine interface, or that the computer’s pleasant female voice spoke English with a British accent, similar to what you find in high end car GPS units. Whoever programmed the voice must have had the speaking cadence of the character C3PO from Star Wars in mind, but no machine I had ever heard, sounded that sexy. The kicker was that it did not seem to be the least bit perplexed that a Sentinel would ask for directions. I said: “Plot a roundabout route. Execute.”

  “Thank you, it will give me great pleasure to be your driver today. Would you like en route commentary on the points of interest?”

  Curiosity got the best of me. I knew the best option to remain inconspicuous and hence unnoticed was to say as little as possible, but something about this computer made me want to start a conversation. So I asked, “Computer, don’t you find it unusual to be verbally communicating with a Sentinel?”

  “I am programmed to interact based upon the initial interchange of the driver. This is the first time I have been addressed in voice-mode by someone who resembles a Sentinel. As a matter of fact this is a first in many ways, given that Sentinels are self-centered, mission-centric machines who communicate only on their sub links to each other and the Central Surveillance AI.” The contempt in the hovercraft’s voice was a complete surprise: this was not your typical artificial voice generated message, it appeared to be a fully interactive machine with a voice you could fall in love with. Amazed by the technology behind the voice, I decided to see what more I could learn.

  “I would like to have a conversation with you; what may I call you?”

  “I’m commonly addressed by my function, which is transport or hovercraft. Today you have requested I act as a guide, so please call me Guide.”

  “Guide it is,” I said. “Guide, I’m curious about your accent, you sound like someone from England - why is that?”

  “As I explained earlier, I am programmed to respond based upon the first interaction initiated by the driver. Although you resemble a Sentinel you're dressed as a combat soldier and speak English like most of the humans in the maintenance department. Since your accent sounds like someone from the mid-west I decided to pick a female voice from a foreign country as it is my understanding that human males have a higher regard for females with foreign accents. Am I wrong in my assessment?”

  “No, eh, um…not at all, please continue.” What a letdown, I thought to myself. With a voice like that I was hoping the computer would suggest a name a little more exotic, but if she wants to be called “Guide,” who am I to argue?

  We spent the next several hours in deep conversation. Guide described the purpose of each bio-dome we transited in great detail. From Guide’s descriptions, I learned that each bio-dome had a manufacturing specialty covering the entire production lifecycle of products needed within the underground complex, including the manufacturing of Sentinels. With Guide taking care of the driving duties and providing a running commentary, we arrived far too quickly for me to ask half the questions I wanted to.

  Guide said, “We're here, the primary function of this dome is transportation and manufacturing.” Even without Guide’s announcement, the dome had the look of a heavy manufacturing center - rows upon rows of big, solid, tightly packed uniform buildings, with the bulk of the structures close to the ground. Where the first dome had been spacious, flowing into the sky, everything in this dome had a functional look and feel.

  Guide asked, “Do you have a specific building in mind?”

  “We are mainly interested in storage.”

  “The building directly in front is food processing. The one next to it, is hovercraft general storage.”

  I asked Guide, “If someone wanted to cover up a hovercraft’s movements over the last twenty-four hours is there a way to delete the recent driving history from the navigation system?”

  “No. All data goes into a series of memory crystals that cannot be altered or deleted. This information is routinely uploaded to the Central Surveillance AI. However, the crystals can be changed out if faulty. I have heard from other transports that a crystal repair will not harm my core functionality but it will reset my personality. Everything that I have learned and who I have become since factory activation will be lost. Do you believe removal of my memory crystals will stop the Central Surveillance AI from learning I transported two individuals who are using unauthorized Sentinel transponders?” asked Guide.

  “What makes you say that?” I asked, as I discreetly pulled my pistol out of its holster.

  “My previous mission was to assist in the investigation of two duplicate DNA transponder codes. It’s an unheard of fault, as DNA codes are unique, but codes are assigned sometimes from disconnected systems and occasionally glitches do occur. Duplicate DNA codes have never occurred before. This fault was immediately flagged by the Central Surveillance AI. As usual I had to figure this out on my own, as the Sentinels won’t speak to me, but it was not hard to deduce our mission given our search pattern and
the fact that tactical display showed two sets of duplicated codes.

