by Chris Hechtl
Jack exhaled like a popped balloon. “Damn it,” he snarled, over and over under his breath. His fists clenched and unclenched.
“I'll, um, get on that. Now,” the chimp said as he retreated.
Jack sat back and closed his eyes. “Yeah, you do that,” he sighed.
<>V<>
One down, or at least on board, Jack thought the following day as he got himself ready for the next meeting. He was going to have to watch the good doctor rather carefully and thoroughly. He'd probably need a couple independent consultants brought on board to translate tech speak to something he could understand just to keep the doctor from burying him in bullshit.
He snorted. He'd had to do it before, he'd do it again if necessary. He wished everyone could get together on this. It sucked having to explain, argue with them about it all.
He rubbed his temple. Not even 9 a.m. and he was already getting the start of a headache. Not a good sign and definitely not one for a man of his advanced years.
But he did have to argue with someone, several someones as it turned out. As distasteful as it was, he had to recruit, and he had to recruit fast. Recruit from many sources of people but some very important ones in particular.
“Thank you for meeting me. I know you all have duties and families to attend to,” Jack said, nodding to the group of leaders that had been assembled. It was quite a menagerie.
He went through his planned presentation. He could tell the apes were on board right off. That was good and to be expected. The others though, they were questionable. The otters he had his misgivings about.
“So you see, the robots ignore you. Most of you,” he said, looking at the dog species. “That has been confirmed. It won't last forever, but while it does we want to maximize the effectiveness and exploit the weakness in their vision as much as we can.”
“Big words,” a dog rumbled. Jack looked at the Saint Bernard. He wasn't certain if it was Cujo or Beethoven or one of the others of that subbreed.
“Sorry,” Jack said.
“Slower,” an elderly Great Dane said. Jack looked at him. He was tan with black spots and a white muzzle from his advanced age. He also didn't need a vocoder to speak.
“We need you to help fight,” Jack said carefully.
“We already are,” Astro said.
“Some went. Ace went. Donnie went. Gunner went. Duncan went,” a golden retriever said, eying him.
Jack nodded. “That's a start. But it is only a start. We need, they need more help,” he said, fighting to keep the urgency from turning into a full plea.
Jack noted that many had come to meet him, not to help. Some were only interested in getting information or voicing complaints. Patiently he argued with the Neo community leaders. They needed more volunteers, more help. The majority of the first wave of volunteers were from security and those without large families. It seemed the families, the clans, were holding their children back. They had skills to contribute. They were needed desperately.
“Not our problem,” a wolf growled. He looked at Jack then away.
Most of the wolves seemed indifferent Jack realized. That was just wrong, nearly half were changed humans or descendants of changed humans. They of all people should know better.
He knew most of the wolves had requested to immigrate to Mars's Polar Regions. Unfortunately, there were trees but no game in the area. It would be another decade before large game was set up, then more time until they were allowed to be hunted.
In the meantime the wolves brooded about, eating his food and bitching about hunting only in VR.
Jack had to patiently explain it was their problem. He didn't make much headway, however.
“Why, because it's the companies problem? What's good for the company and all that? You created us as your super soldiers?” The wolf snorted. “Cannon fodder? I think not. I'm not going to fight your battles for you.”
“No, I didn't create you. Your mother did as did your father and yes, Doctor Glass, my wife and people like her had a hand in there somewhere. But let me tell you this,” he said, jabbing a finger at the image of Earth. “The A.I. down there don't give a damn what you think. They don't care if you think you are neutral or not. All they care about is if you are organic or not. Organic means enemy, which means you and your kids are a target. So if you thought you'd just sit on your ass here you were wrong.”
He saw the wolf growl, ears back, teeth bared. His hackles rose. He snarled right back, eyes glittering. “You want a piece of me, pup?” he growled right back, locking eyes.
