by Isaac Hooke
Shaw reached a turnpike and steered onto the main highway to Marseille. A timer appeared on the vehicle’s dashboard: when the jeep passed the matching toll area at the end of the highway, the toll amount would be automatically deducted from the account associated with the owner, in this case Shaw’s dad. Even when the world was ending, the government had to extract its toll.
The highway proved a wee bit busier than the country road. In the inbound lane, Shaw passed at least two vehicles a minute. Beyond the divider, in the outgoing lane, there were about four times the vehicles fleeing the city. Overhead, two jets roared passed as the Air Force sent reinforcements to the city. It seemed a bit too late to be sending reinforcements now, given what he had seen on the news feeds, but then again Rade didn’t have the same raw battle space data as the generals, and wasn’t privy to their decision making processes.
No personal aircraft were flying around up there, nor any drones, save for the unit Rade had following the vehicles. He lost the drone shortly after arriving on the highway—Rade suspected some vigilante in a neighboring farm had shot it down, perhaps confusing it for an enemy unit.
On the road, the jeep and SUV encountered the occasional storm damage—mostly uprooted trees that Shaw had to swerve around. In one area, it was obvious a tornado had cut across the highway, as the asphalt switched to dirt for about five hundred meters where the rotating vortex had peeled away the surface. Shaw had to slow right down, and the passengers were jolted about constantly until the vehicles reached the intact asphalt on the far side; the transition formed quite the bump. She also had to navigate the large, deep impact craters that had been created where the tornado had tossed the chunks of peeled asphalt onto the highway.
As this was the coastal route, the sea could occasionally be seen to the west. Villages and towns often abutted the road, with highway turn-offs granting access.
As the team got closer to Marseille, the number of vehicles in the lane leading to the city remained constant, while the outgoing route essentially became a parking lot, with the cars stuck in traffic, packed rim to rim.
Plumes of smoke rose from the city ahead.
After reaching Aubagne, the city next to Marseille, Shaw slowed down as traffic formed a snarl up ahead. Apparently, the highway had been bombed, perhaps by jets converted to the side of the invaders, though it appeared the outgoing route had been spared. Shaw had to steer around the wreckages of vehicles that littered the roadway, along with blast craters.
Thereafter the vehicles moved smoothly once again, but then closer to the city the team encountered another traffic snarl. This one courtesy of a roadblock set up by the Franco-Italian Army and the National Gendarmerie.
About fifteen cars ahead of the jeep, a Leclerc tank squatted in the center of the road next to an Equestrian tank, flanked by two GCT self-propelled artillery vehicles equipped with lasers and rockets. In front of the armored fighting vehicles were two police cars. Three of the police stood outside their vehicles and were directing incoming traffic to a turnoff lane that led to the outgoing highway. There was no motion up ahead at all, considering that traffic in the outgoing lane wasn’t moving.
“They’re not letting anyone into the city,” Shaw said.
“Well that’s not going to work.” Rade glanced at the guardrails at the shoulder of the road. He could see a fence past the shrubs beyond, and another guardrail protecting a city road on the other side. “Algorithm, Brat, concentrate your fire on those guardrails. Cut us a path through both of them. And take down the fence, too.”
From their positions aboard the SUV, the Centurions aimed their rifles and in moments the guardrail next to the jeep fell away. The fence past the foliage followed, and then the guardrail beyond that.
Shaw turned off the road, accelerating over the fallen rail. The SUV followed close behind. The jeep tore through the trees and shrubs, and rocked the passengers about as it plowed through the toppled fence, and then past the broken guardrail that had once blocked access to the city road beyond. Rade heard some shouts, probably from the police, but there was otherwise no effort to stop them. Maybe the officers planned to call in backup. Then again, Rade doubted they could spare the units.
The SUV came directly through after the jeep. Glancing in the rear view mirror, Rade saw other cars driving through the gap, apparently some of them just as eager to enter the city despite the roadblock.
Probably a bad idea.
Only about three other vehicles passed through before the flow stopped—the police had probably intervened finally.
Though a city onto itself, Aubagne essentially functioned as a suburb of Marseille, and the street here was lined with apartments and private villas. There was still some street traffic here—evacuating a city of this size took more than a day. All of the vehicles were heading away from the city, and they used both lanes, forcing Shaw to drive on the shoulder of the road, or the sidewalk.
She eventually parked the jeep next to an apartment block shortly before the Aubagne-Marseille boundary.
“This is as good a place as any to leave the kids,” she said.
Rade glanced at the apartment uncertainly. “In here?”
“I’m sure many of the suites are vacant,” Shaw said. “The people on the outskirts would have been the first to evacuate.”
Rade switched his gaze to the plumes of smoke that cast a pall of black haze over the city, several kilometers away. Gunships no longer flew over the distant rooftops, nor jets. He thought that was a bad sign. Still, explosions occasionally sent fresh plumes skyward, so there were still battles ongoing.
“It’s a little close to the fighting for my tastes,” Rade said.
“I think it’s fine,” Shaw said.
“We can have the robots drive out of the city, and secure the kids in a farm or vineyard somewhere,” Rade said.
