I didn’t protest. I have a deep and abiding love of root beer flavored candy.
Chapter 4
Helsinki, Finland
January 21st, 2200
Ezra’s War Journal, Part 6
The day following the liberation of Helsinki General consisted of wandering about looking for a warehouse and using the old auxiliary public to try and notify people still looking for shelter that there was some to be had and where. When we finally found a warehouse that might have what we were looking for, it was unpowered and lacked door controls on site. This didn’t deter us. Eamon and I took turns through the early morning hours battering one of the overhead doors down with a sledge hammer.
I worried about the noise we were making, but worried more about my stomach going without food. When we’d made enough of a gap for me to slip through, I went inside and began slipping food out to many waiting and hungry hands. The warehouse wasn’t particularly full, but the food was still good and well packaged, a lucky find that was not to be repeated any time soon.
“This is just a distribution warehouse. The larger ones will have doors we can’t break down,” Eamon said stuffing his pockets.
Making her way through the crowd, I could see a Canine Metasapient wearing the same sort of tactical gear as Eamon. She was tall with pristine white fur and unnervingly blue eyes. There were flecks of blood across her face and shoulders. She smelled of death and gunpowder. Eamon saw her too and called out to her.
“Abbey, are you alright?” Eamon bellowed as he made a path to her out in the crowd.
“Eamon! Hello,” she responded.
Taylor and I wandered along behind Eamon while Silverstein continued to hand out food to the crowd. There was something odd about this particular law dog. I couldn’t put my finger on it at first. It wasn’t until I got close that I realized she wasn’t a Type Two Metasapient. It was far more likely she was like myself, a Type One, similarly trained. A tailored life form with only two functions, survive and kill the enemy.
She regarded me in much the same way that I did her, with caution. I don’t know how we were able to recognize each other to this day. We just sort of knew.
“Eamon, where is the rest of our patrol division?” Abbey asked.
“You are the only one I’ve been able to contact. The others are probably still on patrol in outlying areas. They might not even know what has transpired yet. I wouldn’t have if it weren’t for these folks,” Eamon explained, as he gestured to Taylor and me.
“Patrolling in outlying areas, or dead,” Abbey said, as if to finish what Eamon had avoided to say.
“What makes you think that?” Taylor said, interjecting.
“You the one that opened the hospital?” Abbey replied, momentarily ignoring the question.
“Yes.”
“There are humans that believe Metasapients are abominations, and they form secret organization and cults to that end. I wouldn’t be surprised if they used the current lawlessness to try to kill us,” Abbey explained.
Taylor and I left Abbey and Eamon alone to talk after that, heading back over to where Silverstein was standing. He handed off the last of the food and clapped invisible dust from his hands, garnering some satisfaction at having helped the hungry crowd. I wondered about this human practice, but declined to ask about it.
“Looks like we’ve got another Metasapient member of law enforcement as an ally. Where are the human cops?” Silverstein asked.
“They wouldn’t have the same compulsion to serve as Metasapients would, having had it hard coded into their DNA,” I responded, without really understanding the intent behind Silverstein’s question.
Silverstein smiled weakly.
“I don’t like her. There’s something scary about her,” Taylor said, looking over her shoulder at Abbey.
“What do you mean?” Silverstein inquired.
“She’s not a law enforcement model Metasapient. She’s a Type One like me,” I reported calmly.
“A soldier? I didn’t think they made Type One Canine Metasapients,” Taylor replied.
“She’s the only one I’ve ever seen,” I said, mirroring Taylor’s concern.
“What’s the big deal? She’s a soldier like you, right?” Silverstein asked.
I stopped to consider my next words carefully.
“She’s not supposed to exist. I can only think of a couple of reasons for her being here. She was a one-time test to see if a stable Type One Canine could be created and trained...”
“Or?” Taylor asked.
“She can hear us,” I said, using my peripheral vision to gauge her body language.
Abbey looked visibly upset and self-conscious, somewhat dispelling my suspicion that she had been manufactured by Dr. Madmar and planted in the area to watch over his operation. I didn’t have the degree of hearing she did, but I could see her almost tearfully trying to explain something to Eamon before he came back over to us.
Eamon nodded. She was probably telling him what I’d already figured out, that she wasn’t what she seemed to be. Eamon didn’t care and patted her on the shoulder reassuringly. I felt terrible for even bringing the matter to anyone’s attention.
“Hi, I’m Abbey,” she said, shaking Silverstein’s hand, then Taylor’s, and then mine.
The palm of her hand felt leathery and tough across my palm and soft across the back as my fingers circled around her hand. She had a gentle, almost ingratiating handshake.
“Silverstein.”
“I’m Taylor,” Taylor said, employing her warmest smile.
I introduced myself, but couldn’t meet her gaze.
“When I first moved here, I was assigned to guard a man who worked on an important project for the CGG. After he died, I felt pretty lost until Eamon convinced me to join Nordic Enforcement,” Abbey explained.
“MDC Project?” I inquired.
