I Am Automaton 2: Kafka Rising

by Edward P. Cardillo

  “You don’t know that,” Carl said.

  “If the Outworlders wanted to destroy us, they’d come and do it themselves,” she said. “They wouldn’t need you to go through all of this. If they are advanced enough to create Retinal Gateway Technology, then they’d be able to do their own dirty work.”

  Carl thought about this. She had a point. Maybe his imagination was running wild. “None of this makes any sense to me.”

  “That is because you are going to have to redefine yourself. You are no longer Carl. You choose what you are to become. Circumstances insinuated themselves into your life, but now you decide what to do with it.”

  “You want me to change my name...”

  “Belmont did it. I did it. It’s a new beginning.”

  “What about Night Crawler?”

  “He’s an ass,” she said. “He’s not one of us. He’s a mercenary. You are special.”

  Carl thought about this. He really wasn’t the biggest fan of Carl Birdsall, the geeky student who lived in his parents’ house, or the Sergeant demoted below his big brother despite unbelievable acts of heroism.

  “Kafka,” he said sardonically.

  “I see you haven’t lost your sense of humor,” she said.

  “When do we go for my father?”

  “In a few days. We have to strike while they are still looking for your body.”

  “You mean before they realize that I’m not dead.”

  “Exactly.”

  Yvette got up and stepped over him to the door. “Good night, Kafka.”

  “One more thing…”

  “Yes?”

  “Were you really attracted to me at the bar, or was that all part of the act?”

  She smiled. “You mean you cannot tell?” He felt her heartbeat accelerate.

  He knew.

  Chapter 12

  Guantanamo Bay Detention Facility

  Two Days Later

  22:09 HRS

  “Increase patrol along the perimeter,” Captain Fiona London ordered. “I want an inspection of all motion detectors and security cameras.”

  “With all due respect, ma’am, we’ve inspected them already.”

  “Well do it again, Lieutenant McCall.”

  “Don’t you think we need to run this past Major Lyons?”

  “Are you questioning a direct order, Lieutenant?”

  “No, ma’am. I’ll have it done.”

  Fiona hadn’t slept in days. She was saddened by the news of Carl’s termination. She understood the decision, but something inside of her made her feel uneasy. The nightmares intensified, but she ascribed it to her exposure to what she saw when using the RGT on Carl. Poor Carl.

  She remembered how goofy he looked at Frisky’s the night she went to meet Peter. He went from awkward and bookish to strong and brave…and then something else entirely. Poor bastard.

  Then there was Peter. The poor guy was one hundred percent hero. He had to witness losing two units, his mother and brother—hell, they didn’t even find Carl’s body yet—and his father was rotting in a cell in this place like a terrorist.

  Then there was the RGT. Betancourt relayed orders from General Ramses to green light RGT for expanded use in anticipation of the passage of the Second Patriot Act. This meant that every television, mini-com, and computer screen was going to be connected to RGT. No civilians were going to know about it, and it was all going to be legal.

  “Ma’am.”

  “What is it now, McCall?” She saw the look on her face. “What’s wrong, Lieutenant?”

  “It’s the drones in Camp X-Ray, ma’am.”

  Her skin went cold. “What about the drones, Lieutenant?”

  “They’re…restless ma’am.”

  “Restless? What do you mean—?”

  “They’re struggling against the restraints, ma’am. If we don’t do something, they’re going to get loose.”

  “What about the Amygdala Inhibitor Kill Switches?”

  “They aren’t working,” the Lieutenant said in horror. “They’re all on, but they’re not immobilizing the drones.”

  “We’re going to have to put them down. Has Major Lyons been informed?”

  “Yes, ma’am. He has. He wants you to report to his office immediately.”

  “I have to get Betancourt on the horn.”

  “He’s already working on that, ma’am.”

  “How many drones?”

  “Five hundred, ma’am.”

  Jesus. She had no idea there were that many.

