Machine God: A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller (20 page)

I had no clue where I was.

But the tunnels were calling me, so I said,

“We check the corridors.”

No one protested, no one intervened.

Even wounded Nathan accepted my decision with a faint nod. All animosity between us had vanished, and only the will to survive remained.

At least for now.

I took charge and entered the nearest tunnel with the survivors behind me.

We stepped into uncertainty.

61

Even in the tunnels, you could hear the storm blowing over the streets. The walls vibrated, dust pebbles rolled down the crevices.

“What kind of storm is that?”

Ann-Lyze looked at me during the walk.

“You seriously don’t know?”

“Nah, I’ve never experienced a storm before. I woke up in a ruin not too long ago."

I paused as I retold the story for the umpteenth time.

"My memory is wiped out.”

“Sandstorms come in different intensities, ranging from terrible to terror.”

“Is that a scientific assessment?”

“It’s my personal assessment. You don’t want to be out in the streets, or even in a ruin, when one occurs. Back when we lived in the mall, there was a category 3 sandstorm approaching us. Our group had just entered the parking space when the storm picked up. It whirled up the wreckages and turned them into dangerous projectiles. One of my friends was ripped apart. I saw his body shredding into bloody pieces as the sandstorm sucked him in.”

Terrifying story. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. We all have to deal with losses. Unfortunately.”

I nodded and inspected the rest of our team. The soldier and the diggers staggered but kept up. Nathan didn’t fare so well—he needed assistance from Ann-Lyze and coughed up more blood. 

Well, at least down here, we were safe.

The soldier remained stiff. He carried a Viper 15mm and hovered his armored hand over the holster. 

Memo to myself—watch that guy. 

In dire circumstances, some people freaked out and went berserk. My idea was to ask for the soldier’s firearm, but I waited until the tension in the group resided. The adrenaline from the fall still roared. 

The shock still simmered in our veins.

“Where exactly are we going?” one of the diggers said to me after twenty minutes.

“Don’t know. We’re looking for a possible exit to the surface.”

“And then? How do we get back to base? The superior and his men probably took the APC and returned to the cluster.”

He lost hope with every new statement.

“Do you think they’re calling for backup?”

“Possible.”

Not. 

The so-called superior didn’t even hand me his grapple gun. It was unlikely he'd tell his higher-ups to send a dispatch after us.

It was even more unlikely the Bulwarks would waste resources to search for a stranger with no name, a soldier and two diggers. Only Ann-Lyze seemed to be of value.

Ann-Lyze. 

For the first time, I realized I could talk to her. 

A private one-on-one session to light through my murky past. Wasn’t the whole reason to join this mission to squeeze out information?

Heck, Glitch worked out his hacker magic to put me into her digging group. 

This was my chance to debunk this world's mysteries.

Ann-Lyze looked up her father with worried eyes. 

Maybe now wasn’t the right moment.

Soon.

We turned around the corner and heard our foot steps echoing in the endless tunnels. After an hour of marching through the underground rubble, we found a shaft with a steel ladder. It led way up, probably to the surface. I raised my right fist, which halted the group’s advance.

“Let’s check if the sandstorm is still raging.”

Next to us was a small tunnel section with adjacent rooms. Maybe a station where folks worked at aeons ago.

I said, 

“You set up camp here and wait for me. Take some rest.”

“And you?” Ann-Lyze said.

“I’m going to climb up and check for the storm.”

"Let me join you. I'm pretty knowledgable about sandstorms."

“No, you take care of your father. I got this.”

Everyone abided. Nathan was too tired to talk. The soldier didn't want to schlepp his heavy armor up the shaft, and the diggers? Weakened by the fall.

When the group settled down in the section, I wiped my hands and climbed up the ladder.

I could have easily shot the grapple gun, but the shaft was tight and I didn’t want to bounce from wall to wall while getting pulled up by the cable. 

So I mounted the ladder, one dusty breath at a time.

Damn, how tall was this thing?

