Twenty's Mission Log
Chapter 14 - Retirement Day

Retirement Day

Extract from personal log of Guard Unit FV20-B-03 “Trixie”

June 8th, V24 (2044 AD)

Today is my retirement day.

I am a female Guard clone in the Pan Oceanic Special Zone Defence Force. My body and training have been optimised for extended surveillance and sniper functions.

I have been on active Deployment since my decanting in V20 and I am twenty three days short of my four year term.

I was recalled to the central Guards barracks at Pan City two days ago after the incident. A full system scan and mental evaluation was conducted. I was deemed defective by the Archimedes Network and submitted for early retirement.

The duty officer, a human member of the Guard Auxiliary, has collected me from the B Squad barracks at the designated time of 09.00 hours. I was alone in the barracks as the other B Squad Units were sent on refresher training at 06:00 hours.

As instructed all my uniforms, boots, armour and weapons have been cleaned and left in the barracks room locker. They will be utilised by my replacement Guard Unit once their training is completed.

I am dressed in my regulation underwear and a dark blue coverall. My unit designation is shown on a temporary printed strip attached over my left breast. Soft white slippers are on my feet. They feel strange when I walk in them. In all my time on Deployment I have worn tactical boots, except when in the barracks. For those times I would be barefoot.

The duty officer confirms my Unit identification and marks it off on his datapad. He is a tall man but still shorter than me. He does not look me in the eye, even when I stare directly at him. His hand drops occasionally to the pistol he carries on his right hip, perhaps as a way to reassure himself that he is in charge.

If I wanted to, I could overpower him and take his weapon easily. I surprise myself with this thought. I have brief moments where I think of escape, to a life back out in the undeveloped countryside that comprises much of the Zone. I could survive there, my training showing me which local plants and animals are edible, how to replace water and build shelter.

But I would not get that far. The barracks are overseen by the Archimedes AI and it controls all the access doors and hidden weapon systems. It also controls the many Guard Units actively deployed here. My brothers and sisters, the male and female Guard clones. They would stop me from escaping, even if I tried.

His checks completed, he instructs me to follow him. For some reason I feel a small smile on my lips as he turns his back to me and walks briskly away. His shoulders look stiff, as if he expects a sudden blow from behind. I fall in step behind him as he leads me to the garage located in the base of the barracks complex.

When we arrive, I see there are six other Guard Units, four Jacks and two Jills, also waiting to be loaded into the electric cargo truck. We are all dressed in the blue coveralls and white slippers, our Unit ID’s attached to our chests. I wonder if our coveralls and slippers will be recycled too.

The Ident signals from my fellow retirees are a mixed group. Four of us, including me, are near the end of our four year Deployment. Three of them are far younger, including one of the Jills. She is barely a year into her Deployment. She must have been defective from the start, ever since she was decanted. How did Archimedes allow her past basic training?

Four Jacks from the Guard stand sentinel over us, carrying their assault rifles low but ready for use. They are all from A Squad the quantum network shows me, all deployed for less than one year. Fresh meat is a phrase that springs into my mind. I wonder where I had heard that before?

The duty officer orders us into the cargo truck. It is the standard dark blue of the Guard but otherwise unmarked. We dutifully climb aboard and seat ourselves on the bench seats provided. Our sentinels board after us and sit at the end of the hold, two on each side. Our human overseer does not board the truck. His role in this day is completed.

I hear the engine start and a steady vibration fills the vehicle as it moves off. My companions sit quietly, looking straight ahead and showing nothing on their faces. Except the young Jill, now seated opposite to me. She meets my gaze and I note she is wide-eyed. Fear perhaps?

My own mind is behaving strangely. Since the incident I have been feeling something new. My emotional state has always been flat, no ups or downs. We are made to be as emotionless as flesh and blood can be. Our training and the strict rules we live under are designed to ensure this.

Yet now I feel my body reacting to the environment around me in new ways. Like the frightened young Jill before me. I lean forward and place a hand on her knee. She jerks as if I had shocked her.

