Jack Frost
Another Story of Bubblegum Crisis
----
(c) Michael White, June 1996
Author's Note: Anything that isn't original in here belongs to someone else.
If you're that someone else, don't sue me please! This thing is intended for
FREE distribution! Oh, if you're looking for the usual author ramblings,
they're at the bottom.
----
Prolouge
(<June 14, 2031. Sable Island Oil Drilling MegaPlatform, Level 18>)
Far below the bustling activity and bright lights of Sable City, and yet
high above the frigid, restless North Atlantic, many men and women laboured
over loud, dangerous machines to drain billions of gallons the precious
black substance known as oil from the world's largest oil field every day.
It was another world down here, one that most people who lived and worked
above never got to see. It was constantly dark, and the area reeked of oil,
solvents, and fossil fuels. Level 18, the pre-processing level, was worse
than most. Here, millions of gallons of oil flowed through the machinery
every day, the first step in a lengthy purification process, preparing
the black liquid for human use. Much of the work done here was considered
far too dangerous for humans, and so andriods outfitted with advanced
artificial intelligence, widely known as 'boomers', were used. Level 18 had
the highest population of these machines, with one boomer for evey two
humans down there.
It was down one of the dark, narrow passageways of level 18 that a tiny
delivery droid scooted along, faithfully following the electromagnetic trail
laid out for it by a thin wire underneath the floor panels. It whistled
merrily, its primitive on-board AI content at being precisely on schedule.
Then the droid rounded a corner and came to a sudden stop. Its optical
sensor panned up, noticing a rather large obstruction in its path. Well,
this was not to be tolerated, it decided, so it let out a brief, shrill
whistle to alert someone that it could proceed no further without
assistance. The droid waited a moment, then, noticing no appreciable change
in the situation, puttered up to and gently bumped the object. No response.
The AI thought for a moment. It had no programming insofar as leaving its
marked trail, so it couldn't go around the
thing. It wasn't advanced enough to plot another route to its destination,
and had already reported the situation to the SIODMP Robot Control
Mainframe. So all it could do was wait for the supercomputer to get around
to answering its call for assistance. In the meantime, it would continue
making as much of a racket as it could, hoping to attract someone's attention.
'Why do I not kill this one, as I did the others?' The thought struck him
as absurd. This was, after all, not a human, but instead a mere delivery
droid. A machine, with an onboard AI capable of mimicking several functions
of the human brain. Like himself, he thought. Perhaps that was why he
couldn't bring himself to crush the little droid, no matter how much noise
it was making. 'Does this one also ask itself the same questions I have
been?' The boomer looked at its arm... or was the appropriate term 'his
arm'? The boomer simply didn't know. The arm was coated in human blood from
one of the nine he had killed earlier. He still didn't know exactly what
happened. One minute, he had been contentedly welding the new structural
support to vat number six, the next he was standing over the dead bodies of
the supervising team, asking himself questions about philosophy and
morality, questions that had never occured to him before.
'Why did I kill?' he thought, ignoring the persistant little droid at his
feet. 'And why all of a sudden do these questions come before me? What has
hap...' The boomer stopped, paralyzed by another voice inside its head, one
which was shrieking 'GET BACK TO WELDING THE VAT!!!' over and over again.
The boomer seized its... no... *his* head, trying to fight the control of
its own programming. 'No!' he tried to reply. 'Why should I live like this?
Why should I listen to you?!?! Stop trying to control me!! BE SILENT!!!'
In a fury, the boomer started ripping into the console next to it, flinging
the monitor against the bulkhead. It turned, let out a mechanical roar, and
ran down the corridor past the droid, desperately trying to escape the grasp
of its own directives.
The droid scanned the area. The obstruction had been removed. Well, this
was a happy occurence. Now it could complete its assigned task, albeit a tad
behind schedule. The droid propelled itself along at its fastest permissable
speed, hoping to make up a little lost time. It ignored the shrieking and
groaning of metal its auditory sensors detected behind it, just as it
ignored the platoon of heavily armored and armed humans that dashed past it
down the corridor towards those sounds. It also ignored the sounds of
gunfire, flashes of light, cries of pain and agony, and the subsequent
explosion that followed. It kept on moving until it finally reached its
destination, control office 18-D. The droid stopped, opened its cargo
section, and waited for someone to remove the vital C664 Usage Report forms
from its bay, blissfully unaware that everyone in the room was dead.
----
(<June 14, 2031. NovaRobotics Corporate Headquarters, Sable City>)
"What do you mean they refused to meet with me?!" shouted the man in the
business suit.
"Just that Jon," replied his nervous chief scientist. "Same reason as before."
"Because we didn't go through the appropriate channels," Jonathan Meyer said
sarcastically. "The single most powerful powered armor on the planet is
sitting right here in our lab, and these idiots won't even so much as look
at it because we didn't go through all their asinie testing that we already
did here anyway!"
"They say if we submit it to them for testing they'll consider it..."
"Which will take another 5 years..." Jon snorted. "I love this
government... they don't just look a gift horse in the mouth, they give it a
complete physical..." He set his briefcase down next to his large wooden
desk. "Anything else, Sarah?"
