So Phan closed her fingers around the grip of her submachine gun and let her head rest on the door behind her. Sleep swept in and was just about to pull her down when a soft breeze touched her face. With it came a strange yet familiar scent. Strange, because it was foreign to that environment, yet familiar, because Norr wore that particular perfume every day!
The assassin rolled right, moonlight gleamed off the razor-sharp blade as it passed through the area just vacated, and the automatic weapon stuttered as Phan fired a quick burst. Not because it would hit Norr, but to intimidate the sensitive and prevent a follow-up. But that was a mistake, since the muzzle flash left afterimages dancing in front of the assassin’s eyes, just when she needed her night vision the most. Where were the robots, Phan wondered? And why hadn’t the machines given some sort of warning? But there was no time for further thought as the norm heard three soft footsteps and felt cold steel caress her right cheek.
The cut burned as Phan rolled again, slammed into a wall, and bounced to her feet. The stairs made for uncertain footing, but the norm soon regained her balance and was back in the fight. Having lost the advantage of surprise and missed her target twice, Norr felt a surge of fear as Phan activated the torch. The light pinned the sensitive to the stairs, feet planted, sword ready to strike.
The assassin saw the fear in Norr’s eyes, paused to savor it, and felt something nudge her chest. Once, twice, then three times as an energy weapon winked at her from the jungle. Rebo! How could I have forgotten Rebo? Phan wondered. But the question went unanswered as what looked like a thick gray fog rolled in to engulf her—and the first of more than a hundred of Phan’s victims arrived to greet the assassin.
Having holstered his weapon, Rebo emerged from the bush carrying both packs and Norr’s shotgun. “Here you go,” the runner said lightly. “And the next time you call for help—speak a little louder.”
Norr was about to reply when Sogol interrupted. As before, the AI had wrapped herself around the sensitive’s arm. “Tepho’s party ran into trouble! We still have time! Let’s go!”
Rebo wanted to ask, What kind of trouble? but was left to follow as Norr mounted the steps, took hold of the massive door handle, and pulled the slab of metal open. Hinges squealed as the rich odor of decay pushed out to greet the newcomers. Then, as the sensitive moved forward, she nearly tripped over a pile of bones. It was impossible to tell if the remains were human, but their very presence was cause for concern since the gate was supposed to be sealed against all intruders.
“Look at this,” Rebo said, as he sent the light from Phan’s torch down the tunnel in front of them.
That was when Norr saw that vines, some as thick as her wrist, had forced their way down through the ceiling and into the passageway. But why? Unless . . .
Having sensed their presence, a motion detector activated a long series of glow panels, some of which remained dark. Here was the light the creepers would need—but what would trigger the motion detector? And do so with sufficient regularity?
The answer became apparent as something dropped out of an overhead vent, landed on Rebo’s right shoulder, and went for the runner’s jugular. The norm felt needle-sharp teeth penetrate his skin and made an ineffectual grab for the creature. But it was Norr who got a grip on the attacker’s pointy tail, jerked the reptilian beast free, and smashed it against the nearest wall.
Whatever it was fell, jerked spasmodically, and produced a tendril of black smoke. “It’s some sort of machine!” Norr exclaimed, her shotgun at the ready.
“Not ‘some sort,’ ” Sogol put in. “The guardian in question is a Porto Industries 8812-B specially enhanced mechanimal. Back when Socket was first commissioned, thousands of security robots were introduced to the satellite’s crawl spaces and air ducts.”
“Then why did it attack you?” Rebo wanted to know.
“It didn’t attack me,” Sogol replied tartly. “It attacked you. Which would explain why Tepho and his party are having so much trouble. Come on . . . let’s make the jump!”
“Oh, goody,” Rebo said, and he followed the other two down the corridor. “That should be fun.”
Norr felt as if she was going to throw up as the radiation produced by the power core grew even stronger. Because the mechanimals were machines, they lacked auras, which meant the sensitive was just as vulnerable as Rebo was. But the shotgun imbued the variant with a sense of confidence and seemed to fire itself when a sleek body launched itself off a ledge, only to disintegrate in midair. The rotary magazine made a clacking sound as the next shell was advanced.
