I Am Automaton: A Military Science Fiction Novel (31 page)

They stood there in the tent in normal army uniform. No fancy sci-fi black suits.

“Lieutenant?” jeered Lorenzo, “I assure you he’s only a private. Just because he murdered his
Lieutenant, it does not promote him, Colonel Rojas.”

Rojas put his hands up defensively. “Hey, I just went on what this man told me. He’s all yours. Take him out of my sight.”

“Stand up, Private Birdsall,” ordered Lorenzo.

Lockwood stood there with his hand on his sidearm, like a jumpy backup officer at a traffic stop in a bad neighborhood.

Carl sighed emphatically, mocking the gravity of his situation, and stood up.

“Hands behind your back.”

Lorenzo bound Carl’s wrists together with a plastic tie. He then grabbed him on the shoulder and steered him out of the tent with Lockwood in tow.

But before they left the tent, Lockwood turned back to Rojas.

“We regret any trouble he may have caused. His actions do not represent the United States Army, Colonel Rojas. He went rogue and acted completely on his own. Our State Department will be in touch with more formal apologies and reparations.”

Rojas nodded and went back to his work. Lorenzo steered Carl out of the tent. They walked silently across the grounds to a parked jeep.

“Get in,” instructed Lorenzo.

Carl was guided into the back seat. Lockwood got in and sat next to him. Lorenzo got behind the wheel, turned the ignition, and put the jeep in gear.

They drove back down a long highway littered with tree branches and dirt. It was the main highway that connected all of the resorts and beaches to the airport.

But just as Carl thought these snakes were actually going to take him to the airport for extradition, Lorenzo turned off the road. He drove through a superficial layer of flora. Behind it lay a dirt road. Lorenzo drove the jeep as if he had been down that road before, and Carl did not doubt that he had.

As they bounced around in the jeep, Carl had no thoughts whatsoever of escape. Sure, he could have jumped out of the jeep and attempted to make a run for it. Maybe he would have made it, but he just stayed put.

Lorenzo pulled up to a few corrugated tin shacks in a clearing. He parked the jeep and stepped out.

“Get out.”

Lockwood got out and stepped aside, this time with his handgun trained on Carl. Carl casually slid over and stepped out of the jeep.

Lorenzo pointed to the shack all the way to the right. “In there. Move.”

Carl stepped ahead of them, and Lorenzo and Lockwood followed behind. Lorenzo stepped in front of Carl and opened the front door. “Inside.”

Carl stepped in. There was a chubby man in filthy shorts and a tight blue tee shirt riddled with holes—Navajas no doubt—standing by a table and a metal chair. In the corner was a coffin standing vertically.

“Please, you must be exhausted Private Birdsall. Have a seat,” Lorenzo mocked.

Carl did as he was told. He sat down in a slow, measured movement in the chair.

“So,” Lorenzo continued, “Pete’s little pussy brother. You were the last person I had expected to be alive.”

Carl sat there looking Lorenzo dead in the eyes. There was no fear, no anger, and no vengeful glare. He just looked at him matter-of-factly.

“Sorry about your big brother, but he wouldn’t play ball. And to be quite honest, I don’t expect you to either.”

He paused for dramatic effect, but it wasn’t having the desired effect on his prisoner, so he continued.

“So I’m not even going to bother making you an offer. I won’t listen to you beg for your life. It’ll just be easier to kill you.”

Carl was an oak.

“By the way, I’m curious, Carl. Which is scarier, trying to talk to a girl or being hunted by blood thirsty ID?”

He chortled at his own joke. Lockwood, however, did not share in the amusement. In fact, Carl’s whole demeanor appeared to unsettle him. He kept his handgun trained on him.

“What’s the matter, cat got your tongue? Well, I have something that will break the ice.”

Lorenzo nodded to the Navajas, who walked over to the coffin and removed the lid, tossing it aside. Inside was a young woman in a white dress that looked like she had been dead for some time.

“You see, Carl, since you are such a coward, I took the liberty of finding you a girlfriend.”

Carl recognized what it was. It was one of the ID. But these perverts had taken her out of her black uniform and put her in a simple white wedding dress. Her skin was ashen and tight, her eyes clouded with cataracts and dormant.

The Navajas backed away towards the opening of the tin shack, as did Lockwood with his gun still on Carl. Lorenzo produced an AI kill switch.

“I figured that if your brother couldn’t do it, I’d bust your cherry for you. I think it’s time for you two to get acquainted. Any final requests?”

Carl sat there grinning at his torturers.

“He’s smiling,” Lockwood commented in awe, “the bastard’s lost it.”

Lorenzo sneered at Carl.
“You cost me ninety ID, you lousy son-of-a bitch, and you set us back quite a bit. But Lewis will have to give us more. We’ll be back down here before you know it. Too bad you won’t be here to see it.”

He hit the switch, and the dead woman sprung to life. She began to step forward towards Carl as Lorenzo stepped back. The Navajas and Lockwood stepped out of the shack altogether. The Navajas walked away, but Lockwood remained.

“I want to see your first time, Carl,” Lorenzo spat venomously.

But Carl didn’t flinch. He only turned his head to look at the woman as she loomed over him, growling and spitting.

Then she stopped.

She just stopped, standing over him. She wheezed and swayed in place.

Lorenzo looked confused. He fiddled with the switch, and the woman did not respond. “Shit, what now? Damned switch. Maybe it’s the chip in her head.”

Carl just gazed into her eyes as she stood there. If Lorenzo wasn’t mistaken there appeared to be some kind of understanding that passed between them, like he was willing her to be still.

“What are you doing to her?” Lorenzo snapped impatiently. “Lockwood, get in here!”