“You will be fine” I assure her. “They disconnect us from the network and it is just like falling asleep. It won’t hurt at all”

She just stares at me and swallows hard. I withdraw my hand and lean back into my seat. A few of the other retirees turned their gaze to me, assessing my level of defectiveness I guess. I smile back at them all. It does not matter anymore. I close my eyes and finish the journey in darkness and silence.

The truck stops, reverses and the rear door opens. Our guards, for surely that is their role today, stand and move out onto the unloading dock beyond. Another human officer appears in the opening and commands us to stand and form up on the dock. We all do so, but I am the last to stand and file out.

It amuses me to see the angry glare on the officer’s face as I walk slowly past him. I am tempted to reach out and just touch him gently as I pass, but that would trigger a violent response from the Jacks overseeing us. I am not ready to meet my end just yet.

We stand in a single line on the docks, seven of us all side by side. The Jacks are standing about five meters away and facing us, weapons held at the ready position. Our human officer turns from us towards a doorway as a small man appears.

As he walks towards us, the officer salutes him. The man is short, about 170 centimetres tall. He has short white hair, pale features of Nordic origin I think and wears a dark blue business suit. His eyes are covered by dark glasses.

This is Jericho-Three, a living avatar of the Archimedes AI. There are three avatars at any time, doing the work of the AI that requires a physical presence. According to my internal files, each avatar is grown from a cloned ovum and implanted with cybernetics and a quantum processor, much like I was. From his appearance it is obvious the source material was markedly different to my own.

I am tall, over 6 feet in the American measurement, and solidly built. Genetically I was created using a blend of Asian DNA, heavily modified and improved in a laboratory. My features have been described by others as beautiful, but I have no way to understand that. I am identical in form and face to all the other female Guard clones.

If I am beautiful, then I think that Jericho-Three could be described as handsome. He stands at the end of the line of retirees,and walks slowly down towards me. Perhaps this is a final review of his troops before we are recycled into new Guard Units?

He stops briefly before each Unit, weighing them up. None of the retirees meet his gaze, looking stoically forwards. I know his because I am looking down the line, observing his progress with interest. What is it he is searching for in the Units?

We are all classed as Defective, scheduled for retirement. We have nothing of value to give the Guard other than the cybernetics buried in our flesh.

I am fifth in the line. Jericho-Three stops in front of me and I look down into his covered eyes. He looks back at me with his first indication of anything other than boredom. My gaze is unwavering and unblinking. I note a small curl upwards to his pale lips.

Unexpectedly he lifts up his glasses, perching them on top of his head. Blue-green eyes of incredible depth look at me. I nearly blink with surprise but manage to control the impulse. My right eye is enhanced of course, for my role as a sniper, but the left is organic. When scoping out a target I can stop myself from blinking for over five minutes.

I hold his gaze. It is a contest now I have decided. Whomever blinks first is the loser.

“How many confirmed kills are you credited with?” he asks out of nowhere. I blink in surprise. That data would be in my file, easily accessible by him via the network. Why ask me?

“Fifty five confirmed, sir” I answer. Then I realised – I blinked first. He knew the game and beat me at it.

“I win” he said and moved on to the next Unit, lowering his glasses back into place. They gave as little response as the others before me.

At the end of the line was the young Jill. When Jericho-Three stood in front of her, she just hung her head.

“What is your role?” he asked her.

“Civilian Engagement and Surveillance, sir” she replied. She kept her head down, eyes on the floor.

“You were reported by your squad members for unauthorised activities” he said to her. I thought he was going to ask her what those activities were. I was interested to know as I may have done some of them myself. Instead he asked something different.

“How did it feel to be reported by your brothers and sisters?” he asked the Jill.

The young Jill lifted her head in alarm and looked at Jericho-Three.

“How did I feel?” she wondered.

“Yes” he said. “Were you frightened? Were you sad? Did you want to get revenge on them for reporting you to Archimedes?”

“I just felt alone” she said simply.

“Thank you for your honesty. It is an admirable trait in our Guard Units” he told her.

He walked back to the officer and nodded to him.

“You may send this batch for processing” he said and walked off, leaving us to our fate.

