Insequor (6 page)

The plan had been a success. Daniel had waited in the aeroplane at the end of the runway until literally the last minute; apparently the robot had been about a quarter of a mile away. Toby had judged that close enough and they had taken off. Twenty minutes later, over the Gulf of Mexico, they’d been informed by Davis that the robot had entered the ocean and was following.

Daniel visibly sank in his seat at the news. Part of him had hoped it would stop, blow up or float out to sea. Again and again he tried to rationalise what this thing could want. Again and again he found himself with no answers.

They’d touched down in Cuba not long after and been driven to another compound. This time there were definite signs of where they were. The lookout towers of Guantanamo bay bobbed up and down the length of the border with Cuba and armed guards patrolled the walls. It struck Daniel as odd that this place even existed. He thought of the people who had been imprisoned during the war on terror, perhaps some were still here.

They were ushered through large mechanical gates which eased back with a loud buzz and as they entered a warm wind blew in off the sea over their faces. Toby led them inside, flashing his credentials whenever required; Daniel still hadn’t seen them himself. Finally, they reached a nondescript looking meeting room. With its projector, pine laminate table and chairs it could have been one of the GBP offices from back home. Except sat at this table was the Vice-President, John Parry.

With his white hair, tanned face and smooth bleached smile he looked every bit the political photo opportunity. He glanced up from his notes as the party entered and acknowledged Daniel, Jones, Toby and Davis sat down. They were joined by more high ranking soldiers, older men with battle worn faces, and another man in a plane suit before eventually Toby spoke.

“Thank you, gentlemen, for coming here at such short notice.” The Vice-president gave a nod, even though Toby was addressing everyone it seemed he felt the thanks were specifically for him.

Toby continued, “Before we begin I’d like to make some brief introductions. This is my associate, Mr Davis; to his right is General Stagg and Brigadier General Ronson; opposite we have Air Chief James Harrington who is sat beside Director Carter of the Central intelligence Agency; on my left as I’m sure you all know is the Vice-President and next to him is Detective Jones who first caught up with Daniel.”

A few looks were shared. “Detective Jones is here at Daniel’s request,” said Toby. He looked at Daniel and gave the smallest of nods. “Finally gentlemen may I introduce you to Daniel.” All eyes in the room turned to look at him.

“Hello,” said Daniel.

For a few moments they all continued to stare, somewhere a clock ticked the seconds away, Daniel wasn’t sure how many. Then the Vice-President adjusted himself in his seat and cleared his throat. The eyes swung back like spectators at a tennis match.

“Before we begin this discussion, I’d like to offer a question to the floor.” He looked around the table making sure he had everyone’s concentration. When people make it to the top in politics they usually know how to hold a room; and Parry was no exception.

“I’d like to ask all present if they, or anyone in their division, has any inkling at all of what this thing is?”

Daniel watched the men’s faces stare blankly back. The Vice-President went around each set of eyes looking closely, he was smart. But Daniel could tell he was angry too.

“The reason I ask,” said Parry, “is that if it comes out in the wash that this thing was created by, or with the knowledge of, anyone present here or someone in their department for military or government purposes I will personally make an example of all those involved.”

The brigadier general sat upright immediately, “Mr Vice-President I can assure you that the military have been completely frank and open about all their Intel on this.”

Parry shot him a look that must have burned because the old soldier immediately sat back. “Don’t bullshit me Ronson! The United States military wrote the book on how to misappropriate funds into unauthorised projects.” He looked around again. Tapping his finger on the table he dared people for an answer.

“I want the truth here from the outset. Is this one of your boys ‘broke his leash?’ I’ve spoken to the CIA, NSA, Black Ops, and NASA…Hell, I’ve even asked the good Lord up above. But nobody knows what this thing is or where it came from.”

He leaned forward, this time facing the other general, Stagg. “Now I’m asking you, general, do you know anything?”

Ronson tensed, looked at Stagg, who held up a hand to signify he could sit back. “It’s not one of ours, sir,” said Stagg. The general looked sour; it didn’t please him to answer these questions. Daniel noticed the looks between the two; maybe they had some history.

The tension was broken by Toby with a cough.

“We’ve come up with a preliminary agenda; I hope you’ll indulge us.” He stood up and made his way to a white board on the back wall. Picking up a marker he wrote three words:
What? Why? How
?

As he wrote Toby said the words out loud, before turning on the room. “What is it? Why is it here? And how do we stop it? We believe if we can answer the first two questions, we will find an answer to the third.

“What have you got so far?” said Stagg.