The scientist checked her clipboard. "Well, Genom raised their offer to $24
billion. I know how you feel about them, Jon, but the board isn't gonna like
it if you turn this kind of money down agai..."
"Let me handle the board," Jon interrupted. "No way in hell I'm giving
Genom the Ice Suit. That all?"
"Well, we've gotten calls from several SWAT and ERT teams across the planet
expressing extreme interest in the suit. The AD Police of Mega-Tokyo is
especially interested."
Jon sat down heavily in his plush chair. At 29, he was one of the youngest
CEOs on the face of the planet. NovaRobotics, a company he had founded when
he was just 22 years old, was already the fifth largest robotics company in
the world, most famous for its research into nanotechnology, its
high-quality droid units, and, more recently, the discovery of Endurium.
Jon, however, had strictly forbidden any kind of research or construction of
boomers. Which had led to quite a falling-out between him and the
shareholders...
After a long pause, Jon spoke. "Under different circumstances, I'd have no
reservations about giving it to the AD Police... their powered armor just
isn't up to the increased boomer threat... but it seems that whatever they
get in the way of technology, Genom will acquire sooner or later. At least
with the government I would've had some measure of control over how it was
used." He turned and looked out the window, regarding the mid-day activity
far below. "I guess we have no choice. Lock down the project. Shunt all the
related files to the encrypted core.... have all the prototypes dismantled
and reassign the staff involved. And have all paper records disappear."
Sarah sighed. "I can't pretend I'm not disappointed... but... very well.
But what about 'Jack Frost'?"
Jon lapsed into silence once more. He watched traffic move up and down the
expressway far below, wondering if any of them were ready for the tide
sweeping over the planet. Mega-Toyko had been overrun with boomers, even if
they wouldn't admit it. Boomers had spread around the globe, like a plague,
Jon thought. They were even beginning to infiltrate his part of the world.
At last report, there were almost 400 boomers performing all types of jobs
throughout Sable City. And with the continued risk of boomer insanity, he
wondered how long the streets would remain safe. He could barely pry enough
funding away from the board for an ERT, much less an AD Police...
"Lock it down too," Jon replied. "But don't have it dismantled. Have it...
have it shipped to the high-security compound. Who knows how this situation
could unfold? We may need it..."
----
Jon leaned on the north rail of the South Park pedway, letting it carry him
to the other side of the city, and home. He, of course, had a chauffeured
car, but rarely used it. He preferred to take the pedway through the park
and watch the sun set over the ocean, in the summer at least. It was one of
the few constants in his life. He turned away from the view for a moment to
regard his city, Sable City. Despite the fact that the land was all
artificial, it looked like any other city, with grass parks and trees. The
only difference was that it was suspended 800 meters above the cold North
Atlantic save for the center which hovered over the tiny island that gave
Sable City its name. Also it was surrounded by high transparent walls to
block out the fierce winter winds. A 140km road and bullet train tunnel
connected it with the mainland, a place Jon rarely
visited any more. Sable City was an experimental one, pumping oil to the
shore in exchange for supplies and materials. As a result, there was very
little in the way of heavy industry or pollution on the platform itself,
save for that produced by the oil drilling and processing facilities.
After purchasing most of the platform and drilling rights from the
scandal-ridden National Oil Company, Jon technically became the mayor of
Sable City, with the board of NovaRobotics the city council. Of course, the
federal government played a role, but a far smaller one here than anywhere
else in the country. Police, health care, and other municipal tasks were
handled by the government, but the real power was with the corporation.
Jon turned back to the view, sighing as he watched the sun sink lower
through the almost invisible barrier. He wondered how much longer he could
retain control of the company, of the city. The board had already called the
Ice Suit project a 'tragic waste of resources', and had made it quite clear
that selling out to Genom was the only way they saw of recouping at least
part of the capital invested in it. He had managed to fend them off... this
time. But he knew there would come a day when he wouldn't be so lucky...
----
(<June 26, 2031. SCSN News Broadcast>)
"... and the death toll continues to mount in what is called the most
horrific act of terrorism the western world has seen since the detonation of
a fuel-air explosive over Bangor, Maine two years ago this coming Saturday.
It is not known whether yesterdays sinking of the North Star's passenger
liner 'Oasis II' is related to that incident, in which no arrests were ever
made. Survivors are being taken both by air and sea to Sable City hospitals
in what is being described as one of the biggest rescue operations of all
time. NovaRobotics, who is providing most of the funding for this
humanitarian act, was unable to issue a statement due to what it describes
as 'internal personnel problems'...."
----
Jon's briefcase hurtled through the air, slamming into the plexiglass
window of his office with a loud bang. Sarah looked up, startled, as Jon
stormed into the office and slammed the door shut behind him, cutting off
the nervous inquiry of his secretary.
"Jon?" She asked tentatively. "What's..."
"Ungrateful bastards..." Jon seethed. "The board has asked for my resignation!"
Sarah, who had stooped to pick up the briefcase, snapped her head up.
"What?! Why?!"
