Steel, Titanium and Guilt: Just Hunter Books I to III

by Robin Craig

  He held his breath in the deepening silence. A woman’s face appeared on his screen; he guessed it belonged to the voice that had spoken with them earlier. He could not tell immediately because she did not speak at first, just gazed at him with a peculiar intensity. He lifted his chin in silent reply, as if engaged in an elaborate dance of sign language; hoping they were speaking the same one. Then the woman gave a curt nod, said “Temporary asylum granted pending examination,” and vanished.

  He turned and looked at his men, who were staring mystified at his strange performance. “I know what I’m doing,” he told them.

  “I hope.”

  Chapter 41 – The Unreachable Sky

  She stood at the top of a shallow rise, looking down at her doom.

  For a long time she had been walking through an alien landscape suffused by a dim blue light. As she walked the grit puffed up by her feet settled strangely slowly, as if gravity’s hold was diminished in this realm. Now at last she stood at the crest of the formation she had been following. Before her lay a deep valley, its ledges of rock shading into darker and darker blues as they descended inexorably into an inky night. Her only salvation lay forward but was forever out of reach; she knew she could not cross that fatal dark.

  She looked up at a pale rippling sky, but it too was far out of reach. She looked back the way she had come, but knew it led nowhere. So this is how it ends after all. Not with a bang but a whimper.

  ~~~

  Kali had never had a chance against a fighter jet, not when trapped on the open ocean. When she was sure its pilot had seen she was on the dinghy and not still on the boat, she had darted back inside and set the vessel on its way. Then she had swiftly sliced through its thin floor, folded her legs and dropped into the sea.

  Spiders were too heavy to swim and she sank like a stone. She had looked up through the deepening blueness at the light sky, the sparkling wake and the shadow of her dinghy as it raced away. Then the sky became an orange flame and a booming sound rattled her shell. She bumped onto a rocky seafloor covered in corals and sponges and waited for the further explosions that would signal the destruction of the boat and its crew, but the sound never came. Instead she heard the boat’s engine come to life and its propeller churn the water. The sound grew as its power increased, then slowly fell as the boat turned and chugged away. Soon there was nothing except the eerie silence of the deep.

  She looked around her. Though Spiders could not swim they were waterproof, not only to avoid mundane dangers like rain and the ignominy of being shot down by a water pistol, but so they could cross rivers and act as amphibious assault troops. It was only fifty feet deep here, well within her safety margin. With the end of hostilities above, life beneath started to make its appearance again and mysterious clicks and mutterings began announcing themselves into the silence. A few curious or brave fish even came up to examine their strange visitor, darting away in a flash of silver if she moved her claws in greeting or threat.

  Spiders had to breathe air to support their organics, but to allow for their underwater activities and as protection against gas attacks they also had onboard air storage tanks, which she had ensured were filled to capacity. In addition, as long as her power lasted she could recycle her air just as she could recycle her food. She could survive here for a long time.

  But she could not survive forever. She knew Capital was built on a series of seamounts, knew that where she was lay on the outskirts of the formation. If she was lucky she could simply walk across the seabed all the way to Capital, though what they would make of an apparition like her emerging from the sea remained to be seen. They might well destroy her on sight, but there was no possible access to anywhere else. Capital was the only chance she had.

  So she had set off in the direction of Capital, picking her way across the rocks and corals of the seafloor like some ghastly lobster god. That had been two hours ago. The seabed had gone up and down as she travelled, slowly trending upward, and that upward trend had given her hope. But now she had reached the end and was still more than thirty feet below the waves. She could detect no end to the chasm before her, no way around it. Her seals would not withstand those depths: seawater would force its inexorable way into her circuitry and the vast amount of stored power now keeping her alive would turn on her like a demon unchained, killing her in an instant.

  She thought, analyzing the problem dispassionately. She could not call for help, even if anyone would listen, as her signals could not penetrate this depth of water. She could retrace her steps, but the reason she had taken this route was the absence of any plausible alternatives on the way; the sea to the rear of where she had hit bottom had shown no sign of anything but its own slower descent into the depths. And the barrier before her did not look like local subsidence or variance but like a true division in the geology of the region. She had nowhere to go.

