by Isaac Hooke
“Technically, you didn’t tell us to stay behind,” Eric said.
He positioned himself underneath the transport, and crawled toward the rotor. “Frogger, any ideas on how we can repair a motor that has burned out?”
“Other than replacing it entirely?” Frogger asked over the comm. “Nope. These particular models have their components fully integrated. You can’t just open them up and change a capacitor or fuse or something. Ordinarily, the devices are completely replaced.”
“Damn,” Eric said. “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. Admiral, decrease speed. I want you to come alongside us, if possible.”
“I’ll do what I can,” the admiral said. “But I can only come within seven hundred and fifty meters of the wormhole. Any closer than that and we’re past the point of no return. No matter how much thrust I provide, we’ll be sucked, inexorably, into the wormhole.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Eric said. He made a quick calculation. “Better hurry it up.”
The second octo approached, a bit more rapidly than Eric was expecting.
Unfortunately, it stopped when it was about ten meters away. Not enough to jump, let alone jet across, given the current suction.
“I’m sorry,” the admiral said. “I’m almost at the point of no return. My engines are firing at maximum output just to maintain this position.”
26
Eric wracked his brain. “There has to be a way to get off this aircraft. We’re so close!”
As the octo began to recede once more, Frogger appeared at the bottom of the second craft’s ramp. From the jerky way he moved, Eric knew he was applying his magnetic mounts as he went. When he reached the bottom, Frogger lowered himself to the edge of the ramp, and wrapped his steel and polycarbonate fingers around the surface, pressing in until he bent the surface inward, and then allowed his body to extend outward, pulled by the wormhole, so that the soles of his feet were pointed directly at Eric.
Dickson came down the ramp next, and then crawled over Frogger; when he reached the leg area, he grabbed onto Frogger’s ankles and similarly allowed the rest of his body to be pulled toward the wormhole—and Eric’s octo.
“They’re forming a bridge!” Eric said. “Team, to the front of the quadcopter! Marlborough, climb out here!”
Eric made his way to the front of the quadcopter, using his magnets liberally. When he was at the very front, he lifted his feet over the edge, and then magnetized the soles, attaching them at an angle. Then he flexed his legs, bending his body forward, until he was standing with his head pointed toward the Cicada bridge forming from the other octo. His servomotors whirred in protest as they struggled to counter gravity, plus the pull behind him, and he managed to maintain his posture, staying stiff as a board.
Brontosaurus crawled over him, followed by Crusher, and Bambi, and finally Marlborough. The five of them formed a long line, with arms extended, and hands wrapped around ankles.
The Savages and Breaches joined in, lengthening the bridge from the second octo until Marlborough wrapped his arms around the ankles of the final Savage.
Eric felt the tension suddenly increase as the second octo began to drag the first, which was still being pulled by the wormhole behind them.
“Let go!” Marlborough said.
Eric released the magnetic mounts, and the tension abruptly ceded. The original octo floated away behind him.
“Your added weight almost pulled us past the point of no return,” the admiral said over the comm. “You released that copter just in time. As it is, we’ll be stuck in this position until we reduce the size of the wormhole. You might as well clamber aboard. If you can.”
Eric made his way hand over hand across the bridge of Cicadas and support robots. He used hips, shoulders, and heads as footholds and handholds. It was kind of handy that most of the robots only had a thin tube for an abdomen, because it made it easy to find purchase on the hips.
“Gah, you’re a heavy bitch,” Slate said as he passed him.
When Eric reached the octo, he pulled himself onto the ramp and waited there to help the others aboard.
“If there’s one thing to be said about you Mind Refurbs, it’s that you’re certainly resourceful,” the admiral commented over the comm.
The robot bridge continued to roll up like that, with those at the rearmost crawling over those in front of them, until everyone was back inside.
Eric scaled the ramp—the pull was slightly worse here, since they were closer to the wormhole—but he made it back inside the cabin without issue. He retrieved the energy cannon from the floor by deactivating the magnets, and reattached it to his shoulder.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” Marlborough said. “Risked your lives like that. One man’s life isn’t worth the lives of an entire platoon. Nor the world.”