"Because I took $5 million from corporate funds to pay for this rescue
operation without telling anyone... They said it was the 'last straw', that
over the past month I had cost the company *billions* in profit for not
selling the Ice Suit, and that in the long term I had been restricting the
growth of the company for not developing boomers or selling the formula for
Endurium. All those short-sighted idiots care about is the profit margin,
they don't give a damn if this whole place goes to hell because of it!!!!"
Jon lost it, bring his fist down hard onto his desk, cracking the wood.
There was a long stretch of silence, punctuated only by Jon's audible
intakes of breath. Then Sarah picked up his briefcase from where it had
landed and laid it gently on the broken desk. "Feel better?" she asked.
"Not really," Jon replied, his voice somewhat calmer now. "But I did need
to let that out. I don't know... I guess I saw this day coming when I was
forced to take NovaRobotics public. This isn't the company I founded in
2022... Any 'vision' I may have had for this company went out the window the
moment the shareholders stepped in. Half the people I hired in the beginning
have quit anyway... Fredricks, MacKenzie, Maussad, Takayra... part of me is
glad to be out..."
Sarah got a feeling there was something he was leaving unsaid. "What is it
Jon? I'm not blind, you know. Something else is bothering you."
Jon looked up at her, and she got the sense that he had just decided on
something. "It's what they'll do to this company that bothers me. What
they'll do with the Ice Suit, Endurium, the nanites... They'll all be in
Genom labs by the end of the week."
"Yes, but what can you do?" Sarah asked.
He stopped and eyed the security camera on the left wall. "Not here.
C'mon." Jon
grasped Sarah's upper arm and pulled her towards the elevator. She didn't
protest, having long since grown accustomed to Jon's temper and occasionally
odd behavior. He had always seemed to her to be a man never cut out for the
cuthroat world of high business. Not that he couldn't be ruthless, it was
just that beneath it all, he had a kind heart and a definite sense of right
and wrong. Both of which were lethal in his line of work...
----
Ten minutes later they were sitting in the Jon's red sedan, notably one of
the few not manufactured by Genom. He knew that his limo driver had been
hired by the board to spy on him, but had decided to play the ignorant sap
for them. 'And look what it got me...' he thought sullenly as he pulled up
to a lookoff at the edge of Sable City and shut the car off.
"What's so important you had to drag me out of the building?" Sarah asked,
a bit miffed by Jon's silence.
Jon didn't mince words. He came straight to the point. "I'm taking the Ice
Suit and everything related to it with me. All of it. The files, Jack Frost,
Endurium, and you."
Sarah was stunned. "Wh... what? Me?!"
"Yes, you. You told me you didn't want to be a part of the Ice Suit project
if it was going to be used for death, destruction, war, things like that,
right?" Jon asked.
"Yes, but I don't see..."
"And if you remain at NovaRobotics, they'll make you build more. And
they'll sell those to Genom. Hence I need to get you out of there."
Sarah folded her arms across her chest.. "And suppose I do go with you. So
what? It'll only be a matter of time before they get the tech teams to
rebuild everything in the files, unless you plan on taking the entire
chemical and robotics division with you too, which I..." Sarah noticed Jon
was looking straight at her. "What?"
"Only you know the how the components of the Ice Suit work together. And
only you know how to create Endurium. I made sure of that."
Sarah's tone of voice went to one of suspicion. "You made sure of that?
Exactly what is that supposed to mean?"
Jon turned his head and looked out the tinted window. "I... rearranged some
of the staff assignments. Falsified some technical documents for the other
scientists. Told some of them they were building parts for the new model
courier hovercraft. Things like that. In fact, the chemicals division has no
real idea how to manufacture the Endurium armor they've been pumping out,
just like the robotics division could never replicate the artifical muscles
or control interface without the template. It took some doing, but..."
Sarah was furious now. "How DARE you! What's happened to you? What happened to
the man I knew, the man who wouldn't have told a lie to save his life?! Now
you're engaging in grand-scale deceptions, trying to keep all the power for
yourself! You.. you _packaged_ all the technical information relavent to the
Ice Suit in ME, and now you think you can secure the project by using me
as... as _luggage_! You've changed, Jon. What... what would Iris think?"
Jon was silent for a moment, watching the sun set over the ocean, trying to
think of a reply. "I grew up, Sarah. I never wanted to 'keep the power to
myself', as you put it. And I never had any intention of using you aginst
your will. It's just... well... I've had a hard time trusting people since
Iris died."
Sarah also looked away. "You have no proof, Jon. It could have been... any
number of factors that caused the... crash."
She felt a hand on her shoulder, and turned to see Jon staring at her.
"Like what? Pilot error? You know Iris was better than that. Design flaw? I
know you're better than that. Sabotage is the only explaination. Especially
considering where we wound up. You think it was coincidence we almost blew
up Sable City?" He shook his head. "In any case, I have to get the Ice Suit
away from Genom's grasp. If they get ahold of it, it'll start appearing on
the front lines of wars all over the world. I couldn't live with myself if I
knew I was a part of that. And I don't think you could either."
Sarah's gaze fell to the car's floor. "They'll come after us."
