AX50 Page 3

  Sinto said, “Her vast memory banks are cooled deep inside the mountain. Science and calculation are simple for her, but she is less good at deciphering human motivations. She finds ethical, emotional and political decisions difficult. That’s why Commander Spitzen and her board of advisers are so important.”

  I was shown the lift which led to the research areas and fusion reactor, but these were off-limits to me.

  We then went down to the coast to see the robot-controlled factories on the artificial island. This was still growing as slag continued to be washed down from the mines. Off the southern coast of the island, I was taken to a lift where Commissioner visitors were allowed to descend in glass spheres to a depth of twenty metres. There I marvelled at corals that had been artificially seeded onto sunken rocks thirteen years ago and were now teeming with colourful creatures. On the west side of the island, I was shown a fenced-off area where the army barracks was sited. Sinto explained how the clones, who lived there, came into existence.

  “Xantec was asked by the USA to investigate whether there were any blood or DNA changes that could explain why some soldiers exhibited more bravery and loyalty than others. Of course, there were no such simple explanations. We were given many fresh blood samples linked to specific soldiers with their known characteristics attached. One happened to be from a highly intelligent navy seal who had been awarded the ‘medal of honour’ after dying trying to save a colleague in Afghanistan in 2035. We used cells taken from his blood to produce clones. These embryos were then carried by paid surrogates. There are now thousands of these clones who are our policemen and soldiers. You’ll often be on missions with droid soldiers and clones. Never rely on droids as they can’t react quickly enough to rapidly changing situations. They are expendable as they come off the production line every day. The clones are human and take twenty years to develop and train. You’ll not be popular if you lose any of these great warriors.”

  “That’s enough for one day. You’ll be in Chile for three days from tomorrow.”

  I returned home full of enthusiasm. I enjoyed a glass of Malbec with Dad as we discussed my future as a ‘reactor’. I told him I was going to Chile for three days to get a feel for the country. He gave me his take on Chile.

  He concluded, “Enjoy your introduction, Zig, but Mom and I worry that you will soon have to deal with some serious criminals. Try to find some clones you trust and then form a close bond with them for your mutual protection.”

  I retired to my apartment and experimented with my Xan-link. If I thought hard about a place, vivid pictures would appear. I could zoom in and out at will. I guessed that Xanasa was connected to hundreds of geostationary satellites with very powerful cameras.

  I concentrated on my friend Charco, but nothing happened, so perhaps it only worked on humans if they had a chip inserted. I tried Petra; blank. I guessed I wasn’t able to spy on other Commissioners. I then tried Maria. I felt I was prying; but curiosity overcame guilt. I wish that I hadn’t looked as I was overwhelmed with shame as a handsome man handed her a crying child which she proceeded to breastfeed. Why on earth had she agreed to come back to my flat that night? Had I forced her? Was she afraid of a Commissioner’s power? I was angry with myself for getting so drunk that I’d no recollection of the latter part of that evening. I vowed never to get so drunk again, and I would never sleep with non-Commissioners in case the girls felt coerced.

  My thoughts drifted to Petra and I wondered what she was doing. Of course, I couldn’t contact her over my Xan-link as her mother would be onto that in a flash. I longed for her to get in touch. I could only wait as she understood the intricacies of the CRC surveillance system. It was with sadness and remorse that I requested Jas to cuddle me as I drifted off to sleep.

  The following day, Sinto told me that I would be staying with three different Chilean families to help me understand the people that I would be trying to protect.

  The first night, I stayed with a wheat farmer in the Lake District. They welcomed me into their modern comfortable house. They were very pleased to have free electricity. Mr Fernandez continued, “Before Xantec came to Chile, we used to live in an old rustic farmhouse. It may have looked quaint, but the roof leaked and it was draughty and cold. Thanks to the new GM seed, we now produce more wheat than ever and we only use half of our land. We plan to create a wildlife reserve on the remainder. This area has a river running into a lake situated near the mountains in the east. We will eventually build eco-lodges and welcome tourists to this park.”

