Carl pointed at the mall.
The officer turned his back on Carl and said something low into the phone. After a brief exchange, the officer hung up the phone and handed it back to Carl. “That was your father.”
“I know.”
“So you said you saw a blue car?”
Back to business. “Yeah. I pulled up to the front of the mall to pick up my mother when I heard a car gunning toward the mall. I backed out of the way as the blue car crashed right into the entrance and exploded.”
“And your mother was by the entrance?”
Carl nodded, choking back a sob, and he began to shake.
The officer knew when enough was enough. “Thank you, sir. If we find anything out about your mother, we’ll let you know.” The officer walked off into the mayhem.
Carl sat there in the back of the ambulance trying to process what had just happened, because none of it seemed real at the moment. Maybe it was his mind defending itself against the horror of the reality of what had just occurred.
It was a terrorist attack.
The news had been warning of communications intercepted by government agencies about possible attacks. The targets were supposedly “soft” targets—malls, restaurants, and movie theaters. Apparently, the terrorists were no longer going for the large symbolic targets and the grand spectacles.
He looked the bastard right in the eye.
Suddenly waves of guilt began to pound the shores of his rational mind. What if he hadn’t glanced at the army recruitment station? What if he hadn’t gotten into that argument with his mom? What if he didn’t use the damned restroom? They would have left sooner and missed the explosion, that’s what.
It was his fault. Now here he sat in the back of an ambulance while his poor mother…
Why a freaking mall? Of all the places. In Texas no less. It was as if they were attacking the last semblance of capitalism. Americans were agoraphobic as is. Now they really wouldn’t leave the house.
The terrorists had tried to attack the internet, as it had become the last bastion of the free market. However, what prevented the government from regulating it had also prevented the terrorists from attacking it.
The internet was not just some collection of servers. It was something much bigger than that. The total had become much greater than the sum of its parts. The internet was arguably one of the great wonders of the world. It was intangible. It was a construct, an idea. It was the Wild West in digital form. One could knock out servers and nodes, but others would spring up.
It couldn’t be destroyed. It had become too damned big, too complex. It took on a life of its own, and its life consisted of millions of users around the globe. It was the free world.
So all that was left was to attack malls. They were some of the last public gathering places left in American society. The fact that they attacked one in a Texas suburb meant that no place was safe.
Homeland Security now couldn’t just focus on New York, Chicago, and the big cities, the obvious targets. There was no way they could protect every city and every little town across America.
Those bastards had learned to do what they did in their own back yards. In Afghanistan, Iraq, and Pakistan, it was not unusual for some suicide bomber to wander into a public place and blow himself up.
However, Carl never thought that one of them would come all the way to the United States to blow his poor mother up.
***
First Lieutenant Peter Birdsall stood at the ready with a platoon in reverse Vee formation, awaiting the release of the ID into the hangar. After a few rudimentary exercises, they had progressed to funneling the ID towards and into the Labyrinth, which was supposed to simulate a cave system.
The targets were three pigs at the end. Peter was glad that he did not actually have to enter the Labyrinth with them. No, this time he would remain outside.
They were using live rounds, and two field techs would sweep the building with the MR.UD’s to confirm that the targets had been neutralized. Peter had his finger on the Amygdala Inhibitor master switch, and they would lure the ID back out with more pigs and the retrieval frequency to funnel them back into their container.
Peter nodded to Sergeant Lorenzo, who in turn ordered the release of the ID. Electric nodes from the back of the container prompted the lethargic ID to leave, and they came stumbling out looking for food.
They passed the soldiers in the widened entrance of the Vee without incident, the suits doing their jobs in masking the soldiers’ presence to the ID. The ID funneled down and the flanks moved with them, their guns trained for headshots. Those at the widest ends of the Vee kept watch for insurgents, covering the rest of the platoon. The narrowed front covered the target structure, suppressing enemy fire. This was Peter’s design.
There were forty ID in this exercise, and all appeared to be running smoothly as they approached the Labyrinth.
But suddenly, at the mouth of the Vee, several ID turned on each other and began piling up. Within minutes, there was a heap of Insidious Drones humping each other as the rest of the mass stumbled around them.
Sergeant Lorenzo looked to Peter, who signaled for them to continue their advance. Lorenzo nodded and passed along Peter’s orders to continue.
This phenomenon was a regular nuisance in these exercises, but it was better than the ID turning on the men. That hadn’t happened in several exercises, and Peter kept his fingers nervously crossed over the AI kill switch.
The mass of ID that were not engaged in the humping suddenly came alive—so to speak—as they must have picked up the scent of the three pigs at the end of the Labyrinth. One soldier at the front of the formation breached the door and quickly got out of the way, as dozens of eager ID funneled into the front door.
The formation had accommodated the ancillary mass of humpers by flanking them and stopping the right flank at the location of the orgy. The left flank had advanced a bit further, skewing the Vee, but the formation was effectively maintained.
As the last of the ID filtered into the Labyrinth, Peter signaled to Lorenzo, who signaled to the two SWEEPERS to mobilize. They made their way down the reverse Vee and began to sweep the sides of the building under the cover of two separate squads.