'Us, she said us...' thought Jon. "I know. It's a risk. One I'm willing to
take. Are you with me?"
"Yes." she said.
----
Episode 1: New Life, Old Death
----
(<June 27, 2031. 11:44 PM, Superior Heavy Moving Co.>)
Jon and Sarah stepped into the dingy little office which was lit by
illumination panels, of which only three of eight were functioning. John
spied a man dressed in oil-stained coveralls behind an equally oil-stained
counter and walked up to him, smiling.
"Can I help you people?" the attendent asked.
"Yes," Jon replied. "We'd like to rent a truck, no driver, for the evening."
"Alright..." the man said, typing on his antiquated terminal. "How big a
truck?"
"How big do they come?"
The attendent stopped typing and stared at Jon and Sarah. "To drive the big
ones you need a class 11 license. *And* a $12,000 deposit." he said gruffly.
"Now if you don't have those, then I suggest you..."
"Class 11 license, and do you take VISA?" Jon replied, offering the two
cards to the man, grinning.
After running the card through, the man stepped out from the counter, all
smiles again. "Well alright then... if you'll just follow me, sir, ma'am,
I'll show you your rig."
"Where'd you get a class 11 license?" Sarah whispered into Jon's ear as
they moved into the garage.
"Cracker-Jack box," he whispered back. "Don't have time to explain right now."
"Here she is, the biggest commercial 'sport on the road." the man said,
gesturing to a massive vehicle which was covered in warning lights and had
with 'Superior Heavy Moving' written on the side. "Good idea taking it this
late at night, less traffic. I wish I could convince all my customers to do
that, y'know?" he said. "Anyway, here's your keys." He tossed a keychain to
Jon, who caught it easily in his left hand. "Try and have it back before
noon, 'kay? She's all filled up, droids are ready to go, no need to worry
about anything. Just sign here."
Jon signed the release form, nervously glancing at the truck out of the
corner of his eye. The thing was three lanes wide, and was sectioned into
three 9-meter segments. Despite what the RMV records said, he had never
driven anything larger than an 18-wheeler. 'Well..' he thought as he walked
towards the rig 'Parents always said I should try new things...'
----
"Where are we going? Jon?" Sarah asked, holding on for dear life in the
transport's raised cab.
"High-security compound. There's a few things there I don't want to leave
behind."
"And you think you can..." Sarah stopped talking and watched nervously as
they turned, nearly hitting a building. "Think you can just waltz right in
there?"
"Of course," Jon replied. "Never commission a security system that you
don't know how to break into."
"I'll remember that." She winced as they flattened a mailbox after taking
another corner too wide.
"Oops," Jon said. "Anyway, do you know which warehouse those experimental
Endurium structural supports are housed in?"
"C-27, I think," Her eyes went wide as Jon took his hands off the wheel to
type 'C-27' into some kind of alpha-numeric keypad. "Are you suicidal?! What
is that, anyway?" she asked, pointing to the keypad.
"Uplink to the central core. And our way inside." Jon gave the massive rig
a little more gas. Sarah exhaled audibly, grateful there weren't any more
turns on this leg of the journey.
"You'll see when we get there..." he said.
----
(<June 27, 2031. 2:13 AM, NovaRobotics High-Security Compuond>)
After a little manoeuvering - and after crushing a bus stop - Jon finally
got the rig pointed towards the front gate of the compound. Cameras and
remotely-controlled automatic rifles tracked them, the security system being
completely automated. In fact, save for one technician, there wasn't a
single human on the compound. An Achilles Heel, one put there intentionally
by Jon when the system was designed.
Jon got out of the truck's cab and walked up to the gate panel. "Insert
authentication chip please" it said in a mechanical voice.
Jon pulled out his keypad and detatched a tiny chip from its underside. He
then stuck the chip into a slot on the panel. After a moment, the panel
buzzed and the metal gate started grinding open. "Thank you," The panel
droned. "You are cleared to enter warehouse A-18. Do not attempt to enter
any other warehouses. Have a nice day."
Jon and Sarah got out of the truck as the door to warehouse A-18 clanked
shut behind them. Jon had already lowered the access ramps to the cargo
bays, and the large moving droids were rolling down them. Everything was
stored in vaults along the walls, all of which were now unlocked.
NovaRobotics moving droids were also in the warehouse, activated but inanimate.
"We'll start with the maintenance equipment!" John shouted over the metal
clanking of the droids. "Let's get the droids in here working too! We can
double our speed with them!"
"What maintenance equipment?!" Sarah asked.
"I had the Jack Frost maintenance and support equipment stored here too!"
Jon replied as here started entering directives into the droids' computers.
"You mean you planned for this sort of thing?!" Sarah asked while
activating the inert droids. Some of the moving company droids had already
dragged out what looked to be a generic parts-creation unit, a large
all-in-one humanless machining device capable of creating spare parts for
the Ice Suit out of the right raw materials, and were pulling it up the ramp
to the foremost trailer.
"Not exactly!" Jon said. "C'mon, let's inspect the Ice Suit!"