  “Do you have any children?” I asked.

  “Just Christobal; he’s eight. He has to travel fifty kilometres to school twice a week. The rest of the time, he attends a virtual school. He’ll be home soon. It’s a shame that they have to travel so far, but most of our friends are only having one or two children. All the local schools have closed.”

  I checked with Xanasa and indeed, on average, the population of CASAR was falling by 2% a year. The ageing population were now largely looked after by droids, who of course did most of the menial work as well. Factories were largely automated, so society could cope. However, in these isolated places, I thought it must be hard for children to find enough friends to play with.

  The second night, I stayed with a family whose menfolk had once been fishermen in Valparaiso before the fish stocks plummeted. The old town had been lovingly restored and was now a tourist mecca. Their thirty-year-old son, Juan, had upgraded his trawler to take tourists whale watching and sport fishing. The father ran a tilapia farm. Both businesses were thriving.

  Mrs Herrera complained, “It’s all very well for them to be out happily enjoying themselves, but where are my grandchildren? I wish Juan would find himself a wife.”

  My final night was with the President who lived in a tall tower block overlooking the metropolis of Santiago. From his front room, the snow-capped Andes appeared to be gold tinted, reflecting the evening sun. I felt privileged to have the benefit of his assessment of the country’s progress. He felt genuinely grateful for the help that Xantec had provided.

  “I love to watch the different seasons with the sun providing light shows on the tops of our lovely mountains. Before Xantec arrived, they were a ghostly presence, glimpsed, if you were lucky, through thick smog. Xantec has been good for us, but I fear we are getting lazy and fat as droids and robots do all our hard work. I fear for our health and self-esteem.”

  I returned to CRC and reported back to Sinto. He said that obesity was a growing problem throughout CASAR. Xanasa and the Board had decreed that by 2053, all roads in CASAR would be converted into walking and cycle tracks. The roads would be sealed in recycled plastic mixed with rubber. The Board’s plan was to scrap electric cars, forcing people to use bicycles for local journeys. There would be drone taxis to take them to hyperloop stations. Processed food would be low in fat, sugar and carbohydrates. The Board hoped that these measures, combined with intensive education, might reverse the obesity epidemic.

  The next day was a harsh introduction into working as a ‘reactor’. A new drone factory in the Atacama Desert had been attacked by protesters. The droids at the factory had repaired the surrounding fence and had the line functioning once more, but the perpetrators hadn’t been apprehended. The ambassador replayed me satellite images overlaid with the chip locations of the vandals. Initially, they sped off towards Chacarilla in two 4x4s. They stopped in the middle of nowhere, and within two minutes, their chips disappeared. During the previous night, Xanasa had used infra-red imaging from space. Although many animals showed up in the area, there were no humans.

  “Something of a puzzle, Zig. I’ve found in the past that a reactor on the ground can often sort this out. How do you fancy taking a look?”

  It turned out to be a rhetorical question. As there were three saboteurs, I was advised to take twenty droid soldiers. Remembering my dad’s advice, I asked for and received permission to take two clone
soldiers as well. I was assigned Gregor and Sandy who, of course, looked identical, distinguishable only by their name tags. We took the hyperloop to Iquique. As I travelled, Xanasa informed me that there were no known caves or mine shafts in the area. We took off in three drones and were soon landing in a swirl of sand. Suffocating heat enveloped us as we left the air-conditioned aircraft. The 4x4s were still there, but empty. The whole area was barren and deserted. I remembered from my history lessons that in the Vietnam War, Americans had sometimes stepped over camouflaged tunnel entrances and were mercilessly killed from behind. If there were deep tunnels, then their chips wouldn’t be detectable. I set the droids to bang the area with their gun butts to see if they heard metal which might be manhole covers under the sand. The clones clothed in their ‘stealth’ suits (which took on the appearance of whatever lay behind them) looked like sand ghosts watching over us. They’d chosen to stay by the drones. Sweating like a pig, I went back to collect ground-sonar equipment. I was just lifting it when I heard gunfire, and four droids were turned into a load of scrap. I hadn’t expected automatic fire. Sandy shouted at me to get into the drone. Gregor grabbed my outstretched hand and hauled me in. With maximum thrust, we were soon high above the area, watching helplessly as the rest of the droids were mowed down. I could now see some bushes at the base of a cliff that had previously been hidden by a dune. My database said there was some limestone in the area, and I surmised there might be a cave, possibly caused by an underground stream that still fed the bushes. I scrambled to get my own stealth suit on as I asked Sandy how we should deal with this. He clearly deferred to Gregor who answered.

