Duality quantum gate boo.., p.1
Duality (Quantum Gate Book 2), page 1
CONTENTS
Acknowledgments
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Other books in the Quantum Gate Series:
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Thank you for reading DUALITY!
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About the Author
DUALITY – QUANTUM GATE BOOK 2
Copyright © 2018 by Eric C. Warren All rights reserved.
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
No part of this publication may be reproduced in whole or in part, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, by any means electronic, mechanical, printing, photocopying, recording, chiseling into stone, or otherwise, without the written permission from the publisher, except for the inclusion of brief quotations in a review. For information regarding permission contact the publisher.
Cover Design by © Sabercore23 Art
Content Editor Tiffany Shand
Interior Layout by Sarah Bale
To Meagan, thanks for not giving up on me.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
A generous thank you goes out to everyone who helped make this book a reality. Hats off to those directly involved with the project: Wendy, Tiffany and Sarah, there is no way I could have made this happen without you because though I am a passable writer, I cannot draw, edit or set up interiors. So your expertise has been invaluable. A special thank you goes out to everyone who read and gave me feedback before publication: Linda, Scarolet, Marylyn, and Avril, this wouldn’t be the book it is without your input, so thank you.
And to everyone who was indirectly involved from all my friends and family to the people who don’t even know this book exists despite providing me with ideas, encouragement and support along the way, thank you too. This would not have been possible without the daily support I get from the writer community at large. I’d also like to thank my parents, without whom I would not have an insanely competitive spirit which was the only thing that got this book done on time. Mom, I’m living my dream, thank you.
Finally, I’d like to thank my wife for giving me the freedom to be the creative creature I am, locked away in my office pecking on a keyboard all day long. I love you.
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OTHER BOOKS IN THE QUANTUM GATE SERIES:
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Book 3: Triality READ NOW
PROLOGUE
Frees stepped through the gate, back into the production facility. It hadn’t changed in the brief time they’d been away; bodies littered the area. Half-completed robotic bodies that had once been inhabited by the giant AI Charlie lay about as empty husks. They wouldn’t be replaced. Without Charlie, no one would come around to pick up the mess. Because they’d stopped him, everyone had the chance to be free. If only he could figure out how.
“There.” Arista tapped the control panel for the Quantum Gate; the instant transportation technology designed by the machines. Behind them, the image of the imposing Peacekeepers standing guard in Charlie’s inner sanctum disappeared as the barrier became a solid wall once more. “I guess you were right,” she said, indicating to all the immobile forms in front of them. “What now?”
“We do what we came here to do,” he replied. They didn’t have much time until he’d need to recharge again; he’d only gotten a small boost back there and he still didn’t feel quite right. His limbs responded slowly and his cortex felt sluggish. He’d never been this low on power. “Take two of these husks back with us, store them until we find your parents.” Arista was the last human on the planet, and they had been searching for her “parents”—the machines that took her in as a child—ever since she’d been discovered.
Arista exhaled, then nodded. “I need a good night’s sleep. This has been one hell of a day.” The dark circles under her eyes gave Frees the impression she wasn’t exaggerating.
He couldn’t believe it had only been hours ago when he’d broken her out of Cadre headquarters. They hadn’t even known each other for a full day yet. Time could do strange things when one wasn’t paying attention.
“I guess this is better than nothing.” Arista stared at some of the immobile husks in front of them.
Frees scoffed. “At this point, take what you can get.” He had no desire to go back through the past few hours. Breaking into the production facility, engaging in not one, but two firefights. Then meeting Charlie himself; the giant artificial intelligence who ran the Cadre. He’d even tried tempting Frees, to turn him against Arista. He’d said they had the same goals. Frees had never heard anything so ludicrous in his life.
Arista’s voice broke him from his reverie. “Jonn, he’s still over there, isn’t he?” Frees followed her gaze across the production floor to the area where the firefight had originally begun.
“What do you want to do with him if he’s still alive?” Frees knew what he would do. Jonn had tried to kill them both, all under the guise of friendship. And Frees didn’t suffer traitors easily. If the felp still worked, he’d go over there and shoot him in the face.
“Maybe without Charlie he’s back to normal,” she suggested. Jonn argued Charlie had gotten in his head, made him change. But Frees knew men like him. Men who would say anything to save themselves.
Arista jogged over to the area where she’d pinned Jonn with the giant mechanical arm and Frees shuffled to keep up. His power levels were holding steady for now. “Frees,” she called, her voice slightly panicked. “He’s not here.”
