“Just around the next bend will be Portland,” said Wright to those around him. “It’s pretty early, so there shouldn’t be many out to see us.”

  “Anyone know how Portland is doing?” said Alexis. It was a sincere question which caught some of the soldiers off guard.

  “Same as the other cities,” continued Wright, his tone flat and final.

  Forested islands, some they passed within a few minutes, others longer slid by on both sides and the sun was now providing some warmth against the dawn chill which hung in the air along with mist. The idyllic scene was at odds with which plagued the minds of those on the boat.

  They passed under a bridge. The absence of vehicles crossing it, obvious to everyone. Houses were now frequent on the banks and further back on the low hills. Large multi-storey residences, with arched roofs and colonial-revival styling. Some had jetties, but no boats were tied to them which made Mike wonder, had their owners used them to escape further north or east?

  They swept past an airport, with only a few single prop airplanes sitting on runways. The control tower stood proud but useless, then they approached another bridge. This one was older than the first, with a series of green spans across its width and two towers towards the center.

  “Looks like someones out to view the river,” said one of the soldiers.

  Cody looked through a small pair of binoculars. “Just an old guy walking a dog.”

  Alexis’s head twitched, but only Mike noticed. She was mumbling under her breath, then flicked her eyes to him. She then shook her head more violently. This time one of the soldiers noticed. Mike went to ask her what was wrong, but never got the chance.

  “No!” she screamed and six rifle barrels instantly raised in her direction. Mike went to spring forward to act as a shield, but she threw her hand out, warning him to stay back.

  “What the fuck is your malfunction?” shouted Cody his own weapon wavering in her direction, but she ignored his question seemingly locked in an internal conversation.

  “I won’t do it! I can’t! I—” The next few seconds happened in slow motion to Mike, but he was still powerless to stop her actions. With the grace of a ballerina and speed of an insect, she surged forward, pushed and grabbed the closest soldier’s assault rifle from him, stood, aimed at the gray haired individual wandering across the bridge who had been standing and watching the waters below, and fired. He fell to the ground at the same time that she dropped the stolen weapon. The soldier she had taken it from quickly bent over and grabbed it back.

  As the echo of the shot echoed around the underside of the concrete columns and road they were now passing under, shock had frozen everyone, but Alexis hung her head, sobbing wafting through the mop of hair which covered her face. “I told you I can’t do it! Why did you make me do it…” Her words were full of pain and anguish, so much so that the rifles and guns aimed at her lowered.

  “What just happened?” asked Cody to Mike. Without waiting for an answer he looked at the other soldiers. “Keep an eye on her!” He then raised his binoculars back to his face and looked behind them, at the bridge now moving away. He shook his head. “Agh, I can’t see what happened to the old man.”

  “He’s dead capt,” said one of the soldiers.

  “Dropped like a stone,” said another.

  “I…” Mike tried to find a suitable explanation for what had just happened, but couldn’t find any, instead he crept forward and tried to place an arm around Alexis, but she waved him away.

  “Don’t touch me,” she said, her head still lowered. “He said the man was a spy… he… just could tell…”

  “Man this is trippy,” said Wright.

  Cody angrily looked back at the woman whose knees were pulled in to her chest, her arms wrapped around them. “And what if it had been a kid? You would have just killed them?”

  She looked up at him, her eyes bloodshot. “I don’t know…”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  A low din became apparent as soon as Brad stepped into the passageway that led to the mess hall. The closer he got the more the sound became a cacophony of voices. Not jovial, but understated, respectful of what had happened over the past few weeks and fearful for what lay ahead. His stomach rumbled but he hesitated filling it with something, only for it to emptied out a few hours later. He had glanced outside only once and regretted doing so due to the chaotic surging waves and the angle of the ship to the horizon.

  He stepped over the lip of the door and quickly scanned a large room full of people eating and some chatting. The walls were lined with framed photos of ships and people in uniform with an impressive number of motifs across their chest. Some of the photos were tilted, but he couldn’t tell if they were wrongly mounted or if it was the deck that was slanted.

  “You getting in line?” said a seaman with an empty plastic tray in his hand.

  “Nah, I’m good thanks.” He looked around the myriad of uniforms, picking out the civilians and two in particular he wanted to talk to. The imagery in Kevin’s sketch had taken hold in his mind and had refused to let go, despite his attempt to sleep in the rack he had been given. He needed answers. Kevin had previously provided sketches which appeared to have been cognizant of future events, and if this sketch was anywhere near true, then he needed to know. His and everyone else's life could depend on it. He weaved his way through the tables, and crouched near the end of one where Constance and Kevin were sitting due to there not being any free space on the benches.

  “Hello Brad Reynolds,” said Constance. She took another bite from the fruit pie in her bowl. Kevin was busy sketching. Brad tried to get a better look but the young man reacted by moving the sketch further away.

  “Hey, how you holding up?” said Brad. “This rocking is making me feel a bit sick.”

