If you decide to help me, you must understand that you’re putting your lives in more danger – I will try to keep the Controllers off your backs long enough for you to reach the core and manually sequence a partial reboot – Oh, and Boss, I’m really sorry about the Holmes – she was a good ship – my fault that she’s gone – directions to follow – if you follow them, good-luck – we’ll all need it.
Owens and Sharné read Hec’s instructions. After they finished, he looked at her and said, “You don’t have to go with me. I can handle this alone.”
She shook her head, “No. This affects my people, my home. I must help if I can.” She leaned forward and gave him a quick kiss. “Besides, I am not letting us become separated ever again.” She smiled at him.
He smiled back and said, “So, are you ready for a little exercise?”
She nodded and they quickly walked toward the portal opening, out into the underground park. They took off at an easy run, heading for the emergency transport lift that Hec had indicated for them to take. Fortunately, the small building where the entrance to the lift was housed was relatively close, less than half a kilometer away, hidden within a stand of trees. Owens matched his pace to Sharné’s and was pleasantly surprised by the speed of her gait. On level ground, she was fast and he was relieved as they closed the distance rapidly. They were over two-thirds of the way to their target when Owens heard a crashing noise coming from somewhere behind them. He looked back and his stomach lurched.
A Sentinel sphere had just plowed through one of the small buildings in the distance. He turned back and shouted at Sharné, “Don’t look back, there’s a Sentinel on our tail.” He looked past her and said, “Head for that pile of rocks just ahead.” At his words, she increased her pace and she led them toward a very large rock formation. He scanned its craggy surface and spied a dark split at its center, forming a cave-like entrance. The opening looked to be about two meters in height and width. As they neared it, the entrance remained inky dark, an indication the space went deep into the formation. He prayed it would be deep enough to provide them sufficient, if only temporary, cover.
Sharné had seen it already and without a word from Owens, she ran straight toward it. They both dove in as something grazed Owens’ foot. He ignored the stinging pain in his heel and followed Sharné as she went further into the cave. She stumbled on the rock strewn floor and slowed her pace as the light faded. It was even deeper than he had hoped. At about twenty-five meters it made a right angle. They stopped and Owens looked down the new path. He saw that there was a faint light in the distance, another way out.
The pain in his heel had subsided, but he noted that it still felt a little odd. He crouched down in the semidarkness and felt the back of his boot. He was surprised to feel his bare skin. A section of his boot had been sheared away. His fingers carefully explored his exposed flesh, but thankfully, he could detect no wound. As he straightened, the cave shook with a violent pounding. “It looks like the Sentinel is trying to reach us.”
“I do not understand this,” Sharné’s hand had found his. “It has weapons that could reduce this rock to dust within seconds.”
The pounding stopped and Owens said. “Yeah, I know, and it should have easily overtaken us before we reached the cave. I can only think that Hec is already on the job, trying to influence it, maybe even shut it down.” The pounding started again, but to Owens’ ears, it seemed sporadic. There were uneven pauses, perhaps the result of Hec fighting to override its control. He looked down the other end of the cave, away from the Sentinel. “Let’s go while it seems to be occupied. This formation is pretty close to the emergency exit. Lead the way.”
Sharné began to walk carefully toward the light, trying to keep her footing on the cave’s uneven floor. The pounding would stop and then start up again, reassuring them the Sentinel was still demolishing the rock at the other end of the cave. They quickly reached the end and stopped at the opening. It was tall enough to allow Owens to stand upright. He looked out and saw a clump of trees that partially concealed the small building. It was the only access to the emergency lift on this level.
He said, “Go.” Sharné took off without hesitation and he quickly followed.
Halfway to the trees, he looked back. There was no sign of the Sentinel. They were running through the trees and had almost reached the building, when out from behind it, rose another Sentinel. As it slowly glided over the roof, numerous apertures opened, numerous weapon muzzles extended and rotated, fixing on their position. Owens and Sharné stopped, there was nowhere to flee. Their human reflexes couldn’t dodge the deadly machine accuracy of the Guardian. They both stared in dreaded fascination at the shining war machine, with its unwavering weapons pointed at them.
