The Future War

'Lieutenant Reese,' the man said, pursing his lips. 'Army Corps of Engineers; always a useful occupation. And Nurse Shea.' He smiled a welcome at Mary. 'We can always use someone trained in the medical profession,' he said sincerely.

'Welcome to our little hideaway.'

'You survivalists?' Reese asked. He had a sinking feeling about this. He'd known a few survivalist nutcases in his time; some who were the kind who would decide to keep him and Mary as slaves on the grounds that they would help him survive.

He'd known a few who weren't crazy, but the way today was going, what were the odds he'd meet a sane one?

'I'm Jack Brock,' the man said. 'That was my daughter, Susie. Sit down, take a load off,' he invited. 'Have some mint tea.'

Reese and Mary looked at each other, then sat down.

'Yeah,' Brock said, pouring them each a cup. 'We're survivalists.' Grimly: 'At least, we're surviving, which most people on this continent haven't, the past couple of months. And more.' He looked up at them, smiling. 'But before we get into my story, why don't we hear yours?'

The two prisoners glanced at each other again. If he'd been the perfect soldier facing an undoubted enemy, the lieutenant knew what he would do. But… Why not? Reese thought. Might as well see how it sounds when we say it out loud to a third party.

'We're from the Black River Relocation Camp,' he began.

'Black River is one of the good camps,' Brock interrupted.

'You wouldn't believe some of the stories we've heard about some of the others.'

Once again Dennis and Mary gave each other worried looks.

This is getting monotonous, Reese thought. Either we develop telepathy, or we should invent a couple of signals… like, one finger means 'what should we do?' and two means 'should we trust him?' So we can just hold them up as necessary.

'We've been having a cholera epidemic,' Mary explained.

'Suddenly we got orders to send the sickest of our patients to a central hospital. Where that would be they didn't say.'

'Meanwhile I got orders to report to central command for reassignment and was told to accompany the trucks they sent for the patients.'

'I had overheard some men talking in a way that implied they were deliberately spreading the contagion, so I was requested to go along, too… so that I could be questioned.'

'We set out this morning,' Reese said. 'But instead of being taken to any central command, we were dumped in the middle of nowhere.'

'The trucks stopped and these people literally threw my patients out of the trucks. Then they drove off and left us there.'

Mary looked at Reese.

Do I tell him what happened next? the lieutenant wondered.

So far everything made sense. But the killing machine was another, and much harder-to-believe, story.

Brock sipped his tea and waited for them to continue. When they didn't he put his cup down and looked between them. 'And your patients?' he said at last. 'What happened to them?'

Mary looked down into her tea. 'This thing came out of the woods and shot them.'

Brock looked at her for a moment, then glanced at Reese, who nodded. The survivalist sighed. 'What you just saw,' he said,

'was what's called a Hunter-Killer. HK, for short. It's a machine designed to hunt down and kill any human being; high-level robot brain, built-in weapons, fuel-cell power supply.'

The two just stared at him. Reese pulled his jaw up, hoping he didn't look as poleaxed as Mary.

'Have you ever heard of Skynet?' Brock asked.

They nodded. 'The DOD super-computer,' Reese said.

'Well, Skynet isn't just a computer anymore. It's sentient, and it's decided that we're its enemies and that it's got to kill us all.

It's taken over all the automated factories and has them turning out machines like the one you saw. And since the military foolishly turned over all of its computer functions to Skynet, that computer now controls our military. It's been sending out all kinds of orders and directives.

'Not just supposedly from the army and so forth, mind you, but also from the civilian leadership. Which, like the upper echelons of the military, no longer exists.' Brock stopped and let them take it in.

'How can you be sure of that?' Reese asked.

Brock leaned back with a sigh. 'All those VIPs ran to all those hardened bunkers, leaving you and me and the rest of the world to deal with Armageddon while they waited it out in cushioned comfort. Unfortunately for them, the same fools that gave Skynet control of all the weapons also gave it control of such minor functions as the life support for those same hardened bunkers.'

He started to chuckle, then waved a hand. 'I'm sorry, I shouldn't laugh. But I always did kind of resent those guys.'

'Me, too,' Mary said. Reese glanced at her in surprise.

'Further,' Brock continued, 'none of our fearless leaders has actually been seen. We've heard broadcasts on the radio advising us to keep up our spirits and to report to the camps, but they've never visited any camps.' He leaned forward, wagging a finger.

'And I betcha if you asked around in the military, nobody's seen any generals, either.'

Reese sipped his tea and reflected that he had been thinking that things weren't as organized as they should be. More like you'd expect World War II to have been.

'The big worry now,' Brock said, 'is that Skynet actually has human allies. Deluded fools who think they're saving the earth by depopulating it. They're under the impression that they'll get to live in bucolic splendor. But actually, as soon as it has enough machines, Skynet'll be killing them, too.'

He pointed at Mary. 'So you heard right, little lady. They probably did start that epidemic. And you two'—he gestured between them—'must have rocked the boat somehow, so they want you both dead. So, if you do go back to the relocation camp and try to tell them this story, which the innocent won't believe anyway, they'll just pack you off to 'central command' again.

Only this time the guilty will send some of Skynet's human helpers along to make sure you don't get away next time.'

Dennis and Mary thought about it.

Finally Mary shook her head. 'But we have to do something,'

she said. 'Someone is deliberately poisoning people in the Black River Camp. We can't just sit by and do nothing. How can we fight this if we just hide out?'

'Okay,' Brock said. 'Say they catch these guys red-handed putting their poison in the water, or however they're spreading it. What happens next?'

Dennis shifted uncomfortably. 'They'll contact HQ and lay out their case.'

'And HQ will do what?'

'They'll have the prisoners and the evidence and maybe even some of the witnesses sent to, uh, central command,' Mary said.

'Never to be seen again,' Brock concluded. 'Look, people, you've done your best by warning them about what you overheard. Now you have to decide where your efforts will do the most good. We're gaining strength here all the time. A lot of army and National Guard guys have joined us because of things they've seen that convinced them something skanky is going on.'

'Deserters,' Dennis said grimly.

'Can you desert an organization that doesn't really exist anymore?' Brock asked.

'We have no evidence of that,' the lieutenant protested. 'An absence of evidence isn't evidence of absence.'

Brock studied him silently. 'I shouldn't do this,' he said. 'But I've got a feeling about you two.' He stood up.