  “I’m fine thank you,” said Constance.

  “That’s good. And Kevin?”

  “He’s good too, but I think some of the others are a little ill.”

  Brad pulled the sketch with red and black lines from his jacket and held it towards her, but before he could speak Kevin’s eyes grew large and he started screaming. Whatever conversation was being held within the steel lined walls instantly came to a halt and everyone looked at the young man who was flailing his arms around him.

  Ignoring the commotion beside her she looked at Brad. “Where did you get that?” she shouted, then tried to grab it from him, but he held onto it.

  “He dropped it! What is it? Did he see this happening?”

  Kevin continued his wailing.

  “Hey bud! Give the kid his picture back!” said one of the seaman.

  “Stay out of this,” said Brad glancing at the well built individual. He looked back at Constance. “Ask him what it means?”

  Constance continued to tug on the paper that was beginning to tear. “You can’t have it, give it to me!”

  He let go and she immediately handed it to Kevin who like the sun emerging from behind storm clouds, instantly stopped the racket he was making and smiled, then buried the sketch in his pocket, before continuing with his current rendering. The nearby sailer frowned at Brad then turned back to his meal, as did the others.

  Brad leaned in closer to Constance, who gave him a despairing look, leaning back slightly. “Why did he draw that? Can you ask him? It’s really important.”

  She let out a breath in frustration, then turned to the opposite side and whispered into Kevin’s ear. The young man paused as if in thought, then shook his head. She continued and he nodded. Finally she looked at Brad who had been trying to read the young man’s body language. “He says you shouldn’t have seen it.”

  “That’s it? Why did he draw it though?”

  She took another bite from her pie. “Sometimes he draws things from bad dreams. He does not know why he sees them, but it makes him feel better if he makes them real on paper. He did not lose that sketch, he threw it away. He throws them all away.”

  “There have been others?” said Brad mildly shocked at what could have been lost.

  “Yes. But as I just said. They are not for anyone other than him to see.”

  A spot opened up opposite the two young people and Brad grabbed it then leaned forward with both elbows on the table. He needed more. “Ask him if this is what he thinks will happen. Is this why he was scared to get on this ship?”

  Constance looked at Brad directly. “It’s just a bad dream picture Brad Reynolds. Why do you think differently?”

  “But he drew the image of what the AI was building in the desert. Even though he had not seen it in real life, right?”

  “That was because the bad machine man had that in his brain when he was in our minds. We saw what was there… that’s all it was…”

  Brad sat back frustrated and slightly shook his head. He was sure there was more to Kevin’s drawing. But this line of questioning wasn’t getting him anywhere. He looked at what the young man was drawing. A silver structure of spikes and spires, gleaming beams and angular shapes that made it look like a castle from an alien world. He nodded towards it. “What’s that?”

  Constance went back to her desert. “I do not know. He draws that one a lot.”

  “He’s drawn it more than once?”

  “Yes, many times.”

  “Was that also in the bad machine man’s head?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  *****

  Alexis sat with her hands bound with cord. Mike had protested but she didn’t so he stopped. He wanted to reach out and comfort the woman sitting opposite him, but each time he tried she’d rejected his advances, and they didn’t exactly have privacy for him to plead his case with her. Travis had to have controlled her, there was no way she could have made that shot. The special forces next to him couldn’t have made that shot. His son made the women he loved a murderer. The second time an AI had done that.

  He clenched his fist in frustration, then reached to a pocket which didn’t exist in his jacket. Alcohol wouldn’t help he knew that, but if there had been a bottle on the boat with them, he would have fought to drink from it.

  Their small boat had weaved past islands full of trees and rocks and not much else, until the river started to widen. Another bridge, this one much larger and spanning a greater distance came into view. Beyond, just visible in the haze was a huge ship. Blue gray and proud, birthed at one of a series of docks. A warship of some kind. “Is that our destination?” he said.

  “Yup,” said Wright.

  “When we get aboard,” said Alexis to the sergeant. “You will pass on what I told you? Please, you have to warn them.” Her tone was one of desperation but there was no answer, just the constant chugging of the boat’s engine.

  Mike took in and let out a deep breath. He needed to be off this small floating prison and find out what Travis had been saying to her. His son had no right to treat her like a machine to be operated, despite the consequences if she chose not to do as he wanted.

  “Send the signal,” said Wright to a soldier perched on the front of the boat where a large floodlight was located. The man pushed a switch on the side of it, then opened and closed the shutter in front of the large lens.

  Wright’s radio came to life with a male voice. “To the vessel approaching from the east, this is USS Towning. Do you have a call sign? Over.”

  Wright responded correctly and they passed under the huge bridge, its columns looming overhead and moved alongside a green weed covered concrete wall, where a rusting ladder waited.

  Alexis’s hands were set free, but at least three of the soldiers had their rifles pointed at her, not that Mike thought it would help them if Travis took control of her again.