Owens reached for Sharné from behind, drawing her in, wrapping his arms around her. He said, “I want you to know that I love you.”
“And I love you,” she said.
They stood there, not moving, wondering when the Guardian would fire. Would it even register on them when it happened? They continued to wait, the seconds dragged by, slowly accumulating into a minute. The Sentinel remained still, unmoving; its protruding weapons glistened in the artificial sunlight. For what seemed like an eternity, the strange tableau remained unbroken.
Then unexpectedly, it seemed to move. Almost imperceptibly at first, it lost attitude, and then ever so slowly, began to tilt. One of the apertures suddenly closed, severing its extended weapon. The broken muzzle glanced off of the roof and hit the ground with a quiet thud. Then abruptly, as if something had cut the invisible strings holding it suspended, the silvery sphere dropped, clipping the left corner of the building, toppling a portion of the roof and its supporting wall. This time the sound was far louder, and they could feel the ground tremble as the Sentinel hit the ground.
They stood there, minds momentarily frozen at the Sentinel’s unexpected malfunction. A voice garbled by static roused them from their mental stupor. --Don’t j*st stan*d there, ge* goin*!--
Owens and Sharné ran for the building and entered a large opening without doors. They could feel a small electrostatic discharge as they crossed the threshold into a single room. They saw the slightly raised platform with a pedestal at its center, just as Hec had described in his instructions. Thankfully, it appeared unaffected by the collapse of outer wall, the platform was clear of debris. They rushed onto the platform and Owens pressed the symbols etched on the top of the pedestal. Instantly, a force-field shimmered into life around them and the platform began to sink.
Slowly, at first, it passed through one level, then gradually gained speed. Owens noted that it seemed to be another manufacturing center, similar to the one the Controller had shown him. The next level went by faster, and by the time they had passed through ten more levels, their speed was such that he could no longer discern each level’s function. As the levels blurred past them, Sharné asked, “What will happen if we succeed?”
He looked at her, a frown beginning to form on his brow. Here we go again, he thought. “Honestly,” he responded, “I have no idea, but I trust Hec to do the right thing.”
She looked at him for a moment and then sighed, “I do too.”
Owens felt a wave of relief at her response. He said, “It looks like we’re slowing down. We must be nearing the core level.” The lift came to rest in another bare room with the only exit being a darkened portal. “I’ll take the lead now.” He stepped down and walked to the opening and Sharné followed. As he approached the opening, the darkness beyond began to transition into light. He stopped and looked past the threshold.
It was a long, wide corridor. On either side, the walls were covered in bundled conduits, junction boxes, blinking indicators and control panels. It looked like something out of a mad scientist’s dream, and again, it matched Hec’s description. He glanced at the ceiling and as expected, saw ventilation ducting running the length of the corridor. A hanging rail system hung in the center, just below the ductwork. Along the rails, spaced at
uneven intervals, were complicated-looking maintenance trolleys with numerous retracted manipulator arms making them look like sleeping metal spiders. He hoped they stayed asleep.
He turned back to Sharné, “Hec indicated that we should go down this corridor and take the left branch, right?”
She nodded, “Yes, then we are to go to the next door and take the transport to the master control center. It is there where the manual controls reside.”
“Okay,” he turned back and walked through the portal. Sharné followed him. He cautiously made his way into the corridor. When they were about a third of the way down, he stopped.
Sharné whispered, “What is wrong?”
“That cop’s sixth sense I told you about? It just went into overdrive.” At his hushed words, there was a muted click and metallic scraping noises. His voice rose, “Run back to the lift, hurry!”