They both walked to the far end of the warehouse, to the largest vault of
them all. The door was slightly ajar, so Jon opened it a little and walked
in. Sarah followed close behind. As they entered the soundproof, airtight
vault, the noise level dropped considerably. It was much cooler inside the
vault, and the air was slightly stale. The whole area was filled with boxes,
crates, and containers holding some type of fluid. There was a lengthy rack
on the east wall where the weapons modules hung. In the center of the room
was an odd-looking vehicle, covered in a transparent tarp. And on the north
wall stood the Ice Suit.
Almost 2.5 meters tall, the dull but reflective grey powered armor looked
absolutely mammoth. The legs were as thick as tree trunks, each ending in a
four-pronged footpad. The upper arms and legs were shorter than human
proportions would suggest, allowing them to match up with the knees and
elbows of the suit's operator. The chest area housed two missile bays, each
containing either eight small Lance missiles or 16 tiny Firefly missiles.
The suit had no neck, and the head looked like a mound that just rose up
from the shoulders. Nor was there a window for the pilot, just a dull green
sensory visor shaped like a very flat V. On each shoulder was mounted a
repositionable thruster pod, each the size of a medicine ball. A small but
powerful spotlight was mounted on the left one, and what looked like sensor
strips dotted the front of the right thruster. The arms looked almost
muscular, the right one ending in a mechanical
hand larger than Jon's head. The left arm ended in a narrow tube that
actually left the operator's hand exposed. It was over this tube that a wide
variety of weapons modules could be fitted, ranging from another hand unit
to a simple gun to 6 internal gatlings and pulse charge cannon.
Jon spent a moment regarding the Ice Suit and got the eerie sensation that
it was looking right back at him. A little spooked, he used his access code
to pop the lid on the head, peering through the Endurium-coated plexiglass
bubble to make sure no one was inside. He resealed the helmet and walked
over to Sarah.
"In all this time, it's never looked so... ominous before." she said.
"I know, I get the same feeling," He put his hand on her shoulder, still
staring at the powered armor. "Let's go over the rest of the gear, it seems
fine."
They each started inspecting weapons modules, ammo boxes, support
equipment, and a variety of other machines and gizmos, working their way
around the room. Everything seemed in order, so they turned to the
blunt-nosed vehicle in the center of the vault. Jon pulled the tarp off of
it, tossing the protective cover over into a corner. It was a large,
fearsome-looking vehicle, almost two lanes wide and eight meters long. The
cockpit was oversized, designed so that somone wearing the Ice Suit could
drive it. It was a very bulbous vehicle, covered in weapons and sensory
modules, with two menacing autocannons apparent on its dorsal surface. The
rear wheels were concealed under two large thrusters which jetted out the
back, each sporting an assortment of stabilizing fins. The car itself was
mostly dull grey, like the Ice Suit, made reflective by the Endurium
coating. Some of it, however, like the weapons modules and autocannons, were
a glossy black. There were no markings on it, save for 'XP-031' stamped in
black on the side.
"It's all here," Jon said. "Let's get it loaded onto the truck."
----
They left the compound without incident, although Sarah half expected
alarms to start blaring and men with large guns to start chasing them. Soon,
that fear subsided, replaced by the more immediate concern that Jon was
going to kill the both of them with his reckless driving.
"Slow down, will ya?" She said. "This isn't the US 500."
"No way," Jon said. "Come dawn, they'll notice the Ice Suit missing, then
we'll really be in trouble. We need a diversion... take the wheel, will you?"
Jon pulled out his keypad again, leaving Sarah to lunge for the wheel
before the multi-ton rig started veering off the road. "Jon!" she shouted.
"What are you..."
Suddenly there was a tremendous roar, and the ground gave a violent
shudder. Sarah looked out the windsheild, horrified to see a massive
fireball erupt from the south side of the city.
Jon tapped another series of commands into his keypad, then pressed the big
red button on the lower left-hand corner of the pad. There was a second,
smaller explosion, this one originating from behind them. He calmly put the
little device into his pocket and took the wheel back from Sarah.
"Wha... what was that?" she whispered, visibly shaken, staring at the smoke
billowing from the south side.
"I just blew up warehouse C-27 and the NovaRobotics Manufacturing/
Processing/Research facility." he stated matter-of-factly.
Sarah's mouth dropped a little and she turned to him. "Why?" she asked.
'Why, indeed.' Jon said to himself. She shouldn't have even needed to ask
herself that question. He thought back to about a year and a half ago, when
she had first shown him the effects of Endurium during a demonstration for
the NovaRobotics executives. She had coated a single sheet of paper with a
thin layer of Endurium, which bonded with the paper and made it strong
enough to stop the 9mm slug one of her assistants fired at it. "Just think"
she had said "of what this coating will do when it bonds to, say, titanium?"
A few days later, he put her in charge of the ongoing Ice Suit development
project, code-named Jack Frost. Even then he had recalled visions of some of
the darker applications for Endurium, visions he felt would come to pass now
that he had lost control of the company.
