Provenance I - Flee The Bonds (13 page)

Read Provenance I - Flee The Bonds Online

Authors: V J Kavanagh

Tags: #artificial life, #combat, #dystopia, #dystopian, #future earth, #future society, #genetics, #inequality, #military, #robot, #robotics, #sci-fi, #science fiction, #social engineering, #space, #spaceship, #technology, #war

‘How did they lose it?’

‘I don’t think it’s lost. I think someone introduced a Sequence Break Code.’

He broke eye contact and glanced down. He’d intended to add something, but that particular subject had run its course.

Kacee smoothed her leg. He reacted, as any man would, except he wasn’t like any man. Buried deep within his records was a secret medical report from when Steve first entered the Academy. Kacee had read it, and so probably had SIS. For the first time in her life, Kacee had met someone like her.

19:16 MON 23:10:2119

Intra Zone, Wiltshire, England, Sector 2

Beneath the pale haze of the dining room’s solitary lamp, Penny sat patiently at a table of four men. She’d given up trying to understand the Resistance’s antiquated views on women.

The latch flicked up and Terry peered around the door. ‘Coast’s clear. I mean canal.’

Penny smiled; her Dad had kept his sense of humour, no matter how life had tried to wring it out of him.

Uncle Celbrohn glowered opposite. He on the other hand had not. ‘Sit down, Terry.’

Ever since the loss of his wife’s restaurants, Penny had watched Celbrohn’s resentment fester. He’d become vindictive, devoid of compassion. That was probably why the Resistance had promoted him to Regional Commander.

Terry obeyed. ‘Sorry.’

Celbrohn’s beady eyes focused on the three dour looking men at the end of the table. ‘Next week, we start training with the new rail guns; make sure your men are ready. I passed on the intelligence reports to headquarters. So far this month we’ve killed three Defenders and one Advocate. Sectors one and three eliminated another eight Defenders and two Advocates.’

His head slewed towards her. ‘How’s your boyfriend, Pen?’

‘Fine thanks, still working hard for the Food Ministry.’

‘He must have an important job.’

‘I wouldn’t know.’

Celbrohn’s psychotic hatred worried her. He could rationalise what sane people could not. Penny blew into her hands. ‘Can I make my report? I’ve been at work all day.’

Her Dad’s hand rested on her shoulder. ‘Have something to eat before you go up.’

Penny smiled. ‘I will.’

Celbrohn shattered the congeniality, ‘Get on with it then.’

Penny swung her head back to her Uncle. ‘We’ve diverted part of a consignment of levaquin and remicade; I’ll take it on my rounds. Also, a defibrillator’s been replaced, I managed to hide the old one in the usual place, but someone will need to collect it.’

‘I’ll take care of that. What about the antibiotics?’

‘Not yet, we’ve barely enough for ourselves.’

Celbrohn leant towards her. ‘The Resistance are mobilising and the field hospitals need supplies. Now!’ Her uncle’s self-importance left no room for manners.

‘I’ll try again next week, but I’m not going to leave the hospital short.’

‘If you worked at a Continuity hospital you’d be up to your neck in medicine. Perhaps we should hijack another shipment.’

Penny stood. ‘You do what you want, but remember where they’ll go to make up the shortfall.’

Leaning down, she kissed Terry on the side of his head. ‘Night, Dad, see you in the morning.’

‘Before you go.’

She sighed and turned. ‘Yes, Uncle.’

‘I need more of those flying injectors.’

Penny’s despair broke through, ‘I can’t! They were delivered by mistake. What have you done with the others?’

A twisted smile skewed his moustache. ‘That’s an operational issue and as you and your dad don’t want to be involved, I’d better not say.’ He waved a dismissive hand. ‘You go and have your tea. I’ll take care of it.’

Penny headed for the kitchen, her appetite consumed by anxiety. She hadn’t joined for this. Uncle Celbrohn would gladly kill everyone not in the Resistance, including Steve.

22:59 MON 23:10:2119

TF 16, Hampshire, England, Sector 2

Steve kept to the edge of the tree-lined track. In the distance, the holographic observation towers, Defenders and Prefects shone out white against the ebony forest. He glanced up inside his helmet and connected to EAGLE-EYE. Within seconds, the overhead satellite relayed real-time tracking onto his head-up-display.

Three platinum and one gold dot approached the northeast corner. Seventeen red dots waited in and around the treatment plant compound. Each Holo-Sim had a built-in movement detector. If a Quad member strayed into range, it would emit a banshee wail and turn the hologram red.

Bo’s voice whispered in Steve’s earpiece, ‘Alpha two, alpha four, in position, over.’

