Machine God: A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller (14 page)

“I don’t want to push you into a decision, but our group has to return to our transporter before the Technoid backup shows up. They’ll freak out when they find out what we did to their recon squad. And this time, they won’t be taking any more prisoners.”

The survivors glanced at me with blank faces. I could tell they were still on the cusp. 

Those fighters had been through a lot. 

Seen hell and back. 

Nathan swallowed hard.

“We’re coming with you.”

In the left corner of my eyes, I noticed Hecto’s eyes bulging out. He surely didn’t expect this response, to be frank, neither did I.

“I think you've made the right choice for your people.”

“I hope so,” Nathan said and followed us outside with his survivors. 

We all pushed the last ounce of strength into our legs and sprinted back to the APC. It was still parked in the ruin behind the wall of our RV point. The two soldiers who stood guard mustered our group.

“What happened to you?”

“No time to talk, we head back to HQ,” I said, feeling like a squad leader of a sudden. The soldiers turned to Hecto, probably looking for authorization. 

“The rookie’s right. We’ll motor.”

Shortly afterwards, our extra APC showed up and opened its hatch. Enough space for twenty survivors. 

All was working according to plan, finally. 

One soldier nodded and assumed control of the driver’s seat. Opened the hatch and started the engines. Hecto carried Ceedee inside. I ushered the survivors into the new APC. Darwin and Glitch caught up last. The tech fan grinned from ear to ear as he watched me strapping myself to the seats.

“Someone’s acting all alpha.”

“I’m just doing what’s required of me.”

“I think you’re doing wayyy more.”

I ignored his playful tone and closed the hatch from the inside. 

Hit the hull and said,

“Let’s roll.”

The vibration shook up the ground. I sat down inside the packed interior and finally noticed the wound in my ribcage. Glitch passed a medpack around till it landed on my lap.

“A pill to avoid an infection.”

I popped open the package, downed the pill and said thanks.

Despite the exhaustion and the pain of the wound, elation spread through my limbs. I had finished my first operation and took down a skyscraper infested with Technoids. 

Almost single-handedly. 

Even better, I saved dozens of lives and persuaded them to join our cluster.

Not bad for a rookie, eh?

Unfortunately, no one seemed to share my good deed.

When the two APCs returned to the hangar after the hour-long ride, the one and only Chief Orden marched out the entrance gate, followed by her usual entourage of armored soldiers. She observed the survivors stepping out the second APC’s rear, glanced at her datapad and pierced my eyes.

“You’re under arrest.”

39

My first reaction was to burst out in laughter. This moment seemed so absurd, my emotions didn’t know how to cope with it. I thought Orden joked, but a steel pillar with titanium had a higher chance of cracking up than the queen of iron faces.

“Why?”

She kept her poker face. Two guards approached me, auto-chained my hands and pushed me toward the elevator. One last glance around, I saw my team members and the brunette survivor staring back at me. Everyone put on a disturbed face, everyone but Hecto. 

“Move,” the soldier to my right said as he pushed me.

“I got it.”

Back in the elevator, I took the ride up and returned to my loathed cell. Before the guards left through the slide door, I roared my voice.

“Would you mind telling me why I’m under arrest?”

Nope, not even a muffled grunt through their face shields. The door slid down, I was left alone.

I couldn’t believe it. 

So I stood on the spot and tried to bring sense into this moment. The silence cooked up my anger. 

I wanted answers, and I wanted them now.

“Konforma? Are you there?”

Of course she was.

Linked to the camera above, watching my every move. 

After a ten second delay that seemed to last a minute, her 2D avatar pixelated on the opposite cell wall.

Her trademark girly look coupled with the military uniform shone in hyper resolution. 

“Why am I under arrest?”

“You don’t have the permission to ask that question.”

“I don’t—“

She wouldn’t even let me finish the sentence.

“Your current standing is frozen. All your rights have been revoked.”

