by Tony Teora
Karr sat at his desk while Ace and Ivan sat on a short couch, squeezed in tightly next to each other. Karr frowned. “Men, we’re in some deep shit here. Some land-based laser cannon or particle weapon shot down our orbiting missile nukes, so GEN-6 is still active. I need to know exactly what the hell’s going on down there.”
Ace and Ivan told their story, with Ace leading the explanation. Karr barely interrupted, asking only for slight details. The discovery that this might be a secret BOT facility concerned the captain. When they were done, he looked at Ace. “Archer, I’m sorry about Jimbo, Janice, and Kiya. Everyone knew the risks, but I know that won’t take away the pain. Believe me, this hurts me a lot, too.”
“Sir, are you sure they were all aboard the shuttle?”
“I don’t see why not. We got a message from the pilot saying all were boarding and that they were lifting off in five minutes. I’m assuming everyone got on board. Why do you ask?”
“I know it’s strange, sir, but I’ve been getting this feeling that Kiya’s still alive. I don’t know why, but I really feel strange about it.”
“Ace, when people die—especially people close to us—our first reaction is to reject it. Now, I’m not saying I’m 100 percent sure she’s dead, but she was scheduled to be on that shuttle. And if I’m correct, and from the story you just told me, you ordered her to get on that shuttle.”
“I did, sir, and you’re probably right. It’s just that woman’s got into my head. I’m feeling crazy shit about her, and I thought it was a telepathic signal, so I thought ...” Ace lost his words and paused.
Karr put his hand on Ace’s shoulder and spoke softly. “People we care about do that, Ace. It really sucks, and this is gonna take time to heal. But frankly speaking, we don’t have a lot of time here. I need you, especially you, in the game. We have a whole bunch of people on Earth counting on us to do our jobs. Now, I hope these losses won’t affect your judgment. I think we’re all gonna need to re-evaluate what to do here. The ship is under repair and because of those lasers. I’m gonna send in Colonel Manpower and his troops. I was hoping to limit exposure down there, but things are too unstable to know what’s really going on without boots on the ground.”
Karr looked at Ace who was blankly staring at planet Kabballah through a small oval port window. He could see that Ace lost something dear to him. “I want you and Ivan to take a break, get some rest. You’re gonna be an important part of the plan, ’cause I need a pilot to help drop a big one on GEN-6, and I know you’re the man. We’re going to go to Plan B tomorrow morning. We gotta knock out that Dream Land facility. I want you and Ivan to assist with logistics and any hairy shit, but Manpower’s in charge of this one.”
“Plan B, sir? Am I or Ivan in charge of any part of Plan ‘B’?”
“You’ve done more than required, Ace. I think Colonel Manpower’s the man for this new operation, but I want you and Ivan to assist. We’ve got to nuke this place. I’m concerned about this damn underground Dream Land base that might have been built there. Earth Command doesn’t want us take any chances. That kind of facility might survive an overhead blast, and we have to make 100 percent sure we take out this facility, so we’re gonna need to get into this thing. I want Ivan to assist since he’s an explosives expert, but I think the plans are gonna be somewhat unorthodox, since they come from Professor Hiro Tanaka. I’ve asked him to cook something up, and quick.”
“I don’t think Hiro likes us, Captain. I, ah … destroyed Krill a while back.”
“That was you in the fight? I should have known. Don’t worry about it. He’s got Krill fixed and has a bag of ideas on how to assist dirtside. For now, I want you and Ivan to get some rest. You’ll be going down with the team in twenty-four hours. If all goes well, the base will be nuked and you and Ivan will be back on the Aurora within another Earth day. In the meantime, I want you both to get a shower, get some grub and some rest. Believe me, tired minds make tired decisions, so that’s an order.”
Ace had to admit he was hungry and tired. They’d been fighting and struggling for more than fifteen hours. Still, something kept telling him to go back and try to save Kiya. But that had to be guilt, plain old guilt. “Yes, sir.”
Ivan nodded “Yes sir, Kapitan!”
“Good, now both of you, get outta here.”
Ace and Ivan stood up, saluted, and left the room.
***
Karr called into the science laboratory. “This is the captain. I want to speak to Dr. Hank Kumar.”
