wild quality to it. He even heard it, and didn’t care. It was a time to be wild, to be fully alive!
“They’re dinosaurs, my dear; they just don’t yet know that they’re extinct. Besides, the Joes will see only what we want them to see.”
“Don’t underestimate them—”
“Miranda, hush. Just make sure everything is fed to the secure uplink. I want our friends to see the Joes throw everything they have against us.”
“Be careful, my love. The Joes are coming in for another run.”
“Let them come,” said Prospero. Then he switched from external to internal voice mode. “Calibancombat systems to voice control.”
“System on.” Caliban’s computer voice was the only part of this he didn’t like. It was an older computer voice system that manufactured words instead of compiling them from a programmed library. The new voice software package had not been installed yet. He was sorry about that. The voice choices included Morgan Freeman, Mark Hamill, or Joseph Gordon-Levitt. Hamill would have been fun. Luke Skywalker guiding him through this would be fitting. It all seemed like science fiction anyway. Even to him.
“Laser targeting.”
“On line.”
“Uplink to enemy tactical satellite.”
“Uplink established.”
He stepped forward. The servos attached to his boot straps lifted the forty-pound foot as easily as if he wore a pair of flip-flops.
“Skyjack on line,” he said.
“Booting,” said the computer voice. “Skyjack system on line.”
The whine of the chopper rotors increased as the Blackhawks tilted for a strafing run. They’d hammer him again, allowing the laser-sighting system of the drones to acquire him for another rocket attack.
“Initiate Skyjack protocol Prospero One-nineteen.”
“Initiating.”
The satellite display board flashed and cleared, removing all of the identified combat craft. Then one by one they popped back on, but this time each dot was surrounded by a white circle. Before they had all re-appeared the circles were overlaid by white crosses.
Caliban’sdispassionate computer voice began counting it off.
“Blackhawk one acquired.”
“Blackhawk two acquired.”
“Blackhawk three acquired.”
“Blackhawk four acquired.”
“General Atomics Avenger one acquired.”
And on and on until all of the vehicles and aircraft surrounding him were logged.
Prospero smiled. “Prepare to accept command code.”
“Ready.”
“‘ Tempest ,’” he said. Instantly the computer voice rattled off a stream of command codes.
“Destroy all enemy warcraft,” said Prospero. He did not need to give that command, and in truth it did nothing to increase the lethality of the Skyjack program. The virus software would now be rerouting the systems of every automated vehicle, on land or in the air. In seconds the machines sent to test him would obliterate each other. All of that was written into the code…but it felt good to speak the order; when the destruction began it would be at his command.
Pleased, the old scientist sat down on the rock he had thrown and waited.
There were three seconds of silent darkness.
All around him the skies blossomed with white light. Gunfire roared. Rockets fired one after the other. Bombs fell.
The whole desert seemed to explode.
None of the bullets struck him. None of the missiles flew in his direction.
He smiled.
“Destroy them all,” he murmured. “Burn them out of my sky.”
On his helmet’s monitor the blips indicating the Blackhawks and the drones and the fast attack vehicles flickered and vanished until only one craft was left. Then, it too burst into flame and fell like a meteor through the night. It struck the sandstone eighty feet from where he sat. Prospero didn’t even bother to raise an arm to protect himself from the flaming debris.
-5-
The Ice House
Kaffeklubben Island, 440 miles from the North Pole
The man sat alone, draped in soft shadows, his shoulder and face etched by yellow
“They’re dinosaurs, my dear; they just don’t yet know that they’re extinct. Besides, the Joes will see only what we want them to see.”
“Don’t underestimate them—”
“Miranda, hush. Just make sure everything is fed to the secure uplink. I want our friends to see the Joes throw everything they have against us.”
“Be careful, my love. The Joes are coming in for another run.”
“Let them come,” said Prospero. Then he switched from external to internal voice mode. “Calibancombat systems to voice control.”
“System on.” Caliban’s computer voice was the only part of this he didn’t like. It was an older computer voice system that manufactured words instead of compiling them from a programmed library. The new voice software package had not been installed yet. He was sorry about that. The voice choices included Morgan Freeman, Mark Hamill, or Joseph Gordon-Levitt. Hamill would have been fun. Luke Skywalker guiding him through this would be fitting. It all seemed like science fiction anyway. Even to him.
“Laser targeting.”
“On line.”
“Uplink to enemy tactical satellite.”
“Uplink established.”
He stepped forward. The servos attached to his boot straps lifted the forty-pound foot as easily as if he wore a pair of flip-flops.
“Skyjack on line,” he said.
“Booting,” said the computer voice. “Skyjack system on line.”
The whine of the chopper rotors increased as the Blackhawks tilted for a strafing run. They’d hammer him again, allowing the laser-sighting system of the drones to acquire him for another rocket attack.
“Initiate Skyjack protocol Prospero One-nineteen.”
“Initiating.”
The satellite display board flashed and cleared, removing all of the identified combat craft. Then one by one they popped back on, but this time each dot was surrounded by a white circle. Before they had all re-appeared the circles were overlaid by white crosses.
Caliban’sdispassionate computer voice began counting it off.
“Blackhawk one acquired.”
“Blackhawk two acquired.”
“Blackhawk three acquired.”
“Blackhawk four acquired.”
“General Atomics Avenger one acquired.”
And on and on until all of the vehicles and aircraft surrounding him were logged.
Prospero smiled. “Prepare to accept command code.”
“Ready.”
“‘ Tempest ,’” he said. Instantly the computer voice rattled off a stream of command codes.
“Destroy all enemy warcraft,” said Prospero. He did not need to give that command, and in truth it did nothing to increase the lethality of the Skyjack program. The virus software would now be rerouting the systems of every automated vehicle, on land or in the air. In seconds the machines sent to test him would obliterate each other. All of that was written into the code…but it felt good to speak the order; when the destruction began it would be at his command.
Pleased, the old scientist sat down on the rock he had thrown and waited.
There were three seconds of silent darkness.
All around him the skies blossomed with white light. Gunfire roared. Rockets fired one after the other. Bombs fell.
The whole desert seemed to explode.
None of the bullets struck him. None of the missiles flew in his direction.
He smiled.
“Destroy them all,” he murmured. “Burn them out of my sky.”
On his helmet’s monitor the blips indicating the Blackhawks and the drones and the fast attack vehicles flickered and vanished until only one craft was left. Then, it too burst into flame and fell like a meteor through the night. It struck the sandstone eighty feet from where he sat. Prospero didn’t even bother to raise an arm to protect himself from the flaming debris.
-5-
The Ice House
Kaffeklubben Island, 440 miles from the North Pole
The man sat alone, draped in soft shadows, his shoulder and face etched by yellow
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