  “I’m off,” she said. “Place a heavy security detail outside the drone containment facility.”

  “Yes, ma’am. The Major already ordered it.”

  The shit was about to hit the fan. After they had flipped the kill switch on Carl and put the Infantry Drone Program on hiatus, there hadn’t been enough time to determine what to do with all the leftover drones.

  Did they sense that Carl was gone? Did they somehow know? Her mind raced, but she forced herself to focus on the situation at hand. Speculation was a luxury she couldn’t afford.

  As she stalked down the hallway towards Major Lyons’ office, passing through locked security checkpoints, she heard the alarm sound outside. She reached his office and stood in front of the retinal scan. There was a tone and the door opened.

  She entered, removed her headgear, and saluted the Major, who was behind his desk on a call with Colonel Betancourt.

  “We need permission to put them down, sir,” he said with urgency. “If they breach the perimeter of Camp X-ray, we’re going to have a real problem.”

  Camp X-Ray was mostly a containment facility. There were a few squat bungalows, one containing the RGT, and a series of fenced-in cages with flat roofs and barbed wire. The perimeter was a tall fence with barbed wire and four guard towers, one at each corner.

  “I don’t know how this happened, sir…no the Amydala Inhibitor master kill switch isn’t working…yes, sir…I understand.” He hung up the phone.

  “Captain London reporting, sir.”

  Major Lyons nodded in acknowledgment. “We can dispense with the formalities, Captain. We’re on the verge of a full-scale undead riot.”

  “Did the Colonel grant permission to put them down?” she asked.

  “Affirmative. But we have to move fast. They’re already at the perimeter.”

  “That was fast,” she said aghast.

  “They’re moving with a purpose,” Major Lyons confirmed.

  It was only an expression, but perhaps Lyons was right. “You know, they only mobilized like this when Carl Birdsall was directing them.”

  “But he’s dead now, Captain.”

  “They haven’t yet found a body, sir.”

  “It’s inevitable,” Lyons said. “There was no way he could have survived the kill chip in his head.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I want you to take a small security detail around the perimeter of Camp X-Ray to the back, to the bungalow housing the RGT.”

  “Sir?”

  “If we’re going to have a bunch of zombies running loose on the grounds, we need to secure the RGT. I want it moved into the prison facility. In here, we can withstand an onslaught for some time while we put the drones down.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Get moving, Captain. We don’t have much time.”

  Fiona barged into her office with Lieutenant McCall and ten fully armed soldiers. She opened her armory cabinet and grabbed two automatic assault rifles, handing one to McCall.

  “We need a truck and some tools,” she ordered McCall.

  “I’m on it,” she replied and called downstairs on her mini-com.

  “All right,” she said to the small detail, “we have to creep around the perimeter while avoiding drawing the attention of the drones. Watch the friendly fire once we’re on foot. The guard towers will be shooting anything moving on the ground. I need to remove the RGT motherboard and the retinal interface.”

  They all nodded in co
nfirmation.

  “McCall, do we have the truck and tools?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Let’s move.”

  They drove out of one of the vehicle bays of the prison, and the security door lowered behind them and locked into place. McCall was driving, Fiona was riding shotgun, and the security detail was in the back.

  “Kill the headlights,” Fiona ordered.

  McCall killed the headlights and slowly crept around the perimeter of Camp X-Ray, giving it a wide berth. In the dark, the camp had an eerie look. There were orange jumpsuits staggering around in the moonlight, faces hidden in the shadows, but eyes glowing like cats eyes by the light of the moon and the occasional spotlight. There were squads of soldiers along the perimeter opening fire on the drones. The drones were at the external fence, rocking it back and forth.

  “They all seem to be heading out the front of the camp towards the prison,” said Fiona.

  As they crept towards the rear of Camp X-Ray, the drones’ numbers appeared to thin out. Fiona saw the dark outlines of the bungalows.

  “Pull around the back,” she instructed McCall.

