Bunker Ten, page 6
part #1 of Dark Scotland Series
That got their attention.
“I’m sending you into a virtual combat simulation, but this one is different from any that has been created before.” He pursed his lips, choosing his words carefully. “You’re going to be immersed in it for hours and it will be more real than anything you’ve ever experienced. Sherman here is used to odd simulations and he’ll be leading you.”
“What’s our brief?” Darren asked. He had a high quivery voice that matched his meek demeanour.
“Break into a hostile military base and penetrate its lowest level.”
“Typical game scenario, just in reverse,” Darren said approvingly, looking at his notes. “Difficult though. There are watchtowers back and front and you have to get past a perimeter fence and mounted lasers just to get near the place. The lasers are tiny but they’ve got massive firepower and an enormous range, which makes them almost impossible to take out.”
“Is there a blind spot where we can cut through the fences?”
“No need.” The Colonel said curtly. “The lasers will be off, I’ll give you the code for the gate and the guards will be elsewhere.”
Nulce gave a small snort.
“You have a problem Mr Nulce?”
“That’s not much of a challenge.” Nulce had an American accent, but Sherman couldn’t place it.
“I’m not interested in the more mundane parts of the simulation,” the Colonel continued. “The problem we have is with its integral workings.”
“Sir.” Darren looked puzzled. “Exactly what is wrong?”
“It’s radically different from any designed before.” The Colonel said. “In fact we went further than we could ever have dreamed.” He put his hands together and looked at his team over the tops of his fingers.
“We’ve learned how to create characters in the simulation that can actually evolve. They act in ways that aren’t in their programming.”
“Holy hell,” Darren breathed. “That is different. I didn’t think it was even achievable.”
“It wasn’t,” the Colonel said, faintly proud. “Until now.”
“This simulation must be worth a huge amount of money,” Darren’s mind was fairly reeling with the possibilities. “Not just to the army but to big business. It has massive marketable applications for all sorts of non-military industries.”
“I’m well aware of that,” the Colonel said. “Where to you think we got most of our funding?”
“How many characters are able to act independently?” Sherman broke in.
“Seven of them. All kids.”
“Sorry to have so many questions sir,” Darren spoke up again. “But why?”
“This type of simulation was to be the ultimate test for soldiers.” The Colonel stroked his chin, pondering the best way to drop his bombshell. “Each child’s personality is based on that of a military dictator from the past. Stalin, Hitler, Pol Pot that kind of thing. Even the girls. And their IQ has been upped to genius level.”
“And they can really operate outside their programming parameters?” Darren persisted.
“They can.”
“Can I venture a guess at their purpose?”
“Be my guest.”
“These characters are supposed to learn and grow inside the simulation, aren’t they?”
“They are. The programme runs continuously.”
“If they evolve into adults, they’ll be the ultimate adversaries in combat simulations. Super intelligent, utterly ruthless and totally unpredictable. That’s brilliant!”
“So what’s the problem?” Madrid spoke for the first time. Her voice was hard and husky and her manner straight to the point.
“One of the ‘characters’ is a child called May-Rose.” The Colonel held up a photograph of a pretty Asian girl with long dark hair. She was standing in front of a seafront scene, holding an ice cream.
“I’m not sure what happened really,” he said looking wistfully at the girl. “Don’t know if there was a weird short circuit or a programming anomaly.”
The team were listening intently now, intrigued and disturbed in equal measure. Everyone who had worked with him knew the Colonel was no fool. It wasn’t like him to admit uncertainty.
“Anyhoo. Whatever happened, May-Rose seems to knows she’s a computer programme.”
“Say what!!!?” Nulce exploded.
“Pardon me sir,” Darren said politely. “Are you sure?”
“Pretty sure. She’s turning the simulation into chaos, to the extent that we’re no longer in charge of it. We can’t control the damned thing or alter her programme. Worst of all, we can’t shut the simulation down.”
