Authors: Jacob Gowans
Tags: #Children's Books, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Science Fiction, #Children's eBooks, #Literature & Fiction, #Science Fiction; Fantasy & Scary Stories
“Will
you forgive me, Sammy?”
Sammy
stared a long time at the commander before finally muttering, “Yes.”
The
commander nodded weakly and took a deep breath. Sammy could only imagine what
pain his mentor was experiencing. “Before you go, I need to give you something.
I have prepared a cube of my memories. I trust you know about cognitive dumps?”
“Only
a little, sir.”
“It’s
a copy of my memories created by scanning my brain while I underwent memory
retrieval techniques. Doctor Rosmir and I have spoken. He has the cube. He will
help you use the device to gain the memories.”
“What
about Al? Or your parents?”
“Before
I knew you had survived, I planned to give them to Albert. But he already knows
them. I have told him these stories a hundred times. And my parents, they are
old and do not need them.”
“And
why do you want me to have them, sir?”
Byron
took Sammy’s hand in both of his. The simple gesture took great effort. During
this time Byron’s eyes reddened. His face was both a grimace and a smile.
“I
am not completely sure of that, either, but something tells me it has to be
you. Sometimes I see an uncanny amount of myself in you. I hope you can learn
from my mistakes.” He closed his eyes and took a slow, deep breath. “I need to
rest now. I have some healing to do, especially if I am going to learn to use
these new legs Doctor Rosmir gave me.”
“Yes,
sir. Can I ask just one more question?”
The
commander’s weak smile told Sammy he could.
“Have
you ever done underwater training? Using your blasts?”
“Yes.
Back in the early days of Psion Corps, we did it often.”
“Why
did you stop? Why weren’t we taught underwater blasting at Beta?”
“Because
we never fought the Thirteens underwater.”
“Yes,
sir. Thank you.”
“And
Samuel.… ”
Sammy
turned back. His commander was almost asleep, his chest rising and falling in a
deep and regular pattern. “Sir?”
“That
… was more … than one question.”
Sammy
stopped and talked to Dr. Rosmir’s assistant to set up a time for the memory
implantation procedure, then headed to the tunnels so he would not be late for
his meeting with the leadership committee. All the usual members were there,
plus Anna, Justice, Al, Marie, and Dr. Rosmir. The Byrons gave Sammy the floor
almost immediately since he had held it when the meeting ended on Friday before
the interruption. Sammy waited to see if Wesley Gibbons or someone else might
object to him speaking, but no one raised dissent. The entire plan flashed
through his mind in two seconds’ time, reminding him of everything he planned
to say.
“Since
all of you know about my anomalies,” he began, “we can skip that topic. I don’t
want to get into it anymore except to remind you that one of the anomalies I
possess is Eleven. In the NWG, people with Eleven are called Tensais. Every so
often we see things clearly—we see solutions to problems. One particular
instance happened on Friday morning. I have a possible plan of action. It’s not
the final statement, obviously, but something I want to present before the
committee. I have reviewed and made slight adjustments to these ideas with the
help of Justice Juraschek.” Sammy pointed to his friend. “He’s another Anomaly
Eleven. Also, I received input from Anna Lukic, my squadron honcho. She has
extensive battle and mission experience and is also a Psion, like me.
“I
propose we undertake two missions. First, as has been discussed in previous
meetings, we send a team to Colorado Springs in Mid-Western American Territory.
In this city is a former United States military base, Fort Carson, now used as
a weapons storage facility to supply CAG defensive stations along the west
coast. From our intelligence gathering, this location offers the best pickings
with the least amount of security. We could get a bigger haul of arms if we struck
Tooele or Omaha, but those locations are more heavily guarded. I suggest that
Anna Lukic lead this team. She has more mission experience than anyone else
here, and is extremely capable. Her team will spend a to-be-determined amount
of time in Colorado Springs scouting this location, then hit the cache for
arms. Once the arms are secure, five trucks will leave the weapons cache. Truck
Alpha will haul all the munitions and equipment we need. Trucks Beta through
Epsilon will also carry supplies, but only to serve as decoys. All five trucks
will take long, detoured routes through CAG territory with multiple vehicle switches
on their return trips to Glasgow. With the weapons and equipment secured from
Colorado Springs, we can launch several effective offensive strikes against
prime CAG targets.
