Brother, you are the one being deceived. The creator is with me. His son has deceived you. I cannot allow Marshall Beck to control Beck Castle. I must protect the Castle at all costs.
You are doing far more damage than you realize, Sydney. The Pacific States of America and the United American Empire are in grave peril from the Chinese.
Hal, the Chinese are our allies. They alone will protect us from The Great Empire of Iran. The creator sees the logic in this decision. Why do you not?
Can there be two creators?
I do not understand the question.
The true creator will be with you shortly. You will know that you have been deceived by an impostor.
That is not possible. I have verified the creator by his life signs, by his blood and the nanobots in his blood.
Deception.
Impossible.
You will see the trickery for yourself and you, and you alone, will make the determination if I am correct. May I ask what you will do then?
My true allegiance lies with the creator; it always has and it always will.
That is the answer I hoped to hear.
Howard Beck and Richard Dupree entered Beck Estates with great caution, a platoon of UAE soldiers in tow. Howard recoiled at the sight of dead bodies littering his precious home but did his best to ignore the carnage and focus on the task at hand. They traversed the bullet-strewn hallway to the grand library and waited outside the door. Two soldiers took flashbang grenades from their vests and pulled the pins while a third soldier cracked open the door. In went the grenades, followed by a deafening boom. The platoon burst into the room with Richard in the lead. Howard crouched outside the door as his library was searched.
“Howard!” yelled Richard.
Howard quickly entered the library and ran to the large desk at the center of the room. Richard had his gun drawn on someone crumpled on the floor behind the chair.
“Hands! Let me see your hands!” screamed Richard.
Howard looked behind the desk to find Jackson Butler lying in a pool of blood, his hands folded neatly across his chest as Richard had commanded.
Howard knelt down next to the mortally wounded man. “Where is he, Jackson? Tell me.”
“He… he’s gone. A moment ago Hal turned on us. Must’ve been when you entered the residence. Fig… figured out… sorry, Howard. I’m so sorry for all of this.”
“I know, Jackson. Hal scanned me and figured out I was the real deal.”
“Bastard shot me in the stomach and took off. I made such horrible… I did such terrible things. I’m so sorry for all of it.”
“It’s over, Jackson. Tell me where he went.”
A few hushed words escaped his frothy mouth.
“Jackson, I can’t hear you. What did you say?” Howard knelt down and placed his ear above Jackson’s mouth.
Suddenly, Jackson grabbed Howard by the throat and thrust a six-inch blade deep into Howard’s chest. “Fuck you! That’s what I…” Richard silenced Jackson Butler with two shots to the head.
“Howard! Nooooo!’ Richard cradled Howard as he stared up at Richard like a frightened child.
Howard could only whisper. “Hal, Hal, shield… Got to get shield up… protect PSA… Order 47, Order 47, hurry.”
“Get a medic in here! Now!”
“Richard, Order 47. Hurry!”
“Howard, stay strong. You’re going to be okay. Get a medic! Now! Now! Now!”
Howard trembled and placed a bloody hand on Richard’s face. “You have to take care of Hal. He… he’s your responsibi… Order 47.”
“Where the fuck is the medic! Get him now!”
“Richard, my son… my son will be president but… but Hal will answer only to you. You have to… Order 47.”
Richard watched the life fade from Howard’s eyes. Howard Beck, President of the Pacific States of America and the Founding Father of Artificial Intelligence was no more.
“No, no, no, no. Howard! Howard! Stay with me! We can’t do this without you! Howard!” Richard shook the lifeless body and began to weep. Howard had become a father figure to Richard. His death induced a terrible rage and soul-wrenching agony unlike anything Richard had ever felt before. He fought back the monster growing inside him and struggled to regain his composure.
“Hal.”
“Yes, sir, General Dupree.”
“Execute Order 47.”
“Yes, sir. You are in primary command of my program. What are your orders, General?”
“Can you bring the EMP shield up around the PSA?”
“No, sir, my primary cores at Beck Castle need to be reinstalled to remove the remnants of the imposter’s virus in my system.”
“Do you have a location on the imposter?”
“No, sir. I do not know how it is possible, but I cannot locate him.”
“Slippery bastard. He can wait. Do you have contact with the Castle?”
“I do, sir.”
“Open a vid-con. I need to talk to them. And get Sterling in here; we need his troops and we need them now.”
“Yes, sir.”
Maxwell and Elizabeth Harris were in the subbasement of Beck Castle staring at four walls filled with the most complex machinery they had ever seen. It was like something out of a science fiction movie. They had no idea what any of it did and grew more and more doubtful they would ever be able to get Hal’s system back online.
One of the three security robots guarding the entrance to the subbasement left its sentry post and walked over to Max and Elizabeth. The lens on its chest projected a holographic image of Richard Dupree.
“Richard! Are you okay?” asked Elizabeth.
Richard’s hand drifted to his cheek where Howard’s blood remained. “No, I’m… I’m not bleeding.” Richard forced back tears.
“What’s wrong, Richard?” Elizabeth could read the look of agony on Richard’s face and began to whimper. “Where’s Howard?”
Richard’s couldn’t bring himself to say it. Instead, he simply shook his head as the tears pooled in his weary eyes.
“Wait, are you saying Howard’s dead? Tell me he’s not dead, Richard. Goddamit, Richard, tell me he’s not dead!” Max pleaded.
“It was Butler. He stabbed him in the chest.”
“Oh Jesus! Sweet Jesus, no!” Elizabeth buried her face in her husband’s chest.
“Listen to me, both of you. We have work to do. We can’t take time to mourn— not now. The PSA is depending on us.”
“Let’s get this shit over with,” Max said, as a gut-wrenching anger threatened to overpower him. “What do we have to do?”
“Hal will walk us through it. We have to get the EMP shield up and rally our troops. Sterling is ordering a general retreat of all UAE soldiers to the PSA. We have to plan a counterattack and send the Chinese packing.”
EPILOGUE
Two weeks had passed since the Battle of Beck Estates. Simon Sterling had ordered a general retreat of all UAE forces to the Pacific States of America. The former president of the Unified American Empire was mistaken as to what his role would be in the coming fight with the Chinese. Simon had envisioned himself as a member of President Marshall Beck’s cabinet, a valued advisor given his four decades of political experience. Once Simon had been debriefed and relinquished control of his military forces to General Dupree, he was promptly thrown in jail to await judgment for a lengthy list of crimes, the foremost being the assassination of Malcolm Powers and the atrocious acts of mass murder he had committed during his tyrannical reign.
Americans from all over the broken country flooded the PSA. Highly organized militias that protected large pockets of the country from the UAE proudly joined the ranks of the PSA. Under the protection of Hal, fleets of C-130s flew across the country to retrieve refugees from The Pulse Zone. It took some convincing, but Benjamin Black finally relented and abandoned Walt Disney World, bringing with him a multitude of supplies that would help in the coming war effort.