The Unlicensed Consciousness

by Travis Borne

  Ahhhh!

  Ana spun her chair around and unclipped herself after seeing the pressure force him down. He was wriggling limply, bending at the knees. His eyes carried a blank petrified stare, and his clothes were soaked as if he’d run through a car wash. He was cold, as clammy as a cadaver and as white as a ghost—until she touched him. She knew he was the leader the world needed, that this wasn’t over, not by far. She was his rock.

  Ana spoke to him calmly, in Spanish. Her voice pierced the fabric of his warped reality, and soothed… “Te quiero, mi amor. Estoy aqui con tigo, ahora. Te amo con todo mi corazón y siempre estaré aquí, a tu lado.” The pounding stopped. The brown grid faded. The white stopped slicing him to ribbons. And he could see her, right through the slithering beast in front of him. But the troll’s anger boiled, hotter, hotter. Feverishly the ugly thing continued its barrage—now uselessly, in vain. The beasts were halted in their power, but nevertheless clung to his shoulders and neck and body and legs. Time stopped. In the pitch darkness he was with her, the love of his life, and he lifted his hand to touch her face. He looked into her beautiful brown eyes—an anchor to reality.

  “You can do anything, Herald. I believe in you.” She touched his face in return, now hard-crusted with blood, and she ran her smooth hand along his acne-cratered cheek.

  Herald remembered their first date, how they laughed and shared a soda. He remembered his head in her lap when he was utterly demolished by fatigue, getting no more than three hours of sleep daily. She’d always stood right by his side. She gave him the reason to live, to fight for life. She saved him before, and she was the reason they were still alive, and without her there would never, ever have been even a sliver of a chance in hell of saving anyone.

  Amy grabbed his leg. She was frightened. She looked up at him from her small custom-made chair. He’d fabricated it just for her. Her bright greenish-brown eyes were glossy with tears. She wasn’t afraid of what was outside. She wanted her daddy—because she also knew—he could do anything. “Daddy,” she said slowly. One word. And he saw her. The three of them—a family—stood in the darkness, together.

  “No. Not again. Never again!” Herald said. Anxiety hissed defiantly, but it no longer hurt his ears. The splenetic serpent opened its mouth wide and sunk long fangs deep into Herald’s cheek, opening his skin, tearing a set of white parallel gashes. Herald didn’t flinch. He took in a world of a breath. Bright red began to seep into the edges of his exposed flesh. The snake pulled downward, tearing, digging as deep as it could, and Herald grabbed it. He tore the reptile from his body and spun it around his head, tossing it into the dark abyss. Hiss…the noise faded, along with a whelping cry—and the cuts faded away. Herald glowered at the troll on his shoulders. He took in another powerful breath. His muscles clenched tight regaining full strength and his color returned. Ana’s force gave him unlimited power, but more so, control over the power he already possessed. United, they were unstoppable. And Amy gave him the reason, to never, ever give up. The troll’s eyes widened as Herald’s defiant stare abolished its power. As if hit by both barrels of a 12-gauge double-barrel shotgun, it exploded like a piñata. He did the same with the vine, taking a power step up, and out. It broke apart like green bottle-glass. And he stood tall and firm. The light returned and the world became whole—resuming just where it had left off. The gut-wrenching horrible weakness left his body completely and his knees got strong. Everything was quiet, peaceful, and here was his family, right by his side. They both hit him with a smile, one that ignited a fire within him. Bright, warm, yellow, goodness. Power.

  The sounds returned and he kissed them both. Snapping out of the terrible moment with more determination than ever, Herald unclipped his safety line and bolted toward the back. “Jon, log me in!” He had a reanimated sense of conviction, an aura of confidence, and everyone sensed it; they knew he had a plan. Jerry and Felix handled Rosita’s body, placing her across three empty seats. Felix strapped her down. They all looked to Herald, their leader; his look told them: We have a good chance, let’s do this! Just as Herald was about to hop into the lender case, Ana touched his shoulder.

  “Herald,” she said. “We need you here.”

