Chương 130: Vol. III Chapter 6 “Like I said, it gets cold up here.” (Part 2 of 2)
Burton strode through sublevels of Vault X, alone. As he had done every week for five years. Large rooms, like warehouses, off a main corridor. He'd learnt not to look at the thick door at the end of the long hall, behind which sat the missile room.
After arming them that first night he hadn't been back in. He hadn't even gone in while the bots moved the equipment and failed prototypes in, out of his way. He found little interest in other people's work. Not when his own kept showing more promise than he'd imagined.
He walked the server room, his steps not much louder than the humming fans. Every second of biometric data had been recorded. As far as Burton knew, no one had done anything like this. And if they had they probably weren't around any more.
The further the devices wound their way along the nerves and around the bones of the children, the more data it recorded. The more data the deep learning system acquired, the more efficient the devices became. There were limitless discoveries to be made here in the row after row of servers. More than a lifetime's worth, he thought.
After checking five servers at random, he left for the manufacturing area. Originally meant to take up a whole room, Burton had scaled it back.
Bots worked the machines, adding new spools of glistening nano filament into the printing tubes. Spider like arms clicked and clacked behind curved glass, weaving circuitry into material. Magnetorheological fluid span in centrifuges, being pumped like blood into the suits.
A large part of the rest of room held ranks of Assaultrons. Stood dormant after unpacking one and another. He'd networked half into the deep learning core, thick cables extending from their backs.
Burton crossed the hall to the opposite area. The sublevel had been designed to function independently. A failsafe should the more comfortable areas become uninhabitable. Inside had been converted to a live fire area. Configurable rooms, a target range and armoury.
He found Shaw, arbitrarily taking tools from the workbenches. "What are you doing?" Burton asked as Shaw took a screwdriver from one bench and a wrench from another.
"You never get full toolkits in the field." Shaw looked amused by his confusion. "Besides, gets them talking." Shaw knew how to form bonds in a way Burton didn't, he'd always admired that.
"I'm about done with my walkthrough." Burton had been down here long enough, but something caught his eye. Through the window in the next room stood the vr pods he'd modified. "I thought we were going to wait."
"I've been working on something." Shaw smiled at seeing Burton's surprise. "Look, I stand by what I said, that Anchorage sim cost more lives than it saved, but we need trained snipers." Shaw entered the other room and started booting up two of the chairs.
Burton never liked vr. Most of it was little more than a virtual peep show with the added risk of brain damage. He sat in the white chair and instantly thought of the barber shop opposite The Grand. Then he wondered how it looked now. Burton had gotten better at shutting out memories of the world above, but this caught him off guard.
Gentle heat began to build as the chair tilted back. The padding softened and Burton felt himself sink, reactive gel moulding around his limbs. The headrest whirred, extending arms that clamped to his temples. Finally covering his eyes with miniaturised screens.
Burton found himself walking on snow. He left footprints, it even crunched underfoot, but it didn't stick to his boots. He looked up, finding the sky a repeated pattern of stationary dark clouds. No moon, no stars.
"I stripped almost everything out to free up the processing power." Shaw walked ahead of him, a scoped rifle slung across his back. "It's not nearly cold enough." He stopped, taking in the tiny piece of the world he'd recreated. "Plus it doesn't stink of diesel and burning bodies." Burton stopped himself from asking, just not soon enough. "Like I said, it gets cold up here. Come on, it's not far."
A short walk brought them to a ridge overlooking a refinery. Smoke from the chimneys hung frozen in the air. Guards walked the gantries. Patrolled around the fence. Stood motionless at the gate.
Burton peered through the binoculars that hung around his neck. Shaw took them and handed him the rifle instead. "I thought I was the spotter." Burton felt uneasy, yet couldn't place why.
"Get down." Shaw sounded amused. Burton lay in the snow, still not feeling the cold. He looked through the scope, and saw the power of virtual sims.
In his crosshairs stood a Chinese soldier. Breath fogging in the cold air. A button missing from his grey overcoat. Whatever the sim lacked in scenery, it more than made up for with the people. Burton's unease grew with every preprogramed step the soldier took, and still he didn't know why.
"New target." Shaw sounded like he was ordering in a restaurant, almost bored. "West gantry, eight hundred meters."
"On target." Burton clicked the scope, taking aim at the pretend person. Desperate to keep the rising panic from his voice. He thought of the real, live defector he'd executed, and slept like a baby afterwards. Now he prepared to shoot pixels with other pixels, yet didn't know if he could pull the trigger. He still didn't know why.
"Windage, one quarter value. Send it." Shaw gave the command, Burton hesitated. "Burton," Still he couldn't shoot. "Take the shot." Shaw sounded almost amused. "Bur-" He fired. A stifled hiss dropped the soldier where he stood. Burton wondered what would happen if he vomited. "Tango down. New target."
After dispatching three more targets, Shaw clicked a few buttons on his pipboy and the soldiers were deleted.
"So what do you think?" Shaw asked as they trudged towards a blank and unconvincing horizon.
"Your coding's coming along nicely." Burton felt wretched, and worse, confused as to why. "I'd give you a job." He tried to deflect with a joke.
"Not easy, is it." Shaw had picked up on something. "Once I watched a target for two weeks straight. Watched him eat, sleep, shower. Watched him play with his kid, argue with his wife. Then the order came down and I shot him through the head as he sat down to dinner." Shaw had a hint of guilt in his voice.
"Fuck." Burton had struggled to play a game of what his friend had done for real.
"No hesitation Burton. You know what happens if the children hesitate, like you did?" Shaw's lesson made him understand the sick feeling in his stomach. This is what the children will have to do. Burton felt guilt and shame hit him like a gut punch. He didn't think he could feel worse, then Shaw repeated his question. "What happens Burton?"
"People die."
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