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Marlowe buried his anger and made for the closest desk to check if any of the telephones were still working. Walker and Alvin fanned out through the command centre to try the rest. Walker felt a flush of embarrassment looking at the phones as he hadn’t yet tried to call out.
“Have you tried these?” said Marlowe, snatching up a receiver.
“No, sorry,” said Walker. “I heard Shelly breathing and...”
“Don’t worry about it,” said Marlowe, frowning at the receiver. He punched nine-one-one and waited, but there was only the continuous flat tone of a dead line.
“Dead,” he said.
Alvin stared at him, another receiver pressed to the side of his face.
“Same here.”
“It probably took out the router, maybe even the lines,” said Marlowe.
Walker lifted a third phone to his ear and dialled. He turned to see the others watching him with anticipation, but that line was dead too. He shook his head apologetically.
“No surprise,” said Marlowe. “It makes sense that it would cut our communications.”
Marlowe’s eyes flicked to the login field on the workstation monitor in front of him and began typing.
“What are you doing?” said Alvin.
“Calling for help,” replied Marlowe. “The net’s got a separate, secure line.”
Marlowe clenched his fist in triumph, as a browser window opened and filled the screen. He began to type an email.
“Yes,” said Walker. “Nice one.”
“What the?” said Marlowe, suddenly confused.
Walker and Alvin crowded in and watched the words in Marlowe’s unfinished email erase themselves, eroding backwards line by line. Then the screen pulsed and died. Marlowe dropped down beneath the desk and popped a panel there, revealing a cavity housing the pc and thick looms of cables. He shook his head in confusion then moved quickly to the next desk. Again, he entered his log in and began typing an email, but again the screen died.
Marlowe stared at Walker and Alvin, then looked up. His face darkened as the rest of the computer screens around the command centre blinked and died.
Humourless laughter came from the back of the gallery. Walker turned to see Lynch lingering in the red haze there, idly thumbing fresh rounds into a magazine. He saw that while they had been busy with the phones and terminals, Lynch had been busy too. The unstable veteran had cut Shelly’s corpse down and left it sprawled across the floor of the server annex in its own juices. Lynch now had one boot up, resting on the dead scientist’s raw back, chuckling to himself like a hunter posing with his kill.
“Looks like no one’s going home,” said Lynch, his chuckles subsiding.
“You’ve lost it Lynch,” said Marlowe. “You’re postal.”
“Maybe,” said Lynch. “But I’m still a soldier, and I’m the one that’s going to find that thing and shove this rifle up its ass while you boys play with your computers.”
“Yeah,” said Walker. “Good luck with that.”
Marlowe started towards Lynch, but Alvin pulled him to one side before he could be dragged into another confrontation with the man.
“Come on,” he said. “You’ve seen more of this place than the rest of us. There must be another way to call for help.”
“No, it’s cut the lines and it’s monitoring the terminals.”
“There must be something. Something the Machine wouldn’t think of.”
Marlowe rubbed at tense creases in his forehead with visible frustration. Then his eyes stared past Alvin, deep in concentration. He marched over to the far wall and began plucking away the black, plastic panels there.
“What is it?” said Walker.
“There’s a hard-wired dedicated comms link in here somewhere,” said Marlowe excitedly. “It’s an old, redundant circuit left over from the days when this was army property, I remember one of the techies telling me about it.”
“Will it work?” said Alvin, drawing closer.
“Maybe,” said Marlowe. “He said they upgraded the talkback when they fitted this place out for the research project but were told there was no real need for it, so they just covered it up again.”
Walker and Alvin joined Marlowe in ripping the panels away from the walls, exposing the lifeblood of the facility, the circuitry and cabling that distributed data to all the other areas inside the mountain. Marlowe lifted away an eye level panel to reveal a talkback unit. The digital display was dormant, with a row of redundant keys beneath it with which to call through to various unassigned locations. Marlowe felt for the power button and the display flickered into life.
“How are you going to call out?” said Alvin.
