AMP Armageddon

by Stephen Arseneault

  I raised the Duke on the comm. “Interesting indeed! I just watched one of your power stations shrink away to nothing! I think you may have a leak in the inner wall of this place now, Duke. Imagine that. The gravity of that brown dwarf has a small opening into this complex. I wonder if I could make that hole bigger?”

  As I turned back towards the empty inner wall where the power station had once been in operation, I was met with repeated ion blasts from androids who had come to the damaged area. After seeing my suit’s absorption level climb to 56 percent, I turned and powered away, changing course several times in the process.

  Over the following two days, the fight between the Duke and I continued. The clock of my continued existence, however, was ticking away. My filter showed 15 percent used, along with 11 percent for my food. With the updates to the power cells in my prosthetics and power pack, powering my needs was not an issue.

  As I continued to avoid the Duke’s minions, I took out one power conversion building after another. I knew the effect on the Duke to be minimal, but it was the only fight I had to give. After a long session of twists and turns, I drifted up into one of the portal buildings and found a corner to rest in. I set a sleep timer for eight hours and slipped quietly into oblivion.

  Chapter 7

  With the active skin of the Duke’s complex enabled, I had no further communication with Frig. Had he fought against the Duke’s ships that had destroyed the containment structure? Had he taken the initiative to head to the Saw Blade galaxy to offer assistance to our people? Or, was he lurking about in free space, waiting for an opportunity to offer me assistance? Those were the questions that I did not have answers to.

  After waking from my rest, I decided to once again pay the Duke a visit. As I passed by one of the power conversion buildings that I had previously destroyed, I was disappointed to see that reconstruction was already well under way. An army of bots was at work. The power conversion plant would be online within a few days.

  I powered towards the Duke’s lair, steering clear of the power buildings below. After an hour’s flight time, I drifted through the outer Tantric wall. Crossing of the fortified area went without incident, and I soon found myself powering to a stop within the inner Tantric wall. With a single short burst, I then drifted through to the Duke’s control room on the other side.

  In less than three days, the control room had been almost completely rebuilt. The Duke was nowhere to be found, and the army of bots within was finishing up the reconstruction of thousands of holo-displays that lined the room.

  The Duke came over my comm. “Mr. Grange, being the gracious host that I am, I would like to offer you one more opportunity to turn yourself in. I promise to repatriate you to your lovely wife and friends. They need your fight and your spirit if they are to survive the War of Wars!”

  I replied, “No dice, Duke. As I said, this war is between you and me. Besides, just going back to my people is a losing proposition. Even if we win the coming battles, you will do away with us in the end.”

  The Duke huffed. “Mr. Grange! All of the victors of the War of Wars have been taken to a galaxy of peace and prosperity. Their remaining lives are rich and full. I believe one of your Human sayings is ‘To the victor go the spoils!’”

  I scowled. “There is no galaxy of peace and prosperity, Duke. That is all designed to give hope where no hope should exist. All species in your War of Wars will be losers. You derive no pleasure from rewarding a winner; you only wish to watch the game as it plays out. And as for your promises, you have no morals, no conscience; your word is meaningless.”

  The Duke was silent for a moment before he responded. “I grow weary of this discussion, Mr. Grange. It is time we parted ways. Your people will suffer with the loss of your leadership.”

  I didn’t like the sound of the Duke’s statement. I powered my BHD to full and managed to only take a glancing blow from the fifty or so android soldiers who had floated into the room without my knowledge. The active skin shot to 87 percent before I disappeared into the nearest Tantric wall.

  For a reason that made no sense at the time, I turned and circled to the right, powering back into the Duke’s room through a different angle. As I emerged from the wall, I was rewarded with the sight of the Duke standing in his android body, facing away from me. A quick shot from my coil gun caught him off guard, shattering his android transport into a million tiny pieces. As I headed for the far wall, I fired a second round at the head, which had remained largely intact. It shattered into a thousand bits of debris.

  Without the Duke giving orders, the androids that gave chase all suddenly stopped. I again circled back through the inner wall into the Duke’s hosting room. As I pulled to a stop, I waited for another android assault, but none was forthcoming. Without orders, the androids all returned to their pre-invasion positions and powered down. Without continuing orders, the androids who would have gone back on patrol remained in their positions. The complex was free of the Duke’s influence!

  Within the room, I moved from one holo-display to another, looking for a control panel that would guide me through turning off the active sodium skin. None was to be found. I disabled my active skin and hopped onto the Duke’s pedestal. Connectors for an interface to the complex were there and were active, but I had no way of knowing how to connect in.

  After two days of struggling to come up with an escape plan, a new thought rocketed through my brain. I pulled up data that Frig has sent in relation to finding the Humans. A sweep through a portal building designated as AXB44277 had my mind racing. I powered out of the Duke’s room, through the fortified outer room, and on into the free area of the complex just beyond. Minutes later I was on a path that would take me to the designated portal building.

  Five hours passed before my journey came to a stop. As I carefully drifted into the room that housed the portals, I took a moment to run a scan through my HUD. I was rewarded with a scene of a Grid as seen from the outside.

