He was no more of a traitor than the rest of his military.
Somebody, higher up, had kept his fleet in the dark.
Ash continued down the road, back the same way he had come just a few hours ago. The sun was now directly above him, scorching the top of his head.
Panting, Ash took a moment to rest. He leaned up against a nearby tree and tried to catch his breath. His hands were still shaking from his near-death experience with the artificially intelligent creature.
It was then, Ash realised he had decoded the acronym – B.A.I probably stood for British Artificial Intelligence.
There were many secret organisations within the British military, including a sector that dealt strictly with robots and droids, but he had only heard rumours of failed prototypes. Clearly, there was far more to the story than he knew.
Ash had held his commitment to the British armed forces in the highest regard, but now he was angry. Although he was just a commando, he deserved to know the truth. Like Ivy had mentioned a few weeks ago, maybe he was nothing more than bait – like a disposable pawn on an overly crowded chessboard.
Even though his army had clearly misled him, Ash tried to find a way to justify it. They were fighting for the greater good, right? The Australians were harbouring weapons capable of obliteration. Sometimes to achieve the impossible, you have to fight a little dirty, even if it meant deception in the process.
Ash felt like the heat was beginning to fry his brain. He needed to get back to the house as soon as possible. Pulling his backpack over his shoulder, Ash carried on his way.
He walked sombrely for another half an hour then finally, the house was in view. Ash staggered up the driveway and pushed open the front door. He consciously locked it once he was back inside. Carrying on, down the hallway, he found Ivy in the lounge room doing sit-ups on the carpet.
She stopped when she heard him approaching.
“Ash?” she asked, jerking upright. “Is that you?”
He stamped his foot on the ground a few times.
“Good – I was shit scared! You’ve been gone for hours...”
He crossed the room and collapsed in an armchair. He leaned his gun against the wall, tossed the backpack at his feet, unzipped it, and pulled out the contents as he looked for his Skye-Scroll tablet. Once he found the device, he switched it on and opened up the text to audio app.
Ash began typing, but it took a while to put together the words.
“I walked into town, but Airlie Beach has been left in ruin. British troops have abandoned the ports and there were no civilians to be seen. We might be the only two people left in the area.”
“Wait, hold on,” said Ivy, putting a hand out in front of her. “No civilians? I find that hard to believe. There are at least ten thousand people that live here permanently, so where do you suppose they went?”
Ash wasn’t sure how to put it, but there was no point in lying to her. She would probably find out eventually.
“Some might have fled to neighbouring suburbs, some might’ve been taken as prisoners. But many have been killed. I think I found a mass grave near the main ports. I doubt there are any survivors.”
She was silent at first, but her hatred could not be contained for long.
“When I get my hands on a Brit, I’m going to slice open their chest cavity while they watch,” hissed Ivy, gnashing her teeth.
Even though he had been exposed to her hostility for weeks now, it still left him uneasy. Ivy was ruthless. Perhaps she always would be.
Ash was then quick to change the subject, but the topic was still troubling.
“Do you remember telling me about the British submarines?”
“Of course, I do,” she replied. “It was a Brit sub that blasted me from the sky.”
“Actually, it wasn’t a submarine. It was a capsule containing an advanced war droid.”
She laughed, shaking her head.
“Don’t be stupid. War droids aren’t real.”
He expected her ridicule, but he wasn’t going to back down.
“No, I’ve seen one of the machines. It tried to destroy me. I saw four empty capsules washed up on Airlie Beach and I’m sure they each contained a droid. They’re called B.A.I Bots, and they can seemingly replicate themselves from whatever available materials they can find.”
Her laughter was gone now.
“Are you bullshitting me?”
“No, Ivy. I’m lucky to be alive. The machine was shooting fireballs from its fist. I have never seen anything like it.”
“Describe what you saw. In detail.”
Ash took the time to give his reply, mentioning particular specifications such as height, width and its human-like appearance.
“Sounds like something straight out of fiction,” she said, after some time.
“For decades we’ve been humouring the ideas of robots fighting our wars, and now I think the British have indeed developed a machine capable of combat.”
Ivy remained still, processing the new information. She looked angry, but Ash could see a trace of fear. He then went on to recount the other observations he had made during his trip into town, including the fact he’d found more food and that the power supply in the city still worked.
“Maybe you should check to see if there is a power box around the side of the house,” suggested Ivy. “Maybe it’s only a matter of flicking a switch.”
Ash agreed and placed down his Skye-Scroll tablet to go and investigate. However, Ivy hadn’t finished talking.
“By the way, I’m sorry about before,” she said, lowering her voice. “I didn’t mean to snap at you this morning. I am grateful for everything you’ve done but – I’m still struggling. I don’t like having to depend on other people and it’s tearing me apart.”
