I Am Automaton: A Military Science Fiction Novel (32 page)

“Go ahead. Call the ID containment facility.”

“What? What are you talking about now?”

“I said call the ID containment facility.”

“I’m through wasting my time…”

Just
then, the Major’s phone rang. He ignored it and pressed the button for his secretary. “Mary…”

“Yes, Major.”

“Have two MP’s sent to my office immediately.”

“What about the Third Hangar?”

Lewis’ face turned white. That was what they called the ID containment facility. “What about the Third Hangar, Mary?”

“They’ve been trying to contact you. Apparently they’re having some difficulty with some of the cargo in storage.”

Major Lewis gawked at Carl incredulously. Carl just sat there looking self-satisfied.

“Sir?”

“Yes, Mary.”

“You still want me to get two MP’s?”

He sized Carl up with wide eyes. “No. No, Mary. Cancel that.”

He
terminated the call. His phone rang again. He picked up. “Hello?...Yes…calm down…they’re what?...did you hit the master AI kill switch…you did…seal the area and evacuate immediately.”

He terminated the call. “I don’t know how you’re doing this, but make it stop, Birdsall.”

“Oh, Major, I can make it start or stop at any time.”

“There are innocent people
…”

“Oh, save it. They’re in no danger.
You, on the other hand…if I were you, I’d listen to me very closely. Your life just might depend upon it.”

Major Lewis swallowed hard. He looked as if he was about to be ill. “I’m listening.”

“Because of you, my brother was killed, his whole platoon wiped out for the second time. But, I’m willing to overlook it for now.”

“Wh-what do you want?”

“I want the program to remain open.”

“Why? What are you playing at?”

“Because lucky for you, I need you. I still have a bone to pick with these terrorists…and the drug cartels. I need you to let me lead the program. It’s the only way.”

“How?”

“How what?”

“How do you…control them?”

“With all due respect, Major, that’s none of your concern right now. I want you to focus. This is very important.”

Major Lewis was completely taken off guard. He was taken off guard by the apparent veracity of this young man’s story.
More importantly, he was taken off guard by his cold, calculating confidence and negotiation with a superior officer.

“This program is very important, and it needs to continue. We are on the cusp of turning the tables on these bastards. I want to take the fight to them. I want to hunt them down in their own caves and smite them from the face of the earth. It is now my sole purpose.”

“And what about me?” Lewis couldn’t believe he was at the mercy of some little grunt private.

“Believe me, Major, I’d like nothing better than to kill
you, but it won’t bring my brother or any of the other men back. I need you because I have bigger fish to fry. But I wouldn’t expect you to understand sacrifice.”

It was true. This measly administrator no longer knew the pangs of sacrifice. He’d gone soft from sitting behind a desk, and in his
decadence, his morality had decayed. He had been swayed by greed into conspiring with scoundrels, the very enemy he was sworn to hunt in the name of freedom.

However,
Carl understood sacrifice. His brother Peter understood sacrifice. Barnes and Munger and Smithe all understood sacrifice. There was a greater good at stake, and an opportunity to pursue the elusive enemies of liberty to the bitter end.

“Firstly, I am not a
Private. In the field, as the sole survivor of the Xcaret mission, I have been promoted to First Lieutenant.”

“Yes…yes, I suppose that can be arranged.”

“It has already happened. Second, I am to be shortly promoted to Captain.”

“But
…”

“Captain, for valor. Thirdly, we rebuild the program with a new team. And then we go to Afghanistan and get these bastards where they live.”

“It took time to scout those men…”

“I have a list of men, from my experience in Basic Training. They’re good men, and we’ve already functioned as a team, so I expect the learning curve to be brief.”

“I-I—”

“And if at any time I get the sense that you are having second thoughts about our little arrangement, you will be paid a visit from some of our ID. Do you know what it feels like to be eaten alive, Major?”

Lewis just gaped at Carl. There was no response he could give other than a nod.

“Good, so we have an accord.”

“Wh-what about the ID in the containment facility?”

“Oh, them? They’ve already stopped.”

Major Lewis’ phone rang.

“You take that call. It’ll be the men at the containment facility telling you what I just did—the ID are immobilized again. I expect to see those transfers within the week so we can begin training exercises. The future of American lives and freedom are depending on you, Major. This is your chance to do something right.”

Carl stood up and saluted the Major, who flummoxed, returned a limp salute. Carl smiled and left the Major’s office.

***

In the week that followed, Carl assembled his platoon, which was largely composed of his mates from Basic Training—Mendoza, Koontz, Kettle, Cartieras, Fromm, and even Cronos.

It was like old times, only Carl was the CO and they were wrangling zombies. Carl preserved the Labyrinth hazing, putting each unsuspecting man in there with an ID. Lieutenant Farrow stood nervously by with his finger over the AI kill switch, but thanks to Carl’s newfound
talent, it was completely unnecessary.

Once they began the training exercises of release, infiltration, target neutralization, and extraction
, everything went like clockwork. The men already had a rapport and worked well together, and Carl’s uncanny control over the ID made everything run that much more smoothly.

There were no humpers, none of the ID got out of hand and attacked any of the men, and Carl often found himself inside the funnel of the reverse
Vee formation amongst the ID, their fearless leader and fellow automaton.

Carl’s new gift frightened the men, and it cultivated a mystique around him that induced immediate respect. The man was a machine, driven in the exercises, and one only wondered how any terrorists would stand a chance in an actual combat scenario.