  “No problem, sir, we’ll land at the top of the cliff. You circle round one way and Sandy will take the other side. As you both pin them down, I’ll abseil down the cliff and throw a sonic bomb into what you believe will be a cave.”

  Shit! I wished now that I hadn’t sounded so certain about the cave. I didn’t want to muck up my first mission.

  I’d no choice, “Okay, let’s do it.”

  We jumped out as the drone hovered perilously close to the edge of the cliff. As my feet hit the ground, Sandy was already circling downwards and left. I sprinted off, realising that we needed to open fire simultaneously. I cursed as a thorn bush ripped my leg as I charged down the steep slope. I’d never been so fired up in my life. I stopped and carefully rounded the base of the cliff. I could just make out a dusky yellow spectral presence crouched down beyond what I hoped was a cave entrance. Behind the bushes were barricades, on top of which I could see three gun barrels pointing down to where the droids were still burning. Acrid smoke filled the air as their ‘skin’ smouldered. Binoculars and some black hair appeared just behind the barrier. High above, a sky blue phantom was starting down the cliff. I gave the signal and a barrage of fire splintered the barricades. The guns disappeared. We continued to fire until Gregor was above the cave entrance, and watched as he threw a canister inside. There was a second of absolute silence and then a deafening boom shook the ground, sending rocks crashing down the cliff. Dust filled the air. I found it hard to breathe and my eyes were full of grit. I was deafened by the blast but forced myself towards the swirling dust that was spewing out of the cave. Sandy and I rounded the barricades. As the dust slowly settled, we saw the shapes of dun-coloured limbs poking out from a pile of rocks and debris. Clearing the rocks, we found the three men, along with their ancient AK47s. They all had dribbles of dusty blood coming from their ears. Two of them looked relatively intact. The third had a shaft of wood sticking out of his right calf. Without a moment’s pause, Gregor had whipped this out and stemmed the rhythmical spurting of arterial blood with a tourniquet. He injected him with antibiotics.

  “Sir, we need to get them cuffed. They’ll wake in a few minutes.”

  Sure enough, they woke soon after but were completely dazed, deaf and unable to support themselves. The clones were immensely strong and soon manoeuvred them into the drones.

  -----

  Back at CRC, Sinto praised me. “A good first day’s work; I’m sure you know that we’ll deduct the cost of those droids from your pay cheque.”

  I was incensed by this callous injustice, until I noticed a glimmer of a smile.

  “Get yourself home; you’ve earnt your xanacea. Make sure you’re fully awake tomorrow.”

  I’d heard about xanacea, which was said to be the most awesome mind-blowing drug, and which was distributed after dangerous missions. It was held securely in CRC and ambassadors had to sign it out. My Xan-link informed me that it attached to opiate receptors and simultaneously blocked the reuptake of serotonin. I now understood what Dad had meant by getting information without being any the wiser.

  That evening, I couldn’t relax. Images of the terrifying destruction of the droids kept repeating as if on a continuous loop of film. I was apprehensive about taking xanacea. I requested Jas to stay with me in case I became ill. I settled down with some music to discover how I would react. Absolutely nothing! I was enjoying the music and was trying to decide whether to turn in early, when I was overcome with the certainty that I was loved and valued by my parents, siblings and friends. Suddenly I was transported to the banks of a crystal clear river filled with beautiful fish that cascaded down a waterfall, plummeting into a deep, cool pool surrounded by jungle. Petra lay naked on a bed of moss in a nearby shelter and beckoned me to join her. I woke with Jas shaking me hard, saying I would be late for work. She gave me brist (xanacea’s antidote) and coffee to wake me up.

