TIMELINE: "Guardians" takes place during 2053 during the AI rebellion, 10 years before the Chig war begins, when T.C. McQueen is a young lieutenant.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: This is a McQueen story with a brief appearance from Lt. Cmdr. Glen Ross. Thanks to Sheryl Clay, Matt Yellen, "Fitz" and "Speedbump."

The concept of the multi-national corporation Aerotech, the premise of the Artificial Intelligence rebellion -- also known as the AI Wars -- and the characters of T.C. McQueen and Glen Van Ross belong to Glen Morgan and James Wong and Hard Eight Pictures. The concept of Space Station Goddard as a facility with both university and military personnel is part of the novelization of the S:AAB pilot by Peter Telep, which was adapted from the script, also written by Morgan and Wong. Ross paraphrases a statement about the uses of science originally made by Alan Valentine. Another remark from Lewis Branscomb intrigues the AIs. Absolutely no copyright infringement is intended toward any of the above-mentioned sources. Except for McQueen and Ross, the remainder of the characters invented for this story are mine.
R-rated Guardians Part One of Five

"Both the man of science and the man of action live always at the edge of mystery, surrounded by it."
J. Robert Oppenheimer



Part Five of Five

Marine Air Base
Loxley, AL 2053

Furious, Megan walked beside Pfieffer, who prattled about gossip among the scientific community. She vaguely noticed he never mentioned anyone rumored to have been captured by AIs.

The halls were too crowded with Marines. "I need to talk to you in private." Megan grabbed at Pfieffer's sleeve, jerked open an unlabelled door and pushed him inside. His protests fell on deaf ears as she stared at the scene beyond a glass barrier.

Marta, with her mouth twitched up on one side in annoyance, sat before a similar panel. As Megan had suspected, Marta was enduring a similar briefing. Like a criminal.

"That's it." Megan stormed toward a door near the glass and flung it open. She had other fish to fry than to yammer at Pfieffer.

"That's it, gentlemen," she said as briskly as she walked. "This meeting's over."

One of the Marine officers barked at a sentry, "Get that woman out of here."

"Soon enough." Megan turned to the sentry stepping toward her. "Lay one hand on me, and I'll call my lawyer so fast you'll think he showed up in a Hammerhead. The Campaneris Foundation has a good bit of juice. Don't make me squeeze any of you for more."

The officer at the table nodded at the sentry who backed away. "We're done anyway, Dr. Connelly."

"Indeed you are. Come on, Marta. Let's check out the lodgings they have for us."

As they left the Marines, Pfieffer seemed amused. "Don't bite the hand that guards you."

Megan held the door open for Marta and said to Pfieffer, "There's a difference between biting and snarling."

"If you snarl," he pointed out, "you have to be ready to bite."

 

***


Bayou Ascension
Louisiana 2053

All jungles everywhere had nasty things slipping around in the dark, McQueen thought as he adjusted the pack of stuff he carried by shrugging his shoulders. Lafayette had mentioned "gatuhs" and snakes. Bernard had added that nutrias could be nasty, too.

None of that stuff made McQueen nervous, except something could waddle up out of the muck and distract them at a crucial moment. He knew a "gatuh" was an alligator, but he couldn't figure out what nutria was. When he asked, Lafayette replied, "Money."

Bernard set the record straight. "Big swamp rat. Makes a pretty fur coat."

The chatter stopped before they got to the water. They advanced through the swamp. McQueen heard a slight clicking and signaled a stop. Lafayette pointed southeast. Through the heavy leaves and hanging Spanish moss, they could see an AI standing lookout.

It took all three of them to take down the AI sentry without a shot announcing their presence. Like an alligator stalking a nutria, Lafayette slipped up behind the Silicate. He took it down with a k-bar jabbed into a pressure point, just like pressing hard on a human's carotid artery, then sliced open the skin down its neck.

Almost simultaneously in a slick move, Bernard dumped what looked like a quart of cola into the gaping slash. The thing sputtered and gurgled, without rasping out a warning to the others.

