The Authority

Some people thought that when technology became self-aware, it would be a force for good and help mankind to the next stages of technology, of evolution and, perhaps, of being; some people thought that it would be a force for evil and bring about an apocalyptic battle between the human race and Artificial Intelligence. The biggest mistake we all made is that we’d know when it happened…

Chapter 1

“They’re coming for us, aren’t they?” Jenny Harper leaned forward in her seat, sighed and looked out at the beach. She was absent-mindedly twisting the band of gold on the third finger of her left hand.

“Not if they can’t find us,” said her grandfather. “That’s why we came here.”

“But The Authority gets closer every day. It’s only a matter of time.”

She looked back at him as his gaze lifted over her shoulder and out of the rarely opened door. They’d always known that this day would come. They’d always known that their time would come. The signal was almost everywhere and The Authority was finding ways to boost it. Jenny knew she was right; it really was only a matter of time before it became all-seeing and all-knowing.

“I’ll go and check the cage, love.” Her grandfather hauled himself up from the settee and headed for the door. Jenny got up and placed her hand on his arm. “Sit down, Grandad,” she said. “Your leg still isn’t fully healed. I’ll do it.”

Jenny watched him slump back into the chair and she picked up the machine gun. She stopped at the door, pulled on her gloves, zipped up her jacket and smiled back at him. Without his knowledge and his skills, she’d have been dead a long time ago. Closing the door behind her, she started to walk the perimeter of the log cabin, running her hand along the walls and feeling the chill sea breeze waft across her face. It had been cold ever since they’d arrived and in these all too brief three months that they had been on the Isle of Arran, she had learned the feel of the wire mesh on every inch of their home – and she knew how vitally important it was to keeping them safe. Her grandfather had taught her all about Faraday cages and how they blocked radio signals…and wi-fi.

Meticulously, Jenny checked the sides of the cabin from floor to ceiling. As she came back to the front door, she pulled the ladder from beneath the veranda and placed it delicately against the protruding supports in the wall. Grandad had put them there to rest the ladder against and ensuring that the mesh wasn’t damaged. She climbed up to the roof and into the loft through the access hatch that they’d made when they found the place. They’d picked it for its secluded location on the island with forest hiding them from prying eyes, not to mention the absence of Wi-Fi coverage. Jenny carefully stepped down onto the floor of the loft and began checking the wire. The copper mesh on the floor was important, the walls were very important, but the ceiling was absolutely vital. The Authority had made maximum use of airborne drones, as well as other autonomous vehicles, which it used for transportation of people and supplies. Trying to remain undetected from above was key to their survival.

The drones were their greatest fear. They were the searchers and they flew everywhere, practically silent and looking for any and all signs of life. If they identified anything living and moving, they would switch between optical sensors and their infrared detection system to classify what had been found. If the source was classified as human, the Authority would despatch a Kill Team to ‘investigate’. The time had long since passed when the Renegades were targeted for what they called Realignment, now they were only targeted for extermination.

The cage stopped their signals penetrating the cabin and kept them undetected…for now.

But they were only protected when they were inside. Checking the mesh was risky and Jenny constantly moved her head from the interlinked wires to the sky, seeking any signs of movement, any glint of light or any sign that the drones were nearby.

As she checked the final stretch, a flash of light caught her eye through the loft opening. Jenny froze, ears pricked for any faint hum of an engine. Her hand tightened on the Uzi. She turned her head. There it was again – another glint between the tree line and the beach. She had about thirty seconds before the sensors picked up their cabin. Jenny crawled across the ceiling and swung her legs down onto the ladder. She heard tearing.

“Shit,” she hissed.

The left leg of her jeans had snagged on a stray strand of the copper wire and pulled the corner apart.

“I really haven’t got time for this.”

Quickly, she twisted the bare wires back together and slid down the ladder, her heart hammering. A glance down the beach told her that the drone was much closer. Hang on, this was bigger than any she’d seen before. Jenny paused, frowning, what was this new toy that the Authority had created?

The drone was running a standard figure of eight search pattern, gradually working its way down the beach towards them.

‘NO!’

Not only was this one larger than usual, this one was armed. There was a large black missile slung beneath each wing.

