by T. R. Harris
So, the computer doesn’t want to die. That’s good to know, Zac thought. If they did manage to get aboard the Zanzibar, Amber would do everything she could to preserve her own existence, which would have the ancillary effect of keeping him and Angus alive. Then he frowned. Bringing the REVs aboard the ship is what would place her existence in jeopardy. How far would the AI go to protect herself in that case?
“What about just a wild race back into space?” Zac asked. “Is that something you could pull off without a lot of risk?”
“Within this system is the largest concentration of Human military ever assembled. I could possibly reach space, but then I would have to avoid hundreds of military vessels.”
“But would they all be after us? I can see how a ship zipping around within the atmosphere could be taken as a possible terrorist threat, but what if one was just trying to get away? Very few people would know why we’re trying to escape, and I doubt all the ships in orbit would be put on alert and change their orders to stop us. There’s just too much shit happening in the system for them to be concerned about one tiny starship.”
There was that hesitation again. By now, Amber should have figured a million different scenarios and come to the most logical conclusion.
“That would be possible, however it would involve you coming to me, and not the other way around.”
“If you insist, Amber,” Zac said. “Get the engines primed for a quick getaway.”
“What are you going to do?”
Zac looked at Angus and both men grinned. “We’re going to do what REVs usually do.”
“You are going to kill hundreds of beings?”
Zac recoiled. “No. We’re going to break things.”
26
The security detail arrived back at the building a few minutes later. Some entered the observation room, armed with powerful electro-shock sticks as well as heavy-caliber combat rifles. There was a door next to the window and Zac heard the electronic lock disengage. The main door to the room opened next and six heavily-armed and armored Army Rangers entered, cradling CQC weapons pressed against their cheeks and aimed squarely at the heads of the REVs. They knew what they were up against. Even though Zac and Angus weren’t activated, the soldiers still gave them a lot of respect.
“Stand up, arms together, out in front!” one of the Rangers commanded.
Zac and Angus obeyed. With well-practiced expertise, the troops moved in and placed shiny metal handcuffs around their wrists and shackles on their ankles. Another chain was attached to both the ankle and wrists and pulled tight, making it impossible for the REVs to lift their arms or walk more than a few inches, and only forward and back.
Flanking guards took them by their arms and perp-walked the pair out of the room, down the hall and out through the front door of the building. Military and civilians alike had been cleared from the transfer area, although many could see the REVs from a distance. To the person, there was worry on their faces. Word had gotten out that REVs were being taken into custody, the notorious Zac Murphy and Angus Price. What worried the spectators most was what would the REVs do next?
The answer was nothing.
Through eye contact, the men decided that survival was their first priority, and only by getting off the base would they have the best chance of meeting that prerequisite. General Smith would come later, if at all. There had to be another way of getting the information they needed without invading the strongest Human military stronghold in the galaxy. It had been worth a try, but now it was time for Plan B.
The only problem, they didn’t have a Plan B.
Through a pouring rain, the REVs were assisted into the back of a military van and placed on metal seats. Another chain was attached to their shackles and locked into a thick metal ring bolted to the floor. All six of the guards from the conference room entered the back, four sitting across from the REVs while the other two served as bookends on the seat next to them.
Moments later, the van moved, its electric motor humming. There were no windows in the back of the van, not even through the rear doors, so they had to guess where they were going. As the Zanzibar was landing, Zac noticed that the military base didn’t have a runway, although several VTOL craft dotted the area. If he and Angus were to be immediately flown off the planet to meet an Antaere ship, it would have to be from the spaceport, which would require the van to leave the base.
Both REVs had been cascading during the ride to the base. Now their enhanced memory provided detailed information on the route back to the port. A few minutes later, after a brief stop at the main gate, the van was on the road linking the base with the spaceport.
“Do you think we could stop and get something to eat?” Angus asked with a cheeky grin. “I haven’t eaten all day and I’m famished.”
“Me, too,” Zac said. “Anything will do. There have to be some fast-food places around here. After all, Humans have been on Crious for a while, and we can’t exist without our McDonald’s.” Zac still had flashbacks to the French fries he had in Salt Lake City.
“Shut up!” the lead Ranger barked.
Zac glared at the man, while also stretching out a sinister smile.
“Excuse me?”
“I said shut the fuck up. We’re not stopping for anything.”
Zac snorted. “Did he say shut the fuck up?” He looked at Angus, and then back to the soldier. “You do realize we’re REVs, don’t you?”
From the nervous look in the eyes of the Ranger, he did.
For twenty years REVs had operated in the service of the Earth’s military. They were as well known as the SEALs, SAS…and yes, even the Rangers. But REVs were even more mysterious, their myth shrouded in stories told in dark barracks and sleeping quarters, late at night, between service members.
“Did you hear how the REV killed three hundred Qwin single-handily?”
“He was shot forty-two times and still survived.”
