Post-Human Trilogy

Craig touched down in a thick yellow cloud of dust. His parachute ejected automatically so he wouldn’t be dragged away into the dust storm. Above, the sun’s rays were nearly visible, suggesting that the dust cloud was abating, as predicted, but for now, he was blinded, with only his HUD to guide him. “Weddell, I’m on your three o’clock,” Craig said, “fifteen meters away.”

“Copy.”

The green dot on Craig’s HUD that signified Wilson was also still active, and Weddell’s dot was next to it. Cheng and Klein had vanished. Craig strode in his exoskeleton, only a few steps taking him most of the way to the quickly materializing silhouette of Weddell, leaning over the crumpled form of Wilson. A couple strides more, and the image came into focus, the stark reality of Wilson’s nearly pulverized body emerging.

“You were right, Doc,” Weddell said as he turned his head to look up at Craig. “The telemetry was all wrong. I played it safe and followed your orders at the last second. My chute opened in time, but I hit the surface hard.” He turned and looked down at his fallen officer-in-charge. “Commander Wilson didn’t even open his chute. He…God, he hit the ground at terminal velocity.” He shook his head. “I saw him hit.”

Craig dropped to his knees and tried to get a view of Wilson’s face, but the commander had fallen face down, and his helmet had burrowed into an impact crater of its own creation. Craig could read Wilson’s absent vitals on his HUD, so it seemed true that the commander was, indeed, dead. But the SOLO team were super soldiers. “There might still be hope,” Craig said to Weddell.

“What? What are you talking about? I saw him hit the ground myself. He’s dead as dead, Doc.”

Craig pushed Wilson’s pulverized body so that it turned over, revealing the golden reflective facemask. He popped Wilson’s mask up so he could see inside the helmet; the visor was splashed with blood, but Wilson’s head appeared to be intact. “The respirocytes,” Craig replied. “His brain is still getting oxygen. If I can get him into suspended animation fast enough—”

“I understand,” Weddell quickly said. “SOLO team, do you copy?” The radio crackled for a few moments, but there were periodic pops and chirps, and one sounded like it might be a voice. “Did you hear that?” Weddell asked Craig.

“Yes. Weddell, they were on the far right of the formation.” Craig stood to his feet and stepped a few paces through the yellow dust before he quickly stumbled over a ledge, tumbling onto his stomach, digging hard with his exoskeleton’s strength into the earth to keep from tumbling further down the steep incline. “Damn it! Weddell, we just missed the crater! It was to the south! If Klein and Cheng opened manually, they might have made it!”

“That makes sense,” Weddell replied excitedly. “The crater goes down one kilometer. If they’re far enough down there, that would explain why we can’t get radio contact through all the interference.”

Craig finished crawling back up over the lip of the crater and returned to see Weddell standing, having retrieved his twin machine guns from his backpack. The guns were gigantic, and the armor-piercing bullets made them far too heavy to be carried by a regular human; fortunately the exoskeleton did 100 percent of the heavy lifting.

“I can head down there,” Weddell said determinedly. “If they’re already there, I’ll establish contact, and we can still finish the mission. You should stay here and wait for Robbie to return. We might need that thing after all.”

“There’s a problem with that plan,” Craig replied.

“What?”

“I don’t think that was just a glitch with our telemetry. I think we were sabotaged. New coordinates were fed to us at the last minute, pushing us off target so we’d miss the crater and hit the outer surface.”

“Are you saying—”

“The A.I. is still functioning. Somehow, it detected us and tried to defend itself.”

Weddell’s face was ghost white. “That’s bad news, Doc.”

“If you get down there and don’t make contact with Cheng and Klein, my advice is that you toss as much Semtex down that hole as you can and haul your ass back up. We’ll head back to the extraction point and report what we know.”

“Agreed,” Weddell replied. “Stay here. I’m going to go dark pretty quick with all this interference, but I’ll contact you ASAP, when I’m making my way back up.”

