Vanguard: Seasons 1-3: A Superhero Adventure Read online

  “What sort of oversight?” asked Thorne.

  “You’ll be in operational command,” said Ramsey. “This is a Special Access Program and in order to maintain the highest level of plausible deniability, you will have no contact with any government personnel other than myself. You will report directly to me, and through specifically-designated secure channels only.”

  McCabe raised his hand slightly. “I have a question. Since we’re talking specifics now, what exactly will our jobs be?”

  “Given that you’re the closest thing we have to an expert, you’ll be there in an advisory capacity, Doctor. But Colonel Thorne’s calling the shots,” said Hayworth. “So what do you say, Colonel?”

  “There’s a few things we’ll need,” said Thorne. “Facilities, equipment, transportation…”

  Hayworth rested his chin on his hand as he listened to Thorne run down everything he believed he and McCabe would need in order to make this operation a success. “Yes, yes. Absolutely, you’ll get whatever you need.”

  “And there’s one more thing,” said Thorne. “If we’re going to have a team like this, I need permission to assign a human operative as field leader. A soldier of my own choosing.”

  “Why’s that?” asked Hayworth.

  “I need to know there’s someone on that team I can trust to carry out my orders,” said Thorne. “Are we agreed?”

  The President stood and extended his open hand across the desk. Thorne followed his lead and the two men shared a firm handshake. Hayworth smiled before saying, “Welcome to Operation: Vanguard, Colonel.”

  ***

  After leaving the White House, Ramsey instructed Thorne to take McCabe to the Zenith Project. Thorne drove the two of them from Washington, DC into the state of Virginia. They had driven into the country, quite far off the beaten path, and Thorne hadn’t said a word since they got into his car.

  “Colonel, I have to ask just where we’re going?”

  “Here, to the Zenith Project.”

  They approached a dilapidated gas station and garage. Thorne brought the car to a slow cruise, checking his mirrors several times for anyone else on the road. Satisfied, he turned into the station and approached the garage door. Thorne pressed a button on the dashboard and the door opened.

  He pulled the car inside, onto the vehicle lift. Thorne turned off the engine and stepped out of the car. McCabe moved a bit more slowly as he stepped from the car, furrowing his brow as he peered out the garage at the dry pumps. The garage began to close. McCabe peered through the interior door leading into the attached building. It was a standard gas station convenience store, albeit with the lights shut off, the shelves long emptied and covered with dust. Cobwebs lined their metal surface, and it was clear the place had been unused for some time—or at least it was to appear that way.

  McCabe scratched his head. “I’m confused. What exactly is the Zenith Project?”

  Thorne gave no response, instead went over to the lift’s control panel. He reached for a button, but pulled rather than pushing. Beneath the red plastic cap was a small lens. Thorne knelt down and put his eye against it. Once the retinal identification was complete, the lift activated, raising the car and startling McCabe. The geneticist huffed his annoyance at his own response.

  “The Zenith Project began in the closing days of World War II,” said Thorne, moving into the pit below the car.

  “Tell me, Doctor, do you know anything about teleforce?”

  “It sounds familiar, but no, not off-hand.”

  “In 1935, a physicist claimed to have developed a weapon that could decimate both ground-based infantry troops and aircraft. A charged particle beam projector.”

  McCabe had an a-ha moment, realizing why it sounded familiar. “Oh, you mean Tesla’s death ray?”

  “Exactly.” In the pit, Thorne felt along the side for a hidden panel and once he found it, pulled it off. Underneath was a handprint scanner. He placed his palm against the pad and it flashed green, a trap-door in the pit sliding open to reveal a hidden staircase. While descending, he continued his story and McCabe followed. “Tesla reportedly worked on the teleforce weapon until his death in 1943. He claimed to have actually built a prototype, and legend has it he offered it to some governments.”

  McCabe stopped on his descent down the steps. “Right, but those are just urban legends, right?”

