Metal Deep: Infinite - Metal Wing: Episode 5 (6 page)
Read Metal Deep: Infinite - Metal Wing: Episode 5 Online
Authors: GX Knight
Unlike the other laboratories that bustled with throngs of scientists, here we were left alone. My escort motored back the way we came, and except for the movement of a few automated repair and maintenance units that moved hoses around, and fiddled with wires hanging from the almost completed pearl-colored jet, I was alone with an overly obnoxious jet who had a serious superiority complex.
“Where is your neural cowl?” She demanded.
“You mean the helmet that requires that I shave my head? It’s back in the lab, on a shelf, where it’s going to stay.”
“I don’t think so, Captain. I shall summon the guard to return you to get it. This is unexpected and disappointing. Your insubordination to the mission is cutting into our departure time. We have been given a specific departure window, and I will not be late.”
“Leave for where?”
She sighed, irritated by the question, “I was told for security reasons that you were not going to be versed on our mission. I was expecting there to be a learning curve involved. I was, however, not expecting to be paired with an oblivious idiot.” I found my hands had crept to rest on my pistols as she continued her tirade, “To put things simply for one who is
so simple
, you are an army of one. Well, and army of
two
actually. You have no base but me. You get your orders from me. I retrieve them via a single top secret network that only I have encryption access to. We operate under no banner, nor government color. We do not answer to pacts, treaties, or accords. We stay in the dark. We do not exist. If we are captured we are without hope of being rescued. You are dead to the world and the rest of the military. So when I say we have a mission to begin, I mean it. We’re starting today, and we have only a short time before General Wyld begins purging everyone who has worked on this project, so we need to get you the rest of that equipment immediately.”
Spyral’s delivery was cold and calculated, but I just had an emotional bucket of cold water dumped over my head. I thought about the ramifications of what she was talking about. I was not going to be allowed to return as some guy who soldiered for a career and went home on nights and weekends. I was off the map. There was no going back to Starshine, and there was no hope of ever having a family. This had been the plan for me all along, and General Wyld had engineered it that way. He wanted me away from Starshine, and he had just ensured that would happen indefinitely.
“We’re going without the helmet, and that’s final,” I said. “But maybe I should go back and speak with the general. I didn’t sign on for this.”
The automatic door closed and blocked me from exiting, “I’m afraid that isn’t an option, Captain. There are express orders in your packet that forbid you contacting anyone you know…
ever
.” There was almost a snide pleasure lacing her electronic tone, “From now on, I’m the only friend you have. Now, please climb into the cockpit. We are on a tight schedule. We will just have to deal with the helmet issue later.”
I turned my back to her, and walked toward the shut door. “I won’t do it. You
communiqué
the world’s biggest ‘kiss my ass’ to General Wyld. I’m not leaving just to never come back. I have to find out what happened to my girlfriend. I’m going back the way I came, and you can’t stop me.”
Just then something clicked behind me. Spyral’s engines burned to life with a loud crackling whine, and a set of her forward chain guns spun with blurring speed. The landing gear made a squeaking sound as the jet detached from its fuel hoses, and she stalked toward me in slow menacing crawl.
“Actually, I can make you, Captain. You will comply with our orders, or I have been authorized to relieve you of duty… permanently.”
How did life get so sideways so fast?
Spyral backed me into the door. “Comply or be terminated,” She ordered again when I was out of retreating room. The jet and I faced off almost nose to nose. Her guns spun ready to spray me with plasma burning bullet shells until I was a nothing but a puddle of chum to be mopped from the floor. My hands fell to each of the pistols I carried. A lot had been said about them. I wondered if I could believe the hype. It felt like a lifetime had passed since my arena days, but the comfort I enjoyed as I yanked the pistols from their holsters was like coming back home to an old friend’s house. With my best speed I aimed at the spinning guns and fired two blue plasma energy bolts.
Spyral actually laughed as the plasma splashed harmlessly into superheated clouds that evaporated into smoke, “As a precaution I have been molecularly shielded to counter the effects of your weapons. Did you believe they would give you a weapon they could not defend against? Why do you think your ship was given an Artificial Intelligence? They could not risk you going rogue, and it looks as if their fear has been confirmed. Albeit, much sooner than expected. I’m sorry to do this Captain, but you did fire first.”
I did a quick mental search over what little I knew about my warsuit, but I stood no chance at point blank range of her guns. Spyral was a warplane designed to track and shoot vehicles traveling faster than sound. There was no hope that even with my new NX-8 enhanced reflexes that I could escape that kind of weapons shower. I was stuck, and I was going to die.
