2032. Andrew Jennings

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      “I don’t think so.” Ruby said.

      Noah edged backwards, still looking at the screen. Jack also retreated. A group had gathered back from the action. Nervous excitement filled the air. In the gap between what you imagined and what you saw. As if to watch too closely was to somehow cause it to fail.

      Jack swept a hand in the air.

      “Awesome.”

      “It looks good so far. But they will push back. Yes?”

      “Second wave.”

      “But the buildings? They can just sit and defend. We going to wait until they run out of food?”

      “You worry too much.”

      Even those at the front were really just observers. Warfare was mostly autonomous, which in a way made it harder to watch. At least when you had your hand on the trigger, your eyes tracking a target, there was distraction. There was no relief from the frenzy.

      On the tarmac it was a blur of action. Parent drones that looked like huge dinner plates, with several hundred micro drones hanging underneath the plate. They approached each other, and like a swarm of mosquitos they embraced each other.

      “Why not just fire a missile at the thing?” Noah asked.

      “Need it intact. If we destroy it then we have to replace it.”

      “How do they get in?”

      “Cut through the glass.”

      The airport building went black. At first it looked like the displays had failed, but there were sparks of light out on the tarmac.

      “What happened?” Jack asked

      “Power team getting through.”

      “But not to the control tower?”

      “No.”

      “Is there an emergency backup?”

      “Takes a moment or two to kick in.”

      A momentary flickering, and then it was back.

      There were other groups around the room. Clustered around a set of monitors. Power. Water. All of the action seemed to be at the airport for the moment.

      “What’s that? Over there.” Jack asked.

      A single vehicle made its way across the tarmac. Unopposed. For the moment.

      Noah glanced up.

      “It’s ours.”

      It had both side and back doors. They lifted and a swarm of various size robots slid out onto the tarmac. Some raced ahead towards the doors. Smaller and more agile. Forming a procession.

      “Huh?” Jack turned.

      The group gathered speed. As if they were all going to slam against the doors. The front runners climbed the glass and in a flurry drilled - weakening it. Next the middle sized robots laid charges as the vehicle approached.

      It was as if it was going to ram the doors. But just at the point of interception the charges blew.

      A flurry of dust and smoke.

      “In.” Ruby quietly said on the shared channel.

      In the confined space of the inside of the airport terminal, it was too fast to follow. Groundbots firing. Vehicles charging. It was just a whirl of dust. The monitors gave assessments. It held in the balance. All they could do was watch and wait.

      “It’s a mess.” Noah said.

      It was like a physical punch. An actual pressure wave. Noah and Jack almost lost their footing. Certainly they stumbled. Instinctively they looked up. Nothing. The two jet fighters were already snaking low towards the bay. Out westwards. Low. So low. It looked as if they were actually shaving the top of buildings. Did they bring up sand as they turned right across the bay? Or was it their imagination? They kept turning, looking as if the wings were actually touching the water. Almost too fast to follow. Looping back for another run over the city.

      Noah turned to Jack to speak. But his words were lost in another punch from the air. Four this time, banking west out following the railway line towards Richmond. Actually lower than the top of the MCG. Snaking along the Monash, heading east.

      Jack and Noah rushed forward, back to where Ruby was standing. The whole room was watching as the planes banked, and climbed.

      “Jesus.” Noah said. “We under attack?”

      “No. Those are ours.” She said.

      As suddenly as it started, it was over. Overwhelming force meets the remains of the ultra capitalists. True to form they had only left a skeleton defence and headed north. Beyond the Murray all points north aligned with ‘greed is good’ and ‘all the way with the USA’. Leaving them in charge of the southern part of the continent.

      All of a sudden there they were sitting beside the coffee cart again, in shock, and in power.

      “What do you think tipped it?” Noah said

      “As in how much can a koala bear?” Jack laughed. “The aged bonus all paid for with taxpayers money. Remember them?”

      “Yes. I remember the ad campaigns. A combination of the worst of pandering to the old and pandering to dying regions.”

      “So was it the climate trashing?” Noah asked.

      Jack looked up. “That wasn’t great either. But, no, I don’t think it was that. It was, more than anything the deal. The great bargain.”

      “As opposed to a seemingly endless Pacific war where you realise you are on the wrong side?”

      “Yes.”

      “Our powerful and new best friends.”

      “You can’t just go out on your own. Solitary rebellions are smashed. Quickly. Everyone knows that.”

      “So we reject the enduring ties with the land of the free and the home of the brave?”

      They both collapsed with laughter. Those two words in application to the United States of America. There was absolutely nothing free about it, and certainly nothing brave.

      “In favour of the greater east asian co-prosperity sphere?”

      “We are pragmatists. We need friends, we are a tiny rebellion at the end of the world. They are pragmatists like us. It works as much for them as it does for us.”

      Ruby's victory speech

      "Somewhere between 1 and 2" an eager face responded.

      Noah struggled to process that. Of course he meant somewhere between 1 and 2 million people. Where on earth do you put them all? СКАЧАТЬ