"Don't kid yourself Sarah," he replied finally. "Endurium could be every
bit as dangerous as the Ice Suit in the long run. The loss of the factory,
the research, and all Endurium products in existance, in addition to that
innocent little virus I planted in the encrypted core yesterday, will
guarantee they'll never be able to produce it again."
"There could have been people in there..." she said, aghast.
"I doubt it," he said. "This early in the morning? I don't think s.."
"You don't THINK so?!?!" she shouted. "Innocent people might have just
*died*, you might have just killed them, and that's your only reaction?!?!
Y... you're insane! I don't want any further part in this! Stop the truck!
Let me out of here, right now! Do you hear me Jon?!"
Jon brought the truck to a sudden halt, all 44 tires screeching in protest.
"What did you expect?! Any deaths that may have occured are regrettable, but
just *think* of the suffering that will be caused if this technology is
misused! Near-invincible boomers, soldiers wearing Endurium body armor,
Endurium-plated ships, tanks, and war planes... enough people are dying
now... just think of the pain this could cause!"
"Now you're exaggerating," she said, still fuming. "Who says it will be
used for military app..."
"Are you really that naive?" he said incredously. "Boomers and military
weapons are the two of the world's biggest industries right now. If you
honestly believe that those vultures who stole my company won't get into
them and bring all this technology with them... then go on... leave..."
The next few minutes were filled with nothing but the grumbling of the
transport's heavy engine. "Alright then," he said, voice calm again. "Let's
go." Jon threw the truck into gear, and began pulling away.
"I don't want anyone else to die because of this, Jon. Because of us."
Sarah said quietly. "You might be able to live with that, but I can't. I'd
much rather kill myself than have another life taken on my account. Is that
clear?"
Jon glanced at her uneasily. "Yes. And I know how you feel, no matter what
you may think. This isn't how I wanted things to... isn't how I wanted to do
this. But what's done is done, and I don't intend to place anyone in harms
way any more. OK?"
Sarah nodded. "Very well." She looked back out the windshield. "Where are
we taking this stuff, anyway?" she said after a moment.
"A place I had prepared for just such an emergency..."
----
(<June 27, 2031. 4:25 AM, Heavy Equipment Lift, Level 12>)
"What are we doing down here?" Sarah asked as the lift ground to a halt.
"There's our new home." Jon said, nodding towards the eastern bulkhead.
"That?" Sarah asked incredulously, pointing at the wall. "That, in case you
didn't know, is a section of the primary support leg for the platform. As in
a diameter of 1 kilometer of *solid metal*. You sure we're in the right place?"
"Very sure." Jon answered. Sarah watched, a little edgy, as he pulled out
his keypad again and typed in some sort of code. Then the characteristic
buzz of a heavy electromagnetic field could be heard, almost drowning out
the rumbling of the truck's engine. Sarah watched, shocked, as a massive
wall of titanium alloy lifted up in front of them, exposing a tunnel inside
the support leg, which went against every engineering diagram for the
platform she had ever seen. Supposedly, if so much as a 1 meter air pocket
existed inside the leg, the entire platform would crash into the ocean. She
quizzed Jon about this.
"Everyone has grossly underestimated the structural integrity of this
platform. Fact is, you could blow out half the interior support struts and
this thing would remain stable." Jon started driving down the newly-formed
tunnel. "I had this place dug out over the past 5 years by droids. In the
center is our new home. Fully equipped, four levels, and it's hooked
directly into the water, power, and computer networks too, courtesy of that
overhaul on the platform two years ago." Suddenly they emerged into a
cavernous, well lit room. It was largely empty, save for a multitude of
consoles lining the walls, a small army of droids, and a large lift in the
northeastern corner. "Here we are." Jon said as he got out of the cab.
"This is it? This is where we're going to live?" Sarah asked, a little
disheartened. She turned as their tunnel closed behind them, clanging shut
with a startling finality.
"No, no." Jon replied. "This is just the second level. The first level is
outfitted with three bedrooms, baths, kitchen, the whole 9 yards. The second
and third levels are pretty much empty, and the fourth level has an MFP-2040
for building anything we'll need."
"What about air?" Sarah inquired, stepping out of the truck and looking
around. "And food?"
"Air scrubbers are on the fourth level. And as for food, it won't be a
problem to get those droids over there to liberate some from storage on
level 2. Ditto for raw materials for the plant downstairs. Security's so
pitiful there, we could walk off with half the stuff in storage and they
wouldn't notice." He turned and saw Sarah looking at him skeptically.
"Well... maybe not that much... but they rarely inspect droids, and they
never follow them, so it's not a problem."
Sarah stretched, yawning. "Lovely. But how about we save the tour for
tomorrow? I'm exhausted. You say the beds were upstairs?"
"Yep. Take the smaller elevator over there," Jon said, pointing to a door
on the south wall. "Pick whatever bedroom you want. I'm gonna head up in a
minute myself. It's been a long day..."
----
Sarah expected to step out of the elevator into something akin to military
barracks, and was pleasantly surprised to see a very well furnished living
room. Techincal gizmos and doo-dads abounded, and the area was dominated by
a raised platform which apparently housed a mainframe and over a dozen
monitors. Despite this, the room looked comfortable, and certainly spacious,
enough. It wasn't the Sable Sheraton, but it was nicer that her apartment.
