by CG Blade
COBALT
The First Trinity Series Novel
By C. G. Blade
Copyright © 2015 C G Blade
All rights reserved.
ASIN: B014LN4QNI
Library of Congress Control Number: 2015938531
This is a fictional work. The names, characters, incidents, places, and locations are solely the concepts and products of the author’s imagination or are used to create a fictitious story and should not be construed as real.
INTRODUCTION
Hello and thank you for reading this first novel in the Trinity Series, Cobalt. The Trinity Series including Cobalt, Crimson, and Heliotrope was a culmination of three years of taking notes, mumbling, dreaming, researching, and reviews by a lot of great people, supporters, and writers. When I first embarked on this magnificent journey, I had become the unfortunate casualty of chronic pain due to several lower back surgeries and fusions. For over five years now, I have wanted to foresee a future where it was possible to regenerate the casualties of my eroding infrastructure and put it down in words so that my humor that always overrode my pain would come out shining. With the help of some great people, we have achieved that and more.
A love of fantasy and science-fiction fueled the effort in this novel and the love of reading the great writers of our time such as Dick, Nelson, Bradbury, and Heinlein was always inspirational and I realized how lucky we are to have had these people in our lives. I made contact with Ray Nelson author of several fantastic and wonderful novels including ‘The Ganymede Takeover’, ‘Blake’s Progress’, ‘The Prometheus Man’, and ‘The Ecolog’. I asked him if he would mind if I did a tribute novel to him and some other writers who influenced my life including his friend Philip K. Dick. He said he loved the idea and that he loved the idea of being a ‘bad guy’ if that was possible. I obliged without a single synapse triggering in my grey mass and began honing this first novel in front of you. I owe a huge debt of gratitude to Radell Faraday "Ray" Nelson for his time and guidance in assisting me with this novel.
Cobalt is dedicated to the great fiction writers of our time, Café Boehme, all of my supporters and family, my editor Nikki thank you for your patience, and the great men and women of our armed forces especially our wounded warriors—you are never forgotten. I cannot express enough gratitude and thanks for all of the love and support I received from my beautiful wife, friends and family while making this novel a reality.
Now on to the really weird analog and digital stuff- You will notice a lot of what we now call ‘Easter Eggs’ in this novel. Easter Eggs were labeled as hidden surprises that were first seen in video games as far back as the ‘70s when you reached a secret level or found a hidden ‘bit’ of information. I have included and squeezed in several of them for your enjoyment. The propensity for enjoying this unusual kind of behavior goes back to the days when people used to turn LP’s backwards with a pencil eraser to find the hidden messages in the ‘weird’ sound sections of a record. Some ‘messages’ in this novel are subtle references and some of them are going to need a little less brain matter. Regardless, I hope you have fun and enjoy it while you are reading this. Our ‘employees’ will post a secret list after this novel goes to press sometime in the year 2076.
Our lawyers at Pseudosynth Press, Mrs. Dewey, Mr. Screwem, and Mr. Howe, wanted us to make perfectly clear that reading this novel may cause the following: Hysteria, blindness, weeping, rashes, redness, swelling, bleeding, uncontrollable laughter, a desire for Twinkies, and a warm fuzzy feeling in Red, White, and Cobalt Blue.
The author is also not responsible for how the characters act, how they speak, and how they regenerate.
Robotic Love, CG Blade, storyteller
Chapter1
STIMULATION
She lifted her head off the pillow and took a long staring glare around the room. Nothing here seemed familiar. Where was she? The bed she was lying in was ruffled and there was an iron rusty blue box the size of a hope chest at the foot of the bed. Her eyes focused slowly as she studied the room. She felt like she was waking up from a dream, trying to move through the grogginess. The sunlight coming in through the windows was faint and she guessed it was morning. “Where the hell am I?” Swinging her legs off the bed, she raised her hips and planted her feet on the floor. Was she clothed? Looking herself over, she was wearing jeans and a long sleeve black button down shirt with black boots. There was a blue hue in the room coming from the box. Her long fingers went through her long, dirty blonde, ruffled hair as she felt her face. The wood covered room was musty dusty and creaky, dark with various stains. Through a doorway, she could see a kitchen counter and stood up to proceed towards it. Losing her balance her toned six-foot frame tumbled back on the bed. Her head hurt and she felt like she was swimming in fog. Equilibrium is a funny thing when you do not have it and right now, hers was off. She stood up and rested her shoulder against the wall by the bed. A framed picture of a deer in a field in some woods some place was pinned on the wall next to her bed. Was she in a cabin or a dream? All the signs lead to the last direction. The insides of the walls and ceiling were lightened wood; no paint, no mirrors, or anything resembling that anyone belonged here or that anyone had stayed here for any length of time. There was one light bulb without a shade hanging from the ceiling. She felt her chest and her own body over, checking herself out for answers. There was a leather strap on her chest leading up to a holster, which housed a gun. She took the gun out and examined it. It was a Glock 10mm pistol. She knew that and how to check it but why? It was loaded and she quickly put it back in the holster. At her hips were two six shot Colt 45 Peacemaker’s. More questions were now rolling around in her brain.