“She’s overriding systems?” Darren drew in a sharp breath.
“I’m not Jimmy Neutron,” Sherman said. “But this all sounds very sinister.”
“It’s downright terrifying,” Darren said quietly. “If she’s really self-aware, she may be trying to get out.”
“Eh? What’s she… I mean it, gonna do?” Nulce scoffed. “Leap outta the screen and take off down the corridor?”
“The simulation is run by a computer and that computer will be part of a computer system,” Darren said. “Am I right, Sir?”
The Colonel signalled an affirmative.
“Which means she can potentially access those other systems.” Darren shot Nulce a look of scorn. “How do you think computer viruses spread?” He paused to let what he was saying sink in. “Imagine what a virus that could actually think would be capable of? Do you realise what it could do if it got onto the internet?”
Madrid was staring at her commander.
“What have you done, Colonel?” she said coldly.
“We can’t shut the simulation down but the mainframe computer has a built in failsafe,” the officer retorted. “If it looks like any rogue programme is in danger of subverting it, the computer starts a countdown to delete the whole thing.”
“Which is an excellent precaution,” Darren looked alarmed. “In fact, I suggest you shut this one down right now. Just pull the plug on it.”
“Oh, I don’t think the Colonel would want that,” Sherman commented dryly. “A lot of money and research down the drain, eh?”
“It would be an enormous amount.” The Colonel agreed. “Look. All we need is a sample of this character’s programme code to continue our research. Problem is, we can’t get at it from the outside any more.” He permitted himself a wry smile. “That’s why you’re going into the simulation.”
“How do we get a sample that way?” Sherman sounded puzzled.
“May-Rose is a programme,” Darren tried to explain. “But in the simulation she’s operating as a human. So we need a sample of her.”
“What? Like an arm?”
“Blood. Saliva. Anything with genetic material.” Darren shrugged. “That’s all we’d need to build another model of her. Like you could build a clone of someone from a string of their DNA. Back in the real world, it could be translated into computer code again, under much stricter supervision.”
“God, I hate technology,” Sherman muttered.
“Fortunately it will be easier than that,” The Colonel said. “There are ‘samples’ of all the character programmes in the bottom level of the simulation – its database if you like. The one you’re looking for is labelled MR12. Your task is to find it and bring it back, overcoming resistance with deadly force.”
Nulce gave a broad smile.
“Near the perimeter fence of the base is an abandoned well. Put the sample in a lead container we’ll provide you with and drop it there. The well is a conduit point to transfer information in and out of the simulation, so I can retrieve the data. That’s your objective. Complete it successfully and I bring you out.”
The Colonel put his hands behind his back. “Any questions?”
“What if we encounter these ‘children’?” Nulce asked. “Do we kill them too?”
“Negative.” The Colonel shook his head. “You’ll need their help to navigate to the bottom level.”
“Need help from a bunch of kids?” Nulce gave a nasty laugh.
“It says here their characters aren’t even combat trained.” Sherman looked at his notes again. “None of them are over fifteen.”
The Colonel slammed a fist down on the table. Darren started, looking quickly up from the folder.
“Do NOT underestimate the flexibility of these programmes,” the officer warned. “They’re all fledgling psychopaths and they’re a hell of a lot smarter than you. They can’t overcome you with violence so they’ll use their brains. And in that department, you are totally outclassed.”
He looked at each member in turn, tapping the table for emphasis.
“You do NOT believe anything these kids say. You get the sample MR12 but you do NOT get anywhere near May Rose herself, unless you can possibly help it. And you never, EVER let May-Rose talk to you. Not for any reason.”
How do you propose we achieve that, Sir,” Nulce asked. “Shoot her on sight?”
“You’ll all have earpieces like the one Sherman is wearing ” The Colonel replied. “As well as using them to communicate, you can turn them to loud static and drown out any external sound.”
“Mine is custom made ,” Sherman said proudly.