Carl was intense, totally without fear, and unrelenting. His platoon became a formidable force in a short period of time, and he counted the days until deployment to Afghanistan.

In the
meantime, Major Lewis kept his end of the one-sided bargain, promoting Carl to the rank of Captain. He nervously granted whatever Carl asked for and was reluctantly impressed by what Carl had done with his platoon in such a brief period of time.

During it all,
Carl attended sessions with Captain London. She, too, was impressed with his accomplishments, but she was also concerned with his singular focus on the program.

“You know, you’re different than your brother.”

“Easy, Fiona. Let’s not disrespect the dead.”

“Oh, by no means. Peter was a great man, a hero. Just an observation.”

He smiled at her sincerity. “Go on.”

“Peter also suffered a great deal of loss. He
, too, was an only survivor.”

“Yeah, so?”

“Well, he was suffering with conflicting emotions. He was riddled with guilt. We call it ‘survivor’s guilt.’”

“Yes, I know what survivor’s guilt is.”

“But you, Carl, on the other hand, seem to have closed off all your emotions. With Peter, we were concerned about his sense of vengeance clouding his judgment. But you don’t even want revenge.”

“And this is a problem how?”

“It’s a problem because it is unnatural not to feel sadness or loss.”

“I did, at first, but…a switch inside me flipped. It’s not a defense mechanism, Fiona. Something’s changed.”

“What’s changed, Carl? Explain it to me.”

“I’m not repressing emotion. It’s just not practical now. I have no one, which I think makes me the perfect weapon. I have nothing to lose. My entire purpose is to devote myself to hunting terrorists.”

“But that’s not healthy.”

“What’s healthy, Fiona? Am I supposed to cry myself to sleep every night? Do you want me to wash out due to mental instability?”

“I fear you’ve been traumatized beyond what your defenses can handle.”

“Don’t you see? Fiona, I’ve been set free. We are at war with an adversary who doesn’t fear death, who has no regard for their own lives. We’ve never been able to combat that, or even fathom it for that matter. But I do now.”

“You almost sound suicidal.”

“I am suicidal like any soldier who goes into combat knowing full well that there’s a good chance
he’s not coming back. I don’t want to die, but I don’t fear it either. Believe me, I want to stick around to hunt every last terrorist until I take my last breath.”

Fiona wanted to change the subject for the moment. “What about this…ability of yours?”

“What about it?”

“They tell me it’s like you control the ID, and they follow your every command.”

“It’s not
like
, Fiona, I really do.”

“But how? How does it work?”

Carl sighed and looked down at his hands on his knees for a moment, as if searching for the right answer. “To tell you the truth, I don’t know. I just can.”

“But it’s impossible.”

“Really? Because I’m doing it. If you don’t believe me you should come down to our exercises and observe some time. Or if you’d like, I could summon some ID up to your office for a demonstration.”

Captain London squirmed in her seat. “No, that won’t be necessary. I just want to know how.”

“How? That’s like asking someone how they reach out for a cup of coffee or pick up a pen to write their name. They just do it, they don’t know how.”

“Some think it’s because of the trauma you’ve experienced, all of the loss.”

“Other soldiers have experienced loss.”

“True, but then you talk about something snapping inside of you…”

“I never used the word
snapped
. That word implies that I have gone crazy. But on the contrary, I feel saner than I ever have in my life.”

“I don’t know if I’d call what you’re experiencing sane, Carl.”

“What is sane, Doc?
Normal
people walk around oblivious to the horrors of life. They buy houses with picket fences, go to their little jobs, and attend dinner parties. But when the harsh realities of this world intrude on their delicate little fantasies, their ‘assumptive world,’ as you shrinks would call it, is shaken. Then insecurity, paranoia, and fear creep in.”

“What are you trying to say, Carl? That you’re better than all of those people?”

“Not better. Just free. I know the horrors of evil. I’ve experienced pain and loss. But emotions like fear and sadness only make you succumb to terror.”

“So you’ve turned off your fear?”

“How does a tightrope walker in the circus walk the tightrope? He turns off the fear. How about in the early 1900’s, those pictures you see of men walking on steel girders stories up in the air with no safety harnesses. In those situations, fear is not practical. Come on, Fiona, what about Victory Tower?”

“In Basic Training?”

“Exactly. Surely, you remember Victory Tower. I don’t think anyone forgets it. You swallow your fear and run the course. That’s the purpose, right?”

“I guess.”

“Listen. Just because you don’t understand my state of mind does not make it dysfunctional.”

Fiona hesitated. She was waiting for the right moment to bring it up, but time was running out. “Carl, I’d like you to submit to some brain imaging. MRI’s of your brain.”

“Sure, I’ll do whatever you want. I don’t know what you expect to find though.”

She was surprised and relieved. “Thank you. I just want to make sure that this new ability of yours isn’t something detrimental to your health.”

“Do what you think is right, Doc. I won’t fight you.”

“And before you go, I wanted to briefly discuss your father.”

Carl pretended to look at his watch. “Boy, I’m really getting a bang for my buck this session. You’re not going to charge me double, are you?”

Captain London glared at him.

“Okay, okay. What about my father?”

“You said before that you had nothing left. But you still have your father. I want you to go home for a few days, and reconnect. See how he’s doing.”

“I don’t think now’s the best time. We’re almost functional, and…”