Ghost of the Gods - 02 (38 page)

This Stryker was far from the standard military model in many ways. It was equipped with a soundproofing package that made it as quiet as a car. While the other Stryker had a pair of bench seats on both sides, this Stryker had a wall of computerized military and law enforcement components in place of one of the bench seats. This was clearly a command vehicle of some kind. With the help of an assist, Mark pulled the power cables from the radio and wireless Internet gear. It was a shame to lose some of the integrated systems, but they could not take a chance on being tracked. The Peacekeepers had a large number of Strykers roaming in the field. They all looked exactly the same, which would make blending in easier.

Mark was familiarizing himself with some of the Stryker’s computerized gear and the CROWS joystick control panel. Even though he knew nothing about the CROWS weapons system, the god-machine did. It was feeding him everything he needed to know through his entangled interface. A huge, high-capacity 40mm ammo locker had been retrofitted to the Stryker. The locker had almost a thousand rounds in it and plenty of additional room. The CROWS used an advanced fire-control system that greatly increased accuracy. The MK19 on its own had an effective range of a mile and a maximum range of almost two miles. With the CROWS fire-control system the weapon could be effectively used at maximum range. Mark turned on the targeting system. The display lit up, showing crosshairs over the current target. At the bottom of the display were range, GPS coordinates, type of ammo loaded, and capacity. The readout showed the weapon was fully loaded with ninety-six rounds in its high-capacity magazine. The electronics used for aiming had both a daylight video camera and a thermal imager. Mark used the joystick to swing the weapon around to aim at the motel. Sarah stepped up onto the ramp at the rear of the Stryker.

“Stop playing with your joystick and help me,” she said. “There’s a mountain of ammo and gear I want to salvage.”

“Do you see these eagles on my uniform?” asked Mark. “I am a colonel. You’re a major. Lower-ranking officers do not order higher-ranking officers to stop playing with their joystick.”

“You look good in a uniform,” said Sarah with a sly edge. “I think I’ll commit a little more serious insubordination later if you help me now.”

In addition to the new Stryker, they had collected three Milkor MGL 40mm grenade launchers, two more M4 rifles, and a pair of shoulder-fire Stinger missiles. Sarah and Mark had hauled over case after case of 40mm ammo for the MK19 as well as ammo for the M4s, Milkors, and their side arms. They also found plenty of water but only a small amount of field rations. They had plenty of room for it all in the Stryker, which could carry a crew of eighteen soldiers.

Mark started the Stryker’s engine. The wraparound dashboard that came to life looked like it belonged in an aircraft. The assist that came up did not match the dashboard. Mark was again reminded this was not your standard military Stryker. Sarah was just behind him in the crew compartment operating the CROWS. There were no windows. The vehicle was driven by video screen and periscopes. Mark inched down the blacktop, picking up speed gradually. The acceleration was much slower and more deliberate than their Humvee. With power steering and power brakes, he felt like he was driving a monstrously heavy car with a bad suspension. In every other way, it reminded him of an ironclad battleship. When they reached a safe distance for the MK19, Sarah was going to disable the remaining Peacekeeper Humvees and Strykers. At a hundred feet Sarah opened fire with the grenade machine gun. Each burst from the MK19 resulted in a string of explosions that was felt inside their 36,000 pound armor-plated fortress. The plan was to make it a little harder for whoever was coming after them. The Humvees were destroyed in seconds. The second Stryker took more hits than expected because of the upgraded armor on these beasts, yet in a very short time it was a burning wreck in Mark’s review camera display. Sarah came up behind him. There was no copilot seat and no space for one. A small fold-down jump seat had been installed back to back with the driver’s seat. Sarah kneeled on the seat and put her arms around Mark from behind.

“Well, that was fun,” she said.

Mark punched in GPS coordinates for the wilderness of northern New Mexico and picked up speed. They were almost fully fueled and had a three hundred mile range, according the trip computer. It was time to retreat and figure out their next move. One thing was certain: Until they learned to quiet their chatter on the n-web, they’d have to keep to the most deserted places imaginable. Mark suspected they had driven into a trap at Pueblo Canyon and been followed from there, but they couldn’t take any chances. It might have been something else like stray chatter or the nexus that had led those storm troopers to their doorstep. If a distress call had gone out from the Peacekeepers, an attack would be coming by air. Mark wondered if Apache helicopters or a predator drone were bearing down on them right now. Inside this rattling bank vault on wheels they wouldn’t hear or see the attack. They would never know what happened.

