It was fully light when I arrived back at our quarters. McCloud and Jarvis were discussing tactics at the kitchen table. Joe and Rogers had gone to check that our aircraft had been refuelled and sort out the weapons to bring back. Joe poured me a coffee, and as I sat down, Sol walked in.
"Morning, Sol. Anything to report?" I asked him.
"Morning, David. All quiet, but early on, I did catch a glimpse of a couple of soldiers with night binoculars. No doubt, checking I was on duty. When I stood up, they vanished into the night, and I never saw them again. There is something not right about this airfield setup. I cannot give you any details, but the machines have a strong presence here."
"Your intuition is correct, Sol, and I can give you the detail you wanted. I do not want to repeat myself, so would you return to the aircraft and ask Joe and Rogers to return as soon as possible once they have finished their checks?"
"Will do," said Sol, who did an about-turn and disappeared through the door.
Jarvis, McCloud, and I discussed a possible defensive set-up for the quarters while we waited for the return of the other three.
An hour later, they returned, and I gave a full briefing concerning the events of this morning. Nobody was shocked, and most of us were glad that we had some definite data to go on.
"Do you think Roberto is an android?" Jarvis asked.
"Yes. I am almost certain. Nothing in his appearance, mannerisms, or speech suggests that he is non-human, but the machines have had a long time to perfect their models. I did think of trying to manipulate an 'accident', but it was too risky, and even if I cut him, there is no way of saying that he would not have produced simulated blood. No, if anything, it was his emotionless eyes that gave him away, but most of all, like Jock and Sol, I smelt a machine, not literally, but intuitively."
I threw the situation open to the group, and we talked for a while, everybody contributing. The consensus opinion was that we stayed on, pretending cooperation while secretly investigating. To that end, we should spread ourselves around the airfield, looking and listening, maybe trying to befriend some of the human operatives.
I told them that if you get a chance to get inside somewhere, take it, but have an excuse ready; we cannot afford to arouse any suspicion. We can start this afternoon, but keep it casual. Tell anybody who asks that we might be leaving tomorrow or the next day, and you are looking forward to getting back.
"Where to, exactly?" Asked Rogers.
"Good question. Say we have a base somewhere in the mountains, but deflect any questions as to its location. Say you are not allowed to discuss it for security reasons. Okay? See you all for dinner tonight. I will arrange for a rations delivery."
I took a walk myself to inspect the aircraft. Joe and Rogers had brought back a selection of weapons from the Skytrain, and they were hidden back at our quarters under the guard of Sol. There were the only two automatic pistols of the type that could be easily concealed under a jacket. Jarvis and I took them for ourselves.
Both aircraft were refuelled and ready to go. I wandered back to headquarters, but El Jeffe's office was empty and locked. I wondered where they both were. At the mess, an obliging cook said that he would plate up some hot meals and have them sent over. With nothing better to do for the moment, I went back to our temporary home.
"We have had a visitor," was Sol's opening remark, "a scared kid, who was forever looking over his shoulder. Thrust this envelope into my hand and took off."
I opened the envelope and took out the single sheet of paper inside. It was signed 'Manuel Godoy', 'El Jeffe' of the base, and it was written in English.
David—
I know you overheard us. I am not your enemy.
Meet me at the old hangar at 0200. Come alone.
Manuel Godoy.
This was a shock, but it made sense of something that had happened when I was covertly viewing the argument in El Jeffe's office. The commandant had raised his head, and for a split second, I had seen his face reflected in the glass of a painting hung on the wall to his right. At the time, I had drawn back, thinking that he may have glimpsed me in the reflection, but when he did not react, I assumed that he had not seen me. Evidently, he had, but what to make of the note, and could I trust him?
There was no answer to that, but I had to take my chances. When the others returned, I showed them the note, and they agreed that I should keep the appointment. The others would remain in the quarters, armed and ready to go. At the first sound of gunfire or disturbance at the hangar, they would attempt my rescue. If successful, we would go to our aircraft and take off. Jarvis would be in command of the rescue attempt, if it came to that, and if I were killed, make the escape as planned.
We all snatched a couple of hours' rest in the evening, and I left half an hour before the rendezvous time and watched the old hangar from a distance. Twenty minutes later, I saw a furtive-looking El Jeffe in dark civilian clothes enter the unlocked door of the hangar. I had checked out the interior the day before. Its roof was half collapsed, the walls streaked with soot and mould. Inside, it was dimly lit and filled with discarded engine parts, parts of broken aircraft, and rusted chassis – a virtual scrapyard.
I waited a further five minutes and went inside.
"David, thank you for coming," he said. "Have no worries, I am completely alone, and nobody knows I am here, but I can stay only a short time."
He wore no uniform—just a threadbare coat and boots that had seen decades of wear. His face looked older in the moonlight, the lines deeper, the eyes dim with fatigue.
"I read your note," I said. "I need the truth."
"El Jeffe nodded and gestured to a crate, and we sat opposite each other. I waited for him to speak.
"Roberto is not what he seems," El Jeffe began. "He's an android. An agent for the machines and an exact replica of the real Roberto, who is held in captivity with the other resistance officers, hidden in a sealed chamber under the base."
"You are all members of the resistance?" I asked.
"Yes. The part of the story Roberto told you about how the airfield was a training base for the resistance was true, at least it was up to a week ago, when the android Roberto arrived without warning, in the middle of the night, with a group of heavily armed soldiers. They took over the base without a shot being fired and rounded up the officers. I am afraid we had become complacent over the years, thinking we were immune to attack. But all the time the machines were watching and waiting."
"But they allowed you to train the human population into a military force," I said disbelievingly.
"The whole thing was stage-managed from beginning to end," said El Jeffe, bitterly. "There is no time for explanations now. I have only two minutes before I must leave."
"Then hurry," I said.
"They keep the real officers underground. In stasis. I've seen them. I want you to release them and allow us to take back the base.
"Why tell me now?"
"Because you're different. You came from outside. You have real weapons. Real aircraft. And because I saw your face when you heard him speak. You know what's coming."
I leaned forward. "Where are the officers located?"
"There's a sealed chamber beneath the old control tower. You'll need this." El Jeffe handed me a small device—a biometric key.
"It's coded to my DNA. It'll open the hatch."
I took it, weighing its significance.
"You'll need help," El Jeffe said. "But choose carefully. You have a traitor in your group."
I stood, pocketed the key, and nodded once.
"I'll do it, but I warn you. At the first sign of deception, I will have Sol eliminate you and anybody else who gets in our way."
El Jeffe smiled faintly, the first real emotion I had seen on his face.
"There is no deception, David. I hate the machines and all they stand for."
"Then we have something in common," I said. "If I succeed in releasing the officers and taking them to a safe place to recover, I will contact you. Make what preparation you can."
"I'll be waiting." Said El Jeffe.