Vampire's Day (Book 2): Zero Model (14 page)

51.
Simple solution

Bumblebee’s squadron rose at full strength for a massive strike. The pilots had studied this maneuver in theory, trained on the simulator and practiced the exercises, and now it was time to use the knowledge in practice. Before this evening the assault drones had worked in fours, flying on different tasks in different parts of the valley. Now, all the forces gathered for a strike, which, according to the Colonel, would be decisive.

Returning to the base after the raids on the wells and a few grocery stores, Bumblebee made a short landing to refuel and recharge and immediately took off again, like a carrier air wing in front of a great battle. Butterfly was also raised in the air, and now they waited for their senior colleagues, slicing long circles over the airfield. After a short run the last drone took off, and the whole squadron headed for the mountains, where the battle for the pass had begun a short time ago.

According to their battle orders, the Butterflies flew high in the sky, while the Bumblebees were at low altitude, clinging to the fields. A burning village at the foot of the mountains laid ahead - the last Cartel stronghold in the valley, which had recently been destroyed by a surprise attack.

The Colonel took a position at the drone command post and watched the capture of the village from the air. He knew that the battle has begun inside the village, and only later would be supported by attack from outside. Apparently, among the bandits and other civilians in the village there were several infected, which was another argument in favor of his plan.

Although, this was Palmer’s plan really, and he was just carrying it out. In any case, their general logic was correct – the quarantine should be observed strictly, the lightning collapse of the last Cartel stronghold vivid evidence of this.

That is why Richardson ordered that the infected were not to be bombed, that they were permitted to climb on a mountain road to the pass and outpost, like a group of migrating ants. It made no sense to attack them now, because the ammunition for the Bumblebees was limited, and the missiles and bombs needed to be saved for more important purposes. The squadron continued to move forward, leaving behind a single Butterfly to hang over the infected units, looking for what equipment and weapons they had.

Burnt cars were blown up by controlled mines, and machine guns shot long bursts along the gorge. The rattling clip-clop of anti-aircraft guns overlapped with the rumble of heavy mortars, methodically throwing into the sky eighty-five kilogram mines. Having described the perfect parabola, these charges fell on the enemy, causing terrible devastation in their ranks. The assault group that had tried to take the pass was completely destroyed, and the bandits were no longer trying to break through the cars, sending infantry in an attempt to circumvent the outpost on the flanks. On the pass the civil war battle was repeated, but here the government troops defended and the bandits desperate tried to climb past.

Mortars sent out another volley at close range and machine-gun fire cut off the infantry, while overhead the scouts continued to circle. The drones could see the main Cartel column, which stood motionless on a slope outside the range of effective mortar fire. Here all that was left was about three dozen different cars, including a few light armored vehicles and trucks. Bandits and their families prepared for the next attack on the outpost and paid no attention to the ruby laser sight spots, which targeted the sides of their cars.

“Attack!”

First four Bumblebees made the hill and attacked the column in a dive with volleys of rockets, and behind them were the next links that passed close to the ground and generously seeded the road with small fragmentation and incendiary bombs, falling from the cassettes under the wings like hail.

52.
Unknown mechanism

“The preliminary calculations have been corroborated by a series of experiments. Of course, for a full investigation I would need more time, but it’s clear that the injection of pure blood reliably stops memory loss. And the opposite is also true - in the absence of fresh blood the mind damage quickly becomes irreversible. I researched a few infected today, first two who were left without blood under our supervision, and at this moment are completely insane. Patient number three, who received blood in time, is completely healthy - he remembers everything that happened to him, except for the events of the last few hours.”

Palmer confirmed these words with video footage in which Bronson could see familiar faces – his men had caught these civilians this morning.

“I’m now more interested in Pete.”

“He is beginning to heal, but the process can take several hours. Still, he received severe burns, and it took multiple injections. Now he is almost well, which clearly confirms the fantastic ability of the infected to regenerate.”

“This ability isn’t great, considering how fast we go crazy.”

“If you don’t receive blood, yes, you can’t take advantage of this capability. But apply the injections in time, and you don’t need to be afraid of madness. How are your wounds, Chief?”

“The pain is completely gone after the second injection; the scars are reduced in size. How the hell does this virus do this? It came out of space, how does it know how to heal people and treat wounds?”

Palmer lit another cigarette, looking at the picture taken by a powerful electron microscope.

“I will not overload you with unnecessary scientific details, Chief. In short - I'm not sure that this is a virus. Zero Model isn’t a form of life at all.”

“What is it then? What do I have lodged in my body?”

“I can’t yet confirm this, but I think they are machines. Nanomachines.”

“Nanomachines? A few molecules in size?”

“Atoms, Chief, atoms. What's happening with you is the result of these machines working. The nanomachines healed your legs, pierced by shrapnel. They saved Pete Anderson. And they sent mad about twenty-five thousand people in the city, causing them to attack those who didn’t have colonies of these machines in their blood. We can say that none of you has been infected. You have been upgraded.”

Chief stared at the screen again in disbelief. These were nothing like machinery or weapons, at least as he imagined them.

