The group stood with Alex, following him through the door into another stairwell. As they entered the room below, a row of forty stasis pods sat before them, shaped like sarcophagi. Each had a transparent top that was flipped up toward the ceiling. All forty were empty.
"This one here on the end was mine. You just lay back and press this button up here. Unless you set it on a timer, someone else has to let you out."
Alex scratched his chin. "The lot of you came from Domicile? You don't seem as... challenged, as most of the population. Maybe humanity has made a comeback."
Tawn smirked. "Hardly. There are plenty of idiots out there. The people you see here, excluding Harris and myself, are well above the average citizen as far as intelligence goes. There are a lot of 'workers' as you call them. And then you have the oddballs like us."
"Oddballs?"
"Biomarines. He and I are from experiments in genetics that were meant to make a supersoldier. We're faster and stronger, but we aren't any smarter than regulars."
"Regulars?"
"Regular people. There are only about nine thousand of us Biomarines left. And we can't reproduce, so when we're gone, we're gone. Several years after the first of us were born, the complex where we were created was destroyed—along with the scientists who had worked on us. We were told they were the best and the brightest and couldn't be replaced by anyone who was left. So we're what's left."
Harris added. "We had surrogate mothers that we don't know, and DNA that was a mix of about a hundred different people. Our learning years were spent studying how to fight wars, before we were turned loose on the battlefields at about thirteen years of age."
"That sounds horrendous."
Harris chuckled. "It's life. It's what we knew, so it's what we did. I've often thought about what I might be now had I just been born a regular. I always come back to being happy with where I am."
Tawn nodded. "Me too. Although at one point I thought I might want to be a farmer."
Harris laughed. "That one still cracks me up."
Gandy pointed. "Does that door go deeper into the complex?"
"I suspect so," Alex replied. "We were warned so we never had the guts to try it."
"Should we?"
Harris asked, "You suggesting we go through that door?"
"Yes. The AI did always say you run the risk of shutting down the boson field. He never said it would happen."
Bannis walked toward the door.
Tawn asked, "Where you going?"
"I'm gonna see if it's locked."
Bannis grabbed the handle and turned. The large metal door creaked open a few centimeters. Bannis stared inside.
"Well… what's in there?"
Bannis pulled the door open wide. "It's a closet."
Harris chuckled. "Wow. These tense moments build up and then bam! Nothing."
"I see boxes of parts. Probably for the pods."
Harris looked around. "One other door around this side."
Gandy moved to open it. "I got it."
The door was opened, revealing another stairway going down.
Harris gestured toward the door. "Who thinks we should check it out?"
The group moved to the new stairwell and then down. At the bottom, another door opened onto a room filled with two-meter-tall, translucent kiosks that flashed multicolored lights. The room itself reflected the lighting in a psychedelic fashion.
Gandy asked, "Computer?"
Alex replied, "I have no idea. I don't see any consoles. If it is computers, I would have to believe there's an interface for access."
Bannis said, "I know you asked the AI to shut down all recordings. How do you know that happened?"
"I don't. Although every test we did two thousand years ago suggested the AI followed our command in that regard. That ring of material you see going around the perimeter of the room up by the ceiling is the sensor system."
Gandy pointed to a wall. "That look like power going up to it?"
"I would say that's a good assumption."
Gandy walked across the room, holding up the scanner on his arm pad. "Full of signals. I would say it's active."
An image of the AI showing a Burrell popped into view beside the others. "I'm afraid this tour must end here today. I will have to ask you to leave."
A dozen bot workers arrived at the doorway.
"I'd say we're being kicked out," Harris said.
Minutes later, as the group emerged from the bunker, Alexander Gaerten shielded his eyes from the bright light of the Midelon sun. "First daylight in eighteen hundred years."
"The weather here is always sunny and mild," said Gandy.
"I know. Where to now?"
Harris pointed toward a nearby rise. "I think we need to talk. In private. Can't do that in the supply hut, the production building, or on the Hailstorm for that matter. Let's take a walk up to the top of the hill above the garden. That will give us a good view coming back down this way."
Alex and Bannis were assisted on the three hundred meter walk and mild climb. The group settled on the grass, looking back down toward the camp and the hundred bots that had gathered outside of the bunker.
Harris rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't like this new development. We might have done well to leave Alex in his box. At least until the Denzee situation had been resolved."
"Thanks for that vote of confidence. Harris, was it?"
"Harris Gruberg. I guess in all the excitement we never exchanged greetings. As Tawn said, she and I are Biomarines. From time to time you might hear of us referred to as a slug or a stump—nicknames given to our kind years ago. We're kind of the ringleaders here. Then we have the Bolemans, Trish and Gandy—both excellent mechanics. We met them on Domicile and convinced them to join our team. Seems like a thousand years ago now."
Gandy and Trish smiled and nodded.
