Metal and Ash (Apex Trilogy) (19 page)

A chorus of “Arrrrs!” filled the room and everyone laughed, easing the tension considerably.

“Okay, okay,” Desmond smiled as he tapped his eye patch. “I’m supposed to get an ocular implant, but it isn’t a priority. So lay off, okay?”

“Or we walk the plank?” Melissa asked from the front row. Beth nudged her hard which then started the two of them off on a nudging fight which escalated until Beth knocked Melissa off her chair.

Desmond just shook his head.

“Colonel Masterson has allowed me to hold this short briefing to get everyone here up to speed on where we are at,” Desmond said. “I’ll tell you what I know, but beyond that I won’t be able to answer any questions.”

“Pretty useless pirate,” Melissa whispered.

“Ghost Bretton?” Desmond asked.

“Yes, Lieutenant Hale?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Desmond grinned.

“You’ll pay for that,” Melissa said as everyone in the room tried to stifle their laughter. “Later.”

“Understood,” Desmond nodded. “But to the task at hand. The first thing you need to know is that we plan on landing within the next two days.”

Hands shot up everywhere.

“Just hold on, folks,” Desmond continued. “I’ll get to most of the details. It looks like the shield issue has been worked out and we’ll be off these ships soon…”

***

The scanners showed that the holocast was being intercepted by the Three’s submarines. Blue grinned and leaned back in his chair as he listened to Desmond inform the crew with every little bit of misinformation he’d been given. Desmond had balked at first, but Blue laid it on the line and the young lieutenant quickly understood just how close to annihilation they all were.

“But won’t that push up their plans to attack?” Desmond had asked. “Assuming they’re just waiting for us to get the shield down?”

“Yes, and that is what we want,” Blue said. “The shock suits aren’t going to be free from sonar detection. Not in the time frame, or safety margin for the troopers, that we need. So if they attack, they’ll be busy coming up at us and not so busy looking at what is coming up from below at them.”

“Risky move,” Desmond had said.

“Deadly,” Blue grinned. “But we are out of options. We are too low on resources to stay out here indefinitely.”

Desmond had mulled it over and then nodded in agreement. “So what do I say?”

***

“And the holocast is off,” a tech said and everyone stood up to leave the briefing room.

“Take a seat, people,” Blue said as he stepped into the room. “Now the real work starts.” He looked at Desmond and nodded. “Lt. Hale, great job. I’d have bought that in a second. Go ahead and get word to each ship about what we are planning.”

“Yes, sir,” Desmond said as he left the room.

Blue clapped his hands together. “So…who wants to blow some shit up?”

Twenty-Two

“Tell us what this is about, Mr. Gein,” Mr. Continental ordered after he had finished playing the American holocast that had been intercepted. “How will they lift the shield if we have control of Canada?”

“I’m confused,” Mr. Gein said, not looking confused in the least. “Don’t we want the shield to be raised?”

“Yes, but of our timing,” Mr. Plain replied. “That is why we worked out our accord with the Council. We need time to get our troops in place on the northern front. This will not do.”

“Your job is to avoid these issues, Mr. Gein,” Mr. Brown Eyes said. “You should have had a contingency plan in place for this.”

“I do,” Mr. Gein said. “It’s called going to war.”

“You are being flippant,” Mr. Continental frowned. “I do not approve of flippancy.”

“I’m not being flippant at all,” Mr. Gein said as he took a sip of his generous gin and tonic. “I’m being honest.”

“Must you drink so much, Mr. Gein?” Mr. Plain asked. “That tumbler seems to have become a permanent part of you body of late.”

“So has your foot up my ass,” Mr. Gein smiled, warmed from the four gin and tonics he’d finished before meeting with the Three. “Permanent and uncomfortable.” He finished his drink and slammed the empty glass onto the table. “This is how it will go down: we attack the American fleet as they move to land. They will be easily overtaken. With Masterson’s forces defeated that only leaves Capreze and his band of nutjobs.”

“They took the UDC Stronghold,” Mr. Continental said. “You are underestimating him.”

“They took on one crazy scientist,” Mr. Gein responded, holding his hand up so he wouldn’t be interrupted. “And a bunch of mindless zombies.”

“And a vast amount of dead mechs,” Mr. Brown Eyes added. “Have you forgotten that?”

