AntiBio 2: The Control War

by Jake Bible

  “Yes,” Dr. Charter says. “But we’ll come to that later.”

  “Yes? You say that like it was some minor inconvenience!” Dr. Lopez roars. “I will not stand for this any longer!” He lurches to his feet then quickly sits back down. “No one say a word.”

  “Shamus, be quiet,” Dr. Benz says. “I believe I know exactly why Dr. Charter did what she did. Let her finish.”

  “This will not take much longer,” Dr. Charter says. “So, the canines move before they can get hit by the blast. They do so almost on a preternatural level. Now, let’s see a different feed.”

  Dr. Charter pulls out the tape and inserts another one. It shows a line of sick mutts, their bodies scorched and broken, but still standing. They are backed up to the edge of a cliff. The view is partially obscured by a few members of Coffin Squad, but it is still easy enough to see the canines.

  “What are they doing?” Dr. Whittaker asks. “Are they not going to fight back?”

  “Rooting for my canines, Gordon?” Dr. Lopez asks.

  “Hardly,” Dr. Whittaker replies. “It just seems out of character for the canines to give up.”

  One of the sick mutts takes a step back, flinging itself off the edge of the cliff.

  “Lord, have mercy,” Dr. Whittaker whispers. “They killed themselves.”

  “They did,” Dr. Charter says. “Which is counter to ever law of nature. It is also counter to the protocol you instilled in your canines, isn’t that correct, Dr. Lopez?”

  “Correct,” Dr. Lopez replies, stunned by the video. “If anything, my protocol should have made them fight harder. But, as I said earlier, I have not released any canines into the Sicklands with the full protocol.”

  “No, you haven’t,” Dr. Charter agrees. “But Dr. Benz has.”

  “Very true,” Dr. Benz responds. All eyes turn on him, shocked. “Dr. Charter seems to have things figured out, so I thought it best to just admit what I have done.”

  “Care to save me some time and admiteverything you have done?” Dr. Charter asks. “And everything you are doing to fix it?”

  “I don’t think so,” Dr. Benz replies. “I’ll allow you your big reveal, Dr. Charter.”

  “Fine,” Dr. Charter nods. “Do you gentlemen know why I am so adamant that my investigations stay out of the system?”

  “So you would not get caught,” Dr. Lopez says. “I am afraid to say that you have failed there.”

  “Not getting caught by my colleagues was not as important as not getting caught by Dr. Benz’s secret project,” Dr. Charter says. “You see, gentlemen, Dr. Benz not only released some of Dr. Lopez’s canines into the Sicklands, he also tested their cerebral uplinks using a new AiSP protocol he created.”

  “You don’t know what you are talking about,” Dr. Benz says.

  “You released the canines into the Sicklands, activated the AiSP in hopes that it could communicate with the canines and control them,” Dr. Charter says. “Instead, it overloaded the uplink, sent random intelligence into the AiSP, and created what Dr. Whittaker has called the Other for some time now. Do I still not know what I am talking about?”

  “No, you know what you are talking about,” Dr. Benz replies, surprising everyone. “But you left out one key step.”

  “And what is that?” Dr. Charter asks.

  “You left out how I have been trying to fix this problem,” Dr. Benz says. “While the GenSOF and GenWreck operators were in Control, their AiSP, the one they call Worm, was in the system. I pushed it to a new level so it is now more sentient than any AiSP before it.”

  “Isn’t that compounding the problem?” Dr. Sheffield gasps. “Now there are two dangerous AiSPs out there!”

  “No, Worm is not dangerous,” Dr. Benz says. “Worm is exactly what we need to fix my mistake. Just like Sergeant Crouch is what we need to fix Dr. Charter’s mistake.”

  “My mistake?” Dr. Charter asks. “And what is that?”

  “Letting your child live,” Dr. Benz says. “Do you really think Dr. Lopez’s bacteria is the danger out there? Do you think that is why the AiSP changed and became what it is, turning into the Other that is gaining full control over the canines and the samples? No, Dr. Charter, all of that came from the new Strain that your son was born with. A Strain that has spread through the Sicklands, infecting every single living creature that is not GenSOF or a GenWreck. All of those bug hounds, all of the samples, everything is infected. This is on you, Dr. Charter. Not me. I’m just trying to clean it all up.”