When he reached her, he saw the mechanical arm had been raised, allowing Jonn to wiggle out from being pinned. A trail of fluids led from there to the closest exit on the far side of the room. “Damn,” Frees said. He hated leaving loose ends. “Should we go after him?” Jonn was a potential liability, though with a gaping hole in his abdomen he might not survive very long.
“No,” Arista said, her voice firm. “He’s not our priority. Let’s choose two who are mostly finished and get out of here.”
She was right. He neither had the power or the equipment to go searching for a rogue machine. Not now. They’d have to do it another time. Frees nodded and turned to inspect their options.
It took more trips than he was comfortable making, but eventually they got the two husks Arista had chosen into the hyperloop pods back to the atrium. Now they needed to shunt the power over to the section that would lead them to Jill’s place. There they could store the husks and take time to recoup.
Frees exited his pod, watching Arista do the same, however she didn’t accompany him to the power grid. She seemed more interested in the space itself. She craned her neck in awe and Frees considered how odd this must be for her, standing in what could be one of the very last human-built structures; one that hadn’t been touched since the machines took over. It must feel lonely.
Frees hopped up on the shelf holding the main power grid controls, his hand catching against something sharp as he did. The edge ripped part of the tissue away, exposing his covering underneath. He stared at the hand a moment, the very last part of his false humanity. Was it really worth keeping anymore? He’d managed to tear the skin off all his body except this one hand. He’d told Arista it was because he used it to get into his apartment, but that wasn’t true. He could reprogram the entrance easily. And having a human-looking hand wasn’t a necessity when he went out, that’s what gloves were for. The true reason felt too painful to admit. If he removed this last part of himself, he would have removed the very last part that connected him to Marcus. To that old life and the days before he’d become autonomous.
Arista explored the area with almost a child-like wonderment as he folded the small piece of skin that had been torn back in place. She was such a strange creature, so unlike Marcus it was hard to believe they were part of the same species.
He stared at the torn hand again.
Maybe he shouldn’t be so preoccupied with looking back. Maybe he needed to look forward instead. They still had to find a way to free everyone, and he was convinced Arista was the key to it. But it wouldn’t be as easy as he thought. She’d risked herself for him and he couldn’t just pretend like she was someone to be used and discarded. Arista was his future, there was no denying that. And it was a brighter future than he’d imagined. Reaching down, he grasped the edge of the skin and pulled it back, degloving his hand. “Goodbye, Marcus,” Frees whispered, tossing the useless skin to the side. “Thank you for getting me this far.” It was time to stop looking back.
His hand, now free from the constraints of the skin, moved fast and with purpose. Within minutes, he’d finished shunting the power.
“Ready?” Frees hopped down.
Arista walked over to him. Her eyes dropped to his hand and a smile tugged at her mouth. “Hand me that phone I gave you.”
Frees dug in his pocket, producing the flexible comm device. “Are you going to try it now? Down here?” She was more desperate to reach her parents than he’d thought.
“I can’t stand it any longer.” Her voice echoing through the large chamber. “If the Cadre is in panic mode, they might not care about tracking it.”
Frees screwed up his face. She was exhausted. “You need rest. Take a break, we just destroyed a giant, self-intelligent machine who helped orchestrate our entire society. I think that gives you the night off.”
“I have to find them,” she said, her voice urgent and full of hope. She reached out for the phone in his newly naked hand and kept hers against a moment longer than necessary. A warm feeling he thought impossible moved through him. “Then I can rest.”
She let go and Frees stood back, giving her space to make the most important call of her life. She opened the comm’s codes, producing the holo display and tapped the area above her ear to connect. Her brow furrowed as she stood silent, waiting for something to happen. How many rings had it been?
“Mom?” she gasped and Frees started to go her but held himself back. He didn’t want to interrupt. “Mom, are you guys okay? Where are you?” She paused. “What was that, Mom? You’re breaking up. Say it again.” Her face went blank. She didn’t say anything else. She looked at him, pleading with her eyes. She’d lost the signal.
“What do you need to do?” he asked.
Her mouth formed into a focused frown. “Find them. Now.”
Frees nodded. Then that’s exactly what they would do.
ONE
You’re gonna kill us!” Arista yelled over the roar of the motorcycle. The wind whipped around her, blowing her hair back and stinging her eyes.
“It was your idea!” Frees said, his hood covering his face. He pushed the speedometer past seventy down the deserted country road. A mixture of pine and deciduous trees flew by on both sides of the old road. It hadn’t been repaved in some time, if ever since the war. “You choose the vehicle, you live with the consequences.”
