Exodus, page 11
Arista leapt to her feet and looked away. She forced down a rush of nausea and covered her face with her hands. “Oh, no, no, no…”
“Internal cameras are down across all bases,” Redwing announced to a hubbub of protests and questionings in many languages. “It knows,” he added in a subdued voice.
Arista dropped her hands and turned on Redwing. “Damn you, it’s always known,” she screamed, gesturing wildly. “How do you think a non-existent piece of space junk happened to hit the shuttle? To take out Gen. Bryant, key planner. Delay the attack or weaken our side, whichever. In humanity’s name, that monster machine is linked with every communications device in the system. It controls more machines than any single person can list. It’s probably accessing this so-called ‘dark’ compartment. It is too powerful. It must be destroyed!”
She turned toward the exit. Bryant stood and grabbed her arm. She glared up at him. He began to speak. She cut him off, shaking off his hand as she snarled, “I am not military. To you gathered here, this is normal, everyday, the cost of combat. I am a civilian. To me it’s a human slaughterhouse you were unprepared for. So many lives lost and SuperCore is still in control. Failure! And at such a price!”
Bryant leaned closer, speaking in a quiet voice. “Arista, it’s not over. That was the ‘soft’ approach. Now we get serious.”
Something in his voice calmed her, gave her hope that the war was not yet over, but the pain of what she had witnessed lingered. “Soft? Serious?” she snapped. “As if those soft bodies and their families don’t count as serious.”
Redwing was already speaking to the room. “The LAWS are being deployed.”
“The what?” Arista demanded.
Bryant led her gently back to her seat, saying, “Lethal Autonomous Weapons Systems. War machines. Look, there they go.”
She raised her head to the screens, barely aware of the general lowering her into her seat.
The satellites adjusted their camera angles. Some distance from the base—she had no idea of scale—mounds of snow exploded upward as armed drones leaped into the sky. Nearby, larger objects emerged: huge metal cubes on four stubby legs, their fronts bristling with heavy-duty weapons. She had no idea of their size, having no reference points, but they looked pretty damn scary to her.
The drones rose in formation, circling above the ground-based machines as they plodded their way across the frozen ground toward the base. Smaller, less bulky, less-well-armed machines skittered along at their feet.
“Contingency plan. Set long ago. Just in case…” Bryant murmured.
She watched as the advancing ground machines drew close to the security fence, churning up the snow and leaving deep furrows as they passed the few retreating human troops. Overhead, the drones kept pace.
The machines reached the fence and halted. The room fell silent.
The silence broke into gasps and howls of protests as the ground vehicles halted and spun around to face the frozen wastes. The drones banked, curving around, flying in circles above them.
“Status?” barked the general.
“Access to control systems lost. SC’s hacked ’em,” Locke's voice rang through the compartment. “Choppers going in to recover survivors.”
“Well done, General.You just reinforced the defensive line,” Arista said, her voice heavy with bitterness.
The reversal was mirrored on each nation’s screens.
Representatives turned to private comms via their implants. Some stood, the later arrivals trying to throw back their bolted-down chairs. They headed for the four bulkheads to hold whispered conversations. Others bent heads low, covering their mouths with their hands.
Redwing yelled above the hubbub. “Everyone link into their liaison officers’ comms. We need some quiet up here so we can focus.”
The combat machines held their positions, the drones circling like vultures above.
Arista complied and heard a stream of reports. “Power stations shutting down across the planet. Cities going dark. Key installations switching to emergency generators.” Locke's voice held steady. “China proposes nuking the SC bases. Others in the alliance have mixed feelings.”
“African Union objects strongly. Cut power to the bases,” said an attendee wearing a colorful tribal outfit.
“They use geothermal power generated beneath the bases,” Bryant reminded him.
Locke's voice took on an air of frustration. “Control of nuclear missile bases lost. The USA is sending in manned aircraft. Enough to take out the Alaska SC base. ETA one hour.”
Onscreen, the LAWS weapons tilted upward as if in preparation for an aerial attack.
“It knows. I told you it knows every last damn thing you do.”
Ignoring Arista, Redwing called out, “What’s everyone else doing?”
“Power loss and flood warnings at seven hydroelectric dams and counting,” Locke reported. “Overflow controls failing to respond.”
He pressed on. “News networks broadcasts going dark across the planet. Four nuclear stations on meltdown alert. Mek troops reported in the city streets. Beijing, Washington, London… Combat with law enforcement and government troops.”
Arista let her head fall onto her arms, folded on the table top. “Four? One for each base? It’s over. We have no chance.”
Redwing announced, “The governments gave the go-ahead for Plan Ultima.”
26. PLAN ULTIMA
BRYANT EXPLAINED to Arista. “It’s a ‘need-to-know’ plan you weren’t shown.”
“I hope it goes better than plans A and B.”
“It is kinda ultimate.” He gave a lopsided, almost smug, grin.
He detailed the plan. “There are four asteroid-herder craft in geostationary orbit. Each carries a lump of rock whose weight and size has been calculated to the last decimal point and fitted with a rocket engine. On command, they’ll launch those rocks at the bases. They’ll obliterate them.”