“Good luck,” Craig replied as he watched Weddell jog into the yellow fog and disappear over the lip of the crater.

He turned back to Wilson and got down to his knees. The commander’s face was pale and lifeless—a horrific sight. Only minutes ago, he had been alive and in his element, guiding his team and helping the rookie make it safely to the surface. Now he was nothing. Just a bag of tenderized meat.

Or was he? The respirocytes had changed the game. Craig knew if his brain continued getting oxygen until the S.A. bags arrived, Wilson might just have a slim chance. His body had been destroyed, but as long as he could get to a hospital before he suffered brain death, survival was still possible.

“Robbie? Robbie, do you copy?” Craig asked over the radio. Robbie’s signal wasn’t appearing. The robot could run three times the speed of a human sprinter and sustain that pace for hours until his lithium air battery finally gave out. As long as Robbie was able to open his chute in time to avoid being pulverized on a rock somewhere, he should be rapidly approaching, but would he make it in time? “Robbie?” Craig said again, forlornly. It was unlikely that his communication would carry further than the Wi-Fi signal that detected his location.

Suddenly, Robbie’s green dot appeared on Craig’s HUD. Robbie was less than 200 meters away and approaching with supernatural swiftness. He’d be there in less than five seconds. “Robbie! Thank God! We’ve got a man down!”

The dot continued its rapid approach. The dust was beginning to settle, and Craig could peer further through the yellow storm. Robbie’s uncanny robotic run emerged as a dark brown silhouette, accented by the blue lights on his joints. The strange form quickly became larger.

It didn’t appear to be slowing down.

“Robbie?” Craig said one last time before the MAD bot leapt into the air and came crashing down upon him.

At the very last instant, Craig managed to put his arm up and block the attack, but the blow still knocked him hard to the ground. He kicked at the robot and knocked it away from him, sending it crashing to the ground a few meters away. “Robbie! Stand down!” he commanded.

The robot didn’t obey. Instead, it charged at him again, appearing from out of the yellow dust, barreling toward Craig’s chest.

“Goddamn it!” Craig shouted as he blocked the attack, backhanding Robbie to the side, sending the robot tumbling as it struggled to stay on its feet. The machine was faster than Craig, but its balance, although serviceable, was still inferior to that of a human. Craig used this advantage, along with the strength of his exoskeleton, which was equal to Robbie’s, to stay in the fight. “Sleep, Robbie! Sleep mode!” he commanded desperately.

Robbie had tumbled onto his side but he quickly snapped back up to his feet and began charging.

It was clear that the robot was no longer Robbie; the Chinese A.I. had somehow taken control of the MAD bot. Craig’s only chance was to terminate the unit before it terminated him. With no time to pull out one of his guns, he would have to repel one last attack and get Robbie onto the ground again. He punched the robot as it reached him, badly denting its face and driving it backward into the dust. It fell to the ground once more, and Craig immediately stood atop it, planting his heels on its chest. He reached for his backpack and began to withdraw one of his guns so he could blast the machine in the head and chest to disable it.

Before he could retrieve his weapon, however, it deftly swung its metal legs up under Craig’s pelvis and used a super-fast, powerful kick to drive Craig’s very human body upward and off of it. The impact sent Craig nearly three meters into the air, but far worse, it shattered his pelvis and lower spine, instantly paralyzing him below the waist. Craig landed in the dirt, face down, in shock, barely able to move.

A second later, Robbie had him twisted around, tossing him onto his back. “No,” Craig said weakly as the machine drove its fist through the several layers of protection of the SOLO suit and grasped the front of his uniform, pulling his limp body, helmet and all, out of its protection as though he were a premature calf being roughly liberated from the dead body of its mother. Robbie tossed Craig roughly next to Wilson before quickly crawling into the SOLO suit and exoskeleton, assuming control and expertly retrieving the guns.