“In the old days, this would have been used to communicate with different locations here on site, as well as a few other external assigns that they needed to contact regularly. Like other army bases.”
“But...?” said Alvin.
“But the odds of any of those locations and the lines linking them still being in use are pretty slim, If there are any assigned sources still around, it should pick them up as it loads.”
“How long ago was this an army base?” said Walker.
“Seven, maybe eight years,” said Marlowe. “It’s better than nothing.”
All three men anxiously watched the talkback system boot up, whilst Lynch remained at the back of the command centre, loading magazines and shaking his head in disbelief.
“You’ll do anything to run away from a fight, won’t you Marlowe?” he said. “But I expected more of you Mcready. Back in the day you were the real deal. Look at you now. The men would be sick if they could see what you’ve become.”
Alvin turned to stare at Lynch. Then that dark look crossed his face again, the one that had made Walker double take the old man. Walker’s own gaze flitted nervously between the two men as they stared each other down. Finally, Marlowe broke the growing tension.
“We’ve got something,” he said.
Walker and Alvin turned their backs on Lynch, Alvin’s stare lingering a little longer. They saw that the talkback’s display showed the word “assign” appearing above every key. The default labels loaded up from left to right along the narrow strip of a screen until it reached the end. Marlowe sighed. Then the first “assign” flashed and updated beneath the first key. It turned into the word “Nellis”.
“Son of a bitch...” said Marlowe, daring to smile.
“Who’s Nellis?” asked Walker.
“Not who.” said Alvin. “What. Nellis Air Force Base, just outside Las Vegas.”
“Are you taking the piss?” said Walker, the corners of his lips began to rise.
“No, he’s not,” said Marlowe. “Now keep it down while I call in reinforcements.”
Walker reached over and gripped Alvin’s shoulder tightly, as the old man’s craggy face broke into a broad smile.
“Nellis Air Force Base,” said Marlowe, holding down the talk key as a red light flared beneath it. “This is Tyrell Systems research facility, Nevada, over.”
“Nellis Air Force Base, this is Tyrell Systems research facility, Nevada, do you read me, over?”
Marlowe stared at Walker and Alvin as he spoke. All three men held their breath during the agonizing silence that followed.
“Nellis, this is Tyrell Systems Nevada, over,”
More silence.
“Tyrell Systems,” came a tinny sounding, male voice. “This is Nellis, how can we help you? Over.”
Marlowe closed his eyes and sagged with relief, as Walker and Alvin let out long held sighs.
“Nellis, we have a serious problem,” said Marlowe, suddenly unsure of how to begin his explanation now that he had actually got through to someone. “We have test...hardware malfunctioning and require immediate assistance.”
Marlowe released the talk key and instantly winced at his choice of language. He looked up and saw his own reaction mirrored in the disapproving frowns worn by Alvin and Walker.
For a few moments there was only dead air bleeding from the talkback system.
“Tyrell this is Nellis. Can you repeat what you just said, over?”
“Nellis, Tyrell here,” said Marlowe. “Yes. We have a situation here. Many casualties and test weapon equipment misfiring...and still a live threat. Request immediate armed assistance and airborne evacuation.”
There was another long pause on the other end of the line before the airman finally spoke again.
“Tyrell this is Nellis. Can you describe the exact nature of your threat? Over.”
Marlowe looked at Alvin and Walker again, trying to tune out more taunting laughter coming from the back of the gallery where Lynch was busy readying himself for war. He took a deep breath and stretched his index finger towards the talk key to respond.
Only this time the key flashed red before he could reach it.
“Hello, Nellis,” began Shelly’s voice. “This is Tyrell Systems...”
A thought fired in Walker’s brain. This wasn’t the Shelly he’d spoken with. Not only was the scientist dead, but this version of his voice was cleaner and sharper than the croaking, rasping tones he’d heard.
Too clean.
It was almost manufactured.
“Sorry,” Shelly’s voice continued. “That was one of the boys screwing around. I’ll have a word with him. Over.”
