Wolves

NINE

“So this is how the world ended,” Katrina whispered. She sat at her desk next to Michael, scrolling through the data Magnolia had uploaded and sent hours earlier. Timothy hovered behind them, hands at his sides, his glow filling the dim office with soft white light.

“I knew some of this already,” Michael said.

Katrina raised a brow. The timeline of Industrial Tech Corporation’s rise to power and its dominance throughout the world was mostly new to her.

“You knew that ITC was leading the charge to end the energy crisis?”

Michael tightened his ponytail. “Yes. From our experiences at the Hilltop Bastion, Layla and I were fully aware of the breakthrough scientific research ITC was doing before the war.”

He threw a sidelong glance at Timothy. “Thanks to our AI friend here. He also provided Layla and me some new information a few days ago, after I told him of Layla’s interest in the history of our species. You know, after Jordan purged most of it from the Hive.”

Katrina checked Timothy’s facial reactions. Something was off. The AI was an emotional entity. That much she knew from Magnolia’s description of his reaction to finding his family’s remains in the living quarters on this very airship.

But she had never actually questioned Timothy’s motives. Not until now.

He had saved their lives and helped them make Deliverance a home, even though his own family had died here. That had been good enough for Katrina. But what if his other program, on the Sea Wolf, had abandoned X and Mags? And what if Timothy’s program on the airships was hiding something from them?

His translucent eyes flitted to meet hers.

Normally, she could tell when to trust a human, but not an AI. Robots had no souls, even if they were based on the consciousness of a human who once lived.

The sound of explosions boomed from the monitor, and Katrina focused back on the screen, where fighter jets raced across the sky, missiles streaking away from their wings and sidewinding into dazzling scrapers that reached for the heavens.

Another scene showed tanks rolling down the cobblestone streets of London. Soldiers set up roadblocks and defensive positions behind walls of sandbags.

Next came the images of missiles bursting out of silos buried deep underground and curving into the sky.

“I’ve never seen this part,” Michael said. “This appears to be the final moments of our civilization.”

Katrina watched in horrified awe. Every missile that blazed across the screen had the potential to kill hundreds of thousands, maybe millions, of people. It was hard to imagine the destruction they were watching.

“Timothy, do you have anything like this in your database?” she said quietly.

“Not that I can access,” he replied, “but there are some restricted files that could possibly contain information like this.”

“Why can’t you access them?”

“I’m not sure.”

New York City, Paris, Rome, Tokyo, London, Moscow, Cairo, Jakarta, and dozens of other cities showed the moment of impact from the nuclear warheads. The blasts mushroomed in the sky, filling it with the radioactive poison and particulate matter that created the electrical storms.

Each explosion made Katrina flinch. She could take a lot. Hell, she had already survived a lot, but seeing humanity’s end for the first time was no easy thing.

She finally forced her gaze away and typed at the holo screen to pull up another file Magnolia had sent them.

“What’s that?” Michael asked.

A map of the Eastern Hemisphere came online with red lines arcing over different countries. Where the lines stopped, mini explosions bloomed across the map.

“Looks like a map of nuke detonations,” she replied. Clicking the screen, she sped up the video. Within minutes, the entire world was covered in a red overlay that represented the radiation and fallout zones. A second, green overlay came online.

“Those must be electrical storms,” Katrina said. She looked over her shoulder at Timothy, who still hovered behind them.

“What I don’t understand is how you wouldn’t know about this,” Katrina said. “You lived in the Hilltop Bastion before you transferred your consciousness over to the AI program.”

Timothy nodded. “That I did. But my life at the Hilltop Bastion, deep underground, was no different from yours in the sky. This happened two hundred sixty years ago, and the final days before the end were erased in the Blackout.”

“‘The Blackout’?” Michael asked.

Timothy waited a moment to respond. “We already know that most surviving communities and airships were not in communication with one another, due to the electrical disruption across the planet. This period is what is some refer to as the Blackout.”

“I’ve never heard of it before.”

“Nor I,” Katrina said.

There was a moment of silence while they both considered the implications. They had always known there was a missing chunk of history, and it was starting to make sense now.

Katrina continued scrolling through the data Magnolia had sent them. There were dozens of audio files. She selected one of them and pushed play. A deep male voice boomed from the speakers.

“This is Captain Marcus Bolter, broadcasting from the ITC Ashland at oh-one-hundred hours, Saturday, September 3, 2043. We’re currently one hundred and ten miles south of MacDill Air Force Base, drifting at twenty-three thousand feet. Something terrible has happened, and Command is not responding… what I know right now is the United States of America is under a full-fledged nuclear attack and our ship has taken severe damage from the spreading electrical storms. We’ve managed to stay in the air for now until we can find a place to put down. If anyone is out there, please, send us your coordinates and tell us what the…” They could hear the frustration in his voice. “Tell us what the hell is going on.”

