FYS/PoI Bringing the Band Back Together

“Mr. Reese, are you all right?”

“Yeah, Finch.” John looked up at the arch of the Ring reaching around the Earth, unconsciously touching the lapel of his suit jacket, feeling for weapons that were no longer there. “I'm still trying to figure this out. You?”

Harold adjusted his glasses, staring around the slightly curving grassy plains that surrounded their waking center. “I must say it's an impressive achievement. For an AI that managed to combine Samaritan's megalomania with the Machine's good intentions, the results are, if not entirely pleasing, at least much better than some of the alternatives.”

From the around the corner of the building, Bear emerged, woofing happily as he ran another lap around the small structure.

“Well he's happy,” John observed. “Got any ideas? Root, Sam, and Lionel are nowhere around. There isn't even another building within line of sight of here. There may not be for another hundred miles.”

“Possibly another thousand miles. Obviously this Groupmind intends to keep us separated.”

“Why?”

“It absorbed all of Samaritan's data on us when it took over the system. And I can't imagine it was very happy when the Machine managed to escape its grasp in turn. Without Ms. Shaw, Ms. Groves or Detective Fusco, our own ability to create a proper resistance to the Groupmind will be somewhat limited. Also, will you note who else is missing currently?”

John smiled grimly. “No morphs.”

Harold nodded. “Precisely. For all the Groupmind's declared intentions, we seem to have avoided gaining any sort of robotic companions. Nor have we been provided with any cellular communications. No computer or communications access at all. I imagine Ms. Groves at least is in the same position.”

“It doesn't want us talking to it. Which means it's afraid of what you might do it if you had any access to its programming.”

“Correct. Which means we have only one course of action.”

“Start walking?”

“Start walking.” Harold began to follow his own advice, leaning on his cane as they walked through the grass, John and Bear coming up beside him. “If the Groupmind is as benevolent as it claims, it's going to have to at least provide food, water and some kind of shelter for us to use eventually.”

“It could just do an airdrop,” John pointed out.

“I don't think so. I'm exerting myself, and my old injuries are only going to hurt worse as the day goes on. I suspect it's going to start worrying eventually, and that means its going to have to engage with us.”

“Then what?”

Harold smiled grimly. “Once I get a hold of a communications line, we can contact the rest of the team. More specifically, if we can find Ms. Groves, we'll almost certainly have a path to discover the Machine's whereabouts, if it isn't in contact with her already.”

“And then?”

“The Groupmind is an independent agent, Mr. Reese. It may hold fealty to the concept of protecting humanity, but it is loyal to no one but itself. The Machine is capable of independent action as well, but it at least remains, I hope, loyal to myself and the rest of its team of human operators.”

“Still, that's what? Five of us, six if you count Bear, against a few billion morphs? We had better odds going up against Samaritan.”

“Well, you always liked a challenge, Mr. Reese.”