  7

  “That door gonna hold?” Hoagie asks, his back against the cold metal of the bunker entryway’s wall. He looks from the barred door to Jude who is busy trying to get the internal entry door to the bunker open. “It sounds like half the Sicklands are out there trying to get in.”

  “Leave the kid alone, Hoag,” Milo snaps. “Let him concentrate.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” Jude says, his fingers moving rapidly from one wire to the next as he sorts through the mess that is the entry door’s control panel. “Talk all you want, you can’t distract me. I was raised by GenWrecks. I’m a better operator than both of you combined.”

  The door slides open and Jude smiles then gives Hoagie a wink.

  “Smart ass,” Hoagie says as Milo helps him to his feet.

  The bug hounds all sit at attention, their black eyes focused on the outer door.

  “Ajax. In,” Jude orders.

  The huge bug hound grunts then turns and trots inside the bunker, the rest of the bug hounds on his tail.

  “Why do I get the feeling our canine units are no longer under our control?” Milo asks.

  “It’s not about control anymore,” Jude says. “They know the score, they see what life is like out here. They are following Ajax because Ajax knows how to survive the Sicklands. That’s how they will keep you safe which is their number one priority. Would you rather have them completely obedient or completely loyal? There is a difference, you know.”

  “Shit, kid,” Milo laughs. “How old are you? Thirty?”

  Jude just shrugs and leads them all inside the bunker as the door slides closed behind them. The hallway is dark and dank with water stains colored by rust streaking the walls. The place smells of must and dirt, not of safety and life.

  “The question is how old is this bunker?” Hoagie asks. “I’m guessing this place wasn’t exactly used a lot.”

  “It’s a last resort spot,” Jude says. “Normally, we aren’t out this deep in the Sicklands. We rarely use this bunker unless we absolutely have to. It’s why I was having trouble with the door. Half the systems are offline.”

  “Great,” Hoagie says. “You brought us to the slum bunker. Nice.”

  “Better than half the spots in the Burn,” Milo says.

  “When have you been in the Burn?” Hoagie asks. “Operators aren’t allowed out of the GenSOF tower.”

  “I wasn’t always an operator,” Milo replies. “I did have a childhood.”

  “Lucky you,” Jude says, pointing to a sealed hatch. “Food should be in there.”

  “Where are you going?” Milo asks as Jude starts walking away.

  “See if I can get the radio working,” Jude replies. “We need to contact my dad and the others. If I can’t find them then I have to report in to one of the bases. We’re going to need help getting out of here with all those cooties and sick mutts outside.” There’s a loud clang and everyone turns to face the sealed entry door. “See? They will eventually get through that outer door. I know cooties and I know sick mutts. They don’t stop.”

  “Kid, you said they’d eventually go away,” Hoagie growls. “That we would be able to leave once the coast is clear.”

  “I lied,” Jude sneers. “You seemed like you might panic. That would have slowed us down.”

  Milo starts laughing then covers his mouth and tries to stifle it. “Sorry, sorry,” he says as Hoagie gives him a death glare. “It’s just that the kid’s kind of right.”

  “Screw y
ou fuckers,” Hoagie says and limps to the supply hatch. He cranks the handle and pushes the hatch open. There’s a distinct rustling sound then silence. “You hear that?”

  The bug hounds all move to the hatch, hackles raised, growls low in their throats.

  Milo and Hoagie snap out their rifles and take aim, their eyes locked onto the dark room beyond the hatch.

  “Tequila. Snorts. Clear the room,” Milo orders.

  The two bug hounds move cautiously into the supply room, their pitch black bodies lost to the shadows instantly. The operators wait outside, rifles at the ready. Two loud barks, a screech, then the sound of crates being shoved aside and falling to the ground ends the waiting.

  “Move in,” Milo says as he snaps a glow light and tosses it into the room then rushes in after.

  “Fuck you,” Hoagie says, his legs barely holding his weight. He leans against the threshold of the hatch. “Call out what you see.”

  “A mess,” Milo says. “And a hole. Check this out.”