“When do we start?” Madrid said.
“In an hour.”
“Not much of a Christmas Eve,” Darren muttered.
“Yeah. We haven’t had time to sort out a Secret Santa,” Nulce added sarcastically, glancing at his companion.
The Colonel remained silent.
“This is all a bit odd.” Sherman sat back and looked at his superior. “I’ve just met my team. We haven’t had time to go over the information together.”
“With all due respect, Sir,” Madrid broke in. “I agree. I was assigned to this project by Central Command. I’m supposed to assess your progress and report back before any human testing is done.” She looked around at the others. “I’d like a chance to look at the equipment and find out more about the team before we actually go into the simulation. I’ve just arrived after a long flight and I’m tired and hungry.”
“And I have no intention of getting bogged down in red tape.” The Colonel shot Madrid a look of barely suppressed resentment. “While you’re here you operate under my direct command. We go in an hour. You can make your report when your task is completed. I’ll take full responsibility.”
“That could be a career ending decision,” Madrid pointed out.
“I’m willing to take the risk. Just get it done.”
Madrid stared at the Colonel for a few seconds.
“Yes, Sir,” she said finally.
“Look. I know this is very all unusual.” The officer’s voice lightened a little. “But this project is only partially military. It’s heavily financed by private companies who expect a lucrative return on their investment. Those backers would pull any future aid if they knew the way this experiment is turning out.”
The hardness returned to his voice and he looked pointedly at Madrid.
“This is still my project and I’ve no intention of having it taken away from me at the eleventh hour.”
He turned his steely gaze on the others. “To demonstrate just how important this mission is, our private investors are prepared to offer an attractive incentive.”
“I’m a soldier, Colonel.” Madrid said. “All you have to do is order me.”
“The hell with you.” Nulce’s eyes widened. “I’ll do my duty all the better if I think there’s some cash involved.”
The Colonel clasped his hands in front of him and took a deep breath. “If you can successfully retrieve a sample of MR12, each of you will be paid two million pounds. You have my guarantee. In writing if you like”
The silence round the table was palpable. Darren gave a small cough.
“Did you say two million?”
“That’s correct.”
“Now it’s starting to feel like Christmas,” Nulce beamed.
All of them looked at Madrid.
“As you say, I’m under your direct command for the moment,” she told the Colonel. “And I intend to make a full report when this is over.” She gave a little shrug. “I’ll still accept the two mill though.”
“Then get yourself to the Infirmary.” The Colonel beckoned to his team. “They’ll prep you and set you up for entering the simulation. “As they say, time is money. As far as I’m concerned you’re good to go.”
17.15
Cruikshank followed Olly and Doctor Monk out of the elevator and into the corridors of the lowest level. Behind him was Lieutenant Dunwoody, Major Cowper and three armed guards.
“After she was bitten, we put May Rose in an isolation booth.” Monk said. “We have a bio-safety level four lab with an air locked door and decontamination shower next door but, at the time, we didn’t see any need to move her there.” He looked nervously over his shoulder. “She seemed perfectly fine and we didn’t consider there was any risk of infection. The team that went in to examine her were wearing gauze masks and sterile gloves but no biohazard gear.”
“What happened to them?” Dunwoody asked.
Olly and Monk had stopped at a metal door.
“You really think the boy should see this?” Olly remonstrated.
“We don’t have a choice.” The Commander approached a control panel on the wall and punched in a long code. Olly put his hand on Cruickshank’s shoulder.
“This isn’t going to be pleasant, kid,” he whispered. “But you hang in there, OK?”
There was a click as the locking mechanism rolled back and the door slid open.
Cruikshank found himself entering a narrow room. Facing him was a large observation booth with reinforced glass. It reminded him of the monkey house at a zoo, but without the smell.
May-Rose sat on a chair at one end of the booth, staring at the floor. Behind her was a narrow bunk, attached to the wall. She didn’t look up.
