Through the Looking Glass Ch. 07

"That's it!" Mitch exclaimed, pounding on the table, "That's where the signal's coming from!"

Smiling, Michael enhanced the picture again and brought up a real time view of the area, showing a building in very poor shape.

"Michael, what is that place?"

He turned to Mitch, "It's... well, it was a preservation museum of some kind; a... historical archive, I think."

Again, Cynthia yelled over her shoulder, "Four minutes."

Mitch flashed his eyes back at the view, "I know this place," and squinted at the center of the caved in building, "What's that in the middle?"

Michael cleared the view a final time, getting the best resolution he could, and zoomed in on a large round structure.

"Oh, I remember this place," he said, "That's the old dome that sat on top of the rotunda; it's made out of..." he stared at Mitch, wide eyed, "...copper."

Mitch nodded slowly, "A conductor of heat and light waves, electricity..."

"...and transmission waves!"

Michael ordered Cynthia to shut down the screen as he and Mitch went back to the map.

"That's your signal source," said Mitch, finding the location on the map, "It's coming from the dome; someone is using it to transmit the signal to the sentries."

Michael eyes lit up, "What do you mean, 'someone'?"

"It's like I explained before: computers and robots are basically stupid; they only do what you tell them to do. They're not capable of independent thinking, no matter what kind of system they use. Those things aren't being controlled by something... they're being controlled by someone."

Michael shook his head, "Mitch, even if there was somebody running these things, how could they be doing it from there? The building's demolished."

"The lower levels."

"'Lower levels'? There are no lower levels there, just the basement and it's probably in the same shape as the rest of the building."

Mitch looked at him, "Trust me, those levels are there; I've been there before... and I know how to get inside them."

Michael folded his arms, "How, dig a tunnel?"

Mitch smiled, determination sparkling in his eyes, "Something like that."

* * *

Lisa moaned as the fuzzy feeling all over her body started to fade, her ears ringing and her breathing coming out in pants. She remembered going after Denise, then a bright light, then her whole body tingled as if she had stuck her finger into a light bulb socket, and then...

She opened her eyes to try to get a bead on where she was, hoping it was back inside the hideout. She tried to move, but her arms and legs wouldn't cooperate. Getting her eyes to focus, she saw very little as it was dark and eerily lit with dim lighting.

The feeling was coming back to her extremities and she put her effort into moving her fingers first, then her hands. But when she tried to move her arms again, they wouldn't budge. That's when she felt something around her wrists.

Startled, Lisa attempted to look up at where her wrists were, but couldn't see at that angle; her arms were over her head. She looked down at herself and saw her nude body laid out on some kind of table, with her legs together and her ankles clamped in metal cuffs.

The machines, she thought, the sentries. They brought me here; they probably brought Denise, too. They stripped me and laid me out... No, they didn't do this. Why would machine want me naked? Unless... they plan on... no, they don't use females for parts, just males. Then... what do they want me for?

Lisa started panting harder as the panic welled up inside her, and struggled against the restraints holding her down, the fear intensifying with the thoughts of what she thought they wanted from her.

"Ugh... ugh... ugh; damn it!" she yelped, unable to loosen the cuffs that held her in place. She started crying as she wrestled against the restraints, determined to get loose, then yelled, "Let me out of this!"

"Oh, good; you're awake."

Lisa's whole body jumped at the sound of a voice, a human voice, coming from all around the dark room. Her eyes darted around the area, wide with fear.

"Who said that?"

"I did," came the answer. The voice sounded a little high pitched and there was some kind of shadow moving off to the side of her, but Lisa couldn't make out what it was, "Now hold still. This won't hurt; we're just going to get you cleaned up a little."

Lisa's eyes darted above her to the sound of mechanical things whirring and clicking over her head, and breathed hard through her mouth in panic as a large clunky device lowered itself over her body.

The collection of pipes, tubes, and power boxes hovered over Lisa and had the look of being pieced together using parts that didn't fit. The upper end was a grouping of tubes and nozzles, with small apertures fitted with soft brushes and sponges, while the other end had thicker tubes and hoses bunched together with odd looking attachments affixed to their tips.

