by M. R. Forbes
“That was all circumstantial. I’m still not about to be so forgiving to someone who caused you so much distress. Besides, omelettes and eggs, remember? Whatever the hell that means.”
“At least she tried to make up for her mistake.” She paused, giving herself a moment to regroup her thoughts. “Anyway, you can’t claim you didn’t save my life this time. You caught me.”
“I was happy to do it. I saved your life in the corridor too, which means you owe me one now. I guess you’re still stuck with me.”
“I never said I was going to follow your stupid Goreshin sense of honor. I don’t owe you anything.” She let a small smirk crease the corner of her mouth.
“So you want me to quit the team, then?” he asked.
She reached out, putting her hand on the back of one of his claws. “Of course not. But I did save your life from the falling synths. So that makes us even.”
“No, you saved your own life. I just happened to benefit from it.”
“You’re impossible.”
“In a good way.”
She nodded. “Yeah. In a good way.”
“What do we do now?” he asked. “I don’t think this mission is going the way the Colonel planned.”
“That seems to be standard operating procedure lately. I know I didn’t expect Pallimo to start dropping synths on us. And I damn well didn’t expect this.” She shook her arm, leaving a trail of glowing green in the darkness. “We aren’t going to get control of the synths without Sykes, and either Pallimo or the Collective are jamming our coms. I think our best bet is to try to catch up with Quark and beat a fast retreat. I hate to give up on anything, but I think we need to take the loss in this battle if we want a chance to win the war.”
“Somehow, I don’t think the Colonel would agree with you.”
“That’s because he’s old and stubborn. If we can get out of here, we still have a chance to grab the Oracle from the Worldbrain. Maybe then we can get a grip on all of this.”
“I’m with you, Witchy,” Tibor said. “Do you have any idea where we are?”
“No clue. The Colonel only gave me directions going up.”
Tibor grunted, turning to the tube doors beside him. He lashed into them angrily, pulling the left side violently away and revealing a pitch black corridor beyond.
“Then I guess we’ll have to improvise,” he said. “Blind ladies first.”
Hayley moved in front of Tibor, drawing her sidearm and keeping it ready. The corridor ahead of them was dark and deserted. She had no idea where they were, but she was pretty sure they were near the bottom of the station.
“Let’s hope Quark stays on target,” she said. As long as the Colonel kept moving toward Station Control, they had a chance to rejoin him.
She started forward, moving into the hallway. The area wasn’t littered with garbage like the corridor further up, but she had a feeling it was only lightly traveled. The air down here was stale and moist and had an unappealing smell that gave her the impression the trash recyclers weren’t too far away.
“Stinks down here,” Tibor said, echoing the thought.
“Better smelly than dead,” she replied.
“Roger that.”
“Colonel, do you copy?” Hayley said, trying the comm again. “Colonel, come in.”
She didn’t expect a reply, and she didn’t get one. She continued down the corridor, breaking into a run. She heard Tibor drop onto all fours behind her to better keep the pace, trailing her through the long passage.
They reached a simple, unmarked hatch at the end. The power to it had been shut down, leaving it as a heavy, impenetrable slab of metal.
Impenetrable for most individuals, anyway.
Hayley reached out to it with the naniates, using them to easily shift the slab to the side. It was only once they were through the doorway and the naniates were back on her flesh that she realized commanding them wasn’t draining her like the Meijo did. She still felt strong and alert when she normally would have been ready to collapse.
She appreciated the side-effect. She also didn’t trust it. While they were lost somewhere in the bowels of Rage Station, the Collective was up there, somewhere, doing who the hell knew what. She was hopeful she and Tibor would catch up to Quark, but she was also fearful they wouldn’t find the Colonel alive. They were too far out of the loop, and the more she thought about it, the less she liked it.
Especially since she had no fragging idea where the hell they were.
She could feel herself getting angrier with each passing second. The corridor they entered continued, turning with the shape of the station, the angle of the curve confirming they were near the bottom. The smell was getting worse too. They had to be close to the trash recycling unit.
They confirmed the position a moment later, coming up on another unmarked hatch. Hayley pulled it open, nearly vomiting at the sudden waft of stench that greeted them.
“Shit,” Tibor said, coughing through the smell.
“Among other things,” Hayley replied.
The entire area had been shut down, but she was able to use Tibor’s qi and the naniates she collected to visualize the space despite the darkness. She could make out multiple piles of waste and refuse covering the floor ahead of them, ejected through large pipes that terminated overhead, still spilling out the water and liquid waste that carried the solids through the system and drained out through a tight honeycomb network of filtration built into the floor. Dozens of bots of various shapes and sizes stood motionless among the drek, frozen in place when the system had been taken offline, some of them right in the middle of scooping the filth into large receptacles. There was a larger hatch on the floor near the center of the room, a secondary chute that would lead to the recycling unit.
She didn’t see another access door, but it was probably hidden behind one of the stacks of trash, beyond her line of sight.
“At least now we know where we are,” she said.