  As she climbed the sound of boots came from above, and then heads with tightly strapped helmets and more rifles appeared. Mike wanted to go next, but he was pushed back and the soldiers quickly ascended. Finally it was just him and Cody.

  “Now you,” said the captain.

  “It’s not her doing the things she’s doing, you know that right?” said Mike.

  “Now you…” said Cody, this time gesturing with the end of his rifle.

  Mike sighed and climbed, his joints reminding him of the awkward position he had been seated in for hours. As his eyes moved above the top of the wall, he was surprised to see such an amount of movement on the docks of the small town. Military trucks were dropping off soldiers, and crates and other heavier machinery were being loaded into the side of the hull. But he wasn’t interested in any of that, he quickly located Alexis being led away at gunpoint and ran forward, but only got a few steps towards her when one of the soldiers behind her, turned and raised his rifle directly at Mike’s head.

  “Get back!” said the soldier.

  He raised his hands. “I need to talk to her!”

  “Get the fuck back, or I’ll shoot!”

  Mike watched as Alexis was taken up a gangway and then disappeared from view. Cody walked past him and Mike followed, but at the bottom of the walkway the captain continued up the metal planks, and a guard stood in Mike’s way. Mike looked at the soldier shocked. “I’m with them. I’m with the captain! Cody, tell him I’m with…”

  The captain stepped off the top step and onto the boat without turning around.

  “Cody!” shouted Mike. Then looked desperately at the guard in front of him. “This is a mistake. I’m with the soldiers that came from Norad. I know Cary…” He searched for Cary’s surname. “The airforce general!”

  The guard stood stony faced and silent.

  Mike went to push past, but was swiftly rebuffed, so he tried again, this time after a swift push he ended up on the cold concrete ground. He looked around for recognizable faces, anyone to help him get onboard, to get to Alexis. But there were none. He stood and shouted again, but his voice was lost to the sound of heavy machinery loading supplies and the constant drone of truck engines, stopping then driving off.

  Then he spotted his opportunity. A shipping container was about to be loaded. It had just been lowered to the dock by a crane and a soldier had left a door in the side of it open to chat to another. Mike walked slow at first so not to gain attention, then broke into a jog, then run. He had no idea what lay inside the dark interior of the room sized metal box, but he ran towards the entrance with hope until the soldier turned around.

  “Hey, stop!”

  Mike’s legs propelled him forward even though he knew it was pointless. He had to get inside. Had to go with her on the ship. She couldn’t be alone. He heard the click of a gun being cocked and slowed then stopped, the open door just inches from him. As he turned around, defeated, the soldier placed a heavy hand on his shoulder and pulled him away to the other he had just been chatting to.

  “Get this one out of here.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Alexis sat with her knees against her chest on the bed in a small room. She had only ever seen a brig in films of old ships, with wooden beams, iron bars and low ceilings. The space she occupied was more like a storage closet, with a single toilet and basin, a single light and bed.

  “Why won’t you talk to me!” shouted Travis a few feet from her head. He had been shouting, pacing around the confined space, although sometimes his image protruded further than the walls, making him seem even more ghost-like, and generally acting like a spoiled teen for an hour, but it felt like longer.

  Finally she gave in. “You know why. You made me kill a—”

  Travis threw his arms up in the air. “He wasn’t a man! Or human! He was an AI drone! If I hadn’t made you do what you did, the AI would be sending machines after this ship and not the other right now! We would be dead! Do you get that?” He spun away from her in frustration. “This was so much easier with Elias.”

  “Yeah that turned out really good for him.”

  Travis turned back with solemn anger on his face. “I didn’t want that to happen to him. I gave him a choice—”

  “Oh, so you do, do that then?” For the first time Alexis looked at the digital apparition. “When it suits you, you allow us humans to make a choice for ourselves?”

  Travis frowned, his anger dissipating then sat on the end of the bed. “What would you have rather me done? Let that AI spy tell the AI what he had seen?”

  She paused before answering. “I don’t know.”

  Travis looked at her with empathy and equal concern. “You have to convince the others on this ship that USS Saxton is in grave danger.”

  “I tried. You know I tried. They don’t believe me. And even if they did, they said they couldn’t communicate with the other ship.” A small spark of hope appeared in her eyes. “Can’t you do it? Can’t you take control of this ship’s systems and get a mess—”

  Travis was shaking his head. “If I do that the AI will know where we are.”

  Alexis looked down. “At least they wouldn’t be attacked…”

  Silence came to the small room then Travis sighed. Alexis could tell there was something he was not telling her. “What?” she said.

  “My father is not onboard.”

  “What?” she screamed. “How… why is he not on the ship?”

  “They need you, not him. He was left be—”

  She stood and walked straight through him and proceeded to slam on the door.

  “You’re wasting your time. We have been at sea for twenty minutes… and they’re not turning back.”

  Her fist came to a halt on the cold metal, then she rested her head on it. “I need him… I can’t do this alone.”