The guardian program, p.1
The Guardian Program, page 1
THE GUARDIAN PROGRAM
Book One of The Terre Hoffman Chronicles
Second Edition
Copyright © 2020, 2021 by Herman Steuernagel
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
All international rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means whether digital or printed without permission in writing from the copyright owner.
ISBN: 978-199050500-0-3 (paperback)
ISBN: 978-17771777-9-9 (ebook)
Cover by MiblArt
Edited by Novel Approach Manuscript Services
https://www.hermansteuernagel.com
CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Epilogue
Can I Ask a Favor?
Artificial Insurgence - Chapter One
Artificial Insurgence - Chapter Two
Artificial Insurgence - Chapter Three
Afterword
Acknowledgments
Andersen Air Force Base, Guam
May 2052
* * *
“Not again!”
Alarms blared across Andersen Air Force Base, rousing Terre Hoffman from his bed. “We’ve got to get these proximity alarms fixed,” he grumbled. “I’m sick of being woken up in the middle of the night!”
As he had been every night for the past two weeks.
“You’re sick of it?” His wife, Cara, rolled over, pulling a pillow over her head as he turned on the light.
Terre scrambled for his clothes across the now illuminated bedroom, digging through the pile of laundry he had collected together for the current day’s wash.
“I thought that was why they brought that kid in?” Cara continued. “What’s his name?”
“Kristopher, bae. And yes, that’s why he’s here. Supposedly.” Terre pulled a white t-shirt over his head before stepping into and pulling up his pair of designer slacks. Despite being required to dress professionally at the office, he’d ditch the tie and suit jacket for today. He could already feel the sweat on his back from the heat of the day. He looked at his watch again to make sure.
Only 3 a.m. and it was already a hundred degrees; he wasn’t sure if the heat or the humidity bothered him more. Luckily, Terre spent most of his day in an air-conditioned technology center.
“Do you have to go in? Can’t he take care of it?” Cara rolled over again, shielding her eyes against the light of the lamp. She grabbed the bedsheet and wrapped it around her body, as if cocooning herself against the glare. The white of the blanket contrasted with the dark brown skin of her back as she sat up, facing away from him.
Cara was right: Kristopher probably could take care of the situation, but there was no point in Terre staying home. He might as well be doing something if he was awake anyway. Besides, his boss required him to go in, even if it was only to monitor K’s progress.
Terre grabbed a white button-down shirt from the wardrobe, pulled his arms through its sleeves, and fumbled with the buttons. His hands trembled as adrenaline raced through him. How many times had the same alarm jolted him from his sleep? He wouldn’t get used to the way it clawed at his nerves.
“K’s just a contractor, Cara. I’m the Senior IT Specialist. I’ve got to be there.” He threw his hands in the air when she looked unconvinced. “I’m the babysitter.”
He took his role as supervisor seriously, and he wasn’t used to being completely useless in a situation. If he had been able to figure out how to stop the damn things to begin with, the kid would never have been brought in.
After the alarms had gone off for the third night in a row, his boss had decided it was time to call in outside help. There was little room for error when you’re in charge of the network for a military base. Terre was lucky he still had a job, so he did his best not to feel emasculated by the call. And besides, although the kid wrote the software, they still didn’t have an answer as to what was behind the activations, a whole two weeks after Kristopher had shown up.
“Kristopher wrote the stupid proximity detector program, and even he hasn’t been able to figure it out.”
“Why is he here, then? Can’t you take care of it?” Cara sighed as she pulled the sheet off of her and grabbed a light blue t-shirt from her nightstand. She stood and pulled the shirt on over her naked torso. She was Terre’s biggest fan, but she didn’t understand the first thing about how these proximity detectors worked. Though, he wished he had a better understanding himself.
Terre had transferred to Guam two years earlier, hoping to provide his new family with the luxury of island life for a few years. Living on a military base took some getting used to, but it sure was hard to beat the island weather. Surf and sand were worth the sacrifices they had made to be here, but Terre knew those consolations wouldn’t last forever. He hadn’t planned to be away from the mainland indefinitely. Their daughter Sarah had grown up without knowing her extended family, and both he and Cara had been on edge lately. It was all adding up to a situation he no longer wanted to be in.
A smile overcame his lips as he watched Cara finish getting dressed enough to see him to the door. She insisted on seeing him out each time he left for work, even during late-night calls. She never wanted to miss saying goodbye, just in case the worst happened. Some saw it as a paranoid way of looking at life, but Terre didn’t see it that way. He and Cara appreciated the simple things and never wanted to take them for granted.
After four years, it still hadn’t grown old.
“It’s not like I haven’t tried,” he replied. “But thanks for believing in me. K wrote the program. We’ll discover the bug ten times faster with his help. Without him, I’m just shooting in the dark.”
“He doesn’t seem to be doing much better.”