“Probably the place I least want to be,” Tibor replied.
“Come on,” she said. “There has to be another door here somewhere. If this station follows any kind of standard design principles, it should lead out to a bot maintenance area, which should lead out to Internal, which should bring us back near the reactor. We know the way out from there.”
“What about Pallimo and the Collective?”
“One problem at a time. We can’t do anything trapped down here.”
Tibor lifted his foot, wiggling his large hind claws. “I wish I was wearing boots.”
“Don’t worry, there’s enough water, I’m sure the urine is pretty diluted.”
“It’s not the urine I was thinking about.”
“You kill people with your feet, and you’re worried about a little shit?”
“That’s different.”
“Come on.”
Hayley moved out onto the grooved floor. It was relatively clean near the edges, and she did her best to find a path that wasn’t covered in waste, continuing to move as quickly as possible. She felt the pressure and her frustration continuing to increase, the unknown of what was happening in the rest of the station an ever-expanding weight on her mind.
They were halfway across the floor, walking close to the disposal chute at the center of the unit and vectoring around a large garbage pile when the bot nearest them suddenly came back to life. The battery that powered it emitted the light of its energy in Hayley’s vision. That spark of light morphed into a web of energy that spread throughout the machine.
Energy that began to take on a noticeably copper-green hue.
“Uh, Witchy,” Tibor said, able to see the bot in the dim green light provided by the naniates.
“I see it,” Hayley said.
“Do you see them, too?”
She looked past the first bot, quickly scanning the room. The rest of the machines were as active as the first, glowing with the green energy of the Collective’s naniates.
They weren’t resuming thei
r work shoveling shit.
They were moving into position to attack.
11
“What the hell is going on here, Witchy?” Tibor said, lowering himself into a defensive position beside her, claws out and teeth bared. “Seriously.”
Hayley had seen the Collective seize control of people by infecting their minds. It stood to reason it could gain control of machines just as easily.
The bots closed in on them from across the room. Some were small and wheeled, barely large enough to hit them in the shins. Others were over half a dozen meters tall, treaded or bipedal, with scoops or incinerators or other potentially dangerous appendages attached to their forms. They all glowed with the copper-green of the Collective’s naniates, moving toward them in perfect unison, seeking to box them in.
“Can you take them out?” she asked.
“All of them?” Tibor turned his head, taking stock of the approaching army. “They’re pretty big and heavy. Not to mention metal. My claws don’t do metal all that well.”
“You tore the crap out of the synths.”
“They were made to replicate humans. They’re more frail by default.”
“Good point.”
They started to back away from the closest group, maneuvering toward the center of the room. One of the smaller wheeled bots scooted ahead in an odd charge. Tibor pulled his leg back, preparing to kick it as it approached.
It exploded at his feet before he could make contact, the small force enough to knock the Goreshin off balance and onto his back. He growled a curse as he hit the ground.
Then the rest of the smaller bots joined the charge, racing at them in a kamikaze dash. Hayley raised her gun and started firing, plasma bolts hissing through the air, striking the machines and burning through their soft shells. She knocked out three of them in a hurry, their electronics sparking and smoking as they came to a sudden stop.
Three wasn’t nearly enough. A dozen more were still rolling their way, too many to stop at once.
“Witchy, go,” Tibor said, still getting back to his feet.
“I’m not leaving you,” she replied.
She brought up her free hand. She had seen what the Collective’s naniates could do. Could she use them the same way? A simple thought transmitted the command and a flash of light burned from her palm, stretching out and sweeping over a line of bots. The machines exploded as the beam hit them, reduced to slagged metal in an instant.
It seemed she could.
She spun in a tight circle, aiming the energy toward the bots. The assault decimated the tiny attackers, clearing the rush in seconds and leaving a wide smile on her face.
Was this what it felt like to have the Nephilim Gift? Was this the power Thraven had once offered her? According to the Collective, she had been too pure of heart, too compassionate, to accept the promises of Lucifer’s creation, and it had nearly killed her. But these naniates held all of the Gift’s power with none of those strings. If she could collect enough of them, if she could find a way to keep a reserve of them, or maybe if she joined forces with the Collective, she could…
A sudden panic stretched through her, turning her body cold. She lowered her hand, releasing the energy even though there were still a few bots remaining, not to mention the larger ones still rumbling their way.
“Witchy?” Tibor said. He was back on his feet, and he moved to shield her from the self-destructive machines.
She stood in place, her mind reeling. She could still sense the naniates on her body, tingling with energy wherever the Koosian elders had placed a tattoo. A moment ago that tingling had reminded her of the ability that made her special.
Now it was making her sick.
She glanced at Tibor. His qi was angry and fearful. He was worried about her. She was worried too. The naniates couldn’t survive inside her, but were they affecting her from the surface? Were they trying to turn the tables, giving her a taste of what they could offer in order to seize control? Or was she that close to the line between goodness and madness?
Whatever it was, she didn’t like it, and she didn’t want it.
