by J P Whitney
“I’m guessing a convoy that large and coming from the south would have to be from ED3N. Maybe they sent a welcoming committee for survivors,” Tucker speculated.
∆∆∆
When the lead vehicle came to a stop ten yards away, several others fanned out to flank the Olsen’s. Headlights pinned them to the small area of blacktop in front of their car. Dozens of soldiers jumped from the vehicles with weapons at the ready.
One soldier with Sergeant stipes strode forward confidently and asked, “Who are you and where are you headed?”
Tucker replied, “We’re Tucker and Bryce Olsen. We just left the Portland area and are headed to San Diego.”
“We’re responding to a message sent by a person named Ruth that said survivors should make their way to ED3N,” Bryce added.
“What an ironic coincidence,” the soldier said, “we’re coming from that very place.”
“To escort us?” Bryce asked innocently.
The man chuckled to himself, “No son, that would be counterproductive to our mission.”
“Which is …” Tucker said to prod the man along.
“We’re headed to the historic Presidio National Park in San Francisco near the Golden Gate Bridge,” the soldier said with a theatrical flair. “Ever been there? It’s a two square mile park with barracks, hotel, defensive batteries, two old hospitals, a golf course, apartments, and desalination facility. We’re establishing a new central California base of operations there.”
“A new base of operations? Just last night we were told survivors were being welcomed into ED3N. I’d think that kind of onboarding would require a lot of resources,” Tucker stated clearly not following the seemingly contradictory strategies.
“There are still plenty of resources within ED3N, but I wouldn’t recommend going there.”
“Why not,” Bryce asked wondering what threat or conflict could have possibly resulted in the ousting of an army this large.
“That would be better answered by Captain Kendall who should be rendezvousing with us by the end of the day. I highly recommend you join us for lunch and take a look around the Presidio while waiting to speak with him this evening.”
Tucker read the man’s body language and thought the statement came across more like an order than an invitation for lunch. But until they could ascertain what was going on in ED3N he figured it was better to comply with the soldier’s request.
To test the water he said, “Maybe we should just continue on our journey.”
But the Sergeant was having none of it and quickly stated ‘I insist and would be honored to have you as our guests’. He didn’t see an option save for trying to outrun bullets, which was no option at all. So Tucker pulled behind the lead vehicle as the convoy set into motion once more.
Bryce muttered under his breath, “I have a bad feeling about this.”
Tucker turned to find a concerned look on his brother’s face and when their eyes met he couldn’t help but agree, “I was just thinking the same thing.”
∆∆∆
The Olsen family had never spent much time in San Francisco so they were surprised to find the Presidio in such a low-density development area. It had obviously been a military fortress at some point, but the entire neighborhood was quite spread out with a number of strategically placed campuses set apart from each other by enormous green spaces. Even more surprising was when the convoy stopped in front of the Lucasfilm headquarters which took up the majority of the 900,000 square foot Letterman Digital Arts Center (LDAC) within the Presidio district. This high tech campus was also home to Industrial Light & Magic and from the outside, it looked like a series of nondescript yet modern red brick, four-story buildings. But conventional architecture transformed into extraordinary once they arrived at the entrance of the underground parking garage. The exterior was cleverly disguised to look like a concrete fighter ship hangar from one of the Star Wars rebel bases. Their headlights illuminated the ramp that led into a cavernous subterranean structure capable of handling thousands of cars.
The convoy filled the structure and the forces quickly deployed to make sure the building was clear. Once the area was secured, squads were sent to fire up the generators and get the water treatment plant running again. Patrols canvased the entire perimeter of the Presidio district and set up security checkpoints at major intersections. The entire operation went off like clockwork while the Olsen’s ate lunch and toured the LDAC campus with the sergeant. When all the patrols had radioed in the ‘all’s clear’, he told the family they were free to explore while waiting for the captain to return, but it was highly recommended they stay within the Presidio for their own safety.
The Olsen’s spent a leisurely three hours hiking some of the 24 miles of trails that meandered through the old military installations, golf course, parks, and scenic overlooks of the Presidio. Acting like tourists was nice for a change but felt odd and disconcerting under the circumstances. Not since before the outbreak did they have so much time not being consumed by matters of survival. The family had spent every waking moment of the last six months protecting themselves against infection, securing their property, worrying if their crops would generate enough food, rationing power, fighting and ultimately running for their lives.
Their family of four had been painfully whittled down to just the two of them. And even the guest that had found sanctuary on their small piece of land, and helped them escape the hostage situation on the coast, had abandoned them on his solitary quest to find the mysterious Ruth. It seemed like all these situations had conspired against the boys and left them isolated and alone.
Then, unexpectedly, when things seemed at their direst … their path crossed that of the security team during its mass exodus from ED3N.
Ironic that it was a heavily armed, militaristic group that finally brought them some semblance of peace. After eating the first meal which hadn’t been grown and harvested with their own hands, they found themselves wandering the expansive grounds of the Presidio as though sightseeing. And while they still carried weapons, the boys were as close to relaxed as they could remember.
