Read Habitats (an Ell Donsaii story #7) for Free Online Page B

chime from the security AI. He shook his head , realizing the system had kicked out another port. Most people didn’t understand that they needed a permit to ship a package containing a port so this happened fairly often. Lord only knows what it’ll be like when the ports are more common. He scanned down to see the sender’s information. Sent by a John Smith of Atlanta Georgia. Dropped off at a drop box near downtown Atlanta. He shrugged and scrolled to the destination. “Emily Cline, de mily ClSocial Secretary, 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, Washington D.C.”
    Oh shit!
    The front legs of Fred’s chair hit the floor as he told his AI to contact the FedEx liaison at Homeland Security.
    “Homeland Security, Harold Wilkerson speaking. What’s the issue?” Harold sounded bored, probably because they got a lot of people “crying wolf.”
    “This is Fred Hillman at FedEx Memphis. We have a package transiting our facility that contains an unpermitted port . It’s addressed to the White House.”
    Harold no longer sounded bored. H e peppered Fred with demands and questions. First to make sure the package was no longer in transit, then to determine it was in a safe location. “What else is in the package?”
    “The x-ray scanner AI says there is a probable GPS tracker in the package too.”
    “Crap! OK I’m rousting folks from our local office to get out there, but you’ve got to be thinking that if the sender realizes that it’s stopped moving they might start trying to blow it up and damage your facility.”
    Fred said, “Should be fine ; it’s in a bomb proof concrete bunker.”
    Harold raised an eyebrow, “Is that bunker airtight? Cause if it isn’t, and they start sending a flammable like natural gas through that port you could be in for an explosion outside the bunker.”
    Fred swallowed, suddenly thinking about how his office wasn’t all that far from the bunker, “Uh, I don’t think so.”
    Harold said, “OK, it’s going to take our folks a while to get there. It will also take quite a while for enough gas to go through the port to make it dangerous. Can you get down there quickly and cut the wire between the electronics and the port itself?”
    Fred worked his cheeks to moisten a suddenly dry mouth and croaked, “Is that safe?”
    Harold said, “Yeah, the current in the wire is small. If you cut it soon there won’t be much gas. Probably none, they’ve got to expect the package to stop briefly in Memphis anyway.”
    Fred stood and looked out his window into the distribution center’s maze of belts and the packages making their way through it. The “dangerous package bunker” was only about thirty feet away. He picked up a box cutter and started out the door. “OK, I’m on my way. How a m I gonna know what wire to cut? I’ve never seen one of these things.”
    “I’ll send a picture to your HUD.”
    Fred had just reached the door of the bunker when a flash on his HUD told him the image had arrived. “Got the picture,” he said, looking up.
    Harold said, “You see, there’s just the port and the glob of epoxy with the wire between. Only one wire to cut.”
    “What if there’s a bomb in the package too? I open the package and it goes boom.”
    “Nah, you guys ’ve been catching bombs for years. They should know better than to try to send a bomb too. Did your security AI pick up explosives with its sniffers? Or think the wiring looked like a bomb?”
    “No.” Fred pushed open the heavy door into the bunker. He glanced up at the night sky visible through the big “chimney” intended to vent any blasts or toxins straight up , wondering if any flammable gas wouldn’t have mostly gone up the chimney. He sniffed. It didn’t smell like gas. He started down the ladder into the bunker, hearing the door close above him with a muffled boom. The package lay on a steel exam table. A tremor went through him as he box cuttered open the side of the package. A port, much like the one he could see on