Francois answered, ‘Alpha two, copy, out.’

Twenty metres from the compound, Steve turned into the woods and threaded his way through. He stopped at the sight of a barrel peeking out from under a moss-laden branch, raised his visor and stepped on a twig.

Bo reacted instantly, rolling away from the APR, withdrawing his Cogent and levelling it. ‘You are lucky you do not have wet trousers.’

Steve smiled. ‘Or lucky you can’t shoot straight.’ He knew Bo’s aim was as accurate as his assumption. A Cogent’s variable-voltage plasma ball affected bodily functions. The higher the setting, the less control you had.

Steve looked up into his helmet. ‘Fifteen seconds.’

Bo resumed his firing position, ‘Francois asks me to take ammunition on mission.’

Steve lay next to him. ‘Did he say why?’

‘No. I think it is part of APR test. He said he would pay me more.’

‘Keep taking the credits. If he’s after promotion he can pay for it.’

Steve lowered his visor and selected overview. One platinum dot remained at the northeast tree line, the other platinum and gold dot tracked south inside the perimeter. When the two dots reached middle distance they both moved towards the first concrete bunker.
Francois hasn’t left anyone to cover him.

He lifted his visor and tapped Bo’s arm. ‘Tell Francois you’ve been acquired by a Prefect.’

‘Alpha two, alpha four, pinged, over.’

‘You - you are sure?’

Calm down Francois.

Bo shook his head. ‘Alpha four. Affirm, over.’

Steve counted to five before placing his hand on Bo’s shoulder plate. ‘Tell him you’re engaging and fire one off.’

‘Alpha four. Engaging, over.’ The silent forest boomed, forty metres ahead a tree crashed to the ground.

Steve glanced up into his helmet and watched the seconds tick by. After seven, a breathy Francois surrendered. ‘Alpha two, alpha four. Withdraw to romeo victor one, out.’

Steve exhaled his exasperation.
Why?

A banshee wail pierced the night air and the seven-metre high OT on bunker A1 blazed red.
Terrific
.
We’re all dead.

 

* * * *

 

Francois’s debrief had taken twenty minutes. Steve stood by the lounge fireplace and watched them leave.

‘I’ll see you all at breakfast. Francois, can we have a quick chat before you go up.’ As Bo closed the door, Steve took a seat opposite. ‘So how do you think it went?’

Francois slumped back. ‘I did not realise it was an ambush.’

‘It wasn’t — it was a UFO.’

Francois’s brow furrowed. ‘A UFO?’

‘Unforeseen obstacle.’

Francois’s brow remained furrowed, ‘Are you going to cancel the mission?’

Steve shook his head. ‘No, as I said earlier, we don’t have time to repeat the exercise. We’ll treat the mission as an extension. I’m curious why you bugged out so early, though. Bo was pinged and he engaged. That’s pretty routine.’

‘I believe we have been compromised.’

You certainly have.
‘Okay, but if it happens again, ignore it. If Bo needs support, he’ll ask.’

‘Will you report this?’

‘Report what? These things happen when a new Quad comes together, which reminds me, how did Morton do?’

‘He was acceptable, for a Gold Agent.’

‘Nothing unusual?’

‘No. Why?’

‘No reason.’ Steve’s concerns had gone beyond Francois’s reticence.

Someone thundered down the stairs.

The door sprung open and Dee burst in. ‘I need to talk.’

Steve turned back to Francois. ‘Sorry about this, do you mind?’

‘No, I am sure it is
more
important.’

Dee changed places with Francois and as the door latch fell, he arched forward. ‘I gotta a problem, man.’

‘Go on.’

‘Michelle’s pregnant.’

Dee’s head remained bowed; his restless hands writhed together.

In their three years in the Quad, Steve had never seen him afraid. Until now. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Yeah, she went to a Drone doc today, friend of Mom’s.’

Steve stroked his stubble. Contravening pregnancy laws carried harsh penalties. A Detention Centre and sterilisation awaited Dee’s sister. His parents faced expulsion to a resettlement area and Dee would finish his service as a Grey Defender. The Drone doctor wouldn’t be so fortunate.

‘Give me a few days, there might be somewhere.’ It would have to be
Cool Breeze
; Jason’s apartment was in a zone. What would he tell Penny? The more he thought about it, the more tangled the lies became.

‘Thanks, man.’

‘I can’t promise anything, I’ve a lot on already.’

Dee’s brown eyes searched his face, ‘Jas?’

‘I need to get RS 26 out of the way first. What did you think of Francois?’

