Memories of the future. An eyewitness notes
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"It’s a GMA,” she thought, “Good thing that’s not a pack. I wonder why it is alone.” The genetically modified animals were known not only for the large muscle mass, but also for their highly sophisticated predaceous mind. The presence of a sole species could mean only one thing: she had been hunted by a highly dangerous enemy.
Having passed about a kilometer from the town boundary, the girl decided to finally fix her wound. For that purpose, she climbed to the top of a small hill which provided a good view of the surroundings. Wrinkling, she slowly set down, once again looked around the stiff landscape and started examining the contents of her emergency set (first aid for light wounds healing).
She immediately caught hold of a nano-gel barrel for quick healing of light wounds. Having unclasped her suit, she saw an open rough-edged wound that she had received while being carried by the parachute canopy along ragged iron pieces sticking out of the sand. Wasting no time, the girl applied some gel from the barrel on the wound edges and then began waiting. Undoubtedly, the wound had already got infected, and the gel could only stop the bleeding and relieve pain for a while. But that was not too bad either. By nature, she was a buoyant optimist.
"What if I find a medical capsule? But then again, I don’t have a slightest idea of how to get into the abandoned base’s biological unit.” She could not let go of thoughts about the animal and its traces. “Some monstrous beast has gotten hung on me, and – to make matters worse – seems to be moving in the same direction as I am.”
In forty minutes, the pain remitted and the wound stopped bleeding. The girt clasped the suit, took out a water tube nozzle from the collar. The sweetish fluid contained a stimulating agent. Having made a couple of large gulps, she took a deep breath and exhaled so as to increase the blood oxygen level. Now she could go further. She thoroughly fished trough her pants pockets and, having found her hair fixer, she combed her golden sand-colored hair with her fingers and scraped them into a ponytail. While doing her hair and adjusting her suit, she noticed some movement on the hill at a distance.
"The beast might have holed up and is watching me. It’s best to walk in an open terrain. I wonder what such a huge beast feeds on. And why didn’t it attack me in the town? It was the right place for that. And how come it does not attack at all?” she was thinking.
She abandoned her first aid set as no longer useful to free her hands. She took out a pistol, pensively weighted it up in her arms, but her face noticeably darkened as she envisaged the beast’s size corresponding to the trace. She looked at the communicators’ display. The "Personal Physician" suggested injecting an ultra-antibiotic to clear out her blood from infection. The living indicators were slightly below normal. But that was not too bad in her position.
"The rebel base. Direction,” she ordered to the communicator in a calm voice. The latter switched into the “Guide” mode. A pulsating spot on the display located the destination point in some three kilometers to the north-east.
The terrain was predominantly flat with small hills. The once fertile lands were increasingly turning into a desert, and the dull landscape evoked despair. Still it was the beast that she was concerned with.
“The beastie should be smart. I think it’s unlikely to go at me in the open. Looks like, it’s up to attack after sunset. I will have surely found an entrance to the base biological unit by that time. But what if there is no longer any entrance left, as well as the base itself?” she was reflecting.
As a matter of fact, the whole territory of the Wastelands was under constant radar scanning by the Coalition military forces, and surveillance drones were occasionally seen in the sky. Therefore, any radio broadcast, the use of pulsed weapon, or any electromagnetic surge were instantly traced down, with a combat drone being sent to the identified coordinates to annihilate anything that moved. Drones were sent either by a human being’s or the Artificial Intelligence’s command.
Abandoned bases long left by their dwellers presented the biggest threat. In such places, the AI took charge and continued to keep watch off-line. It searched for and identified new targets on its own, sending drones and surface-mobile intelligence modules. In accordance with the program, the AI arranged assemblage, repair and dispatch of drones on combat missions. There was no one to cancel the program, and only complete defeat could stop it. Multi-purpose factory-bases managed either by the AI or human beings were normally located in heavily-protected bunkers. It was exactly such mission that she had been sent on together with her flight and where she had been knocked down before reaching the turnaround point.
“How I am supposed to fire at the beastie, if I will be instantly spotted by the shot impulse and then a drone-hunter will come for me in just a couple of minutes? Judging by the trace, this is not an ordinary cat. I wish I had a bullet gun on hand with more firepower!” She started thinking out loud, which usually had a calming effect on her.
The operators might have seen a thermal wake from the turbines, the missile-target encounter point and the aircraft crash spot from the satellite. The flight team will also report all details. But the base is unlikely to send out a rescue flight, because the crash area is heavily scanned and teeming with drones. And as long as she does not switch on any radiation source, drones will be taking her for a poor little marauder dragging his gain towards a bunker. Any biological object drifting along the Wastelands that did not emit any electromagnetic impulses was overlooked by drones. Therefore it would be suicide to enable a radio beacon.
The “Guide” sent a vibration signal and the display screen featured the pulsating destination point, which meant that it was nearby. She watchfully looked around the terrain: piles of sand-covered construction blocks and iron structures sticking out of the ground; dune tops producing dust under the wind, rusty iron structures and remains of obsolete machinery.
There were no signs of motion. But still she could not let go of the feeling that she was being watched and that someone’s intense eyes were following her every move. Her inner voice suggested that the observer was now very close. She was well-aware of the fact that invisible suits were able to entirely conceal an enemy, tough they were not perfect. At a closer look, one could discern a light abnormity. That’s why she started peering around in search for unusual light effects.
All of a sudden, just a short distance away, near a shapeless bunch of stone blocks, some twenty feet from her, a huge body moved and began growing darker, turning from sand-colored into reddish brown. The light spot was gradually shifting its shape and assuming a form of an enormous animal, lying in the sphinx position. Soon the girl distinguished a huge animal that looked like a wolf or dog at least ten feet long from nose to tail.
Its watchful yellow eyes were placidly gazing at her. Having studied her face, it shifted its glance to her personal bar code on the suit and then again fixed its eyes on her face. Suddenly she felt his presence in her head as a clear impartial voice uttered as though reflecting:
"Chief Lieutenant Alexandra. Nickname: Bjorg*. "Red Wolves" squadron. The Free People. I am an AI standalone unit designed for information compilation, processing and storage. Nickname: Wolf Abel. Division: "Athena". The Free People,” he reported as required by the Statute and accompanied his thought form with a nod.
*Bjorg – Scandinavian: Defender.
Chapter 2
“Sometimes it’s worthwhile talking to a stranger”