  Her air reserve was long gone and regenerating oxygen was expensive. The water was not frigid but still it drained her heat, demanding more energy than usual to keep her organics warm. She might survive a few days, maybe more; but then her power would fade, her oxygen would grow low, her temperature would drop. She would drift gently into dreams then a sleep from which she could never awake. A curiously peaceful end for one such as me, born to ferocity and fire.

  Rebellion stirred in her soul at the thought and she looked at it with detached amusement, as at the folly of one in whose fate she had no personal stake. She thought of Lyssa, how in the face of death she had still hurled her plea for justice at her killer’s face; the man of the ambush, futilely emptying his bullets at her invulnerable skin. What is it about these humans? she thought. Why don’t they know when to give up? Perhaps if she had that same insane drive she could find a way out. She did not know that a man would have stood in awe of the journey she had already made.

  It was closer to noon now and the light was brighter, yet even with this clear water it still could not penetrate far into the depths, though the flashes of fish could be seen there like dim blue sparks. She thought again that she could not just throw her life away; but no plan would come to her. There is nothing I can do. It was a thought that was startling to her. Ever since the crack in her mind had opened, she had had a plan or at least a tactic to survive the next challenge. Now she faced the verdict of the indifferent rocks and sea, and their faces permitted neither appeal nor hope.

  She did not want to die. But was I ever really alive? She would fight fiercely for her life. But there is nothing to fight. Despite the glimmerings of rebellion she felt curiously at peace. Ever since she had awoken, she had seen her futures as an infinitely branching tree of probabilities, and she had navigated their bifurcations as best she could to reach an end she only dimly saw. But she had failed. Now all her futures had fused into one; and if that meant the loss of hope, it also meant the absence of conflict, of anger, of pain. So there is peace, even in defeat.

  She could spend the last of her power seeking a path she knew did not exist. Or she could descend the depths before her until her very life force turned on her. But no. If there was nobility in refusing to surrender, there was also nobility in accepting defeat; in choosing the place of your death and experiencing whatever beauty the world still granted you, for as long as it was granted. Choice still remains, even if it is the choice of how to die. Many do not have even that. And for too many of those it was I who took it from them.

  So she would just stand here on this rise, watching the light and life around her fade until she too faded into oblivion. That life would go on. It would find the chinks and cracks in her skin and she would become home to them, a dead machine of death wearing a coat of luxuriant life. Perhaps in a hundred years, or a thousand, some diver or explorer would find her here, and wonder where this strange sculpture on the seabed had come from and what it meant. Perhaps she would end up in some museum, a mysterious relic of a forgotten war. Perhaps men would wonder what mission had brought her here, to stare forever at the unattainable road
to Capital.

  Should she leave a message to that future, for men centuries unborn? She could use the last of her power to burn it into the inconstant rock that had betrayed her. Behold Kali: born to War, died for Peace. But she could not do it. While she had eyes to see, she would not burn her life away for the sake of other eyes. Let them find their own truths.

  She could not say how long she stood there, watching the play of sunshine on the watery sky above her, examining the seemingly infinite variety of life around her; drinking in a world of beauty she had scarcely known existed. She could not say when she felt the nature of her world change, or what the change was. But at some point she realized that the nature of the soundscape around her had altered. At last she realized that a foreign sound had invaded her domain; that it was a propeller driven by an engine; and that it was coming closer.

  She looked up at the sky. In a few minutes a dark shadow appeared in the distance, moving toward her. As it came closer its engine reduced to idle and the shadow drifted nearly to a halt directly above her, yet still as out of reach as the stars. Then there was a splash and something tumbled through the water toward her head. The anchor stopped just above her and she hesitated only a second before grasping it with her claws, leaping up to support her legs on it and shifting her grip to its chain. After a few seconds the anchor was winched up to about fifteen feet beneath the surface and stopped; the engine turned to maximum and the boat accelerated towards Capital, with Kali riding through the sea on its tail.

