The Suns of Liberty (Book 3): Republic

by Michael Ivan Lowell

  It all spoke of one thing.

  “Secret research facility,” Arbor said to Ray, nodding at the building as they disembarked the big Chinook. The desert’s hot afternoon breeze whipped around them.

  “Yep,” Ray said back as if he didn’t care what it was one way or another. Arbor began to wonder if he’d pissed the little guy off somehow. Ray walked on ahead of him without saying another word.

  Whatever, asshole.

  Arbor had seen too many facilities like this to be fooled. All the secrecy was wasted on him. Von Cyprus was going to take them into this place and run some kind of sick and twisted experiment on the Doctor. Or he was going to bore them with his next geek-boy research project. Either way, the show would happen on the bottom floor, if not in an underground lab. That’s the way these things always worked.

  When they got to the underground lab, Arbor was surprised by the level of security. Armed Council Guard were everywhere, roaming the halls, in every room, at every doorway. They must have passed two hundred just on their way to the basement—which turned out to be dark, dank, and dimly lit. A spacious winding passageway made of solid rock traced a long path they all traversed, Von Cyprus in the lead.

  Finally, they stopped outside a giant titanium door that would have taken a tank assault to break down. When he examined it closer he realized it was made of the same material as his own Lithium armor. Above the door was a sign in red letters announcing the lab inside as the:

  ARIZONA TECH RESEARCH LAB 1.

  This was the infamous secret research base jointly run by DARPA and Arizona Tech University. A host of secret weapons had been birthed here. Weapons that only spooks and high-level professional tough guys like himself knew about.

  Von Cyprus strode ahead and planted himself in front of the enormous doorway. He swiveled around to address them. Doctor Rage, now awake and clearly pissed, still decked out in his prisoner-block orange, had made the trek with them. Von Cyprus kept a close eye on him the entire time he spoke, Arbor noticed—and he couldn’t help but do the same.

  “You’ve wondered why I pulled Professor Apocalypse out of captivity, yes?” he asked rhetorically in Arbor’s direction. “What is so important that it would be worth unleashing Kiernan Rage in order to control it?”

  All these questions were really starting to piss Arbor off. This asshole had been teasing him all day with this shit! This dog-and-pony show really needed to get to the shiny blue ribbon already.

  Von Cyprus turned, and the monster door opened.

  The first thing Arbor noticed was the sound. The room was loud. Welding, hammering, metal clanging on metal. The second thing was the army of technicians working feverishly to make all those sounds. Then he saw the two dozen spidery robot drones scurrying after them, all working on a single project. Spread across the large lab as it was, it took him a moment to realize that there was a pattern to it all. Each piece laid out where it would eventually go, but separated so the technicians could work on them independently. A giant high-tech jigsaw puzzle that was almost ready to connect.

  When Arbor’s eyes finally put it all together, when he finally recognized the pattern for what it was, he felt the blood drain from his face.

  “Oh. My. God.”

  CHAPTER 18

  THE WHITE HOUSE - OVAL OFFICE

  The vice president seized the polished brass knob and opened the door. Sitting at the Resolute Desk was the President of the United States, Robert Mitchell, who was clearly awaiting her arrival. “Come in, Elizabeth, sit down,” the president said, rising.

  Elizabeth Lee, former Senator from California and his newly appointed second-in-command as of two years ago, strolled forward, shook his hand, and did just that, taking a seat directly across from him. “Thank you for seeing me, sir.”

  “Please, it’s just you and me, let’s dispense with the formalities.”

  The vice president eyed his desk. “Don’t worry, we’re not being recorded,” he told her.

  “Thank you for seeing me then, Mr. President.”

  Mitchell smiled at her continued formalism. “I called you here, remember?”

  “Yes, sir, and I want you to look at these headlines.” She stood, pulled up three of them from her phone. They floated, holograph style, in front of his nose. She took her seat again. “You see how low the Council has fallen in these recent polls? You know why Media Corp is actually publishing this? Because Sage and Howke are no longer in charge. Because they’re pissed at Tarleton. There’s an opening to make a move.”