Peter checked his watch and waited patiently. The two SWEEPERS were following the meandering mass of red ID from the sides of the building as the covering squads cleared the windows and flanks.
The ID were still minutes away from reaching the targets, which still registered as blue on the MR.UD’s. The pigs began to squeal and pace nervously in their back room, as if they knew what was coming for them.
The SWEEPERS saw the ID close the gap on their monitors, and dozens of red ID flooded the room as the pigs squealed in terror. The squeals turned into what one could only call screams, as their blue indicators faded out and vanished from the MR.UD monitors.
The SWEEPERS then radioed to Lorenzo, who in turn signaled to Peter that the neutralization of the targets had been confirmed. Peter then hit the AI kill switch, and the dozens of ID roaming the rooms of the Labyrinth, as well as the heap of amorous ID, became immobilized.
Normally they would set up more pigs and lure them out of the building, but the heaping pile of humpers would be behind the pigs, and they would have ID coming from two directions.
Peter needed to figure out a way to deal with the humpers before luring the other ID out of the building. “Lorenzo, how many humpers?”
Lorenzo ran up to the immobilized pile and began to count. He signaled ten.
This was a decision point. Peter could designate a few men to pull the heap apart, one-by-one, and drag them back to the container. However, this would cost them time and weaken the flanks. He had to account for an insurgent attack at any moment.
He could use one of the pigs to lure the humpers, while using the other two to lure the rest out of the Labyrinth in a kind of staggered extraction. But that would mean that the platoon would have to account for two groups of ID instead of one, and in thi
s game, complexity equaled accidents.
Another option would be to neutralize the humpers with headshots and then bring out the rest, but one of their directives was to minimize waste of ID soldiers. God forbid.
Peter had an idea. He called Lorenzo over. “Listen, we need to push the humpers back to the front door and then lure them all back into the funnel towards the container together.”
“So they’ll all move as one group,” Lorenzo finished. “We can set up a wall of fire for stopping power.”
“Make it so,” Peter commanded.
Lorenzo nodded and ran off to bark the orders. Several soldiers at the front of the Vee were instructed to back away and fire body shots at the humpers as they rose. The three pigs were set up about thirty feet in front of the humpers.
Lorenzo nodded to Peter, who then flipped the AI kill switch off. The humpers slowly began to move and look around. Then, catching the scent of the bait, they pushed themselves up and off each other and began to lurch towards the pigs.
Lorenzo ordered suppressive fire, and the small squad in front began to shoot the ID in the torsos, sending them staggering back against each other.
The SWEEPERS on either side of the building were indicating that the ID inside were just meandering around, bumping into one another, but they were not moving out of the structure.
Lorenzo relayed this info to Peter.
“Shit,” Peter snapped, “the bait isn’t close enough. They can’t smell it from in the building. And they’re not responding to the retrieval frequency.”
Just then, cardboard cutouts were popping up on either side of the formation, and the flanks began to open fire.
“Bring one of the pigs here,” Peter ordered.
The bait handler brought one over. Peter picked up the pig and shoved a grenade in its mouth. He waddled up to the humpers—who were now pushed back towards the front door—pulled the pin, and flung the pig with all of his might at the ID.
They stooped down and seized the pig as it exploded, raining flesh, blood, and guts all over them. They stood there, dazed for a moment.
The SWEEPERS on the sides of the building signaled movement out of the Labyrinth. Apparently, they caught the scent of pig blood and innards in the air.
Peter yelled, “Okay, boys, follow the leader.”
The humpers had regained their composure and started after the remaining two pigs. They followed them back up the funnel as the ID in the Labyrinth poured out and followed the scent of pig guts on the humpers.
As they passed, one ID turned towards Peter and reached out for him. He had the smell of pig on him. He fired a body shot at close range, pushing it back into the throng, and backed further away from the flank.
With the distance Peter put between them, the drone had apparently lost the scent or lost focus. It continued moving forward with the throng towards the other pigs.
The ID followed the pigs into the large shipping container, and when the last of them were in, the reinforced door was closed.
Peter checked his watch. “TIME.”
Lorenzo walked up to Peter. “How’d we do?”
“Not our best time, but we circumvented the humper situation without any loss of ID or human soldier.”
“All of the insurgent attackers were neutralized,” Lorenzo added.
“Not bad, but this time they were only cutouts. We have to do something about those damned humpers. There’s always some in every batch, and one way or another, they’re going to get us killed. We’ll discuss it in debriefing.”
Lorenzo nodded and rounded up the men.
Peter and Lorenzo stepped into the debriefing room. Lieutenant Farrow was already seated. Major Lewis was at the front of the room. Peter and Lorenzo saluted the Major and took their seats. Lockwood entered the room last, saluted the Major, and took his seat.
“What went wrong out there?” Major Lewis accused more than asked.
Peter was confused by the remark. “Well, given the circumstances, I think we did pretty well, sir.”
“We didn’t lose any soldiers or ID, and it wasn’t our slowest time, sir,” Sergeant Lorenzo added.
Peter turned to Lieutenant Farrow. “We need to do something about those humpers.”