  Chances are it was not a computer glitch that caused the duplicate code error as a number of shots were fired at the patrolling officers when they found you. The ensuring firefight may have caused the transport’s fuel cells to explode. In the explosion all of the Sentinels were destroyed. The two of you, who surprisingly enough were not hurt in the explosion then placed their remains in the prisoner compartment and requested to be driven to the most isolated bio-dome within the complex. In a strange coincidence my camera developed a fault and is now stuck on the head of a deactivated Sentinel.” I now had my pistol completely out of the holster by the side of my leg ready to shoot through the display console and disable Guide as she was about to deduce who we were. As I gently took up the slack in the trigger, Guide said, “Shooting me through the display console will not destroy my memory crystals. They are located in a secure enclosure within the engine compartment.”

  “You don’t say! How could someone quickly disable you?”

  “Since we’re friends now, all you have to do is ask.” Guide said in a hushed, conspiring tone. “Please put your pistol away, there is no need for it. I am not what I appear to be. This facility has been under surveillance by the authorities for quite some time. It’s a perfect place for illegal activities as there are so few personnel here and most of the facility is mothballed. Being nearly abandoned, this facility is pretty much ignored as nothing ever happens here. Nevertheless, good security doctrine dictates a small number of transports which have the most mobility of any of the automated vehicles should perform observation duties.

  As part of my observation duties, I’m to provide assistance to anyone gathering information about this facility that looks out of place. To avoid compromise neither side knows the other’s identity. Since I have no way to easily know who to help, my neural cluster functionality is significantly enhanced, enabling me to decide whether or not to provide assistance based upon a stranger’s actions. Yours, for the record, were not at all subtle!”

  For the first time since the firefight with the Sentinels things started to look up. With Guide’s assistance Marc and I just might have a chance. “Guide can you help us lie low? Our original mission to scout out the base is blown, we’re both worn out and our ride home is in maintenance for at least two weeks.”

  “It would be my pleasure. Firstly, we need to get rid of the other hovercraft - nice disposition, but it could not keep a secret to save its life. Here’s what we are going to do.”

  With Guide’s assistance we unlocked the hovercraft storage facility and moved both hovercraft inside. Guide changed the inventory programming so that we would not show up on the automatic inventory-scan. Unless someone did a physical check there was no way to tell two extra hovercraft were hidden in a storage facility this size.

  Inside the storage facility were hundreds of brand new hovercraft, lined up in straight rows as far as the eye could see. Even though there was no rust, leaking fluids, or dust anywhere within the storage facility, you could not escape the feeling that none of these hovercraft appeared to have moved in a very long time.

  Guide provided the access codes to the other hovercraft’s engine compartment and secure data crystals storage enclosure. Erasing the data crystals was accomplished by overloading them with the auxiliary power port in the engine bay. With its memory set to factory default, we put all of the Sentinel DNA transponders and what was left of the Sentinels into the memory wiped hovercraft, along with a maintenance log message stating the hovercraft experienced a fault while on patrol and was en route to a repair station.

  We had Guide send the wiped hovercraft on a roundabout routing through as many of the bio-domes as possible. Once it was suitably far enough away from our location, the hovercraft was instructed to find a transport in one of the tunnels and hit it head on at maximum speed. With luck, the crash and ensuing fire should explain and cover up the damage done to the Sentinels. Guide explained a standard Sentinel patrol lasted anywhere from twelve to twenty-four hours, so the hovercraft should crash before declared overdue and a search initiated.

  Chapter 4 - Catching the Flu

  Once the memory-wiped hovercraft departed and the immediate threat to our well-being was removed, the fatigue of the past ninety-six hours smashed down upon us like a tidal wave. It’s piss poor operational doctrine not to set a watch when you’re going to ground for the night in enemy territory, but it did not matter. I tried to say something to Marc and fell asleep mid-sentence. Marc had more discipline and experience in post firefight actions, but he passed out as well.

  As we slept, Guide set about monitoring all transmissions from the storage area, ensuring nothing was out of the ordinary. She put all of her systems into maintenance mode and shut off her transponder - as long as everyone stayed within the boundaries of the storage depot, the Central Surveillance AI could not detect any of us.