Marlowe quickly flicked the talk key.
“Nellis, Nellis. That’s a lie, we have casualties and are under attack,”
“Tyrell, this is Nellis,” said the air force operator. “This comms line is for emergencies only, over.”
“My apologies Nellis,” said Shelly’s disembodied voice. “I’m going to reprimand the technician responsible for this. Personally. Over.”
“No, no, no!” shouted Marlowe, rising to his feet. His eyes shot to the reddened annex where the real Shelly lay dead beneath Lynch’s boot heel. Marlowe turned and flicked the talk key again. “Hello Nellis? Nellis, can you hear me? Nellis?”
“Tyrell, this is Nellis,” said the airman. “Who exactly am I talking to? Over.”
“Captain Marlowe,” said Marlowe.
“This is Dr. Shelly, Nellis,” said the Machine, mimicking the dead scientist. “I’m head of research here. I take full responsibility for my employee’s behaviour and he will be disciplined. Over.”
Marlowe sank down into a chair, deflated.
“Can’t you do something?” said Alvin.
“It must’ve over patched us remotely,” said Marlowe. “We’re locked out. They can’t hear us.”
Alvin stared at him and then at Walker, but Walker’s eyes were fixed firmly on the dead scientist on the other side of the room.
“Tyrell, this is Nellis,” said the airman. “This is a very serious matter, and I will be logging it with my CO.”
“Certainly, Nellis,” said Shelly’s disembodied voice. “Once again, my apologies. Tyrell out.”
For a moment there was only the low hum of dead air bleeding out from the talkback unit’s mesh speaker. Then that hum faded, along with the digital display, as the unit powered down.
“It mimicked him,” said Walker, wandering back to the centre of the gallery.
Lost hope haunted his features, as he continued to stare at the dead scientist in disbelief. Alvin tried to pull Marlowe to his feet, but the soldier refused to move. He was now a spent force, resigned to his fate.
“Come on, Cap,” said Alvin.
“What’s the point?” said Marlowe. “Shelly was right. We’re already dead.”
“On your feet soldier,” barked Alvin. “We’re not through yet.”
“Yeah,” said Marlowe blankly. “Yeah, yeah we are.”
Alvin slipped off his rucksack and let it fall to the floor, the open top bristling with rifle muzzles. He crouched down next Marlowe and stared at him.
“It’s been a long time since I wore an officer’s uniform,” he said. “But I know the strain you’re feeling. None of this is your fault, Cap.”
Marlowe stared back with tired eyes, and for a moment his haggard features made him look older than the retired soldier next to him.
“You knew these men, so being here’s got to be tough on you,” said Alvin. “But we’ve still got to get these guns back to town if you and the others are to have a chance at getting away. That’s the plan, right?”
“Yeah...” said Marlowe, absently.
“So, what do you say we get out of here then?”
Marlowe looked at the old man with tired, weak eyes. Tired and weak, but there was still something there, something like fight.
Marlowe nodded.
Alvin smiled and rose on creaking joints, helping Marlowe to his feet too. Behind them Walker was staring at the great expanse of screens that dominated the front of the command centre’s gallery.
“Alvin...” said Walker. “You better see this.”
Alvin and Marlowe joined Walker to stare at the bank of monitors before them. The top row of screens had switched sources to show the interior of the command centre with them standing in it. As all three stared at themselves on the screens, more and more monitors switched over to the same source, the cuts cascading left to right along each consecutive row like the spread of falling dominoes, until the whole video wall showed the same image sixty times over. They watched Lynch approach them on the compound view, his screen movements synchronized with his actual movement.
“I think it’s time to get out of here,” said Walker.
The screen in the top left corner of the video wall twitched and died. Then the one next to it turned black too, and the one after that, until an abrupt power loss swept through all the screens in front of them, killing off every image, and plunging the gallery into twilight.
“Yeah,” said Alvin. “Come on, let’s move.”