Toby looked over at Davis, who pulled out a notepad. “Well, on the ‘what side’ we haven’t been able to identify any physical markings on it; no signs of engines or power, no obvious weapons or guidance. Nothing that would suggest it has any intelligence and can do anything other than walk. The first we knew about it was when the nearest air force base picked up a ‘UHARD.’”

“Can you elaborate?” said Parry.

“Yes,” said Davis, shifting in his seat. “A UHARD, or Ultra High Altitude Rapid Descent, is exactly what it sounds like. Something that is picked up by radar as travelling at great speed towards the ground from an unusually high altitude. Often this is a meteorite, occasionally space debris or even a satellite. Protocol meant our department was informed.”

“So the thing fell from the sky?” said Stagg. His brown beaten face shifted like a shovel of dirt. Davis nodded.

“Well how did it get up there?” said Ronson. “Did we pick up any aircraft? Russians?”

Davis shook his head. “A UHARD would involve an altitude much higher than any aircraft could reach. This thing came from space.”

The words hung in the air. Daniel looked over at Jones who gave him a friendly wink and then went back to observing the people in the room. It looked like his cop’s instincts were kicking in and he was checking out the different players. Who could be trusted? Who was telling the truth? Who had something to hide?

Stagg tapped his pen on the table. "Okay, so that’s all we have on the ‘what.’ Now the ‘why.’ Why him?” He pointed his pen at Daniel whilst looking at Toby.

Toby made his way back to his seat. “Gentlemen, I believe this is where Director Carter may be able to offer some insight.” He looked across the table at Daniel. “I’d like to apologize if what you are about to hear makes you uncomfortable, Daniel.” Confused, he looked from Toby to the Director of the CIA who had opened a folder on his desk.

“Daniel Loman is twenty-six years old and lives on his own at 14 Goatlands Way, Mountplace. He works as a Support Technician at GBP, a financial software development company based in nearby Park Vale. He has no living family; both parents are dead and no siblings. He earns forty-four thousand dollars a year before taxes and has just over two thousand dollars in his bank account.”

Daniel stared back at the director. The man didn’t even seem to notice him as he continued.

“A non-smoker, he rarely drinks and hardly ever socialises but is liked by nearly everyone in the town. He’s seen as a helpful member of the community taking part in various community projects such as Memorial Day events, amateur dramatic productions and parades. His hobbies include reading, online computer games and he is also a fully paid up member of the local civil war re-enactment society.

“He’s never been in trouble with the law in any way whatsoever apart from a speeding ticket four years ago. His work records describe him as having ‘average to good prospects’ and he is also a member of three internet dating sites.”

The folder was closed and everyone looked back at Daniel. He felt his face flush. How could they know all this? In such a short space of time. Did he already have a file?

Toby spoke next. “From my own experience I can tell you Daniel is an amiable, intelligent but extremely scared young man. What I cannot tell you is why an extra-terrestrial robot is walking through buildings, towns and armies to get to him. This is where the ‘why’ comes in.”

The Vice-President nodded before leaning forward on his seat to address Daniel. Even though he was at the opposite end of a normal table, Daniel still felt like the man was talking to him from somewhere above. “Can you think of anything we ought to know about you?”

Eyes watched. “Nothing that hasn’t already been mentioned,” said Daniel.

The Vice-President nodded again, slowly. His white hair shifted and he patted it back in place. “Thank you.” Parry looked up again; the rest of the room were waiting. “Has anyone else got anything?”

Ronson spoke. “I’d like to suggest we could be dealing with a malfunctioning weapon. Something that has been sent here by another country, possible China, to attack the President, or even yourself, sir.”

Davis placed his hand on his folders, “The technology we’re dealing with here goes way beyond the capabilities of China or anyone else for that matter.”

Stagg cast a glance at Ronson, who shrugged. “What about deploying a nuclear weapon?”

“I don’t think we’re there yet, general,” said Toby.

“And I can assure you gentlemen,” said Parry, “that nuclear weapons are not an option. That comes from the President himself.”

“Not even an underwater detonation?” said Ronson.

“The environmental impact could be catastrophic,” said Toby, losing patience. “Besides, we can’t just go nuking something because it walked across our land. Need I remind you it has not retaliated?”

“The answer is ‘no,’” said Parry. Ronson almost looked disappointed; Stagg frowned and the Vice-President noticed. “Do we have a current plan?”

Nobody said anything for a moment and then Davis took the stage. “At present we can keep it submerged in the sea. We can keep moving Daniel and we can keep its location controlled. It seems to have no intelligence to speak of. It’s just following the subject like a dog chasing a bone.”

Daniel felt his chest swell, but not with pride. “I’m a bone now?”

“Try to understand, son, this is now a military operation,” said Stagg.