She clenched her teeth, silently screaming at the naniates covering her flesh to get the hell off.
They resisted. Hayley could feel them clinging to her in an effort to refuse her command.
“Don’t you want the power, Witchy?” Gant said. “We’d make an unstoppable team. If you can’t beat us, why not join us?”
“Witchy?” Tibor said again. “We’re about to get incinerated here.”
“We’re the same, you and us,” the Collective said through her AI. “Your DNA is a part of us, and our DNA is a part of you.”
“You don’t need me,” Hayley said.
“Yes, I do,” Tibor said, not realizing she wasn’t talking to him.
“No, we don’t,” the Collective said. “But we still want you with us. We’re family. We forgive you.”
“Will you stop the bots?” Hayley asked.
“I already told you I can’t fight them all,” Tibor replied. “But I’ll try if that’s what you want.”
“We can stop them if you agree to let us in. We can still be together.”
Hayley turned toward Tibor. He was facing her, ready to pounce on the nearest bot if she gave the order. He was so damn loyal. She loved that about him. She couldn’t let him die for her.
She also couldn’t let the Collective get any deeper into her head.
She reached up, grabbing her visor and ripping it off. As soon as she did, she felt a huge weight lift from her mind, the connection between her and the Collective violently broken. She opened her mouth in a silent scream, willing the naniates away from her with every ounce of her being.
The force of the rejection was enough to send a shockwave rippling through the air, a blast of invisible energy that bent space and time ahead of it and then snapped back into place, causing the entire room to buckle and shake and knocking all of its other occupants to the ground.
She stood in the suddenly calm center, clutching the visor in her hand, looking out at the downed bots. Her body felt like it was about to collapse. Her head was suddenly throbbing. Colors danced in front of her, and within it she could almost make out the string of spacetime she had released rippling back to her. She pulled herself out of the moment, looking for Tibor, heart racing in a sudden panic.
He was getting up for the second time. The bots were getting back in order too. They were stuck. Trapped. There was no time to escape, and nowhere to escape to.
She struggled to stay alert and regain control of her vision. Tibor’s red and yellow and white qi spread out around her, painting the landscape with color. There was a dark spot at the center of it. The chute leading into the trash recycling unit. It was too small for the large bots to enter.
Her mind finally caught up with her eyes. Hadn’t Quark said this station was over two hundred years old?
“Xolo,” she said. “I have an idea.”
She started running, sprinting for the open hatch in the center of the room. Tibor didn’t hesitate, dropping to all fours and hustling behind her. A pair of large bots were ahead of them, trying to seal the gap before they made it past.
It was going to be close.
She bounced forward, skipping along the ground in quick strides, her feet barely touching the floor before she was off again. The bots loomed overhead, arms shifting to aim their makeshift weapons at them, laser cutters used to help break solidified waste into smaller chunks.
The hatch was dead ahead. The bots were on either side, their feet near the edge. She threw herself forward, diving to the ground and gliding on her stomach toward the hole. She didn’t see the bots as she slid beneath them, and she could only hope they wouldn’t have time to bring the laser cutters to bear.
She made it through, the front half of her body clearing the edge of the hatch, her weight pulling her over and down. She fell head-first into the chute, hitting the side of it before falling straight down.
&nb
sp; Without her visor, she didn’t have Gant to tell he how far it was to the bottom. She found it fast enough, landing a few seconds later in a pile of filth and sinking far enough in that for a moment she thought she might drown in it. She struggled within it, doing her best to roll away.
A second later, Tibor splashed into the garbage beside her, nearly crushing her under his weight. He sank in, growling and sputtering as he kicked the trash away from him.
Hayley managed to find her balance, getting to her feet and standing on top of the pile. She scanned the area, eager for confirmation that she had been right about Rage Station and its waste handling practices.
She found the hatch a heartbeat later.
“I have never been so happy to smell so awful in my entire life,” Hayley said.
Tibor stood up, covered in dark slime and debris and gagging against the stench.
“Where the hell did you just lead me?” he asked
“Rage Station is over two hundred years old,” she said.
“So?”
“So, it doesn’t have a built-in waste recycling unit.”
“So?” Tibor repeated.
She pointed to the hatch. “So, how do you think they get rid of the trash?”
“I don’t know, Witchy. I have to be honest; I’m not really in the mood for this game right now. I damn near got my ass lasered off.”
“They take it out to the sun and eject it.”
Tibor stared at her, his qi sharp with confusion. He still wasn’t getting the hint.
“A ship. We’re on a fragging ship. I just had the damn Collective trying to take over my mind. What’s your excuse?”
His snout opened in an awkward grin. “We’re on a ship?”
“Yes.”
“Which we can take to the top of the station from the outside?”
“How would we get back inside? No, but there has to be a matching docking link for the crew, and there’s a good chance that connection leads back through Support.”
“Which is inside the secure area.”
“Exactly. Pallimo may have helped us by almost killing us.”
“Wouldn’t that be a kick in the asteroid?”
