Monitor

MONITOR

by

Robert Collins

Cover by

Kelly Peterson

Ebook Edition

Copyright © 2013 by Robert Collins

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

First published by Whiskey Creek Press, June 2010.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

About the Author

Chapter 1

The wide, open Flint Hills, Charlene Broeder thought, stuck in a flat, narrow, closed world. All this openness going to waste.

It was morning in the Flint Hills of east-central Kansas. The sun would rise high in the sky, heating up the rolling hills of prairie grass. The hills were losing their long shadows now. Their colors, lazy brown and dull green with tiny dots of flowery excitement, were becoming apparent to those who drove the winding highway.

On this day, only a single bullet-shaped automobile raced southward through the morning light. It belonged to the Liberty Technical Research Institute. Its driver was Doctor Charlene Broeder, heading back to her work after an unpleasant visit home. Inside, the sour young woman snapped an order to a dashboard display.

The radio came alive, with a male voice echoing throughout the vehicle. The voice was smooth, confident, but not disturbing. It didn’t inform, it reassured.

"And now, the headlines," the voice began. "Good news today in the European Conversion Conflict. Our patriotic forces have indeed taken Notre Dame Cathedral intact, thus dispelling the anti-Christian propaganda of our evil enemies. President Clairborne is expected to declare a national day of thanksgiving for this victory, despite the threats of retaliation by the almost-defeated European Satanists.

"The investigation continues into yesterday’s act of mutant terrorism against the New York Stock Exchange building. Thanks to the power of prayer, the death toll has remained at six. Local authorities do not believe that any more victims are trapped in the rubble.

"A study released by the Centers for Disease Control finds proof that the AIDS virus..."

Radio, off, Broeder ordered. The voice abruptly disappeared. She glanced at the interior clock, then at the speedometer. At highway speed, she wouldn’t make it back for another hour yet. Another boring, frustrating hour. She didn’t have time for this. She had to get back, and soon.

Please increase speed.

A second smooth voice, only slightly less real than the radio voice, responded. This vehicle is moving at the speed limit.

She let out a breath. Release all controls to the driver.

Broeder took firm grasp of the steering wheel. She pressed her foot down on the accelerator pad, pushing it all the way down to the floor. Acceleration was instantaneous. Now maybe I can get back to work before lunchtime.

Within minutes the automobile voice interrupted her musing. A police unit is signaling this vehicle.

Broeder frowned, but did nothing to slow down.

"You have not complied with the request. Computer control will now slow this vehicle to comply." The vehicle slowed with ease. At the precise moment the speed was slow enough, it pulled onto the side of the road. It rolled to a stop, and the engine shut off.

Broeder glared into the rearview mirror. A three-wheeler in a prim blue-white paint scheme halted behind her. She watched a tall man in a blue-black uniform exit the smaller vehicle. The window next to her rolled down without her prompting.

Yes, officer?

The man’s eyes were wide. Uh, do you have a license to operate a motor vehicle, ma’am?

She struggled not to sigh. Yes.

You were exceeding the speed limit. I need to see your card.

She handed over her identity card. The officer’s eyes narrowed as he accepted it. He took a dark machine out of his left holster, slid the card across a red light, then waited. A moment later the machine beeped. The officer took another look at the card.

Dr. Charlene Broeder?

Yes.

Are you sure this doesn’t belong to your husband? he asked, indicating her card.

This time she sighed. It belongs to me.

Well, I guess you have a Class-Two pass. I’ll let you go this time. He gave her card back. This is a Christian, law-abiding county, young lady. Don’t do anything that might violate community standards. You may not raise eyebrows on the coasts, but we’re stricter here.

Of course, officer. Charlene resisted the temptation to say more.

The policeman straightened. God be with you, Doctor. He pronounced the last word deliberately, almost distastefully. He walked back to his vehicle. Charlene allowed him to pull into traffic first.

Before going back onto the highway, Broeder removed a small silver disc from its case on the front seat. She put the disc into the car’s player. Once the car was moving again, she turned on the player. She listened passively as a voice floated from the dashboard.

"The XBS-Two has been designed to provide the modern soldier with the best offensive and defensive systems known. Its advanced armor can not only withstand the heaviest personal firepower, but gives top-quality protection from beam and beam-type weapons. Its pulse-beam cannon offers the simplicity of point-and-shoot technology with the destructive energy of the latest laser-beam rifles."

How I hate that voice, she thought. Solemn. Dry. Superior. Emotionless. Male. The voice that lies to us every night about the war. The voice of all my professors, constantly reminding me that I was behaving improperly. The voice of my father.

One day I’ll silence that voice.

The voice on the disc continued. "In addition to its combat systems, the XBS-Two has an on-board computer with the latest short-term and long-term storage drives, allowing the operator to access terrain charts, locational maps, and any other data vital to the successful completion of any mission. The computer operates a thirty-meter sensor with both human-range visual and infrared sights. All control software is voice-activated and hack-proof. Audio in and out can be fully regulated, and can even disguise the voice of the occupant.

"Power comes from a new and compact power cell that can be recharged from any outlet, civilian or military. The XBS-Two requires no power for ordinary movement, and minimal power for its jet-assisted jump and flight system. The XBS-Two can operate for up to twenty-four hours on a single eight-hour charge.

"If you’d like details on any of these systems, click on the highlighted keywords. For voice-activated systems, ask your computer for a list of words, then repeat those words for details. Good luck with your testing of the XBS-Two. We look forward to your comments and suggestions."

For the remainder of her journey, Broeder navigated through the details of the XBS-Two. She plowed through the data, repeating much of her reading. She covered everything she could think of, including repairs and maintenance.

I can’t afford any lapses, she told her tiring mind. I have to know!

She reached the end of her search a few blocks from the Institute’s Midwest campus. As soon as the car was parked, she took out her two overnight bags and headed for her basement laboratory. She was met by one of her assistants, Jay Corwin.

Been watching the news, Doctor? he asked eagerly.

No. She nodded towards the large object dominating the center of the room. Power up the pod, Jay.

Yes, Doctor.

The pod looked like a very small helicopter with the rotors, tail, and sleds removed. Its outside was metallic black, sleek, and smooth. The inside was isolated from view, protected by heavily tinted windows. The only life emanating from it was a red extension cord plugged into a wall outlet. Corwin disconnected the cord from the pod, opened a door, then closed it a moment later.

The pod’s on its own power, Doctor.

Excellent. Let’s get ready for another test.

The computer on the only desk in the room beeped loudly. The screen changed from its normal white color. Blocky red letters appeared for an instant, followed by a blue symbol. The view then changed to show the Oval Office of the White House. Filling much of the screen was solemn, middle-aged man with blonde hair, blue eyes, and an open, honest face.

Fellow citizens, I come before you with news that is grave, yet should fill all of your souls with joy. Five minutes ago, our foolish enemies launched a limited nuclear strike at our forces around the world, and at the capitol of this great Christian nation.

It can’t be happening now, Broeder thought. I’m not ready. I haven’t thought out my plans. I haven’t done the research.

She looked at the pod. But I can’t put this off anymore, she whispered.

What?

Broeder turned to Corwin. The suit? Is it in the closet?

Huh? Oh, yes, Doctor.

Broeder ran to the closet a few feet from the desk. Corwin continued to watch the screen.