  McCall stopped the truck behind the back end of the fence. She was going to turn off the ignition, but Fiona touched her hand. “Keep the engine running.” McCall nodded.

  Fiona exited the truck with toolbox in hand. The small security detail piled out of the back of the truck.

  “Okay, Obermeyer, breach the fence with the cutters. The rest of you, two-by-two column formation. We need to get to the third bungalow. Keep your eyes peeled for drones. Let’s move.”

  They crossed the dirt and low brush to the fence, and Obermeyer used the cutter to cut a vertical line through the chain links. She pulled it apart and they filed in. On the other side, they went into formation and began to sneak around the first bungalow.

  Fiona was at the rear of the formation. She strained her eyes and ears for drones. All appeared quiet. They were passing around the second bungalow. Still quiet. Fiona hoped that maybe this was going to be easy. They reached the third bungalow.

  She came to the front of the formation and produced her mini-com. She disengaged the digi-lock and she went to open the door. Obermeyer stopped her. “We need to clear it, ma’am.”

  Fiona nodded. The detail breached the bungalow in column formation. “All clear,” said Obermeyer from inside. Fiona entered and saw the large RGT apparatus. She flicked on the lights, crossed the room quickly, and put her toolbox down in front of the RGT. She put down her rifle and knelt to open the toolbox.

  “I need one of you to help me with the retinal interface. It’s delicate.”

  Fowler stepped forward. “I’ll do it.”

  “Okay,” Fiona said, “grab the interface here and hold it while I separate it from the rest of the apparatus. Don’t let it fall.”

  Fowler nodded and grabbed the apparatus where Fiona indicated. Fiona took out a socket wrench and got to work.

  “No windows here. Beal and Cleary, I want eyes outside. One on the roof and one on the ground,” Obermeyer ordered. They nodded and stepped outside. “The rest of you, cover the front and back doors.” They all moved into position.

  Fiona disengaged the retinal interface, and Fowler held it gingerly in her hands.

  “Now I have to separate the motherboard and we’re home free,” said Fiona. Fowler stepped back to allow Fiona some room to work.

  Fiona took out a screwdriver and unscrewed the side panel, placing it on the ground next to the machine. Then she took a mini flashlight out of the toolbox and shined it into the unit. She reached in with her right hand and disengaged the motherboard, sliding it out.

  She backed away from the machine. “Okay, we’re good to go.”

  Just then, they heard a thump on the roof and a body sliding off.

  “I’ll check it out,” Obermeyer volunteered. She went to open the door and there were orange jumpsuits everywhere. She slammed the door shut and activated the digi-lock.

  “What is it?” asked Fiona.

  “Jesus, we got drones!”

  ***

  “At approximately 22:00 HRS, Guantanamo Bay reported activity from the drones held in Camp X-Ray,” announced Betancourt. “We are now receiving reports from Major Lyons that they have escaped the confines of the camp and are surrounding the prison facility.”

  “How is this possible?” Peter asked.

  “The drones are no longer responding to the Amygdala Inhibitor master kill switch. We don’t know why. We need to mobilize your unit to lend support in putting the drones down.”

  “With all due respect, Colonel, we don’t have the best record in combating the drones.”

  “If you are referring to the botched mission in Xcaret, there were special circumstances.”

  “Actually, sir, the Navajas cartel fried the AI inhibitors with an EMP. We were overrun.”

  “So you can sympathize with our men at the facility. This time you’ll be flanking the drones, trapping them between you and the facility. Your primary objective will be to secure the RGT housed in a bungalow in Camp X-Ray. Your secondary objective will be to protect the prison facility.”

  Peter thought of his father being held there. “Shouldn’t it be the reverse, sir?”

  “These are orders from General Ramsey, Captain. He’s made protecting the RGT a priority.”

  “We’ll need something better than assault rifles,” Peter said.