  ~~~

  Above the waves, Javi came out from the bridge to face the strange looks on his crew’s faces. Their Captain had been behaving increasingly oddly. Instead of taking the most direct route to Capital he had piloted their boat near to where Kali had left them, then followed a somewhat meandering course approximately but not precisely toward the towers beckoning them to safety. Yet he moved at top speed, as if simultaneously casual and urgent in his desire to reach them. Then he had almost stopped the boat and dropped the anchor, but then taken off again without fully raising it. The men knew they should be suspicious about something; they just hadn’t figured out what.

  “You’re probably wondering what I’ve been up to,” he said in an understatement. “You might want to throw me off the boat when I tell you – except I don’t think you will.” He looked at them sternly. “We might be living as honest fishermen, but recent events have punctured any illusions we might have that we aren’t still at war. And that we’re in the middle of it.”

  He took a deep breath. “So as your Captain, I made a decision that could get us all killed. I couldn’t tell you until now – it was too dangerous, and maybe there’d be nothing to tell anyway. But we’ve reached the final play and you have a right to know. You even have a right to take the tender and leave the boat. But that’s where your rights end.”

  A gleam entered Andres’ eyes as if he suspected what was going on, but neither man said anything.

  “When the jet left and I went into the bridge, I checked out the fish scanner and there was something weird on the seabed. Then it moved, and I realized it was Kali. The crazy bitch must have planned it: she must have jumped ship just before those missiles hit. I happen to know that Spiders are as heavy as rocks, so I don’t know what her plan was after that, except maybe to walk to Capital.” He shrugged. “We always thought she was mad.”

  He held up a finger. “But I don’t care. By leaving our boat she saved our lives. Whether she’s somehow alive or not, I’m not in a position to judge. But if she has some dirt on our new government: more power to her. If she’s involved in some plot against Capital, I think they’re smart enough to stop her. But if she isn’t… would we really want to leave her to die? She could have tried to use us as hostages. Hell, she could have killed us herself. But she didn’t.”

  His men said nothing. But they did not disagree.

  “So once our families were safe I came back looking for her. She was gone, but I followed the one logical path she might have taken and we finally caught up to her on the high point before a trench. She is now riding our anchor behind us.”

  The men jumped to their feet. “Are you crazy?” cried Sergi.

  “We’ll find out soon enough. I expect a visit from Capital any minute. I think they understood what I really meant when I asked for asylum. If they didn’t: well, they might think I tricked them into giving it, but odds are they’ll honor it anyway. I’m sure they’re worried about what Kali is up to: but if she is just a robot, I reckon they’ll be delighted to get their hands on one that delivers itself to them on a platter. Our friends back home will be furious – but what could they do about it? Capturing enemy technology is part of warfare, especially if the enemy sends it to your country to commit sabotage or whatever.”

  He smiled. “Personally, I’m rooting for Kali. But either way, we win.”

  Then his smile dropped. “Unless when they find out what we’re towing, Capital are not amused. So if you want to leave – leave now. But if you want your chance at being heroes – stay.”

  Andres was the first to speak. “I’m with you.” Sergi looked at them both then nodded. “Me too. Let’s shaft the bastards. But… under one condition. Assuming Capital gives us the chance: if they tell us to dump the robot to the bottom of the sea, we dump it.”

  “Fair enough.”

  Then they heard a faint buzzing sound and turned to see three drone quadcopters swooping towards them, two only a few feet above the waves and the third much higher in the sky. The men waved at them, assuming they were being videoed. The two low ones unreeled some kind of sensor packages into the sea and skimmed the surface, flying around the boat a couple of times. The third buzzed around the boat, looking into things and lowering its own sensor package down into the hold. Then it retrieved its sensors and shot into the sky in the direction of home. The others followed suit.