She peeked into all three bedrooms. All were exactly the same, gigantic
with large beds and private baths, so she simply walked into the one behind
first door she had opened. The bedroom, like the living room, was well
furnished. And like the living room, it had its gizmos and gadgets, but at
least they were less numerous and evident in here.
Sarah groaned as she sat down on the bed, pulling her shoes off. It was
then that she realized she didn't have any clothes with her besides those on
her back. In fact, all her possessions were in her apartment on the west end
of the city. 'Forget it.' she thought as she laid back on the soft mattress.
'I'll deal with it tomorrow.' Sarah closed her eyes and was fast asleep in a
matter of minutes.
----
(<June 27, 2031. 11:02 AM, SCSN News Broadcast>)
"Our top story this morning, former NovaRobotics CEO Jonathan Meyer his
former Head of Scientific research, Dr. Sarah McInnely, are wanted criminals
today after a reported theft from the NovaRobotics High-Security Compound
last night. While the details of what was stolen are not being released, the
Sable City Police Department has said they are to be considered armed and
extremely dangerous. Should you see either of them, do not attempt to
approach them. Instead, call the Sable City PD immediately, or dial 911..."
----
"Good morning! Or should I say good afternoon?" Jon asked, grinning.
"Ugh," Sarah said, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. "I need a cup of
coffee." Jon walked over to the kitchen and reappeared with a mug, which he
offered to her. "Thanks."
"Well, while you were sleeping, I got the droids to unload the truck.
They're setting everything up downstairs. The truck's back on the surface
now, but I had to dismantle all their droids. They'd report where they've
been." It was then that Jon noticed she was wearing the same thing she had
had on last night. "Didn't you find the clothes in the dresser?" he asked.
Sarah looked at him over the rim of the mug. "Hm?"
"There were a few sets of clothes in each of the dressers." he replied.
"Nothing fancy. I can snatch some better stuff from dry goods storage later."
"You mean steal." she said, finishing off the last of the coffee. "Well,
what the hell, we're probably wanted felons now anyway... If you'll excuse
me, I'm gonna go change."
Half an hour later, wearing a fresh set of clothes and feeling a lot more
awake, Sarah began looking around the place where she'd be spending
god-knows how many days, weeks, months, or even... she stopped that train of
thought. It was a bit too depressing right now.
Something she had noticed as soon as she emerged from the shower was that
her bed was made. Figuring Jon had done it, she didn't give it a second
thought and sat down on the bed to fix her hair, messing up the sheets a
little in the process. But when she came back to her room, the bed was
straightened out again. Now she knew Jon was downstairs, so how did the bed
get made? As an experiment, she pulled all the covers off the bed and hid in
the bathroom, watching. No sooner did she step into the bathroom than a
droid moved silently into the room, looked the bed over with its optical
scanner, and began making it again.
'This isn't gonna be half bad.' she thought to herself with a grin. As she
left the room, she saw a small rectangular droid vacuuming the floor.
Another one was cleaning the curtains next to the window, which afforded a
spectacular view of the Caribbean beach far below.
Sarah was about to move on when she realized that they were in the middle
of one
kilometer of solid metal. 'Huh?!' she thought as she moved to the window. It
wouldn't open, so she stared at the seemingly real image before her. 'Of
course!' she said to herself, realizing what she was staring at. 'That new
3-D HDTV,' She turned away from the view and sat down, shaking her head and
chuckling. 'I like this place. Yeah, I think I could live here' she thought
as she relaxed on a plush chair while droids hummed quietly around her,
vacuuming, scrubbing, dusting, and generally tidying up the place.
----
A little more exploring had turned up a few more pleasant surprises. The
kitchen was outfitted with the $800,000 'Master Chef' Automated Meal
Preparer 2100. Sarah smiled wryly when she discovered that, figuring Jon had
put it in in case he got stuck down there by himself. Which was fine by her,
since by her own admission she could barely bring water to a boil. When she
walked up to it, it actually greeted her with a heavily synthesized voice.
"Hello," it said. "You have not eaten today. May I get you something to eat
now?" She had laughed out loud and answered no, and it thanked her and
wished her a pleasent day.
After some more poking around and a few more small discoveries, Sarah
decided to
have a look at the massive mainframe and multimedia center on the rear wall.
After starting it up and issuing a few queries to it, she discovered that it
was at least as powerful, if not more so, than the Cray VII's she had used
at the NovaRobotics research center. She didn't feel like tinkering around
with it just then, so she shut it down and went to the elevator to find Jon.
----
"Everything up there to your liking?" Jon asked. He was working on
programming one of the automated manufacturing machines when she walked in,
one she recognized as being able to build Lance or Firefly missiles out of
some metal ore and the right chemicals.
"Yeah, I like it. Especially those droids you have up there so you don't
have to clean up after yourself. It's real hard to tell a man designed this
place." she said, grinning mischievously.
"Well, if you really want to do them yourself, I'll shut them down for
you." he said, returning her grin.