A few seconds passed. “This is Dr. Kumar.”
“Doctor, this is Karr. Ace and his team brought in some kind of alien robot parts. I want you to put them in a bio-containment lab and figure out what we have here. Bring in Hiro, I want him involved. Maybe he can use the data for our warbot interfaces. He’s working on a recon system and we need all the help we can get. If there’s some kind of communication link, some kind of stored memory, anything—I need to know. I suspect Manpower will encounter these buggers on Kabbalah, and I want anything we can get on them, especially weaknesses—and I need it ASAP. You up for the job?”
“Oh yes, Captain … ah, yes, sir ... yes sir! Actually, I’m looking forward to the job. You know I studied biotechnologies and bio-integrated circuitry along with artificial intelligent algorithms, so they’re my specialty. My thesis was in—”
Karr knew Kumar was a talker and cut him off. “That’s great, Dr. Kumar. I’m in a bit of a rush here, so please get started now and get back to at 0800. Let me know what you’ve found out with a preliminary report. I want that before Manpower and his men ship out tomorrow.”
“Will do, sir.”
“Captain out.”
***
Ace and Ivan showered and went to the mess. They sat in a quiet corner.
Ace chewed on a fatty-tasting vitoburger. “I miss Kiya and Janice. I can’t believe those crazies blew up the fuckin’ shuttle.”
“Many things bad here, Ace. I feel it in my bones, something bad down there—worse than bugs.”
“I know, I feel the same thing. This place has a vibration.” Ace swallowed some vitowater; it was a cool, minty flavor and refreshing.
“It’s not vibration, it’s evil. We need to wipeout and go home. If I finish this job alive, me and Sonja getting married.”
“Married? You’re gonna get married, Ivan? Are you sure?”
“I sure, she is good woman. Time to retire and live life … this place, this job … it’s death.”
“Well, I’m happy for ya, buddy. I wish you the best.”
“I wish you happy life, too, Ace. We already did our jobs, many worlds … many dead. This is last job.”
“Thanks, Ivan.”
Ace finished his dinner, mostly eating quietly and thinking about Ivan’s comments. Maybe Ivan was right. Even though Ace had only completed eight years, as a Big Gun, he could leave and retire in one. Hell, you had a 20 percent chance of dying per year, so you’d put in your time for the country. But being essentially a super man was addictive. You were faster, stronger than other men. The money put into your body was equivalent to a top new fighter war-drone. Leaving that to become a mortal … well, maybe Ivan was right. Maybe it was time to pack it in. Ace finished his meal and walked quietly back to his stateroom. It was time for some rest.
***
Ace sat on his stiff stateroom bed and looked at a picture of Vermont and Lake Willoughby. It was a winter picture of the frozen lake. People had asked Ace why he kept so many pictures of the dark, cold winter in Vermont and not more of the green, fresh spring. That question forced Ace to admit to himself that he found life harsh, especially his personal life. It was fun, but harsh—especially Ace’s romantic life, if you could call it “romantic.”
Romanticism for Ace revolved around finding one-night stands, and that was reasonably easy—and a smart thing to do, considering anything longer might cause issues for a Big Gun who might die at any moment in some unknown, unofficial war. On leave, Ace and h
is buddies drank, smoked cigars, and got laid a lot. Then the next weekend or time off, they’d do the same thing. It actually made a lot of sense, as you never knew when you’d have another chance at relaxing and doing something fun with your friends. Working with the Big Guns on all these crazy, off-Earth assignments meant moving around a lot, if you were lucky. The unlucky ones were killed on these high-risk missions. But then again, all Big Gun missions were high-risk missions.
This mission with Kiya, though … well, there was something about her that told Ace that she might make a great friend or lifelong partner. For the first time in his life, Ace felt like he might have found his match. But that was all nonsense … she’d died on the shuttle with the others. Hadn’t she? Still, something inside him that kept talking, someone praying for help, begging for him to come back and save her … was that possible?
Ace took a final swig of his glass of Jack Daniels, which he’d snuck onto the ship, and lay back on his bed and went into a deep, intoxicated sleep.