A bear's brassy roar stopped the wolf before he finished gathering to spring. He looked over Jack's shoulder to see the bear. The grizzly bear wasn't focused on Jack; he was focused on the wolf. He bared his teeth at the wolf, lip wrinkling in anger. Instinctively the wolf looked away and then around him for support. He saw a lot of grim snarls, all directed at him, the wolf. “He is our protector. Our benefactor. The mate of our creator. Attack him and I'll rip you to shreds,” the bear growled menacingly. He flexed his long claws meaningfully as if the threat of his teeth and roar weren't enough.
The wolf's eyes cut to a gorilla silverback who was pounding a massive fist into his other hand. Another dog growled at him, eyes glittering. The Neochimp cracked her knuckles and then looked expectantly to Jack. The cat's eyes were wide in fright. The Selkie looked confused. “Do what you want,” the wolf finally said, moving off. “You always do. Leave me and mine out of it. We will not be your cannon fodder.”
Jack nodded his thanks to the other Neos. A few returned the nod.
“It is a voluntary thing. I came here to ask you to ask your people to think about it. That's all, think about it. Let them make their own decisions,” Jack said. He turned to the other leaders. “All of you. You don't have to fight. But if you can help in other ways, like building the weapons others will need to use, perhaps your kin,” his eyes turned to the wolf. “I'm sure they'd appreciate it.”
“For the record though,” Jack eyed the wolf, “the volunteers aren't going to be cannon fodder. We're going to fight right alongside you. My son Zack will be there, as will others.”
“With a Neo,” Astro said. “Tied to his mind,” he said with some significance.
“What?” Jack asked frowning.
“You did not know?” Astro asked. Jack shook his head. “Oops, sorry. You find out then,” the gray Great Dane said as he looked away.”
Jack pursed his lips. Apparently he had more digging to do.
“Ace trained on the ground?” a chimp asked.
Jack nodded. “We're still using Mars as the primary training ground, yes. The Martians are still dealing with their health issues,” Jack said. That seemed to garner a lot of interest.
“Health?” the grizzly asked.
“Heard that,” an otter repeated, bobbing his head up and down until a selkie brushed him away with a flippered hand to get him to be quiet. The otter flipped into the water then came up and jumped back onto the ground. He shook himself spraying water everywhere then went to grooming.
“It's …, “Jack frowned. “Okay, they live on a planet that is small.” He used his hands to demonstrate a small object. “It has lower gravity than here or Earth. Their bodies adjusted to that. Going to somewhere bigger makes them heavier. Their bodies can't adjust,” he said. “Not quickly.”
“Oh,” the bear said. He scratched at his head with his long claws as he parsed the concepts out. “If you say so.”
Jack fought to keep his frown of dismay from showing. It appeared Doctor Glass had a bit of a ways to go with cognitive function in some of the species. Perhaps some of his distractions weren't bad.
“Strange. Smaller here but …” Astro shook his head, obviously wrestling with the concepts and failing.
Jack noticed the wolves were listening from the way their ears were oriented to him. He snorted. “Here is different. Here we can make things heavier or lighter. We can't on a planet.”
Astro blinked. “Oh. You say
so,” he growled gruffly, looking away.
“Interested in ground,” a sow bear said.
“But not Earth?” another bear asked. She shook her head. “Thought so.”
Jack grunted. The bear had a cub. There was no way she would be willing to go into combat, and he was loath to send her. She was more interested in going to the ground on Mars to what? Get away from being in space? He wasn't sure.
“Mars doesn't have the plants and animals yet to support many people,” Jack cautioned.
“And we can't be in the wild. We will lose ourselves to it,” a chimp female said. Jack looked at her and then nodded slowly. She was in a fetching red and white polka dot dress. “You know the dangers of going primal.”
“Hard here. What is the word … fff …?”
“Frustrating, yes I know,” the chimp said shaking her head. “But we all put up with it. If you want to take out your frustrations, you can learn new jobs, work elsewhere, or fight,” she said, indicating Jack.