“Meanwhile,
I will lead a team to the intelligence and communications station in the
Territory of Brazil nicknamed the ‘Hive.’ It is believed the Thirteens operate
in relatively isolated cells, similar to early twenty-first-century terrorist
groups, and their primary communication to each other is through this place.
The Hive building sits on a man-made island in the middle of Lake Coari in the
Amazon Rainforest. It is operated by a man named Diego. Whether or not he is a
Thirteen, we aren’t certain. However, NWG intelligence took several satellite
pictures and scans of this building during its construction that give us a
fairly accurate picture of the schematics and layout. It is big enough to house
a full Thirteen cell: at least twenty Aegis and Thirteens. However, we believe it
is possible to infiltrate and hack the systems, then leave without being
detected. If we are successful, this mission can uncover the location of all
Thirteen cells and possibly their cloning centers. If both missions are successful
we will have the weapons and intelligence to make coordinated attacks on several
CAG sites. Doing this may take pressure off of NWG forces so they can mount a
competent counterattack.”
“So
we send in a small team to get inside this … Hive, steal the data, and get
out?” one person asked. “Meanwhile, avoid the Thirteens at all cost?”
“Thirteens
are the least of our problems at the Hive,” Sammy continued. “During our
sub-committee meetings, one frequently discussed problem was how to access the
Hive without detection. The Hive has a thermal imaging sensor. Anything that
lets off heat, it can see coming from fifty kilometers away from any direction,
including up. It also can sense any battery-operated device within a radius of three-hundred
kilometers. This severely limits our options of approaching the facility by any
means except foot.”
“Why
not just parachute down?”
“The
Hive has missile turrets and drone guns on the roof. It can shoot down any
cruiser or skydiver long before they reach the airspace above it. What I
propose is that we drop a team at a point four hundred kilometers away. This
team will trek through the jungle from Rio Pure Park to Lake Coari. Lake Coari,
as you can see, has these three large branches, or fingers, that extend out to
the southwest from the center, where the Hive sits. The longest of these
fingers—the southernmost one—extends over sixty kilometers away. Using our
blasting abilities, me and another Psion can infiltrate the building via the
lake using underwater breathing apparatuses and thermally invisible wetsuits.
We only have three breathing apparatuses, so I propose we take two Psions and
one Ultra into the building.
“A
ventilation pipe connects from the water to the facility. We can use this pipe to
gain access to the building. Once inside the building, we will remain hidden
long enough to determine Diego’s location, use a remote brain scanner to gain
access to the computer systems, recover the data, temporarily shut down the
Hive’s security systems, and call in the pick-up team. With the security
systems down, we can have a cruiser pick us up outside, and no one will ever
know we were there. Questions?”
One
hand went up right away. Sammy wasn’t surprised to see it belonged to Wesley
Gibbons. “A brain scanner?” Gibbons said without being recognized. Stefan
Mayors was about to intervene, when Lara motioned for him to stay seated.
“You’re kidding, right? Those things aren’t reliable.”
“Says
who?” asked a man named Sherwood Frieber.
“Says
every science article I’ve read on them.”
Sherwood
stood up to speak. “Scanners don’t work during interrogations because they can
be fooled if someone knows one’s being used on him. However, in situations like
this, they work fine.”
“What
would you know about it, Sherwood?” Gibbons asked.
“Well,
the particular scanner Sammy is speaking about is the one I happened to …
borrow … from my place of employment before joining the resistance. I worked
for Lunar Tech developing anti-scanner chips to fit into coms. Government
contract work. Sammy’s plan can work if this Diego person doesn’t know he’s
there.”
“How
fast does it work?” Thomas asked.