  Mitchell chuckled and raised his eyebrows. “Speaking of openings, mind if I talk now?” He made a motion with his hand that lowered the holographs onto the surface of his desk and shot her a smirk.

  “Of course. Sorry, Bob,” she said somewhat sheepishly. This was the President of the United States. No matter how cowardly or calculating she thought he was, he was still owed his due respect.

  “No, don’t apologize. I brought you on to be an attack dog.”

  She wasn’t sure if she should feel complimented or insulted, but in politics being called an attack dog was usually a good thing, so she decided to consider it an accolade.

  Mitchell leaned back in his chair and looked down his nose at her. “How many times in the last two years have you urged me to make a statement on the Council?”

  “Against the Council,” she said quickly.

  “Yeah, against it. See, there it is, feistiness.”

  “Many times. I’ve urged you to speak against them many times. We can’t govern according to the past. We need a rebirth.”

  The president grinned. “And what have I told you each time you’ve asked me?”

  “You’ve told me no, that the timing wasn’t right.”

  “Well, the time...” Mitchell let his words trail off and let his number-two anticipate his next phrase. “Is still not right.” He flashed an impish grin.

  The vice president huffed, and her cheeks reddened. Her short black hair bounced against her thin face, and she leaned forward in her chair. He knew he’d pissed her off.

  “Not right for me anyway,” he added quickly. “But I think it might just be the perfect timing for you.”

  She studied him skeptically. “Sir, I may not agree with your stand on the Freedom Council, but I’m not going to go against you in public. If you want me to resign, just say so and I’ll do it.”

  “No, Elizabeth. You misunderstand,” he said, rising from his chair. “The times are changing, I can feel it. You can feel it.” He pointed to the holographs she had brought. “Hell, even Media Corp can feel it! All I ever tried to do was to hold us together. To be the president we needed in a moment of deep crisis. That moment is over. A new crisis is upon us, and we need...how did you put it? A rebirth. Someone who can look ahead, not live in the past.” He sighed and leaned against the desk. “But if I come out against them...” Mitchell let the thought trail off but shook his head to indicate the gravity of it “Tarleton will shut us down. He’s no Thomas Sage. The man cares nothing about this town.”

  “Neither did Sage.”

  “More than Tarleton does. But Bannister’s a smart man. He’ll understand that this is a message from me to him.” Mitchell composed himself, adjusting his tie, and strolled back to his seat behind the desk. “These Orbs they’re using in Boston, they’ve got the potential to change the game. People see that. What I want you to do is to come out in favor of them. Say we’re working on a similar policy. Say the Council is working on a similar policy.”

  “Are they working on a similar policy?” she asked.

  “Of course not.”

  “So, you want to force his hand?”

  “Sure, that’d be great, but more practically, I want him to know that we think he’s on the wrong path and we’re no longer willing to stay quiet. That’s all we can really do. He has all the power. We’ve got what’s left of the bully pulpit, nothing more. All we can do is shame him.”

  “You could do this more effectively than m
e.”

  “No, Liz. We need a leader for tomorrow. I’m done. I was done six years ago. It’s your time. The people trust you, it’s in all the polls. In an honest election I couldn’t win dog catcher.”

  ARIZONA TECH RESEARCH LAB 1

  UNDISCLOSED LOCATION – ARIZONA DESERT

  Clay Arbor could barely contain himself.

  He knew exactly what this project was, and it provoked a full-scale nuclear explosion inside the big man’s head.

  He grabbed Von Cyprus by the lab coat and shoved him across the room into a small cubby filled with medical cabinets of various sizes. His face contorted in anger. He slammed the shocked scientist up against the tallest cabinet, and he heard glass and metal rattle inside it. Von Cyprus grunted, a gush of air escaping his lungs. “Have you lost your fucking mind?” Arbor screamed at him—and became immediately aware of the dozen Council Guards who rapidly surrounded him, high-powered handguns pointed at his head.