“Hard to learn. Head hurts,” an otter said. “Play,” he said, doing a flip. “Play fun. Work boring.”
“Yeah,” the chimp said, eying Jack. “Obviously some of us are more ready than others,” she said. Jack nodded. When he raised an eyebrow, her eyes went wide. “Who me? I'm an engineer thank you. But no thank you. I like space just fine.”
“Okay,” Jack replied with a chuckle. “But, FYI, we also need a crew for the Liberty ships including engineers,” he said cocking his head in a slight bow to the chimp. His HUD identified her as Miranda Belushi.
She made a puttering sound then nodded slowly. “I'll … consider it,” she said carefully, aware that all eyes are on her.
“So, not everyone needs to go down to fight?” an orangutan asked. Jack shook his head. “Nice to know now,” he growled gruffly.
“There are a lot of jobs to be done. People will be needed since we can't trust the machines. People to build the tools and weapons like we are doing now,” Jack indicated a couple of the workers in the room. “Plus man the ships, train others, and yes, fight.”
“We think about it,” Astro said rising to his feet.
“Thank you,” Jack said, recognizing he needed to take a break and leave them alone. He didn't want to push things too far. “I hope we all have a happy new year,” he said as he left. That got a few of the Neos making small talk.
<>V<>
The following morning Jack read the report. It had a glimmer of hope to it. During the evening some more Neos had stepped up, at first in dribs and drabs, obviously reluctant. A few were bored; a few had been pressured to join by parents tired of them not picking a career. That was amusing.
Many of the security Neos had already volunteered, as had many of their human counterparts. They were already the nucleus of the force, but he found that even more had signed up. Roman was going to have his hands full manning all the posts that were becoming vacant.
Well, technically a lot of them were busy work. A warm body somewhere within response time of a potential dangerous situation. Some had been nodule forces and from the dynamics entire teams had signed up in unison. That was good.
The rest … the rest were a mixed bag. Not many had any sort of training at all. Some of those who had signed up most recently were obviously out to prove themselves, others to avenge their lost creator and maker. Some out of social pressure, and others just because they wanted to rip and tear stuff apart.
The current plan was to keep the bears, cats, wolves, dogs, otters, and other secret species back. At least until they had more numbers. He regretted sending Baloo McGillicuty and others to Earth. Once they received training, the fresh group would go on to do additional training with the latest intelligence or fill in for Roman's diminished security forces or train the next wave once Doctor Glass got his act together.
That left the humans and primates to carry the load. All of them were earmarked for Earth duty, though there were a few like Miss Belushi who had signed on as a ship engineer. He nodded. The rest would do.
But they had to survive getting to the ground first.
He shook his head. That was something else to look into. There had to be a way to build a better landing platform. Either that or they were going to have to take a different area then move in on the ground. In fact, that might be the better option, he thought, frowning as he tugged on an earlobe. Slowly he nodded. What was the guy? Fiben and Harper? He nodded as he pulled up their file. They would do for South America.
If they broke it down by continent …, he frowned then sighed. He pushed the file away. It wasn't his call to make; he had to respect Isaac, Roman, and the others. He didn't envy them that.
“Now, my son, what the devil have you been up to?” he asked out loud, pulling up Zack's file. He clicked the classified link, then scowled as he had to get past the interrogation bot. But when he did get into the file there was nothing there, just a couple lines about security enhancements. That meant Roman had been rather paranoid and kept it off the main servers. He'd have to inquire directly.
He rubbed his temple. “The problem is, I don't know where my son is to ask,” he said.
<>V<>
When Oswald found out little Ollie had signed on to the military, he wasn't happy. He lashed his tail. “What is that little devil getting into trouble about? This is a human problem!” he said, pacing, ears flat, eyes vexed.
“He's a Snarf. He can make his decisions,” Eggbert reminded him.
“He's... he's barely a kit!” Oswald growled, stopping to stare at the wall. Ollie preferred to be called Snarfer due to the Snarf tag they all had. A stupid human had tagged them with the name after they'd come over from Gentek with colds and snuffled for weeks.