The way up looked as far away as the glance down. 

Stair after stair, I mounted the giant ladder and reached the top. A hatch awaited me, together with an engraved warning sign: open only in case of emergency.

With my ears pressed against the hull, I closed my eyes and listened. Vibrations shook up the metal, a muffled whistle sounded through. 

The storm was well alive.

I hoped this one didn’t last for days as Ann-Lyze and Nathan had guessed. We didn’t have enough water and rations for days. My glance fell into the abyss below me. 

I stepped the looong way down and finally reached the tunnel ground after half an eternity of climbing. The group had set up a resting place. A half-way blown up wall made for a perfect niche to camp. The second I entered the sight of my group, Ann-Lyze and the diggers launched from their positions.

“And?”

“The sandstorm is still blasting over our heads.”

Everyone slumped their shoulders.

“Maybe that’s a good thing. We’re all exhausted and need time to rejuvenate. In a few hours, I’ll check again.”

That idea seemed to find approval. 

I did a quick inventory check.

We had three one liter canisters with water, two and a half rations, one grapple gun, one Dust Viper 15mm with three mags, and the gear we still carried on our sweaty bodies. Enough to last at least a day or two. I walked toward the tunnel’s wall and slid down, taking a few breaths of the dust-covered air. Relaxed my muscles as much as possible and watched the actions of my team.

Ann-Lyze had found a torn-apart cloth and covered her weak father with the make-shift blanket. Kissed his forehead and rested by his side.

With my legs crossed in lotus position, I rested my arms on my knee caps and waited for the right moment to approach her.

62

The diggers mumbled to the soldier who played with his Dust Viper. He fumbled around the firearm like a bored child messing with its toy. A toy with enough firepower to splatter our heads wide open. 

Something in the distance trickled, maybe an open pipe.

Going plop, plop.

The dusty air reeked of concrete and filled my lungs.

Probably annoying at some point, but I spent my attention on Ann-Lyze, and on Ann-Lyze alone.

The darkness hid my glance from her, otherwise I would have looked like a stalker. When Nathan sounded asleep, I crawled from my position and neared Ann-Lyze in slow steps. Knelt next to her and watched her father's silent face.

“How’s it looking?”

She wiped his sweat-ridden forehead with a piece of the cloth.

“He’s very weak. I think he might have some fractures, or at least fissures. Thank tech I disinfected the wound and injected a quickheal. Let’s hope for the best.”

“Yes.”

That's the only word I could add.

For a while, I just watched Ann-Lyze fostering her father, but when the silence became awkward, my mouth opened.

“You work in the Bulwark’s R&D section, right?”

“Yes.”

“What exactly are you working on?”

She spied around, possibly looking for eavesdroppers. The soldier was engaged with the diggers and sat at least ten meters away from us. They'd never hear us, until they wore some kind of hearing aid.

“Don’t worry, there’s no security cam, and certainly no Konforma around.”

It was delivered tongue-in-cheek, but Ann-Lyze wasn't in the mood for jokes.

“Bulwark will take away my rights if I tell you."

That was possible. Heck, they took away my rations just because I was slipping out some sarcasm. 

“Truth is, we might never see the Bulwark again. They're probably not looking for us, and without the APC, we don't stand a chance traversing the desert of the Lost Lands."

A horrendous statement that made Ann-Lyze swallow hard.

But it also meant she didn't have much to fear.

The cluster was hundreds of kilometers away.

Ann-Lyze pushed herself closer to me and said,

“I was studying the tech rubble and artifacts the Bulwark recon teams had accumulated over the years.”

Tech artifacts here was that word again.

Only this time, I had the liberty to follow up.

“What exactly are these artifacts?”

She lowered her volume but I could still hear every single word.

“They’re remnants from the Great Collision. Precious technology that lies buried in the Lost Lands. Everyone tries to find operative parts that can be used to gain a technological advantage over the enemy."

“Everyone?”

