Cybersoldiers

 

General Kinney showed his credentials to the White House Secret Service detail and placed his hand down on a palmprint analysis pad while looking into the iris scanner.

“General Ronald Vincent Kinney, serial Number 737-22-3308,” he said into the scanner.  After it flashed green, he stood and turned to the Secret Service agent in front of the automatic doors.

The Secret Service agent looked intently back and forth between General Kinney and his picture ID several times.  Finally, he smiled and stepped backward.

“Thank-you General,” he said.  “You are cleared to go in now.  He’s waiting for you.”

“Thank-you,” Kinney said and taking his ID badge he clipped it back on his uniform as he walked in through the automatic doors carrying his briefcase.

The President was standing and talking with another man in the Oval Office.  Both of them looked at him and smiled.

President Henderson walked over to Kinney and shook his hand warmly.

“How are you doing today, General,” he said.

“Fine sir.  Very fine.”

“Can I offer you some coffee?” the President gestured over to a table with an ornate silver tea set.  Beside it was a silver platter with small cookies and napkins.

“No thank-you, Sir.”  General Kinney smiled and patted his stomach.  “Trying to keep in shape.”

“Of course,” President Henderson said.  “Well.”  He gestured over to the couch.  “Why don’t we get started then.  I think you already know National Security Advisor Dick Nelson, right?”

“Yes, I do.”  Kinney reached out to shake the hand of the other man.

“How are you doing General Kinney?”  Nelson smiled

“Okay, Sir.”

“How’s your wife?  As I recall she and my wife Janie got along famously at the inaugural ball.”

“Oh, she’s doing quite well.  Looking forward to moving back to Indiana when I retire next year.”

“Of course.  Don’t they all?”

General Kinney laughed and all three men sat.

Kinney set the small attaché case on his lap and opened it up.  He took out a small sheaf of papers and handed them to the President.  President Henderson took his glasses out of his shirt pocket and scanned the papers briefly.

“How far along are we with this so far, General?”

“Well, Sir – we’re doing much better than expected.  We’re further along with this than we are with the Centurion project.  We already have some men lined up as potential candidates.  All of them are superbly skilled soldiers.  Even amongst special forces these men are the top tier.”

President Henderson handed the papers to Nelson who also scanned them briefly before nodding and then handing them back to General Kinney.

“How badly were they injured?”

“Oh, severely.  Some of them were almost beyond saving – and as you know nowadays that’s pretty bad.”

“Have you talked to any of them yet?”

“No Sir.  I wanted to wait until I got the official go-ahead from you first, but our time for that is drawing to a close I’m afraid.  The one who was selected to be the commander, Captain Johannsen is almost ready to be discharged from the hospital and retire on disability.  I’d hate to lose him, Sir.  He’s a Navy Seal and very capable.”

“What happened to him?”  Nelson asked.

“He was in a firefight in Nogales and took a smart bullet from the Cartel to the lower spine which basically blew off everything from the waist on down.”

“Hmm,” Nelson said, shaking his head.

“That was his Congressional Medal of Honor action, wasn’t it?”  President Henderson asked.

“Yes, it was.  He saved the lives of our ambassador, the Governor of Arizona, and the rest of his security squad as they were meeting with the President of Mexico.”

“Yes.  I remember him.  I had the honor of presenting his medal to him.  He didn’t seem to be very happy about it though.”

“No.  Unfortunately, the injury was devastating to him in nearly every way.  Not only did he lose his very promising military career – he was in line for promotion to admiral – but his wife left him shortly after he was injured.”

“Hell of a shame,” Nelson shook his head.  “So, how is he a prime candidate for leading the Cybersoldier Project if he’s so emotionally scarred?”

“Well, all of these men led very successful, goal driven lives.  They were all world-class soldiers and very fit physically.  They were essentially in the same class as Olympic athletes.  Each of them lost all of that in just one fell swoop.  It’s a devastating loss for someone of their caliber.  This is what makes them all prime candidates, since we are essentially offering them another body.  What’s more – it’s an infinitely better body.  With the melding of their intellect and cutting edge cybernetics they’ll be super-soldiers in every way.  Able to do things that are impossible with their former natural body.”

“They’ll be cyborgs – right?”

“Right.”

“Sort of like that – that,” President Henderson snapped his fingers.  “What was the name of that old movie about a cop who was a cyborg?”

“Robocop?”

“Yeah, that’s it,” Henderson laughed.  “I remember seeing that as a kid and thinking that was very cool.”

“That’s essentially the Cybersoldier concept in a nutshell.  These soldiers will have every physical capability that they lost before, but greatly enhanced.  They will be an entire regiment of soldiers more capable than anything ever seen before on Earth.”

“So,” Henderson said, bringing his hand up to his chin.  “Tell me why we need Cybersoldiers then, when we’ll have the Centurion who will be by definition more intelligent?”

“We need them to be able to control the Centurion if somehow the project goes awry.”