“No, I haven’t,” Mr. Gein said. “But that is different warfare. You can take a mech down and cripple it. You can’t take our troops down that way. They regenerate over and over until they can’t anymore then they turn into monsters and kill and feed, kill and feed. Hopefully they regain their minds after a good meal, but even if they don’t, they won’t attack their own troops because they don’t attack the dead!”

Mr. Gein hadn’t realized he had stood up and was nearly shouting. The Three all watched him, wide-eyed with shocked looks on their faces.

“I take this very seriously,” Mr. Gein said. “And I know we can take the Americans down. Plus, there is Ms. Isely’s project. I believe she is still working out the bugs, but she’ll be ready soon.”

“Have you come around on that?” Mr. Brown Eyes asked. “The last we heard you were still not in support of Ms. Isely’s project.”

“I still think it is a very bad idea,” Mr. Gein said. “It is reckless and will lead to nothing but bloodshed.” Mr. Gein smiled and sat down. “But I think I can make sure the bloodshed is directed against our enemies. I do have a significant past with the subject in question.”

“Well,” Mr. Continental said. “You have given us a lot to think about. Please keep us abreast of any new developments, will you?”

“Am I being dismissed?” Mr. Gein asked.

“For now,” Mr. Plain said. “If we have questions we will contact you.”

Mr. Gein stood back up and shrugged. “I don’t doubt it.”

***

“Did they give a dressing down?” Ms. Isely asked as she nearly bumped into Mr. Gein on her way to meet with the Three. “I hope not too bad.”

“Oh, they tried to hand me my ass,” Mr. Gein said, gin flushed. “But I could give three fucks.”

“Gein? Are you drunk again?” Ms. Isely asked. “You may think they need you, but do not push it. They will replace you.”

“They will?” Mr. Gein mocked. “With who?”

“Whom,” Ms. Isely corrected.

“Are you sure about that?” Mr. Gein asked.

“I am,” Ms. Isely frowned. “You really need to sober up, Gein. Get your shit together, man.”

“Or you’ll replace me?” Mr. Gein laughed. “Is that it?”

Ms. Isely stood ice still.

“Oh,” Mr. Gein said. “I hit it on the button. On the nose. Right on the tallywhacker.”

“Tallywhacker?” Ms. Isely frowned deeper. “I think we know each other intimately enough that you know I do not have a tallywhacker.”

“But do you have a heart?” Mr. Gein asked, doing a slight shuffle. “Or a brain? Or even courage?”

“You need rest,” Ms. Isely said as she ignored his antics and stepped past him. “Go lie down, for god’s sake.”

“Yes, sir!” Mr. Gein saluted as he backed himself down the hall. “Right away, sir!”

***

The gin bottle was almost empty and Mr. Gein let it fall from his fingers as he stood over the BC injection molding table.

“Ooopsy,” he mumbled drunkenly.

“Sir?” a tech asked as she came into the room to start her checklist procedure. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“Yeah,” Mr. Gein slurred. “How many brains are going into this Frankenstein’s monster?”

“I’m sorry, sir, but I do not understand,” the tech said, visibly alarmed at the state Mr. Gein was in.

“The personalities,” Mr. Gein explained slowly. Like to a stupid child. “How many are being feed through the cerebral matrix into the BC bodies?” He felt a bit nauseous from the question. Too many words, too fast.

“I don’t know, sir,” the tech replied as she backed towards the door. “The upload is the file that Ms. Isely has given us to upload.”

“The file Ms. Isely gave you,” Mr. Gein said to himself. “Where is that stored?”

The tech pointed to the control room behind the safety glass.

“Delightful,” Mr. Gein said as he reached down and picked up the gin bottle. “Just delightful. Care to join me in an experiment?”

“Sir, I really think you should speak to Ms. Isely,” the tech said.

“Oh, pish posh,” Mr. Gein frowned. “She’s no fun.” He winked at the tech. “But I am. Come on. I need your help. Finish your checklist and let’s see what monster we can make!”

***

“You have got to be fucking kidding me, Gein!!!” Ms. Isely shouted as she burst into the control room. “Are you out of your fucking mind? You’ll destroy everything!”

Mr. Gein burped, frowned at the sour taste it brought up then pointed at the empty drink cart. “You need to restock that.”

“You asshole!” Ms. Isely screamed as she yanked him from the seat he was slouched in. “I should have the Three shoot you in the fucking head!”