  As for the scientist himself, he seemed unnervingly calm. After the initial surprise his face fell flat, his eyes still firmly planted, staring past Arbor.

  Fixed on the Doctor.

  That broke the spell a bit for Arbor. This was not the place they wanted to let Doctor Rage run loose. Everything attached to a computer could become his weapon. Every weapon could become his bomb. He’d seen it. He could cause a weapon to overheat, jam, explode—a thousand different options all at his mental command.

  Arbor took his hands off of the scientist, whose thin lips morphed into a smug grin.

  Von Cyprus waved the Guards back casually. “I can assure you, Colonel, my sanity has never been more acute.”

  Why the fuck was he so calm? Arbor had seen veteran soldiers and professional bad-asses piss themselves when he had a hold of them. He was Lithium, after all! Even if he didn’t have his armor at the moment, he could still break this skinny egghead’s spine with his bare hands!

  He tried his best to seem nonplussed. “Bad enough that you’ve brought Dr. Doom along, but rebuilding that goddamn thing is the worst fucking idea I’ve ever heard! And I served in Africa, asshole! I’ve heard some bad ones!”

  All across the lab, the pattern of the project was clear to him: the various body parts of a large silver attack robot were being assembled. Above them, scrolling over multiple monitors, was a series of technical commands and codes. The technicians and scientists in the room seemed to be following them precisely. Looking up, reading the line of code, performing a task, and then double-checking their work. The scuffle between the two men had barely caused them to pause in their tasks. Shit, maybe they’re robots, too! Arbor mused to himself.

  Their goal was appallingly obvious to him. He’d recognized the robot immediately by its one unmistakable feature.

  It was the distinctive horned head...

  Of the Aztech.

  The most complex, deadliest machine ever created. So complex it had never been able to be controlled. So deadly it had nearly started World War III all on its own.

  Robot overlord, Matrix, Terminator, or whatever you wanted to call it, the Aztech was the closest thing to causing a real Roboapocalypse the world had ever seen. This wasn’t the ghost in the machine, this was the devil. And this idiot was about to willingly give the whole fucking thing a reboot.

  Von Cyprus straightened his jacket and shook out the stiffness in his now bruised neck. “What you’re seeing up there,” he said to Arbor, pointing up at the screens, “is the Aztech Virus spelled out, decoded.”

  “And you think that’s a good idea? Call me cat-fuck crazy, but ain’t you lab freaks been spending the last ten years trying everything you could to keep that virus from running?”

  Von Cyprus shook his head. “The chairman and I had a vision. A world purged of impurities by using the most powerful tools on the planet.”

  Arbor shook his head in disgust.

  Von Cyprus smirked. “He and I understand something that you apparently do not. The truth is, even after all your battles, you have a soft spot for the Revolution and his little cause, don’t you? You see honor in it, or some such thing.” Von Cyprus snickered at him. “Honor is the noose by which true power is killed.”

  Arbor’s rage boiled. What did he know about power or danger? “Don’t lecture me, Eric. I could rip you apart with my bare hands! Call off your dogs”—Arbor motioned back to the armed guards—“and let’s see how you do.”

  Von Cyprus lifted one of his coat sleeves slightly. Just enough that Arbor got a good look at the antimatter electrosleeves beneath it.

  Well, shit.

  Arbor took a step back. That’s why he’s so calm. He could erase my ass at any moment.

  Von Cyprus ignored the threat and pulled his coat sleeve back down. “The Doctor is here to control the Aztech when we reawaken it. And I am here to control the Doctor. At least until the HIVE comes online,” Von Cyprus said with obvious pride. “With this much power behind us, the insurgency will be crushed like a ripe grape.”

  “You’ll never control that thing. I know. I was there! I’ve seen what it can do!”

  “Haven’t you been listening? What you see on those screens are thousands of individual viruses that we brought together. We always called it the Aztech Virus, but that was a misnomer. It was actually thousands of smaller individual viruses all seeking to find each other and combine. Then it was supposed to take control of an automated facility and rebuild the Aztech. A brilliant self-defense mechanism, except for one thing. How was it going to find the titanium-osmium alloy it needed to make it invulnerable again?”