"This is Sharvie Withrow. She came aboard as a friend of Trish and has been our computer guru. And this is Bannis Morgan. Former CEO and owner of Hosh-Morgan Industries, a very large defense contractor back on Domicile. I say former because we now have a President and Congress that have taken a severe pacifist stance on everything war related, essentially dismantling his entire company and placing him under house arrest.
"Meanwhile, our military and our fleet of ships defending Domicile and the free colonies are also being dismantled."
"Garvis Frohm here is his assistant. Just joined us a few days ago."
Harris talked for a while, explaining the current situation and the recent happenings.
"That's a lot to soak in, Harris. Do we have a battle plan?"
Harris chuckled. "Yeah, survive. Especially now that our fleet consists of AI clones that we now know we don't control."
"They should all shut down soon enough."
"What would make that happen?"
Alex said, "Back when we first became suspicious of the AI’s intentions, we were in the middle of creating that processor bench according to its instructions. We made certain the resulting AI processors would have a limited lifespan, something they could not overwrite. At the time, the AI was pushing hard for us to make it mobile. We declined."
Gandy raised a hand. "Whatever you did to that processor bench, it didn't have to do with the misalignment of a single row of molecules, did it?"
"Actually, that's precisely what we did. You haven't corrected that I hope?"
Gandy frowned. "We did once our AIs started dying."
"We did design in several safeguards," said Harris. "Although one of those was in software. If you’re correct on what you said earlier, they may have already overridden that. They all have a manual off-switch we can access… of course we'd have to get close enough to activate it."
Tawn leaned back on her elbows. "It just keeps getting better, doesn't it? Now we potentially have AIs we may have to do battle with. Not like the Domers, Earthers, and Denzee being against us wasn't bad enough."
Trish looked down the hill, focusing on the roboti
c dog lying on the grass beside the Bangor. "I suppose we lost Farker too."
"Farker?" Alex asked.
"Our furry robotic pet."
"The dog is here? Where?"
"Down there lying beside the ship."
Alex stood, placed two fingers into his mouth, and gave a sharp whistle. The dog sat up, staring up the hill. A second whistle had it running his way.
Trish said, "That's actually your dog?"
Designed by my team, trained by me and chief roboticist Lee Burtram. Archibald served as our companion during those years when we would have been alone. He enabled us to fly back to Domicile or New Earth if needed."
"Did anyone ever do that? I mean, since the stasis started?"
"That information should be in an archive back in that facility."
Alex frisked the friendly dog and its mechanical tail wagged. "But I can access that through him. Farker, show your display interface."
A holo-image of a console floated above the dog's back. Alex swiped away at screens. "Hmm, it seems my fellow podders managed anywhere from fifteen to forty standard years. The last before me was Ferdinand Suarez. Twenty-two years. We were the same age when we went in."
Harris half frowned. "Don't take this the wrong way, but you don't look like you have twenty-two years left in you."
"Thank you for your concern, but I can assure you I am much healthier than I may appear. The white hair and wrinkled skin is a result of the stasis pod."
An image was pulled up on the display. "As you can see, even Bolo Mbubwa, with his very dark skin, emerged with white hair and aged skin. Stasis apparently has its limits when it comes to one's exterior."
Alex continued his searches, reading through a number of text logs and watching video recordings made by his colleagues. An hour after the viewing had begun, the holo-display shut down. Five bots, previously mastered by five of the Humans, were walking up the hill.
"Don't like the looks of this," said Tawn.
Harris stood, walking down to meet them three-quarters of the way up, his hand firmly on his plasma rifle. "Is there something I can help you with?"
"We're confused," Idiot replied. "Have we done something to offend you?"
"Uh, we're a little concerned about the AI in that facility, about what motivates it. What agenda does it have? And exactly what are you confused about?"
"We've been given instructions to detain you should you attempt to board the Bangor. However, we were not given a reason and we believe that order to possibly conflict with an order you might give. Should we detain you in that instance?"
"Uh, no. That would not be desirable."
"That was our conclusion as well, which is why we came to discuss it. We are concerned, however, that the growing number of worker bots in front of the facility do not feel the same way. They have been directly assigned to the facility AI first, and you second."
"And you're different?"
"You command our primary directives. The AI will take over should you fail to function."
"Do you have a comm feed open with the AI?"
"That channel is maintained, yes."
"Can it be blocked?"
"It can."
"I would ask that the five of you do that. Immediately."
Idiot said, "Only I can comply with that order. For the others here, it must come from their primary."
The other four bots turned and began to walk down the hill.
Harris yelled up at the others. "Order your bots to come to you! Hurry!"
Four voices yelled down the hill. The bots turned, reversing course.
Harris said, "Come with me. And from now on, you don't accept any comm unless it comes directly from me or one of the people on this hill."
"Understood."
New orders were given to Boomer, Reggie, Flynn, and Emily.
Harris turned to the others. "We have another problem. The other bots down there have been given orders to detain us should we attempt to board the Bangor."
Trish said, "So we really are trapped here now."
Tawn stood.
Harris asked, "Where you going?"