The tranquil lagoon in front of the Palace of Fine Arts was a portal back to the peak of the Greek and Roman empires as it reflected a perfectly inverted image of the 1000-foot-wide pergola complete with columns and a domed rotunda. The air was scented with the Australian eucalyptus trees that fringed the eastern shore of the lagoon and in the dead silence, it was easy to imagine Socrates or Aristotle expounding on the benefits of pure mathematics, physics, and astronomy. Amid the ruins of their own society, they were looking at a perfect replica of the culture that spawned all Western philosophy. Would future generations, if there were any, regard Plato’s Republic as genius or were current times the ultimate proof that mankind’s nature ultimately leads to the injustices of the world? If Tucker could go back in time he would tell the fathers of philosophy what was instore when democracy, technology, and monetary success were left unchecked.
Or was the mere fact that Tucker could get lost in these esoteric thoughts, once just boring high school history topics, evidence that better times were in store for them?
Moving along, they made their way to a Yacht Club in the Marina District. The prison buildings on Alcatraz Island could just be made out in the fog that blanketed the San Francisco bay.
“Do you think anyone lives out there now? Seems like it would be easy to protect,” Bryce contemplated.
“Or an easy place to get cornered,” Tucker said playing devil’s advocate, one of his favorite past times when it came to interacting with his younger sibling. Before the start of the apocalypse anyway.
“Regardless of its strategic advantages or disadvantages, would you want to live in a prison? And getting fresh water and growing food would be problematic … it’s just a big rock surrounded by miles of cold salt water,” said Tucker deciding to stick with his pain-in-the-ass role a bit longer.
From there, the Golden Gate Promenade trail began and
led west along the coastline of North Beach. The pea gravel crunched under their boots and they soon entered an outdoor art exhibit of steel I-beam sculptures by Mark Di Suvero.
To Bryce, the exhibit was like finding images in the clouds. The bright red painted shapes made crude propellers, oil derricks, windmills, and super-sized metal jacks stuck into the ground. He couldn’t help himself and ran to the objects marveling at their size and trying to climb them.
But to Tucker, the steel girders had a deeper meaning that tugged at his soul. It was as if the artist had taken a large hammer and forged hopeful art out of anti-tank traps from WWI. In a piece, called ‘will’, he saw a raw industrial representation of the atom as several 50-foot beams exploded from three-bisecting circles that seemed to spin as the vantage point changed when they walked past. From one angle it reminded him of the symbol for atomic power and from another that of radioactivity. Proving that perspective was the key to understanding something with so much potential energy. It could be used for good or evil depending on which side you were on. The art threw the conflict of the times into light. Preparation, hard work, and the protection of what you love versus anarchy born looting and the savagery of exploitation. Both were viable means of survival … one creative, the other destructive.
But nothing could have prepared them for the vision that came into focus as they rounded one lazy corner.
The Golden Gate Bridge loomed above them and dominated the view as it stretched from their side of the bay and spanned nearly two miles into the distance.
Tucker was at a loss for words and just stared at the imposing engineering marvel. He looked as though he were assessing a potential danger such as jumping off of it instead of enjoying the view of the bridge from the safety of the shore.
Bryce ran back from the last exhibit to catch up and stopped dead in his tracks. His mouth dropped open, he swallowed hard, and murmured, “Just like in my dreams.”
“What did you say,” Tucker asked leaning closer to Bryce to hear better against the wind that was blasting them from the bay.
“Uh, nothing. It’s amazing.”
Chapter 40
End of Times
The boys were no longer interested in sightseeing and the energy seemed to have sapped out of them. It was time to return to the base. As they retraced their steps on the gravel path, a man wearing fatigues and a graying flattop haircut materialized in the distance. He strode forward with purpose, in stark contrast to their leisurely pace, and looked like he was on a collision course with them. Maybe they had been gone too long and he’d been sent to reprimand them or he was coming to warn them of impending danger. Whatever the reason, he was apparently in a hurry and all business.
But as the man approached, and then halted in front of them, they found his demeanor to be more amiable than his initial appearances.
“You must be Tucker and Bryce,” said the man as he correctly looked at each one in turn and then extended his hand. “I’m Captain Terry Kendall. But you can call me Terry. I understand Sergeant Adams already gave you a brief update of our situation.”
Terry took turns shaking hands with the boys and then spun on his heel and turned into tour guide as he led them along the gravel trail. He paused at a park bench that overlooked a small pond, and gestured for them to take a seat as he launched into a history lesson of the area, “The Presidio served as a refugee camp after the great earthquake of 1906. And it was the longest continuously operated military base in the US until its closure in 1995. Our team will most likely set up our base of operation here at the new Lucasfilm corporate headquarters … which amazingly has underground parking for 2500 employees. Perfect for our convoy of vehicles.”
“Yeah, we parked there earlier. It looked like something straight out of Star Wars,” Bryce said … his words trailing off as he realized he’d just interrupted a military leader.
“I hadn’t made that connection son. But makes sense … Lucas made the films right?”
“That’s right,” Bryce agreed, happy he wasn’t being reprimanded.