  Hoagie looks over at Jude who is just standing there, his eyes wide and fearful.

  “We should seal the hatch,” Jude says. “It could be vermin.”

  “Vermin?” Hoagie asks. “Kid, nothing lives in the Sicklands anymore. There are no vermin.”

  “You assume too much,” Jude says then nods at the supply room. “Go have a look. Just watch your asses. I’m going to find the radio room.”

  Jude turns and walks off with Ajax and Zeus on his heels. The GenSOF bug hounds remain behind. Munch and Gorge look up at Hoagie and whimper.

  “Come on,” Hoagie says as he limps into the room, one hand holding his rifle while the other holds onto the wall for support. “Let’s prove the little shit wrong.”

  Milo is standing in the middle of the medium-sized room, his rifle sweeping back and forth as he looks for threats.

  “This is a mess,” Hoagie says as he looks at the broken open crates and empty rations cartons strewn about. “Stinks too. What the hell is that smell?”

  “Shit and piss,” Milo says. He activates a light at the end of his rifle and aims it at the floor. “Did the kid say there was vermin around here?”

  “That’s what he said,” Hoagie replies. “But have you ever seen any vermin in the Sicklands? Other than the cooties, I mean?”

  “I’ve never seen a living thing anywhere out in this hell,” Milo says. “Doesn’t mean there isn’t any. Plenty of places to hide.”

  “What the hell shit is that?” Hoagie asks as he looks down at the floor. “Not canine shit, that’s for sure.”

  “I don’t know,” Milo replies, the toe of his boot nudging a small pile of feces. “Looks like bird poop.”

  “When have you seen bird poop?” Hoagie asks.

  “Man, you need to read a book every once in a while,” Milo sighs. “There’s a whole world of information just waiting for you to discover.”

  “You sound like a fucking librarian,” Hoagie says. “So, Mr. Literate, how could it be bird poop if there are no birds? What else looks like bird poop?”

  “Not a clue,” Milo says. He aims his rifle at the wall and shakes his head. “But it isn’t small, I can say that.”

  There’s a good-sized hole in the wall, just big enough for a bug hound to slip through. Tequila and Snorts are standing by it, their noses working overtime as they waft the scents coming from inside. Milo moves closer to the hole, but both dogs turn and growl, warning him off.

  “Maybe we should do what the kid said and seal this room back up,” Hoagie says. “The food’s gone anyway.”

  “Yeah, sounds like a good idea,” Milo nods, backing away from the hole. “We should also scout this bunker. Check for more holes.”

  “Great,” Hoagie says. “Just great.” They slowly back out of the supply room. “I fucking hate the Sicklands.”

  8

  Transport Eighteen comes to an abrupt halt as Nick powers the vehicle down. Everyone stops what they are doing and looks up at the view screen.

  “Shit,” Red says. “Where the hell did they come from?”

  “Worm? Any reason your scanners didn’t pick them up?” Ton asks as he stares at the image before him. “That’s three trannies headed right for us, Worm. Kind of hard to miss.”

  “My apologies, Lieutenant,” Worm replies. “But since I am no longer sat connected, I cannot utilize all resources that were at my disposal before. The transports are shielding themselves from simple scans and unfortunately I am only equipped with simple scan capabilities.”

  “We’ve put some distance between us and the cooties, but they’re still on our tail,” Blaze says from the rear observation station. He points at his view screen and the far off shapes lurching after the transport. “Fuckers won’t give up.”

  “Numbers?” Ton asks.

  “They’ve found some friends,” Blaze says. “Four dozen, maybe more.”

  “Over fifty cooties behind and three trannies in front,” Marco sighs. “Kill the sick or fight the healthy. Not much of a choice.”

  “So, at least fifty sick back there,” Collette says. “How many hostiles do you think are ahead? One squad per tranny? That’s fifteen operators, if we’re lucky.”

  “Fifty cooties are better than fifteen operators,” Paulo says. “Just adding my two cents.”

  “Get us around,” Red says. “Head west.”

  Nick looks over at Red and frowns. “Come on, Red, we can’t go overland in this quadrant. Too many fissures and sink holes. You know that.”