The absurdity continued. My mouth mumbled out some of her words. They felt foreign on my tongue.

“All my rights…?”

“Contact with me is reduced to a minimum. I will remain on standby and return when your verdict has been made. Until then, please handle your energies with care. Even a criminal must deal responsibly with our resources."

Verdict? Criminal?

Every new sentence from her artificial bubblegum mouth sent another shiver through my bones. Here I was, believing I just finished the operation like an elite, and I faced a prison sentence. Probably the harshest day of my short life so far.

Wake me up from this nightmare.

Wake me up now.

Please.

I sat down and remembered how to breathe. Konforma vanished from the screen and turned into the ugly steel plates I’ve come to hate. A thousand thoughts rocketed through my mind, one more fear-mongering than the other. Since over-worrying didn’t lead to answers, I called it a day and spread my limbs on the bunk bed. The second I lay down, an electro-shock jerked from below and threw me from the bed. 

No way.

I was back on square one.

40

The pain.

Scratched at my wound and at my conscience. I didn’t know what infuriated me more, the likelihood to die from my injury, or the injustice done to me. 

Seriously.

I led my team, fought against metal heads and freed over twenty survivors, and the ‘glorious’ Bulwark Cluster thanked me with a slow death in the cell.

These imbeciles needed to get their ranking system in order.

But now...

The pain.

Burned through my ribcage and colored my uniform in crimson. I strove my finger past the blood and licked it off the finger tip—it tasted like the cold metal underneath my back. 

Was that how I'd die?

Damn.

From the ruins to the cell, welcome to the short life of the unknown stranger.

What a pathetic period.

What—

“Do you enjoy talking to yourself?”

The iron lady herself showed up in my cell and looked down at me. Her facial expression was as varied as the monotone pattern of my prison walls. 

Hey, at least she was paying attention to me. 

“You’re still alive,” she said matter-of-factly.

“I’m like one of those desert rats. Blast me up and I’m still roaring over the dunes. Rad little rat.”

“You surely smell like one.”

I suppressed my desire to shoot up and punch her in the face. With her chief ranking, she probably enjoyed premium treatment, always stayed within the safe walls of the Bulwark Cluster and avoided the mission terror. 

And still acted as if she owned the planet.

And me.

Orden watched me scraping at my wound with partial interest.

“I wouldn’t do that if I was you.”

“You know, with the wall-screen turned off, I have to look for other means to entertain myself.”

“When your desire to crack out lame one-liners has diminished, we can have a serious conversation.”

“About what?”

“About the reason you’ve been put under arrest.”

I straightened up. Was she really going to tell me?

Orden never made it simple. 

As usual, I was right.

“I want you to guess. Admitting your misbehavior is the first step toward betterment.”

Still playing games with me, but you don’t play the player.

“Well, let me see. It was my first operation. I took out a bunch of Technoids with a 15mm that was as useful as a cotton ball, freed dozens of survivors and made everyone join your cluster. I should have gotten a crown instead of chains.”

Orden shifted her weight toward her right leg and strived her long finger against her chiseled features.

“You know what I find remarkable about you? Even after you’ve been shot and beaten up, taken to a cell where you suffer from a severe wound, you still possess the audacity to challenge my authority.”

“It’s not that I have much to lose at this point.”

She licked her lips and consulted her datapad.

“You have ignored your captain’s command, questioned his authority, taken over his role and led the fireteam into enemy territory without backup or proper preparation. On top of that, you have violated Bulwark’s urban SOPs and jeopardized our resources.”

What a mouthful, but at least I knew what I was charged with. The accusations sounded complex, but the truth was, Hecto whined about me. A wannabe alpha male that feared for his standing and thus turned crybaby. Thankfully, I came up with my defense.

“Hecto isn’t much of a leader when a rookie like me manages to overtake his team, now is he?”

“You don’t have the permission nor the experience to make that judgement.”

More regulatory BS. 