“Let's say it is a machine, you know better than me. But machines usually have a creator, so these things were created by someone with a particular purpose. Does Zero Model have an artificial origin?”

“Yes. Whoever created these devices were undoubtedly being eminently sensible. We don’t understand the purpose for which they created Z-Model, and it’s possible that we will never understand. But we know how to operate these machines, once they are in the human body. They quickly read the genetic code, and then begin to reproduce damaged parts. That's why Pete recovered so quickly from his severe burns - the nanomachines actually built his body again.”

“And the loss of blood?”

“Well, that is simple. Each machine needs a source of energy, and the nanomachines are no exception. They need fuel.”

53. Sundown

The sun was setting low over the ocean waters when the marines, meticulously examined the trench and gave the order to stop work and get in the truck.

“Boris, this battle for which they are preparing – will it be tonight?”

“Maybe.”

“And what shall we do?”

“To begin with return to base, and have a decent meal, I’m starving. Then stay close to me. Do you have the cash?”

“Yes, about…”

“It doesn’t matter. Hide it all in your pants or socks, we may need every dollar.”

The base had changed in the few hours they had been absent – there were more bunkers and gun emplacements, new barbed wire and minefields. The biggest changes waited for them in the refugee camp – as well as the tents there were hastily prepared shelters in case of shelling - a wide trenches, covered with concrete slabs. Donahue was afraid that they would immediately have to go to the shelter, but Boris was right about dinner – on returning from the defensive works they received vouchers to visit the dining room.

“Well, at last, I really didn’t think I’d see you today!”

It was Natasha, awkwardly wielding a ladle at the counter, her gray apron smeared with the thick tomato sauce from the spaghetti.

“Give a little more meat to us, OK? This is Donahue, our new companion.”

“Yeah. Look, everyone here says that there will be war today or tomorrow. Do you think they lie?”

“Maybe, or maybe not. Give me more potatoes and mayonnaise. Was anyone evacuated from the camp? Any departures from the airport today?”

“How should I know, I can’t see anything from this prison, except dirty dishes. But the other women have said that no one has left the base, everyone is still here.”

The Colonel watched the Black Hawk landing, hearing the report about the drone airstrike results. The results were satisfactory.

“Cartel column has been completely destroyed; the scouts confirmed a precision strike. There were some survivors; they fled in all directions along the gorge and didn’t attempt to break through the pass. Our losses were one Bumblebee.”

Despite careful preparation and the competent execution of the plan, they couldn’t completely avoid losses - machine-gun fire from the broken and burning column had caught one drone. The hit Bumblebee tried to get back to the base, but fell into the valley.

“The infected have ceased pursuing the bandits and scattered in the foothills, so subsequent strikes against them were ineffective.”

Those cunning bastards - they saw what happened to the column and realized that to go further into the mountains through the narrow gorge was deadly. Because of that, they ceased their persecution and scattered in the valley, which they knew inside out. I'll have to call Palmer here and bawl her out again, thought the Colonel. She said by this time the infected should have started to lose their minds. So why the hell were some of them still able to take decisive action? They knew that we could kill them easily on the mountain road, and therefore didn’t go to the pass, but instead spread out.

What was next? Now surely there would be an assault, but would this attack be so unorganized and meaningless as that redhead bitch was trying to convince him?

“Prisoners,” said the Colonel. “I need the prisoners.”

It was necessary to catch some infected and interrogate them - in this situation, no one would argue against the use of special measures. He needed to personally learn about the tactics and future plans of these bastards, and this should be done as soon as possible.

“There is an urgent message from the regional headquarters.”

The transport aircraft that were waiting for the night would not arrive today. Immediately after takeoff, one engine had stalled and the pilot decided to return to the airfield. While the aircraft was being repaired, it would take so long to load the containers onto the other plane that it would be next morning. And they could expect an assault this night; possibly as soon as it got dark, in less than an hour. To repel this assault they needed ammunition, especially bombs and missiles for the Bumblebees. The air force had used a considerable amount of ammunition over the past two days. Now the fresh ammunition would not be delivered in time.

“Get me a link to the local troops!”

54. Rats in a cage

“Ahead of us we have many years of research and thousands of experiments. But we can already say that the Z-model is the greatest discovery in biological science since Darwin's theory was introduced. In fact, we are witnessing the emergence of a new kind of human being, a new form of life that combines biological organism and mechanism.”

“A cyborg?”

“We will come up with a precise definition later. Before then, yes, it’s possible to say cyborg.”

“A new species, you say? That is, I’m not human now at all?”

“You know well, Chief, that a strong man must face up to the truth. Yes, now you aren’t an ordinary human. You're much more than that.”

Chief’s gesture stopped Palmer and he tipped back a tumbler of whiskey. Then he poured another. The taste hadn’t changed.

“Go ahead.”

“I understand that this news isn’t easy to accept. No one in the history of mankind has heard anything similar. But you shouldn’t think of this as a curse, but as an opportunity. Think about what you have received. Trapped in your body are nanomachines that can heal even the most serious wounds, as you have already seen. Moreover, they can cope not only with battle wounds, but also destroying any disease, including those that we currently consider to be incurable. A woman with a torn hand, the one that brought the morning, she has AIDS, apparently, she was a prostitute. Well, she had AIDS this morning, when we did the first tests, and now the nanomachines have completely eliminated the infection.”