Dee leant back. ‘He’s way off on tactical. He
and
Morton left defilade, got picked up by the OT and bugged out. Jas would’ve sent him back, less an arm or two.’

‘How old do you think he is?’

‘I dunno, mid-twenties?’

‘When I scanned him, his biofield chrono came back as forty-one and yet his cellular senescence was off the scale.’

‘TYPE?’

‘Maybe. When we get back I’ll make some enquiries.’ Whatever his age, the enigmatic Francois was, according to his file, better qualified than both of them. Meaning someone in CONSEC Command had to be complicit in the deception.

Steve stood up and put his hand on Dee’s shoulder. ‘Get some rest, we’ll sort it out. And keep your eyes open, the Resistance might be closer than we think.’

08:12 TUE 24:10:2119

TF 16, Hampshire, England, Sector 2

Francois blinked at early-morning sunrays piercing the kitchen’s oily haze. His lips compacted; the malodour of fried food would ruin his new
Paris-vert
cashmere pullover. He would never understand why the English ate a peasant dinner for breakfast.

Everyone had a seat except Morton, who stood by the enormous red stove and broke eggs into a large blackened pan. The crackle of smoky fat mixed with the clink of metal against china.

A melange of food congested the rugged oak table: yoghurts, fruit salad, cereals, bread, jams. A blue platter of his croissants took centre stage; he would try to cultivate refinement. His brow creased at the sight of Dee. Americans believed that culture began with the invention of the neon light. Francois sat down opposite Steve and exchanged salutations.

To his left, Kacee’s red tipped fingers pulled apart a croissant. ‘These are lovely, so buttery.’

Across the table, Dee picked up a paper serviette and wiped his sledgehammer hands. ‘Puff bread.’

‘Yes, food for birds.’ Bo spoke with a full mouth, ejecting some of its contents onto the table.

Francois looked on with indifference. Teaching finesse would be impossible for comrade Bo and irrelevant for Dee.

Morton arrived and placed a plate of bacon, eggs, and mushrooms in front of Steve.

‘Hmm thanks.’ He cut off a piece of mushroom. ‘Where did the mushrooms come from?’

‘Bo foraged them this morning.’

Steve removed the mushroom tipped fork from his mouth. ‘Bo picked them?’

‘Yes, he is very good, not a single amanita.’

‘I hadn’t realised you were a mycologist, Morton. What other talents are you hiding?’

Francois watched Steve’s gaze narrow.
Does he suspect Morton is an AH? How?

After breakfast, they all moved to the lounge.

Steve walked to the front. ‘You all have the RS 26 mission profile now. I’ve decided to let Morton come along as an observer. The RV’s at FH 1, twenty-two hundred. A Whisper will fly us in to an LZ two K west of the target. We’ll go off net and move due west for one K. Dee will take position at the east FP. The rest of us will track northwest to mid-point and then turn ninety to the JOP. I’ll jump off thirty metres out from the northeast vertex. Any questions?’

Francois looked up. His plan required him to be at the rear, his deliberate mistakes during yesterday’s exercise would guarantee it. ‘I thought Dee was to be on the west side?’

‘He was, but if we’re lit, the Pree’s could cut off our exit. Dee will have a clearer LOS from the east.’

Steve nodded at Morton’s raised hand. ‘Yes Morton.’

‘We’re not going to fire our weapons, are we?’

Morton jerked under Dee’s backslap. ‘You bet we are man, everyone’s expendable, you know that.’

Steve flashed a scowl. ‘Don’t listen to him, I’m speaking hypothetically. We won’t be carrying any ammo. If you’re challenged, surrender. Don’t worry; nobody will know we’ve been. At least not until the Commandant’s asked to retrieve the two kilos of Tyhdratex from under the Hyperlon cooling ring.’ His sharp eyes found each of them in turn. ‘Anymore?’

Francois shook his head, there would be two
armes chauds
on the mission, but only one would be theirs. This would be Jannae’s first assignment. Steve’s remorse over Dee’s coming death and his isolation from the Quad would make her task easy. Dee returned Francois’s amiable smile.

Kacee stood, her red-tipped hands curved around the hips of her beige trousers. ‘Before you all go I’d like to introduce someone very special.’

Francois noticed Steve flex his fingers.

Kacee extended her arm towards Morton. ‘Gentlemen, let me introduce an AH-74 Infiltrator, the most advanced artificial human ever built. Stand up Morton, or is it Nigel?’ Francois knew who it was.

Morton rose. Seconds later his face transformed, cheekbones rose, the nose extended and tapered. Even in this light, Francois could see the change in eye colour and skin tone.

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