At the other end of the booth, four men lay on the floor, surrounded by a vast pool of congealed blood. Their lab coats, once pristine white, were now stiff and dark with gore. Cruikshank felt a thick queasy feeling rise in his stomach and Olly tightened his grip on the boy’s arm.
Dunwoody stepped forward.
“What the hell did she do to these men?” he said. He tried to keep his voice steady but it was obvious that even this hardened soldier was shocked.
“She didn’t do anything.” Olly broke in. “They did it to themselves.”
“What?”
“They killed each other. They were all carrying medical kits. Scalpels, syringes, that kind of thing.”
“Can we talk to her?” Dunwoody looked at the intercom system, set beside the door.
“The intercom is broken and the booth is soundproof.” Major Cowper tapped the glass. May Rose didn’t look up. “But you can talk to the survivor.”
“Survivor?”
“He was outside watching the other men,” said Monk caustically. “That’s why they call it an observation booth.”
“He’s next door.” Olly continued, fumbling awkwardly with his beard. “Does the kid have to come? Hasn’t he seen enough?”
“I like it less than you,” Cowper snarled. “But I suppose we need him.”
“Hey. The kid is standing right next to you.” Cruikshank straightened himself to his full height of five feet. “Remember?”
He looked up at Olly, who avoided his gaze. But Cowper and Monk were staring at him. Cruikshank narrowed his eyes.
“Exactly why am I with you?” He turned and glared at Monk. “Its obvious none of you want me around or think you need my help. So what am I doing here?”
“Since the incident, May Rose hasn’t been able to talk with us,” Monk said. “And we can’t let her out, in case she somehow caused this… mess. But she has managed to communicate one message.” He walked over to the thick glass and thumped loudly on it.
This time May-Rose’s head shot up.
Cruikshank took a step back. May-Rose had dark, oriental eyes and he had always found it hard to tell what she was thinking. Now they were fastened on him and he suddenly didn’t want to know. He really didn’t want to know.
May-Rose stood up. She moved slowly towards the party, never taking her eyes off Cruickshank. She reached the glass and opened her mouth wide. The boy felt the hairs on his neck rise.
May Rose breathed on the glass, five or six times. With one finger she wrote on the foggy surface, inverting the letters so that everyone on the other side could read them.
She stepped back and pointed at the boy. Cruickshank felt his stomach grow cold as he read what she had written.
Want to talk to you.
17.20
Jimmy Hicks sat at his computer console in the dormitory. Beside him lay a tiny walkie-talkie. Diddy Dave had spent the afternoon making one for each of them and they transmitted on low power at a frequency the army didn’t use.
Jimmy picked his up and clicked a button on the top.
“Puddle Pig,” he said quietly. “This is Swamp Rat. Are you in position? Over.”
“Puddle Pig?” Leslie’s voice crackled over the other line. “You talking to me?”
“I thought you should have a code name. Over”
“That’s a pet name, not a code name,” the line fizzled. “I want to be called Black Mambo.”
“At the end of each transmission you’re supposed to say over. Over.”
“I’m supposed to say over over?”
“Not over over. Over. Over.”
Leslie burst into a fit of muted laughter. There was an impatient cough from behind and Dave leaned over Jimmy’s shoulder.
“Aw right, Sergeant Bilko. Enough. Leslie doll? Where are you?”
“I’m round the back of the building. Heading through the bushes and into the trees towards the fence.”
“Roger that good buddy. That’s a big ten four and aw that numpty stuff. Catch ye later. Over an oot.”
He switched off the walkie talkie and handed it to Jimmy.
“Right. Now you do your stuff, man. Ahm dyin tae see you pull this aff.”
Jimmy Hicks took a deep breath, bent over the computer and started typing. In the corridors of Pinewood the tiny receivers Hicks had planted earlier began to process the information he was feeding them and transmit signals to each other.