“Nice shooting,” the runner said approvingly, as they entered what had once been a standard decontamination chamber but had long since been converted into what looked like a hothouse for exotic plants. The invaders lined both sides of the chamber, and judging from the bits of bone that stuck up out of the dirt, had originally been sustained by a corpse. Perhaps a wing, who, curious as to what might lie behind the outer door, had been so foolish as to venture inside.
Some of the plants glowed as if lit from within, some turned to track Norr’s progress, and one of them sent a stream of fluid squirting into the air. It fell short of the sensitive, but made a sizzling sound as it hit, and left another burn mark on the filthy floor. Rebo gave the plants a wide berth, heard something move over his head, and fired three energy bolts into the ceiling. The noise stopped.
The star gate itself was no better. The actual platform had been cleared of debris, but all sorts of vegetation had grown in and around it, and Sogol didn’t like the looks of what she saw. “I think other life-forms may have passed through long before Tepho and his party arrived,” the AI warned. “Socket has been contaminated.”
“Terrific,” Rebo said sarcastically. “Just what I wanted to hear.”
Norr pushed the only button there was to push, but it wouldn’t budge. But then, as she stepped out onto the transfer platform, the now-familiar female voice started into its usual spiel. That meant anything could have passed through the gate over the years. The sensitive held the shotgun with one hand and extended the other to Rebo. “Come on, hon,” Norr said, “we’re almost there.”
It was the first and only time that Norr had ever called Rebo “hon,” and there was something about the way it felt that caused Rebo to step out onto the platform and take her hand. The recording was followed by a flash of light and a long fall into nothingness.
FIFTEEN
Aboard Socket
Those individuals who choose to use the Elior Industries IS472-B hyperspace transporter do so at their own risk, and by using said transporter agree not to hold Elior Industries or any of its subsidiary companies liable for incomplete transfers, traumatic injuries, radiation-induced illnesses, psychotic episodes, or death.
—Standard disclaimer engraved into durasteel plaques welded to each transport platform
Rebo absorbed the shock with his knees, nearly fell, but managed to keep his balance. Norr arrived on the platform a fraction of a second later, went facedown, but broke the fall with her hands. “Uh-oh,” the sensitive said as she came to her feet. “Look at that!”
Rebo looked and didn’t like what he saw. The body that lay sprawled in front of the blood-splashed platform had a machete clutched in its right hand. The corpse looked as though something, or a number of somethings, had been gnawing on it. “The guardians killed him,” Sogol remarked. “Be careful, there are more of them.”
“Words to live by,” the runner said grimly, as he eyed the dismembered mechanimals that lay scattered about.
“This guy’s dressed like a fisherman,” Norr remarked, as she bent over the body.
“How much would you like to bet that Tepho sent him through first?” Rebo inquired cynically. “Just to see what would happen.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised,” the sensitive agreed. “Look! There are some dead mechanimals over by the hatch . . . except they have bullet holes in them.”
“Which suggests that Tepho and his cr
owd shot them,” the runner concluded.
“I’m picking up some jumbled radio traffic,” Sogol announced. “The technos are one level up. They’re battling a group of enforcers.”
“Enforcers?” Rebo asked. “How are they different from guardians?”
“They’re larger, more heavily armed, and they can fly,” the AI responded simply.
“I should have known,” the runner commented darkly.
“Can you turn them off?” Norr inquired hopefully.
“Yes,” Sogol responded. “But only if I control Socket . . . so let’s go.”
As Rebo and Norr stepped over the bodies heaped around the hatch, it was clear that the robots had been cut down as they attempted to enter the compartment. Reinforcements perhaps? Summoned after the fisherman had been killed? Yes, the runner thought that was likely. But, unfortunately for the robots, it looked as though they had arrived after the main party materialized on the platform.