Shaw shook her head. “After the patrols we saw in the countryside? No thanks.”
“I think they were looking for me,” Rade said.
“You?” Shaw told him. “Whatever for?”
“Because I can control these.” He tapped the particle beam rifle on his shoulder.
Shaw shook her head. “I don’t want to get too far from my kids. We leave them here, fetch my parents, and then get out.”
“And what if we’re waylaid in some way?” Rade said.
“Then we have the robots bring the kids to your men in Saint Tropez,” Shaw said.
“All right,” Rade said. “Then let’s get this done.” He switched to the squad-level comm. “Centurions, Shaw and I are continuing alone into the city. We want you to park the SUV here, and hole up in a vacant suite in this apartment. Take care of the twins.”
Shaw looked over her shoulder at the two robots in the back seat. “Cora, Dora, stay with the kids,” Shaw said.
“Yes, boss,” Cora said.
“If we’re not back in four hours,” Shaw told them. “Load into the SUV with the robots, and kick out some of the other Centurions if you have to. Then drive down to Saint Tropez and bring the twins to the men.”
“I understand,” Cora said.
Shaw went to the back seat to address the kids. “Mommy and daddy have to go away for a while. But Cora and Dora will take good care of you.”
Cora lifted Sil into its arms, while Dora took Alex. The robots walked toward the apartment building. The two toddlers reached back toward their parents, and began to cry.
“I should go comfort them...” Shaw said.
“There’s no comfort one can give to a child at that age,” Rade said, “when he’s separated from his or her parents. The best thing you can do at the moment is to let them go. And know in your heart that we will be back. We’ll make it in time.”
“I hope so,” Shaw said.
“Don’t hope,” Rade said. “Know.” He switched to the comm. “Algorithm, Brat, you’re with us.”
The two combat robots jogged to the jeep, while the others from the SUV escorted Cora, Dora and the twin
s to the apartment. The front entrance was apparently locked, as the group paused in front, ostensibly to allow one of the robots to initiate a hacking routine. In moments they began to enter.
Rade heard a distant explosion reflecting from the nearby buildings.
“Post a lookout on the roof,” Rade sent the robots. “If the fighting starts getting close to this neighborhood, you’re to relocate immediately.”
“Understood,” Cora replied.
As Shaw drove away, Rade stared wistfully into the rear view mirror, watching the robots pile inside the apartment lobby. Alex and Sil were still reaching into the empty air toward their receding parents.
Keep my kids safe.
nine
Rade shifted his focus to the road, and to the quaint buildings lining either side: those plaster-covered facades topped by tiled, gambrel roofs. He searched for signs of enemy units, but saw none.
Shaw drove inside the official city limits of Marseille shortly. Unsurprisingly, the buildings on either side of the road remained the same.
“I didn’t want to say this earlier,” Shaw said. “But I lost contact with my parents some time ago.”
Rade frowned. “You could have mentioned that earlier.”
“I was worried you’d want to turn back,” Shaw said.
“I’m sure it’s just a few damaged comm nodes,” Rade said. “Preventing access to the Internet.”
“I hope so,” Shaw said.
Marseille was more of a traditionally designed city compared to some of the larger megalopolises in France. It had no upper levels of roadways, for example, and most of its skyscrapers came under twenty-two stories.
Shaw skirted those neighborhoods that were emitting smoke plumes up ahead. As they passed those areas, he occasionally heard the fleeting sounds of fighting: whirring servomotors, steel clanging against steel, shouts and wails.
Rade held his laser rifle ready in hand. The two robots in the back similarly kept their weapons at the ready, scanning the streets with him.
As the jeep neared the city core, many of the buildings showed signs of damage, the most prevalent being shattered windows, likely caused by the shockwaves of nearby explosions; glass littered the sidewalks and parts of the road in profusion. There were also boreholes from lasers in the plaster walls, and craters from rockets.
The vehicle traffic had let up entirely by then. Either the citizens had all evacuated the area, or no one dared take the roads here. With the ongoing fighting, there were no civilians or their helper robots out and about on the sidewalks either; this included the delivery drones that were usually prevalent beneath the thirty meter mark in any major city.
“The International Hotel is a few streets past here,” Shaw said.
Rade nodded. He had the destination highlighted as a waypoint on his overhead map.
She took a turn down a side street, and Rade immediately saw why the traffic had dried up. The route was littered with blast craters and the wreckages of vehicles, both ground- and air-based. Some of the buildings beside the road had partially or fully collapsed, the gypsum composing their walls fanning out across the roadway. One building was sheared open along the side, its interior exposed like a giant doll-house.
A war zone.
“Oh no,” Shaw said. “No. The International has to be still standing.”
“It will be,” Rade said.
He understood now why her parents had lost their access to the Internet. Without any drones or balloons to provide connectivity, the onus would be on the optic fibers embedded in the ground; but given the number of impact craters in the area, the buried lines had obviously been shorn right through. His Implant was still connected to buried comm nodes that formed adhoc networks in the area, though he didn’t expect that connection to last long.