About three hours into his restful slumber, he started to dream about Kiya and a place she was hiding … a place on Kabbalah. He could see her cold, scared, tired, and hungry. As Ace drifted into his new dream, he swore she’d changed cloths into a sexy robe. He could smell her delicate, flower-like perfume, a scent uniquely Kiya. Then he saw her red robe drop off … yes, this was a wonderful dream, and Ace would savor every minute…
***
Meanwhile, in Chip Tucker’s cell …
Security Guard Giles walked over to Holding Cell A2 and looked over at Tucker, who was lying in his cot. “Well, here’s your grub, scumbag. Come and get it while it’s hot.”
Giles looked over and saw that Tucker wasn’t moving and that he had a sock wrapped around his neck and tied to a bed post. It looked like he’d done this to restrict blood flow for the one last, big sleep. Tucker looked like he’d hung himself in bed.
“Idiot,” mumbled Giles as he pulled out his sidearm. “This better not be bullshit.” Giles opened the electro-laser gate and slowly walked into the room. Sure enough, there was no breathing—Tucker was dead. Giles used his left hand to tap his comm when a foot shot up in the air and kicked away Giles’ sidearm. Giles rushed to grab Tucker, but Tucker was up and hit Giles with a punch to the throat that felt like it came from Superman. His neck broke. Giles fell to the ground.
Tucker looked over Giles with black eyes, like a shark looking at a wounded fish. He then changed into Giles’ cloths and casually walked out of the brig and toward the Engineering and Medical Laboratory. There were a few friends who needed some help.
I believe that sex is one of the most beautiful, natural, wholesome things that money can buy.
—Steve Martin
17
_________
Sex Gaming
Electronic Warfare Officer Lieutenant James Swann entered the quarantined section of the Aurora Engineering and Medical Laboratory, known as the EML, as excited as a kid who’d just got his first toy rocket to launch into the stratosphere. The discovery of the alien robots and EBE-C3s would definitely change Earth forever. Like an ant entering a honey jar, Swann scanned his access card and went into a reinforced Kevlar glass room containing the robot parts.
Inside were Hiro Tanaka and Medical Engineer Hank Kumar. Hiro was pulling parts from a broken robot. Swann approached Hank, who was adjusting dials on an electroencephalographic device. Hank was one of Swann’s few close friends. Each felt they could trust one another because each was special. Hank was one of the few with true mind control, and this gave him confidence in dealing with Swann’s telepathic abilities.
In a way, Swann was more impressed with Hank’s special control of his mind than with his own telepathic abilities, and this created an interesting friendship. Hank was an expert in the study of Raja Yoga, and although he did not have super-strong telepathic abilities, he could control his mind better than anyone Swann had ever met. Swann was studying Yoga but found it almost impossible to get the mind control Hank achieved.
Swann walked near Hank and awkwardly smiled at a robot’s wired-up head and upper torso. It was hooked to a stand with a small, quarter-inch plastic IV tube running black fluid to it. An attached machine filtered the fluid and returned it to the head. Swann laughed at the contraption. “Hey Hank, whatcha got cooking here? Boy, has this one’s got a loose screw.”
Hank was dressed in a white robe. He ignored Swann and continued to click buttons on his TekPad. He walked around the robot, scanning a slew of sensors attached to the body. Monitors in the room showed various signals. Swann noticed some alpha and beta waves on a screen. Hank was monitoring an artificial intelligence processing unit. Brain wave patterns illuminated a 3-D screen. Hank nodded confidently. “Swann, me and Hiro finally got into this new robot’s head. This one’s amazing.”
Swann inspected the broken robot. The head, chest, and arms were intact, but the legs and lower waist sections were missing. “What about the full-body ones? Why you working on this broken one?”
“This one’s perfect. Didn’t get much damage at all.”
Swann raised an eyebrow. “In case you didn’t have your vision 20/20 eye-lasered lately, it’s missing its whole lower extremity. Hiro over there’s working on the full ones. Right, Hiro?”
“Oh, these are full, all right—full of bullets in their heads. That crazy Russian shot the shit out of the heads.”
Hiro waved Swann over to the other body and ran a scanner over the robot’s head. “But I’m gonna give this boy a new head. I think I can interface it with some of my gaming chips. Remote control, just like Krill.”