Now, as Rebo entered the corridor, he found himself in an environment that was reminiscent of the great starships. Med kits, fire extinguishers, and emergency pressure suits could be found at regular intervals along the metal bulkhead, along with directional signs that pointed toward destinations like MAINTENANCE, PERSONNEL, and MEDICAL. But unlike all of the starships that Rebo had been aboard, Socket had yet to be looted, and there was no graffiti to be seen. “Take the next left,” Sogol ordered. “That hallway leads to the lift.”
Rebo approached the intersection with care, paused to peek around the corner, and was glad that he had. Judging from the bullet-scarred bulkheads, and the burn marks that crisscrossed the decks, Tepho and his party had been attacked as they transited the hall. But based on heaps of dead mechanimals that littered the floor, it was clear that the technos had been able to successfully defend themselves. Except for a hapless metal man, that is, who lay with his arms outflung, sensors staring sightlessly at the overhead. It appeared that the mechanimals had been able to open the robot’s belly, because the android’s electronic entrails lay splayed across his waist, where many of the fiber-optic cables had been severed.
Norr “felt” a life force behind her, whirled, and fired. The shotgun went boom, clack, boom, clack, as a dozen of the chittering guardians rushed her. Green animatronic fluid splattered the bulkheads as the first wave of mechanimals came apart. But farther down the hall, beyond the scope of the present battle, more lithe bodies were spilling out of ducts, chittering madly as their claws fought for purchase on the metal deck, each robot communicating with all the rest by radio.
Having spotted the oncoming wave, Rebo readied one of the energy grenades that the phibs had given him, thumbed the fuse, and tossed the weapon down the corridor. The bomb bounced once, went off with a silent flash, and blew at least fifteen mechanimals to smithereens.
In the meantime Norr pulled the trigger again, heard nothing more than a metallic click, and grabbed for the power pistol. There was no recoil as the bolts of blue energy struck the remaining robots and reduced most to little more than badly burned carcasses. But even though the rear portion of its body was missing, the front half of a guardian continued to drag itself toward the sensitive, its jaws snapping at empty air. Another energy bolt put the beast down for good, but the experience left Norr shaken, and the sensitive’s hands trembled slightly as she reloaded her weapons. “Good job,” Rebo said reassuringly, as he administered the coup de grace to a twitching robot. “Come on . . . Let’s get down that next stretch of hallway before the little bastards can regroup.”
Norr followed the runner as he turned the corner, glanced at a hatch marked EMERGENCY ACCESS LADDER, and made his way past the same metal man he’d seen before. Meanwhile, having been attacked from behind once, the sensitive didn’t want the same thing to happen again, and was walking backward when she passed the robot. That’s why the variant didn’t realize the android was still alive until steely fingers wrapped themselves around her ankle. There was a single boom-clack combination as Norr blew the robot’s head off.
Rebo whirled, ready to fight, but concluded that Norr was getting jumpy, and turned back again. The runner arrived at the end of the corridor, followed the MAIN LIFT sign to the right, and spotted the door ahead. A few seconds later he was standing in front of the polished metal door pushing on the UP button. Once the indicator light appeared, Rebo started to back away, and motioned for Norr to do likewise.
And it was a good thing, too, because when the lift chimed and doors parted, a Porto Industries 8813-B Enforcer opened fire on them. The sphere-shaped machine floated two feet off the deck and was armed with an energy cannon. A cluster of three energy bolts passed between the humans as they opened fire. Even though Rebo scored three hits with the energy rifle, and Norr blasted the robot with her shotgun, the machine remained unaffected. That was when the robot swiveled toward Rebo, and Norr stepped into the gap between them. There was a loud clatter as the shotgun hit the floor. Rebo shouted, “No!” and the sensitive went for her sword.
But, rather than blowing Norr in half, the enforcer moved as if to bypass the female. That was when the runner remembered what Sogol had said earlier—and realized that the construct couldn’t attack the sensitive so long as the AI was wrapped around her arm. Come to think of it, the guardians they had encountered earlier had probably been after him.