He felt his chin tremble and his fingers grasp the table. It was like they were talking about him as if he wasn’t in the room. “This is my life!” he said.

The Vice-President turned to Jones. “Maybe it would be best, detective, if you escorted Daniel somewhere else so he can get some rest.”

“Yes sir,” said Jones, but his voice was unsure. He stood up and gently took Daniel’s arm, his eyes soft but firm. “Come with me.”

Daniel rose up, his face red. “I want to be involved in this conversation.”

Toby walked toward him, Jones was gently pulling him toward the door. “Daniel, please,” he said, “I know these people. We can talk afterwards. Ok?”

Jones led the way and they stepped outside into a bright corridor, stretching away into fuzziness either way.

“Let’s go get some coffee,” said Jones.

“What’s going on? Why aren’t you doing anything?”

Jones stepped back. “Whose side do you think I’m on? I’m trying to help you, but for Christ’s sake that was the Vice-President in there. Let Toby do his job.”

He shot a look back. “What exactly is his job?”

The two stood in silence for some moments, before Jones nodded his head down the corridor. “I don’t know Daniel. But given the situation, I’m your best shot at a friend. So trust me, we have to leave them to it.”

They walked down the corridor before coming across a clinical looking canteen. The coffee tasted good but the room was empty and cold. For the first time since it had all began, Daniel realised he wanted to go home.

The hand on his shoulder made Daniel wake with a jerk. Toby’s soft eyes gazed down. He looked past him to the clock on the wall; it was 3am. Next to him Jones was snoring, his head dropping forward onto his crossed arms.

“How are you?” said Toby.

He yawned and stretched, then bent his fingers back and clicked them, rubbed his shoulder and massaged his eyes. “Tired. What did you all decide?”

Toby sat down at the table; it was plastic and cheap. One leg wobbled and he made an effort to correct it.

“We reached an agreement,” he said, still trying to stop the wobble before finally giving up. “Whilst it’s underwater we have time. That’s about the only commodity we’ve got.”

“Aren’t you going to try and stop it?”

“We already tried. We’ve thrown pretty much ever conventional weapon at it we can. Not even a scratch and the nuclear option is off the table, at least until we know what we’re dealing with.”

Daniel sighed. “So it’s definitely not one of yours?”

Toby sat back, “Absolutely not.”

“There’s nobody else? The Russians? Chinese?”

Toby shook his head. “Daniel, I’ve worked for our government for a long time; I know too many secrets. I’ve seen things that would amaze you, technologies that won’t be available to the public for twenty or thirty years. But this…”

“So what are we going to do? I stay here? What about my life? I have a job, bills to pay.”

“That’ll all be taken care of.”

Daniel thought about his world he’d left behind. His apartment, his car, his job, his possessions; it was just stuff. Nothing else really. Would he really miss it?

But it was safe. It was comfortable and it was home. At the end of the day he could turn out the light and roll over into his white cotton sheets. On a Saturday he could lie in. Maybe read, watch TV. Where was all that now? Where was
he
now?

He looked out through a window at the stars which were so bright down here. Maybe that’s how life was meant to be. You burn, brighter and brighter until you start to fade. Had he burnt his brightest yet? Was he getting brighter or fading? If he was fading, then his life had been pretty pointless.

Toby waved his hand in front catching his attention. “You okay?”

“Fine,” he said. “Can I get somewhere to sleep, or do we have to leave?”

“I’ll make arrangements for you both to be shown to quarters.”

“I want Jones in the next room.”

Toby’s expression, for a fraction of a second, was quizzical. But then he nodded, stood up and made his way down the corridor.

Within minutes a soldier appeared to take them to their rooms. Jones stretched and scratched his head like some animal coming out of hibernation. Both were too tired to speak, but the detective gave him a look that indicated concern. They parted and Daniel sat down on the metal bed in the small, dingy quarters; took off his shoes, laid back and fell asleep.

He dreamt of stars and galaxies; vast planets swirling around each other. Then he was descending, rapidly. Faster and faster he fell, his stomach almost at the back of his throat. But he didn’t crash. His body lurched up at the last second and he zoomed skywards. Beneath him were millions of shadowy creatures, their arms reaching up for him. Fingers tracing along his legs and clutching at his ankles.

The sun had only just risen when he was awoken by a soft knock at his door. A soldier with glasses and a blonde moustache announced he was required at a briefing. He nodded and fetched his shoes and saw the soldier proceed to the next door to wake Jones.

In the briefing room he helped himself to a coffee and sat down around the same table again. This time it was just Toby, Davis, Jones and himself. The Vice President, generals and their entourage were not around.