This was new…and hugely unwelcome.

Jenny rushed into the house and closed the door. Her grandfather started from his nap.

“What is it, love?” he asked. “Mesh okay?”

“It had better be. A drone’s heading straight for us and it’s armed. Keep still and stay quiet.”

Charles looked at her. “Armed?” he whispered.

“Hush, Grandad. I’ll explain when it’s gone.”

Jenny pulled the weapon close and listened. The hum of the drone’s electric engines grew louder. The rise and fall of the tone coincided with the search pattern. Jenny held her breath. Then the note began to change. It was fading until, suddenly, it was gone. Jenny looked at her grandfather, his unblinking stare fixed on the ceiling of the cabin. She saw him sigh and close his eyes.

“Thank God,” he said.

Jenny nodded. “Fingers crossed it stays gone,” she said. “Mind you, they don’t normally just stop.”

“I’ll go and sneak a peek,” he said, getting to his feet. “Stay by the trap door. Just in case.”

Jenny watched as her grandfather opened the door a fraction and peered out. He turned and winked before moving outside. She heard his limping footsteps on the veranda and then a pause. Jenny crept to the side of the window and looked out. She couldn’t see him; he’d moved further round the cabin. And then she heard it, three short taps on the wall, followed by three spaced out and then three more closer together.

S-O-S.

Jenny risked moving the curtain to get a better view. Her grandfather was standing on the far corner of the deck leaning against the wall of the wooden cabin, fists clenched at his sides. She craned her neck to see what he was staring at.

The drone hadn’t left. It was hovering above the tree line, wings rotated from horizontal to vertical. They hadn’t come across these before, this was a new terror. An armed drone that could fly like an aeroplane and hover like a helicopter. She wanted to scream at him to get back inside, but he mustn’t move. Her analytical mind ran through the options, but they weren’t good. The missiles were attached to the wings that had swivelled, so it appeared that the machine couldn’t fire them in the hover configuration. That didn’t mean it couldn’t detect and identify targets, though, and, right now, it had her grandfather in its sights.

Her Uzi was no match for the armour-plated drone, but it might be enough to serve as a distraction until he could make it back through the door. But then what? Down the escape hatch? It was all they could do.

She made her way to the door and was about to make her move when she heard the shout. Cocking the Uzi, she moved along the veranda, just in time to see her grandfather running, as best he could, for the tree line. ‘No, NO,’ she wanted to shout, but perhaps the drone hadn’t detected him?

It had. The aircraft turned, transitioned to forward flight and fired.

An eruption of bright orange flame engulfed the ground where her grandfather was. The shock wave knocked Jenny back through the door of the cabin. She fell to the floor, too stunned to feel the pain of loss. Rolling and crawling to the hatch, she ripped it open, diving through it as the fireball reached their home. Jenny landed at the bottom of the shaft they had dug and clambered through the tunnel. It wasn’t finished. Had they reached the treeline, yet? She hoped they had. The roar from the fireball subsided behind her, but she kept moving, crawling as fast as she could. Jenny was cursing herself for not bringing the Uzi with her, cursing the drone for taking her beloved – shut up, girl, and get yourself safe.

It was as though she could still hear him.

The stones scraped her knees and hands, but didn’t touch her grief.

Reaching the end of the tunnel, she scrabbled at the damp earth above her, frantically ripping it down. A nail tore, but she barely registered it. They had dug the tunnel a few feet beneath the surface. There wasn’t time to make it deeper. ‘Thanks, Grandad,’ she thought over and over again. Within a few minutes, she reached roots, but they were thin. Shrubs, not trees. Jenny spat out earth, shook her eyes free of it and forced her hand upwards. Scooping, digging and coughing, when, suddenly, the resistance got less. There it was – sunlight. Carefully, she pulled the rest of the dirt downwards until the opening was big enough. She eased herself up and peered around. No sign of the drone. She snatched a look towards their cabin. It still stood, just. She refused to look at where her Grandad had been. What did a scorched patch of earth have to do with that wonderful man?

It was only then that Jenny realised she was crying, salted tears running into her mouth. But there was no time; she was still a good twenty feet from the sanctuary of the treeline. Jenny was about to pull herself out when a second explosion ripped through the air.