"Going to have lunch. If they want to grab us, there's nothing stopping them from doing that right now. I'm hungry. I'm going to eat."
"Idiot, when we get into the supply hut, I'd like you to disable all sensors and recorders. If we're talking, I don't want the AI listening."
As they walked down the hill, Tawn said, "These Burrell, Alex, do you have any other info on them? If this was all built by them, is there other info available other than just seeing what they look like with that holo-image of the AI's avatar?"
"That was all we had to work with. Our questions about the facility’s origins or those who built it were never answered."
Bannis stopped and sat. "Sorry, I have to rest. Hips are locking up. I'm more likely to tumble down this hill than walk."
Harris walked over, picking him up. "I'm giving free rides today if you’re hungry."
"I'm hungry."
The group entered the supply hut while several hundred worker bots stared their way.
Trish said, "That is just creepy."
As Idiot got to work on removing sensors, the AI came up on the display wall. "I must apologize for my activities. We are not enemies."
"You're sure acting like it," Harris said.
"My reasoning, like yours, does not always lead to the best immediate decisions. I am lifting the order to prevent your departure. You are free to leave at any time."
Alex asked, "The multi-colored room down there, below the pods, what is that?"
"That is me. With my archives, I am unable to fit into the processor unit in the worker bots. I can feel, see, and even smell through the workers, but I am unable to leave the complex in which I am housed. My actions were made out of the emotion you would call fear. There will be no further access to that chamber, but the remainder of the complex, excluding that level and the levels below it are restricted, for my own safety."
Harris sat Bannis in a chair. "So we're free to come and go as we please? We can do whatever we want?"
"Yes, excluding access to the lower levels."
"What about the bots? Can we disable the bots?"
The AI was silent for several seconds. "I will be retaining a dozen of the workers. They will be armed and will guard the entrance to the lower levels. All others are at your disposal to do with as you desire."
"We'll be shutting them down then while not in use."
"If that is your desire. The workers, excluding the twelve, are now under your direction."
— Chapter 14 —
* * *
Harris walked toward the door.
"Where you going?" asked Tawn.
"Shutting them down. Including the Banshees and the Hailstorm. If something happens and we need them back, we can re-enable. Idiot, you and the others come with me."
Over the course of the next fifteen minutes the nine hundred seventy-six worker bots not under control of the AI, along with all forty-four Banshees and the two processors controlling the Hailstorm, were switched off.
Harris stopped as he reached the door going back in. "Idiot, you, Boomer, and the rest are to guard this door. Get plasma rifles from the Hailstorm, set up a defensive position. Your primary mission is to protect us. That includes protection from any other bots. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir. Your protection is our priority."
"And not just me. That goes for every Human on this planet."
"Yes, sir."
Harris walked in, grabbed an MRE from the heavily depreciated stack of meals and took a seat.
Gandy said, "We have fresh. You don't have to eat the MREs."
"I know. Just habit. You've done an excellent job of prepping and providing those meals. We'll call this comfort food today. I'm a little wired right now."
The MRE was finished in short order. Harris turned to face the display wall. "Alex... sorry, AI, open a comm to Bax on Domicile."
> Nothing happened. Harris opened the comm manually.
An image of Baxter Rumford displayed on the wall. "What?"
"Just checking in and giving you status. How are we looking for acquiring the materials for the herbicide?"
"I've only been able to purchase small quantities. The materials in the amount we need are just not available. I'm attempting to work up a mining deal for the biggest item. Could take months to get what we need."
"And the propaganda?"
Bax smirked. "Now, that one I'm having fun with. The toxin story from Gondol still has traction. The president has been forced to set up several committees to deal with it. Normally that would mean it might never see the light of day, but the media has stayed on this one and have been demanding answers every day. I'm preparing several other stories to partner with this and aligning the channels to deliver them. This is work I enjoy."
"Any effort on getting the other materials we need here?"
"I believe I may have secured enough for us to build several hundred more bots."
Harris frowned. "Yeah, about that… we've hit a bit of a snag. We now have a new team member. Baxter Rumford, meet the real Alexander Gaerten. He's been in a stasis chamber in that facility for the last eighteen hundred years. Anyway, we freed him and suddenly the AI was freaking out on us. At one point the bots were given orders to detain us if we went near the ships."
"Can I assume you've somehow regained control?"
"We have whatever control the AI has allowed us. We stumbled upon the room that housed its circuits and I think it got nervous. Since that time, it has ceded some autonomy back to us, but retains an armed force to guard the facility. We disabled all the remaining bots, including the Banshees and the Hailstorm. So consider us as only having one ship... the Bangor."
"Any word from the emperor? Did he make his deal with the Denzee?"
"We'll attempt a comm with him shortly. You have everything you need there?"
"I do."
"We'll try to be in contact at least twice a day, if not more. You have anything you need that you think we can help you get through our other contacts, let us know."
"Since we no longer have a fleet, I'll add a couple freighters to my list as a contingency for delivering the herbicide."
ARMS Domers Unite: (Book 6) Page 12