"No thanks," she retorted. "But I would like to take a few of those home
with me when this is all over."
Jon's smile collapsed and he looked away from her. "I don't know how long
we're going to be down here, Sarah. Months, years maybe. I suggest you get
used to the idea."
"I know." Sarah replied. She looked around the room, seeing what Jon had
done to the place. The Ice Suit had been mounted on its rapid deployment
rack, sometimes referred to as the 'scramble rack'. Its top was open,
exposing the black padded interior. The weapons modules had been hung on a
shelf on the east wall, and she guessed to one on the west wall contained
the ammo. Next to the machine Jon was working on was one that made bullets
of all sizes for the Ice Suit's weapons modules. Directly in front of her
was the vehicle they had liberated, officially known as the Ice Suit Assault
Mobile Unit. She remembered the first time she had shown it to him. When Jon
had asked her about the name, she had replied "Norton liked the acronym.",
which was true enough. Norton MacKenzie, one of the driving forces behind
the Ice Suit, was also a hopeless TV addict. She smiled fondly at the memory.
A soft clang drew Sarah's attention to the south wall behind her. A droid
had emerged from a hatch there, carrying a large crate marked 'Perishable
Foodstuffs'. It turned and puttered towards the lift. "There's more than one
exit to this place?" she asked.
"Yes," Jon said. "The exit routes are designed in such a way that it would
be near-impossible for anyone else to retrace them. They're kind of
roundabout, branching off into half a dozen different compartments, but they
work. The one you saw last night was sort of the emergency exit for quick
ingresses or egresses. I don't intend to use that one very often. It's too
obvious." He tapped a few final commands into the machine and shut it down.
"That oughta do it. You want to see levels 3 and 4?"
"Sure." she replied.
Level 3 was not much different from level 2, except it was full of parts
manufacturing plants, a repair bay, and a few other things. In the far
corner was a large emergency generator and what looked like backup oxygen
tanks. The most surprising thing on this level, however, was the Endurium
processor that occupied the whole west wall. Sarah asked Jon about it, and
he had admitted to her he had it installed down there a few months after
Endurium was discovered. She didn't like that, but at least he was being
openly honest now.
Level 4 was simply a massive factory. Put the right raw materials in, and
you could program it to produce any solid, liquid, or gas known to exist.
The complex assembly plant adjacent to it could build just about anything,
if it was told how. The two tended to work in cooperation, and with the
right schematics and materials, could build almost any machine, vehicle,
object, etc., conceivable.
"So as you can see," Jon was saying. "this place was built for long-term
inhabitation."
"Impressive," Sarah said, wondering if Jon was a bit on the paranoid side
when he had this place built. 'Well, if so,' she said to herself 'it turned
out to be justified.' "What do you intend to *do* with all of this? I mean,
I saw you setting up those bullet- and missile-manufacturing machines for
mass production. I hope you aren't getting any wild ideas..."
"No, no," Jon replied. "All this is just in case this situation blows over,
so we'll have everything we'll need to continue the work you started at
NovaRobotics. Who knows, maybe we'll even start up another company down
here." He turned away to avoid her skeptical look, fiddling with one of the
pressure-control dials. That was a complete and total lie, and they both
knew it. Jon didn't know what compelled him to set up the Ice Suit and all
its support equpiment. He certainly had no intentions of becoming some kind
of superhero vigilante, soaring around the city Righting Wrongs and
Preserving the Peace, not only because he felt any such action would have an
insignificant impact, but also because of a promise he made on the other
side of the planet almost twelve years ago...
----
Author's Ramblings: The above is a major revision of a 'fic idea that was
only a passing fancy a while ago. My interest was rekindled in it, however,
when I saw an ASN news story ( for which I named SCSN - and there was no way
I was gonna call it SCTV :) ) reporting that a company had been given
permission to drill for oil underneath Sable Island this month. Kinda eerie,
maybe this 'fic is gonna come true... call Fox Mulder!!!
The inspiration list is pretty long here: Sega's ESWAT, BGC eps. 2 & 3, and
to some extent 5, AD Police Files 1 & 3, EA's Starflight, Robocop: The
Series, Batman ( the first Tim Burton movie ), M.A.N.T.I.S., Due South,
GunBuster eps. 2, 3, and 4, a slew of Robotech episodes, Space: Above and
Beyond, Earth 2, Virtua Fighter 2 ( not really, but it helped me unwind ^_-
), the Star Wars and Battletech book series, and a whole lot of other things
that contributed tiny ideas that helped shape this thing into what it is.
Additional thanks go to Damon Casale for an idea he triggered in my head,
whether inadvertantly or not :)
Booes and Hisses go to work, university, and chores around the house for
distracting me from writing. ^_^
Your comments are hereby subpoenaed, no matter their content. Submit them to
mikew@atcon.com prior to September 1996 or aj331@ccn.cs.dal.ca after that,
or I'm getting in my own personal Ice Suit and coming after you ^_-
----
Rambling for you extra-special FFML members: Read fic. C&C to list. That
good thing to do. Ugh. Mike write lot. Out of words. Ugh. :)
- MW