  “I’ll do it,” Jon exclaimed. Herald knew Jon couldn’t, but Jon didn't. And he didn’t have time to explain. He had grown a full heart, or procrastinated, one or the other, but never told Jon what the cleansing had done to him—to humanity.

  “It will only work for us, Jon. I’m sorry.” He turned to Ana. “Ana, you know the feed won’t rise fast enough with your login.”

  “And it won’t with yours either. Not as fast as we need it.” He looked down. Amy was at his feet. He knew it. They had all logged in several times. Amy was the only one, ever, who could lift the feed instantly, sending it straight to full green status. He looked out the front window, then at the magnified section. Q and his group had seconds at most. The swarm was almost upon them and they were getting back into the hole, covering themselves with plywood. There was no time to think. Ana nodded, and Herald returned it with his eyes. He knew it.

  “Me, Daddy,” Amy said with her normal spunky flare and a smile, looking up at him genuinely. She wanted a part, and this was it. And he decided quickly—because he had to. It was the only way.

  “Okay, Aim. You get in there and send that feed right through the roof just like you did at home. Manny is already there, he will be with you.”

  “Piece of cake,” Amy said. “Cheesecake, Daddy—or blueberry.” Herald smiled at her, squeezed her, and kissed her forehead.

  “After this Rafael and I are gonna bake you a hundred cakes, any kind you want!”

  “It’s a deal, Daddy!”

  Herald picked her up. And Jon started the login procedure. Within seconds she was asleep, and just as they’d said, the feed went through the roof, 100%.

  “Launch, Jon. Launch!”

  “They’re booting up now!” Jon replied.

  The hover-jet arrived to the group just as the swarm hit. And it plunged onto them—hard. Herald went to the front. Because of its blocker the ship couldn’t be detected by the machines but he watched dreadfully as the ground below became tinted with red. They were hovering so closely that he could see their bloodied fingers trying to hold the sides of the disintegrating plywood sheets covering the hole.

  Most of the drones weren’t armed, they were simple personal drones, or delivery drones. The majority were tiny, no bigger than a dinner plate, mostly used for personal photography. A few of them were larger, the size of a tractor tire, disc-shaped, painted in matte green or desert camo, clearly military drones, armed with—lasers.

  The newer rotorless drones silently swooped by then held point, floating above, no doubt relaying footage to the rest of the attacking horde—possibly the collective mind of the machines—while the others relentlessly plowed onto it. The first wave was a suicide run, chopping the plywood sheets to bits with their sharp rotors, quickly leaving Q and his group wide open and vulnerable. Inadvertently many slammed into the mountain-peak’s small metal solar tower planted directly beside their pit. They made a range of high and low pitched pinging sounds. Dust clouded the air, which obscured their view, but red could be seen. It sprayed outward, misting the air, painting the ground about the pit. And there were screams.

  A moment later the attackers ceased their violent barrage and bypassed the area. They sped by and rose into the air, reforming their mass shape into a ring that began to orbit a band of four military drones. The big ones had been waiting patiently, as if they’d done this before, already well practiced on the citizens in the ravaged city below. They moved in to inspect the remains. Ana jerked her head to the side as the clearing revealed carnage. The back of one had been sliced to ribbons. The other was blended apart from the front as though his belly had merged with a boat propeller. The lifeless carcasses were piled together in one blobbing mass, a red rib-salad. The whole area was a mess of blood spatter and wood splinters, encircled by flippi
ng, jerking, still buzzing, mostly broken drones. A few attempted to fly but rolled off the mountain.

  The ring above, still stocked with thousands, millions so it looked, orbited eerily as the military drones commanded the center. They were preparing to fire—the lasers! A charge of red light grew on their underbellies, sparking outward to their rounded edges.

  The bodies moved. One clump fell to the side. Only two were dead! Q had a team of five, which included two strong men for protection. The men who’d stayed on top of the others had sacrificed themselves. Herald’s eyes opened wide when he saw three still alive.

  “Where’s our—”

  They blasted out from the ship! Jaws dropped when the team inside the hover-jet saw ten buzzers work together in a pattern that sliced the four military drones in half. One exploded so violently it damaged a buzzer in the process, sending it crashing down the slope. There were nine left but Herald knew the downed buzzer had a good chance of returning. All were equipped with Rafael’s new, yet not fully tested, auto-repair capability. The swarm lost shape as the buzzers flew in but reformed quickly, curling into the air, sinuating, snakelike.

