by CG Blade
After the news broadcast ended, Petra turned her head watching Cooper and Jackie discussing something passionately through the control room glass separating the two rooms.
”Do not hold back Jim. You are treating her like a PTSD victim and she is not. She can handle anything you throw at her because of her programming. All of this and her past—everything you know is in her head already. Her subconscious is running our algorithm trillions of times a second. She has everything up there. All she needs is a push.”
Cooper was afraid she would snap. Kill him.
“She isn’t going to be mad like you and I know mad. Terprise keeps her emotions in check. The conversations you have with her are not the same as she has with Terprise. She may look sad or mad pissed off or upset but she is not going to act on these emotions. There is no connection between her facial expressions and the physical reaction. She is not going to hurt you or throw you around the room if you tell her the truth. She had billions of bytes of data fed into her so she knows things she may not tell you at first. All you need to do is converse with her like we are talking here right now.”
Cooper thought about that for a minute. There was silence.
“You won’t ever see her cry again,” she continued passionately talking with her fingers locked together tight “No matter what happens no matter how bad things get or how badly she is hurt she will never feel pain or remorse or guilt. She might look or act as if she is but she is not. Terprise runs that part of her brain associating language and expression with her facial muscles. Like we discussed last year Petra is a shell and Terprise is her pearl. You wanted the ultimate super spy Jim and you got one.”
Cooper knew Jackie was right. He did not forget. He wanted to forget. He had hoped somehow that she was her old self inside there. Maybe he could bring it out and be friends with it again. He was in so much pain. He lost one of his dearest friends and there she was just sitting there. A Goddamned robot took her place he thought. He had to be as strong as or stronger than Petra or anyone here for all of their sakes. Cooper walked back into the room silently and sat back down. Petra hung on every movement he made. “Petra, do you know what happened to you two years ago when you were brought here to the facility?”
“Yes General,” she replied calmly and robotically. “We were on convoy in what was known as Afghanistan Massoud region to be exact which is now the United Middle East States. Our unit came under heavy fire as we cleared out the village of Khost and the surrounding area of insurgents. We had lost our machine gunner to drone fire and I took his place on top of the Hum-WRAP-Cruiser nest. Our driver took on crossfire coming from east and west directions in the middle of the city and lost control of the vehicle. I was thrown out of the vehicle onto the street with a broken leg and severe head trauma. I crawled towards an open doorway trying to get out of the center of the firefight and inadvertently tripped a protomorphic mine…”
Cooper, Jackie and all the techs in the control room were fixated on every word. They had never heard the full story of what happened on that day. It was excruciating and agonizing to hear the details of her traumatic past.
“I lost both of my legs my right arm and suffered severe brain trauma. I was rescued one hour later by Helo-Carrier and was pronounced…” she paused slightly “…dead at 3:36 p.m. IANA time zone on the second of March in the year 2074.” She was speaking as if she was reading the pages of a book word for word. “My body was laid to rest in—Med Lab—unable to proceed with rest of data General.”
Cooper knew she could not finish this sentence and thought of the next question very carefully. “Petra how do you know me?”
Cooper turned and saw Jackie staring at them through the glass cupping her mouth with her hands hanging on every syllable Petra spoke. Jackie’s reputation as a scientist depended on all of this. Silence echoed everywhere except in Petra’s voice.
“You are the Medical General Liaison to the Three Presidents and have served in over twenty conflicts on this planet over the past thirty years” Again there was that pause like there was a recall of some sort going on in her head. ”You were at one time my commanding officer. You were the friend of my father Lieutenant Colonel Anthony Christopher Dace or A. C. Dace posthumously. You are also the main caretaker and leader of this facility the National Intelligence Bureau Meredith Medical Laboratory located in Meredith New York approximately three miles under the earth in standard units or four point eight kilometers in metric units.” There was some sort of satisfaction on her face. “You were my mentor and friend before I was brought here to the Med Lab two years ago. Should I proceed with more information General?”