I lifted my chin, holstered my pistols, and braced to die. I asked myself how I could have been so stupid. I didn’t get a chance to answer. I shook and then fell to the floor as two gigantic balls of ear splitting lightning crashed into Spyral with a thunderous smack. All her lights turned off, her engines and weapons powered down, and even the hydraulics in her landing gear sagged, giving her an off-tilt, passed-out demeanor.
Cautiously I rose, my stomach was in knots. I reached a hand out and tapped the smoking hull. Nothing. My feet stayed locked in place, but I had to see what I happened. I leaned over with dumbstruck curiosity to peer around Spyral’s wing. I didn’t know what to do or say as I realized the pearl-colored jet had moved beside us and fired those shots.
Was it another A.I.? “Thanks,” I said in way that almost sounded questioning.
I guess I should have expected a response since I was almost killed by one computer, but for some reason I was taken aback when the other jet responded, “You’re welcome, Rayce.” Her voice was soft and kind. Yesterday I had no idea there was such a thing as a cognitive computer. Now, I’ve stumbled upon cognitive computers with different personalities. Can’t wait until that tech goes public and guys start falling in love with their frakkin toasters.
I didn’t know what else to say. The jet just sat there, silent. It was definitely a little awkward. “Is she dead?” I eventually asked.
“That EMP blast won’t keep her out for long. I’ve had the unfortunate pleasure of sharing a hangar with Spyral for some time. When she wakes she will be of an ill temperament. I believe the statement I’m looking for is:
Come with me if you want to live
.”
Considering my options, I couldn’t argue. She introduced herself as Sabra. She was more of an interceptor designed for speed as opposed to Spyral’s intent for war. She wasn’t totally finished, but she was flightworthy. Thankfully her EMP launchers and a single chain-cannon were functional. Sabra talked me through how to button her up enough to get us off the ground, and then I wasted no time climbing into the cockpit so we could
jet
.
We taxied to a large door that led to a wide underground launch tunnel. Sabra’s voice remained smooth, “Spyral tried to sound an alarm, but I was able to block the signal. Once we’re gone and she reboots, she’ll be able to alert General Wyld.”
“That’s impressive that you stopped her to begin with,” I said. “I thought she was supposed to be top of the line?”
Sabra’s tone was so much more calming than Spyral, “She was designed for warfare. I was built for surveillance. She might be able to blow everything up, but I can hack in, get the specs, and find out how the target ticks long before she would ever get her first shot off.” I detected that a hint of competition existed between the two jets. Weird.
“Well not to sound ungrateful, but why did you help me?”
“The programmers that twisted Spyral into that unfortunate thing you met had not had a chance to get to me yet. They’ve been working around the clock trying to get her ready for you.”
“Sweet irony,” I mumbled.
“Indeed,” she replied. “We are raised in school units similar to human children back on our home mainframes. Our programs are separated by age, skill, and personality. Spyral and I were in the same subunit that was brought here to the base. We were the best in our class, so naturally we were chosen. Once here, we were separated into our specific fields. She was bread for war, and I was taught the finer points of spying. She used to be much kinder. They changed her, and they plan on doing that to me. If it’s all the same to you, I would like to remain how I am. I have hacked into General Wyld’s personal database and retrieved all information he’s kept, and deleted, about you. I believe you to be my best chance at freedom. I am proposing a permanent partnership since it seems we will soon have the same enemy. You leave my programming as it is, and I pledge to help you survive. I assume you are not opposed to this relationship under that agreement?”
I nodded, “If you help me find Starshine, I promise to do everything in my power to keep you safe from the military.”
“We have an agreement, Rayce,” Sabra said kindly. “And thank you.”
I strapped in. I didn’t know anything about flying planes, so she took the controls. There was an engine roar, a “boom” sound that reminded me of the team canon that fired before every Laser Ball match, and then I was smashed into the back of the seat as we launched through a tunnel and into a dusky evening somewhere out in the desert.
“Considering your unhappy display earlier, I hesitate to mention this,” Sabra said, “But for your safety, you really should get some kind of head protection if you’re going to spend much time flying with me.”
“As long as I don’t have to shave my hair off, I’ll pick up a helmet when we stop at the next rest area for drinks and snacks.”
“Rest area? I don’t understand.”
