I Am Automaton

Chapter 18

Carl returned from his visit with his father refreshed and energized. He submitted to the neurological testing that Captain London ordered.

He lay down and was pulled into the MRI. It was tight, reminding him of a coffin, but he wasn’t dead yet. The sensation caused him mild discomfort, but it quickly passed.

The voice of the technician talked into his ear. “We are going to begin. It should take approximately twenty minutes. Are you okay?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Now remember, it is important that you do not move.”

“Okay.”

Within seconds, the machine began to bang all around him. It began with a series of five bangs and then six clicks, five bangs and six clicks, and on and on. He closed his eyes, hoping the time would pass quickly.

The sequence of bangs and clicks eventually turned into a rat-tat-tat, like the sound of a machine gun. With his eyes closed, scenes of Tijuana and Xcaret flooded into his mind.

He saw Peter firing his gun in training, and then he saw him one last time before entering the ventilation shaft. He heard the yelling and gunfire of the terrorists by the Convention Center.

When he was pulled out of the MRI, he was rigid and pale as a ghost.

“We’re done. Are you alright, sir?”

Carl sat up and nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

He picked up with the training exercises. Another week passed, and they had mastered live insurgents and surprise attacks, moving targets, and cave extractions. In fact, the extractions became simpler as the ID simply followed Carl out of the simulated “caves” like he was the Pied Piper and kindly collected themselves back into their crate.

Carl found himself back in Major Lewis’ office making quite the unusual request.

“You want to do what?” Major Lewis gasped.

“I want the ID to come from the bodies of victims from the terrorist attacks.”

“You must be…do you know how difficult…we can’t just ask their families for their bodies,” Major Lewis said horrified.

“Any organ donors?”

“Organ donors. Captain, what you are talking about is a little more than organ donation.”

“Well, where do we get these bodies from, anyway?”

“That’s classified.”

Carl sat forward menacingly. “Did you forget our arrangement?”

“Listen, I can’t tell you everything.”

“Try me.”

“Let’s just say that some of them are our citizens. Some are bodies presumed missing from the rubble of past attacks. Some are the bodies of indigents without any family.”

“So bodies can be exposed to the virus posthumously. And the rest?”

“Remember when the Camp X-Ray of the Guantanamo Bay holding facility was shut down?”

“Yes.”

“Well, let’s just say that it never really shut down.”

Carl sat back and smiled widely, barely hiding his amusement. “So you mean to tell me that we’re training the corpses of terrorists to hunt their own down?”

Major Lewis nodded.

“I love it!” Carl laughed. “This’ll be another great PR piece when it goes public.”

“Public? I don’t know if it can ever go public.”

“Trust me, after we hit the caves of Afghanistan without expending American lives and bring back the heads of dozens of those tunnel rats cowering in the mountains, the public will be behind us every step of the way. Maybe not the bleeding hearts, but most everyone else.”

“Captain Birdsall, I don’t know if there is a right way to spin all of this, even with good results.”

Carl was losing patience. “Then why the hell did you get involved with this, anyway? To turn the tables. This isn’t like dropping the A-bomb on soft targets. You don’t get any more precise than what we’re doing. We’re not raiding villages, raping women, and looting. We’re going into the caves, away from any innocents. Sure, it’s ugly. But we’re talking about terrorists. Political correctness is wavering, and the world is finally trying to find a way to deal with them.”

“I know. This is what we’ve been working towards. But when you talk about bringing back heads and then publicizing it all…”

“No mercy. They don’t show us any mercy. Shit, they’re hitting soft targets. Not us.”

“I know. I know. You’re preaching to the choir. But the public…the media won’t be won over so easily. Let’s run our first mission in Afghanistan, see how it goes.”

“My men are almost ready. We don’t have any of the old problems with the humpers.”

“But there’s your…ability.”

“Yeah, what about it?”

“We haven’t done enough testing. We don’t even know if it’s stable.”

“What do you mean stable? Of course it’s stable. Why wouldn’t it be stable?”

“How are you so certain that it is stable? Do you even know how you are doing it?”

Carl shrugged it off.

“You shouldn’t be so glib about it, Captain. What if we sent you into combat based on all of your training with your ability, and then it stops or wears off? American soldiers can get hurt.”

Carl couldn’t believe what he was hearing. This “ability” was exactly the break they were waiting for, and now this bureaucrat wanted to wait some more. “This is our chance! What if it does wear off? My men are prepared just in case. We still have the AI kill switches. We still have all of the safety measures in place.”

“We just need to tread carefully.”

“We need to mobilize soon. How many more attacks on soft targets on U.S. soil do we have to endure before we strike back?”

Major Lewis knew the kid was right. This was why he got involved with the ID Program in the first place. They had come so far, there was no turning back now, and he knew it.