Katrina clicked on the next audio clip.

“This is Captain Marcus Bolter, broadcasting from the ITC Ashland at oh-four-hundred hours on Sunday, September 4, 2043. We are sailing east to avoid an electrical storm caused from a massive nuclear blast in the heart of Florida. I finally received contact from someone at ITC Command, ordering me to launch our payload of nuclear missiles at several targets in Europe. With great sorrow, I have carried out those orders. God have mercy on our souls, and the souls of those we killed.”

The clips continued, each one showing more confusion among Bolter and his crew. They had changed course and were sailing farther out over the ocean to avoid the fallout from the mainland.

“They had no idea who they were fighting or why,” Michael said, incredulous. “The Blackout, or whatever it was called, must have created mass confusion.”

“I wonder if Command was even Command, and not an AI giving them false orders,” Katrina said as she played the next clip.

“This is Captain Marcus Bolter, broadcasting from the ITC Ashland at oh-six-hundred hours on Monday, September 5, 2043. We lost contact with Command yesterday and we haven’t been able to reach anyone else. The ship is losing altitude, and I have no choice but to try to find a place to land and make repairs. We’re currently lowering through the cloud cover, and—”

Static broke over the channel, lasting several minutes.

“My God,” Bolter said, his voice catching. “It’s gone… Everything is gone.”

Katrina looked over at Michael. “That was the last audio clip broadcast from the ITC Ashland.”

“They probably didn’t survive on the surface for long, especially if this was right after the attack.” Michael scooted his chair closer to the desk. “What else did Magnolia send us?”

“Here’s another video,” Katrina said. As she brought it online, she considered everything they had already learned. The video and audio clips all helped piece together the missing parts of the puzzle, but she still didn’t quite know the cause of the war—nor, apparently, had survivors such as Captain Bolter.

The screen flickered, and this time the tan face of a man in a lab coat came on-screen. He stroked his five o’clock shadow and seemed to force his eyes at the screen.

“My name is Dr. Julio Diaz,” the man stuttered. “I’m broadcasting from a top secret United States military laboratory off the coast of Cuba, code-named Red Sphere. I’ve recorded the final days of humanity in the hopes…”

He looked over his shoulder at a woman dressed in a full chemical, biological, radiological, and nuclear defense suit. Julio hesitated, then turned back to the screen.

“To be honest, I don’t know why I’m recording this. I don’t know why it matters. Humanity has come to an end. I’ve always thought that as a species, we would survive the unthinkable, but…” He ran a hand over his close-cropped hair. “Even this facility, which is deep underground, was not prepared for this. We do not have the food, water, or resources to live our lives in this… tomb.”

He drew in a deep breath.

“But for some reason, I feel compelled to share this, with the hope that maybe someday survivors will see this message and will understand what happened in the final days of our once-great civilization.”

Reaching toward the monitor, he shut off the camera, and a new image came online. This time, it was of an airfield with a rocket launch pad, bordering a blue-green body of water.

“In two thousand forty-three, humanity had all but solved the energy crisis,” Julio said. “Leading the scientific advancements was Industrial Tech Corporation, my employer, and the CEO, Tyron Red. Brilliant, aggressive, and always four steps ahead of everyone else, Mr. Red was preparing to take the next leap for humanity—a leap that would take us to the stars and beyond.”

The rocket on the pad ignited, blasting skyward. The video panned to a group of people standing behind a glass window, clapping and cheering at the successful launch. Among them was the CEO of ITC, Tyron Red. Katrina had seen him one other time in history books: a handsome man with dark skin, a muscular build, and a distinctive pair of blue eyeglasses.

“Not all humans wanted to embark on this next phase, however,” Julio continued. “Mr. Red met with great resistance.”

The next feed was of Tyron wearing a long white trench coat. He walked toward an all-glass building with several guards carrying weapons. Just as they were about to crest the long staircase, gunfire cracked, and Tyron hit the ground. One of his guards pulled him to safety, but too late. Blood flowered on his coat front.

Next came an image of Tyron in a hospital bed, with dozens of tubes sticking out of him like plastic vines.

“Mr. Red was severely wounded in the assassination attempt,” Julio said, “and doctors, unable to save his body, transferred his mind to a humanoid host. He was the first of many AIs.”

Timothy’s hologram seemed to flicker, or was it just the lighting? Katrina couldn’t be sure. Her gut tightened some more.