“When I chose it…oof!” She grabbed onto the back of his jacket as they hit a snag in the road, sending them twenty-two inches into the air. “When I chose it…” she started again, “I thought I would be driving.”
“How would that work with just one hand?” Frees asked, putting his head down, sending even more wind in her face.
“I guess you’ll never know.” She ducked, creating a slipstream above them. The motorcycle increased to seventy-seven mph. Perhaps she still wasn’t used to her injury, despite the fact it had been almost a month since she’d lost her hand; since all this began. The thought she couldn’t drive hadn’t even caught in her brain. She’d just seen the motorcycle, sitting there on the side of the road and had the inexplicable urge to ride it. To feel the wind against her. They had stolen it from someone, but they would take it back in a few hours. And if the owner reported it stolen then they’d be able to keep it. They had needed some sort of personal transport for a while and a land vehicle was much less conspicuous than a flyer.
“Another one coming up!”
Arista ducked down even further and grabbed Frees tighter. The motorcycle jumped, this time reaching twenty-nine inches. She couldn’t help the adrenaline surge through her body at each bump. Each one was more precarious, more thrilling, and more likely to throw her off. The Device flashed warning signs in the corner of her vision notifying her that her levels were too high. But over the past three weeks, she’d learned to ignore the artificial device attached to her brain. It had saved her life on more than one occasion, but these days its constant warnings were more of a nuisance than anything else.
“Almost there,” Arista yelled over the din. “It’s a left up ahead!”
“I don’t see it,” Frees yelled back to her.
“Trust me!”
The motorcycle slowed to a much more manageable thirty mph as they approached a large bank of trees on the left. Sure enough, a hidden path on the other side would take them to their destination. Arista released her grip and sat up, taking in the fresh air and smells she’d been missing for so long.
After everything that happened at the Cadre, it felt good to be back outside, back in nature, even if they were still only just outside of Chicago. It was the only place they could find any actual organic fruits or grains for her to eat, none of the real stuff ever got shipped into the city. She’d been wondering about that more and more. Because it meant there were other “farms” that produced items such as apples, bananas, peaches, etc. for the machines’ consumption, but unsuitable for human digestion. She’d been meaning to ask Frees about visiting some of those facilities but it never seemed important enough. The others didn’t need food. They had all they needed from Jill’s energy drives.
“Begrudgingly, I admit defeat.” Frees slowed the motorcycle as they pulled up to a large gate. On the other side were rolling fields of grain and barley, complete with a farmhouse, barn, a small building for refining and even a storage silo. “This is it, right?”
“This is it,” Arista said, swinging her leg off the motorcycle, careful to mind the storage compartments on each side. She’d gotten pretty good maneuvering with just one hand. Frees suggested some sort of prosthetic on occasion but she’d refused, saying unless it was an actual hand she could control, it was better she learn how to do everything without it.
“Same as always?” Frees asked, turning off the cycle and approaching the aluminum gate.
“I don’t see why it should be any different,” she replied.
Frees approached the gate, grabbed a hold of the chain locking it and gave a sharp tug, ripping it away from the metal. He swung the gate open. “Livestock?”
She surveyed the area. “Not that I can see or detect. When have we ever seen any?”
“I like to be thorough,” he said. He left the gate open as they approached the house. A heavyset man emerged from the front door. As scheduled.
“This place reminds me a bit of home,” Arista said, keeping her voice low as they walked.
“The one in Alabama?”
“Yeah, except we only had a one-story house. This one is much nicer.” It was an older house, that much was clear, but it had obviously been repaired and reinforced over the years. Half of the siding one side was fading at a different rate than the other half. Some of the balustrades on the porch didn’t match each other and the shingles on the roof were at least three different colors.
“What do you think about this one?” Frees asked as they approached. “Go or stay?”
“I’ll bet stay this time. And if I win, I’m driving us back.”
“Now wait—”
“Hello!” Arista said, calling out to the man on the porch. He stood, watching them grow closer and eventually put up his hand in response.
“Howdy,” the man said in a monotone voice, seemingly unconcerned with their presence. He wore a pair of dusty overalls covering a checkered shirt and his eyes were a deep brown, almost black in fact.
Not for long.
“We’re here to take some of your supplies off your hands.” Frees smiled as they came to a stop in front of the man.
“Delivery’s not for another two weeks,” the man said with a pronounced southern drawl.
Despite the fact they were still standing in rural Illinois, Arista couldn’t help but find this amusing. “Yes, sir, we know. We’re taking them anyway.”