“So,” Toby pointed his fingers together in almost a prayer. He nodded at Davis who turned on a projector and flicked open his laptop. The younger man looked bleary eyed and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“We’ve come up with a plan that we believe will keep you out of harm’s way whilst preventing any further damage or loss of life.”

Toby raised his finger, “Mr Davis, there has been
no
loss of life so far.”

“Yes, agreed.” Davis looked almost disappointed. The projector had warmed up now and Toby’s associate flicked through his laptop until he found the slideshow. The first picture was of
it
.

“What are we calling it?” said Jones.

Toby turned, “The robot?”

Jones nodded, sat back, satisfied.

“That’s what you all think it is, a machine?” said Daniel. He looked at Davis, then back to Jones. Nobody seemed to disagree.

“The military are calling it ‘Entity 215’,” said Davis, “Something to do with how they track it. The Navy wanted to call it a ULT or ‘Unidentified Land-based Threat’; the President, I believe, calls it the ‘Thing.’ But I think we all agree it’s a robot.”

Daniel looked at the picture closely. It had been taken from above, the arms and legs were in mid-stride. It almost looked casual.

“An autonomous machine”, said Davis, “that resembles a human and carry’s out tasks on command. That’s the dictionary definition.”

“Whose command?” said Daniel.

“That’s the question, isn’t it?” Toby put his hand in his pockets. “A question I have no answer for as I don’t believe this particular robot is from the planet earth. So unless you have upset any extra-terrestrials I have no idea why it’s doing what it’s doing. But, we’ve noticed patterns which may help us. Mr Davis, the next slide.”

The image faded and was replaced with a map of North America with some red lines plotting an angled path which Daniel immediately recognised. It was much the same as his own journey; only it wasn't his footsteps he was looking at. The line was currently half way between Miami and Cuba.

“It never stops,” continued Toby. “It always travels at the same velocity, pretty much, no matter what is in front of it. Even now, it’s walking along the sea bed, dealing with around 50,000lbs per square inch of pressure at the same speed as if it were walking across your back yard.

But it does seem to be lacking somewhat higher intelligence. It follows Daniel but does not see we have been moving him. It always takes the most direct route and, as yet, has been unable to predict any of our changes. So, perhaps we are dealing with some semi-sentient entity. Or maybe just a strange and terrifying computer program? Either way, this is not an intelligent being as we know it. True, some basic artificial intelligence must be at work but we don’t know what.”

Jones sat back and scratched his head, “I’m not sure how any of what you just said helps us though?”

“We can predict what it’s going to do; which means we can keep Daniel safe for as long as we need to.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning, Detective Jones, we can keep moving him about and keep the thing at the bottom of the ocean whilst we work out what to do with it. To be blunt.”

“Move me about?”

Davis turned to regard Daniel and offered something approaching a smile. “We’ve worked out we could fly you to and from Europe every three months and the robot would stay at the bottom of the North Atlantic. We’ve already got buy-in from the Brits and the Spanish.”

“The French are proving a little more…French” said Toby, through a skewed smirk.

“And that’s my life?” Daniel sat back.

“It’s
a
life,” said Toby, “and a safe one. We won’t be abandoning you; we just need more time.”

Daniel rested his head on the table, stared down through his legs at the carpet on the floor. Gloom, dread and helplessness crept around his mind, letting themselves be known. They opened a door somewhere inside and ushered ‘hope’ on its way.

What could they
do
? Even if he agreed to all this they’d already tried tanks and rockets. Time? What would they do with time? It couldn’t be stopped.

But then, maybe he needed some time too. He had to get his head straight, get some space. He needed to be away from all these officials and soldiers.

He got up, nodded and said, “When do I leave?”

Toby looked at Davis who checked his phone. “We have a flight scheduled in four hours. Straight to London. You’ll be there later tonight and we’ll be taking you to a secure facility.”

“No,” said Daniel. Toby and Davis shared a look as he stood up. “Firstly, if he’ll come, I’d like Detective Jones to accompany me.” He looked down, pleadingly, at the Jones who shifted in his seat as he gave it some thought.

“Three months? If I can clear it with my captain, I don’t see why not. Always wanted to go to England.”

“Okay,” said Toby.

“Secondly, I want to stay in a hotel, in the city; somewhere normal. I’m not staying in another army base.”

Toby spoke again, although this time slower. “That’s possible.”

“We’d have to clear it with the UK government,” said Davis.

“Get on it,” said Toby. “Are those your conditions?”

“Yes.” He sat down, a smile on his face for the first time in what seemed like days. “Oh,” he said, “and it needs to be somewhere nice.”