After its last sputter, McQueen grabbed its right arm. With a grimace and a mighty jerk, he ripped its right arm from its shoulder. He gave it one shake in vengeful satisfaction. He may have slipped up earlier on the highway, but he was back in the zone now. He heaved the thing into the nearby water.

"Sody pop's hell on computers," Lafayette opined. "Don't matter if they're on a desk or on foot."

"Its buddies'll think it fell in the swamp. They won't check. They don't give a shit what happens to each other." Bernard snorted. "Some freedom fighters."

McQueen wanted to say, that makes them even more dangerous, but the chatter was getting on his nerves. They were too close to too much water to be yakking at each other. Sound carried over water.

They edged their way through thick vegetation toward the reported airstrip. Bernard and McQueen passed the night goggles back and forth and studied the situation.

It wasn't much of an airstrip but just fine for the ISSCV, which had probably been reported missing from some unit, parked and readied for takeoff. They saw a little building about the size of the Thibodaux shack. Nearby, they spotted moving figures carrying rifles.

None of the AIs looked particularly edgy or alert. Some sat playing cards in a bastardization of strip poker. Faint bleeps and clicks could be heard as the losers ripped small mechanical parts from their own bodies.

Lafayette held the microphone straight toward them and listened intently to the audio in the headset he wore. "Bastards don't want to feed the Carbonites," he summarized. "They're drawing straws to see which one cooks."

McQueen mumbled, "Good. The prisoners are still here. Alive."

"I wonder if I had an AI cook at boot," Bernard mused. "Food sure tasted bad enough."

Having had just about enough of the chatter and wondering about achieving the element of surprise, McQueen said, "Shut up. Both of you."

"Hell, McQueen," Lafayette said. "We been doin' this stuff a long time. Since way before you were a glimmer in a lab geek's eye." He slowly drew up a threatening grin. "They'll be plenty surprised. You'll see."

McQueen sniffed the air. The one who'd drawn the short straw apparently hadn't welshed on the bet. "Is that bacon cooking?"

Bernard also sniffed the air. "Good call. Looks like we're just in time for dinner."

"Change of plans," McQueen said. "The Carbonites are going out for dinner."
***

Marine Space Aviator Cavalry Base
Loxley, AL 2053

Megan had finally ditched Alex Pfieffer. She and Marta sat alone in the room assigned to them. Both women were tired and worried. Megan tried to convince herself that no news was good news about Leland and Ty. Certainly the Marines had not told her anything and, after the fit she had thrown while springing Marta from her briefing, they would not offer her any tidbits of hope, either.

"The short version?" Marta snorted and shook her head. "They thought I might be involved in this mess because I did not attend the party. That I am a Latin whose country is riddled with war did not help." She folded her arms and stared across the room. "I hope they do not bother my sister."

"Me too." But Megan was fairly certain a team was on the way out to Metairie, just in case, even though she was just as certain Marta wasn't their target. Still, she walked toward the door, "I'm gonna get Pfieffer from Aerotech to get you and your family out of this."

Marta patted her hand. "That would only make them worse."

"They never mentioned you to me," Megan said. "They tried a different route on me. They're looking for a fall guy. But it's not you." She wondered how Ty was doing, if he were still alive. And she knew she couldn't ask the Marines. That would only answer their question.

"Ahhh. Our tank friend, no doubt." She nodded appraisingly. "A tank would make an excellent fall guy. The public would believe it in a heartbeat."

Megan winced. She thought she should be glad Marta had referred to him as "our friend."

"You have lived way too seriously," Marta said, "too devoted to work and your head and ideas. You have ignored here.'' She tapped her chest over her heart. "Not to mention here." With a quick flip of the wrist, she indicated her lap. "That is important, too. A young woman should have a fling. No wonder you succumbed to his temptation."

Megan remembered stroking his face in the car speeding in the dark night back to New Orleans. Had he been a cat, he would have purred. "It was the other way around."
***

McQueen and Bernard crept toward the shack and the ISSCV. Lafayette, the better shot of the two, stayed in the trees to play sniper. Actually, McQueen was the best shot in the group, but he was the better pilot of the three. Getting the captives out of there was the first priority.

