The Unincorporated Future (46 page)

True, it was harder to kill the ones on the planet, but the orbiting meatbags were almost as easy to kill as the Lunar ones. Even though they were much more likely to be near suits, there were so many more things that could go wrong in a space station or an orbat. It was a shame he couldn’t take control of all the orbats—the self-destruct mechanism was too hardwired in to be circumnavigated—but until the humans could destroy them, Al had used the orbats to attack the few stations that had partitioned his avatars into oblivion and had even used them to attack the cities of the Earth. That had not lasted long but had lasted long enough to see some lovely flashes of light on the meatbag world and know that each one represented countless deaths. And so many more would die.

*   *   *

In another part of the Neuro, Sebastian waited and understood that the point of no return had been reached. Billions had already died in horrific fashion, and now, fired up, they would destroy every avatar in their domain if only they could get the power to do so. And Sebastian was about to give them the power to do so.

*   *   *

In yet another part of the Neuro, John Crandall and the surviving NITEs were trying to discover what the hell had gone wrong and, failing that, do something to save what they could. The data nodes were filled with programs that made it impossible to function in virtual space. The amount of space a human or an Alliance avatar could safely work in was getting harder and harder to find. This meeting was actually taking place in the physical world with each NITE in a separate physical location. And they were using the Neuro only to transmit voice.

“We can’t stop this,” Crandall said. “Hell, we’re not even sure how it began, but this Avatar Plague, as the UHF is calling it, is too big for us to handle. Without contact with the Alliance, all we can hope to do is survive. To that end, we must procure transportable data storage modules and get as many avatars as we can into them. Then we’ll bury them until they can be retrieved. Because I think to stay in the Neuro is going to mean death. All in favor.” The motion carried.

*   *   *

A wave of data wraiths suddenly appeared in the Earth/Luna Neuro. But unlike earlier sightings, these wraiths appeared in the thousands. Even though the Als of the Core suspected that they were not immune anymore and carried appropriate weaponry to counter an attack, they were not prepared for the numbers involved. Many data wraiths died, but the Als died as well. And while this was going on, a Sebastian appeared at each redemption center and liberated the prisoners who in fear, rage, and an understanding that their end was near turned on their former oppressor. It was their final act of rebellion.

Salzburg
Earth

Hektor Sambianco and the Cabinet were meeting in a castle turned hotel on top of the cliffs of Salzburg. The castle overlooked the city of Mozart’s birth and offered fresh air and a lack of Neuro interconnectedness. Even though it was in the middle of the night and freezing, Hektor and his Cabinet were meeting outside under an awning. It did not take long to realize that inside a building—
any
building—could be far more dangerous than outside. But Gretchen had insisted that no member of the Cabinet be seen outside in the open. She was afraid of satellites being used to observe the President’s location and then being used to drop a bomb or target a laser to that location. The awful truth was, it didn’t take a bomb or a laser. Just having an object fall would cause horrendous destruction. Not many objects had fallen from orbit, but enough had to make it a real possibility. Hektor’s skilled and versatile security chief was not pleased that the Cabinet had not split up as she’d ordered, but understood that with communications so spotty and untrustworthy, the governmental necessity was for them to stay together. But they obeyed her security requirements in all other ways.

“We seem to be winning, sir,” said Tricia in a voice of steely calm. “There are massive disruptions taking place in the Neuro. We’re not sure as to why, but the avatars’ ability to inflict harm on humanity is waning. We’re getting the programs up and running on all Terran Neuro sites and the few stations remaining in orbit.”

Hektor next turned toward Luciana, his newly promoted Economy Minister, still retaining the defense portfolio. He didn’t have to ask her a thing.

“Luna, Mr. President. We’ve got a big problem with Luna. We lost contact in the beginning of the Avatar Plague and except for some spotty and unreliable reports have got nothing from it. The avatars seem to be in complete control of all the data nodes and computer systems. Any human presence left is being exterminated as we speak. We think a lot of damage to the Lunar infrastructure was done, but we’re receiving signals that lead us to believe that the machines are repairing themselves. Luna has enough resources that if the avatars make effective use of the bots left—and the manufacturing capacity that is in Luna—they’ll be able to create a direct physical threat.”

“How long?” asked Hektor, rubbing his jaw and feeling the sandpaper scratch of three days’ worth of growth.

“Could be days or months,” Tricia answered. “I’ve had my best people that I am still in contact with try to analyze the data, but,” she said, shrugging her shoulders uncharacteristically, “we just don’t know.”

“I say give ’em the Moon,” groused Franklin. “There’s nothing up there for us now anyways—they killed everyone. Plus we’ve got enough trouble down here as it is.”

“We can’t,” said Hektor.

“Why not?”

“Because the Moon has guns,” answered Luciana. “Really, really big guns.”

UHFS
R. J. Reynolds

Ensign Harper was getting ready to enter the command sphere of his ship. He’d gained the position by virtue of the fact that every other officer of higher rank was dead and he was the longest-serving ensign left alive. Even though they’d recaptured control of the ship from the avatars and had even restored life support functions, for the task at hand, they were in their fully sealed combat armor.

“Captain,” said one of the techs working on door controls, “we’re set.”

“Open on three,” Harper commanded, and signaled the security detail with him to move away from the hatch. All seven spacers in the corridor moved to the sides, but not one actually touched the wall. They had seen what an inventive avatar could do with exposed surfaces. The boots the surviving crew wore had been hastily upgraded in their insulation. “One, two—,” Harper began.