“Yes,” Abbey said, avoiding my gaze.
“You’re old like me then,” I surmised.
Abbey clenched her teeth and nodded.
“I’m pretty old, almost twenty-two,” Eamon interjected trying to lighten the mood.
Silverstein looked as though he were going to say something but I shushed him with a glance and a slight shake of the head. Taylor caught it too and just nodded to Eamon and smiled. Abbey turned her gaze to the rapidly dispersing crowd and cleared her throat before wandering off to join them.
“Looks like people are heading back to the hospital for the night. Meet you guys there?” Eamon asked.
“Yeah, we’ll be there in a bit,” Silverstein said with an easy smile.
We started back after they’d gone ahead a ways and it was just Silverstein, Taylor, and I walking together somewhere behind the pack.
“Think she can hear us?” Taylor asked.
“Yeah, she’s an unmitigated Metasapient. She can probably hear a flea scream as it falls off a dog’s back a mile away,” I replied.
“I’m an amnesiac, remember? I don’t know what any of this means,” Silverstein said half-joking.
“The original MDC Project was started almost ninety years ago. It produced a handful of Metasapients and Drones based on the original genetic tailoring and designs. They were quickly feared for their abilities and the project was almost shut down for being too successful,” I explained.
“What happened? Taylor asked, walking a little slower.
“Remember the guy claiming to be Dr. Helmet? What if he wasn’t dead, and that really was him? What if Madmar lied and Matthias was wrong?” I posited.
“It sounds like I cloned myself. What if Madmar and Helmet have done the same thing?” Silverstein replied.
“You’re almost ninety. Why is she so worried about Eamon or the others knowing how old you guys are?” Ta
ylor replied.
“Unless they’re psychic, Drones and Metasapients don’t live much past fifty, let alone retain their physical prowess beyond that age. We’re not certain how old the original unmitigated Drones and Metasapients can get, and we don’t like to advertise that we even exist,” I replied, trying not to be curt.
“Wow, good to know in the future for avoiding awkward conversations with you and Abbey,” Silverstein replied, obviously unsatisfied with my answer.
“The original Type One Drones were supposed to be protectors, to keep humanity safe, or to persist in the aftermath if the human race couldn’t survive some calamity. This assumes the man calling himself Dr. Helmet was the real deal. I only just barely remember my training when I went through manufacturing,” I replied, wringing my hands anxiously.
“How does meeting Abbey change or affirm any of that?” Silverstein questioned.
“She stayed when so many others humans and Metasapients fled to save themselves. The moment I saw her, I knew she was different. She’s got the stink of death on her, but also a profound sadness. She’s had to kill a human or two recently, but I’ll bet it was because she was between them and someone helpless that needed to be defended,” I replied with certitude.
“How can you know all that by just seeing and talking to her for a few minutes?” Taylor said with a slight giggle.
“It’s in everything she does; her body language, tone of voice, the way she regards humans with some sort of respect. These days, I feel nothing but a healthy disdain for them,” I replied, somewhat ashamed.
“What are you talking about?” Silverstein said, almost demanding.
“Those guys back there that had Dr. Harjanne’s family hostage. I shot them without hesitation or remorse. That doesn’t seem right,” I said, trying to sort out how I was really feeling.
“Sounds like you’re feeling pretty bad about it now. Between them being assholes and Eamon going berserk, it’s not like you had a choice,” Silverstein observed.
He was right of course. I did feel pretty bad about it.
“What about the alien invasion the Drones were tailored to help repel? You think any of that was real?” Taylor asked.
“Gods, I don’t know,” I said picking up the pace a little.
We walked in the snow for an hour, behind the shuffle of the rest of the group. I was relieved to see the hospital rise in the distance, even if the whole structure was almost entirely dark. I was looking forward to being able to sleep and share the night watch with others in shifts. I was really beginning to feel my age.
When we got inside, they moved a couple of heavy curtains in front of the door to help deter the cold. I found an old army jacket that someone had discarded behind the chairs in the waiting room and curled up on it, my rifle tucked in at my side. I must have slept all night because no one woke me for a shift to watch the door.
I rubbed my eyes and looked out into the waiting area. Abbey was standing in the foyer looking out the large windows into the snowy streets outside. Defused morning light filtered in giving the interior of the hospital some dim illumination to accompany the flickering emergency lighting. The law dog’s ears twitched slightly before going calm again at intervals, detecting sound both faint and distant.
I rolled out of my nest and wandered over to where Abbey stood. She didn’t break her vigil, continuing to look out into the streets. I turned and looked in the same direction she was and saw a bit of smoke rising in the distance, just beyond the skyline.
“Why didn’t you wake me for a shift, I’d have watched for a few...”
“There was no point, I couldn’t sleep,” she whispered.
“Sorry about yesterday. I haven’t even really told my friends about what precious little I remember about the MDC Project,” I offered, still feeling a little embarrassed over the whole thing.
