Death Minus Zero. Don Pendleton
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himself facing Doug Buchanan.
“Colonel,” Buchanan said.
The image was a head-to-waist shot of the major. He had his biocouch in a sitting position. Behind him Phoenix Force could see the circular layout of the Zero operations facility: scan monitors and control consoles and an occasional flashing panel. The overall impression was of controlled efficiency.
“Any further intel?” Corrigan said.
Buchanan’s head moved in a negative response. “Nothing, sir. We’ve had probes working since the initial report. We can’t find anything.”
We.
Not I.
Not me.
We.
The collective term for the partnership between man and machine.
From the day Zero had come online and Buchanan had made his first report from the platform, he had used the epithet “we” when referring to Zero. His assimilation into the system through the bioimplants keeping him alive had worked with far greater success than anyone, Saul Kaplan included, had expected. Doug Buchanan’s melding with the implants designed to keep his cancer at bay and offer the major a chance to continue as a viable Air Force member had proved out. With Zero online, the orbiting platform had become a vital part of America’s defense system, and Kaplan’s cherished dream had become a reality.
“Our scans will continue.”
The voice coming through the speakers was Zero’s. The modulated tones, with a slight mechanical edge, emanated from the platform’s integrated synthesizer system.
Saul Kaplan had developed and installed the system just under six months ago. It was one way to get a manual response from Zero when there was a need for communication and also served as a direct link for Buchanan, enabling him to have verbal interaction with Zero’s responses. There had been another, less obvious reason for the interaction—being able to converse with Zero gave Buchanan a companionto talk to. Kaplan had seen that as an important function for Buchanan’s solitary existence. He had programmed Zero with a wide range of interactive knowledge that included a number of languages and as much encyclopedic data he could put in. The process was ongoing, allowing Zero to self-improve and to develop a coherent personality. It made for interesting social intercourse for Buchanan and the Zero team.
Kaplan had seen this interaction as a necessary advance on the Zero program. It had needed to happen if the platform was to extend its existence beyond the present. Kaplan was looking to the future. Science did not stand still. It would stagnate if it did, and Saul Kaplan refused to allow that to occur.
“Major, we have visitors with us,” Corrigan said. “The team assisting in the investigation.”
A second plasma screen showed Phoenix Force and Claire Valens.
“These people are from the same group Cooper is with,” Valens said.
“Cooper pulled me out of a hole way back. Hell of a guy.”
“You said it,” McCarter agreed.
Buchanan said, “I hope you’re having more luck than we are at the moment.”
“Information is still skinny on the ground,” McCarter told him. “We know Kaplan is missing. We have a feeling the Chinese are involved...but that’s about all, Major Buchanan.”
“It’s Doug. Let’s drop the rank, huh? Colonel, no offence, sir.”
Corrigan managed a faint grimace that might have been labeled a smile.
“My fancy bag of tricks isn’t working its magic today,” Buchanan said. “I had Saul on track from the time he left home, but his signal cut out at around the time he was snatched.”
“You think the kidnappers knew about his implant?” Encizo asked. “Disabled it?”
“A possibility,” Buchanan allowed. “It was our main chance to keep him online. Of course there might have been a malfunction. I’m still trying to reengage his signal.”
“The implant may come online again,” Zero said. “Unless it has been removed and destroyed.”
“Always looks on the bright side. We’re initiating a wider scan,” Buchanan said. “Using all our surveillance.”
He tapped keys and his biocouch began to traverse the interior on the monorail that circled the equipment banks. An alternate-view screen showed his progression around the facility. View ports set around the platform allowed him to see the exterior behind the curved instrument consoles. Buchanan could make a complete three-sixty run around the cupola, allowing freedom of access to each and every function. There were duplicate control panels around the circular access, so he was never far from a control point. The same applied to the plasma screens he used for communication and exterior viewing. The whole of Zero’s working area had been designed by Kaplan to cater to someone who was restricted to the biocouch.
Buchanan never felt restricted. He had come to accept the couch as part of himself now. He was dependent on the couch to keep his bodily function controlled and fed through the implant system, and early, but brief, concerns had been wiped away when Buchanan realized his body was responding to the medical stimulants and banishing the pain and discomfort he had been plagued with as his cancer grew. It could have been said Buchanan’s life had been encapsulated within Zero to the degree he was severely denied any kind of normal life. Buchanan saw it from his personal view—Kaplan’s creation had freed him from the debilitating illness and had gifted him something newer. Better. A unique perspective on life and a chance to be of service to the Air Force and humanity, which meant a great deal to Doug Buchanan.
“We have a good view from here,” Buchanan said. He paused the biocouch and pointed to the image beyond the port. It was a full view of Earth, the blues and greens evident; continents could be clearly distinguished. It was an impressive display. Buchanan held the image for a while. His face on the monitor showed the expression in his eyes: a recall of what life had been when he had stood on his own two legs and had been able to walk the real world.
“Doug, listen to me,” Valens said, breaking the moment. She could understand his reluctance to move on. Doug Buchanan could view the scene from his lofty perch, but he would never be able to set foot on home ground ever again. “We won’t give up on Saul. My word.”
“I know,” Buchanan said. His gaze remained on the earthly vista and Valens picked up on his mood. “We’ll talk again later,” he said quietly, tapping his console and closing the connection.
“He sometimes has a melancholy fallback,” Corrigan said. “When he does, we’ve found it best to let him phase it out. Have to say I can’t blame him under the circumstances.”
“Must be difficult for him to see a view like that,” Manning said.
It was obvious to Valens the man had also seen the look on Buchanan’s face. “I know how I’d feel,” she said.
“Man, I don’t know if I could take it,” James admitted. “That’s one brave guy.”
“Major Buchanan is an exceptional officer,” Corrigan said.
“He’s more than that,” Hawkins said. “Talk about above and beyond...”
Manning asked, “He ever get relieved? I know he can’t get up and walk away but...”
“There’s a time when he needs treatment through his biocouch,” Corrigan said. “We have a link where someone here in Zero Command can assume remote control for the time he needs to stand down. Not the same, because we don’t have the integration Buchanan has with Zero. Since Doug was assimilated he’s developed an affinity with the platform. With Zero. That’s something that can’t be manufactured. No one standing in down here can match how he operates.”
“What about a second string?” McCarter queried. “Someone else who could be based on Zero...if