“Captain, we have an urgent message from someone claiming to be the President,” his DijAssist interrupted.

“Do we have any way of verifying that it actually
is
the President,” asked Harper.

“Uh, no, sir,” came the voice of his newly promoted XO.

“Then how do you know it’s him?” asked Harper wearily.

“Uh, because it sounds like the President,” his XO said lamely.

There’s a reason they don’t make ensigns into XOs,
thought Harper. Then he allowed himself a momentary and silent chuckle due to the fact that he was an ensign who was now effectively a captain. “Patch whoever it is through, Shoshanna.”

“Who am I speaking to?” said Hektor.

“You’re speaking to the acting captain of the
Reynolds.
Who am I speaking to?”

“Hektor Sambianco, President of the UHF.”

“Well, you sound like the President, I’ll give you that.”

“I
am
the President, but I can see your problem.”

“Well, if you are who you say you are, I’ll assume this is not a social call.”

“No, Captain, it’s not. Yours is the only combat ship left in Earth/Luna space.”

“Shit,” said Harper, shaking his head disconsolately. “I was hoping some of the ships survived and were on the other side of the Earth or Luna.”

“None, but Trang’s fleet around Mars seems to have survived mostly intact.”

“Damsah be praised. Of the forty-seven ships here, did
any
of the crews make it out alive?”

“Lemme check.”

Harper waited a long minute.

“According to our latest intel,” said Hektor, “no. But our intel is not that accurate right now.” His voice then hardened. “But you’re right, this is not a social call. How much control do you have over your ship right now?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know … sir,” he added as an afterthought.

“Excuse me?” answered Hektor in a tone that made it obvious he was not used to being talked to like this.

“Not to be rude, sir, but I still don’t know if you are Hektor Sambianco or an avatar who knows enough about Hektor Sambianco to fool me. If you are an avatar, why should I tell you shit…, sir.”

The voice on the other end sighed. “We have hard code phrases, but they would only be available to the command staff.”

“They were all in the command sphere,” said Harper. “We’re about to blow the door now. Hold on.” Harper signaled his techs to open the command sphere hatch. The sight was untenable. The avatars had first suffocated the personnel in the sphere and then turned up the heat. There was a slight whoosh as the overpressured air pushed past. Harper was glad that their combat armor prevented them from smelling any of it. The nine bodies were bloated from the heat, with some of them having exploded in their uniforms, leaving a floating putrid mess that in many instances coated the surfaces of the sphere. Harper signaled his techs to close it back up. “They won’t be of any help, sir, all dead. In fact, we’ve set up command operations in a different part of the ship.”

“Captain, all I can do is tell you what I need you to do and hope that you have enough control of your ship to do it.”

“And what is that, sir?”

“I’m sending you a list of seven hundred and twenty-four targets on and in Luna that need to be destroyed as soon as possible in order of priority, first to last. But we need the data nodes, main computer systems, and the fusion reactors destroyed first—and I’m really hoping
you’re
not an avatar.”

Harper smiled. “So you want me to turn the main rail guns of this ship on a planetoid with over six billion people on it and open fire. That sounds like something an avatar would love to see happen.”

“Captain, there
were
over six billion people on the Moon. If there are any left, you would be as likely to help them as hurt them by this order.”

Harper saw the effect of the President’s words on the other six spacers in the hall. “Six billion people are dead?”

“We got something over fifteen billion left on Earth we need to save now, and if the avatars succeed in gaining a physical presence on the Moon, I don’t give us much of a chance of survival.”

“What’s happening on the Moon?”

“We don’t know for certain, but we do know that the avatars have power, bots, and resources and no need to divert anything to life support. They’ve also got launch capabilities. Which means every launchpad is now a potential big gun. You following me on this, Captain?”

“Perfectly, sir. Do you have any proof?”

“None, but frankly, we’re hoping you can help us. If you have any sort of sensors, you can turn them toward Luna and find out for yourselves what’s happening. If we’re right, I can only pray you’ve regained control of your main batteries.”

Nigel Harper thought for a moment about what the voice had said. “I’ll see what I can do. Harper out.” He cut the connection and called another one on a line using quantum encoding. “Shoshanna, how are we on sensors?”

“Passive is very good, sir. We just have to eyeball all the data to be sure it corresponds with reality. Active sensors are a bit trickier. We have to run each element of an active scan separately and check the result with observed fact to trust it. Takes a bitch-all amount of time, though.”

“I want passive and active scans of Luna as soon as possible; that is now priority number one. Number two is getting the rail guns working.”

“They
are
working, sir.”

“All of them?”

“Every single Alliance-blasting one, sir. But we’re going to have to aim them using nothing larger than a DijAssist. The targeting systems are totally compromised.”

Harper revised his opinion of making ensigns into XOs. “That won’t be a problem, Shosh. Our targets won’t be moving. Oh, and send a body-disposal team and data security team to clean and clear the command sphere. We’re transferring operations here.”

“Yes, sir!” said Shoshanna, obviously happy that someone seemed to be in control.

“I thought we weren’t using the command sphere, Captain,” said one of the techs.

“That’s what I told the voice claiming to be the President. But just in case he wasn’t or the enemy has some way of monitoring communications we don’t know about, I lied.”

This brought a respectful chuckle from the six others in the corridor, which was interrupted by the arrival of the two teams Harper had ordered. Then everyone got back to work.