  I spoke to myself. “OK, Grange, you found ’em. Now let’s see if we can figure out a way to get back to ’em.”

  The portal room had a multitude of control panels that lined a far wall. After thoroughly investigating nearly three-quarters of the controls, I came across a dial labeled “Aperture.” A simple twist to the right opened a portal ten centimeters in diameter. A second twist brought the portal to a size that I could easily step through. Five seconds later, I was floating in the free space just outside of the Grid with my fist pumping wildly into the blackness of space around me.

  I powered myself into the Alpha Bay dock and set down gently by the doors that led out into the Alpha section. After disabling my active skin and removing my helmet, I walked through the doors to the Alpha section, only to find the internal layout to be different than before.

  I stopped the first person walking past me to ask them a question. “Excuse me. Do you know where Colonel Harper has set up his war room? I have some big news for him.”

  The person returned a confused stare as they continued past me in a hurried walk. I attempted my question with two more passersby and received a similar response. In a huff, I spun around and walked down a hall towards Jasper’s bar. When I rounded the corner, I entered a large room with hundreds of people sitting at long bench-like tables. Apparently, Jasper’s did not exist on the Grid the Humans had been moved to.

  I stepped in front of a patron as he walked towards the exit. “Excuse me, could you direct me to where the Council meets?”

  The patron replied, “I got no idea of what the Council is. You might talk to Miss Angie over there. She’s directing much of this area. What’s that suit you have on? Do you work down in the chemical labs? I heard they were looking for workers there.”

  I shook my head. “No, Sir. I’m just looking for our military leadership.”

  The patron pointed down the hallway as he continued on his way. “Take the stairs down three decks. You won’t be able to miss them.”

  I turned and walk
ed to the stairs of the transway, looking about at the people who walked past me. They each dressed in identical outfits, with only the colors being different between the sexes and ages. Young males wore red, while their older counterparts wore blue. Female children frittered about in yellow as the women walking with them wore green. The adults’ eyes were not full of life as were those who lived on the Grid. They were instead governed by angst and fear.

  After traversing the stairs, I came to the first individual in a uniform. “Excuse me, could you direct me to Colonel Harper and the Admirals?”

  The enlisted man responded, “Sorry, Sir. This is a military zone. Unless you have signed up, you are not allowed on this deck.”

  I replied, “Signed up?”

  The enlisted man pointed back towards the stairs. “Go back up one deck and follow the hallway out to the first corner. You should see a line of new recruits there. Hop in it, and they will get you signed up.”

  It suddenly hit me why everyone was acting so strange. Memory of where they had come from had been erased. Admiral Zimmerman might not be an admiral, and Colonel Harper was probably no longer a colonel. They would not have knowledge of our last war or of the technology we had used to fight it.

  I asked the enlisted man, “Can you bring around your commanding officer? I would like to have a word with him or her.”

  The man half frowned. “Please wait here, Sir. I will bring the lieutenant around.”

  Two minutes later, a scrappy young man rounded the corner following the enlisted man who had been standing guard.

  When the lieutenant arrived, he spoke. “What’s the issue here, Sir? We are a busy group. If you are looking for recruiting, that is one level up.”

  I spoke. “I am not interested in enlisting, Lieutenant. I would like to talk to an officer several levels up the chain of command from yourself, if you don’t mind. No disrespect to your rank intended, but I have information that is critical to the defense of this station.”

  The lieutenant replied, “I’m sorry, Sir. If you have important information, I would be happy to pass that along to my superiors.”

  I half smiled. “OK, Lieutenant. Would you like the information about the gravity drives that allow this station to move? Or perhaps about the hydrogen stores and generation stations that power this place? Or maybe information on the gun turrets that line the exterior of this station and how they are controlled? Maybe you could relay to your superiors how you fly the harvesters that are likely just sitting in the spaceports several decks below this one?”

  The lieutenant held up his hand. “Wait here, Sir. I’ll fetch the major.”

  I soon had five officers standing in front of me listening to my questions about what information I was willing to share.

  The major spoke. “Well, Mr. Grange, you are either a very informed individual or a crackpot. At the moment I can’t tell which. Follow me, Sir. I’ll take you to the general.”

  I replied, “General? What’s the general’s name?”

  The major replied, “General John Hammond, Sir. He is in charge of the Fourth Army. He’s a fair man, so he should give you a minute or two to state your case. I hope you aren’t putting me in a tight spot, Mr. Grange. The general’s time is extremely valuable. We are still trying to reorganize from whatever it was that happened to us.”

  I placed my left hand on the major’s shoulder as we walked. “Hopefully that will all be revealed to you soon enough, Major. I have some of that information.”

  When we entered the general’s office, he was busy with an old-style marker and a makeshift whiteboard. I had to laugh to myself, as the touch-wall on which the whiteboard hung remained unused.

  The general turned as the major spoke. “General Hammond, Sir. I have an individual here who says he knows a lot about this station. He was convincing enough for me to bring him to see you, Sir. I’ll wait by the door if you would like us to escort him back.”

  The general was a tall, slender man. The bags around his eyes, the natural scowl, and the scars on his face told of a man who had been through many battles.