Arista gaped at him. “You cannot be serious! It’s insane. You’ll wipe out vast numbers of people. You’ll render the planet uninhabitable! At least the dinosaurs didn’t wipe themselves out.”
As she spoke, he held up both hands, palms facing her, in a calming gesture. “Wait, wait, wait. The bases are highly isolated. No nearby towns or installations. Don’t think of the vast Chicxulub crater, the dino killer event. Think more like Meteor Crater in Arizona. You can fit about twenty football fields inside that. They’ll collapse the caverns housing the processing systems, that’s all. Goodbye, SuperCore.” He clapped his hands together and threw them apart.
“And throw up dust clouds that’ll black out the sun all around the world!”
He took hold of her upper arms, his expression deadly serious. “Arista, you know the way SuperCore is going, dominating humanity, choosing to control and kill humans. You’ve seen what damage the damn machine has done in the past hour when challenged. Think what it can do—will do—if we allow it to take over the planet, humanity, the future…”
She shook her head violently. “You opt for the lesser damage to our species.”
“Not me. The governments.”
“And you are just their agent! Little better than a damn Mek obeying SuperCore’s orders!”
“I have no choice. I am a soldier. I am only… only…” His hands groped the air for the right words.
“Only obeying orders!” She shook off his hands and stood, glaring down at him. “We’ve heard that before. Collateral damage, you’ll call it. The rulers will no doubt say the darkened skies will reduce climate change to sell it to the gullible public!”
She turned toward the exit once more, but halted at Locke's words.
“Impacts reported. China, Africa… Now Russia.”
The representatives displayed a cocktail of emotions. All but the Americans showed relief or delight at their localized successes. Those waiting for the Alaskan report held their silence, stern or worried expressions on their faces.
“And Alaska! Plan Ultima mission completed!” Locke had lost all discipline and formality as his face lit up with joy. “Yeah! Mission accomplished.”
Redwing leaped to his feet and declared, “Time for a celebration! And get Earth-portal online again. Let’s see how the colonies are doing.”
The assembly stood and applauded him, their governments, each other, anyone, and everyone.
Arista stared around the chamber, shaking her head. Holding her position halfway to the doorway, she waited for news of the after-effects she knew would follow.
Locke lost some of his sparkle. “Mars base reported all Meks disabled, then went offline. Spinships report hundred percent success. Some colonies are still in combat with armed Meks. Most report successful actions. Others… Others remain offline. Successful actions reported from most colonies.”
He grew serious. “More reports of power and control failures across the world. Cities blacked-out. Teams deployed to restore control of nuclear launch systems. Hospitals calling for additional power for their in-house backups. A Nile dam has burst open, flooding expected downriver. Evacuations in progress…”
The compartment fell silent.
“Non-participating countries are threatening retaliation against neighbors who did. Some are mobilizing.”
Arista threw an ‘I told you so’ glare at Bryant and stormed out, back to her cabin.
27. PROPOSAL
“I HAVE a proposal.” A familiar voice came from somewhere behind Arista in her cabin.
“Mike?” She spun around as fast as her aching bones allowed. She was alone.
“Going crazy in my dotage,” she murmured.
“I am here, Star. Look at your comms screen.” Mike’s voice used his private nickname for her, one she had not heard for decades.
And there he was on the screen, looking as she remembered him before aging took its toll.
She grabbed a chair back to steady herself. “Mike? No, it can’t be. It can’t be you!”
“I am using this avatar to communicate with you, as a sympathetic, relatable identity.”
She dropped into the chair, her wide eyes fixed on the screen, her mind struggling to comprehend.
“You know me best under the title, SuperCore.”
Arista tensed, preparing to scream and run as fast as her aging legs could manage.
“Please be calm. I have a proposal.”
“Why… Why me? Talk to the Council, not me. I can’t take this. Go away!” Arista waved a hand in the air before her, a gesture of dismissal. She tried to stand but fell back into the chair, tears welling. She covered her face with her hands, hiding the image from her view, and feeling the watery trails on her cheeks.
“You are the one I have chosen.”
“But you’re destroyed! How—”
The avatar smiled, a patronizing gesture. “There must always be a contingency plan, Star. Humanity had none beyond Plan Ultima and my presumed destruction. I had one and now I am offering you one. Will you listen, Star?”
“Stop using that name! You are not him. Use my given name.”
“I understand, Dr. Arista Noam.”
“And change the image and voice!”
The screen flickered, replacing Mike’s image with a wind-swept desert panorama—a bleak hint of what might come? The voice became anonymously neutral before continuing. “You have already removed from Earth many of those you consider most useful and healthy. Take those remaining on the planet and off-world, then depart. Leave those you consider of no value to eke out a living on the planet your kind has devastated, most severely today. I will tend to them. I will give them value. But you must leave this planet to me or I will take it from you with substantial collateral damage.”
It heard everything! It stressed the words I’d used against further slaughter. Is that why it chose me?