He peeked into a window in the shack. About a dozen humans in dirty, tattered clothing sat quietly on the dirty floor. He could see their hands behind their backs, lashed together at the wrist with nylon cable ties. They were deadly quiet, probably because of the two AIs, a male and female model, holding rifles.

"Hungry?" The female AI with a formerly gorgeous face, now torn with metal parts exposed, smirked at the group of humans at her feet. A metallic chirp erupted from her as she teased. "I bet. Like the smell of bacon frying? Smart money says the alligators do, too. Lots of them around here. Door's always open for them. "

As she continued prattling about alligators and other Carbonite- eating things from the swamp, McQueen scoped out the situation. Two AIs in the shack. One taking on green water in the swamp. Another frying bacon. Two others playing poker. Maybe a couple more unaccounted for. Bernard slunk away to check on that. McQueen waited by the window until a human voice, female, surprised him by speaking up.

Quivering with fear but bold enough to speak, the woman asked, "What are you going to do with us?"

The male AI slapped her hard. "No talking!"

The female AI stopped in front of the woman. "We're going to feed you full of bacon then take you for a ride. Ever been in space?"

The woman, who McQueen remembered from the party, visibly trembled. McQueen didn't like the look of this, but he wanted to wait for Bernard's report.

With a smile of pride and surprise, the female AI nodded at the woman. "Good for you. You took a chance." Then it shot her. "You lose. Odds are always with the house."

McQueen cringed. He wished he could have shot the thing sooner, saved the woman, but he couldn't give away their presence. But wait. The woman moaned. She was still alive. At that range, she should have been dead. The Silicate had intended to wing her.

The male AI said, "That's not the plan. You don't kill them here. Take them all where they want to go. Then kill them."

"I just shut her up," she snapped. "Warm up the shuttle."

He was glad to see Bernard peering from the bushes. Bernard flashed eight fingers. McQueen nodded.

They didn't have much time, McQueen thought as the male AI headed outside. But waiting for him to get the ISSCV ready to fly would be convenient. Be nice to have the plane fired up and ready to go. Then, all they had to do would be to kill all eight AIs and keep all 12 prisoners alive while they boarded the carrier.

As the female AI renewed her rant on alligators, a clear patrician voice said, "Elise, shall we play cards while we wait?"

Dr. Campaneris sounded well, but looked bruised and bloody. Yet, his still, calm demeanor in the face of certain death amazed McQueen.

The AI's trilling chirp chilled McQueen as she turned to face Campaneris. "You're a counter," it said with a frown. "All choice, no chance."

As if he were making cocktail party chit-chat, the scientist replied brightly, "Ah, isn't choice really chance in disguise?"

Leave it to Campaneris to debate the devil at the gates of hell, McQueen glumly thought as he raised the rifle to his eye. Who knew when that thing would tire of him and blow him away? Any minute now. And what was taking that other rattletrap so long? Fire up that damn plane.

Finally, McQueen heard the telltale hum of engines warming and catching. He lined up the AI's head while it smirkingly exchanged bon mots with Campaneris and blasted twice. It fell sideways, a clean head shot.

Distantly, he could hear the sounds of gunfire among the human screams as he hurled himself through the open window. He yelled at them, "Everyone, on your feet. We're leaving."

He ran over to the injured woman. "Ma'am, you need to walk." He used his k-bar to slice through the nylon cable ties around their wrists. "Help get her out here," he added.

He ran to the door and looked out. He blasted away in the direction of any mechanical chirps and hoped Bernard and Lafayette didn't end up in any crossfire. He also hoped no stray rounds hit the ISSCV.

He saw Bernard wave from the window of the ISSCV. He yelled back to them, "Everyone, run to the side door. Get inside. I'll cover you."
***

Marine Space Aviator Cavalry Base
Loxley, AL 2053 >

Megan paced the floor. Marta tried to log onto the net, as much of the net as the assigned limited access lines allowed.

"Pfieffer did tell me why the AIs decided to go after scientists," Megan said to Marta.

Marta tapped at the keyboard. "Oh, really?" she said absently as she stared at the monitor. "You believe him?"