As Lisa's pants came out in tiny yelps, the voice said, "Relax, it's just warm water," as a nozzle tipped tube descended at pointed at her. She cried out as the water sprayed over her body, splashing her face and chest, then arms, and then her torso and legs. Then the brushes and sponges converged on her and rubbed her skin clean, the bristles and rough edges teasing her nipples and pussy.

Lisa quivered as the cleaning stopped and the 'cleaners' were replaced with a vented blow nozzle. Warm air blasted out as the device waved its head over Lisa to blow away the water droplets, drying her in just a few minutes.

"What are you doing to me?" she demanded, "Why are you doing this?"

"Now hold still," the voice answered, ignoring her questioning, "This might tickle a little bit."

The other end of the overhead machine dipped into position, and Lisa started gulping and heaving as something in the table clicked and spread her legs apart, exposing her vagina.

"No! Stop it!"

With tears welling up, Lisa started yelping again as two thick tubes lowered to her crotch area, the ends tipped with spongy nozzles. The top one placed its tip against her pussy lips, making Lisa scream and thrash about as best she could under the restraints.

"It won't be as unpleasant if you just relax," the voice soothed, "now, hold still."

The sponge nozzle pushed passed her vaginal opening and snaked its way inside, Lisa screaming and wriggling. She stopped to catch her breath as the sponge thing filled her pussy and stayed in position, then the other tube lowered and moved just under its top cousin, pushing in between her ass cheeks. Terrified, Lisa yelped and pleaded as the nozzle pressed into her anus and started to enter her rectum.

"No... no... NO... NOOOOO!" she cried out, tears running down her face as the nozzle forced its way into her ass, "Stop it! Why are you doing this? Stop!" She lunged at the cuffs to break loose, but to no avail.

Then her eyes went wide with terror as she felt something flooding her innards. She grunted as the pressure built up from the water being pumped into her vagina and bowels, watching in fright as her tummy expanded.

Just when she thought she couldn't hold any more, Lisa groaned with release as the pumps reversed and vacuumed the water out of her, leaving her empty. Her panicked panting returned as the inner washing process repeated, filling her again.

"Stop it! STOP!!!" Lisa was crying hysterically as the mechanical enema was repeated a third time, then abruptly ceased once the remaining water was evacuated. Lisa collapsed, sobbing as the nozzles exited her body and retracted back into their original positions.

"There now, all clean," the voice returned.

Sniffling and weeping, Lisa spat out, "You bastard! Why don't you come out and face me, you little coward!"

"I told you to relax and it wouldn't be so bad," the voice tried to console.

"Fuck you!"

The voice sounded like it was pouting, "I'm hurt by that; I was just trying to clean you up and make you feel better."

Lisa started to shout out another explicit remark... then her face twisted in confusion as the voice's words finally registered.

I 'hurt' him?

"Who are you?"

The voice didn't answer but Lisa pressed on, regardless.

"I know you're not a machine," she said into the air, "You're not a computer, either; computers and robots can't be 'hurt'. Mitch was right the whole time; 'somebody' is controlling the robots... and that 'somebody' is you, isn't it?"

"'Mitch'... is that your husband?"

"Answer me!"

The voice sighed, "Alright, alright; yes, I'm controlling the sentries. I control everything down here. But you're wrong about one thing, though: I'm not a machine or a computer or a living human... I'm all three. Let me show you."

The lights brightened and revealed a control room of sorts, with computers and monitors lining half of the walls Lisa could see; she couldn't see behind her. Other robotic monstrosities, like the 'cleaner', hung from the ceiling along with cables and pipes dangling down and pieces of equipment that looked cobbled together in between them.

Then Lisa's eyes focused on another ceiling aperture that lowered something, twisting and spinning on its gimbals as if on an overhead track. Her heavy breathing returned as the odd shape drew near, a divan type cradle that carried a body draped in a monk-like robe.

Lisa's bottom lip quivered as the overhead chair shifted position and forced its occupant to sit upright and into the light. A tiny grappling claw dropped down from the headrest and grabbed the hood of the person's robe as the voice said, "Hi, I'm Simon." and pulled the hood away from his face and head.

Wide eyed with terror, Lisa screamed.

* * *

"Okay, this has to be it."