“The Bulwarks, the Technoids, the scavengers. And countless other factions. With so few resources around, everything becomes precious. Especially the artifacts.”

I nodded and listened to her voice with care.

“You have seen the Technoid’s armor and their weapons, right?” Ann-Lyze said.

“Yeah. I even got shot by one.”

My right finger pointed at the ribcage where the pulsar beam had strived me.

“It was a nasty energy weapon. A comrade of mine had been badly injured by it as well.”

Ann-Lyze nodded.

“The Technoid’s armor, their beam weapons…even those flying robot things they use for surveillance…they're all scavenged from the artifacts.”

“How do you know?”

“I’ve done lots of research. It has become my life obsession to study the technology of our dark days."

“So these artifacts come from the Great Collision? Who built them?”

“The official version claims that private military corporations, commissioned by nations and wealthy entities, have fought proxy wars for Earth's dwindling resources. They apparently built these semi-intelligent WMDs that caused the wasteland we find ourselves in."

“But you don’t believe that?”

“I’m not the only one. Many independent scientists and researchers around the world came up with other theories because of the many holes in the official version.” 

“Such as?”

“The artifacts. Have you ever seen an operative unit up close?”

“No.”

“They look unlike anything we’ve ever seen before. And I know the history of military technology. I followed the innovation feeds for years. I devoured every little detail about ground-breaking defense manufacturers like DARPA and Stryker Solutions. Impressive and terrible inventions, but not even close to the sheer power of the tech artifacts. They are in a league of their own.”

That was possible. 

Powerful weapons had always been created in the shadow of the public eye. 

“What are you implying?”

She looked at me with narrowed eyes. I could swear her cheek colors changed, although it was hard to tell in this darkness.

“This is a crazy, crazy rumor.”

“Spit it.”

“Some scientists believed they are of alien origin.”

“Alien? Like life forms from other planets?”

She hushed me.

“According to the legend, an advanced alien race entered our solar system and tried to communicate with us via their machines. Well, our ancestors misunderstood the message and answered with weapons. Hence the Great Collision.”

“Sounds crazy.”

“I know, right? But then you see these artifacts and wonder—no human being could have possibly created them.”

She looked past my shoulder.

“There was another group of humans who also believed in that theory. In fact, they believed in it so much, they created their own tech religion around it. They even renamed the aliens.”

She paused.

“As far as I know, the Technoids believe the aliens, or ‘Machine God’ as they call them, are the saviors leading humanity to a better place.”

“Sounds like someone took the wrong drugs,” I said.

“Maybe. But there are so many legends about the old days, who knows what’s right and what isn’t? Fact is, the tech artifacts are unlike anything we have ever seen before, so the theory that they are of alien origin does have merit. If you look at all the classified military report feeds from the old war, the theory becomes even more sound. Humans couldn’t have possible built anything like it.”

In the distance, the diggers increased their voices. They became impatient and probably disliked our secret conversation. Before I turned around, Ann-Lyze touched my hand.

“But don’t tell anyone. No one is supposed to know about these rumors.”

“Does the Bulwark know about them?”

She hesitated.

“My lips are sealed, I promise.”

She nodded and looked back at Nathan who awoke from his weakened state. The old man pushed out a faint smile.

“Have you guys been talking about me?”

I smiled.

“Your daughter has told me your most embarrassing stories."

“What?”

The weird remark eased up the situation.

Nathan held his daughter’s hand and stroked her palm. 

Another father-daughter moment happened, and it was time for me to hit the tunnel. I patted Ann-Lyze’s shoulder and moved up.

“Well, thanks for the info. I’m going to check on the others.”

“You do that.”

With my back turned to them, I approached the diggers and the soldier playing with his 15mm. As soon as I entered their little circle, the soldier craned his helmed head and said,

“We’re going to die down here, aren’t we?”

63

I replied fast.

“Yes. We’re going to die.”

The answer shocked everyone in the circle.

“But not today. And not down here.”

“So what’s the plan, leader,” one of the diggers said, half-mockingly.