When we entered the hallway the
first dozen feet became filled with light from small LED lights lining the
floor. As we walked down the hall
following Sir Terrance the light followed us so we could only see where we
were. I imagine for the humans it
was impossible to judge how long this hallway was. However, I could tell we were going
Northwest and had so far traveled 123 feet.
After several minutes of quiet
Frank asked Lutts, “What do you call your black foam, Sir
Terrance?”
“I call it victory. Actually the real name is F-23. It is the 23rd generation of
the concept. It is now very
effective. In areas where I want a
fast deployment a single F-23 pod can fill a ten meter by thirty meter room in
four seconds. By seven seconds it
has hardened. Any human or robot
surrounded by F-23 will be immobilized and in the case of the human
suffocated. In your case I adjusted
the speed of deployment so that it drove you to where I wanted you and was not
so fast as to entrap you in foam. I
also have a solution I can spray on the foam that will cause it to melt away
rapidly. It allows one to clear a
foamed area very quickly. Once my
business with religion is done I will reopen this laboratory.”
“I think I would rather be taken
out by a bullet,” Frank said with bitterness.
“I agree an explosive bullet
would be far quicker than suffocation.
One attribute about F-23 I forgot to tell you about is that once hardened
it dampens all electromagnetic waves.
It keeps the robotic soldiers from communicating their status. That feature took us twelve versions to
perfect. I used F-23 inside the
hall sliding door to hide my little safe room that you were corralled into. It is a perfect stealthy means for
hiding my assets which will soon destroy your church, Monsignor.”
The Monsignor kept his tongue
silent as Christ did with Pilate.
He felt no words could be adequate to the anger that God would throw at
this murderous man on his judgment day.
“I think I know where Lutts
moved his assets.” Frank said to the Monsignor.
“And where is that, Mr.
Huntington?” asked Lutts.
“As to this laboratory, at the
end of this hall,” Frank said without a bit of doubt.
“Once again, you impress
me. Too bad Col. Mann was not as
smart as you.”
After 1000 meters or 3,280 feet
we reached a steel door which opened automatically for Sir Terrance. Waiting beyond the steel door was Dr.
Larson and several robots.
“Hello Dr. Larson, please have
our robots escort our guests to the holding suite. That includes my loving
wife.”
No one talked until we got into
the holding room. If this was a
prison it was hard to believe. It
was more like a deluxe suite at the Hilton. Frank made a bee line to the bar and
made himself a drink. He asked the
Princess if she wanted one by only holding up his glass. She nodded yes. The Monsignor held up two fingers so
Frank poured him a double. Then
they all found a seat and sat back.
To be honest I thought they all looked shell shocked. Defeat is a hard event for humans to
take.
The Princess was the first to
speak. She asked the Monsignor, “Do
you think the Israeli Government will publicly say anything about the
raids?”
“No, I imagine they will be very
quiet. I imagine they did not think
Lutts had any real defensive capabilities.
The Americans are probably scratching their heads as to what happened to
Lutts’s laboratory. For all I know
they may think it was an Industrial accident. After what happened here I guess Col.
Mann would have pulled his people out of Maidstone and become
invisible.”
“What if we got word to the
Israelis where the laboratories are?” she asked in a hopeless
tone.
“They would have to approach
this in an entirely new way and that takes time to develop. Lutts says he has a chemical that melts
that stuff and that is what the Israelis would need before they would risk
another Special Ops unit,” the Monsignor answered.
Frank took another sip of his
drink and said, “You are dead right on that, Monsignor. As far as a military option goes the
only choice would be to bomb the hell out of his laboratories, but they would
need to know exactly where they are.
My guess is you would have to deep bomb several square miles to be sure
you got it. That is not exactly a
Special Ops plan, but an in-your-face military assault.”
“The Princess made a sour face
and said, “I hope you guys realize my husband is probably listening to all
this.”
“He probably is, but since he
already anticipates everything five moves ahead I don’t think we have said
anything he doesn’t already know or has prepared for.” Frank said as he got up
to refill his glass.
For over a minute no one said
anything. They all looked
discouraged. I imagine they were
trying to come up with a solution to their mutual problem of how to stop
Lutts. I could not see how the
Papacy could do anything. Getting
the Israelis to jump into the fray was a masterstroke, but now the Israelis were
probably more concerned about damage control within their military. Col. Mann’s reputation as a military
genius was destroyed. Frank was
only a journalist and in this case the power of his pen was rather
inadequate. Public opinion was not
going to stop those nano-vectors.
Besides they must realize that they were now prisoners. I am sure they must have realized that
if Lutts wanted to dispose of them all he had to do was bury them in some of his
F-23. I can’t imagine how horrible
it must have been for those robots to be frozen in that stuff until their
batteries ran down.
Finally, the Princess said in a
whisper, “It is up to us, then.”
Frank got up and went around the
room with the bottle and refilled everyone’s glass. It was quiet again. The Princess laid back on her chair and
within a minute was sleeping. Frank
and the Monsignor seemed to be in a stupor and just sat looking at the Princess
sleeping. I saw over by the wall
was a charging station for robots and decided to top off my batteries. Neither Frank nor the Monsignor gave me
any notice. They just kept staring
at the Princess has she lay there with her eyes closed. Within ten minutes they nodded off as
well.
This Web Page Created with PageBreeze Free HTML Editor