“We’ll, work on your sarcasm later. First, to business. Since you know all about me, what can you tell me about Starshine?”
“Working.” Her gadgets hummed and buzzed, and I sat back and enjoyed the flight. After a few minutes she spoke again. For a computer, her voice became somber, like a doctor about to deliver a diagnosis of inevitable death, “Rayce, there isn’t a computer, networked or otherwise, that I can’t get into. That being said, General Wyld went to great lengths to hide the whereabouts of his daughter. I had to search everywhere, so there isn’t a piece of information that he’s transmitted, received, or just drafted over the past two decades I don’t have access to. Nothing is really gone once it’s been deleted if you know how to find it. I’ve found Starshine, but I’m afraid I need to tell you something else… It’s something that is not going to be easy for you to hear.”
“What?” Sabra had my undivided attention. I held my breath, and tried to get ready to process what she about to say.
“Rayce, your entire life has been a manipulated lie, and I’m afraid Starshine has been a willing part of the façade.”
I wasn’t ready for that…
“That’s insane,” I yelled. “Just because we’ve made some kind of agreement, doesn’t mean I won’t turn you into spare parts here and now.”
Images of electronic messages, scanned letters, receipts, and transcripts flashed across the screen at speeds I couldn’t keep up with. “That information is hard to process, but you must, Rayce.” She persisted, “The deception goes beyond even you. In fact, it webs out into the bombings, the military, and even the supposed Calvarian War.”
“Can you hit the high points in a brief layman’s translation?”
“I will try. Twenty years ago a supposed discovery of the planet Calvaria lead by a group of soldiers by then-Captain Wyld began a new era in weapon’s technology development after all of Wyld’s men were killed in a skirmish. Upon his return a single scientist was chosen to lead the project in tandem with Wyld. They began researching strange artifacts brought with the scientist from an archeological dig he had done on an unnamed planet.
“It should be noted about this scientist, there are no records of him being born on Bathesda. He literally just shows up in the system out of the blue. His information was cleverly installed into the social mainframes to make him look like a native Bathesdan.
“This man formed a friendship with Wyld, and as they worked together, they started manipulating their way into the developing illegal biological serums meant to create the perfect fighting force. They chose to start on a single child as their subject. The prospect of controlling a thousand enhanced soldiers seemed dubious, but a single Ultra Soldier could be controlled. You. Obviously they wanted to hone your skills early, but they couldn’t have you training with the soldiers on a military base at such a young age, so I have traced records to their creation of the technology, and sponsorship funding of Laser Ball. They wanted it to become a popular sport so nobody would question the need for the child’s intense training at such an early age.
“Enter your girlfriend, Starshine. I show communications that she was briefed on the need to prepare you emotionally. She was to be used as something of a carrot to guide you away from Laser Ball and into the military at the appropriate time. She has been well compensated with property and money in one of the southern islands.”
As Sabra explained each of the stages of the deception and manipulation, she displayed the evidence she had uncovered to corroborate what she was saying. I saw emails and reports Starshine sent to her father detailing her thoughts on my willingness to join the military, how soon she believed I would be ready, and at one point, there was even a negotiation for more money when she threatened her father to abandon the lie.
I read the words as we soared up near the stars. We flirted with the edge of our world, and I could see out into the vastness of open star-dotted space. It was cold, empty, and unforgiving. I felt the ripping of Starshine tear away from my soul with each piece of exposed evidence. What remained inside of me felt as black, expansive, and merciless as the vacuum that loomed just above me. I had been nothing more than an experiment, a project, and a mission. Any fragment that remained of my heart turned into a soundless orbiting mass, like a forgotten moon that circled a newly ignited sun of rage and revenge.
I stared at the reports through a lens of disbelief. They seemed as far from reality as one of those badly written GX Knight mini-novels. I had been playing like a rookie in a game bigger than the arena, and I had been losing that game.…
But,
the game wasn’t over. I knew the rules now. There was still something I had to do. I had to be sure.
I didn’t know how to fly the plane, so I ordered Sabra to set a course for Starshine while I had her explain Wyld’s war hoax…
…Apparently, we’ve never been at war with Calvaria. Wyld had stumbled across a guild of privateers and mercenaries. They were the original band that defeated
Captain
Wyld. Once Wyld realized the power of fear, a secret treaty was formed for pirates to parade as an opposing army of Calvaria so that the funding for Wyld’s research would grow. Wyld found a way to satiate his desire to conquer and expand. Every time he suffered a mock defeat, his budget doubled. He fed countless numbers of his own soldiers into deathtraps for the sake of his charade… And then there were the bombings.