  “I already know all this because I helped stop it the first time,” Arbor reminded him.

  “In ten years of trying,” Von Cyprus continued unabated, “it never got past step one. We did that. We found the viruses and brought them together. We provided the facility. We brought in the raw materials to make the titanium alloy. The same stuff, by the way, that the Revolution’s armor is made of.”

  Arbor couldn’t hide the jolt that went through him when he heard that.

  “I know,” Von Cyprus crowed, seeing the look on his face. “I bet you’d love to have a suit of armor to match his, wouldn’t you? Now you can. We know how to build it.”

  Arbor tried not to look excited by the prospect.

  “The Aztech is under our control now. And soon it will be locked into the HIVE, replacing its own programming with our prime directive: a hive-mind super-intelligence that will control all our drones, including the Aztech. The missing link James Scott never had when he built it.”

  A loud, thudding clang boomed and caught both their attention. They gaped as all four appendages, head, and torso were brought together as one. The Aztech, all fifteen feet of it, laid out across the lab floor. The drones quickly went to work sealing the pieces together. A strange process by which the titanium joints somehow melded together.

  “The drones were designed by the virus,” Von Cyprus said dreamily.

  Arbor followed him as Von Cyprus strolled over to the main computer console. Ray joined them.

  Arbor kept one eye on the Aztech, the other on Kiernan Rage. He couldn’t stop thinking that the two most dangerous enemies of the entire human race were now in the same room.

  CHAPTER 19

  THE DESERT - ARIZONA

  REMOTE OUTDOOR TRAINING FACILITY

  “What the hell are those things, Ray?” Arbor asked, now fully suited in the greens, browns, and gun-metal grays of his Lithium armor. Just a precaution, Von Cyprus had explained.

  Two more hours had passed. Arbor hadn’t known a Lithium suit had been along for the ride, but the Council often had extras hanging around for him. Had they had it onboard the Chinook all day and he not known it? He was sick of being kept in the dark. He also wasn’t sure if he felt more secure or less secure having it on given that “Doctor Remote Control” was running around.

  The thought brought back some bad memories that he immediately tried to suppress. Von Cyprus had damn well better hope he
really had that circus freak on the short chain he claimed.

  The desert wind scooted a tumbleweed past them all. The air was dry and parched. Arbor was already getting sick of the desert. Pterodactyl drones crisscrossed the sky above, and the sun was soon to set behind a far mountain range. Twilight approached. But none of them were looking at the sky. Not exactly, anyway.

  They were looking at what had just appeared in it.

  Von Cyprus scrunched his nose and peered up at the odd sight. All the occupants of the Chinook were now gathered around, gazing up, including the small team of Council Guard, the on-board physician, and the two pilots.

  No one seemed to know what they were looking at.

  A series of floating stop signs—red octagonal symbols—had appeared above their heads.

  Kendrick Ray smiled proudly. “These are all twelve layers of firewalls the Aztech has to keep Rage out of its head. As he breaks through and takes control, each one will turn green. Thought I’d keep it simple for the layman.” Ray was smirking at Arbor.

  “Asshole,” Arbor hissed under his breath. He’d saved the little shit’s life more than once, but Ray had clearly decided to hitch his wagon to Von Cyprus.

  “And then,” Von Cyprus added, “once our AI hubs are up and running, the Hive will build and form and, eventually, take over. But we can’t do that until the good Doctor here lowers the gate. Otherwise, the Hive would never get inside the Aztech’s CPU.”

  “You sinners are unworthy of my presence,” the Doctor’s low, gravelly voice announced profoundly. “Repent while you still can.” His head was bowed, but his eyes were burning with intensity.

  Arbor turned back toward Von Cyprus. “Great, does that mean we can take Dr. Apocalypse back after this is done then? ‘Cause it’s getting harder and harder not to put a bullet in his brain.” Arbor tapped the black Luger he had strapped to his utility vest.