“It’s unlikely that she is glad about it, because she’s gone completely mad.”

“Everything has its price, Chief, especially superhuman abilities. Give these machines what they need, and you will be guaranteed freedom from all diseases, you will not grow old and will be able to survive even the most severe wounds. You know what that means?”

“I’m immortal now.”

For some time there was silence, the Special Forces officer and the scientist sitting opposite each other in the small office, each thinking about something else.

“Chief, it is now critically important to understand what we should do next. How should we use our discovery? Heck, we have immortality in our hands - this is it, right here and now! Do you want to just give it to your superiors?”

“Shut up!”

Bronson roughly pushed her away. He needed silence, needed to think about this new important factor of his life, crowding out everything else.

He would never have believed her, if he hadn’t seen Pete, who was saved by the nanomachines. He saw his own wounds on his legs, which had recovered in less than a day. Soon he would not even be able to tell where they were.

In addition Bronson had gained something more, which he couldn’t quite explain. It was awareness - he has changed, he is no longer what he used to be. Now he isn’t alone in his body, and the things sharing his body have transformed him into something unprecedented. Perhaps it should feel intimidating, but he has no fear. There was a clear awareness that everything was going according to plan, as it should be. Now he was finally as he had been intended.

Palmer was right - he was immortal now. And she was also right - they urgently needed to decide what to do next, how to use this gift. His bosses sent him, in this wilderness to get immortality, what bring charred metal ball, fallen from the sky, that’s why all secrecy and rush. He was meant to bring them the priceless gift, without realizing what had fallen into his hands. It had always been this way - the bosses gave orders, and Chief does the job and doesn’t ask questions. But this time things had occurred differently, and now he was probably the only one who had achieved immortality and not gone crazy. The only one who was aware of what was happening.

What was next? Report to the bosses, and bring this cargo to them as soon as possible, then wait for a generous reward? Bronson looked through the glass door to the lab and saw a cage on the table. There was a rat in the cage, running in the wheel, next to her water bowl and a handful of feed. On the back of the cage a small mirror was fixed.

That was the reward he would receive for his work. A cage, water bottle, handful of feed, and a mirror, where he would be trapped waiting for the next experiment.

As Palmer had said there were many years of research and thousands of experiments ahead, across thousands of test patients. And among these thousands, he would be the honorary first number. Naturally, the bosses would not agree to apply the Z-model to themselves without a long series of experiments; the side effects were too serious. And then, even if he somehow survived all these scientific studies, what would happen next? Would he be left alone, given the opportunity to enjoy immortality? He doubted it. Eternal life was worth millions and billions in any currency. Nobody ever shared expensive benefits and a bullet in the head would be his last experience. Like the rat in the cage, he would only live as long as his bosses wanted, and no more.

“Well, Chief, do you still want to report to the bosses about the job’s successful completion? No? Well, then you understand everything.”

Palmer lit another cigarette, once again ignoring the ban on smoking in the complex.

“How long have you and I known each other, Bronson? Eight years, for eight years we’ve worked together for the same bosses. You and your guys kicked the asses of everyone you were ordered to, and I with my team doing pseudo-scientific rubbish, when a simple raid or air strike was not enough. You know what our problem is? We do well our business too well. Nobody wants to promote us, because we aren’t beneficial to anyone as commanders - if we went to the Pentagon or Langley, who would do our work in the field? Do you like on the first whistle fly God knows where, to get out of the fire God knows what, when you’re former colleagues received the general rank? I know you don’t like it, that this is not the career you wanted.

“And you can’t fix it, because some of the bosses still hate you. Yes, you were just following orders that day, but the scandal was too large and they wanted to make a scapegoat of you. That old case completely destroyed your connections at the top; you won’t get promoted, a modest pension and cheap gold watch is all that you can expect. Your dreams of a private army will not come true, I’m sorry to say. And now you’re suddenly lucky enough to achieve immortality with my help. Do you think they will be happy that you’ve got it? They will be pleased with this gold mine, but will try to forget the one who found it.”

“Okay, you convinced me that the disclosure of this information isn’t currently in my best interests. I agree to wait until better times. And you, what is in your best interests? Do you want to write your name into science history, for these alien nanomachines to be called Palmer’s machines? Do you want to nail down the money by selling immortality?”

“No, Chief, I want another thing. My desire is very personal.”

Palmer removed her red hair, which turned out to be a wig that covered her billiard ball skull.

“Did you notice that I’d lost weight since we last met? This isn’t a diet, it’s a cancer. Two days before my departure here I learned about my latest results - the chemotherapy didn’t help and I will only for a month at the latest. You're right, when I flew here, all I wanted was to become the first scientist to investigate Z-Model, name it after myself and thus go down in history. And then I saw the Z-model in action, and realized that those posthumous honors may have to wait. In this story I have a very specific interest - survival.”