“Too afraid to do it yourself?” Mr. Gein said, yanking free of Ms. Isely’s grasp. “Or are you no longer into doing the dirty work?”

“You know exactly what I’m capable of,” Ms. Isely glared. “And you should remember that, Gein.”

“Hard to forget,” Mr. Gein burped.

“Cerebral matrix is still holding,” the terrified tech said. “It looks to have stabilized.”

Ms. Isely’s attention shifted from Mr. Gein to the BC injection room.

“How long?” she asked. “How long has it been stable?”

“Five minutes,” the tech replied. “Should I continue or abort, mum?”

Ms. Isely approached the window and peered in at the figure on the injection table. She slowly turned and looked at Mr. Gein. “What did you do? How did you get it to stabilize?”

“You were pushing a square brain into a round hole,” Mr. Gein smiled. Ms. Isely kept staring at him and he sighed. “You didn’t separate the two personalities. I did.”

“And which one is in there?” Ms. Isely asked, pointing to the BC form on the injection table. “Gein? Which personality did you upload first?”

“That’s where it gets fuzzy,” Mr. Gein shrugged. “Couldn’t really say. There was one file then there were two files. One of them is in that thing now.” Mr. Gein pointed to the BC form in the other room. “The monster shall rise!”

The slap came fast and Mr. Gein barely registered it before the second one landed.

“Hey,” he said sheepishly as he sat back down. “That’s not nice.”

“You are an imbecile, Gein,” Ms. Isely said. “I have no idea what I ever saw in you.” She rounded on the tech. “What is the time frame?”

“If stabilization holds then consciousness should be achieved in an hour,” the tech answered. “Should I continue or abort?”

“Continue,” Ms. Isely scowled.

Twenty-Three

The nightmares gripped him; they tossed his psyche to and fro, bruising it, battering it, leaving it bleeding and whimpering on the cold, bloodstained floor of Outpost Tango Charlie.

Newly inducted Councilman Malachi Norton thought he could handle the assignment he’d been given, but he was wrong. All the power in the world, all the privilege that had been dangled in front of him to betray his fellow outpost team, hadn’t been enough.

Sure, he walked tall and acted like the new leader the outpost needed, but that was daytime. At night, when the lights were out and he was only alone with his thoughts, the faces of Security Chief Andrew Morris and Special Teams Leader Gregory Knobel haunted him. Their silent, accusatory stares unnerved him, leaving him sleep deprived and short tempered in the morning.

But that was war, he told himself. And in war a person did things they couldn’t live with. So they took more lives into the Hell they had fallen into.

“Allegiance?” Norton asked as he walked to the next kneeling person in a long line of terrified outpost personnel. “Choose now.”

The woman, one of the kitchen staff, looked up with puffy, tear swollen eyes and spat. Norton dodged the weak spittle and nodded to a guard. The bullet pierced the back of her head and Norton barely had time to step away from the spray of brain and bone.

“Jesus Christ, Caldwell!” Norton scolded as he wiped a bit of gristle from his left boot. “Let me move first!”

“Sorry, sir,” the guard Caldwell said. “I’ll wait, sir.”

The next in line refused to raise his head and Norton didn’t even bother asking the question; Caldwell waited until Norton was out of the way before putting the man down.

***

“Sir?” a tech asked as Norton entered the command center of Outpost Tango Charlie. “A Mr. Gein is on the com.”

“Put him through,” Norton frowned as he took a seat. “Gein? What do you need?”

“Really?” Mr. Gein laughed. “That’s how you want to play this, traitor?”

“Excuse me?” Norton snapped. “I am not a traitor. I am following the Council’s orders. And doing a fucking good job of it.”

“You turned on your own people there at your outpost,” Mr. Gein pushed. “That’s about as traitorous as it gets.”

“What do you need, Gein?” Norton asked as he scanned some files that had come across his tablet. “I’m busy getting your little war prepped.”

“Don’t even think you can’t be replaced,” Mr. Gein growled. “You aren’t the only dipshit in that frozen shithole that can get what needs to be done done.”

Norton sighed. “Listen you over-important bureaucrat, you couldn’t replace me even if you wanted to! You think I have everything in a data file? You think you can reproduce what I’ve accomplished here? Not a chance in Hell, Gein! I only gave certain parts to certain techs and other parts to other techs. I’m not an idiot, Gein.”

“We won’t debate that point,” Mr. Gein grumbled.