Sherwood
shrugged. “Depends on the target and how close you are to him. Could be a
minute. Could be ten.”
The
committee sat in silence. Sammy saw several of the members look at each other
with questioning glances or shrugs. Finally, about ten more hands reached into
the air. Sammy pointed to Aaron Lewis, the experienced outdoorsman. “Well,
that’s an interesting series of ideas, but I have some logistical concerns.”
“Okay,”
Sammy said. “Let’s hear them.”
Aaron
started to count on his rather large fingers. “First, you mentioned a
four-hundred kilometer trek through the Amazon. You can’t be planning to take
just three people. You need backups in case someone is injured. You need even
more backups if you have to fight your way out of that Hive. Am I right?”
“Yes.”
“So
you want to take, what? Ten? Fifteen?”
“Twelve.”
Aaron
nodded, satisfied with his guess. “That will take us five to seven weeks, and I
say ‘us’ because I have a pretty good idea that you plan to bring me. This
brings me to number two. No one here, including me, has any experience in that
kind of wilderness. It will be hell. Food will be tight, which means we’ll probably
have to hunt. And third, what will the remainder of the Coari team do while the
three
superheroes
storm the castle? Wait outside and hope for the best?
If you die in there, we’ll be stuck in the jungle facing a long walk back to
the drop off point because we won’t be able to radio for someone to pick us up.”
“You’re
right about the hunting,” Sammy said. “And as for the last part, those who are
backups will be in position to move in once the Hive’s security systems are
down.”
“I
have a question,” Krystal Berry stated. “How will you choose who goes on the
missions?”
“Are
you volunteering?” Sammy asked. “Because I can write your name down.”
Laughter
erupted among the committee members.
Sammy
didn’t think he’d said anything funny. “No, I’m serious. Anyone who wants to go
should be considered. Now, if the committee decides to approve this plan of
action, I anticipate that it will take four to five weeks to prepare for—”
“That
means you’ll get there in the middle of the rainy season,” Gibbons mentioned.
“Correct,”
Sammy said. “But we can’t afford to wait until it ends. So, four or five weeks
to prepare for both missions. Anna’s team will need to prepare for stealth
training and combat exercises. My team will need survival training, wilderness
experience, and three of us will have to do underwater practice runs. I think
that’s everything I had to say.” He nodded to Thomas and Lara as he took his
seat.
“I
have more concerns,” Wesley stated as he stood. He had a commanding presence
about him. Sammy didn’t have to wonder why so many resistance members liked him
and wanted him on the leadership committee. “It seems to me that our
resistance—our efforts—are being taken over by NWG forces. While I know we all
appreciate the help, the NWG has not been without its own problems,
specifically traitors. I’ve already expressed my concerns regarding Samuel’s
Anomaly Thirteen. Personally, I think this disqualifies him from leading such a
mission, however—”
“Sit
down, Mr. Gibbons.”
All
heads turned toward an older man lounging in the corner of the room stroking
his massive white beard. As far as Sammy could remember, this marked only the
second time he’d spoken in a meeting. Sammy didn’t even know the man’s name. He
was an absolute bear of a man with grayish-white hair that came from and went
everywhere. Even his beard was white and wild, resembling something from the
nineteenth century.
“Excuse
me, Mr.—” Wesley started to say.
“Excuse
me nothing. Sit down and shut up.” The large, gray-haired man stood and looked
at everyone else in the room with his big hazel eyes. His expression was stern
and solemn. “I’m probably the newest member of the committee, save for you NWG
folk. My name is Lorenzo Winters. I worked seventeen years for CASIA.”
Mr.
Gibbons snorted angrily, as though he’d heard this story before and didn’t care
to hear it again.
“For
you NWGers, that stands for Continental American Security and Intelligence
Agency. My first fifteen years I oversaw the systems and algorithms that spy on
American citizens through private and public security cameras, internet data
mining, and retail purchasing. My last two years I helped lay the groundwork
for a program called Project Orwell.