John Moralee - Future Imperfect - A Collection of Science Fiction Stories

Two humans appeared on the 3D map. One was in the command room. The other was in a female locker room on Level 3.

Dawkins had gone where she had said, but could he really trust her? They had gone through basic training at the same time. For a couple of months they had been together. It had been getting serious. He had even met her parents. Unfortunately, their romance broken up by the outbreak of the invasion in 2064. He had loved Dawkins, but their relationship had been the first casualty in the war, as they had been assigned to different bases on different continents.

Anson ran a complete security check and instructed the nanoforge on the bottom level to make some new drones to replace the destroyed ones. It had enough raw matter to keep the bunker in ammo for about six months. No Ripplers were going to get through his defences. Not while he was in command. He’d been on duty for sixteen hours without a break. When he saw Dawkins leaving the locker room, he decided to join her in the mess for that debrief.

Dawkins was dressed in clean fatigues, her wet hair shining like fire as she sat eating at a table. Anson grabbed a tray and a meal served by the kitchen bot. The meat on his plate tasted like steak, though it had never seen the inside of a cow. He watched Dawkins wolfing down her ‘steak’ and potatoes with a light beer. She burped and tapped her belly.

“Hell. That’s good. I haven’t eaten real food in a week.”

“Beats c-rations, huh?”

“A dead dog beats c-rations.”

“So … what happened out there?”

Dawkins’ blue eyes looked weary. “We found a Rippler factory sixty klicks over the mountains. We had orders to blow it up – after stealing the designs for making our own Ripplers. Kerry and Lambert went in covertly. They hacked the network and downloaded all the schematics for creating Ripplers onto a hard drive. All we had to do then was destroy the base to cripple their operations – but someone screwed up, setting off an alarm. We were attacked by a swarm of Ripplers. They tore my squad to pieces. Lambert died right in front of me. I got away on a hell-bike with the hard drive – but the Ripplers chased me. I only lost them by ditching my ride under a bridge. I had enough suit power to go into stealth mode until I was almost here. I ran out of juice about three klicks away. I really didn’t think I’d make it this far. I’m sorry I brought trouble to your door.”

“What happened to the hard drive?”

“I hid it in case I got captured. I didn’t want the whole mission to be a waste. It’s out in the desert, hidden. I need to get the GPS coordinates to HQ so they can pick it up. That hard drive can change the war, Anson.” She sipped her beer. “The bad news is I’m afraid we’re in major trouble. The enemy will do anything to get that hard drive. They’ll come for me with more than just one Rippler.”

“Tell me the coordinates of the hard drive.”

She shook her head. “It’s safer for you if you don’t know them. I’ll give you the coordinates when you get a signal to HQ. Could you send a drone to contact someone at HQ?”

“Too short a range,” he said. “Besides, a Rippler would take it out. They’ve been hazing my position all day. They must have suspected you’d come this way.”

“Yeah. They’ve got good intel. They probably interrogated one of my team after killing them. They have the tech to scan dead brains. The sons of bitches.” Dawkins clenched her fists. “They’re going to come for me soon. If they breach the bunker, you’ll have to do me a big favour, Anson.”

“What?”

“You’ll have to kill me.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I’m not. I’m the only person with the hard drive’s coordinates. They want it – that’s why they haven’t just blasted me with a missile. The hard drive will still be out there if they kill me. Someone on our side could eventually find it. They don’t want to take that risk. They need me to tell them where it is – so you’ve got to kill me if they get in here. Promise me you’ll do it. I can’t kill myself. Promise me, Anson.”

“You want me to promise to kill you?”

“Yes. It would have to be a head shot to prevent them trawling my mind after I’m dead. Will you do that if it comes to it?”

“If it comes to it. But it won’t. This bunker was designed to hold off a battalion. They could drop a nuke – but it wouldn’t get to us. We’re safe here as long as the drones are in operation. We can stay here until the cavalry show up.”

“News flash. HQ won’t sent in anyone into a designated hot zone. We’re on our own. Unless we can get a signal out. Can you think of a way to repair the hard line?”

“No,” he said, feeling useless. “I don’t even know how it was taken out.”

“Think of something.”

“I will. Just give me time.”

“We don’t have much time, Anson. They’ll be working out a way of busting in here right now.”

“Nothing can get through ten metres of hyper-dense crystal wall. It’s the hardest substance known.”

“They’ll find a way.”

“Listen. You look exhausted. Get some rest.”

“I can’t rest.”

“You need it. That’s an order, soldier.”

“What about you?” she said. “How long have you been awake?”

“Too long,” he admitted. “But I’ve still got things to do. I’ve got to figure out a way to contact HQ.”

The only way to get a signal out was to either jury-rig a signal booster that could reach a satellite or get outside the zone affected by the crimson haze. Going outside was a suicide mission – so that left boosting the signal from inside the bunker. Anson took an inventory. Maybe he could use a series of drones as a sort of array to boost the signal though the haze? He ran a simulation. It looked like it would work if he had about a hundred signal boosters – but he would have to make them in the nanoforge. And then he would have to get them in the air long enough to send a signal without the Ripplers destroyed them. He set to work, ordering the nanoforge to start manufacturing. The production run would take 48 hours. Could he hold out for that long?

That afternoon the enemy dropped a cloud of crimson haze so thick Anson’s drones could not see beyond five metres. It was like a red fog had descended over the bunker – a pea-souper of electronic jammers. The fog prevented the enemy seeing his drones – but he had no idea what was going on out there. He tried sending some drones above it – but they never made it. They suddenly stopped communicating like they’d been blasted out of the sky. He instructed his remaining drones to hover inside the crimson haze, watching for the enemy.

During the next few hours nothing happened.

It got dark outside.

Near midnight a dozen ripples appeared on the radar screens – then disappeared. He could detect nothing – but he knew they were sneaking nearer and nearer. Then – without warning – he lost all of his drones at once. He also lost his passive visual feeds.

“What the hell?”

The next moment, the proximity alarms signified something worse. There were enemy on the ground – right outside the hatch.

Anson swore. He put on his armour and sounded the alarm. He could see Dawkins on a monitor waking up.

“Wake up, Dawkins.”

She looked up at her own monitor. “What’s happening?”

“I’ve lost external surveillance. They’ve landed.”

“Our drones?”

“Not communicating. I think they’ve been destroyed.”

“How?”

“God knows.”

“What do you need me to do?”

“Get to the armoury. I’ll meet you there.”

“Right!”

The bunker was designed to be an impregnable fortress – but there had not been a castle built that could withstand a smart and determined enemy. As Anson ran along the corridors, he feared the hatch would be ripped open at any second, letting in a whole horde of soldiers. He was reminded of a movie he had watched with his dad when he was just a kid of seven or eight. Star Wars. It had been a really old movie – but one scene at the beginning had stuck with him, the first time he saw Darth Vader. Vader had appeared through a hole blasted in a wall. It had scared the hell out of him. Outside, right now, Anson knew there were a whole load of Darth Vaders in combat gear that made Vader’s shiny black armour look like a summer dress. His T17 assault rifle wasn’t going to cut it against that opposition. He needed a bigger and more powerful weapon. When Anson reached the armoury, Dawkins was already there, waiting for him to open the door. He typed in the code. The door opened into a white room filled with new weapons and ammo.