“We will mobilize soon. Work out all of the bugs. Get your platoon in tiptop shape. We won’t have a second chance. Xcaret almost shut us down permanently.”

“Xcaret won’t happen again,” Carl snapped. “We have good men this time. I chose them, not you.”

Despite the major breach in protocol in addressing a superior officer, Major Lewis let it slide. The kid was their best chance at implementing the program, and he was right.

“Dismissed, Captain Birdsall.”

Carl stood up, saluted, and left Lewis’ office all charged up. Major Lewis had to admit that the kid got him all fired up as well. Not only had he gotten the platoon functioning at an optimal level, but Carl and his ability was beginning to become the stuff of legend.

All of the other men looked up to him. They both admired and feared his leadership with the men and the ID. There was a new energy disseminating amongst the ranks, and for once, soldiers were beginning to believe that they might actually win this war.

The man was fierce, determined, and had a good command over his platoon. He inspired confidence and boosted morale. For such a young man he was a natural born leader.

Major Lewis was jarred from his private reverie by a call from Captain London. “Yes, Captain. What can I do for you?”

“I’m holding the results of Captain Birdsall’s MRI.”

“How does it look?”

“I think we should meet in person, sir.”

“Why? What’s wrong?”

Captain London was hesitant on the other line. “Would you like me to come to your office, sir?”

“No, Captain, I’ll come to you. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“Very good, sir.”

He terminated the call. What could the MRI have shown that she was unwilling to discuss over the phone? He got up from his chair, straightened his uniform, and left his office, telling Mary that he would be at Captain London’s office on his way out.

***

“He has a tumor?” Major Lewis asked in disbelief.

“Yes,” replied Captain London, “in his temporal lobe. It’s quite large and extensively vascular.”

“So it would be difficult to excise via surgery?”

“Yes, Major, quite. But it’s pressing on his brain, particularly in areas heavily involved in speech and hearing.”

Major Lewis looked perplexed. “But his speech and hearing seem unaffected. I just had him in my office a few minutes ago.”

Captain London was reluctant to offer her explanation, which only exasperated Major Lewis.

“Oh, out with it, Captain. We’re talking about anti-terrorist zombies and a man who seems to control them with his mind. Nothing will shock me at this point.”

“Okay. Well, just because the tumor hasn’t detracted from his speech and hearing doesn’t mean that it hasn’t affected it.”

“You mean you think there’s a possibility that the tumor is enhancing his speech and hearing?”

“Think about it, Major. It makes sense. Maybe he can hear the ID, in an extra-sensory way, and perhaps he can communicate back with them using a similar pathway.”

“Jesus. You mean this large tumor allows him to talk to them? Is it dangerous? The tumor, I mean?”

“Yes. The neurologist states that it’s at an advanced stage of growth, and there’d be a significant risk in removing it.”

“And if it were to be removed, would he lose his ability to communicate with the ID?”

“Most likely, sir.”

Major Lewis appeared deep in thought, and Captain London thought she knew the direction his thoughts were taking. But little did she know that this was news to his ears.

“We have to tell him, sir.”

“Yes. Yes, I suppose we do.”

“He’ll have to decide whether or not to operate once he’s been given all of the facts.”

“I’d like to be present during this meeting with Captain Birdsall.”

Captain London knew this was a bad idea the moment she heard it. She knew that he was going to try to discourage Carl from consenting to operate on the tumor.

But, unbeknownst to her, Major Lewis’ motives were two-fold. True, the ID Program would certainly benefit from Carl’s ability to control the ID. But the prospect of Carl’s premature death meant that there would be no one else who knew of Major Lewis’ scandalous involvement with the Navajas. Carl would take it to his grave, and Major Lewis would be free from Carl’s constant threats of turning the ID on him.

“Sir, I don’t know if…”

“Are you refusing a commanding officer, Captain London?”

“No. No, sir. Of course not.”

“I also want this information to be kept confidential. If Captain Birdsall declines surgery, we don’t want to dissolve the mystique that his ability has cultivated around him. The program and morale would surely suffer.”

“I think I understand, sir,” Captain London said with a trace of disapproval.

“Captain, he’s a hero amongst the men, and he is going to change the face of the war on terror. If he chooses, we will preserve the legend.”

“Yes, sir.”

“So when are we having this meeting?”

“The neurologist is coming at 18:00. I was planning to hold the meeting in my office.”

Major Lewis stood so abruptly that Captain London nearly jumped out of her skin. “Excellent. I will see you at 18:00.” He turned and left her office.

Captain London sat behind her desk most displeased. That rattlesnake was going to attempt to convince Carl to decline surgery. She had to do her best to advocate for him. In the end it was indeed Carl’s decision, but she feared that the Major’s influence would be too strong.

She had to find a way to counteract Major Lewis so that Carl would make a decision in his own best interest. She had an idea…