There was a metallic flash as the sliver of steel fell, followed by a loud ka-ching, as the supersharp blade sliced down through the robot’s armor casing to lodge itself somewhere inside. The sensitive tried to free her weapon, discovered it was locked in place, and was forced to place a foot on the enforcer’s casing in order to pry the sword free.
Then, just as Norr was about to take another cut at the robot, sparks spurted out of the gash in its casing. The machine shuddered, hit the deck with a thud, and rolled for two feet before coming to a stop next to a bulkhead. The sensitive returned the sword to its sheath, bent to retrieve her shotgun, and broke the weapon open. “Damn,” the runner said fervently, as he watched his companion pluck empties from the weapon’s rotary cylinder. “That was close! You scared the hell out of me.”
“I was never in any danger,” the variant replied smugly.
“Yeah? Well, you soon will be,” Rebo replied darkly. “Tepho and his people would be more than happy to shoot you.”
“They are entering nexus!” Sogol hissed urgently. “Hurry!”
The humans entered the lift, the runner touched the button that said, LEVEL THREE, and felt the car jerk into motion. “Why three?” Norr wanted to know. “Nexus is on two.”
“Which means they’ll be waiting for us on two,” the runner predicted. “By going up to three and going down the emergency access ladder to level two, we might be able to surprise them.”
The elevator stopped, the doors parted, and the runner eyed the corridor. It was blessedly empty, for which Rebo gave thanks as he jogged down the hall to the point where the vertical emergency access ladder sign had been stenciled onto the bulkhead. He opened the hatch, heard a gentle hiss as pressures were equalized, and entered what amounted to a vertical tunnel. “I’ll go first,” the runner announced, as he positioned himself on the ladder. “And remember, we don’t have friends down there, so shoot anything that moves.”
Then Rebo was gone, his boots sliding along the outside surface of the rails, the energy rifle hanging across his chest. The runner braked when he saw the numeral 2 appear, transferred his weight to a small platform, and was already turning toward the hatch when Norr began her descent.
Cognizant of the fact that the hall was probably occupied, Rebo opened the hatch, tossed a grenade through the gap, and pulled the door closed again. There was a muffled scream, followed by the dull rattle of automatic fire and a series of unintelligible shouts.
That was Rebo’s cue to toss a second energy bomb into the corridor. He pulled the door closed, counted to four, and pushed his way out into the hall. The badly pulped remains of at least three bodies were scattered ab
out, and two humans plus a metal man were crouched not thirty feet up the corridor. Judging from the way some of the norms held their weapons, they weren’t too familiar with them. A couple of Tepho’s attendants perhaps? There was no way to know. But when they fired, the runner fired back, and it was his bullets that struck home. The robot went down first, quickly followed by both humans, one of whom took a burst of bolts from behind.
That surprised the runner until he saw something shimmery was standing farther down the hall, weapon in hands, firing through his own men. And that was the last thing Rebo saw as Shaz shouted an order, the lights went out, and the combat variant made his way forward.
Norr had cleared the hatch by then, and even though the corridor was nearly pitch-black, the sensitive “saw” the man-shaped blob of color coming her way. The shotgun roared, the aura staggered, and the variant felt a moment of elation. But that was when the target recovered, changed course as if to avoid a potential follow-up shot, and continued to advance. Some sort of armor perhaps? Yes, the sensitive thought so, and suspected that the oncoming combatant could see her as well.
Everything appeared green through the night-vision goggles, but both of his opponents were clear to see as Shaz pulled the trigger. That was when the variant felt something cold slither up his right leg and make straight for his genitals. Shaz couldn’t resist the urge to stop and attempt to grab whatever the thing was.
And it was then, as Shaz paused to deal with Sogol, that Norr removed her opponent’s head. The combat variant felt something tug at his neck, “saw” his head bounce off the floor, and knew the rest of his body was in the process of falling. And that was when the man once known as Hoggles appeared in front of him. His form was different now, but powerful nonetheless, and there was nothing friendly about his smile. “Welcome to the spirit world, friend. . . . It turns out that there are worse things than dying . . . as you are about to find out.”
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