A.I. Apocalypse by William Hertling Page A

the first floor. In the lobby, she found the security was doubled up.
    “Ma’am, do you require an escort?” one of the men on duty asked her.  
    “No, thank you, Private.” More and more puzzling.
    Sally stepped outside. The parking lot was quiet in the early morning hours. Well, not so early now -- it was going on 0730. She walked across the enormous parking lot. Late model American cars surrounded her. She came across a dark brown car left directly in the main right of way. She peered inside: empty. Sally continued to walk toward the main security gate, passing five more cars abandoned in the street.
    At the gate, she greeted the security guard, who said, “It’s something, ain’t it, ma’am?”
    Still not quite figuring out what was going on, she merely nodded. She gestured to the stairs which led up to the observation deck, an on-base euphemism for the machine gunner nest at the gate. The guard nodded his assent. “Go right ahead, ma’am.”
    Sally climbed the steep steps, and nodded to the private manning the machine gun. “Ma’am,” he said, standing to attention.  
    “At ease,” Sally said, “I just came for a look-see.”
    Sally peered out — seeing both Patuxent Freeway nearby and the Baltimore Washington Freeway in the distance. Cars were stationary on both highways. They were spread too far apart for it to be a traffic jam. Just stopped.
    “What happened, private?”
    “I don’t know, ma’am. About twenty minutes ago all the vehicles just stopped. Civilian and military. I seen a couple of old diesel Jeeps go by on the base, but that’s about it. Ma’am.”
    Sally stood for a minute, then headed back to the building, double-time. She arrived at the USCYBERCOM control room breathing a little fast.
    “General, I’ve seen it. But what does it mean? Ma’am?”
    “That’s what I want you to find out. All civilian communications and vehicles are down right now. Keep the infected bases quarantined, but pull your people off segmenting the bases. Instead I want you to look at the virus. I want to understand what it’s doing. I want you to tell me how we can counter it. Surely we have something in our arsenal for that. And get some coffee sent around, I think your people need it.”
    Sally looked at her squad, which in fact had been on duty for eight hours, and should normally go off-shift now. They’d need some coffee and some breakfast to boot.
    “Yes, ma’am, we’ll get right on it.”
    *   *   *
    Leon punched the button for the elevator for the third time before giving up. Last year the ancient elevator had been broken more often than not, and after months of ongoing repairs, the superintendent replaced it with a brand new model. Leon shook his head as he went for the stairs. This was the first time the new elevator had been broken. He walked down the six flights.
    As he emerged onto the side street where his apartment was located, something just didn’t feel right. He looked around curiously as he slowly walked toward school. The streets were crowded with people like usual. People walking to work, people waiting for the bus, people driving. But their voices were loud, almost strident. Suddenly it hit Leon: there were no car noises. None of the cars in the street were moving. He peered down the street. Maybe one up front was broken down?
    Leon continued his walk, ignoring the adults, and turned onto Flatlands Avenue, a big multilane street. And there he stopped, mouth open in astonishment. As far as he could see, Flatlands Avenue had turned into a giant parking lot. He looked in both direction. Strangely, it didn’t appear to be a traffic jam. The cars were spread out. A few were stopped at unusual angles. Adults milled about in the street and on the sidewalks, leaving their car doors open. City buses sat just as quiet and motionless as the cars.
    He hopped onto a mailbox for a better view, his sneakers squeaking against the slick metal surface. From his vantage point he saw a