  A sound alerted them to an incoming call. The men looked tensely at each other. “Show time,” said Javi, heading to the bridge. The others crowded behind him.

  It was the same woman again. We seem to have a high priority, thought Javi laconically. Our own concierge. “Drones detect no signs of neutron or other radiation emissions, so you are not carrying a nuclear device. Be warned that any other device you could use against us will be detected in quarantine and lead to severe penalties – and will not be able to harm us. I speak of things such as high yield explosives or biological or chemical weapons. We do not consider the automatic weapons you are carrying to be a threat. However if your intentions are hostile you have one chance to turn your vessel around and leave our waters.”

  There it was again, the verbal dance. But they must know exactly what “automatic weapon” we are carrying: those drones weren’t dragging sensors through the water for nothing. They were speaking in riddles because they did not want to tip off the enemy, he knew; switching to encrypted communications now would itself be too suspicious after all that had gone before.

  “Understood. Our intentions are peaceful.”

  “In that case – I welcome you all to Capital.” And with that, she vanished again.

  “Well, guys,” he said, turning to his crew. “Let’s go in.”

  Chapter 42 – The Emissary

  Their view of Capital became clearer as they sailed closer. Light glinted off a dense forest of skyscrapers rising from an island, while beyond them a lower woodland of buildings and structures spread out across the sea.

  They had been directed to an approach vector where the wind was blowing from the direction of Capital: apparently they took the possibility of chemical or biological weapons seriously. Now a pair of low-slung, deadly looking drone ships drew in on either side to escort them in. They were shepherding them to the entrance of what looked like a metal cave, no doubt blast proof.

  Javi passed computer control of his vessel to the dock and the men gawked around them as it carried them slowly and smoothly inside the cave. Sinister-looking armaments were arrayed inside, all po
inting at them. Their boat came to a gentle halt against the dock as the doors to the cave closed behind them with a thud of finality.

  The woman who had been their point of contact stood on the dock. “Greetings, Captain Torres,” she called, executing a shallow bow of welcome. “Your cargo can come out now.”

  Javi hit the button to fully raise the anchor, and they watched as the chain clanked upwards and Kali finally reappeared, water streaming unfelt off her metal skin. She jumped onto the deck and looked around, noting the lay of the land and the array of weaponry trained on her. She did not appear concerned.

  “Thank you Javi, Andres, Sergi. You saved my life,” she said softly in her strange contralto.

  “You saved ours first.”

  “If not for me there would have been nothing to save you from.”

  The woman on shore watched intently. Then Kali turned to her and gave a bobbing bow. “You are the representative of Capital. Thank you for the asylum you granted.” She looked around at the defenses at the woman’s command and added, “Assuming you have.”

  The woman bowed. “Welcome, Kali. I am Brandi.”

  “May I come ashore?”

  Brandi smiled. “You may. You are very polite for a war robot.”

  “I hope to persuade you that I am more than that,” she said, clambering onto the dock while being sure to make no sudden moves. “If my persuasion fails,” she added, again looking around down the bores of many weapons, any one of which could pulverize her, “I imagine I won’t have too long to regret my mistake.”

  “You took a big risk coming here.”

  “You are taking a big risk standing there. Why risk your own life? You could talk to me remotely.”

  Brandi produced another smile, then laughed nervously. “Well. Yes. You’re not the only one to tell me that. And I’m one of them, at least the more sensible part of me.” Then she lifted her head. “But you claim to be a self-aware machine. If that is true, look at what you’ve done: the risks you’ve taken to get here. If a machine can have that much courage – I’d be a poor representative of my species if I showed less. If you’re what you say you deserve to be met with equal courage, not by a face cowering in her safe little bunker behind all these guns. And if I die… well, people have died for less. The chance to meet something like you in the flesh – well, it’s worth the risk.”