Now standing on her own a little better she made her way to the one window in the room and looked outside. Bushes and trees swaying in a gentle wind, a wooden fence and some strange strobe light that made the morning sunlight look like a disco ball flickering were all in her view. What was making that light oscillate and what was causing the thumping noise? She turned and stared again at the box. “What the hell was going on?” She thought about it for a minute. Walking over to it she accidently brushed her hand over the box’s topside. The top quickly opened sideways with a bright dark blue and purple hue. A puff of musky dust shot out in all directions. The box responded as if they were old friends.
“Hello, Petra” the box said in a female monotone voice “how may I assist you?” startled she quickly fell backwards as if someone had spooked her with a Halloween gag. That box is very odd she thought. Standing up and looking down at it, she saw more weapons and some ammo at the bottom of the box. She made a frantic search in her pockets for something that might explain what this insanity was. There was nothing of help and her button down shirt had no pockets. Her jeans were empty and her hands had no rings, watches, or jewelry. Her black calf high boots were dirty and scuffed. She glanced again at the walls, looking for a clock or something that might give her a sense of some measure. Except for that shitty deer picture, there was nothing on the walls of interest. She slowly moved towards what looked like the kitchen area and fumbled for a light switch on the wall. She found a switch and snapped it on. The ceiling light was dusty and yellow and hardly gave off any light. There seemed to be an outside door, a fridge, a sink, and all the other normal kitchen utensils. She noticed a shiny object on the floor and bent down to get a closer look. It was a key with the letters “PKD” on it.
She rustled through all the cabinets in and around the sink and found nothing that would satisfy her curiosity. Opening the fridge, she scanned the contents. There were some containers of food and all of them were marked with tape labeling t
he contents. This is strange. There was one marked “steak” and she opened it up and smelled it. She quickly downed a piece, shoving it into her mouth with her fingers. Why was she so hungry? There were at least twenty other containers with an assortment of every kind of food. After she had consumed some, she set her thoughts back to the door.
The warm sunlight hit her face as she made her way outside and the dew of morning covered everything in sight. The landscape and air around her was beautiful except for one thing. There were towering wind generators all around her and they were looming over the whole horizon. The white one hundred foot tall spiral towers with massive blades slowly spun and cast a thumping strobe effect over the whole area. There is one mystery solved, she thought as she slowly scanned the rest of the land. There were fields and farms as far as she could see and there were woods in front of her; a dirt path leading to another dirt road that was out of her view on the horizon. At the end of the path, there was a black mailbox on top of a square wooden post. She turned around and looked at the house. It was just as she thought it was from the inside: a small log cabin, dirty and weathered sitting on a small hill. Whose cabin was it? Was it hers? Her head still ached and the reality of confusion started to set in. She had no thoughts of anyone or anything. Had she fallen? She cupped her hands around her mouth “Hello!” She yelled. There was an echo but no answer. No memory of past events like falling or hitting her head. No thoughts of childhood loves or her parents or anything. She looked around and followed the power lines that came to and from the house. They lead somewhere, she thought. She muttered, “Another strange thing,” and chalked all this up to dreaming. If this were dreaming, why did the mailbox have mail sticking out of it and what about that talking blue box? She opened the front of the partially opened mailbox and ruffled through the letters. One particular letter was in typed and addressed to Petra Kayden Dace in blue letters. Below it in large bold font, it read RUN!
Chapter2
INCURVATION
She quickly turned and snapped to the ground catching herself with her fingers and knees as a projectile whizzed past her ear and stuck in the wooden post of the mailbox making an echoing sound. She turned to look at it and it was slowly turning colors as a piercing sound grew louder coming out of it. It was the size of a pencil but much larger in diameter. She got herself back up and scrambled towards the house as fast as her legs would let her down the same dirt path she just came from, kicking up dirt. As she turned to enter the door of the house, the object in the mailbox post blew up and formed a hole of at least a ten foot radius across, destroying the mailbox sending it flying in all directions. Turning her head and eyes away from the popping explosion she ran through the kitchen and back into the bedroom. The box what about that blue box? Confused and frustrated she instinctively pulled out her 10mm pistol, ran over to it, and pointed her gun at the blue iron box she saw earlier. She again ran her hand over the top of the box, hoping to interrogate it this time.
“Hello, Petra. How may I assist you?” the box spat out as it opened, dust flying everywhere again.
At least she had a name. The key, she thought. The key labeled PKD. Where does it go? “Box, what is this key for?”
“I am not sure I understand the question Petra. There is no association with the key in the database. You may call me Terprise,” the box continued, “and Petra you have incoming—”. Petra turned quickly to look out the only window.
That is just great what the—?
Terprise continued, “A missile or projectile from sixty degrees altitude is traveling downward at 182 mph. You have 8.4 seconds to avoid contact.”