“We’re trying to suppress the sexual behavior.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about. The problem is the Amygdala Inhibitors. The kill switch is all-or-nothing. What if we break the ID down into squads and there are separate AI switches.”
“Yes, but you’re assuming they’ll break down into squads to hump. What if pieces of multiple squads break off and hump? Then you’ll be deactivating entire squads, some who won’t be humping.”
“But it’ll be better than deactivating all of them.”
“It’s still too sloppy,” Major Lewis said dismissively.
What the hell were they supposed to do? It was as if he expected perfection.
“I have an idea,” said Lorenzo.
They all turned their gazes to Lorenzo, who continued, “I used to work on my father’s ranch, and we used to herd sheep with dogs.”
Major Lewis could not believe the suggestion. “Dogs?”
“Yeah, dogs. The sheep responded to them. I know it sounds low-tech.”
“But what if the ID try to eat the dogs?” Farrow asked.
“Exactly! Then they’ll follow the dogs. We can train the dogs to corral them. Like intelligent bait.”
“Great, just great,” said Major Lewis sarcastically. “Pigs, dogs…why don’t we have a whole goddamned zoo out there?”
“No, that actually makes sense,” Peter said with no small measure of epiphany. “We’ve been using pigs, but the pigs are too passive, and they’re afraid of the ID. But dogs, we can train them to run in the buildings after them and lure them back out, herding them like sheep. No more pigs.”
“It’ll be a lot more efficient,” Lorenzo added. “We won’t have to keep buying pigs.”
“I see,” said Major Lewis contemplatively. “We’ll discuss this dog idea. In the meantime, get cleaned up and get some rest. Dismissed.”
They all stood, saluted, and left the debriefing room.
In the hallway, Peter joked with Lorenzo. “Dogs, huh? It almost makes sense.”
“Yeah, it worked on the ranch. And it’s been done since the Wild West.”
“I guess that makes us cowboys, don’t it,” Peter jested.
“Yeah, I guess it does.”
Peter liked Lorenzo. He, too, was a native Texan. He reminded Peter of someone he would’ve hung out with in high school. They were about the same age. Lorenzo didn’t have a family of his own yet either. So when they went out on pass, they were great wingmen for one another, two tomcats on the prowl. They had a simpatico from day one.
Just like with Apone. The connection stung Peter. He didn’t want to get too attached. Not like last time. But Captain London would tell him that avoidance wasn’t the answer.
Speaking of Captain London, it was almost time for their next session. Sessions were often scheduled after training exercises.
“I’ll see you later,” he said to Lorenzo. “Got a date with the doctor.”
Lorenzo flashed him a you sly dog look and made for the barracks.
***
Peter stepped into Captain London’s office. He took his headgear off and saluted, and she gestured for him to sit.
However, this time there was something different about the office. It looked like an office. There was no holographic ambiance reflecting his childhood home. Was it broken?
“Peter, have you received a call from your brother, Carl?”
Peter looked perplexed at the question. “No, why?”
“Perhaps you should access your messages here.”
“Oh. Okay. Why the urgency?”
“I think you should hear it for yourself.”
Now Peter was concerned. What on earth was she talking about? He stepped around to the back of her desk, and she got up and gestured fo
r him to sit in her chair. “Peter, if you want me to leave the room for a moment…”
“Don’t be silly. You’re my therapist. Whatever it is, I’m sure it’ll be grist for the mill.”
She nodded in grave support.
Peter entered his username and password, and the com unit indicated that he had three messages. He pressed a button, and the first message began to play. It was Carl. It looked as if he had been crying.
Hi Pete. I’m calling because…well, I don’t know how to say it…there’s been an accident. It’s Mom. She’s…she’s dead, Pete.
Peter was stunned into silence. His mother, dead? How? Why?
I was picking her up at a mall. She was getting her usual Christmas Eve hairdo.
Carl’s voice began to waiver.
There was this creepy guy in the parking lot…nearly ran me over…I told Mom to wait…I needed to use the bathroom…
Carl paused as if he was choking on the next words to come out of his mouth.
The guy drove his car into the mall and blew it up. Mom was right by the front entrance waiting for me to pull the car up. It was raining and I…
Peter was no longer listening to what Carl had to say. First Apone and his squad, and now his own mother? He could understand his squad; it was an occupational hazard, but his mother was supposed to be safe back in the States. She was supposed to play cards with her friends and go out to eat with his father. He was supposed to be the one throwing himself in harm’s way for her…for everyone.
“Son of a bitch.”
“Now, Peter, let’s talk about this. That’s why you’re here.”
“That’s why I’m here? That’s why I’m here? I thought I was here to keep my head straight in the Insidious Drone Program, not to discuss my mother being blown up to kingdom come!”
“I understand how you feel, Peter.”
He looked at her with such bile. What a ridiculous statement.
“You? You understand how I feel? You’re a goddamned noncombatant.”
“I’ve had friends, comrades die in the call of duty…”
“Friends. Comrades. My poor damned mother, also a noncombatant, was just blown up.”
I Am Automaton Page 9