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There shouldn’t be any flaws. We’d been working on this project for months. We’d tested, improved, and revised codes. Nothing should go wrong.
Maxwell’s fingers danced across the pad, sending commands to the drones. And it received every command as coded. It did exactly what a combat drone should. First reconnaissance and surveillance—capturing enemies' positions, troop movements and battlefield situations. Then flight— smooth maneuvers and turns, but that wasn’t all.
Pride sank every fire in me as I anticipated the final, most important part, the strike.
Almost immediately, the drone spotted an enemy tank. I watched as the drone adjusted to produce two lasers from underneath its body then proceeded to strike. But instead of locking on the target for a simulated airstrike, it lurched.
What?
Gasps from the others filled the room as the drone lurched erratically. Its form was in a constant twist and turn as if caught in a sudden downdraft.
Fuck.
“What the fuck is happening?” I fixed my eyes on the malfunctioning drone.
“I— I d-don’t know, sir, it seems to be glitching.” Maxwell released through a shaky voice as he continued to fiddle with the gamepad. “It doesn’t seem to be from the control pad.”
Then from what?
“Turn it off,” I growled. I needed the fucking lights to be on.
Instantly, Maxwell slammed the laptop shut and the lights came on.
“Can somebody explain to me why that just happened?”
I tried to control the raging anger inside of me, but the deafening silence was doing nothing to help.
Inhaling some much-needed air, I scanned the faces in the room. All the team heads were present. Robotics, aerodynamics, weaponry, software, sensors.
All these fucking teams and the simulation couldn’t endure a smooth operation?
“Sir, it’s- it’s a problem with the code.” Maxwell was the only one bold enough to answer.
“What do you mean?” I was the head of the software department. The codes had been revised and improved. How was there a fucking bug at this critical moment?
How was there a fucking bug when I had a presentation to the chief military officer tomorrow?
“I believe it’s a bug, sir.”
“A bug in the control software.” Someone else from the software team added. I didn’t care to know who. I didn’t need them to fucking tell me.
The urge to fist my hair was strong.
Fuck. It could have resulted from a last-minute code integration. Or corrupted data but that was highly unlikely. If the data was corrupted we’d have seen that before now. It was definitely a recent code—- something we used to fix an error. While fixing the error it must have introduced a conflict with the existing control software.
“We could start working on it now. It might be an easy fix.” Jameson, the lanky guy with curly hair, spoke.
And if it isn’t?
Releasing another sigh, I turned to stare at their faces. They were clearly stressed, tired, frustrated, just like me.
“Yes. It could be easy.” Someone else from another unit spoke. I didn’t know his name. “It could have resulted from the very recent code while we tried to improve the sta—”
“No.” I clenched my fist.
The simulation needed to be fixed in time but not at the expense of human cost. I needed to be rational.
“The meeting is over.”
