The Impossible Future: Complete set by Frank Kennedy (mini ebook reader .txt) 📕

as Michael witnessed outside the fold, a massive peacekeeper in a crimson, armored bodysuit and matching helmet obliterated the enemy. The soldier stepped toward the defeated, looked over them, and turned his blast rifle to the man Sammie hit in the leg. He shot the enemy through the head.

The peacekeeper motioned for Sammie and Michael to hold still. He looked in every direction, tapped the side of his helmet, nodding his head as if receiving orders, then waved the two forward. Two other peacekeepers came into view, also as if dropped from the sky.

“You OK?” Michael whispered to Sammie, who nodded.

As they approached the peacekeeper, Michael couldn’t help but think he cheated death more than his fair share.

“Damn, you guys are wicked,” he told the soldier. “You always time things out like this?”

“Apparently,” the soldier said beneath his full-facial helmet. Michael could have sworn the voice sounded just like… he didn’t want to think it. Then the peacekeeper tapped the side of the helmet, and his face plate folded away.

“This was my first time,” he told Michael. “But yeah. We pride ourselves on our timing.”

Michael dropped his pistol. “Jamie?”

35

UG Admiralty Scramjet Ericsson

20 minutes earlier, over the Atlantic

 

J AMES BOUCHET STEPPED FROM THE RECON TUBE clothed in the crimson armor of a peacekeeper, holding his helmet at his side. Valentin was right: The fabric fit his body better than a glove. It stretched and bent with every ripple and flex, every curvature – no matter how subtle. Yet it left him room to breathe, neither heating nor cooling his body. It expanded and shrank as if organic.

A full-body shield. Armor of the gods.

No wonder so few peacekeepers had died over the centuries. How hopeless the colonists must have felt when these red-suited beasts dropped from the sky.

James now understood his brother’s pride in the UG, in the glory of keeping the colonies at bay, in the slaughter necessary to cull the herd of discontent. James, as tall and musclebound as the six other combat-ready peacekeepers, tapped into Valentin’s pride. He embraced the adrenaline drawn from his commanding physical prowess, an intellect expanding exponentially through the trigger of keywords, and a taste for where the dark might lead him.

Valentin approached and pounded fists on his brother’s shoulders.

“You wear it well,” he told James in a hushed tone. “Too bad they deprived you of your prime fighting years.”

“Better late than sorry.”

“This will not be a simulation, brother.”

James pounded the shoulders of the brother he killed three days ago. “I need no more practice.”

He was right. The simulators taught him everything he needed: weaponry, tactics, protocol. In less than a day, the Jewel granted him access to years of peacekeeper training, restructuring his mind and heart into a creature prepared for any battle scenario.

So, James wasn’t surprised when Perrone and Maj. Marshall announced an emergency combat rescue and demanded James take part. In three days, he journeyed from prisoner to front lines.

Before departure from the Great Plains Metroplex, the admiral revealed a surprise: He installed James Bouchet into the Unification Guard registry. James’s combat history, including commendations from three different battalions, was a staggering forgery never to be uncovered, Perrone insisted. His twinkle reflected smug confidence and said this practice was not uncommon. It was also, as Valentin pointed out, necessary.

“The others have to know you’re one of us,” he said of the peacekeepers dispatched to the admiral’s Scramjet. “If they knew your true nature, they would never accept you.”

James wondered what they might think of Valentin, the immortal. In the back of his mind, James sensed a future not too distant where Chancellors might have to make these judgments: Concede to the next evolution of humanity or fight them to the death.

Until then, these unexpected turns played into his hands, and James did not minimize his good fortune.

Minutes later, they gathered around a holographic construction of their target zone on the Isle of Seneca. Admiral Augustus Perrone, who boarded without his No. 2, Maj. Sexton Marshall, displayed the southeast quadrant of the island and established the mission parameters. His first message: Avoid civilian collateral damage.

“We have triggered the facility’s lockdown protocol,” he said. “All potential combatants have been isolated and identified. Their stream implant frequencies will be relayed to your DR29 grids.” He nodded toward the helmets each soldier carried at his side. “We see no civilians on external scans. For now.”

“And the combatants, sir?” A peacekeeper asked.

“Two groups, one under the payroll of our allies, and the other subject to extermination.” He brought up an additional layer highlighting human movement within one hundred meters of the facility. The differentiation became clear at once. Fifteen signals flashed red, while twelve flashed white.

Perrone pointed to the red beacons. “Isolate and kill the enemy with prejudice. No negotiation, no quarter. Do we understand?”

The admiral’s eyes circled the soldiers, but he stopped at James, who did not hesitate to nod.

You think I might hesitate, he thought. You’re testing me. Good.

“We will blanket the island with a global stream block once you hit the ground. The block can withstand countermeasures for eighty seconds. Therefore, you must annihilate the targets with efficiency. Gentlemen, I do not have to tell you that initiating a GSB on Earth directly violates the Chancellory’s privacy protocols. We must allow none of our targets to report this maneuver. Understood?”

“Aye, sir,” each soldier said.

“Once the enemy is neutralized?” Valentin asked.

Perrone pointed to locations east and northeast of the facility. “Team A,” he said, nodding to soldiers at his right flank, “will rendezvous at the transport center. Gather our allies and prepare for immediate departure via their own shuttles. Team B,” he nodded to James, Valentin, and a soldier two inches taller, “you and I will meet at these coordinates and proceed on foot north.