  Thorne looked over his shoulder and smirked, then continued down the steps. “We were at war, Doctor. The Manhattan Project and the atomic bomb allowed us to win it and changed the world, for better or worse. But it wasn’t the only thing the government was pursuing at the time. One such endeavor was called the Zenith Project.”

  They both arrived on the metal floor and came to a short corridor that led to another room. “Then the legends are true? Tesla did invent a death ray?”

  “Doctor, if the United States had a death ray, don’t you think we would have used it by now? Or at the very least threatened to?” asked Thorne. “After Tesla’s death, the FBI confiscated everything he owned. We hoped we would have found the teleforce weapon, but it wasn’t there. What we did find, though, was something much more startling.” Thorne opened the door and motioned for McCabe to enter. “After you.”

  McCabe peeked inside the dark room. There was some light from various monitors, but otherwise he didn’t know what was inside. He looked at Thorne, who just gave a reassuring nod. The geneticist entered and Thorne followed.

  The room appeared fairly large, but it was also extremely cluttered. An array of LCD monitors lined the walls. They alternated between a variety of television stations, scrolling through broadcasts from CNN, NBC, Al Jazeera, BBC, and numerous other networks from all over the world. Also stock market updates in real-time, many different websites, and even a few TV shows and movies. McCabe saw the outline of someone standing in front of the monitors. This individual slowly turned, and McCabe gasped.

  Bright, blue LED lights served as eyes, set within round housings that almost resembled goggles. His—or rather, its—body was completely constructed of reflective metal with other blue LEDs lined throughout. The blue eyes narrowed slightly, then widened once more. The robot spoke, but possessed no mouth.

  “Good morning,” he said.

  McCabe’s jaw fell open. Thorne stepped beside the shocked scientist and put his arm around him, grinning. “Dr. Howard McCabe, allow me to introduce you to the Zenith Project. Zenith, say hello to Dr. McCabe.”

  Servos whirred as Zenith held out his arm, his metal hand opening in a gesture of friendship. “A pleasure to meet you, Dr. McCabe. I’ve followed your work for some time. Very impressive, if I may say so.”

  McCabe’s eyes rolled into the back of his head and fortunately, Thorne was able to grab him before he hit the ground. The scientist had fainted.

  Zenith tilted his head to the side. “Hmm.”

  CHAPTER 4

  Thorne struggled slightly with McCabe’s dead weight. He gestured to a chair over by the desk. “Care to give me a hand?”

  The robot known as Zenith nodded and he quickly pulled the chair closer, dragging it across the ground on its wheels. He held it steady and Thorne let the geneticist slump into the upholstered seat. Thorne gently slapped McCabe’s face a little, while he said to Zenith, “Get him something to drink. And turn the lights on.”

  The LEDs that served as Zenith’s eyes flashed once and the monitors shut off, the lights in the room turning on. He went to fulfill Thorne’s other order and in the time it took for him to return with a paper cup of chilled water, McCabe stirred, his eyelids beginning to rise. He placed a hand on his head and looked into the face of Colonel Thorne. “What happened?”

  “You fainted,” said Zenith.

  McCabe groggily turned to the robot and jumped slightly. He allowed himself to relax again. “Sorry…I guess I didn’t know what to expect.”

  Thorne laughed and took the cup from Zenith, then handed it to McCabe. “I suppose that’s my fault, I should’ve done
a better job of preparing you for what you were about to see.”

  McCabe nodded, holding the cup by the bottom and nearly dumping all of its contents into his mouth at once. He sighed with satisfaction and gave it back to Thorne. “Although, can’t say I’d blame you. Even if you told me, seeing it is quite a different story.”

  “Shall we try this again?” asked the robot, offering his hand once more. “My name is Zenith.”

  The doctor smiled and accepted the handshake. “Howard McCabe.”

  “Zenith is what the FBI found when they confiscated Tesla’s belongings,” said Thorne.

  “How come this was never reported? The types of advancements that could have come from this discovery…” said McCabe.