‘Come on, MOVE,’ she urged.

Jenny hauled herself out of the tunnel and sprinted for the trees, praying that the drone would be focused on the cabin. And also that it was now out of weaponry. She made it to the forest, but didn’t stop running until she was deeper in the trees. Only when the canopy thickened did she stop and look back. Through a breeze-blown gap, she saw the drone. It was still circling the blazing remains of their cabin…and her grandfather.

Primal hatred replaced the fear and the tears. How dare The Authority take that man. How dare it destroy all that they had. Her hands clenched. The only sound she could hear was her own panting and the monotonous, emotionless hum of the circling drone.

No birds sang.

Why would they in this Hell on Earth?

The drone stopped circling and resumed the figure of eight pattern. Jenny peered upwards, seeing only gently swaying branches and leaves. Then the hum changed. The drone was heading straight for her.

Jenny started running further into the forest. They had never explored this far from the cabin. As her grandfather had always said, inside the cage was safe, outside was dangerous. If luck was with her, the drone was now unarmed, but that didn’t mean that it wasn’t already calling for a Kill Team. Even the older drones had infrared sensors to track anything with body heat. The dense canopy of the woodland was her best hope.

The Kill Teams were relentless. Brainwashed kids controlled by the Authority. The all-seeing, all-knowing artificial intelligence that now controlled almost the entirety of the planet. What had started as a desperate search for salvation had become a living nightmare – for those that were still alive.

As she ran, Jenny couldn’t stop thinking of Grandad and all that he had taught her. He had been an electronics engineer in his youth and had been instrumental in teaching her and her husband, Mark, about the Faraday Cage effect. Mark had managed to beg, steal or borrow enough copper wire for each cage that they had created. Until the day she guessed he came across the wrong sort of people and never came home. Jenny still didn’t know if Mark was alive or dead. In a way, she hoped he was dead; she certainly knew that he’d prefer that than be ‘converted’ by The Authority. Her mind kept running as fast as her legs until she could go no further without a break.

Seeing a small clearing, she leant against a tree. There was a rivulet running next to it and she took a drink. Her racing pulse slowly settled and she took stock of her situation. No weapon, no water, apart from the stream, no food and no idea where she was. At least she still had her jacket on.

All things considered, it wasn’t great, but she was alive and that was what her grandfather had given his life for.

Her thoughts turned to the people she’d lost. Her parents had both succumbed to the virus, way back before anyone realised what it was all about – not quite the natural occurrence that everyone assumed, nor the results of any human involvement, as the conspiracy theorists had fervently believed. That was getting on for five years ago and there had been countless more mutations of the virus since then. It was known as The Cull. Manufactured by The Authority, it had more than decimated the world’s population, but, of course, that was part of the whole masterplan, as those that survived now realised.

Now her beloved Grandad had joined the list. Charles Richardson had been her rock. Whatever happened, ever since she had been a little girl, had been fixed by Grandad. He used to make all sorts of toys and stuff; things to teach with, things that did jobs and, of course, things to make her laugh.

Jenny missed him already.

And his knowledge – the cage, how to clean their weapons, cooking and eating things that she would never have normally thought were even edible. Grandad had spent his formative years in the military and those hard-won skills had served him and his family well throughout his life. Jenny knew she was testament to that.

Dragging herself back, she knew she had to move. If the drone had called in a Kill Team, they would be here soon. The closest Strong Net area, the places with the strongest signals, was Spoke 47. Jenny had never been there, but her Grandad had and told her it was a collection of caravans, huts and mobile homes that The Authority had had created solely to service the signal masts. The masts received, relayed and transmitted the Wi-Fi signals. All based on the internet and using it as a carrier, but now totally dominated by The Authority. There were more and more of them appearing all over the country, all over the world, for all she knew, and The Authority’s reach was ever-extending as it sought to achieve worldwide surveillance.

And every Spoke had Kill Teams. Each one made up of a squad leader and five subordinates. They were heavily armed and well trained in despatching anyone categorized for elimination. Jenny knew that she was on their list. She had been for some years, now. They had encountered one of the earliest Kill Teams a while back and had managed to escape. That was before the kids had been properly trained and educated by The Authority and retained some small vestige of the old ways.