“All night, I’ve been hearing gunfire and screams. Other than the few peaceful folks we’ve been able to gather together here, the city and the outlying areas are tearing itself apart. People are hungry, cold, and desperate as a consequence. They had been wandering away from the core part of the city, but the unrest seems to be drawing closer,” Abbey said quietly, her cold blue eyes still fixated on the street outside.
“Gunfire?”
“Mostly small arms, but it sounds like there may be rogue military units and reserves operating out there for their own benefit. I have heard larger guns being employed,” she said, unconsciously checking her own gear with a free hand.
“This open hospital door is like a metaphor for your whole life, isn’t it?” I said, knowing something of how she felt.
“Indeed. The innocent people behind me are counting on me to keep them safe, and the desperate folks in front of me are already victims of their own humanity,” Abbey said.
“Victims?” I asked, not understanding.
“They wouldn’t have created me if they trusted themselves to keep each other safe. Humans needed a third party to act in their best interests. It’s simply their nature to kill, rape, and destroy one another,” Abbey stated plainly.
“I’m somewhat relieved to hear you say that,” I replied, after a moment of thought.
“Thought you were the only tailored life form that had become jaded after decades of watching humanity do everything it could to devour itself?”
“Truly.”
Abbey smiled slightly, then immediately resumed her vigil.
“Probably better go find Eamon and your friends,” Abbey whispered, pulling her shotgun tighter to her shoulder. “It sounds like someone has managed to get an old armored personnel carrier operational.”
“You sure it’s going to be a problem?”
“They are headed this way, using the armored vehicle to kill people and loot more lightly fortified buildings for what they need. It’s only logical to assume they’ll come to the hospital eventually,” Abbey replied.
I grabbed Abbey by the arm and turned her to face me. She looked down at me, visibly annoyed by me disturbing her concentration.
“Why are we waiting for them to come here? We should just go to them and put a stop to it before they ever get here,” I suggested politely.
“They’ve got military grade weaponry and an armored transport, we should try to fight them from a fortified position, if it comes to that,” she replied, jerking her arm from my grasp.
“You aren’t thinking like a soldier,” I said turning to go find Eamon.
I walked down the hallway into a longer hallway. Eamon sat at the far side. He was sleeping peacefully, propped up against a wall, his arm draped over an arm chair where Taylor was also fast asleep. Silverstein was sitting on the floor on the other side of the chair, his eyes scanning the screen on his mobile. Seeing me, he stood quietly as not to wake the others.
“Uh oh, you’ve got that look on your face,” he said pocketing his mobile.
“Abbey can hear an armored transport off in the distance. It’s carrying what are likely rogue soldiers who are looting and killing their way through the city. She thinks they’ll eventually come here and try to get medical supplies,” I reported.
“The vehicle has the guns or the horsepower to crack open buildings?” Silverstein inquired.
“Sounds like it, or they’ve got a Mechanic with them,” I whispered.
“We’ve got to go find them. Try to stop them before they even get here,” Silverstein said looking back at Taylor and Eamon.
“This is why we are friends,” I replied.
“Huh, oh really?” Silverstein whispered with a smile.
“Abbey thinks we should try to mount a defense here.”
“There are too many innocent people, healthy and sick in here. It’s too risky,” Silverstein said, shaking his head.
We both knew that Abbey could
probably hear us talking if she wanted to, but I didn’t care. In my opinion she was being foolish and a little bit cowardly, something I had hardly expected from her. We needed to stop the armored transport somehow before it even got there, and with Eamon, Taylor, Silverstein, and I working together it might just be possible.
After waking Eamon and Taylor, I explained to them the situation and put forward a plan of action. After everyone was clear on what to do, we gathered up what we thought we’d need and prepared to headed out. We walked to the entrance of the hospital where Abbey continued her watch of the street outside.
“You sure you won’t come with us?” I asked.
“Someone should stay here. I’m sure these aren’t the only looters and desperate folks out there,” Silverstein offered, trying to broker a compromise.
“He’s right, Ezra. Someone needs to hold the fort while we’re gone,” Taylor said.
I hesitantly agreed. I could tell this wasn’t about having an ego or being right for Abbey. It was about doing what she felt was right regardless. Even if I didn’t agree with her, I could respect her decision. That being said, it would have been really nice to have her with us for what happened next.
The four of us crept down alleys and through drainage canals until we could hear the sound of a huge engine propelling a tracked vehicle across the pavement nearby. Silverstein took out the expensive watch the doctor had loaned us and put on the nicest coat we could find. Taylor did much the same thing by putting on the richest clothes we’d been able to scrounge, and willing her hair to assume an appearance, I’m told, looked “fresh from the salon.” I didn’t like it.
We made our way the last few blocks until we came upon the large military transport. It had two anti-personnel turrets and sported an armored frame that was suspended several feet above the pavement, it’s tracked wheel base like that of an army tank, but broader. I’d never seen one before, but they were supposed to be resistant to mines and attempts to hack their systems from the ground.
Uroboros Saga Book 2 Page 6