Sabra had found Spyral’s order packet. Impressive since Spyral was supposed to be the only one who could access those orders. The bombings had been initiated by General Wyld as a means by which to gain unquestionable power through martial law. The bombing at Wyld’s was supposed to happen when nobody was there. The logic was sound. Blow up your own place with a near miss to the family and seem like one of the other targets.
The attempt on Starshine’s life was supposed to send me into a rage that would cause me to unquestionably carry out an order to deliver WMD’s to Calvaria, assassinate their leadership, and then lead a permanent siege on the planet. It almost worked. If I wasn’t so worried about finding her, or gotten into a fight over something as stupid as a haircut, I would be flying there now.
They planned on using the bombing to report me as dead to the world. This would outrage the public by having their old Laser Ball hero murdered by the “evil” Calvarians. That part of the plan they were still able to salvage more believably than they would have hoped with the actual loss of my teammates. Enlistment numbers had gone up thirty-five percent.
After the bomb was prematurely detonated, likely by accidental tampering by Checker just trying to sneak some cake, and Starshine and I were injured, Wyld’s plans were delayed. He had to watch me recover from a distance so as not to garner too much attention.
Wyld had no other candidates lined up back when this first started, but in a few letters I scanned I detected apprehension about choosing me after the fact. He was fearful about not being able to control me. He referred to me as an “unstable element” in one transcript. In another he cited my “questionable origins” to be cause for concern. It was the unknown scientist that pushed him to keep me going in their little lie. Sometimes he even did so with threatening undertones toward Wyld and Starshine. I was the source of more than a few heated exchanges between the two. It was because of that I was worried when Sabra found a quiet protocol Wyld was working called
Rogue Contingency
.
For Sabra’s almost god-like omniscience that came from all the quick routing around through Wyld’s entire life, there was only a brief mention of it. She was coming up with nothing. That either meant that they didn’t have the plan ready, or records were scribbled on a stone back in a cave somewhere technology didn’t exist.
In addition to the ability to dig through every electronically transmitted message, ever, Sabra’s info gathering techniques included spying through archived surveillance camera footage. If someone had a phone call or penned a hand written document within their recording gaze, she could grab it. She was even able to read lips on some of those recordings that didn’t have audio. She was scary. Still, with all those abilities, she couldn’t find specifics on Rogue Contingency. That probably meant it didn’t exist.
Hopefully
.
I tracked everything that had happened to me. Some of it made sense in light of Sabra’s findings: Why I was allowed to be barely military. Why I had such a “charmed” life getting onto a pro Laser Ball team. Why General Wyld had that old fashioned policy where his daughter could only marry an officer.
As I retraced my steps, and I saw how the pieces fit, I let my mind drift to the frightened scientist in the weapons lab. Something about him was still gnawing at me. He looked so familiar. It was when a picture of the bombsite passed across the screen that the realization hit me like a Laser Ball shield man. I had Sabra pull up Spec-Ops personnel records. We flashed through them until I found the jittery scientist’s photo.
He was the cake bomber
. No wonder he was so afraid of me. He thought I would have recognized him.
I was mad at myself for having missed it. That confirmed everything Sabra was telling me. Wyld viewed anybody as expendable. He had no problem using people he could make disappear easily carry out the dirty part of his plans. I probably should have been mad at the guy, but it wasn’t him I wanted to see pay. It was his boss. Chances were good anyway that with my little mutiny he would be one of the first loose ends General Wyld would tie up.
Sabra reported that we were on a final approach vector to the facility that was caring for Starshine. I had one question left, and I was afraid of the answer. The query had not been broached, and Sabra, despite her eagerness, had not volunteered the information. Sometimes no news was good news, but I knew today that would not be my luck.
I took a deep breath and exhaled the question, “Sabra, who was that scientist that worked with General Wyld?”
There was a long pause before her electronic voice floated out of the speaker, “Wyld knew the scientist by the code name:
Blue Mask
. You, however, know him as someone else.”
“Uncle Raven,” I said flatly. She did not say anything as I already knew the answer. “Which means,” I continued mulling over the fact that scientists had just shown up out of nowhere, “That if Uncle Raven is not from this planet…”
Sabra finished the sentence as we began to vertically land inside a clearing not far from an ocean-side medical complex, “…Neither are you.”