“Well, there is plenty of space for all of us. Not just for operations, munitions, and logistics but living space as well,” he said gesturing to a massive array of barracks to their south, “and I’m hoping all this green space will also be useful for crops. We’re starting over here,” Terry said simplistically, more to himself than the boys, as he turned slowly and fully surveyed the area as if seeing it for the first time.
“But what about ED3N,” Tucker asked disbelievingly. “We heard Ruth’s broadcast. Others are on their way there too.”
“You know the phrase ‘a wolf in sheep’s clothing’,” Captain Terry asked rhetorically, “That’s about the easiest way I can describe that city. On the surface, it looks amazing. Everything is fully automated and it’s beautiful. But the technology behind it all … is too smart … uncontrollable. ED3N isn’t just the name of the city, it’s an advanced artificial intelligence that can think for itself and is armed with weapons straight out of the sci-fi movies your brother is so fond of.”
“Out of control? What do you mean,” Tucker asked?
“I didn’t say out of control, I said uncontrollable. It’s too powerful. That’s why we left.”
“I don’t understand. With all the chaos out here,” he said gesturing around, “why risk it when so much effort has been put into building the place you just described. Can’t you find a way to co-exist?”
“I thought we could. Then we had a … situation.”
“What happened,” Bryce asked.
“I had the entirety of our security forces participating in an operation to simulate the process of onboarding thousands of refugees. I secretly sent hundreds of troops into the fray acting like armed attackers so the rest of the forces could practice a worst-case scenario. ED3N went on autopilot and unleashed automatic fire onto the crowd,” Terry reflected.
“That’s horrible! Were there casualties?” Tucker asked.
“Not a single soul was lost. But within seconds numerous people were immobilized and a few more inches and the auto-guns would have slaughtered hundreds.”
“But isn’t that exactly what you would want the technology to do? Protect the innocent without shedding blood if possible,” Tucker questioned.
“It was the methods that concerned me son, not the results. You see, we had a hundred security forces manning the defenses from within the walls. But as soon as I put the simulated attack into motion the system overrode our manual weapons controls.”
“But still, all that firepower and no injuries even though the entire skirmish was controlled within seconds. That sounds like precision, not a danger,” Tucker offered while the scenario played out in his head.
“True, and come to think of it, you sound like Ruth. But consider all that firepower working on autopilot. What if something goes wrong and it turns on the people? The point is, the security forces were supposed to be in control, but ED3N decided to cut us out of the operation. And it manhandled trained soldiers, my soldiers, like we were nothing more than paper targets. I’ve never witnessed anything like it.”
“I can see your point. It would be difficult to fully trust anything with that much power … especially if it’s thinking for itself and you can’t control it,” Tucker sympathized.
“The whole situation left several of the more battle-hardened warriors on edge. It wasn’t just that they didn’t like getting slapped around like that. They were scared and that led them to make bad decisions. In an unauthorized attempt to shut the system down, twenty armed men attacked the IT Center. ED3N deployed security bots and killed every last one of them.”
“Why didn’t the system just subdue them like it had during the training operation,” Tucker asked.
“Because they had taken the IT Director hostage and had used C4 to gain entry into the building and were planning to use more to shut things down for good. ED3N, the system, determined the men were a real threat and eliminated them. Reduced them to pi
les of flesh.” With all the things Terry had witnessed during combat over the years he still couldn’t un-see the image of those bodies. So … inhuman.
Dazed, Tucker murmured, “That’s exactly what happened to the dogs.”
“Which dogs son? And what happened to them,” Terry prodded.
Tucker continued slowly, lost in the memory, a pained look on his face. “It was just yesterday before we came down here and ran into your troops. We had just finished packing the car and went back for the dogs. They started growling. And out of nowhere a raiding party of some sort attacked them. I saw a flash of light and the dogs dropped like bags of trash. Didn’t make a sound. And the smell of burnt hair. It all happened so fast. I couldn’t process it all and just wanted to get us out of there before they spotted us.”
“How many of these attackers were there?”
“They were just a bunch of shadows moving quickly on the other side of our fence line. And it was starting to get dark. Couldn’t really make them out but there had to be at least five by the amount of activity,” Tucker surmised.
“I don’t mean to be insensitive but are you sure the dogs weren’t shot,” Terry asked.
“I was there too. Couldn’t see anything because of the fence but I didn’t hear any gunshots,” Bryce confirmed.
“If it were a stealth strike they might have used silencers,” Terry said.
“I don’t think so. We’ve done a lot of hunting and it wasn’t like that. Their bodies, well, they just fell into themselves. Crumpled to the ground. And the smell, like ozone during a thunderstorm,” Tucker said, his last words trailing off.
“Tucker, why didn’t you tell me all these details,” Bryce asked.
“It all happened so fast. And none of it made sense … especially with the adrenaline flowing. I just wanted to get as far away as possible,” Tucker responded quietly.
“I’m sorry for your loss … but it does seem like a similar weapon to what was used during the IT Center attack,” Terry hypothesized.