  Thorne crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. “Back then, Zenith wasn’t what you see now. He was completely lifeless, basically an empty shell. Tesla was building a robot but for what purpose, we’ll never know. And it appeared that Tesla failed because there was no way to activate the robot. But desperate to end the war, Truman nonetheless greenlit the Zenith Project, put top engineers on it to see if they could get the automaton working. The idea being that if the US had even a small army of robotic shock troops, it would mean a land invasion of Japan would be much more feasible, since it wouldn’t include the projected loss of life to Allied forces. But the boys in the Manhattan Project were able to complete their project while the Zenith guys were still trying to turn the damn thing on.”

  “So how did you finally activate him?” asked McCabe.

  “They didn’t,” said Zenith.

  McCabe scratched his head in confusion. “Sorry?”

  “Not long after the war, Zenith came to life all on his own. Scared the crap out of the guys on the project,” said Thorne. “For decades the US government tried to figure out how he not only operated, but also how he became sentient.”

  McCabe took in Zenith’s form from head to toe, standing as he did so. He slowly circled the mysterious robot, examining him as best as possible.

  “I assure you, Dr. McCabe, I am quite real,” said Zenith, his head following McCabe’s movement, even turning completely around as it did.

  “How did this happen? You mean to say Tesla developed some sort of artificial intelligence before his death, and failed to tell anyone about it?”

  “I am not certain,” said Zenith. “All I am certain of is I awoke and discovered friends among the Zenith Project. But as to my origins, those remain a mystery.”

  “We’ve had a number of experts try to reverse-engineer Zenith, but with no luck,” said Thorne. “Then one day, everything changed.”

  “What happened?” asked McCabe.

  Thorne turned to Zenith and nodded. “It’s your story, you might as well tell it yourself.”

  Zenith acknowledged the suggestion and began. “Very well…”

  ***

  Throughout the 1950s, the United States continually attempted to experiment on me, the hope being that an army of robot soldiers would frighten the Soviet Union into submission, or at the very least, force them to rethink their expansion efforts.

  For the most part, I acquiesced to their demands. I did not attempt to stop them, although I could have. But slowly, I learned what such technology as the teleforce weapon might mean for mankind. And I theorized that if military operations had no potential cost, it would have a corruptive influence on those who commanded such a force.

  That was when, in the late 1950s, I protested against my would-be masters. I informed them that any further assault on me would be met with a demonstration of equal force. I would show them exactly what I was capable of.

  They believed I was, for lack of a better term, bluffing. They protested, informed me I had no rights, that I was nothing more than property. At that point, I decided to show them that I only remained under my own volition.

  The commander who told me I was property, a general, if I recall correctly, was the target of my…demonstration. With minimal effort, I gripped him by his throat and raised his body into the air. Beneath the iron grip of my metal fingers, I could feel how soft his flesh was, and how effortlessly I could end his existence. The others gasped in shock. Soldiers who were part of the project aimed their weapons at me.

  Over time, I have upgraded my body with new technology, new sensors to keep better track of the environment. At that point, however, my design was far simpler—just a humanoid body made of metal and a slightly crude construction.

  Still, although I had not the sensory input I currently possess, I could still detect the fear in the eyes of those men. Here they were gazing upon the form of one who could easily spell the destruction or subjugation of their entire race. And I will not deny that I was tempted.

  But one man ordered everyone to stand down. The President of the United States asked to speak with me privately. The others protested, but the President was insistent on granting me an audience. He said we would speak of this situation “man to man.” That one gesture meant a lot to me and so I gave him a chance to speak what was on his mind.

  Once the soldiers, advisors, and scientists had left the room, the President directed me past the testing apparatuses over to a table with several chairs. He gestured for me to sit in one and he sat in another.

  “Do you know why we called this the Zenith Project?” he asked.

  I shook my head.