  The red-and-black acrobatic jumpers quickly made it to the exposed group, providing them cover. They danced above Q and his group with such speed their motions became a blur, forming a protective, nearly translucent dome. Q pulled himself from under the large body that was mutilated above him and the other two helped him out of the hole. As they jostled one of the bodies to pull him from under it, the innards fell out, sloshing down on top of the other poor fellow like a pile of yellowish-red, brownish-grey worms. Ana winced at the ghastly sight.

  The swarm returned, largely ignoring the buzzers, uncurling into a double stream that would hit this time—from two sides! The remaining nine buzzers zipped with a speed the drones couldn’t emulate and split up, plunging into the attacking sides. The popping was fireworks of all colors as batteries exploded by the hundred. But, the swarm was so capacious, containing thousands more, and many made it through. They collided with the jumpers’ protective dome—in vain, every single one crashed and fell. Q stood with arms straight at his side, rotating his head, dumbfounded by what was happening around him. His once neat little mini-tuxedo was drenched in blood. And he continued in this manner, curiously, with an irritated look, until he spotted the ship through the fast motion of the jumpers; it was close, hovering with a quiet whistle like that of a focused breeze.

  A young woman wearing a blood-soaked dress and another scientist Herald was expecting took a stand on each side of the short Mr. Q. They looked like family from the distance, and all three marveled at the dome of acrobats above them, and the war taking place around them—then Q took a single short step. The jumpers, and the shield they maintained, moved as he did. And drones continued their bombardment, uselessly, flopping away as trash.

  “Jay, spin us around and set the open bay door on the edge of the mountaintop. Right, there.” Herald pointed to the spot. “Hover steady while we get ’em in.”

  “Will do, Herald.” Jay descended the ship while rotating it 180 degrees simultaneously. As they lowered, disturbing the dust, albeit slightly, it alerted the swarm—an invisible presence. The drones, numbers reduced by half, couldn’t see it but reacted just the same and spread out, creating a flat horizontal plane. Each held an even distance from the other, and the plane, like a blanket, lowered. The wind had picked up significantly and the blanket was wavelike.

  The jumpers and the three survivors were quickly neglected. The layer of drones came down and many pinged the hull of the ship, stopping dead on it. Each drone coordinated a position of the hit, and as well as could be done, remained on the hull—highlighting the hover-jet. They’d been found out!

  Herald ran to the back and stood near Jerry as the ship swung into position. They had to squint to see. The odorous wind increased in velocity as if the world was being vacuumed eastward, and they held tight as dry desert dust packed their eye sockets. Herald pulled a blocker from his pocket showing it to Jerry, pointing to mode #2. Jerry pulled his and they both clicked the devices on.

  “Vlad, Hal, stay here and guard the door!” Herald yelled over the roar of the wind. “Don’t let anything come aboard.”

  “Except us,” Jerry said.

  Jon turned his head. Always a joker, he thought with half a smirk, then continued assisting the buzzers with critical targets.

  “Let’s get ’em!” Herald yelled. And he jumped with Jerry, out of the ship. It was still a few feet above the ground so they tucked and rolled. Now, Jay was having trouble holding position as the wind was gusting at 50 mph and steadily increasing. But it didn’t stop Herald and Jerry. They ran for Q and his assistants, forearms raised to shield their eyes.

  Then he saw it. Jerry noticed what was coming down onto them. “Herald look!” he said. Another group of eight military drones were fighting the wind, heading their way from the east.

  “We’re gonna make it, just get ’em!” Herald replied, yelling at the top of his lungs. He was flat-out determined.

  They made it to the group. The jumpers changed their pattern, temporarily making an entrance portal. It closed as soon as they entered and the dome expanded to cover the five of them. Tall Jerry kept his head low because he saw the sharp knives that had ejected from the now porcupine-like acrobatic wonders. After a courteous nod to the bloody damsel in distress, he picked her up and cradled her. She looked small in his arms and was crying uncontrollably. Her tears washed the blood from her face in streaks; blowing dust made the streaks muddy brown.