“It’s not always easy to pinpoint a bug. It could be a problem with the program or with the signals. Hell, it could be a dirty sensor for all we know. There are a lot of diagnostics to run, and unless the army wants the alarm running nonstop until we find it, it’s going to take time.”
At this point, if the fault was nothing more than a dirty sensor, Terre would be tempted to hand in his resignation. But as was often the case, it was usually something simple that was easy to overlook. Terre tried to convince himself they were close to solving the issue, but over the last couple of days, Kristopher—or ‘K,’ as Terre liked to call him—had been hitting dead end after dead end. Terre couldn’t see an issue with the system, and neither could K. It was all a little unsettling.
How many US Defense bases depended on these alarms for an early warning of an attack? K didn’t even seem to know a specific number, and neither specialist was given any definite answers when they asked, but the number was potentially high. More was riding on the two of them than Terre wanted to know. Once they’d patched this bug, they’d push the fix to the other bases. If it was a malfunctioning sensor, he’d hang his head and submit their test results up the chain of command.
For whatever reason, the problem had first manifested itself on his base, under his watch. K couldn't access the code remotely because of its classified nature, so the military had flown him in. The contractor had needed complete access to ground zero.
“I know. It’s just this entire thing makes me nervous,” Cara replied. “This post was supposed to be like a vacation. You remember? That’s what you told me. And even though the first year was great, this shit is getting tiring. And don’t think I haven’t noticed the pressure has been getting to you, too. You can be a network specialist anywhere, so why not somewhere near the beach? California has beaches, Terre! You could have worked for a tech company in Silicon Valley.”
“We’ve gone through this, Cara. We could have, remember? But we wanted to get out and experience something new; live somewhere other than California before Sarah has to go to school. It’s only a temporary placement. Once I’ve completed the upgrades here, we’ll be back in San Francisco. Or wherever you want to go. I have unlimited options.”
Cara sat back down on the edge of the bed, her head in her hands. She embedded her fingers into the curls of her hair and then rubbed her eyes as she stood, taking a deep breath.
“I know. I’m sorry. These 3 a.m. alarms are getting to me, that’s all. I’m stressing out. I’m overtired. And it’s affecting Sarah, too. She’s falling asleep in the middle of playing.” Cara sighed.
“Falling asleep while playing is what kids do.” Terre attempted to smile reassuringly. “These activations are just false alarms. Nothing has come of them.”
“Yet.” Cara looked up at him, her dark brown eyes wet. He wasn’t sure if it was from being tired, or something more. She immediately looked apologetic. “I just worry,” she said.
Terre nodded. He understood the sentiment, but he had signed a contract. Only a few more months and he could start entertaining other offers.
He led them out of the bedroom, down the narrow hallway that connected their small home. It was cramped, but it more than served their needs. A photograph on the wall caught his eye as he passed: Cara and himself, hands clasped in a dance during their last New Year’s Eve party in San Francisco.
Cara pulled him close and ran her hand across the stubble on his chin. He would probably get an earful about the dress code for not shaving, but if he had to go in at 3 a.m., he was going to cut some corners.
“Two years is a hell of a temporary placement,” she continued. “Can you promise me, once you’ve finished these upgrades, you’ll start looking for something else? Something back on the mainland? Closer to home?”
“I promise,” he relented. It might have been the sleep deprivation, but as of late, Terre had been thinking the same thing. This—living in Guam—had never been the long-term plan. He had enjoyed his time here, but it was time to build a more permanent home for his family.
Terre kissed Cara on the forehead and ran his fingers across her cheek. “We’ll get this bug sorted out before you know it,” he said. “I know everyone’s on edge, but we’re safe here.”
Safe here? Who was he kidding? China and the US had been at each other’s throats for the last five years, and Guam was the first line of defense. It had felt like the right thing to say, and she didn’t question him, but Terre wasn’t sure he fully believed it.
They made their way through the house, toward the door. He tried to suppress a yawn and failed. Cara caught it, which made them both laugh.
Terre bent over as his wife stood on her tiptoes to kiss him.
“We’ll have the alarm silenced in an hour or so. Try to get some rest, and then take Sarah to the beach today. It’s supposed to be a nice one.”
He turned toward the door, but the sound of little feet running through the hallway made him pause. His three-year-old daughter, Sarah, stuck her head around the corner, her face scrunched up in exaggerated disgust.
“Daddy, why is the alarm going off again? I thought you said you’d fix it.”
He shot his wife a ‘Don’t even’ glance.
“Daddy’s still working on it, honey. My friend hasn’t figured out what’s wrong yet.”
“Why can’t you figure it out?”
“I’m trying, sweetheart. We’ll have it fixed soon, okay?”
She put her hands up to her ears. “It’s too loud.”
“I know, but it’s supposed to wake us up if we’re in danger.”