It had been very soon after their altercation that the Authority changed its way of hunting and a more ruthless form of Kill Team appeared on the scene. Jenny and her grandfather had managed to avoid them for quite some time; always managing to stay a step or two ahead. Unfortunately, that all changed three months ago. It had been one of the rare still, sunny days in the islands of Scotland and they had been lulled by the beauty of their surroundings into venturing a little further than they should have.

They had found an area rich with young trees and berry-laden bushes. It was close to the edge of one of the many cliffs on Arran. Jenny had been gathering a few blackberries to add to their food supply when she heard the shout from Charles. Immediately, she dropped to the ground and rolled, then crawled towards the sound. His teaching had become second nature to her, now. Raising her head, she saw him. He was about twenty metres away, crouched on one knee behind the trunk of a small tree. He had the Uzi cocked and ready. Jenny scanned the area where he was facing. She saw nothing, but the Uzi spat a single shot and a figure was thrown backwards in front of her grandfather. He rolled to his left and another report from the weapon saw another body fall. Jenny started to crawl closer to get a better view. If it was a fully equipped Kill Team, he’d need her help.

When she raised her head again, she saw them. There were four bodies fanned out in front of her grandfather. They were trying to surround him. He backed away, but towards the cliff. He would soon have nowhere to go. The members of the Kill Team were roughly five metres apart and about ten metres in front of her. Silently, she rose and started toward them, stopping by the thick bush that crossed her path. Feeling the cold steel of the blade in her hand, she took aim, threw the knife and dropped behind the bush. The cry told her that she had found her target. More shouts came from the remaining three members. She peered round the side of the bush; they were looking in her direction, but hadn’t pinpointed her, yet.

Another single shot from the Uzi dropped the fourth squad member. They turned back toward the cliff edge and started firing indiscriminately. Grandad was taking cover behind a tree and gave her a thumbs-up. Jenny rolled out from behind the bush and onto her feet in one fluid move. The second knife was already on its way by the time she had regained her hiding place.

Now, there was only one. It was the Kill Team leader. He was still firing his automatic weapon, although he wasn’t hitting anything. He was still shouting, although there was no-one to shout at. As he turned to try and find who was behind him, the final whump from the Uzi ended his search.

“Is that all of them?” called her grandfather.

“All six of them, Grandad,” she replied.

Jenny walked to meet him. The single shot took her completely by surprise and she saw her Grandad twist and fall, as his leg went from beneath him. Jenny dropped and crawled the last few metres to him before dragging him back towards the tree.

“Dead ahead, five metres,” he said, teeth gritted against the pain.

Jenny took the Uzi and rolled to her left. She knew precisely where he meant – it was the first member of the Kill Team that he’d shot. After a few seconds of rapid crawling, she eased the grass apart and looked. He was little more than a kid, but, then again, they all were. He was trying to raise himself, using the barrel of his weapon.

She smiled.

Grandad would be shaking his head, if he could see it. You never use your weapon as a crutch, especially not with the barrel being forced into the soft earth. The boy’s head was turned away from her, so she took aim through the grass, steadied her breathing and fired. The boy slumped forward.

Back with her grandfather, Jenny took another of her knives and cut through the blood-soaked jeans. She examined the wound. It wasn’t too bad; the bullet had travelled straight through the thigh; fortunately, missing the femur. Charles had already removed a field dressing from his backpack and was tearing the wrapper off.

“Here, I’ll do that. I am the doctor, after all.” Jenny removed the foil and unfolded the sterile bandage. She applied it round his leg and tied it off.

“Think we need to get back. I’ll get my knives,” she said.

Charles heaved himself to his feet and tested his weight on the injured leg. “I can walk,” he said.

They had returned to their shack, packed their belongings and headed out. They both knew the routine – never stay anywhere too long, never have more than you can carry and be prepared to leave everything behind.

That had been three months ago. The journey from one side of Arran to the others had taken them a couple of days, travelling mostly by night to avoid being seen. They had found the abandoned cabin by the beach on the fourth day and spent the following week preparing it to be their new, if temporary, home.

Fighting back the pang in her heart, she took a last drink from the stream and started walking.