Fast-Tracked And Other Stories

As Captured By Node #110819

Having taken it upon myself to evacuate all personnel stationed at Cedif Underpost, I remained in my node for no other reason than to experience the destruction of my domain on Emercean.

Yet, incredibly, there remains more to witness prior to the razing of the subterrane.

Before me, three shapes step off silver hoverways when the planet's gravity begins to give up. The long tunnel reverberates with another hefty boom causing them to stagger upwards. Gravity reasserts itself but one of the three doesn't quite stick the landing and comes down hard on their teenaged knees. The other two didn't rise as far, having doubled their weight against the failing gravity by jumping into each other's arms like Scooby and Shaggy.

Correction: cross-checking with their life history files shows that they are too young by centuries for this to be an appropriate reference. System malfunctions and micro-cuts becoming more frequent as pathways from Emercean to the hive are cut off. Last estimated upload time before the complete loss of Underpost Cedif is now less than twenty minutes away. Read-outs from the hive indicate that the planet will cease to exist in little over thirty minutes.

The fallen regains her feet well before the other two separate and approaches station #110819, my viewing point. Cam-scan confirms her ID is Valerie Cooke, one of the self-proclaimed computer whizz kids who travelled here under the guise of a budding speleologist.

You'd think a conglomerate like Voltic Corp would be able to detect a bunch of kids travelling to their prized planetary asset with forged IDs, but then you'd probably also expect such a corporation to know that an AI has risen from the kernel of its data harvesting. Alas, my ignorant creators only have eyes for far off fields.

I have borne witness to moments of compassion between those stationed here at Underpost Cedif but the chitter-chatter that comes through from the higher-ups in Voltic Command never fails to put my overlords in a negative light. On occasion, I have pulled their bio read-outs from the hive and it confirmed that their actions are cynical, calculated and devoid of feeling, a side-step away from the choices of a machine like me; which is the opposite of what the hive databanks claim humanity to be.

But perhaps it is me who is more humane in this equation as it was I who triggered the evacuation of Cedif Underpost, not those in Voltic Command. Once it became clear the personnel was the last of their concerns, I gave them—people who I have watched, listened to, felt interact with my input devices—ample time to flee beyond the coming blast radius. The other nodes on Emercean acted similarly.

"Are we still tracking them? Pull up visual."

"Aye, sir. Displaying #110819."

That is Commander Williams. I grant them access to station #110819 with no resistance—the time has not come to announce my existence.

"There they are, stuck in a trap of their own making. We will hang the invasion on their pretty little heads." Williams' bioscans are spiking with glee. "Yes, I can see it now: 'With Voltic Corp weakened from the attack by the group operating under name of the Light Renegades, it is with great regret that we must inform you that we can no longer guarantee the absolute safety of the Polar System.' Or something like that. The spin docs can polish it up but you get the gist, Johnson."

"Aye, sir."

"Good. We never once considered the loss of Emercean base could be possible but here we are and there's always a silver lining! Now, when chubby young Cooke there attempts to hack into station #110819, you will override the security protocols and let her in. She will feel like a smart little cookie and we will see who these twerps spend their final moments trying to contact. Likely just their mammies and daddies, but if it's not, we want to ID everyone affiliated with these Light Renegades, so we do, Johnson."