“Really? What for?” asked Swann, who wanted to read Hiro’s thoughts but resisted.
“Colonel Manpower wants Ace and Ivan to take one down as a spy, so I’m gonna wire this sucker up for recon. Hey guys, I have to run to a meeting. By the way, Swann, who skinned your head? You look like one of those jar heads.” Hiro smirked and left the lab.
Swann wanted to say something but kept quiet. Hiro exited the main room, laughing. Swann frowned, looking at Hank’s long, civilian hair and rubbing his own, freshly cropped hair. “That fuckin’ computer hack Hiro is so weird … Anyhow, Amanda said I look more mature with the haircut. Handsome, to be exact.”
Hank reached over and plugged a cable into the back of the opened robot head and laughed. “You trying to get laid in space, Swann boy? Thought you preferred men. Boy, you must be getting desperate.”
“None of the women—or guys—on this ship wants to have anything to do with me. Shit, with my luck with women, I’d have a better chance at screwing one of your stupid broken robots.
Hank frowned. “Don’t try screwing any of these robots, Swann. If you put your dick in one of the wrong holes there, you might get it blown off.”
“My dry spell could kill a camel. I might actually enjoy that,” said Swann, laughing.
“What’s the matter, dude? You okay?”
“Oh, I’m just frustrated being stuck on this flying rock. No one trusts me because they know I’m telepathic, and I miss having a real date with someone.” Swann winked at Hank, half joking.
Hank shook his head, knowing Swann was bisexual. “Well, my DNA was programmed to be 100 percent into women, so you’ll get no luck in this room. And anyhow, robot sex ain’t all that bad, Swann. No dinner, no trying to talk up big stories, no disease, guaranteed good time—and best of all, no restraining orders.”
“You don’t mess with that stuff, do you?”
Hank laughed. He knew all about the recent trend of having sex with robots that looked real. The Japanese created the first one, called “Mika”, who had the look, feel, and even temperature of a normal, living human being. She also had fifty different sexual program algorithms—the Kama Sutra of gaming.
The whole new sex gaming industry fascinated Swann. Although he preferred something real, even with all the hassles, sex gaming had its merits, especially during dry spells. Since Hank, too, had been living in the de
sert the last few years, he had the latest model in his stateroom—but that was no one’s business. Hank typed into his keyboard. “I never kiss and tell on my girl—her circuits might fry. Hey, look at this!”
Swann walked over and saw a scan of the robot’s brain. It had more than triple the brain mass of any Earth robot. It also had about ten different chips wired into the brain. A round device like a golf ball was also connected in the forehead section. “This is way different from any robot technology on Earth. This thing has almost as many neurons as a human brain, maybe more.”
“More?”
“Yes, more.”
“The mass looks to be about half the size of a human brain, Hank. How can it have more?”
“Look over here on the electron microscope. The neurons are designed more simply. They’re just about half the size of human neurons. Plus, see those chips? I think they have a silicon equivalent of a neuron in the chips, too.”
“Wow. Holy shit, Hank, this robot could think like a human.”
“Maybe better, with all the added chips. Boy, those infected scientists created one hell of a worker robot. This thing could probably do your laundry while composing the next Mozart symphony and calculating the velocity of a black hole’s event horizon speed. This boy’s got a brain.”
Swann looked at the shiny silver head. It had two large, black, bulb-looking eyes. The nose area was merely a covered, round filter opening, probably to sense gases. No mouth, so it didn’t eat. Or did it? “Hank, what does the robot do for energy? Is that black fluid food?”
“That black fluid is actually like blood. It has white—or should I say, black—corpuscles. It’s also mixed with minerals and vitamins. I had to synthesize it—with a few added minerals. Human blood converts perfectly. Seems like when limpy here lost his lower section, the body went into backup survival mode. It re-circulated the black blood in the head. As for how it gets blood-like nutrients, I can’t figure that out. I checked out the torso section of the other robot and found an opening near the stomach area. I think someone fills ’em up like an old petrol station, or puts them on some kind of filtering machine, kinda like what I’m doing here. Their blood is real efficient, probably doesn’t need a recharge for weeks. One real efficient worker robot.”