“We weren’t putting the world at risk,” Tread said. “Just the platoon. The admiral was ready to jettison the ramp.”
“Is that right, Admiral?” Marlborough asked over the comm.
“Unfortunately, yes,” Admiral Grass replied.
“Okay, well, here’s why you’re still risking the world by what you’ve done,” Marlborough said. “Because of you, we’ve retreated to the very limits of our propulsion systems. Our engines are working at maximum capacity. We can’t afford to lose another rotor. If we do, we’ll have to disperse the wormhole. And once we do that, the swarm, currently held at bay by the forces of that gravity well, will come crashing down on us. Once we’ve been converted, the storm will continue on its way, temporarily reduced in size. Once it reaches the West Coast, the termites will remedy that problem, expanding outward across the continent to continue their deadly rampage. The rest of the world will be destroyed, and any humans in the paths of the micro machines will be reduced to bioweapon food while still alive. So my statement stands: you risked not just your lives, but the entire world to save me. Not good.”
“Well, you did say you wanted to live forever,” Slate commented, trying to lighten the mood.
“Yes, but not anymore,” Marlborough said. “Not now that I know the full cost.”
“And what cost is that?” Eric asked.
“I was going to say my humanity,” Marlborough answered. “But I realize now that I’m more human than ever before. We all are. The very fact that you attempted the rescue you did, and succeeded, tells me everything I need to know. You’re a hell of a platoon. I owe you everything. As will the world, when this is done. Assuming we can actually finish this. If we lose a rotor…”
“If we lose a rotor, there’s still another option,” the admiral said. “We can start shedding weight.”
“Shedding weight?” Eagleeye said.
“That’s right,” the admiral said.
“He means us,” Frogger said.
Marlborough nodded gravely.
Eric fired the latest dispersion salvo at the wormhole to keep the size in check.
Another tense hour passed; tense, because the team hoped and prayed that no further rotors would fail.
But then finally, at the hour and a half mark since switching octos, another rotor failed, and the craft began its inexorable retreat toward the wormhole.
“Strip away the walls!” Eric said. “We have to get rid of as much metal as possible.”
They moved to and fro via their magnetic mounts, tearing apart the inside of the octo and tossing the pieces out the entrance. The raging wind outside readily picked it up, and sucked it into the waiting plateau of water. The admiral jettisoned the ramp, and it too flew way.
But none of that really helped. The octo was still being sucked toward the wormhole.
“We’re going to have to start dumping robotic units,” the admiral said.
“The Savages and Breachers go first,” Marlborough said.
“Wait, it won’t be enough,” Tread said. “I’ve done a quick calculation. We’ll have to get rid of almost all of us. Even if we dump the Ravagers. Only three Cicadas can remain behi
nd.”
“All right then, so how are we going to decide who gets to stay?” Slate said. “Scorpion, you’re already a dead man, since you’re in a Ravager. But the rest of us—”
“No!” Bambi said. “Not Eric. I mean Scorpion.”
“I’ll go with him,” Crusher said, coming to Eric’s side.
“Me, too, then,” Bambi said, joining them.
“I’ll do it, too,” Brontosaurus said.
“I volunteer as well,” Marlborough said.
“No,” Eric said. “No one has to go. You guys aren’t thinking this through. All we have to do is remove our AI cores, and then dump the machine bodies.”
“Good point!” Marlborough said. “People, start on the Breachers, Savages, and Ravagers. Then switch to the Cicadas!”
Eric removed the containment rig from Massacre’s back, and mounted it to the deck near the cockpit. He transferred the wormhole cannon from Slaughter’s shoulder to the cabin floor beside it. Then he removed the AI cores from Massacre and Slaughter. He used magnetic mounts to attach the cores to the deck, then he hurled the mechs out the entrance.
Meanwhile, the rest of the team had secured the AI cores from the Savages and Breachers, and tossed the composite bodies outside. Then the different Bolt Eaters began removing the AI cores from the neighboring Cicadas. Very delicately.