“The REV threw an armored vehicle fifty feet through the air and crushed a whole platoon of aliens.”
“You know, they can run a hundred miles per hour!”
Sure, some of the stories were exaggerations, but not all. The Ranger knew all the stories. He also knew this was the first time he’d ever heard of REVs being taken into custody. It was also the closest he’d ever been to a live REV.
“Yeah, I know you’re REVs. So what? You ain’t drugged out and you ain’t going nowhere.”
The man may have sounded confident and in control, but behind the bravado, he had his doubts. They all did.
Admiral Adame may have thought REVs were just dumb killing machines, but actually they were extremely intelligent, having enhanced recall along with their other abilities.
“Can I ask you a question, sergeant?” Zac asked the fidgety guard. “Have you ever heard of a double negative?”
The man blinked.
“I didn’t think so,” said Zac, a moment before he cascaded and ripped the securing ring from the floor of the van. Angus was only a heartbeat behind him. With their bodies now free, they threw them across the cab and into the four seated guards. With a whipping of heads and pummeling of shoulders, three of the men were unconscious two seconds later. The other had their Tasers up and working.
What the guards didn’t know was that Zac and Angus had been conditioned to the powerful shocks. In fact, they used the stimulation to cascade even higher, to the point where the chains, cuffs and shackles were more an annoyance than a hinderance. The rattling of falling metal echoed off the wall of the van while the last flashes of the Tasers died out.
The drivers heard the commotion and opened a joining port window, the barrel of an M-101 assault rifle stuck through and firing blindly into the back. They were panicking and willing to shoot their own troops to keep the REVs from attacking. It was too late.
While dodging bullets, Angus gripped the ledge of the open portal and pulled on the metal panel separating the cab from the back of the van. The wall buckled as Angus folded it
down. Zac was over his shoulder and into the front cab a moment later.
The driver reacted by jerking the steering wheel hard to the left. The van slid off the rainy road, leaving the pavement and hitting a muddy mound of dirt. Tires dug in and the van flipped, tumbling three times as it rolled down a small embankment.
The REVs were tossed around like they were in a blender. The driver and passenger wore seatbelts, so although they were also jostled, they were conscious and aware when the van came to a rest on its side.
Normal people would have been battered and stunned by the fall, if not worse. But not Zac and Angus. They didn’t skip a beat, with Zac kicking out the passenger-side door while Angus ripped the safety belts from the driver and passenger and tossed them through the opening.
Zac scooped up an M-101 for each of them and then stood over the two Rangers, looking menacing in the icy rain and swirling wind.
Two brilliant flashes of light diverted their attention. The REVs turned toward the rear of the van, where the back doors had opened during the crash, allowing two still-conscious Rangers to exit and aim their weapons at the backs of the REVs. The men had stunned looks on their faces, before both fell forward onto the muddy ground.
A lone figure, dressed in a dark green raincoat, came around the back of the van, cradling a long-barrel Taser.
“Don’t worry, they’re only stunned,” said the man.
Zac and Angus stepped forward.
“We weren’t worried, general.” The men shook hands. “Just glad to see you, sir.”
General Ben Smith looked past the REVs to the Rangers squatting on the wet soil. “You two, get over here!”
The men scrambled to their feet.
“Yes sir!” they both called out, saluting the senior officer, his rank evident by the single silver star on his military-issue raincoat.
“Don’t worry, gentlemen, this won’t hurt.”
Wide eyes of awareness met double flashes from the Taser.
“Like the others, they’ll be fine, but we can’t risk them following us.” General Smith motioned to a small transport fifty feet down the road. “C’mon. Time to go.”
27
Traffic began to back up as the curious and concerned stopped along the road to check on the accident. A red flashing light could be seen through the rain off in the distance.
Smith took the next exit off the highway and entered the surrounding industrial neighborhood that filled the five miles between the spaceport and the military base. Although Smith may have spent time on Crious at various times throughout his military career, he still used a GPS monitor to guide him.
“Where are we going,” sir?” Angus asked.
“A house outside of town. A buddy of mine owns it. He died recently, so I’m sure he won’t mind if we use it.”
“How did you find us? Hell, how did you even know we were on Crious?” Zac asked.
“When Adame asked for the appointment, he didn’t say why he wanted it. I’ve never met him and was curious why an Admiral would want to meet with me? It obviously had something to do with the Temple incident; that’s the only thing people want to talk about these days. I also knew the two of you were on the run. But then he cancelled the meeting at the last minute. I was curious, so I followed him to the building and saw the two of you being led away in restraints. I wasn’t about to try a rescue on my own, but you guys forced my hand.”
“We appreciate the help, general,” Zac said. “We came for answers? Are we going to get any?”
“Ever since you came back from the mission claiming you were set up, I’ve been doing my own research. I’ve learned some things which I’ll share. Some of it you will like, some you won’t.”