“No, no Petra. That won’t be necessary.” He held up the key he had set on her table. “Do you know what this key is Petra?”
“No General Cooper. That key is not in my database.”
“Call me Jim Petra.” He handed her the key. “This key is for your belongings in your quarters. Doctor Siebert will show you to your room. I would like you to start information and weapons training today. Is that acceptable to you?”
“Yes, Jim. I will go with Doctor Siebert and start training.” She began to stand up expressionless and unfazed by any of the previous conversations. Her smock that barely covered her backside exposed the wires hanging off her as she waited by the side of the bed in almost rehearsed, robotic movements.
Cooper walked around the bed and stood in front of her. She popped to attention and saluted him. Cooper pushed her hand down to her side and bent over brushing her long blonde hair aside from her ear as he whispered in confidence “You never have to salute me again and by God you never have to salute anyone again Petra. You served your country and now it is time for others to salute you. You are the new America and she’s waiting to be reborn.” Cooper saw a slight glimmer and a grin slowly come over her face. Maybe he saw what looked like a tear form in her eye. No way. Cooper locked eyes with Jackie as she entered the room and escorted Petra to her new quarter’s one floor under them. They both knew they were on their way and there would not be any turning back now. Everything up to now was a success and they could finally breathe a sigh of relief.
Chapter 5
UNDULATION
The tattered fabric of the declining planet had changed drastically over the last decade. The United States market had crumbled and the economic, political, and sociological landscape of the other nations had changed as well. Greedy corporations and religious insanity had ripped the past ten years apart.
The word "God" had been removed and erased in government buildings, schools, and public places in America by 2070. Forced underground most churches disappeared in fear of brutal attacks. The worst stock market crash forced the country to keep bailing out banks and printing more money that eventually collapsed the world market and sent the planet into a deep monetary crisis. The war in the Middle East became so volatile by 2075 that the failing United Nations, with thirty coalition forces, formed the new World Alliance State or WAS. It had its own police force the WASP (or World Alliance State Police) that dropped the last EMP bombs on the epicenter, which was Afghanistan, on June 1st, 2074. Drones that had replaced manned fighter planes by 2066 had released these massive projectiles. Coincidently, manned Transport and Jet-Carriers mass-produced at this time were for travel purposes only. The remaining Middle East countries formed what was now the UMES or United Middle East States with a representative from each of the countries agreeing to meet annually in the capital of the UMES, Gwadar.
The takeover of the United Nations ignited with the help of the United States and three senators with other worldly agendas fueled the hijacking of the U. S. Constitution and the Bill Of Rights. Senators Keller, Sheehan, and Long had been co-conspirators for years and were longtime friends back together when they served during the Rostov conflict in the Ukraine. Diplomats and politicians forced out of office found it very odd that the majority of the country never questioned the Three President’s motives and beliefs. The U.S. military continued witho
ut a hitch when they transferred over to WASP and the presidents funded them so well that the whole thing smelled of bribery to most. Others thought that there was another reason they had such an easy time convincing the men and women in the military to betray their country in the end.
Protests and rallies on Washington were hopeless as they abolished the Second Amendment. The First followed shortly thereafter. A one-time nationwide gun seizure began on the citizens of the United States after thirty-two-year-old Congressman Herbert G. Wellman (D) of Georgia massacred the Congressional Assembly on a Monday afternoon killing fifty-three Congressman, secretaries, and aides with an assault rifle. Later during autopsy, doctors discovered that he had a very large tumor at the base of his skull. A Secret Service agent who had been there that day visiting his wife at the Assembly surgically shot out the tumor. The gun ban allowed Rayson Industries to peddle their Drones and wares to criminals, the military, private contractors, and terrorists. Highest bidders won out and no one individual or a family stood a chance. For the first time since the Revolutionary War, ordinary citizens were dying in the streets revolting against their government. No one was safe now as all the weapons were confiscated and locked away in warehouses. Rayson Industries controlled the armories. The Three Presidents had bought shares in Rayson Surveillance Equipment Company so that it could monitor everyone, including each other.