“That felt just like the Lake Erie iceboat assault,” said Mark. “It could have been the hives coming after us then also. Maybe Karla’s office was never leaking.”

“Maybe it’s worse than that,” said Sarah. “I think this proves what you said the other day. The government’s on the wrong side and working with the hives.”

Soul Hackers

Mark Freedman – New Mexico – March 3, 0002 A.P.

They were slowly heading up into the high mountain ranges, which peaked at 13,000 feet. The air felt anemic. The sun was exceptionally bright. As the elevation increased, the climate had changed from patchy snow to a solid blanket of deep white. Mark was standing up on his seat in the rear crew compartment with his head and chest outside a roof hatch. In some directions he could see for a hundred miles. Sarah was driving up a steep incline in the road. Many hours had passed since leaving Santa Fe and no attacks by pursuers had come. Mark was now confident their trail had ended in Santa Fe and was growing cold.

Their progress slowed as they found themselves driving through several feet of ice-crusted snow. Mark was sitting at the command and control station in the crew compartment. The remote dashboard display showed 10 miles per hour. This was going to be a long journey. He checked the communications gear for an AM-FM radio and realized for the first time there was none. Cell phone reception was gone, which meant no Internet access for tablets or phones. They were cut off from the outside world. He had an uneasy sense from his entangled interface that something had changed in the world they’d left behind. Soon every one of his thoughts was colored by this formless, dark perception. Sarah had sensed nothing and seemed unconcerned. Maybe it was only his imagination. If something terrible was happening, the collective emotions of the population would carry that message. All he felt was a distant, uneasy calm.

As they approached 11,000 feet above sea level, the snow deepened even more. Sarah had switched from four-wheel drive to eight-wheel drive. Mark looked out through a large video screen that was part of the command and control gear. The screen was fed by any one of sixteen cameras mounted in small bulges on the armor. As they plowed through a tiny settlement, Mark experienced for the first time the profound void they had entered. No one lived in this wilderness region any more. Up ahead, a log cabin under heavy tree cover seemed to emanate safety. They needed a place to stay until a plan was worked out.

Sarah drove the Stryker around back and parked under the trees. Mark set up the few perimeter detectors they had left. He placed them a hundred yards out in every direction, then covered his tracks in the snow as best he could. These detectors would give them excellent advance warning. In this subzero ghost town there was little chance anyone harmless would wander by, which eliminated false alarms as a problem. He dragged in an extension cord from the Stryker and then blacked out the cabin’s windows with layers of towels and other pieces of fabric. Sarah lugged in a pair of kerosene heaters. Mark thought she had been nuts, scavenging those heaters and snow gear from the Peacekeeper Humvees. Now he thought she was clairvoyant. Without those heaters at this altitude they would all freeze to death. Sarah brought in two of the Milkor MGL grenade launchers, two M4 rifles, and an assortment of ammo. She had also parked the Stryker so its rear hatch dropped right at the back door of the cabin. With that arrangement they could have the CROWS returning fire very quickly. Mark would have felt safe here even without all the armaments and preparations. They were in the middle of nowhere in the middle of winter. If anyone had traveled by in recent months there would have been tracks in the deep blanket of snow. There was nothing.

Sarah sat down next to him on the decomposing old couch. Mustafa was handcuffed to a wooden chair. Mark experienced Sarah’s deep revulsion for Mustafa. It was like listening to a monstrous symphony composed of a single musical note. She had never shared with him what the Morristown hive had done to her. It was buried inside her like a cauldron of hate. He was certain whatever had happened to her had been worse than his experience. The loathing she radiated was stronger with each passing day. He set down his mess kit coffee cup.

“I saw the hives’ suicidal madness destroy everything forty thousand years ago,” said Mark. “I keep going over those memories again and again. Then I look at Mustafa and it sickens me even more. There are too many parallels between then and now.”

“They have to be exterminated,” said Sarah. “What they did to us was horrible, and they’ll do worse to the world. They’re an aggressive cancer and every cell of it has to die to stop its spread.”

Mark walked over to Mustafa and pulled off the pillowcase.

“Do you want to start with him?”

“Yes,” whispered Sarah.

Mark Freedman – New Mexico – March 3, 0002 A.P.