“Do you think it’s true, general?” Angus asked.
“It doesn’t matter what I think, only what I can prove. And even if we had proof, we’re going to have a hell of a time convincing anyone of it, not without hard, concrete evidence.”
Smith turned down a straight road heading out of town. The trio sat in silence for the next fifteen minutes, each lost in thought. At one point, the general pulled off the road and into the parking lot of a large grocery store. Even on alien planets people had to eat. The building was frequented mostly by natives, yet they gave no notice to Smith as he entered the store, leaving Zac and Angus in the car. He explained the owner of the house had been off the planet for six months, so there was a pretty good chance the cupboards would be bare. He also knew REVs. They could consume ten thousand calories per day and still not gain weight, their metabolism was that high. They could also go much longer without food or water, another strange side-effect of their altered physiology. He returned a few minutes later lugging two over-filled canvas bags of food.
Angus was in the backseat with the bags, rifling through them until he withdrew a bag of fried chips. The label on the bag was in Zinniean, so he didn’t know what they were, just what they looked like. He tore open the top and began loudly crunching on the dark red square chips.
“Hey, these are pretty good.” He handed one to Zac, who snatched the chip from his hand and popped it into his mouth.
“You’re right. Give me some more.”
General Smith declined the offer from Angus and kept driving, content for the delay in the crucial conversation, yet annoyed by the crunching and smacking coming from the REVs.
After another thirty minutes of driving, Smith pulled off the road and wound down a dirt road toward a placid lake in the distance. He steered the transport onto a driveway and parked outside a rustic looking cabin with a steeply pitched roof.
As an Earth-like world with Humanoid-like natives, buildings on Crious followed much of the same design standards as the Humans were familiar with. They used the same basic building materials, depending on the environment, either mud and brick, stone or wood—metal and composite would come later as the race advanced with their technology. In the heavily-wooded landscape around the city, logs and wood plank were the material of choice, and the basic box-like form the predominant shape.
The Humans felt comfortable entering the home, finding it hard to believe it had been built by aliens.
Gen. Smith put the perishable groceries in a stand-up refrigerator, finding—as he’d suspected—that not much had survived the six months the home had been vacant. He explained that the house was owned by a lieutenant-colonel friend of his who had recently died in one of the evacuations. He had once been assigned to Sector Command on Crious and found the affordable housing prices on the planet impossible to ignore. When he rotated back into the fleet, he kept the home, thinking ES-10 would be a nice place to retire to, but he never got the chance.
Zac and Angus felt guilty for the general’s loss, even though the officer stressed that he didn’t blame them for what was happening in the Grid. Even if it was a total clusterfuck of a mission, one could never anticipate what all the consequences could be, good or bad.
With the thick cloud cover and the drizzling rain, darkness came quicker to this part of Crious than the hour would suggest. Angus lit a fire, while Smith began fixing an early dinner. Zac offered to help with the cooking, until he realized he hadn’t made a meal in a kitchen in fifteen years. He’d cooked plenty of dead animals over a fire on Eliza-3 during his captivity there, but this was different. The general shooed him away, saying things would go faster without his help. Zac wandered into the living room and sat watching the fire until the meals were brought on paper plates and placed on the room’s only coffee table.
The REVs wolfed down all that was offered, and then wanted more, the meal serving only to tease the men’s appetites and not quench them. And then the conversation turned serious, with the general—naturally—taking the lead.
“Okay, here’s a summary of where we stand, me first. By now, everyone should know I’ve abandoned my post and that I’m helping you. The guards will have recovered by now and identified me. I shot my fellow soldiers—with a stun gun—but shot nonetheless. Since I’m already
in trouble enough from the temple incident, it’s a good bet my military career is over, unless we can prove the whole thing was a set up. Admiral Adame may have to answer for why he was transporting the two of you back to the spaceport, although he’ll say he’s just following orders to turn you over to the Qwin. I’m not sure what procedures were to be followed, but I’m pretty sure Adame was operating outside them. And according to what you told me in the car, he’s gone against a very powerful and mysterious figure named Hank, who has his tentacles spread throughout the commercial and military communities.”
“I’m not worried what happens to Admiral Adame, sir,” Zac said acidly.
“Neither am I. Now let’s talk about the two of you.” Smith had bought package of local intoxicants that tasted remarkably like beer. He nearly chugged a full can before continuing.
“Your presence on the planet is now known. Your ship will have been traced and either confiscated by now, or at least, under tight surveillance.”
“Sir, we have a way to contact the AI aboard the ship.”
Smith stared at the two REVs for a moment. “And you chose not to tell me this until now?”
“Hard to tell friends from foe, general,” explained Zac without remorse. “We had to be sure.”
Smith nodded. “And?”
“The ship is still at the spaceport, but under guard. The ship’s owner apparently has a lot of clout. No one has boarded it yet. They’re just watching.”