He picked up the tablet again.
“You don’t have to apologise.”
“Yeah, I do,” she continued. “I’ve been a bloody nightmare.”
Not knowing what else to say, he approached her. Extending his hand, he lifted her up off the carpet and helped Ivy to her feet.
After only hesitating for a brief second, he then pulled Ivy into an embrace. He held her there for a moment before letting her go.
“Thanks,” she said, smiling. “I liked that. Maybe we should do it more often.”
With a shrug of his shoulders he then went outdoors to find a power box. He located it around the side of the house. Ash opened it up and pushed just one button. When he ventured back indoors, he found the power had been restored – it really had been that simple. Although the house had greater functionality, there was still no water. No doubt that would be another task to conquer later in the day.
Ash roamed through the rooms within the house and tried the light switches. All in working order. The refrigerator had also been brought back to life and now Ash could charge his devices without a hassle.
Ash then switched on the TV. The screen flicked on, but as the picture came into focus, he was quickly taken aback. The image was nothing but a blue backdrop with two simple lines of text. It read,
We have control over your television networks. Standby for transmission.
There was also a timer below the text, counting down the minutes until six o’clock.
He read over the words for a second time, feeling a fresh wave of anxiety. He picked up his tablet and told Ivy to come and sit next to him. Ash told her what he could see. She started swearing, unable to filter her anguish.
He tried to scroll through the other channels, but every single one had the same blue screen and text. All of the stations had been taken over.
Ash reached out and took her hand, knowing there was nothing more he could do but wait for the transmission.
***
He watched the hours roll by.
Ash had barely moved an inch since switching on the TV. If the British had indeed overthrown the country’s television networks, his army had progressed far quicker than he ever could’ve predicted.
Ivy was restless. She could only sit for a few minutes before she started pacing in and out of rooms, banging walls and slamming doors. She had also found a walking stick in one of the cupboards upstairs. It helped her get around quicker than ever.
At five to six, Ivy finally returned to the lounge room. She tapped her walking stick over furniture before finding a seat next to Ash.
“We can’t stay here,” she said, breaking her silence for the first time in hours. “This situation has escalated quicker than I first imagined and I can’t sit back and let my home be torn apart. The RAAF need to know that I’m alive. I’m sure they’d take good care of you too. We have to call somebody, or maybe travel to nearby suburbs and see if we can get help there.”
He picked up his device and gave a reply,
“We’re just two people. There are plenty of other people that need help too.”
“I get that – I’m not trying to be selfish, but I’m certain somebody would come for us. I know I don’t have the best reputation with the rest of the country, but I was well respected in the RAAF.”
“Then why didn’t they rescue you from the island? There was no search for you.”
“Everyone probably thought I was dead! My jet took a critical hit.”
“You ejected yourself from the aircraft. I saw your parachute and I’m sure many more saw it too, yet there was no search party.”
She was silent for a long time.
“Maybe they were too busy with the invasion. I think they would’ve sent somebody to look for me eventually.”
“And by that time, you would’ve been dead.”
She opened her mouth to dispute it, but then closed it. Ivy turned her head away as if trying to supress her anger, accepting she had been defeated in the argument.
Ash turned his attention back to the television screen. The countdown indicated there was only two and a half minutes remaining before the transmission.
They sat idly, waiting for an announcement. Ash watched as the numbers ticked down, while keeping an eye on the clock. The second it hit six o’clock, the blue screen disappeared and a picture came into view of an older male with greying hair, wearing army attire.
“Good evening,” he said. “This is Lieutenant Colonel Jeremy Clarke.”
Ivy’s entire body tensed up at just the sound of a British accent.
“I am broadcasting this bulletin to you tonight, live from Canberra,” announced Clarke. “In the last twenty-four hours we have now seized control of your nation’s capital.”
Ivy gasped aloud. Ash had no reaction.
“We know of Operation Endurance,” he continued, eyes blazing down the camera. “We are here to put a stop to it.”
Ash’s ears pricked up. Operation Endurance? He’d never heard of it.
“We have troops and Baibots surrounding various cities around the east coast of Australia,” said Clarke, boasting. “We have already overthrown other major capital cities such as Sydney and Melbourne. Brisbane will also fall in the next day or two.”
“Oh my God,” cried Ivy, shaking her head in disbelief.
Ash then watched as a map appeared on the screen highlighting all the locations where British troops or machines had been deployed. There were almost a hundred little red dots littered across the east coast.
“We have also captured your president – Brock M. Hoffman,” said Clarke, smiling. “He too, joins us this evening.”