Unbelievably Petra picked up the box, dust flying everywhere and lighter than she thought for whatever a talking iron hope chest weighed. She broke out of the window rolled onto the ground with it and ran for the back of the cabin towards the denser woods. The box began to get smaller in her hand until it was the size of a small music box. The projectile that only took a couple of seconds to reach the cabin had now destroyed it, sending her flying. Its explosion made a crater the size of a circus tent, with wood flying and flames smoking everywhere.
“Incoming Petra,” the box said as it vanished into the palm of her right hand disappearing completely.
“Where did you go Terprise? Where did the box go?”
“The box was a metaphor.”
“The box is a metaphor, a metaphor for what?”
“The box is a metaphor linking you to the virtual world from the physical world. Would you like your HUD now?” The voice was now coming out of her head, the same female voice the box had just used.
Petra looked down at herself again to make sure all her appendages were still intact and her view was now a landscape of small colorful thermal images and numbers in front of her eyes.
“What am I looking at Terprise?” Petra asked terrified and confused.
“This is your HUD or Heads up Display. It also has thermal scan. Bogies or threats with high heat signatures on the ground or in the air show up as red. The numbers in your eyesight represent the distance towards or away from you in Standard or European units—whichever you prefer. Human or drone threats can see you just as you can see them unless you would like me to turn Cobalt on?”
“Well hell yes! Do it now!” Petra yelled aloud, whatever Cobalt meant. Terprise what is Cobalt?”
“Cobalt incorporates algorithms to your HUD program and ties it in with whatever nine different satellite types being either synchronous or non-synchronous to give you a 99.99 percent chance of knowing the exact distance to a threat if you wish to eliminate it.”
Petra checked her pistol clip to make sure it was full and reloaded it back into the chamber. None of this made sense to her. She sat low behind a tree and tried to get as close to the ground as possible in order to get rid of any of her own heat signature.
“Terprise—if that is your name—I’m going to call you Ter for now. It’s a little shorter.”
Terprise responded accordingly. “That will be fine Petra. You are Cobalt Petra and your entire DNA system is self-replicating. Cobalt also allows you to blend in with your environment so enemies who also have thermal scan do not detect you. It basically makes you appear “colder” to them.”
Great, Petra thought. I have a talking hope chest in my ear that went through my palm and I am being called the color of a blue crayon. Confusing? No. Insane, completely insane!
She could now see some sort of threat creeping up in front of her at around 300 feet about the size of a six-foot man dressed in black tactical gear armed to the hilt with weapons. She turned and rose up taking the shot and he went down. Another at around 400 feet she took out with no problem. She now had the 10mm and a Colt Peacemaker in each of her hands without thinking.
“Incoming threat is at 500 yards and closing fast. Its altitude is 600 feet.” Ter was scanning everything in sight then spewing figures to Petra at a sickening pace.
“What is that threat?” Petra asked.
“Its signature is more than likely a drone perhaps a reconnaissance or mine dropper. They will send out search and destroy drones until they know for sure you are eliminated.”
“Who are they?”
“I do not know Petra but they are not friendlies.”
“What the hell is going on here?”
“May I suggest you keep your gun aimed at that small branch at the tree in the foreground twenty-feet up and I will fix a Latitude and Longitude for you to knock it down using your HUD?”
“Oh it would be my pleasure,” Petra said sarcastically with a smirk.
“The bogy is 500 feet and closing… 245 feet and closing… 101 feet and closing.” The drone whined at a high frequency and became louder as it got closer to Petra. Petra could now see a small circular shape in the blue sky above gaining speed as it propelled towards her mimicking her movements. A bull’s-eye targeting indicator appeared in her eyesight.
“Fire when the indicator appears green in your view,” Ter instru
cted.
Petra unloaded two shots that rang out loudly into the drone when the bull’s-eye turned green in her HUD. The black spherical drone fell to earth spinning in circles with one small engine on the ground like a pinwheel that was running out of steam.
“Once it cannot fly,” Ter continued, “it will auto-shut off. However, be warned: it will still communicate with other drones and bogies that will take its place. It will eventually explode. We cannot stay in the same quadrant for long as the bogies will eventually find us.”
“Ter is there a way to knock out communications between the threats so they can’t communicate with each other?”
“Yes. The threats are using the wind generators to maximize their communications. They have embedded frequency and network modules. You must fully eliminate the drone’s communication capabilities by knocking out its power supply.”
Petra walked through a field of knee high grass and shot out the smoking drone core with one of her Colts. She watched the circuits lose power and the LED lights diminish until they were dark. The drone was globe-like in stature about the size of a medium sized dog and looked to have ammunition and missile capability. She smashed it with her boots until she was satisfied that it was no longer working. It stunk like burnt wiring and melted electronics.
“I do not think it will be able to communicate any longer,” Ter said, “Please do not allow your body to ingest, imbibe, or inhale its odor as it is toxic and will cause hallucinations and possibly death. Would you like your facial armor now?”
That is exciting facial armor, Petra thought sarcastically, well this has been a wonderful morning. I wonder what we’ll have for lunch. “How do we knock out the wind generators Ter?” Petra shot out two more oncoming moving ground targets while Ter explained about the generators and more about Cobalt between kills.