  “If we go back to fight through the cooties, we’ll still have three trannies coming for us,” Red counters. “If we try to take on three trannies, with a GenSOF squad apiece, then we still have fifty cooties behind us. The best thing we can do is run. We’ll lose some of the cooties to the landscape; the idiots fall in sink holes all the time. And the GenSOF squads don’t know this quadrant worth a shit. Right, Ton?”

  “No, this quadrant isn’t anywhere near normal courier routes,” Ton nods. “We’d be lost in five seconds out here.”

  “But the trannies have sat connected AiSPs,” Blaze says. “They can navigate way better than we can. No offense, Worm.”

  “None taken, Sergeant Crouch,” Worm replies. “But I am not sure you are correct. AiSPs can navigate via satellite, but the Sicklands are not easily traversed that way. It is one reason courier class squads were created with secure routes established and strictly adhered to. The terrain lies, Sergeant.”

  “Good thing we have the best driver out here,” Red says, clapping Nick on the shoulder. “He can spot those lies better than any AiSP.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far,” Nick sighs.

  “Nor would I,” Worm concurs. “An Ai protocol can process data infinitely faster than—”

  “Worm? Shut the fuck up,” Ton says. “We all know you’re smarter.”

  “Why aren’t the transports attacking?” Jersey asks. “They have to know who we are and there is no way Control hasn’t marked us as enemies. So why aren’t they coming for us?”

  “They need us for something,” Ton says. “They either want Red and his people to interrogate or they want Blaze and whatever bugs are in his guts.”

  “Probably both,” Red says. “They’ll capture and contain first then kill only as a last resort.”

  “Then we have the advantage,” Jersey says. “They want us alive. We should stay right here. Not go anywhere.”

  The operators all turn and look at her like she’s crazy.

  “What?” she asks. “If those transports want us alive then wouldn’t it be better to let the cooties catch up? I’m willing to bet the transports will engage the cooties to keep them from overwhelming us. Once they engage then we head west over land. The transports will be occupied with the cooties and the cooties will be busy dying because of the transports.”

  “It is a sound plan,” Worm says. “A dangerous plan with a high likelihood of failure, but it is the better of the options before us.”

  �
�The better of the options has a high likelihood of failure?” Collette asks. “This is why I don’t miss having an AiSP in my ear all the time. They just end up fucking with your confidence.”

  “That is not my intention, Operator Collette,” Worm says. “I was merely—”

  “She knows, Worm,” Ton says. “She was just venting.” He looks around at the operators then turns to Red. “So?”

  “We sit and wait,” Red says. “Nick? Plot our course and be ready to punch it the hell out of here on my mark, go it?”

  “Got it,” Nick nods as he adjusts his controls and studies the terrain to the west. “Hey, Paulo? You want to drive?”

  “It’s all you, man,” Paulo laughs. “But if you start to nod off, let me know.”

  “Ha. Funny,” Nick scowls.

  9

  “Three more holes,” Milo says as he walks into the radio room and closes the door behind him. “A shit ton of shit, too.”

  The room is crammed full with the bug hounds, Hoagie, Jude, Milo, and the radio equipment. The place smells like sweat and dog.

  “What the hell are these vermin, kid?” Milo asks Jude as the boy continues to fiddle with knobs and dials on the radio panel. “Are they insects? Rodents? What?”

  “Sort of,” Jude replies dismissively. “Maybe with some reptile thrown in. My dad says they mutated from some failed experiment. Something the Clean Nation sent out to control the cootie population. They didn’t get Control’s approval and it turned out bad. They are rarely a problem and usually keep to themselves.” Jude glances over his shoulder at Milo and frowns. “Unless their nests are disturbed.”

  “And that’s what we’re doing, isn’t it? Disturbing their nests?” Milo asks.

  “Great,” Hoagie grumbles as he sits on the floor surrounded by bug hounds. “We can add pissing off vermin to our list of accomplishments.”

  “No, they nest in the walls. Burrow as deep and dark as possible,” Jude says. “They only come out to feed. If they’ve been living off the ration packets then they shouldn’t be hungry yet. There was enough food in there to feed an army.”