The bedroom was as dark as a crypt when Mark opened his eyes. He could not see his hand in front of his face. He could feel Sarah’s space next to him was warm and empty. As his nanotech brain reached normal operating awareness, he was instantly worried. A strong intuition of unknown danger was pumping adrenaline through him. He sat up without making a sound. He focused his mind on Sarah and knew she was standing with her back against the wall near the bedroom door. Something was very wrong. He had a clear impression she was holding her breath and her gun. He received an urgent memory capsule from her. They were not alone in the cabin. She’d heard breathing and seen a shadow enter the bedroom. She was waiting for the intruders to give away their position, then open fire. Mark used his photographic memory to build a model of the room around him. An assist drew in the outlines of the door and furniture. Mark examined what was pouring into his nanotech brain through his senses and the n-web but could find no hint of emotional radiation or stray thoughts. Yet he had an unexplainable awareness of additional volume being occupied somewhere in the cabin. There was a feeling of pent-up violence. His sense of the intruder was strongest just at the doorway. The biology was not human. He suddenly felt an all too familiar magnetic tug at the back of his mind. The experience sent a chill through his body. The intruder was announcing themselves as a hybrid. Mark now understood he was not sensing volume but subtle distortions of the n-web. The distortion was caused by a highly developed nanotech brain nearby drawing data in and out of the n-web as if breathing. The darkness made it impossible to designate a target with his eyes, so he was unable to raise even a basic medical assist to give away the intruder’s location.

“I am pleased to see you both are still alive,” said a disembodied male voice that seemed to come from the next room. Mark recognized the voice, but that did nothing to calm him. The foreign accent held the same unfamiliar tones and vague otherworldliness that he’d heard only one other time. It was in Morristown just after the hive had been destroyed. A match was struck in the living room. In the wavering light Mark confirmed Noah was not in the bedroom with them. Perhaps the ghost had never been in the bedroom. Through the doorway he could see Noah relighting the kerosene heaters. He was wearing a heavy black military greatcoat and black pants. Ralph was sleeping next to one of the heaters. How could the dog have slept through all this? The heating filaments began to glow bright orange, accompanied by the ticking sounds of metal expanding. Sarah sent Mark a memory capsule showing those heaters had been running when they went to bed. Noah was toying with them. Sarah cautiously entered the living room. Mark could see in the wavering orange light and shadows that she had the Beretta aimed at the floor. He knew her muscles were as tense as springs and ready to fire. She was wearing one of his T-shirts as a dress. He joined her in the living room.

“Have you had much help from the illuminati?” asked Noah. “I see... That will change tonight.”

“How did you find us?” asked Sarah.

At the same time Mark was thinking, “How did you get past the perimeter sentries?” Noah looked at each of them in turn. It was then Mark realized the hybrid never showed any emotion on this face.

“You were not as hard to find as you should have been,” said Noah. “I followed your noisy minds, which led me to deep tire trails in snow.”

“We need to go now!” said Mark.

“You are safe,” said Noah. “No one else will find you here.”

Mark was not comforted by that statement. Noah walked over to Mustafa and hoisted the man to his feet by his shoulder as if he weighted nothing. Mustafa looked terrified. The old hybrid flinched at the sound of a match struck by Sarah lighting a candle.

“There have been many small kill-zones since I loaned this illuminati to you,” said Noah. “The pace is increasing and the organics have yet to realize what is happening. There were three today and none of them are normal. None of them are the work of the goddess.”

“The radio reports are true?” asked Sarah.

“If they reported kill-zone,” said Noah. “The lifting of the veil has begun and that changes many things. This creature has what we need.”

“I have nothing for you or your pets,” grumbled Mustafa.

“Concealed in your brain are plans for mass murder,” said Noah. “Your kind will do anything to fulfill this insane prophesy. You are no longer protected by a guide. I can kill you very painfully, and the seeds of the goddess swimming in your blood will bring you back. We can then do it again and again. How many times will you need to die before the nexus captures everything I want from your fading brain?”

Mustafa grew white. Mark almost felt sorry as Noah roughly forced the old man to the floor.

“You know I will do this and you know it will work,” said Noah. “Save yourself all this suffering. Give me what I want.”

“I have nothing!” shouted Mustafa.

“Mark, hand me the nexus,” said Noah.

“It’ll draw hives,” said Mark.

“Trust me,” said Noah. “We’re safe for now.”

“Don’t trust him,” hissed Mustafa.

Mark was uncertain what to do. His entangled interface flooded his mind with reasons to trust Noah. It was obviously what the god-machine wanted. If the nexus would draw hives, Mustafa would not be this scared. Besides, what choice did he have anyway? Noah could very likely take what he wanted. Mark retrieved the nexus and handed it over.

“Torture won’t work on him,” said Mark.