We were stood to attention and turned to our right. The officer went to the head of the line and marched us forwards. Our guards formed up in a group and followed behind, matching our steps.

A heavy door marked as Processing – Authorised Entry Only slid open as our line approached. We duly marched inside and the door closed behind us.

Inside we found ourselves facing a long line of individual capsules, each standing upright along a movable track. They had panels that opened on the front and looked like oversized white plastic coffins. In a way for us that is what they would be.

On command, each of us stepped into an open capsule. Myself and the young Jill were the last to enter. She looked fearfully over to me so I smiled at her and told her it was alright to be frightened. It would be over soon I promised her.

The Guard nearest to her stepped forward and pushed her towards the capsule. She sagged to the concrete floor, so another stepped forward and together they lifted her bodily into the capsule and closed the front panel.

I could feel the eyes of the other Guards and the human officer on me. There was no time left and nowhere to go anyway. I resolutely stepped into the capsule, facing outwards. The front panel closed.

It tilted back, laying me at an angle against the padded interior. A pre-recorded voice announced a countdown to processor deactivation. I closed my eyes and when the number reached zero everything ended.

=====

“You should be awake by now” said a voice close by.

I came slowly to awareness, lying face down on a plastic desk. I was seated in a chair, my face turned to one side on the desk. I could see plain white walls in that direction. The voice had come from somewhere behind me.

I tried to access my quantum processor to identify where I was. For the first time in my life, it was unable to access the network. It was still functioning, but I was out of contact with Archimedes and the Guards. It should have terrified me, to be without the connection to my brothers and sisters. I felt calm instead. Maybe I was truly defective.

My neck was stiff, like I had been seated this way for some hours. Or someone had tried to wrench my head off. I pushed myself upright and glanced around. The rest of the room was as plain as my first view. There was a solitary door in the wall opposite where I was seated.

I turned in the chair and looked behind me. Jericho-Three stood there, looking out of a window. The view beyond was of Pan City. We were still in the Retirement Centre I noted but some levels higher up.

“Tell me about the incident” he asked me without moving. He continued to look out of the window. I wondered why. It would all be in the report. The one that condemned me to early retirement.

I didn’t want to answer him. But maybe I wanted to tell someone, anyone, my side of what had happened. So I began.

“I was part of a two unit Interception team deployed on the Zone border. Our role was to monitor suspected incursion routes used by smugglers and other organisations. When an incursion was detected my task was to take down any armed hostiles or known criminals”

“My partner, Unit B-04, would spot targets for me and provide close in defence against enemies. We were a successful team and accounted for fifty three confirmed kills” I said.

“What about on the day of the incident?” asked Jericho-Three.

“Orders had been received that a woman and a female child were attempting to leave the Zone. This was not authorised by the administration and we were told to intercept them, using lethal force” I answered. I swallowed hard. This was not a memory I wanted to recall.

“Did you locate the targets?” Jericho-Three asked me. He continued to look with interest out of the window. Maybe he was watching people move about at street level. With his dark glasses back in place it was hard to tell.

“The woman and child were found to be moving on foot towards a known crossing point at the border. Our team spotted them at just over one thousand meters range. We reported the contact and received command authorisation to intercept” I felt something stirring in me again, like I had that day.

“So you fired your weapon?” asked Jericho-Three. He looked back at me, his face neutral.

“I could not, sir” I answered. My voice faltered for a moment. “I observed the pair and I noted the child was small and the mother was trying to carry them. They were dehydrated and sunburned and in obvious distress. I reported to command that they would be easily recovered by a foot patrol”

“But the targets were listed as killed by your Interception team” said Jericho-Three.

“I was overridden by the Archimedes Network” I replied quietly. “The targets were dispatched using my weapon, fired using my body”

“So you chose to spare them?” he asked. “You are not expected to make those choices. You are expected to obey your orders”

He left the window and went to a panel in the wall. It opened at his touch and he drew out a standard sniping rifle used by the Guard. It was nearly two meters long and fired 12.7mm rounds. It was accurate to over three thousand meters and could penetrate most ballistic armours at two thousand.