  “Grenade launchers, flamethrowers, the works,” Betancourt said. “Your unit will mobilize in fifteen minutes. You should be at GITMO within three hours.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Dismissed.”

  ***

  “What do you mean we got drones?” Fiona asked.

  “We’re surrounded, ma’am,” said Obermeyer. “They’re everywhere.”

  “Check the back.”

  Obermeyer nodded and ran to the back door. She cracked it open and saw more orange jumpsuits. She closed it quickly and re-engaged the digi-lock. “More drones, ma’am!”

  “Why didn’t our spotters warn us?” Fiona asked.

  “They were neutralized quickly, ma’am,” Obermeyer answered.

  Fiona knew what she was getting at. There was no way the drones could’ve gotten the spotter on the roof. “Then the drones aren’t alone. There’s someone coordinating this attack, and they knew we’d come for the RGT.”

  “Which means that they knew that we had the RGT here,” added Obermeyer.

  “It’s Carl Birdsall,” Fiona said.

  “Ma’am?”

  “He knew it was here. Only he could coordinate the drones like this. But he was terminated.”

  Obermeyer looked at her confused. Fiona forgot that she wasn’t cleared for any of that information.

  “I think I know who’s behind this. If I’m right, he’s come for the RGT, and he’s really pissed off at me.”

  Major Lyons’ mini-com flashed with an incoming call. It was from one of the sergeants outside. He took the call. “Yes, Sergeant.”

  “We have taken the bungalow housing the RGT,” said a crackling, inhuman voice on the other end.

  Major Lyons was startled by the voice. He was expecting Sergeant Saragosa. “Who is this?”

  “This is Kafka from the Order for International Liberation.”

  “What do you want?”

  “I do not want the RGT. I am willing to make a trade.”

  “I don’t know about any RGT.”

  “Don’t be stupid, Major.”

  “A trade? For what?”

  “For one of your detainees.”

  “I’m not authorized to make such an exchange,” explained Major Lyons. He then muted his mini-com. “Lieutenant Gauger, get confirmation that the RGT is surrounded.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Major Lyons unmuted the mini-com.

  “We can wait a moment while you obtain confirmation that the RGT is in fact in our custody.”

  “I have to obtain authorizati
on. It’s going to take some time.”

  Lieutenant Gauger came back into Lyons’ office and nodded confirmation.

  “Time is a luxury you don’t have, Major.”

  “How are you doing this?”

  “You have fifteen minutes to give me your answer. If you don’t, we will breach the prison walls and flood it with the undead. They are very eager, Major. They hunger for your flesh.”

  “Listen, I don’t know—”

  Kafka ended the transmission.

  “Gauger, pull the men into the facility. I want snipers on the rooftops and at every window. I need to get Betancourt on the line.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Lyons’ mini-com flashed an incoming call.

  “Captain London, are you all right?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “What is your status?”

  Another voice came on the line. It sounded cold, but human. “We have the RGT in our possession. If you don’t want it taken and your soldiers here executed, you best be working on an answer to Kafka’s trade.” The man on the other end terminated the call.

  Major Lyons contacted Colonel Betancourt and explained the situation in a nutshell.

  “Under no circumstances are you to hand the RGT over to this Kafka. Make the trade. I don’t care who it is. We have a specialized unit with experience in dealing with these drones en route.”

  “He only gave me fifteen minutes,” said Lyons. “Your men won’t be here for—”

  “Another two hours,” said Betancourt. “Stall him. Take your time in setting up the trade. Make him jump through some hoops.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The fifteen minutes were up. Lyons’ mini-com was flashing an incoming message.

  “It’s him, sir. I have to go.”

  He terminated the call with Betancourt and answered the incoming call. “Kafka.”

  “Do you have an answer for me, Major?”

  “We’ll make the trade. But I find it hard to believe that you are going to just give up the RGT just like that.”

  “The detainee I want is much more valuable to me.”

  “How do I know you will actually deliver the RGT?”