“What I have for him is worse than torture,” said Noah. “When this illuminati dies, his entire life will be relived as his essence flees his body. He’s too old and stubborn to leak even those thoughts onto the n-web. The nexus will solve that dilemma for us. When he returns from near-death, memories of what happened will be bubbling at the surface of his neural circuitry. The nexus will capture and record it all. Anyone can then use the nexus to replay the captured memories in their mind. Unfortunately, what is remembered by the dying person and what is captured by the nexus is often incomplete. It can take many deaths and returns before enough is recorded to have memories of any single event without significant gaps.”

Noah switched on the nexus and pushed it against Mustafa’s forehead. He pressed something on the device, which caused it to form into a band that extended halfway around Mustafa’s head and clamp itself in place. The liquid metal display came alive with lines of symbols scrolling up at a rapid pace. Noah drew a black .357 Magnum revolver and pushed the muzzle of the large gun into Mustafa’s belly.

“He needs to die slowly so I can capture long memories. A bullet in the stomach works best.”

“Don’t!” pleaded Mustafa. “I’ll give you anything.”

“Too late,” said Noah. “I don’t believe you. I cannot be sure what you spew is not more of your lies. Extracting your memories from death is the only reliable option.”

“Please!
Please!
”

Noah cocked the hammer of his gun. He had Mustafa pinned with a knee to the chest. Mustafa was squirming. His eyes were flooded with tears. With Noah’s six foot eight inch frame weighting down on him, Mustafa did not have a chance. Mark felt himself shaking. This was wrong… very wrong, but he wanted Noah to pull the trigger.

“Nooooooooo!” whined Mustafa. “Wait! Wait!
Wait!
”

Noah sighed. “Pathetic... Talk, but if the nexus captures anything that does not confirm your words I will kill you and it will just be the beginning. Your body will not survive the punishment of so many deaths in a row and neither will your soul. When I am done, your essence will be a shadow of what it might have been. You have lived very long and proud. It would be a shame for you to die a weakened soul.”

Noah uncocked the revolver and holstered it. Mark had not imagined a human could look as pale as Mustafa. The sheen of sweat on his face gave him a waxy appearance. The old man looked like he was already dead. Noah hoisted Mustafa up and sat him back into the chair. Almost immediately blood began to return to Mustafa’s face along with anger.

“I have seen the timeline recordings,” said Mustafa. “Your kind were always abominations. I’ll tell you what you want, but not because I am scared of your murderous ways. I’ll tell you because we cannot be stopped by you or anyone.”

Mustafa then glared at Mark and Sarah. He spit on the floor at their feet.

“Machines must not mate!” shouted Mustafa. “It is the law of the way of twos
.
Machine begetting machine is an abomination. We communes have no illusions. We know these bodies are machines. Were it allowed, the product of our union would be a soulless incarnation of pure machine. All hybrids are sterile but—”

“Stop!” bellowed Noah. “Stop it now! I don’t care about your superstitions. I don’t care about your lies aimed at confusing those two. All I want are the plans.”

“Plans… Yes, plans… We did not control the last plague, but we did lure the breeders into the maw of the shark,” said Mustafa. “We used our wealth and influence to guide them into plundering Gaia. They are insane and truly believe they own the planet. For generations we have been planting scientific ideas to convince the breeders they were all biological machines in a clockwork universe and that death was the end. This gave them justification for their ravenous greed. Our harvest was plentiful. The goddess judged the breeders as dangerous and culled the herds to protect the Earth.”

“You were behind the plague,” shouted Sarah. “You did that to us!”

Sarah moved toward Mustafa. Noah quickly interjected himself between the two.

“Stop trying to manipulate them!” yelled Noah. “I’ll let her kill you if you try it once more.”

“No… no…” said Mustafa. “I am not manipulating. I am telling the truth. I am telling you the plan. The nexus must show I am speaking only the truth.”

“Go on,” said Noah.

“The communes could not create even a small kill-zone at a distance. We had tried many times and failed. Had it been within our power to trigger large kill-zones, the last plague would not have stopped until our needs were met. For our part we did nothing more than help the breeders be the selfish creatures they naturally are. The goddess acted to avert a future in which this planet became a lifeless rock. Interference with intelligent life is something the goddess naturally avoids. So we had to coax the breeders into creating a problem that could not be ignored. The goddess’s desire for noninterference in her grand experiments in sentient life is such foolishness and such a gift. This foolishness is something we are now using to our advantage in the newest plan.”