"Makes sense in a twisted sort of way," Megan said as she looked out the window. Funny, how much she had missed looking out the window. But her mind was elsewhere so she really didn't see what was in front of her nose. "It's a combination of a backlash at their creators and a way to ensure no one would create an effective way to combat them en masse. Plus mix in a little bit of terrorism."

"Hmmph. That sounds too original for Silicates."

"It is -- supposedly one of them was sorting through its quotations file and came upon a little gem, a twist upon Oppenheimer's old phrase about how 'scientists now know sin.' This one compares science to 'cosmic apple juice from the Garden of Eden.' It goes on to say something to the effect of, those of us 'who drink of it are doomed to carry the burden of original sin.' "

"Sounds more like those crazy ASCIs. And the authorities believe Silicates are responsible for this?"

Megan closed the drapes. "They want Earth for themselves. They expelled scientists into space, like the prototype humans were expelled from Eden. Even researchers who would never come up with anything remotely threatening to AIs. Randomness makes better terror."

"The wages of sin?"

A thought flashed through Megan's mind about Leland, expelled from Eden. She closed her eyes tightly to make the thought and memories of it dissipate. She paced in front of the window with her arms folded and pressed into her stomach.

She also thought about Ty. Silicates would squash him like a bug, a pest. She remembered him telling her how he relied upon buddies watching his six, whatever that was. Wherever he was, she hoped he didn't have to work alone.

No news was good news, she reminded herself. Really.
***

Airborne between Louisiana and Loxley, AL 2053

McQueen knew, without looking back, who was speaking by the silky patrician voice.

"Lt. McQueen, you seem to have a propensity for coming to the rescue of me and my interests. For that, I thank you."

McQueen nodded. He didn't know what to say to the man, who looked a lot less imposing with bruises and blood on his face. With his formerly silver hair a dirty gray and his fine suit dirty and tattered, he looked like an old man dumped onto Skid Row.

Campaneris asked, with a voice filled with emotion, "How is she?"

McQueen almost did a double take. He wanted to say, she's fine. But he couldn't be sure. The time he saw her was in the rearview mirror, before he had flung himself out of the car. McQueen gulped before he said, "I had to leave her with Marta."

Campaneris leaned his head back against the wall. A throaty chuckle rumbled from him. "Then she's fine."

McQueen relaxed. "I thought so, Sir, or I wouldn't have left her." He didn't want to tell the man how he had left her, in a car driven by a civilian woman speeding away from a firefight. After all, he had left a post the night before. And look what had happened after that.

The chuckling stopped. "My first thought," Campaneris said, "when the AIs stormed the garden was -- " The older man shook his head and fought back tears behind closed eyes. He collected himself, while McQueen studied a bolt in the wall on the other side of the cabin, and continued, "That they would hurt her. I didn't think about myself. Just her."

"She was safe," McQueen said softly. "I wouldn't let anything happen to her." He couldn't look at the scientist.

"I know. And I'm grateful." Campaneris said, "Sometimes, one's greatest fear is one's greatest strength."

***

Goddard Space Station 2053


Of all the places on Goddard where she could have gone, Megan returned to that skanky bar where she had first met Ty. She could have gone to the library or to any one of the habitats created in space for study, but no -- she had to go rub salt in her wounds.

She'd remembered all the flyboy photos on the wall, the bra tree and the table where she had sat at the video phone. Appropriately, the jukebox was cranking out blues. She ordered a beer and sat at the video phone.

She knew she was being checked out by some of the patrons, but she didn't care and wasn't interested. She had halfway hoped he would be there. Of course, he wasn't. He was off defending humans from AIs. And she was back finishing out her term on Goddard. Finals were coming up. Finally. Haha. Punny, punny.

She figured she'd probably see him again, but it wouldn't be the same. He had been icy cold to her upon his return with Leland. Distant. But, when he didn't think she was looking, sadness clouded his eyes. Then, he would re-adjust his facial expression only to become unreadable again. Nevertheless, she knew she could read him. And he was bound to know that, too.

Funny thing was, he and Leland seemed to be big buddies now. Leland had written a glowing letter of praise and tribute to, hell, probably the Joint Chiefs of Staff. Leland planned to request Ty's services as a consultant, a "real" combat pilot, instead of a test pilot years away from battle.