Mitch knelt down along the bank of the river behind the city, its waters drifting slowly passed what trees and brush that remained along its sides. He, along with the four remaining members of the hideout, were staring at a huge drain outlet jutting out of the river bank.

"Are you sure this leads to that building?" asked Michael.

Mitch answered, "No, it leads to a sewer junction box that connects to a utility corridor. That's the 'tunnel' will be using to get inside; it leads to the lowest level of the sub-basements, and that's where we'll find the one running the show."

"You're still sure it's 'somebody' doing this?" asked Cynthia, adjusting the weapons' belt on her hips.

"It has to be. Computers are efficient but they're not smart, at least not smart enough to figure things out for themselves."

"Alright, is everyone ready? Everyone knows the plan?" Michael asked, checking his own gear. They all nodded.

Mitch nodded to him, then checked his watch: 8:42 AM; he had about three hours left before the gateway reappeared, "Okay, let's do this."

One by one, the team edged down the side of the river bank and hopped over rocks and running water to get to the drain. Once they were all standing on the lip, they clicked on lights and started plodding down the wide concrete tube, splashing what little water there was under their boots. After a couple of twists and turns through the dark cavern, they finally arrived at the junction with a set of stairs leading up to an arch covered door.

"That's the only door in here," said Billy, readying his assault rifle, "That's got to be it."

"Remember the plan, guys," Michael said in a low voice, "Don't waste any ammo unless you have to. At least one of us has to get to the area controlling the array sending out the signal. Once that's out of commission, the sentries won't be a problem. Then we get to the control center, wherever that is, and take it out. Once we find our people, if they're still alive, we grab 'em and get the fuck outta here. Clear?"

Again, they nodded and worked their way up the flight of cement steps, Michael shouldering a rocket launcher. Mitch made sure Lisa's bag was still with him and followed them up adjusting the strap on his own rifle, with Billy covering their rear.

Michael cracked the door barely an inch and peeked inside, then waved the others to follow him, Billy hanging a small lamp on the door's ledge to mark their exit in the dark tunnel.

The utility corridor looked like any other, with pipes and wiring trunks lining the walls and ceiling and broken up here and there by junction boxes and power control units. The lighting was dim, and that told them that was a good sign: the corridor wasn't used that often.

As they approached the end of the corridor, Mitch checked his watch again: 9:17AM; two hours and twenty minutes left. The team gathered around the door at the end and Mitch insisted on going first, reasoning that he would be the best one to lead them since he'd been down there before. It was a hunch, but he was almost certain he knew where the control center would be and figured the area where the signal was being sent wasn't too far away from it.

Mitch carefully peered through the crack in the door and, as before, saw an empty hallway; the hall where he and Lisa barely avoided being killed the last time.

"This is it," he whispered to the others, "Stay close and don't make a sound."

They filed out of the corridor one after the other, then flattened themselves against the walls and quickly scanned their surroundings.

"It's this way," said Mitch, pointing to the T-section that led to the huge boiler room, "If the rest of the area is clear, it should be easy to get there."

Sliding themselves along the walls, the group neared the section's corner and Michael halted the team with a raised fist. He counted down on his fingers from three and, when he clenched his hand, the whole group darted into the intersection with their weapons ready.

Every single pair of eyes widened at the sight just ahead of them, with Mitch muttering, "Okay... maybe not."

* * *

Lisa stopped screaming as her breasts heaved heavily with every labored breath, unable to unlock her eyes from the horrid sight hovering above her naked body.

"It's okay," the person called Simon said, "I get that reaction a lot when women see me like this."

Simon had a young face, very young, that made him appear no older than a teenager; smooth unwrinkled skin, unblemished cheeks that looked a bit hollow, and no facial hair to speak of. What could be seen of his hair were sprigs of light brown, very fine and flat. He looked like a typical college kid... with the exception of the hardware grafted to his face and head.

One of his light blue eyes was surrounded with dark metal ridges with wires and a flexible black tube hooked to them, the skin around the edges of the metal was red and swollen. His left ear was obscured with a series of discs stacked atop one another and pulsing with red and green lights. And the crown of his head was completely covered with a cap of shiny silver, cords and power jacks leading out of the top and sides and bunched together from behind.