  The general spoke. “State your case, Sir. And be quick about it; I don’t have all day.”

  I replied, “General, my name is Don Grange. I know you probably don’t remember me, or better, who I am, but I have information that will greatly increase your chances of survival on this station.”

  The general eyed my BGS suit. “Mr. Grange. You have one minute to convince me that I should hear you out. With the threats we have recently detected, I have a lot of work to do to prepare for our defense.”

  I placed my helmet on my head and locked it into place. The general looked on suspiciously. I smiled just before blinking out. The general stepped back, and a lieutenant nearby stepped in front of him with a raised knife.

  I blinked back in and removed my helmet, once again placing it under my right arm. “I hope that buys me a little longer than a minute, General.”

  The general gestured towards a table and chairs. “Have a seat, Mr. Grange. I think the remainder of my morning just freed up.”

  I sat, placing my helmet on the table beside me. “First, do you know Tom Harper? Michael Zimmerman?”

  The general shook his head. “Those names are not familiar to me. Colonel Kelly, look those names up in the registry. If you find them, bring them to us.”

  The colonel replied as he saluted, “Yes, Sir, General.”

  As the colonel turned away with his task, I spoke. “How much have you learned about operating this station, General?”

  The general crossed his arms. “We are making progress. Since we arrived here, we organized the hydroponics, and food distribution is going smoothly. I had hoped to organize our defense around those gun turrets on the station’s exterior, but we haven’t a clue as to how those things are controlled.”

  I replied as I stood, “I think I can show you that, General.”

  I picked up the whiteboard and moved it to the side. Returning to the touch-wall, I placed my hand on a small red square. The wall lit up.

  After selecting several icons, I had the gun turret information display up. “Hmm. These are a little different than they used to be. There are a few icons missing on this screen. It used to have a gear symbol for using the controls. And I don’t see the one showing the control room at all.”

  The general stood and approached the touch-wall. “That looks like a useful tool, Mr. Grange. I wish we had known about it a few months ago.”

  The colonel returned to the room. “Sir, we don’t have a Tom Harper or a Michael Zimmerman listed. For Harper, we have an Alexander, a Charles, and a Cynthia. Zimmerman has a Noah and a Beldric.”

  I spoke. “How complete is your registry, General?”

  The general replied, “We have a complete listing of all 720 million of us.”

  The colonel raised his hand. “I don’t mean to interrupt, General, but we didn’t find a Don or a Donald Grange either.”

  I looked at the general. “Did you just say you have 720 million people, General?”

  The general nodded. “I did.”

  I spoke. “How long have you been on this station?”

  The general replied, “Ninety-six days and counting. Why?”

  I stumbled over to the table and sat down. “General, you aren’t my people. I mean, you are, but you aren’t!”

  The general walked over and stood next to me. “You are going to have to tell me what you are referring to, Mr. Grange. At the moment, I don’t have a clue what you are saying.”

  I looked up. “General, our people, Humans, come from a galaxy called the Milky Way. We originated on a planet called Earth. Over a thousand years ago, our entire species, nearly four billion people, was snatched from our home and dropped onto five stations very similar to the one we have here today. Our ancestors called those stations Grids. My people, nearly eight hundred million at the time, occupied Grid number four. I believe that your people, now 720 million, inhabited the station we called Gri
d-1.”

  I continued, “Our little fleet of five stations was attacked by another species, and three of our Grids, along with their people, were destroyed and killed in the fighting. Grid-1 enabled their gravity drive and sped away in one direction, while my people on Grid-4 went in a separate direction. For a thousand years, we have not seen or heard from Grid-1. We thought you to be lost.”

  I continued to give the general a brief story about our beginnings, our fight in the Triangulum, and our current problem in the Saw Blade.

  The general looked at me. “Mr. Grange, that is a fantastic story, but you don’t have any proof to back up what you say. If what you say is true, our current set of weapons will be wholly inadequate. Bludgeons and axes are not going to win us our freedom.”

  I shook my head. “You are correct, General. They won’t be enough. The Duke and his partners mean to have you fight against these other species with the weapons they have provided. Each of the species stuck in these sick games has been equipped with these same weapons. It looks like the gun turrets on this station are automated. Are there any transport ships aboard or warships?”

  The general replied, “All of the bays are empty, Mr. Grange.”

  I placed my hand over my goatee and gently stroked it as I thought. “How much training have you been doing with the weapons you have, General?”

  The colonel stepped up. “Sir, if I may answer.”

  The general nodded, and the colonel continued, “We have been training squads on the use of the bludgeons and axes for only a few weeks. There are huge stockpiles of these weapons aboard, so it was decided that we better figure out how to use them.”

  The general spoke. “Tell us about that suit you are wearing, Mr. Grange. Is that something we can make use of?”

  I replied, “Wow, General, I don’t know the answer to that. On the one hand, it would certainly give you a huge advantage over anyone carrying those types of weapons, but I don’t know how we would manufacture them. Besides, I think that as soon as the Duke and his pals spot you, they would be stripped off, or, knowing the Duke, you might just be eliminated as a species.”