“I thought you told us that the other security measures we instituted would be sufficient,” Nelson said.

“They are.”  Kinney nodded.  “But strong Artificial Intelligence is the most powerful – and potentially the most dangerous weapon mankind has every created.”  Kinney paused for a moment to let that sink in.  “It’s simply prudent to make absolutely certain we maintain positive control over him.  The Cybersoldier Project will give us that control.”

President Henderson sat for a moment with his hand to his chin, staring at General Kinney.

“Okay,” he said.  “I’ll sign off on it.  Make it happen.”

“Yes Sir.”  Kinney smiled.  “I will certainly do that.”

“When is it going to start?”

“Just as soon as I leave your office, Sir.”  Kinney stood up.  “Like I said – I don’t want to lose our star commander.”

 

***

 

Captain Johannsen sat in his wheelchair, staring out over the quiet neighborhood around Walter Reed Hospital’s Tranquility Hall.  He picked up the magazine from his lap and once more realized – he didn’t have a lap.  He threw the magazine as hard as he could across the outdoor portico nearly hitting a nurse coming through the door.

“Captain Johannsen!”  She said sharply.  “This isn’t a war zone around here you know!”

Johannsen shook his head and stared out over the horizon.  The nurse brought over a scanner and placed it roughly on his forehead.

“Time for your vital signs again Captain,” she said.

“Yeah, well they’re the same today as they were yesterday – and the day before – and the day before.”

“Still got to get them though.”

“Yeah, yeah.  I know.  The Navy’s got – regulations.”

“Well – you refused to wear a life-monitor so we could check on how you’re doing from the nursing station instead of having to track you down every hour.”

“I don’t want that crap on me.”

“I know, Captain – I know.”

“Listen.  How the hell do you know?  What do you know about anything?”

“Well, I –“

“You don’t know shit, baby!  You know what?  I want a different nurse from now on?”

“Oh?  Why? What did I do?”

“It’s not what you did.  It’s what you are!”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Oh, never mind.”

“No.  If there’s something you’re not happy about – I wish you’d tell me.”

Johannsen sat silently staring off into space.

“You’re too pretty.”

“Oh,” the nurse said as the scanner beeped and recorded the Captain’s medical status.  “I see.  Okay,” she said quietly.  “I’ll go tell the supervisor.”  She laid her hand gently on his shoulder and turned.  She walked halfway across the portico and then stopped and turned around.

“It’s okay, Captain,” she said.  “This was only a temporary assignment for me anyway.  It was going to end when you were discharged from the hospital tomorrow.”

“What – you were hired specifically for me?”  Johannsen scoffed.  “Yeah.  Right.”

“As a matter of fact,” the nurse said, sitting down in a chair next to him.  “That is exactly what happened.”

“Aw, come off it, honey.  I don’t need any patronizing sob-school Bethesda psychobabble.  And I certainly don’t need some dumb-ass nurse feeling sorry for me.  I just need to be left alone.”

“Oh, I don’t think that’s true.  I think that what you need is a new body.”

Captain Johannsen’s face twisted in anger and his fist came up but was stopped by the nurse’s hand just millimeters from her nose.  She looked at him.

“I’m not a nurse,” she said.

Johannsen struck out with his other fist, but once again the nurse blocked it.  Johannsen looked at her suspiciously.

“Who are you?”

“Someone who really does know.”  She reached down to her left kneecap and pushed it.  With a slight whirr, the kneecap recessed into her leg and she reached behind her knee and with a twist pulled it off and gave it to him.

“I was in an auto accident last year.  Silly thing really,” she said, taking the leg back from him and connecting it back on again, pushing the kneecap.  It whirred and the kneecap returned to its normal position.  She examined her leg for a moment, turning it to the side and back, flexing her foot.  “I lost both of my legs and my left arm.”  She held her arm out and showed it to him, turning the palm over twice.

“So – what good does that do me?”

“So – how’d you like to get it all back again – and more?  How’d you like to never worry about bullets or knives or hand grenades ever again?  How’d you like to be a part of a top-secret regiment of supersoldiers?  How’d you like to command such a regiment?”

“What full body Cyborgs?  Can’t be done.”

The nurse just smiled and stood.  She handed him a small blank business card.  Johannsen looked at it and turned it over twice.  He looked back up to the nurse but she was already gone.  He turned around just in time to see the door close behind her.  He looked down at the card in his hand and noticed an odd thing.  If you held it just right in your hand, the warmth of your palm caused a phone number to appear.  He held it up to the light and the numbers disappeared.  He put it back in his palm again and the numbers re-appeared.

As he just sat there staring at the numbers the card suddenly burst into flames.  Johannsen dropped the small flaming card and watched it burn until it was nothing but a small collection of ash moving slightly with the breeze.  Dumbfounded he watched as a stronger breeze broke it apart and scattered it down across the lawn below the portico.

Luckily, as a Navy Seal – Captain Johannsen was trained to be very good at remembering numbers.