Shaw backed out onto the main road and tried turning onto the next street. And the next. They were all impassible because of the sheer volume of debris.
“Looks like we’re going to have to walk from here on out,” Rade said.
Shaw parked the vehicle.
Rifles in hand, he, Shaw and the two robots exited the jeep. Rade marked the vehicle’s location on the map before proceeding.
The group members picked their way forward over the large gypsum and concrete fragments, crawling over the occasional belongings and furniture strewn amid the debris.
Rade paused beside the half buried, crushed body of a little girl. He thought of Sil, and his heart went out to the dead child. This girl had been alive, once. Loved. Had a full life ahead of her.
And the invaders had taken that away.
But there was nothing he could do about that. The safety of Earth was in the hands of the military. Rade was just one man trying to protect his family.
Muted explosions and shouts told him fighting was taking place somewhere nearby. Because of the way sound reflected from the buildings, he couldn’t tell the direction, or the distance.
“How close do you think we are to the front line?” Shaw asked.
“Can’t say,” Rade replied. “Could be one street away. That’s the problem with fighting in a city. The acoustics make determining the direction of the enemy really bad.” He was starting to wish they still had one of the farm drones with them to act as scouts. “Stay close to the building walls.”
“We just lost all access to the Internet,” Algorithm said. “Unsurprisingly.”
Rade and the others crossed the debris and kept close to the buildings as they advanced—those structures that were still intact, anyway. When they reached a fully collapsed building, Rade carefully peered past the ruins and into the adjacent street.
The devastation beyond was immense. Buildings had collapsed everywhere, giving Rade a view all the way to the port. He saw mechs, tanks, combat robots, and soldiers in jumpsuits dug in amid the rubble two streets away. Holed up in the street opposite them were Rade’s clones, and the laser-totting enemy scorpion units that he had seen on the news. Occasionally a robot amid the defenders turned on the Franco-Italian soldiers, who were forced to shoot it down.
With the jets gone, there was no air support, so Rade didn’t have to worry about a bomb dropping on his head. Though given how deeply entrenched the enemy units were, he wasn’t so sure that was a good thing.
Rade glanced at the overhead map. They were almost at the International Hotel. No point in turning back now.
Rade looked at his companions and gestured toward the ground, and then dropped. He and the others low-crawled through a trench of sorts that had formed naturally in the debris because of the way the building had collapsed. The walls of that trench shielded him and the others from the view of the adjacent street.
He passed a Franco-Italian soldier wearing a jumpsuit. The man was clambering upward toward the top of the rubble pile. He seemed a sniper of some sort, moving into position. The soldier gazed at Rade, and seemed about to tell him to go back, but then his eyes drifted to Rade’s arms. Likely he was noticing the hardpoints, and the musculature. And the rifles.
The soldier looked back at Rade, and if the man recognized him because of his similarity to the clones, he gave no indication of it. The man ran his eyes over the others, and then proceeded to scale the debris once more, evidently deeming the small team no threat.
Rade glanced at the rooftops and noticed other soldiers moving into position. The area was going to be getting extremely hot, very soon.
Pick up the pace, he texted, not daring to make any further sound that might distract these men.
Just then one of the Franco-Italians fell from a nearby rooftop and bounced across the debris, finally coming to a stop close to Rade.
Rade hurried to the man and checked for life signs. He met Shaw’s gaze, and shook his head. He paused to pilfer two grenades from the harness the dead man wore, and attached them to his belt via the small hooks in the sides.
When Rade saw Shaw’s eyes staring accusingly at him, he shrugged and texted: He won’t need them.
&n
bsp; In a few minutes they were past the debris, on their feet again, and well away from the snipers. They were making good time toward the hotel.
“I’d suggest not going back that way,” Rade said.
“I was going to suggest the same,” Shaw said.
“It’s a good sign that most of the buildings here are still standing,” Rade commented.
“It certainly is,” Shaw said. “Though I still can’t reach mom and dad.”
In another two minutes they arrived at the entrance to the International Hotel.
The building remained fully intact. Corrugated blast shields sealed off the main entrance and all windows. That was part of Franco-Italian building code: all hotels were required to install such metal shielding. It was a remnant of the days when terrorism had run rampant throughout the country. An unfortunate side effect of the shielding was that it would have trapped any occupants inside.
“Algorithm, see if you can get us in,” Rade said. “Assuming there is power.”
The Centurion approached the entrance. Rade knew Algorithm would be accessing the remote interface at that very moment.
“The building has power,” Algorithm said. “I’ve successfully elevated my privileges. Would you like me to rescind the entire blast shield, or just the portion sealing the entrance?”
“The entrance only, please,” Rade said.
The seal that covered the entrance slid upward, revealing glass sliding doors.
Rade approached and those doors parted. He entered the lobby.
A robot doorman stood just inside. “I’m sorry, but we are not honoring reservations at the moment,” the robot said in French. “Existing hotel guests only.”
“I’m an existing guest,” Rade said.
“Where is your digital passkey?” the robot demanded.
Rade swung his rifle toward the doorman. “Right here.”