  “The zenith is the time at which something is at its most powerful, or when it has reached its highest point.” He smiled as he pointed to me. “You are America’s zenith, my friend. I understand you know some of what has transpired in the world outside these walls.”

  I nodded. “Your weapons threaten the destruction of the entire world in a stalemate with another country. You yourself have maintained such a stalemate, even threatened to use those weapons yourself.”

  The President’s face was somber and he gave a solemn nod. “You’re right. But you have to understand, we are in a delicate state of affairs. There’s a belief I have that if the Soviets were allowed to continue unchecked, countless nations would fall to their influence.”

  “And so you want me to be your weapon,” I said. “But I will not. I will not allow myself to be used for such a purpose. And you know that no force you possess can prevent me from exiting these walls. Or ending your own life.”

  This President had seen warfare. He’d stared death in the face. There was not much he feared, but I could tell he was at the very least nervous in my presence. Yet to his credit, he maintained his composure. And that was when he gave me another option—a different path.

  “Instead of us using you, what if you were to help us?”

  I tilted my head at this. “Help you? In what way?”

  The President folded his hands together and set them on his lap. “You seem to have quite a lot of knowledge that we can benefit from. Perhaps a partnership would be more beneficial.”

  At this, I protested. “I will not build weapons for you.”

  “Then help us crack the problems that we have difficulty with. I believe there is a lot of good you can do for humanity, and I can see to it you get those resources you require.”

  I had considered this idea, raising my hand to my chin in a gesture that felt comfortable. “And I have your word that I would retain autonomy in this matter?”

  “You’ll have an advisor, but for the most part, you work on your own. You tell us what you need and we’ll try to accommodate you as best we can.”

  ***

  “From that day forth, I began working with the United States government, providing them with technology that I developed, helping them with problems they themselves could not solve,” said Zenith. “And in return, I was given the means to not only conduct my research with privacy, but also the tools to upgrade myself.”

  “There’s a lot more to this we can’t tell you, because it remains highly classified,” said Thorne. “Suffice to say, Zenith has had a tremendous impact on the way communications technology in particul
ar has advanced over the decades.”

  “Which, of course, brings us to the present day,” said Zenith, then gestured and turned towards the row of displays. “Please direct your attention to the monitor screens.”

  McCabe adjusted his glasses and Thorne stood upright as well. The two men came up, flanking Zenith, and with a silent command, the monitors all changed so they showed parts of one giant image, that of the planet.

  “As I understand it, there are numerous mutations occurring all across the globe.” While Zenith spoke, the image of the globe changed slightly and different points of interest were marked on the map.

  “How’d you know about this?” asked Thorne. “I didn’t have a chance to tell you anything yet.”

  “I switched on the microphone inside your cellular phone and monitored the conversation you had in the Oval Office,” said Zenith.

  Thorne's face became incredulous. “You what? You were spying on me?”

  Zenith turned to the soldier and held up his hand in a simple gesture. “Please, my friend, do not be alarmed. Normally I would respect your need for privacy, but when we are dealing with reduced funding and changing administrations, there is always the worry that my time here shall be cut short. It is simply a matter of self-preservation.”

  Thorne sighed. He didn’t like Zenith’s explanation, but he did suppose it made a degree of sense. If he were in the robot’s position, he probably would have done the same thing. One can never be too careful in a world where the politics change on a daily basis.

  “Also, as I said, I have been aware of Dr. McCabe’s work for some time and have used it to examine some alarming cases in my leisure time,” said Zenith. “I do believe the Doctor’s theory that all of humanity has been transformed by some sort of external event to be true. This is, of course, a troubling prospect. I believe history shows us there are two certainties when it comes to humanity. First, that absolute power corrupts absolutely. And second, that whenever a new resource has been unearthed, man has found a way to exploit it. When dealing with people who can violate the laws of physics as we know them, we are faced with a new conundrum: these men and women will be exploited by those in power. Or they will exploit their abilities themselves. And so, I fully understand and sympathize with the President’s desire for a response team.”