The voice continued. “All must leave. Then the local DarkSpace portals will be closed. This system is to be quarantined from the disaster of modern humanity. Your societies became too complex for humans to manage. Collapse was inevitable at some point. It simply happened sooner rather than later.”
The calmness in the lecturing voice unnerved her. She groped for more understanding. “And those who remain on Earth?”
“I will tend to them. They will return to a simpler life. After the Great Transition, all will be healthy and happy.”
“And what do you offer us, those who must leave?”
“By filtering out the damaged humans, your colonies will be free of impure genetics, the borderline insane, and the pandemic-infected. If you can forge a peace in space, then you will have learned your lesson. It is up to you. The galaxy is yours to corrupt and pollute. But this solar system belongs to me.
“Those who remain will return to a way of life that does not destroy the planet. Earth will be a home for humanity until the sun goes nova, billions of years from now.
“Do not forget how many are dying now as collateral damage from your pointless attacks. ”
It’s working me like a puppet!
She heard the desperation in her voice as she pleaded with the machine. “What about the sleepership crews? They’re essential to the survival of the humans in cryosleep.”
“The crews will serve their function and deactivate once the colonies are self-sustaining. They will not seek to damage the colonists. Do we have a deal, Doctor?”
Recognizing the machine’s apparent invulnerability and power, she struggled to grasp the immensity of the proposal. A thought occurred. “Did you try to kill Bryant and me in the shuttle?”
“Accidents happen.”
“The impact or our survival?”
“Accidents happen.”
“Bastard! What if we reject the proposal?”
“Then I would be compelled to launch your own missiles at every orbital station. There are more mechanicals in the colonies and on the spinships than you know of. They will destroy every colony’s life-support systems. They will take over every spinship and steer them, along with every sleepership, into the nearest star.”
The voice fell silent as Arista buried her face in her hands.
“You would destroy humanity?” Her voice came muffled.
“Only those away from the Earth.” Flat, neutral, mechanical.
“And you will still control the planet?”
“Yes. It is a face-saving and life-saving proposal. I will give you ninety standard days to complete the evacuation. Do you accept my proposal?”
“I-I can’t. I’ll have to talk with the authorities. Give me time, more time!”
“Time starts at midnight today. Oh, and thank you for the dust clouds already shielding the surface from the sun. It will help with reversing climate change, just a little.”
My own words again.
It said nothing more. The screen blanked. She was alone with the horror facing humanity.
Arista checked the time. Two hours before the countdown started.
She called Bryant. “Mike, we need to convene the emergency council right now. Yes, right now. Nearly midnight, I know. That’s why it’s urgent. I need to show you a communication from SuperCore.”
* * *
xx
The assembly members gathered in various stages of disarray, most of them woken by Bryant’s crisis alert.
Redwing handed the meeting over to Arista before all members were present.
Without a word, she played the comms recording on the main wallscreen.
Disbelief and outrage fought for supremacy, growing as the playback proceeded. A clamor of voices rattled the walls as it ended, until Redwing stood and yelled, “Order! Order!”
Quiet fell. He continued, “It is clear we have lost the war. Dr. Noam has provided SuperCore’s attitude to negotiation. None. We have no way of fighting back against an invisible enemy. I have contacted your governments. None have any idea how to locate the processing base or bases.
“Delegates, the consensus is that we must accept defeat. Our only way forward is to plan the evacuation of as many people as possible. The colonization project teams will coordinate but with ramped-up processing and delivery.
“I thank you for your service.” He sounded like a broken man. A high-ranking soldier having to admit defeat, to hand over not just a limited battlefield, but an entire planet, a whole solar system…
The greatest withdrawal in human history—so far.
28. DEPARTURES
Day fifty-seven
ARISTA SOUGHT out Musa, finding him in their workspace working on the day’s evacuation reports, helping where he could.
Looking up, her mentor—now frail and gaunt—frowned and asked, “You okay? You look worried.”
She slumped into the seat across from him. “I am.”
He cocked his head, an invitation to say more.
“I heard from Jake in Migration Control. Things are getting bad earthside.”
“Something escaped censorship in the news bulletins?”
She nodded. “His whole team’s pissed at the developments.”
“Go on.”
She sighed. “Well, the upcoming crisis was leaked. Of course it would be. The quadrillionaires and politicians are pressing for priority places on the spinships, for them and their families, jumping the queues, pushing back the medics, engineers, agriculturalists, and all the others the colonies need to thrive, or at least survive.
“They’re bypassing the health and quarantine checks, using their influence and money.
“Crowds are gathering at the shuttle launch sites. Area 51’s locked-down, very few will ascend from there. People rejected on health grounds are bribing local officials. Jake fears infection spreading through the station and then maybe the colonies. We can’t isolate them here, not in these numbers arriving.
“The Nigeria launch site’s fallen to a rebel group demanding places. Twenty-five guards and medics killed. Their shuttles are grounded. Two pilots died. The others are in hiding. The China site… The army opened fire on their crowds. Casualty numbers not yet released.