“In the year two thousand forty-three, a virus swept the vast ITC networks throughout the world, shutting down communications and grounding planes and vehicles with advanced electronics,” Julio said. His face came back on the screen.

“When the end came, it wasn’t due to countries fighting over resources; it was a virus designed to kill Mr. Red and destroy the ITC network. Instead, the virus flooded the ITC network, taking over even the most heavily encrypted military software designed to protect it from attack. The virus took over Mr. Red’s program. The result was the first blending of AI and a human host, the two consciousnesses fighting for control. Unfortunately for humanity, the AI won out.”

Julio licked his lips, as if they were dry, and looked around him.

“At first, ITC tried to shut the program down, but their efforts only strengthened the virus, and once it had taken over Mr. Red’s AI, it turned on humanity, creating a second virus that simulated a nuclear attack.”

He shook his head sadly. “It was brilliant, really. Allies turned on one another overnight, formerly friendly countries doing everything they could to protect themselves from destruction. Rumors filled the digital channels that were still working. The response was all-out war. Some are calling this period ‘the Blackout.’ What you will see next is some of the final drone footage we received before everyone went dark.”

Julio’s image was replaced by burning farm fields, vaporizing cities, and, finally, the vast dark storms raging in the skies.

“My God,” Katrina whispered, putting her hand over her mouth.

Julio added, “The only military vessels that could withstand the first digital virus, the one designed to take over Mr. Red, were those designed to combat the threat of electromagnetic pulse.”

“Deliverance,” Michael said.

Katrina nodded. “The Hive.”

“Military and scientific officers gathered their families and took the ships to the air when the first orders came,” Julio continued. “Many of the airships launched their nuclear payloads during the first few days of the attack. But not all of them needed to. Russia, China, and the United States fired off their arsenals from underground bunkers, poisoning virtually every acre of soil and creating a massive magnetic storm that touched every corner of the globe.”

Michael put a hand on his cheek, shaking it from side to side.

“On Saturday, September 3, 2043, the world as we knew it ended when the final government went dark,” Julio said. “I hope this information ends up helping someone or, at the very least, helps document the end of our days. I will upload more in the future, but for now I must return to salvaging what we can in our lab and preparing for our own bleak future.”

The screen went dark, but Timothy’s white glow kept the room lit. Katrina tried to manage her breathing, but the videos, transmissions, and audio clips made it difficult.

“It wasn’t humans who did this, like we thought,” Michael said. “It was AI.”

They both turned around to look at Timothy.

Putting both hands on his hips, he said, “Captain DaVita and Commander Everhart, I assure you that I’m not your enemy. I am not infected with that virus, nor was I aware until this moment that it even existed.”

Katrina got up from her chair. She still didn’t know what had happened to X and Magnolia. For all she knew, the duplicate AI program had abandoned them on the island. And while she knew firsthand that X could be a thoroughgoing jerk, that didn’t give Timothy the right to leave them and take the Sea Wolf.

She was left with no choice but to take drastic action.

“Timothy, I’m sorry, but I’m shutting you down, effective immediately,” Katrina said firmly.

The AI blinked several times, then tilted his head. “I am designed to serve,” he said. “And while I regret your order, of course I will follow it.”

The white glow vanished, leaving Michael and Katrina in darkness.

Magnolia was itching to share with X the information that she had sent to Katrina, but now wasn’t the time. He was still swimming through the bay, stopping every few minutes to rest on the exposed carcass of a partially sunken boat.

It gave her plenty of time to contemplate what she had seen and heard back in the abandoned jungle facility. For the first time in her life, she finally understood how the world had ended.

The Blackout happened.

All those days and nights combing the archives on the Hive and learning about the beautiful Old World—rolling green fields and meadows, lush forests, crystal clear streams, and majestic beasts such as elephants. She now knew what had wiped out those wonders and created the dark and dangerous world around her now.

But never would she have guessed it was AI, and not humanity, that did this.

She brought her scope back to X as he dived off the side of a wreck into the water. He was a hell of a swimmer, much faster than she would have expected. Using deep strokes in a front crawl, he kicked and pulled himself toward the Sea Wolf.

He wasn’t far away; just a few more minutes and he would reach the vessel. She turned her sights to the stern, wondering whether Timothy was really just offline, or had tried to leave them here. After discovering the truth about the end of the world, she wasn’t sure she could still trust him, even though he had done nothing but try to help them since she first met him back at the Hilltop Bastion.

She pushed those concerns aside and kept searching for any threat to X in the water. Several other rusted, barnacled shipwrecks jutted above the shallow bay. Massive blue-and-orange crabs moved about the waterline on the nearest hull.