Eric helped with that process… because of his size and strength, he could move faster than the others, and secured the cores of Crusher, Brontosaurus, and Frogger, magnetically mounting them to the deck in turn, and tossing their bodies.
When he knelt to remove Bambi’s core, she said: “I don’t want to die.”
“I won’t let you,” Eric told her.
She looked at his face, directly into his cameras, and nodded. Then the blue dots of her eyes went out as she turned herself offline.
Eric removed her core, mounted it to the deck, and tossed the body outside.
By then, only Marlborough, Slate, Eagleeye, and Eric remained online.
“How are we doing?” Marlborough asked the admiral.
“Our retreat has slowed by half, but it’s still not enough,” Admiral Grass said. “In about twenty minutes, we’re going to reach that wormhole.”
“All right, I guess I’m next,” Eric said. “I’m transferring control of the alien weapons over to you.”
Eric was about to shut himself down so that Marlborough or Slate could remove his AI core, but then Eagleeye raised a hand.
“Wait,” Eagleeye said. “You might not have to do this. Look at the external cams.”
Eric accessed the external feed. The horseshoe of micro machines that blotted out the sky on three sides around the octocopter had begun to clear, and the overcast sky could be seen beyond.
Eric dismissed the camera, and walked to the open entrance at the rear of the craft. He watched as the remnants of the micromachines were sucked into the wormhole. Only long black tendrils were left, spiraling into the sky, and these, too, faded entirely, leaving only that incessant wind caused by the suction. And the plateau of swirling water at its base.
Eric unmounted the wormhole cannon from the cabin floor, and hefted it toward the entrance. Because of its size and dimensions, if felt as if he were carrying one of the large miniguns from a helo in his arms or something.
He waited there as the craft slowly receded.
“Don’t fire yet,” Marlborough said. “Let’s make sure that any final laggards are destroyed.”
Eric nodded. “I intend to wait until the last possible second.”
The pull became greater, the closer they came to the tear in reality, and the craft approached it faster with each moment.
Another rotor burned out, and they spiraled toward the wormhole faster than ever.
“Now, Scorpion!” Marlborough said.
But Eric was already firing dispersion bolts repeatedly.
The wormhole shrunk with each shot, eventually becoming bowling ball sized, then the diameter of a thumbnail. The plateau of water receded along with it, shrinking to a hump on the surface, and joining with the sea as the tear in reality winked out entirely. The suction, and the wind, faded along with it, so that only the quiet sea remained, and the empty sky above.
“Well then, would you look at that,” Slate said. “We gone and saved the world.”
“Half the world,” Eagleeye clarified.
“Leave it to ol’ Bug Eye to put a negative spin on everything,” Slate said.
“Congratulations,” Admiral Grass said, glancing over his shoulder from the cockpit. “I didn’t think we’d actually be able to pull this off. I was wrong. I owe you all a beer when we get back. Er, a virtual one, of course.”
“We’ll take all the virtual beers and women you can throw our way, trust me,” Slate said.
The admiral held a finger to his ear and his face dropped. “Central command just reported in. Got some good news, and some bad news.”
“Let’s have the good news first,” Marlborough said.
“Centcom is no longer detecting the high frequency photons the micro machines used to communicate,” the admiral said. “At least not above the Pacific. Essentially confirming that we’ve destroyed the storm that was headed toward the coasts of North, Central, and South America. There are probably still some roving swarms in the Middle and Far East we’ll have to deal with, but for now the major threat has been contained.”
“Okay then,” Marlborough said. “The bad news?”
“Wait, I thought the comment about the roving swarms of termites was the bad news?” Slate said.
“I’m afraid not,” Admiral Grass told him. “The bad news is this: apparently, the alien mothership has poked its ugly head out from behind the moon once again. They’re on the move.”
“On the move?” Marlborough said.
“Tell me they’re fleeing into deep space?” Slate said.
“I wish I could,” the admiral said.
“Then where are they headed?” Slate pressed.
“You know the answer already,” the admiral said.
Slate’s LED features became grim. “They’re heading toward Earth.”
To be continued...