The screen then cutaway to two uniformed soldiers, holding guns towards a man on his knees. The camera zoomed in to the man’s face, his dark hair was a ruffled mess and his bottom lip was swollen. Although he looked roughed up, Ash recognised the man as Brock Martin Hoffman – Australia’s second president. Hoffman had already triggered a number of controversies in his first term. He was also only thirty-seven, with almost nil experience in politics, yet he had won the election in a landslide.
However, his popularity had nosedived since then.
“Are they bluffing?” asked Ivy, grabbing Ash’s shoulder. “Did they really capture our president?”
“Yes. They have him at gunpoint.”
“We need information,” said Clarke as the camera returned to him. “We are asking for Australian citizens to come forward with details about Operation Endurance. Anyone with insider knowledge or verified facts will have no harm come to them, but anyone who attempts to mislead us will pay for it with their life. You have just seventy-two hours to come forward with the evidence we desire.”
Ivy winced. Ash put an arm around her.
“Your president will be killed three days from now, on this hour, if Australians fail to comply to our request,” said Clarke. “His fate is in your hands now.”
The screen then cut to black, before the blue backdrop reappeared. A new countdown had started, indicating another transmission would take place tomorrow evening at six o’clock. Ash turned off the television and turned to Ivy. She looked on the verge of a breakdown, but was desperately fighting to hold composure.
Ash typed in a message on his Skye-Scroll tablet.
“Are you OK, Ivy?”
“No, Ash, I’m not,” she replied. “It’s worse than I thought.”
Admittedly, the attack on Australian soil had been far more coordinated and organised than what Ash had first thought too. How many other capsules containing Baibots had landed on the east coast? He was beginning to think there were far more of them.
However, the transmission had left Ash with many questions. He doubted Ivy would be able to answer them, but it was worth a try.
Ash keyed in his question,
“What is Operation Endurance?”
She pulled a face.
“Well, surely you know why the Brits invaded us, right?”
He had to be careful. The wrong answer would give himself away.
“Something about nuclear weapons.”
“Yeah, they’re supposedly looking for them so they can destroy them – but it’s bloody bullshit. Plenty of other countries around the globe have nuclear weapons, but suddenly we’re the main target? It’s ridiculous.”
Ash wanted to point out that Australia had started World War III by selling nuclear weapons to countries in Asia, which were then used to wipe out entire civilisations – but Ash didn’t want to stir the pot.
“You want the honest truth?” she continued. “I don’t think this war has anything to do with nuclear weapons. I reckon it’s a cover-up.”
Ash had no time for conspiracy theories but he decided to humour her.
“What makes you think it’s a cover-up?”
“It just never made sense to me. Why would the Brits invade a country over nuclear weapons when there are other countries making the same thing? This war is about land. The United Kingdom has a huge population and no room. Meanwhile, on the other sunny side of the world, Australia has the reverse problem – very few people with an abundance of space. Maybe a decade ago the Brits could’ve solved their population crisis by emigrating a new wave of whinging Poms into our country, but we chose to leave the Commonwealth. We broke away from the Brits, so now they’re looking to conquer this land…for a second time.”
“That doesn’t make sense either, Ivy. Australia has been an independent country for over two hundred years.”
“But we’ve only been a republic for six.”
Ash wanted to debunk her ludicrous theory, but he suspected he’d be caught in a never-ending argument. He took a more tactful approach and changed the subject,
“What do you think of Brock M. Hoffman?”
“He’s a dick,” she said, matter-of-factly. “I’m not just saying that because he’s left-winged, but he’s always come across as an arrogant dullard with absolutely no clue what he’s doing. I doubt he’s ever fired a gun in his life, but he’s leading us in this war? It’s pathetic really. I sure as hell didn’t vote him in.”
“Do you think they’ll kill him?”
“Yeah, probably. Doesn’t matter if they get the information or not, the Brits will kill Hoffman regardless.”
Ash suspected the same thing.
“Even though I really couldn’t care less about our president, I know I have a duty to uphold,” continued Ivy. “I might be blind, but I’m not dead. I’m ready to fight the Brits and defend my home. I’m counting on you to help me, Ash.”
She then stuck her hand out in front of him. He sealed a hand around hers and shook on it. He knew the promise would always be broken, but Ash had come too far along in his lie to change his mind now.
“What do you suppose we do now, Ivy?”
“We need to go to Canberra, or at least one of the major cities.”
“We would be horribly outnumbered and probably killed on sight.”
“I know that, but we’re doomed to die anyway,” she replied. “Isn’t it better to die fighting than hiding away like cowards?”
Ash never gave a reply. She was focused on combat, but Ash was playing a game of strategy. He was sure Ivy knew more about Operation Endurance than she let on, and surely members of the RAAF had been briefed on the topic at some point.
If he could pull the information out of her, Ash could contact his own army and rightfully restore his dignity. He could be a war hero. He could immortalise himself in history.
Ash needed to convince Ivy to spill her secrets.