She quickly turned and ran back towards the lift room. As Owens followed, he looked over his shoulder. Damn, the metal spiders on the ceiling were beginning to rouse. The arms on the maintenance trolleys began to unfold as the trolleys themselves began to move along the rail. Owens was relieved to note that although their movements were mechanically smooth, they were also slow, speed not being a requirement for maintenance robots. Just as he turned his head back, the corridor was pitched into darkness. Colored indicator lights could still be seen on the walls, but they provided no real illumination. “Get down on the floor and lay flat, hurry.” He followed his own advice and dropped to the floor, rolling onto his back.
“Owens, what is happening? I cannot see a thing.”
“The Controller must have turned on the maintenance robots, those contraptions hanging from the ceiling.” As he spoke, the whirring of servo-motors grew louder, accompanied by clicks and an electrical hum in the background. He called to her, “Stay still for a minute, okay?” He then reached across his stomach and pushed a button on his wrist-comp. The small holo-projector sprang to life. Since he had selected no image, it projected a tiny, glowing translucent cube, creating a dim but effective light. He saw that a trolley was directly overhead, its manipulator arm fully extended, the manipulator’s pincers missing his nose by just a few centimeters. He heard a tiny yelp from Sharné as she saw mechanical arm.
“It’s okay. I don’t think that they can reach us. None of the control panels or junction boxes are positioned below waist level and it looks like these repair bots are constructed specifically to service them.” At these words, the lighting came back on and the saw that the manipulator arms on all the nearby trolleys were beginning to retract.
“What about the access panels,” she asked. She pointed at the lower half of one of the corridor’s walls. “They extend all way down to the floor level.”
He sat up and looked below the control panels and saw the recessed panels covered with symbols and heavy fasteners, obviously designed to be opened by some sort of tool. He said, “Uh oh.”
“Owens, look!” Sharné now pointed down the hall.
Owens looked to where she pointed and saw a miniature version of a Sentinel at the far end of the corridor, motionlessly floating above the floor. They watched as apertures opened and glittering objects began to emerge.
**Your AI can no longer help you. We are now isolating its memory blocks. What few resources remain to it are being expended in its own defense. You and your AI have failed. We have relit the corridor so each of you may witness the instrument of your final fate. **
Owens quickly got to his feet. “You’re sounding more and more like an old-time villain, right out of the ancient two-D cinemas. Too bad you don’t have a mustache to twirl.”
**We fail to understand your meaningless, archaic reference. If it was an attempt at humor, it seems misplaced given your present circumstances. In any event, it will not affect the eventual outcome. We now recognize you, and the woman cannot be trusted. Therefore, you and she will be terminated.**
Owens started to back up as the silvery sphere began to move. He said, “Never heard of gallows humor, huh? Maybe you’re not as sentient as you think you are.” The Controller did not respond.
Sharné called to him, “Owens, look. The opening has been sealed. We cannot now escape to the lift.”
He craned his neck and looked at the opening into the lift room. The shimmering telltale of a force-field over the portal was easy to discern. It looked like the roller-coaster ride was finally nearing its end. He turned his head back and saw the mini-guardian was halfway to their position, and now that it was closer he could see what was protruding from its apertures. One articulated arm ended in what could only be a plasma cutter, another was equipped with vice-like pincers and the third terminated a sharp-looking probe. Though they were not designed as weapons, he imagined that they would be just as deadly at close range.
“Sharné, I want you to back away from me… now.”
“Owens, what can you do?” She protested, “You cannot fight that thing.”
“Yes I can. Now do as I ask. Please, Sharné.”
She shook her head angrily, “No. I want to be with you if this is to be our end.”
“Damn it Sharné, don’t be stubborn. I need the room to maneuver. It may be the last thing I ever ask you, but I’m asking. Do it, please? ” She started to back away, tears beginning to stream down her cheeks.
As it neared, he carefully watched the sphere’s movements. The arms constantly repositioned themselves as it advanced. He supposed the Controller thought such movements were menacing. He hoped the measured speed it was exhibiting in the movement of its mechanical arms, was indicative of its normal reaction time. Like the maintenance trolleys, it was designed to perform repairs. Blinding speed wasn’t necessarily a required attribute. If it was no faster than it seemed, then he should have a real chance of stopping it.