Fifty-nine-year-old President Helen Long was enjoying a meal at the long wooden table in the White House dining room. She was a chubby five-foot-nine-inch brunette who reeked of bad perfume and obsessed about her thick covering of facial make-up. As she ate, her ears perked up like a trained dog hearing muffled footsteps on the red carpet that were coming closer down the hallway. She could tell they were Presidents Dave Keller and Mark Sheehan. Keller was just turning sixty and was the smallest and the weakest of the three. He always wore a suit and tie as if he was still campaigning in his hometown of Chicago. The three of them had never married. They were married to their dishonorable beliefs. Her loyal cabinet members, staff, guards, and cooks were huddled around a crystal Vidscreen at the far end of the hallway leading into the Oval Office. They knew never to interrupt her when she was burrowing through her oatmeal.
“We interrupt this program to bring you a special breaking report from Tallahassee, Florida.” The video switched to one of a reporter with a Vidset in his hand standing outside a fence similar to the newscast earlier in Maine.
“Hello this is Mark Gagebar from WDNC news channel. I am standing outside the gates of the Medium Particle Collider here in Tallahassee, Florida. There has been another strange incident eerily similar to the one in Bangor, Maine this morning. We’re going to show you a video of that incident now.”
The video and audio feed started: Along the fence that surrounded the MPC a well-dressed man in a dark blue business suit and blue shirt stood staring at the entrance to the MPC just outside the main gate. It was a warm gloomy thunder filled rainy afternoon as he raised his hands to his brown face and began screaming “3639361155935.” The chanting became louder as his nails dug hard into the wet flesh on his face. The security cameras caught this and within seconds, WASP soldiers were dispatched to the area. The chanting was getting louder and the blood began to flow quickly onto his light blue shirt. The guards with guns now drawn were within twenty-feet of the man asking forcefully for him to stop what he was doing. The soldiers stared at each other in horror. Suddenly, the man dropped to his knees, screamed the numbers again, and quickly pulled a pocketknife out of his suit pocket. A Sargent was now demanding that the man drop the knife and comply. It was too late. The man pulled the knife up to his throat and made a couple of sawing motions across his windpipe. He tumbled over and hit the ground making a splash as he fell. The soldiers rushed him, grabbed the knife out of his clutching hand, and tried to contain the blood with their own jackets and clothing. By now, the Ambulance-Carrier had arrived and the technicians had taken over. He had no pulse. The MPC workers stared at the scene from the large one-way windows at the second floor. They brushed it off as lunacy or drugs and returned to work.
“As far as we know, the victim’s name was John Pertrance and he was a professional filmmaker here in Florida. We will bring you more information as we get it in. Once again this is Mark Gagebar WDNC news, we are with you everywhere.”
Now standing in the doorway of the dining room Keller asked, “Have you seen the news?”
Long quipped quickly and forthright spitting food as she barked. “Yep and I don’t think this concerns us at all. Do you think a couple of nuts acting crazy at some colliders will panic anyone? Do you Sheehan?”
Sheehan spoke softly and with authority. His large fit fifty-eight-year-old healthy body bore neatly kept fashions and colognes purchased out of the best stores and were of the best quality. “Our stake in this matter is great. We will not have the news media driving down the market with some conspiracy theories about colliders. Considering the events, I believe we should at least release a statement.” The Vidscreen showed the shooting in Maine at great length along with various ‘Expert’ opinions about the matter.
Keller popped up squeaking as he talked. “I’ll do it.”
“Make it short and sweet,” Long said, “and get a hold of Cooper he’ll have to recommend a lid for this jar to shut it tight. I want to start the barcoding next week. And would someone please stop all that noise and racket!”
There were construction workers coming and going into the upstairs rooms of the White House, as was delegated by Long and her new architectural plans. Banging and clatter could be heard coming from the upstairs and roof area as a new spire and steeple erected in their honor was going up fast. The capitol building was receiving the same revolting renovations and spire to match the White House’s new gaudy additions.