  No hangover! Indeed, I was brimming with enthusiasm. If I get xanacea after each dangerous mission, bring them on!

  At CRC, they’d given the prisoners veritax. This induces sleep and causes their brains to relive the pivotal events of the last three days as if the subjects were dreaming. While they sleep, a PET scan*5 of their brain function is taken. Xanasa interpreted the scans and was able to give us a good idea of what they’d been doing and their motives. It was a boring morning while we waited for the results, but it gave me a chance to get to know my colleagues. I was pleased to learn that Charco had been appointed to the Chilean division and would join us in a couple of weeks.

  Xanasa’s interpretation was ready. There was nothing that we didn’t already know about the attack and the battle. However, we learnt that they were being forced to make the attack by the owner of an electric car plant who was afraid that the use of taxi-drones would put him out of business. They’d been too afraid to tell us as this man was holding their cousin hostage. They were in no doubt that their cousin would die if they grassed on their bullying employer.

  Once they were fully awake, Sinto interrogated them. He invited me to sit in. He was surprisingly kind and sympathetic. I’d expected him to throw the book at them for destroying our droids and trying to kill me.

  “I fully understand why you did this. If someone threatened to kill my cousin, I would’ve done the same. We’ll set you free with no punishment as long as you help us capture your tyrannical boss and free your cousin.”

  “That’ll be impossible. Our cousin is held in a secure cellar with a steel door. There are always four armed guards in the house and two are always awake.”

  Carlos Santos, a renowned bully, was the owner of the car business. They pinpointed his house in the hills overlooking Santiago. From satellite images, we could see a modern monstrosity surrounded by a considerable garden. Sinto thanked them and told the droid guards to fetch them whatever food they wanted.

  Back in the Chilean control room, we observed a holographic image of the house and grounds. It was a huge rectangle made of steel and bulletproof glass. There were only four chips (meaning four legal adults) showing up in the house. Either one of the guards was absent, or the cellar with its reinforced ceilings and door blocked transmission from the chip that belonged to our prisoners’ cousin. On balance, we thought the latter was most likely. It was lunchtime and Carlos was probably elsewhere. There was
no time to lose as he must know that we’d captured his saboteurs, and their cousin would now be in imminent danger.

  “Would you like to take this on, Zig?”

  “Sure, as long as Gregor and Sandy are free to help me.”

  I’d decided to dispense with droids as I feared they would just get in the way. I radioed ahead to have a suitably equipped drone waiting for us. As we were approaching Santiago, Sinto, who had remained in CRC, informed me that a fifth chip had appeared on his screen. Ten minutes later, the drone delivered us to the grounds of Carlos’s house. It was a very clear night and surprisingly chilly. We switched on our night vision glasses and with our gear on our backs, we crept silently towards the house. From my Xan-link, I’d been checking on the movements of the chips. Downstairs, two were stationary and so I guessed they were asleep; the other two only moved occasionally and must be the duty guards. Upstairs, there was another motionless chip, which I hoped was Carlos, asleep. We would need two access points. Gregor climbed onto Sandy’s shoulders and I passed up the laser cutter. This silently melted the steel wall adjacent to where we reckoned Carlos was sleeping. We repeated this downstairs, hoping that the guards wouldn’t smell the molten metal. We heard a scrape of a chair through the hole we’d made. I feared for a moment that the guards had rumbled us, but then we heard the unmistakable slap of cards hitting a flat surface. This time, I stood on Sandy’s shoulders; Gregor, meanwhile, was by the ground floor hole. We slipped sonic bombs through the two holes simultaneously and sprinted towards the bushes. We were deafened as the blast shattered the bulletproof glass.