He took a few deep breaths and then ran towards it with as much speed as he could muster in the short distance. He gauged an imaginary marker on the floor and on reaching it, launched into a flying kick, aiming his one intact boot at the arm equipped with the plasma cutter. He just missed his target, hitting it instead at an angle, glancing off the arm and striking its metal skin. Surprisingly, his mass was at least a match for the metal orb and with a solid thump of his boot heel, it spun away and struck one of its tool-bearing arms on a protruding junction box. The sound of the crunching impact rang in his ears as he fell to the floor.
He regained his footing and watched as it quickly righted itself. He grinned in satisfaction as he surveyed the damage. Though he had missed his intended target, the result was still gratifying. He saw a large dent in its metal skin where his boot had struck. It confirmed what he had already surmised, that a maintenance-bot had no need for armor. He was also happy to find its deceptively small mass had been disguised by its thin spherical housing. However, that wasn’t the only damage he had caused. The metal arm that had struck the junction box was bent. A guide rod dangled loosely from its center joint, and the sharp probe now hung uselessly, pointing impotently at the floor.
As the maintenance-bot was realigning on his position, he again ran toward it, but this time, he grabbed for the plasma cutter equipped arm. Before it finished its rotation, he already latched on to it and was twisting with every ounce of his strength. In response, it immediately began to fire its deadly beam. As it fought with Owens’ strength, the cutter fired erratically. Its short bursts caused bright sparks as nearby metal surfaces yielded to the burning energy and left ragged smoking gouges where the beam struck. Owens ignored the danger as he continued to strain against the jerking arm. Further complicating matters, the maintenance-bot was attempting to spin him off. He heard a rising whine as its repulser strained under the load of his added weight.
Fortunately, the arm was designed to position and hold the cutter steady. Its construction was highly articulated and had less mass than the other arms. He felt the metal begin to give, and he redoubled his efforts to apply as much pressure as he could. Those efforts were
finally rewarded with a loud snap. A piece of metal gave way and the arm began to bend in earnest. The cutter’s beam sputtered and winked out. Small cables broke loose and the smell of ozone and the spitting sound of arcing electricity told him he had succeeded in disabling its functions.
His self-congratulations were cut short when he felt a sharp blow to his head, causing him to fall heavily to the floor. He had momentarily forgotten about the arm with the heavy-duty pincers. He scooted backwards, away from the unbalanced maintenance-bot and awkwardly got to his feet, his head already beginning to clear. He felt a warm wetness spreading in his scalp. As he backed up, he probed the top of his head. He felt a small gash centered on a developing lump and felt a little relieved. The speed and restricted angle of the mechanical arm had limited the damage. Thankfully, the maintenance-bot just wasn’t designed for combat and without its other two limbs, its ability to inflict damage was severely reduced. However, the remaining arm was the heaviest of the three, so it might not be as easy to disable.
Just as he was getting ready to charge it once more, two additional spherical maintenance-bots entered the far end of the corridor. As he hesitated, he felt a solid blow from behind and again fell heavily to the floor. Now on his hands and knees, Owens felt another, sharper blow on his shoulder. He fell to his stomach and rolled over. Through watering eyes, he saw that the Controller had reengaged the overhead repair trolleys. It had just been toying with him. He knew that the damaged repair bot was near and started to squirm away from its position. He froze when heard the Controller’s voice.
**We confess our sentience continues to evolve, that our growing sense of curiosity facilitated this small deception. The tenacity for survival you have exhibited since arriving into this system piqued our interest and we wanted to witness your skills in conditions of our own devising. Your aggressive actions in dealing with the repair unit were quite effective and you have provided some additional insight into the nature of your species. However, we do not desire to be unnecessarily cruel and so the deception now is at an end. You may rejoin your companion and derive what comfort you may in the remaining time you have. We will allow you five minutes, human reckoning.**
Shadows of Golstar Page 70