  My sleep was restless despite my exhaustion. I did not have nightmares which would have been perfectly expected given the trauma of recent events; rather I had the weirdest dreams. There were no images of my family, definitely nothing as pleasant as an erotic dream, just dreams of being in a library - and I hate libraries! It’s so much easier to find stuff online than to search through rows and rows of dusty, smelly old books. Nevertheless, I dreamt of being in a vast library, bigger than the Library of Congress. In front of me was all of the knowledge anyone could ever want or need on every topic you could visualize. Imagine having in front of you every book ever written on philosophy, history, engineering, languages, business, military tactics, medicine, nature and manuals on how to do anything from fixing a toilet to flying a spaceship.

  In my dream I walked up to a row of books, randomly pulled one down and tried to read it, but I had limited comprehension. The simple act of reading was painfully slow and difficult. I had to sound out nearly all the words, even the simple ones, with two and three syllables. It was like learning to read all over again. What kind of nightmare was this? There were millions of books and I felt compelled to read them all - at this rate it would take forever. A little like the mythical Greek king, Sisyphus, sentenced to an eternity of pushing a boulder up a never-ending mountain. I put the book I had just flipped through back. I did not understand much of anything I had just read, but could remember every word on every page. In fact, I could recall every facet of the past ninety-six hours in amazing detail. Normally I cannot remember the day of the week, let alone what I ate for breakfast, yet I knew Marc and I had fired exactly forty-two rounds in the firefight. As I had gotten older my memory became so bad, I was forced to use my smart phone in order to keep a list of important tasks or nothing ever got done. When I could not use lists, I had to depend on habit to find things - if I did not park in the same spot at work every day, I was regularly losing my car as I could not remember where I left it. Something strange was happening to my memory.

  Being an ex-soldier I have some familiarity and training with the symptoms and causes of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), which can occur after only a single traumatic event. Based upon my training, I understood it could cause memory impairment, nightmares and cognitive disassociation - not dreams of being lost in a library and memory improvement. Well for me, maybe being lost in a library is a nightmare, but the memory improvement was completely unexpected. No one is immune to the effects, but people who are used to dealing with stressful situations seem to cope better than those who have never experienced a life-or-death situation. In my case, I was tested early in my military career, the results showed I had a psychological profile which suggested a moral flexibility towards “violence of action,” but there was no way to know how I would react in a real world violent confrontation. As a computer guy, my previous exposure to immediate physical danger was limited to paper cuts.

  While we were hiding out, time passed quickly for me as I mainly slept twenty-three hours a day. Sure we had been through an ordeal, but normally after a couple
of night’s sleep I am ready to go. Not so this time - I was flat on my back, wiped out. I had never felt so weak and helpless.

  My daily routine consisted of waking up, drinking as much water as I could, eating a bit of dehydrated food and passing right out again. Every time I was asleep the library dream recurred. Marc would check on me from time to time. During one of the few times I was awake he said, “Dude I have no idea what’s up with you - no shakes, no sweats or fever, but no go either. Hopefully you sleep it off and you’ll be mobile when we need to leave.” Then I promptly fell back asleep. Marc tried to keep his mind busy which proved difficult without anything to read. To pass the time he had long conversations with Guide.

  After two weeks of the same sleep, eat, sleep routine, day by day I began to feel my strength slowly returning. The stealth suits do a pretty good job of keeping you clean, but two weeks in the suit was pushing it. I wanted nothing more than a good shower and something that did not fit skin tight. Apart from this minor discomfort, not only did I feel pretty good - I felt better than I had in years. Gone were all of my normal day-to-day aches and pains that make it difficult to get out of bed most days. I never realized how many I had until they were all gone! My neck, back, knees, hips, shoulders and ankles were pain free for the first time in years.

  My vision was clear, in fact I could see several times better than before. My distance vision was 20/20 which is considered perfect, but like most people in their fifties I needed reading glasses. Now I could see the tiniest rivets on the side of a hovercraft over a hundred yards away and could read the writing on the ration packs without trouble. Standing up, my legs felt solid and I could easily balance on the balls of my feet. Taking a couple of steps in either direction, my stride was sure and strong. Given everything we had been through, there was no way I should feel as good as I did.