I pushed myself up and leaned my battered back against the cold steel wall.

“Listen. We’ve met a couple of survivors in the abandoned mall and heard about their folks being captured by the so-called Technoids. You guys keep saying it’s all about the people and the greater good, so I told them we’d help out. Sure, I acted on instinct, but it hasn’t betrayed me so far. I knew what I was doing, even though I can't explain it."

Based on Orden’s indifferent look, the explanation probably entered her left ear and exited her right with no stop in-between.

“Believe it or not, there are good news. Even for someone like you.”

“I’m going to get a lifetime sentence in my cell.”

“You may, if you keep undermining my authority.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not.”

“You’re right.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Among the survivors you’ve persuaded is a former scientist with vast knowledge about the past. She spoke highly of you. I don't know what you did to sway her."

“I simply told them the truth.”

There was nothing else to add.

“She’s going to join our R&D department and will be of great use to the Bulwark Cluster. For that, I thank you.”

“I’d love to shake your hand, but some freakish laser beam burned parts of my side. The injury sends buttloads of pain through my body, preventing me from functioning like a good Bulwark citizen.”

Orden pressed her lips.

Threw me a glance cold enough to freeze lava.

Two men with a stretcher entered the cell. They put me on it and sprayed my wound with some kind of disinfection cream. 

“What’s happening now?”

Orden sent me a smile that for once looked hotter than frost.

“We’re bringing you to the medical station. You can’t serve the greater good with that wound of yours.”

Orden, simply irredeemable. 

“What about my sentence?”

“You will receive your punishment once your body is at acceptable health. Until then, watch your energies.”

She waved me away and walked out the cell last.

The meds carried me back to the elevator. 

One injected some liquid into my right arm and sent me flying into nowhere’s land.

Wooohoo.

I welcomed sleep but wasn’t sure whether I wanted to wake up again.

41

My first time in the medstation. 

Sightseeing the wounded way. 

Two nurses in grayish scrubs welcomed me on the hospital bed that was as soft as reinforced concrete with steel coating. Did everything in this cluster have to be discomforting? 

“How are you feeling?” the nurse to my left said. 

“Like someone who’s been shot by a beam rifle.”

She checked my wound with some kind of scanner.

“Don’t worry, it looks worse than it is. You have no fracture and no internal bleeding. We’ll have your flesh repaired in no time.”

“Where’s the doctor?”

“He'll arrive soon."

She cleaned the wound, sprayed on some disinfection stuff and injected a transparent liquid into the veins of my left forearm. Used some kind of bionic arm machine that laser'd my injury, which sent jolts of ache through my skin. Finally, she wrapped a bandaid around the naked shoulder and gave me a pat on the good one.

“Thanks to the technology of our hardworking Bulwark engineers, you will be fit for deployment in less than a week."

“Sounds good. I’m looking forward to that next beam injury.”

The nurse stretched her thin lips but didn’t quite manage a smile. She chained my limbs to the stretcher, apparently for my own protection. I believed it was a security measure so I wouldn’t run away from this place.

Because with a wounded body like mine, that was surely the obvious choice.

Her assistant saluted me goodbye. 

“I leave you alone now. Please recover quickly, your services are in need.”

“Thanks for caring."

Off they went behind the steel door, and I was back enclosed in a cell with ugly steel walls and lots of medical machines. At least they treated me well.

No scratch that. 

They treated me with the minimal care required to keep me alive.

“Heya.”

Talking about silence. The ubiquitous voice of Konforma entered my ear channels. The wall opposite of my bed turned into another hyper-definition screen. The AI’s avatar manifested into her trademark Bulwark uniform with the girl's body. 

“I see the meds have treated you already. Swell. It’s time for your Contribution Correction Course.”

Five minutes alone, and I was already getting pestered with lectures. The committee of this cluster surely dug their propaganda policies.

“Do you mind if we postpone this to a couple hours? The beam wound kind of slows down my critical thinking skills.”