Gideon stood for the first time in so long, yet his resolve was absolute, "It is time for the rescue mission of the hungry and abandoned to begin. So let the children born of hero heart be the champions of the weary, let them take their strength and lift up the broken, for they are the ones who would lay down life and limb to do what is right. So take your army and give them the right to use the arms God gave them for what they are for, for love, for helping, for kindness and peace. For God loves the brave soul, the noble spirit and the one who protects. That's what love means and that is our faith."
The rescue is a code black. We have more subjects to extract than helicopters. It won't stop us getting them all. We can suspend them from the bottom in harnesses. It'll be the most crazy ride ever but we'll get every last one of them, guaranteed.
The shack looms from the mist, Lyanne inside and the code book too. It's a little hut in the woods with a sloping roof - so isolated, so untechnological in appearance. There is no way of knowing what's under the damp soil, likely more miles if cables than in New York City. But if anyone can get in it's me, the perfect double agent. With one shake of my hands my finger prints change, as does my hair colour and eyes - being part machine is a blessing. At the door I splay my fingers on the panel and my entrance is granted. I am after all "one of them" also. The room is empty until I pull open the trap door and descend into the heart of the beast. I set my heat to "steady" and emotions to "calm" before walking between the sensors. I shouldn't be able to do any of that but I've learnt how to hack my own systems. I go for the code book first, absorb it into my system to download later. After that I'm taking Lyanne out of here even if I have to blow the whole place up with myself inside it.
The cyborg is heavier than we bios and that's our only advantage. He can detect our heat signatures, all we can do is listen for his movement in the autumn leaves. His feet drag so heavily we often find his trail in the damp earth, scarring the ground. Somewhere in here is Tanya, his idea of a bait trap. We get close to her and he encircles us, taking all of the telepaths in one go. She sends us updates, letting us know she's still breathing but time is short. Our only chance is for Grace's hack to work, for her to get into the head of the machine and leak his objectives and plans. It's risky work. If she can get into his operating system there's a chance he can infect hers. We are agreed on one thing; all for one and one for all. Grace knows the risks and so do we. The rescue is on.
I can barely see in the darkness, the light so dim my heart beats all the faster. The sun is setting over the horizon but once we clear the forest the hover craft will take us to Hyanne and the sunshine that is about to fall on her lands. As we pass the prison we'll take Gregor right through the walls, liquify, grab, reset. They'll never know the difference, never figure out how we did it. Compared to the tech we have they're apes, but there are so many of them and protocol demands we live and let live. Rescue's are simply enough, more of a tedium than anything else.
When the call came we moved as one unit, already wearing the rescue gear we'd need. Cam was deep down and it was gonna take all of us to pull him out. We boarded the plane in silence, each of us lost in thought of what he meant to each of us and the sacrifices he'd made. There wasn't a person onboard who wouldn't give their life for his. It was Cameron. Either we all came back or none of us would.
After a time we relaxed. We realized the apocalypse was simply a rescue mission from our creator. For the sheep being corralled out of fear there was only blessed relief and the knowledge that He was really there. For these "common people" there was forgiveness combined with a new mission for all. We were all to be the guardians of Earth - of each other, of the animals, of the environment - and that was the only type of worship that meant anything. He wanted brave lions and lionesses, fiercely loving and loyal, independent thinkers pursuing knowledge. He taught that the enemy was fear and without it Earth would be heavenly. He taught that it didn't matter what religion you were, or if you had none, that letting the spirit of love be your guide was enough. It was time to tell the wolves to stick it and reject a future of being caged and groomed to be "good little consumers." We learned that every action to help was priceless and our lives, our loves, were more meaningful that we had ever imagined. We were called into action and it was the most divine moment in our history.
Tina moves her arms like she's climbing rocks but it's only water around her – water that washes around her body preventing access to precious air. After only a few seconds her brain is in full panic, there are no coordinated movements, just clawing through the thin liquid that threatens to invade her lungs. From her lips comes an explosion of air bubbles, moving away from her at a peculiar angle. She almost realizes she isn't facing upwards, that she's struggling perpendicular to the surface, but already her thoughts are groggy. Her limbs slow down, stop and she floats in the current like a doll. When Dana clasps her wrist she is unaware, but slowly she is towed upward to the daylight above...
When the snow hit it was hard and unforgiving. Against it their bodies bent and snapped like the fragile beings they were. A hundred pounds of human vs a hundred tonnes of snow wasn't a fair fight. Before a cry could escape their lungs they were encased, packed in tight. Their body heat fled into the snow barely melting a crystal and their hearts slowed. After a time the pain stopped. High above them the digging had begun. The transponders had them ten feet down and the crew dug like it was their own lives that depended on it. Friends were friends, and their deaths would take a little bit of everyone with them. Under the brilliant sun it was almost hard to believe the emergency under their boots, and no-one wanted to either. But a few seconds either way meant recovery of slipping away. The shovels became almost a blur and no-one spoke unless it was a grunt; the snow flew in shimmering arcs and the hole grew larger at their feet.
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