Her eyes went wide. “Are we in danger?”
“Not tonight, honey. It’s broken. That’s why we have to fix it: so it will only go off if there’s something wrong.”
That must have been a good enough explanation for her. Her hands still covering her ears, Sarah waddled down the hallway. Terre smiled after his daughter and wondered how, at one point not long ago, he had gotten by without her.
“I’ll see you in a few hours,” he said to his wife, giving her another kiss. He was just dragging his feet now; he needed to get going.
“Sounds good. Now go turn that thing off! Some of us would like to get some sleep.”
“Wait! Dad!” Sarah came barreling back out of her room, arm outstretched, with something dangling from her wrist. “You almost fo’got your lucky charm!”
He smiled. The ‘lucky charm’ was a chain with a robot pendant; a trinket she had picked out for his birthday a few months ago. Cara had taken her to the store to help pick out his present. The pendant had been on display at a store off-base, and Sarah had immediately fallen in love with it.
Of course she had. Sarah: the kid that loved all things robots. It probably had something to do with her favorite cartoon, Milo the Robot.
Just about everything she owned was robot themed. Even now, he smiled at her Milo the Robot pajamas. He hated the show, which naturally meant that Sarah loved it. And with those big brown eyes, it was impossible to say no.
At least it was educational. Terre suspected that Artificial Intelligence might be the only career path available in twenty years. Hell, IT was nearly the only career path available already. He got little time to pay attention to the news, but when he did, the stories of protests from the exponentially increasing number of people losing their jobs to automation were hard to ignore.
When Cara had given the pendant to him, he had improvised a splendid show of how much he loved the trinket. He had told her it was the perfect thing for him to wear at work; that it would be his lucky charm, and that it would keep him safe.
Sarah had been so proud when she found out that her dad’s job involved working on real robots. In her eyes, it was the best job in the world. No doubt she imagined he was doing something much more interesting than sitting at a desk all day, staring at broken code. The only ‘robots’ he had any interaction with were unmanned drones, and the one that delivered coffee and snacks. Boy, did he love that robot.
“Aw, thanks, Sarah! I did almost forget! Maybe this thing will help Daddy make the alarms stop ringing?”
“Uh-huh!” She nodded dramatically, an enormous grin on her face.
“Well”—he kissed her on the forehead and tousled her hair—“I best be off, then. Love you!”
“Love you, too! Go fix the noises!”
He laughed.
“Have a good day.” Cara kissed him on the lips one more time before he could finally leave.
“Why do you think I’m here?”
Kristopher Klein was in a foul mood. Terre had met up with the young man as they’d both strolled out of their homes and down the breezeway from the residential area of the base into the active area toward Intelligence.
Terre had made a comment about the need to quieten the alarms, which appeared to have agitated the young programmer.
They wouldn't get anywhere beginning the day at each other's throats.
“I just meant, I hope we can gain some headway today.” Terre tried to justify his comments, despite not believing he had a need to. “Not that you haven’t been trying.”
“I’ve been in briefings and exercises since I stepped off the plane from California,” K continued. “They can’t expect a miracle if they won’t let me work.”
K’s appearance was exactly how Terre imagined a lot of young computer programmers to look. A little disheveled; a little scrawny. His pale white skin hinted that he could have spent a few more hours at the beach. Even in the short time he had been on Guam, he must have had enough opportunity to hit the surf. He’d written K off as a gamer who didn’t enjoy the outdoors. But he wasn’t exactly out of shape—he must have kept active somehow. Though, he wouldn’t be running a marathon anytime soon.
It bothered Terre that Kristopher didn't need to conform to the same military dress code as he did. For reasons never made clear to Terre, Andersen’s XO—the base’s Executive Officer—had granted K an exemption from policy for his term on base. K sported both a ridiculous goatee and a shaggy mop of hair, and it was likely his contract wouldn’t be long enough to make him shave either one. It shouldn't have, but it got under Terre’s skin. Especially when Terre knew he would get razzed for his morning stubble.
He didn’t know why it bothered him, as he wouldn’t ever have worn his hair like that, anyway. He enjoyed being clean-cut and clean-shaven. His hand went to his face, feeling the roughness against his palm. Part of him enjoyed the feeling of making a small protest, but with the stubble being as rough as sandpaper, it made the rest of him itch. Terre would have taken the time to get rid of it if Fredricks hadn’t lost his shit about silencing the alarms as soon as possible. ‘No excuses,’ he’d said.
He better not complain about a little chin hair, then, Terre thought.
“I know,” Terre replied, “but we’ve got to do what we can. I’m sick of these early morning wake-up calls. Let’s see if we can figure this one out before oh-four-hundred.”
“So much for getting a swim in.”
“Would you really be going for a swim?”
“Probably not, but now I have an excuse not to.”