“He's joining something called the Thundercat initiative. We are too,” Eggbert said, pointing to his own chest.
That stopped Oswald dead. He stared at Eggbert, then Osbert. Finding out his nephew was going off to war was one thing. Finding out his two cousins and best friends were going as well stopped him dead. “Has everyone lost their minds? Meh!” he complained.
“It seems that way or everyone is sane and you are the one hiding from sanity,” Eggbert said, packing his gear.
Oswald growled slightly. He didn't like being left out. He didn't like the idea of being on the habitat alone, without friends. He may not treat them kindly, but they were his friends. Snarfer was his only family left now that his brother Morris had died. His tail thrashed in annoyance and disgust, then fresh feelings came through to his mind—fear. Fear of the unknown but fear of being left out as well.
He refused to admit he still blamed the humans for not being able to save his brother. Morris should have lived; they were from the same litter! But somewhere along the line he'd contracted feline leukemia and it had been left untreated until too late. He shook his head, trying to dislodge the thought train, but one last thought stuck and refused to yield or go away. Morris would have joined, it whispered over and over.
“Fine. You are all insane.”
“You don't have to join, Oswald,” Eggbert said. “They've fixed us up. We're good to go. Someone has to teach the new kits how to survive.”
“Like you know how. The most you know is how to work a remote,” Oswald taunted.
“I'll learn,” Eggbert said, finishing his gear. He didn't have a lot to pack, just a small series of pouches that he then attached to a waist belt. “I'm looking forward to the adventure. Seeing the ground …,” he wiggle waggled his whiskers, eyes alight.
“Earth is poisoned,” Oswald reminded him, sounding almost desperate. “No food.”
“They are giving us stuff to keep us healthy. We'll be checked all the time. And we're cats,” Eggbert said, licking a shoulder in disdain. “We can survive on anything.”
“Eggbert,” Oswald's tone rose in anger and dismay then he seemed to fold in on himself. “Fine,” he growled.
“See you,” Eggbert said, hand up in disappointment as he headed for the door.
“Not if I see you first,” Oswald replied gruffly, pulling a belly pouch out, then another belt. He started to throw stuff out that he wanted to bring.
“What are you …?”
“I'm going too. No way I'm leaving you three in charge of saving my furry butt! I may be old, but I can keep up with the best of you.”
“You don't have to,” Eggbert said eying him.
“I'm a survivor. I'm good at spying,” Oswald said as he finished packing. “I may not be good at fighting but breaking things sounds fun. Especially if we get paid to do it,” he said. Eggbert snorted. “Besides, I can at least get you started, show them the ropes I suppose.”
Act II
Chapter 28
July 28, 2201
Skynet learned that broadcast transmissions to space were futile; they were blocked. Jammer satellites were in place around the planet, preventing radio transmissions from leaking out. Laser links were ignored. If a signal did get through, such as when it spoofed a signal Athena had made, it couldn't get past the firewall. The encryption keys had been changed already.
The onetime Skynet did get through the initial firewall, the offworld A.I. immediately detected the intrusion, cut it off from the rest of the network, and then destroyed the link.
However Skynet was programmed to be relentless in its mission. Therefore it attempted physical access. The viral A.I. used a ground control station meant to work with a series of weather satellites to bounce its laser signal into one of the lunar habitats as well as a pair of freelance freighters. The stripped-down clone didn't attempt to replicate itself or cause havoc as it moved around, only to scout and lay the seeds for a full cyber attack.
However, the A.I. found that there was not enough computer support to house the entire virus core wherever it went. Therefore it sent a spider ahead of it. The communications system of FNG125 wasn't designed to house more than a gigabyte of data. However, Bridget's father had promised her he'd download some music for her for her birthday. He'd hooked her tablet up to the communication computer but forgot to disconnect it before going to bed.