“You…” X panted. “You see anything, Mags?”

“If you mean that shark, no, I don’t see it.”

She panned the rifle scope over the water, back and forth, up and down, looking for a dorsal fin in the dark low swells. There was no sign of movement, but she couldn’t see beneath the surface. She shuddered at the thought of swimming through pitch-black water, knowing that the next stroke could be her last.

When she brought the sights back to X’s location, she couldn’t find him in the open water.

“X…” she said, lowering the rifle for an unaided look. Miles trotted up beside her, letting out a whine.

“X,” Magnolia said again, trying her best to keep her voice low.

A screech answered, and she whirled about to see a vulture flying low over the bamboo forest. She hunched down and told Miles to do the same.

The massive bird soared just over the bamboo forest, fiery red wings beating the air. The curved beak opened, releasing another screech as it scanned the terrain with shiny black eyes that looked like curved beetle shells.

Magnolia led the monster with the rifle, prepared to blast it from the sky, but it flapped on.

Heart still pounding, she turned back to the bay, and Miles stood up. She searched again for X, but there was no sign of his black suit.

The blue glow of his battery unit shone through the duffel bag, where she had stuffed it along with his armor and the radio. If he had worn it, tracking him would be a lot easier, but then, swimming would be impossible.

A grumble finally broke over the channel.

“Stern of the second ship from the Sea Wolf,” X said.

Magnolia zoomed in to find him climbing onto the rusted hull of a half-submerged fishing boat. The water below his feet rippled, and a dorsal fin sliced the surface.

“The shark’s back,” she whispered.

“No shit, Mags. Why the hell didn’t you warn me?”

“I couldn’t see…”

“Well, now that you can, do you think you can manage shooting it?”

Magnolia raised the rifle and zoomed in on the dorsal fin as it cut an arc around the ship, then disappeared into the murk.

X climbed to the top of the stern and perched there, watching over the side for the beast. “I lost it,” he said. “You see it?”

The fishing boat suddenly rocked. X grabbed a railing as he fell over the side. The rattling sound carried across the silent bay, and another vulture called out in the distance.

X slipped and swung left, hanging by one hand. “My arm… I can’t hold on.”

“Climb, X!”

The dorsal fin rose out of the water again. Gritting his teeth against the pain, X managed to get his other hand back on the rail. Then he hauled himself upward just enough that he could kick against the hull above the high-water mark, missing the encrustation of barnacles that would have shredded the soles of his bare feet. Only about ten feet separated him from the waves.

“X!” Magnolia shouted, unable to keep her voice down.

The shark drove upward through the surface, exposing a thick, muscular body. She fired several three-round bursts into the pale belly and side. The jaw snapped mere inches away from X’s feet, and he let out a scream over the comms.

The shark crashed back into the water, splashing the side of the boat.

Magnolia scanned the waves, searching for another shot.

“Get back topside!” she said.

X was already climbing, both feet scrabbling against the hull.

“Keep it off me!” he said.

Magnolia trained the rifle back on the water directly below him, just in case the shark decided to jump again. But instead of jumping, it rammed the boat a second time. This time, X lost his grip and fell back into the water.

“No!” Magnolia shouted. She moved closer to the cliff edge, with Miles beside her. After checking the load in the grenade launcher, she swung the rifle back up to her shoulder.

The shark had rounded the stern, and the fin once again broke the surface, a couple hundred feet from X.

“Swim, X!” Magnolia shouted. She held her breath in her chest and fired a grenade just in front of the fin. The projectile streaked into the water, where it detonated, sending a plume of water into the sky.

X flailed and fought his way back to the side of the boat. Miles growled, and Magnolia kept her aim on the water just in case. The thing had to be dead, right? Not even a prehistoric monster could survive a blast like that.

“Did you get it?” X panted.

Magnolia zoomed in on the frothy water where the grenade had exploded. Even with her night-vision goggles, she could see the blood darkening the surface.

“I… I think so,” she replied.

Miles growled again and nudged her leg. She turned just as a vulture appeared over the top of the bamboo forest, its shiny beetle-shell eyes on her.

There was no time to duck or jump out of the way—only enough to curse and fire her rifle at the beast. Rounds punched through the red plumage, and the bird’s downward trajectory steepened.

Before she could move, it slammed into her and sent her stumbling backward. She reached for something—anything—but her hands came up empty. Miles barked as she windmilled her arms. Two more of the birds were sailing toward the exposed bluff.

“Hide, Miles!” she managed to cry out as she fell over the edge.