  “Run!” Herald yelled.

  The tall, lanky scientist was trying to hear Herald but being outside had become akin to standing next to a jet engine at peak throttle—nevertheless he got the message. And it became horribly obvious he was injured. A large flap dangled from the back of his head, revealing his skull. Like ribbons on a warehouse fan, his skin fluttered violently in the now 60-mph wind. The incessant barrage of drones had chopped a sticky situation right into the entire back of his noggin, but he hadn’t even noticed! The adrenaline surge wouldn’t allow it, survival mode supercharged! His scalp was blowing east with the wind like a war-torn sail. Sand coated his unfortunate skull and the flaps were blackened sandpaper. An experienced hunter who’d skinned his fair share of kills, even Jerry turned away at the sight. But they couldn’t tell him, not yet.

  Like steel balls of hail, drones continued to ping the top of the ship, cleverly pinpointing it. The swarm outlined its shape and reformed much of its arsenal into a new snake, heading straight for the aft, and its open ramp door. The buzzers made their own in-flight snake, having had learned from the drones themselves. They took into the oncoming nuisance, managing to obliterate many. But now, both sides were having trouble fighting the wind.

  Felix unclipped from his seat and went to the back with the bots. He connected to a safety line, ready to offer any assistance he could. Vlad was fumbling, missing every other one he swiped at. He was too large; it wasn’t his forte. Nimble and agile Hal swatted the most. But soon, even Felix managed to bat a few with his aluminum rod. Like flies, there was almost no way to destroy them all but the now violent winds were helping, blowing them away.

  And the buzzer that had fallen was back! Its spinning blades hadn’t been able to auto-repair but it afforded Jon a new vantage point in the sky. He was able to use the view to suggest alternate maneuvers and tactics. He was collaborating with the buzzers as if he himself was one and suggested a funnel-like pattern to catch the incomers and focus them toward demise. The success of the clever tactic obliterated much of the swarm and the remaining drones bounced off the hover-jet in a final barrage of dings. The wind was sucking the rest away and even the inbound military drones couldn’t overcome it.

  The team on the ground had trouble getting a step against the wind, but almost there. They were ten feet from the open bay of the ship when the ground started to shake. Caught in the surprise, Jerry’s knees buckled, the scientis
t tripped, both stumbling as it unbalanced them. Herald and Q pushed on and made it safely inside.

  The earth was shaking so violently Jay had to lift the ship’s bay door off the ground because it was reverberating into the ship. He tried to hold it about a foot above but swayed as the wind became even stronger. 75 mph. Setting the ship on the west end of the peak was a stroke of luck—it blocked the wind to a degree. But any luck they had was dwindling fast, being preternaturally vacuumed away!

  Jerry managed to get back onto a knee then thrust himself up with the young woman still cradled and clinging to him. He lowered an arm toward the scientist and they managed a solid lock. And they forced two steps, but getting another would take all they had. Then Hal leapt out like a cheetah and took the woman. His strength and agility enabled him to leap back into the ship with her held tightly in his arms. At last, Jerry and the scientist fell onto the ramp, crawling together just to get an inch closer. No man left behind! Felix reached for the scientist and Vlad reached to Jerry. They made it! Herald slapped the button to close the door. Sounds were once again quiet inside but it would be awhile before their adrenaline surges abated. They all dropped to the floor and slumped against the walls, looking at one another.

  Jay turned right and hovered north, HOME!

  And then they saw it, something far worse than a billion drones.

  105. The Storm

  The base of it inhaled flame and smoke with the power of a billion fasting meth sniffers. A sea of flames became thin incandescent paste coating city and desert, until finally being extinguished by the intensifying ground-level winds feeding it. The base of the oncoming wall. A sucking, vacuuming, black nightmare. City buses rolled like logs down a hill. Some flipped end over end, some were bullets. Houses and buildings were reduced to toothpicks. A military water-tower bounced a couple of times then hugged the earth like a bowling ball before exploding to pieces. And a miles-high tsunami of black earth headed their way, fast!