Mike Stackpole - Ghost Book Two - The Death Machines

I frowned. “And what would that life be like, exactly? I thought the Base Cochise AI wanted to wipe out all human life.”

“In the new future, man and machine will be one, a perfected being with the strengths of both and the weaknesses of neither. We of the Guardians of the Old Order will be perfected beings, exalted, as will all the chosen — and you and I will be chosen, I promise you. Only those who do not join us will be left behind.”

“And, uh, by “left behind” you mean they’ll be killed.”

“Why should you care what happens to them?” Athalia asked. “You’re not like them. You’ve moved beyond them.”

I stared at her, not sure what to say.

She sobbed. “I don’t understand you, Ghost. Why should you give them any loyalty? You see how they treat you. You’re not human to them. You’re not even real. As far as they’re concerned, you’re just a cheap copy of some other guy. They’re ready to sacrifice you for the least little thing. I love you for you , Ghost. You’re like me, unnatural and uncanny, but still capable of love. And I want to be with you — forever.”

It was a pretty convincing speech, I had to admit. She was right about the others. They’d made it pretty clear I wasn’t one of them and never would be, and I’d always be in the shadow of the guy who’d come before me. I was pretty sure she wasn’t lying about loving me either. And that tugged at me. It hurt not to be loved, and her affection and open arms had been giving me hope for my future. I’d had some pretty good dreams about being together with her once all this was over.

But the Athalia I’d loved wasn’t the one who wanted to wipe out most of the human race. She wasn’t the one that wanted me to turn my back on my past. She wasn’t the one who had lied to me about who she was and what she believed since the moment I’d met her.

I shook my head. “Sorry, Athalia. If I wasn’t me and you weren’t you, it might have worked out, but since we’re both who we are, I’m afraid you’re gonna have to shoot me, ‘cause I’m not going anywhere.”

“But why, Ghost? Why?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s just that humans are still the only people I know, and I’d hate to see ‘em go.”

Her face got cold and she aimed the gun straight at my heart. “Don’t worry. You won’t.”

I raised my gun, hoping against hope to beat her to the draw, but the shot came way before my finger squeezed the trigger, and I staggered back, clutching my chest.

Then I frowned. There was no wound, and no pain. I looked up at Athalia. Had she missed on purpose?

She was sinking to her knees, a surprised look on her face and a red stain spreading across her gray robes. Her gun clattered to the floor. Behind her, Angie stepped into the room, her rifle smoking. Ace came in too. Athalia was still squirming and bleeding between us.

I let out a long held breath. “Nothing like waiting ‘til the last minute, Angie. Damn.”

“I had to see if I needed to shoot one person or two.” She stepped over Athalia and put two more shots in her back.

I turned away. Athalia might have been a psycho who wanted to wipe out the human waste. It was still hard to see her die.

“You need a minute?” asked Angie.

“Nah,” I said, then had to swallow hard. “I–I’m fine.”

Angie returned to the door. “Then come have a look. We got that vault open. Vargas, Thrasher and Hell Razor are on their way.”

I nodded and followed her and Ace back into the corridor, then stopped and took a last look back at Athalia’s body. Her head was turned the other way. I couldn’t see her face. I wanted to shout at her to turn around.

Actually, I just wanted to shout.

Or maybe cry.

Yeah, that.

Angie stood inside the titanium door, pointing to a pried up floor tile under which was a dismantled pressure plate, TNT, batteries, and wiring. “I think that’s the only one, but be careful.”

I stepped past the booby trap, then stared. What she and Ace had opened up was an armory the likes of which I’d never seen before. There were racks of standard issue AK–97s, but beyond them I saw rows of lightweight laser rifles, all sleek plastic and glass, and bins full of power packs shaped to fit neatly into a slot in the rifles’ stocks just behind their triggers.

As I was checking out the goodies, I saw a trickle of silver metal running from a black circle burned in the far wall. It looked like Angie and Ace had been seeing what the guns could do.

I looked back at them. “How many shots did that take?”

Ace smirked and patted the plastic rifle he was slinging over his shoulder. “Just the one.”

“Damn.”

I moved deeper into the armory and pulled out a heavier weapon with a fatter barrel, but the same basic design. The serial number scratched on the trigger guard had a very low number, prefaced by XMC–98.

I hefted it. It felt good. “What is this?”

“I didn’t try it,” said Angie. “But with that designation, I’d guess it’s an experimental meson cannon.”

As I was giving the big beast a once over, Vargas, Hell Razor, and Thrasher squeezed into the narrow room.

Angie gave them a wave. “Heya, boys. Come on in and pick your new favorite weapons.”

Thrasher’s eyes lit up. Hell Razor cackled like a mad man.

“Ho–Lee–Shit!”

Vargas picked up one of the rifles and shook his head. “Well, I’m glad they didn’t use these on us, but I don’t get it. Why shoot at us with second hand zip–guns when they had stuff like this in storage?”

“Too holy to use?” said Angie.

Vargas nodded. “That’s the whole and entire problem with these assholes. They got stuff in here that could save the world I bet, but instead of usin’ all that goodness to help their fellow humans, they’re siding with a supercomputer that’s decided humans are roaches who need exterminating.”

“I guess that doesn’t include them?” said Ace.

“They get to become some kind of human–robot angels in a golden future,” I said. ““Perfected beings with the strengths of both and the weaknesses of neither.”“

Everybody looked at me funny. I shrugged. “That’s what Athalia told me.”

“Is that what’s really going to happen?” asked Vargas. “Or is that just what the computer told ‘em what was gonna happen?”

Hell Razor curled his lip. “Neither is gonna happen. If anybody gets a golden future, it ain’t gonna be these homicidal hypocrite hoarders. Fuck that. Let’s burn ‘em down.”

And with that, everybody armed up and headed deeper into the citadel to finish what we started.

I suppose the others killed the Guardians out of righteous fury for their crimes, and I suppose in other circumstances I probably would have too. They were, after all, undeniably a bunch of heinous jerks who were out to destroy life as we knew it, but at that moment I really wouldn’t have cared if they had been saintly grandmothers who healed puppies and wanted to share the cure for cancer with the whole world. I probably still would have gunned them down.

I know I’d told Angie I was fine with Athalia’s death, and I know I hadn’t shed any tears about it. But I was not fine. I was about as far from fine as a man could get.

Athalia deserved what she’d got. She’d lied to me. She was crazy. She was the enemy, for fuck’s sake. That didn’t stop me from realizing she was also probably the only person in the world who would ever want anything to do with me. It didn’t stop me from realizing that once again, there was no golden future for me, and that once again I had nothing and no–one to live for. It made me mad. It made me want everyone else in the world to feel the same way I did.