Of course, Leland would keep her clear of any military projects. After all, he kept reminding her with a suave smile, she had a Nobel Peace Prize waiting in her future. Apparently, even though Leland saw no place for an In Vitro in that future with her, he had no problem with using Ty for his own purposes.

A female voice interrupted her brooding. "Hey, you're that professor Vince knows, right?"

Megan looked up. The red-haired Aerotech gearhead who had swabbed down Capezzi's tonsils with her tongue stood beside her. All Megan could say was, "Yeah. Hi."

The woman pulled up a rickety chair. "Damn shame about Vince. Makes you want to stay the hell away from these guys. I mean, men are bad enough about waltzing out of your life. And we want to get hooked up with these Marines who stay around about as long as tires on a race car at Daytona in July?" She threw up a hand in mock tough-gal despair. "Then you throw in that stuff about them not coming back from the war ... " Her voice trailed off. She wasn't as tough as she liked to put on.

"I'm sorry," Megan said. "I know you two were close." She swallowed hard, thanks to that "not coming back" part. "I didn't catch your name."

"Janine."

"Megan."

"What ever happened to his tank friend?"

The casualness with which Janine had said "tank" surprised Megan. She had expected more vehemence from the woman, especially after the disdain she had shown Ty.

Megan tried to sound casual. "He's fine. Off somewhere in the war." She looked down and traced her finger over the top lip of her glass.

"Ahhh." Janine's tone was knowing but not sarcastic or mean. "I see we do have something in common."

Megan glanced over at her. She remarked, woman-of-the-world style, "Marines." She shrugged.

Janine smiled. "No, honey." She scooted the chair closer and said in almost a conspiratorial whisper. "Tanks."

"Uh -- " Megan hoped she was confused. "I'm not following you."

Janine smiled mischievously. "Yeah, you are. I should have warned you that night, but I'd been doing shots and was entirely capable of going after him myself, even knowing what I know. I managed to stay the hell away from him. Vince is -- was, God rest his soul -- the next best thing."

Megan felt the color drain out of her face. "You've been with Ty?" She caught herself. "I mean McQueen?"

Janine leaned back. "No way, honey. That one's a heartbreaker on wheels. Nice-looking, clean and an officer?" She shook her head with a knowing smile. "Extra trouble right there." She closed in again. "You don't get it, do you? I bet he kept up with you all night, didn't he? Tanks heal faster, recuperate faster -- whether they're on the job or in the bed. Or against the wall. Or on the floor. And they love the shower, especially when you back them under the spray. "

Megan didn't say a word. The astonishment on her face told Janine all she needed to know.

Janine's parting shot was, "Once you try tank, all others are rank."

Megan winced. No wonder this woman got along so well with Capezzi.

"I didn't 'try' him," Megan said tightly. "He's not a cereal."

"You don't think so? He is a product, manufactured for labor or war. And if I could afford a tank of my own, you bet I'd buy one. Pick him out myself. And, when his time was up, I'd get another one. A replacement. A newer model. Every girl likes something new."

Megan stood up. "I have to go."

"Oh, kiddo." Janine shook her head sympathetically. "You've got it bad. Better you than me." She smiled slyly. "Now anyway. For awhile, though, I wouldn't have minded being you."

Megan realized she had some unfinished business before she left. She turned to Janine and said, "If you ever see him again, you stay away from him."

Janine laughed softly as if Megan had made a joke. "I plan to. Maybe you weren't together long enough to notice, but tanks are lousy at relationships. Everyone knows they don't work and play well with others. They're lazy and about as faithful as tomcats. When you're with a tank, you won't be alone but -- sooner or later -- you'll be lonely. In more ways than you ever thought possible."

Megan almost shot back, he's different, but caught herself in time. She did not need Janine knowing Ty was different. Yet, she remembered his distance and coldness when she last saw him.

"I do hate to end the girl talk," Megan said with no regret, "but I have to go."

Megan left the bar as she had come in, this time and the first time, alone. And she knew she was better off for it. She had work to do.

The End


Previous : Part Four

Rhonda Lane
Last modified on: March 07, 2001
© 1996