The weapon was placed in my hands. On instinct I checked it over. It was loaded with live ammunition, eight rounds in total. It synched automatically with my palm implants and fed targeting data to my cybernetic eye. The quantum network was not needed for this.

“Come to the window” ordered Jericho-Three. He touched a button and the window slid open to the warm air. Gusts blew into the room and buffeted me gently. The view seemed even better with the window open.

“See the people there in the park?” he asked me “Or those over there outside that café?. Pick anyone to shoot and I will reinstate you in the Guard”

“What do you mean, sir?” I queried. “I am scheduled to be retired. I can’t be returned to active service”.

“I run the Guard, Unit B-03. I can do whatever I want with you” he said to me.

“Just take one life of your choosing and you won’t have to die” he added.

I looked out of the window and raised the rifle to my shoulder. Targeting overlays predicted the flight of my bullets, each one capable of ending any of the lives in my scope.

I turned and aimed the rifle at the forehead of Jericho-Three. At this range his skull could be made of Titanium and it would be shattered by a single shot.

“Anyone at all, sir?” I asked him. My finger lay gently on the trigger. The safety was already disengaged.

“Anyone you choose, B-03” he confirmed. He looked straight down the length of the barrel at me.

“Did you save the young Jill as well?” I asked him. My rifle did not waver one millimetre.

“To answer that would prejudice your decision” he replied smoothly.

“Why me?” I asked him. “Why all these games with us today?”

“Perhaps to judge which of you are ready to be saved” he answered. “Have you made a choice?”

“Yes” I answered.

I lowered the rifle and engaged the safety. He took it from my unresisting hands and put it back into the hidden compartment. Jericho faced me once more and gave me a considered look.

“You are no longer part of the Guard” he said. “I offer you a chance to be something else”

“What is that?” I asked

“You can choose to be human” he replied.

“What happens if I accept this offer?”

“You join a small organisation that I like to keep off the books” he said candidly. “You will still have to perform tasks I need done. At times that may involve the deaths of others. Or perhaps your own death. But it will always be your choice”

“And if I choose to refuse your offer?” I pushed.

“I would not recommend it” he said gently. I looked at him and realised he had always known what I would do. Even as an avatar he was way too smart for a simple Guard like me.

“What now?” I asked him.

“Go out that door and turn left. At the end of the corridor is a service elevator. It will respond to your palm implants. Take it to the bottom level and you will be met by someone”

I went to the door and opened it. The corridor beyond was empty of people or Guards.

“Thank you for saving me” I said over my shoulder.

“I am not saving you” Jericho-Three answered. “I am recycling you for another purpose. That is what we do in the Zone”

The elevator opened to a small basement loading area. A black sedan with heavily tinted windows sat in the bay, gleaming under the lights. A tall, heavily built man looked up from his phone as I walked out.

With a shock I realised he was a Jack from the Guard. His black hair had been grown out into dreadlocks and he was wearing a stylish black business suit with a blue tie. He had a thinly trimmed goatee and dark sunglasses on his face.

“Welcome to the club, B-03” he announced. “I’m your driver today. You can call me Jimmy” He gestured to the waiting car. “Your ride is waiting to take you to the party!”

“A party?” I wondered out loud.

“Of course. Your retirement party” he smirked and opened the rear door for me. I ducked my head and sat inside. A young Jill stirred on the other side of the seat and looked drowsily at me. It was the Jill from before. I smiled at her and she smiled shyly back.

“Some of them struggle a bit with losing the network access” explained Jimmy. “She should be OK in a day or two”

He got into the driver’s seat and started the electric engine. As he pulled out from the bay, heading to the exit, he spoke over his shoulder to me.

“You need to give yourself a name. We can’t keep calling you B-03. Have a think about it”

I sat for a moment, looking out the window as we drove onto a city street. I thought about the young child that had been killed by my hand, if not by my intent. Her name was in my memory files. It was an unusual one but I felt I owed it to her.

“Call me Trixie” I said.

End of Part 5 of Millie the Gunsinger