Lockwood peeked his head in. “There’s something wrong with the ID.”

Lockwood stepped completely into the shack. He saw the woman standing over Carl waiting. “Is it the switch?”

“No, it’s not the switch,” Lorenzo snapped. “She won’t move.”

“Why’s he staring at her like that?” Lockwood was frightened. Carl’s glare bothered him before, but it was as if his fears about Carl’s demeanor were being fully realized.

“Th-that’s impossible,” Lockwood stammered.

Lorenzo walked up to the woman and shoved her hard. She stumbled backward and stood in place. Carl looked from her to Lorenzo. He was grinning maliciously.

“What the f
…”

The woman suddenly lunged forward at Lorenzo. Lorenzo put up his right hand in defense, reaching for his handgun with his left, and she bit the fingers of his right hand clear off.

He screamed and backed into Lockwood, who was trying to get a clear shot at the woman’s head. Carl stood up and walked right past the screaming Lorenzo and out of the shack.

As Lockwood pushed Lorenzo aside and turned to shoot Carl in the back, the woman sunk her black teeth into his neck and pushed him down to the ground. He clawed at her face frantically in a futile exercise that would be his last on this earth.

The Navajas man and a few others came running out of another shed and saw Carl standing there with his hands bound behind his back.

One pointed a shotgun at him, but the woman dropped Lockwood and began to advance on them, growling and eyes wide.

They turned their attention to her as Carl walked away, never looking back as he heard shotgun blasts and yelling in Spanish. As he strolled over to the jeep, he heard shouts and then shrieks. And then silence.

He walked around the jeep and down the dirt road until the three shacks were behind him and out of sight.

Carl’s In Charge

Fort Bliss

Texas

Four Days Later

Carl had been in the hospital for three days for medical and psychiatric observation. In that time, Captain London had been in once to visit him. She had offered her condolences regarding his brother, and she ordered him to report to her office upon his discharge. She set the time and date.

She was a breath of fresh air for Carl. He basked in her intelligence, her beauty, and her sincerity. He thought the sessions were a joke, but he knew she was only doing her job and he decided that he wasn’t going to give her a hard time.

The psychiatrist was another story. The man came in for only thirty seconds at a time and asked him some very obvious and rudimentary questions. He asked about his sleep and his appetite. He asked if he was anxious or depressed. And then he left.

There was one visitor that he expected but who never came—Major Lewis. But he was instructed to report to Major Lewis’ office upon discharge.

He anticipated what would come out of the meeting. He didn’t believe Lorenzo when he said that Major Lewis was oblivious to the plans to siphon off ID to the Navajas.

It just didn’t make sense. It didn’t follow that ninety ID were lost in what was a “successful” operation and he’d just give them more, no questions asked.

Carl figured that it would be Major Lewis’ reaction that would belie his guilt or innocence. If he pulled Carl out of the ID Program, he figured it would imply Lewis’ guilt.

Why else would he pull out the lone survivor of the program and start over from scratch? If Lewis
were indeed a part of the conspiracy, he would not have expected Carl to survive. And, the fact that Carl was alive meant that he knew everything. Hence, Lewis would have to rebuild the program from scratch.

Or, Lewis was going to make him an offer to take Lorenzo’s place
, but this was less likely. The fact that Carl was still alive meant that he killed Lorenzo and Lockwood and therefore wasn’t going along with the conspiracy.

Either way, the ball was in Carl’s court, and he was going to dictate terms.

When the door to Major Lewis’ office opened, Carl stepped in, removed his headgear, and saluted the
Major.

“Have a seat, son.”

Carl sat.

“Let me begin by saying that I’m sorry for the loss of your brother. He was a good man. A tough soldier. He will be missed.”

Carl nodded.

“I’ve read your report about Lorenzo and Lockwood. It’s unfortunate. Two rotten apples that caused the deaths of American soldiers to make some money on the side. Frankly, I’m surprised at the both of them.”

Carl sat up straight in his chair, offering no response verbally or with body language. Major Lewis continued.

“I’m tempted to shut down the program altogether, but since you’ve been away
, there’ve been several more terrorist attacks on soft targets in the American heartland. It’s unclear at the moment whether or not it was homegrown, but the usual suspects are taking credit. One thing’s for certain, the attacks were coordinated. The press is running wild, stirring up paranoia and panic.”

Carl smirked at the
Major. “So you’re pulling me out of the ID Program.”

“I have to, son. The press is all over what happened in Xcaret. They’re reporting dead bodies of an entire platoon of what was apparently US Army in some very interesting uniforms. They’re reporting that there were some corpses that were inexplicably dead less recently than makes sense. We need damage control, and after the mutiny
, I want to start from scratch.”

Carl sniffled pointedly and sat forward in his chair. “You want me out because Lockwood named you.”

Major Lewis’ expression turned to outrage. “Are you accusing me of conspiracy, Private?”

“I said that
Lockwood
named you.”

“Be very careful, son. I’ll have you court marshaled for insubordination.”

“It’s okay, though. It all makes sense,” Carl continued, “but you’re not pulling me out of the program.”

Major Lewis didn’t believe the balls on this private. “Listen, you little shit. Just because you had a harrowing few days in Mexico
…”

“No, you listen, Major. You want me in this program, because I can control the ID.”

“You can—what do you mean you can
control
them?”

“I can control them. They listen to me. I don’t need an Amygdala Inhibitor. Not only do they not attack me, but they take my direction.”

“What in the name of all that is holy are you talking about, boy. The psychiatrist needs to re-examine you…”

“You don’t believe me? I can show you.”

“Listen, son. You’re obviously mentally unstable. There’s no way I’m going to put you back in the program like this. You’re looking at a discharge the way you’re talking…or the brig.”