Lisa couldn't even attempt to talk as she stared at the nightmarish kid above her as he said, "Don't worry about all the stuff on my body; it's still me... well, sort of."

Lisa's confusion took her again as she listened to Simon talking to her, but when he spoke... his mouth didn't move. Nor did the rest of his face, not even a twitch of an eyebrow, but he was plainly talking.

After Simon backed away from the table, Lisa finally found her own voice and said, "You're just a kid."

"I am not a 'kid'," Simon protested, "I'll be nineteen next month."

"What the Hell are you?"

"I told you," he responded, "I'm a combination of all three things: computer, machine, and living tissue. The body is still all me, with a few enhancements here and there."

"Like the cap on your head?" Lisa said, her voice still warbling.

"Oh, the interface scanner; yes," Simon answered, busying himself with a control panel, "It allows me to connect my brain patterns to the main computer, so I can run it more efficiently. I can control anything here with a thought." He jerked his head slightly and Lisa's table tilted up, giving her a better view of the control room, "I don't even have to fiddle with the controls anymore; I just do it to keep my body exercised."

"Who did this to you?"

Simon turned to look at her, though his eyes barely registered a hint of acquisition, "I did; I invented it. It lets me control everything with my mind, it even lets me talk through it using voice boxes."

"You didn't invent those sentries, though," Lisa accused, starting to get some confidence back but still quivering inside.

"No, I... borrowed those."

"Stole them!" Lisa glared at Simon, trying to psyche him out.

"They didn't know how to use them right," he retorted, "I showed them, didn't I; they didn't have a clue as to what we were doing."

Lisa's curiosity perked up, "'We'?"

Simon turned back to the controls, but Lisa wasn't going to let him off the hook for that slip. She thought about it for a minute, then suddenly realized who he really was.

"You're a hacker," she said evenly, "You were one of the hackers that tried to get into the systems running the sentries and computers the police and military had."

"'Tried'? Try 'succeeded'."

Lisa's face twisted into anger, "You hacked their systems and took over, and destroyed almost everyone and everything in the process!"

"They did their fair share of destroying too, you know," Simon shot back, "The towns and cities they leveled, the millions of people they killed just to try and stop us!"

"What did you expect them to do?"

Simon huffed, "Surrender, what else? They had the manpower, the weapons, the fortitude... what they didn't have was brains. Without their precious computers to run things, they didn't have a chance; we proved it. They were no match for our brain power, so we took over."

"Why?" Lisa shouted.

"'Why?'" Simon stopped his work and faced her, "You can honestly ask me that after what's happened? The military taking over with machines and appointing themselves the guardians of the planet. Then the police got into the act and turned every city into a police state. '1984' actually came about, and you're asking 'why'?"

Servos clicked and whined as Simon moved his chair closer to Lisa, "Somebody had to stop them, so someone came up with the idea of hacking into their systems and cutting off their power at the source. Most of them got caught because they weren't smart enough to cover their tracks, but some of us succeeded. It took us a while, but we finally managed to get inside and bring down their house of cards," his body's hand waved at the computers banks behind him, "Everyone thought the machines got smart, everyone thought the computers became 'aware'. Stupid. Computers aren't smart; human beings are... well, some of them anyway, including me."

Simon continued as his chair rounded Lisa, making her tremble, "Others figured it out, how to take control of the machines and stop them, but I was the smartest of the bunch. I took control of them and used them for a better purpose."

"To put yourself in charge?" Lisa threw behind her when Simon got out of her sight.

"I took 'Big Brother' out of the picture, and what thanks did I get? They turned on me, tried to kill me. So I just used the very things they built against them. They've been at it for years, trying to get passed my sentries, but I've stayed a step or two ahead of them. Now, they're afraid of me; now, they'll respect me."

Lisa twisted her head when Simon came back into view, "That's what you want? 'Respect'? You and your little hacker pals killed millions so the ones that are left will respect you?" she laughed out loud, hearing a sputter out of the voice boxes of the computer; she struck a nerve.

"Stop laughing!" Simon yelled, closing in on her, "You think it's funny? You have no idea what it's been like for me!"

Lisa stopped her chortling at that remark; she was getting to him, and listened to his explanation.