Chapter 6
PROVOCATION
On his way to the White House, General Cooper dressed in his olive green uniform with his five stars on his shoulders and shining medals hanging off his chest was carefully reading a briefing from the previous news events. He knew his team had all the information they needed to look into these horrific collider events but did they have the imagination it took to look beyond all the facts? Cooper called Dr. Sanders and had him set up labs for Dr. Emily Judson from the University of Omaha and Dr. Rie Al-Tabar from CERN and their teams under very excitable words from Sanders about Dr. Emily Judson PhD in his lab. You would have thought Sanders just had acquired some cash and been dropped off at a candy store. Cooper would shuttle them to the Med Lab in the hopes that they would all be his confidants and keepers of his secrets. What other choice did he have at this point of the game? He hoped he had guessed right about Dr. Judson and Dr. Al-Tabar’s years of experience or it would all circle down the drain. He would have a twenty-one gun salute at Arlington with three bullet wounds in his chest. This was time to tread carefully with the politicians and push the doctors.
A renewed Petra Kayden Dace was sitting in the Aeolus Cruiser in the seat across from Cooper in a secretary outfit they had decided on earlier. An unassuming black skirt with a white top, black high heels, and glasses would be her cover. Her blonde hair was up in a loose bun on top of her head. She was to be his aide in this weird charade and came only as an observer. Cooper needed her to see and hear all of it.
Most ground transport digitized Carriers or Cruisers by nickname silently propelled and hovered inches above the ground while in motion. The tinted bubbletop cruiser was about eight feet wide and sixteen feet long and came loaded with communication options that included a Vidscreen and were available in two or four door models. Cooper's model also included a fully stocked bar. Most Cruisers had an auto drive option connected to the satellite linked NHN (National Highway Network) and came in three colors: black, very black, and extreme black. Carl, the only driver Cooper trusted, turned them into the White House gates, and pulled up to the most recognizable house on the planet.
On his way up the steps of the White Ho
use with Petra by his side holding a virtual clipboard, twelve WASP soldiers wearing the same black uniforms from different countries greeted Cooper. They swiftly saluted and opened the front doors for him. He was after all the highest-ranking General in the country right now. Outside he could hear the weakened protesters on the sidewalks in front of the large brick walls that had replaced the old wrought iron gates of long ago. Drones circled the area of the protestors ever vigilant scanning and picking off the flesh pieces with piercing rounds if they detected any form of metallic weapons. Early in the transition to WASP, someone’s amputated hand flew onto the White House lawn for lighting a contraband cigarette with a Zippo lighter mistaken for a flamethrower by a thermal weapon recognition equipped drone.
“Glad you could join us,” Long quipped with a scowl on her face as Cooper walked into the Oval Office long enough for some head shakes and nods before removing his cap. Sheehan was leaning against a tall red curtained window that had replaced the white sheer ones that adorned the room for so long. Cooper stood ridged in front of her desk as Long sat down and listened in her comfortable black leather chair. Her aide Roger Bavary stood next to her at attention as he did every day abiding by her wishes. Petra stuck to Cooper’s side beginning to take notes as he stood in front of the white sofa. The whole room smelled like the make-up counter at a department store. Long had replaced the grand historical Presidential paintings in the Oval Office with her personal trashy abstract pictures from home. Keller was sitting on the sofa enjoying another adult beverage.
Cooper hated the three of them with a passion and knew she was queen bee in charge. He had always wondered if she had castrated Keller and Sheehan when they finished this coup. Money had always been one of the determining factors of their revolution and the ‘Tri-Presidents’, as Cooper called them, made their money from stocks bought from the war machine in the form of WASC’s (World Alliance State Credits). When the Tri-Presidents’ were voted into office by and for themselves, they flaunted it like gangsters dropping money from the balconies of the White House to the vermin below.