I don’t like leaving readers hanging, which is why I’ve decided to publish all three full length novels in the trilogy at the same time. That’s right, book three is available now (or will be shortly). Find out what happens next without having to wait.
Continue the adventures in Rebooted (AI Reborn Trilogy Book 3)
Afterword
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About the Author
USA Today bestselling author Isaac Hooke holds a degree in engineering physics, though his more unusual inventions remain fictive at this time. He is an avid hiker, cyclist, and photographer who sometimes resides in Edmonton, Alberta.
Get in touch:
isaachooke.com
[email protected]
Acknowledgments
I’d also like to thank my knowledgeable beta readers and advanced reviewers who helped smooth out the rough edges of the prerelease manuscript: Nicole P., Karen J, Jeremy G., Doug B., Jenny O., Amy B., Bryan O., Lezza, Noel, Anton, Spencer, Norman, Trudi, Corey, Erol, Terje, David, Charles, Walter, Lisa, Ramon, Chris, Scott, Michael, Chris, Bob, Jim, Maureen, Zane, Chuck, Shayne, Anna, Dave, Roger, Nick, Gerry, Charles, Annie, Patrick, Mike, Jeff, Lisa, Jason, Bryant, Janna, Tom, Jerry, Chris, Jim, Brandon, Kathy, Norm, Jonathan, Derek, Shawn, Judi, Eric, Rick, Bryan, Barry, Sherman, Jim, Bob, Ralph, Darren, Michael, Chris, Michael, Julie, Glenn, Rickie, Rhonda, Neil, Claude, Ski, Joe, Paul, Larry, John, Norma, Jeff, David, Brennan, Phyllis, Robert, Darren, Daniel, Montzalee, Robert, Dave, Diane, Peter, Skip, Louise, Dave, Brent, Erin, Paul, Jeremy, Dan
, Garland, Sharon, Dave, Pat, Nathan, Max, Martin, Greg, David, Myles, Nancy, Ed, David, Karen, Becky, Jacob, Ben, Don, Carl, Gene, Bob, Luke, Teri, Robine, Gerald, Lee, Rich, Ken, Daniel, Chris, Al, Andy, Tim, Robert, Fred, David, Mitch, Don, Tony, Dian, Tony, John, Sandy, James, David, Pat, Gary, Jean, Bryan, William, Roy, Dave, Vincent, Tim, Richard, Kevin, George, Andrew, John, Richard, Robin, Sue, Mark, Jerry, Rodger, Rob, Byron, Ty, Mike, Gerry, Steve, Benjamin, Anna, Keith, Jeff, Josh, Herb, Bev, Simon, John, David, Greg, Larry, Timothy, Tony, Ian, Niraj, Maureen, Jim, Len, Bryan, Todd, Maria, Angela, Gerhard, Renee, Pete, Hemantkumar, Tim, Joseph, Will, David, Suzanne, Steve, Derek, Valerie, Laurence, James, Andy, Mark, Tarzy, Christina, Rick, Mike, Paula, Tim, Jim, Gal, Anthony, Ron, Dietrich, Mindy, Ben, Steve, Allen, Paddy & Penny, Troy, Marti, Herb, Jim, David, Alan, Leslie, Chuck, Dan, Perry, Chris, Rich, Rod, Trevor, Rick, Michael, Tim, Mark, Alex, John, William, Doug, Tony, David, Sam, Derek, John, Jay, Tom, Bryant, Larry, Anjanette, Gary, Travis, Jennifer, Henry, Drew, Michelle, Bob, Gregg, Billy, Jack, Lance, Sandra, Libby, Jonathan, Karl, Bruce, Clay, Gary, Sarge, Andrew, Deborah, Steve, and Curtis.
Without you all, this novel would have typos, continuity errors, and excessive lapses in realism. Thank you for helping me make this the best novel possible, and thank you for leaving the early reviews that help new readers find my books.
And of course I’d be remiss if I didn't thank my mother, father, and brothers, whose wisdom and insights have always guided me through the dark paths at the edge of the world.
— Isaac Hooke
Continue the adventures in Rebooted (AI Reborn Trilogy Book 3)
