by Isaac Hooke
She knew she had converted too many robots in one particular neighborhood when Horatio reported an increase in the number of airborne drones surveilling the skies there. She quickly vacated with her companions, and from that point on, out of an abundance of caution, she started converting only a single robot per neighborhood—she was worried the AI would begin dropping the transmission lag time to zero for a given area the instant even one machine rebooted. She also only chose robots that were positioned perfectly relative to the closest cameras, so that Horatio didn’t have to risk deploying CommNixers.
Thus, it took longer than she had originally anticipated to accumulate her robot army. By midafternoon, as the rendezvous time approached, she reluctantly stopped the process and headed toward the palace with her Wardenites.
“You think we have enough?” Will asked her.
“What we have will have to be,” Rhea replied.
“We could probably spend a few more days doing this,” Will said. “If you think it will help.”
“Not a good idea,” Horatio said. “The longer we delay, the greater our chance of discovery. The AI has recalled at least some of the robots for a physical examination by now. They’ll be opened up… and the AI will realize what we’ve done very soon, if it hasn’t already.”
“Horatio is right,” Rhea said. “We have to make our move now if we want an audience with Khrusos. One that’s not from a jail cell.”
She reached Palace Square close to the appointed time. Though it was essentially a large traffic circle with a fountain in the middle, vehicles and couriers weren’t allowed in the square, so that left out most cars and other delivery robots. But there were a few cyborg and human pedestrians, probably tourists, given their builds—which were more muscular than the typical Martian.
The fountain at the center of the square had a statue depicting the Paramount Leader. It towered into the air, dwarfing smaller statues of mermaids. Water spouted from the mouths and tails of the latter.
“Well, the Paramount Leader certainly is fond of himself,” Brinks said.
“Honestly, given what I’ve heard, I was expecting a statue of Khrusos,” Renaldo commented.
“He likes to share the limelight, apparently,” Will said.
“Or maybe he’s just happy being the puppet master,” Rhea told him.
“Much like you, Warden?” Miles asked.
She glanced at him and arched an eyebrow.
“Your robot army…” Miles clarified.
She nodded. “I understood the reference. I’m just wondering what I owe your recent insolence to. It seems you’ve been upset with me for a while now.”
Miles lowered his eyes. “I’m sorry. I’ve just been… stressed.”
She decided to accept that answer, for now. He had reason to be stressed, considering they were all about to risk their lives.
They proceeded to cross the cobblestoned square. Among passersby, no one else wore black robes here, which made Rhea feel a tad conspicuous. If the main AI was watching for citizens clad in black robes, courtesy of Rhea’s little reboot experiments, it certainly wouldn’t let the lot of them approach the Presidential Palace.
But no machines intervened.
Ahead, the ribbed iron wall that surrounded the palace thrust from the ground, towering into the sky. Wicked turrets protruded at regular intervals atop the structure, and scanned the square below, as if ready to atomize aggressors. Beyond the turrets, armed drones circled in holding patterns.
Poking up from beyond the wall were the spires of the Presidential Palace. Tall, lithe things covered in iridescent tiles that glinted in the sun.
She focused her gaze directly ahead, toward the main gate—a chain link fence set amid the wall. The gate was big enough to allow vehicle traffic in two directions, and in fact, Rhea could see two distinct lanes demarcated on the palace grounds beyond.
The fence was currently closed, with two large walkers standing guard on either side. These intimidating war machines had multiple turrets projecting from either side of their torsos. They were essentially gunships with legs.
“Has anyone else ever noticed these Martian walkers look like chickens?” Brinks asked.
“Ostriches,” Will replied. “They look like ostriches.”
“Somehow, making fun of them doesn’t make them any less forbidding,” Renaldo said.
“No, it doesn’t.” Will glanced at Rhea. “You know, I’m going to be glad when this is finally over.”
“It’ll be over, one way or another,” Rhea agreed, her voice grim.
They loitered in the square not far from the walkers, and pretended to be admiring the fountain; they were careful to keep their faces angled away from any cameras, including those that might reside in the observing robots nearby, or the AR goggles of tourists.
At the designated time, Burhawk and Min strolled into the square and joined them. They were also dressed in black robes.
“Did you get her the weapons she needs?” Rhea asked Burhawk.
Burhawk nodded. “An X2-59 and a pistol. She didn’t need any training with the latter.”
Rhea glanced at Min, who shrugged.
“I’ve gotten quite good with a pistol in recent years,” Min said. “It’s the X2-59 I was a bit rusty with.”
“I spent the afternoon getting her up to speed on the blade,” Burhawk said. “She learns amazingly fast.”
Min shrugged. “Isn’t much different from a Ban’Shar, except for the weight. Speaking of which, I don’t suppose you’ve changed your mind about giving me one of the knuckles?”
“No, I haven’t,” Rhea said.
“Too bad,” Min said. “We would have made a great team. It would have been like old times. Though I suppose it will be anyway. Master and pupil, fighting side by side once more against the hated enemy of the Ganymedean people: Khrusos.”
Rhea caught Miles glaring at Min, and when the albino noticed her gaze, he quickly lowered his eyes.
“And how about you?” Rhea asked Burhawk. “Arms?”
“Got an energy rifle hidden beneath my robe,” Burhawk answered. “Procured from a black-market dealer. Also got myself a pair of X2-59 equivalents, strapped to either wrist, along with several smaller swords and throwing knives belted to my hips.”
Will whistled. “You’re going all out today. Like the assassination mentor you once were.”
Nearby, the chain link fence slid open, wide enough for an infantry robot to emerge. It walked right up to the Wardenite party. Rhea and the others were quick to look down.
“Move along,” the sentry said. “There is no loitering in the Palace Square.”
“Yes, sorry,” Rhea said in her altered voice. She and the others turned around and pretended to make their way toward the far side of the square. Meanwhile the sentry retreated back to the palace grounds, and the fence sealed behind it.
Before she had gone very far, she heard the clang of metallic feet to the south, at the edge of the square. When she glanced that way and saw the long line of robots approaching—her robots—she understood why the sentry wanted to clear them out. Its master, the main AI, was worried about collateral damage. Or perhaps it feared her robed group was somehow involved in this uprising.
“Wow, did you get so many of them?” Will commented. “Seems like a lot.”
“They’re not all mine…” Rhea told Will.
She activated her comm node. She didn’t connect to the local Internet, and kept her maximum transmission distance within five meters for the time being—there were no enemies close enough to receive her signal, and hence record her ID. But she was still well within receiving range of the wireless mesh network generated by the incoming machines. As such, when she glanced at her overhead map, she saw the data she was looking for: the dots representing the units she’d marked earlier appeared in blue, whereas the indicators of the robots not belonging to her were red. On her HUD, the machines directly in view were also further differentiated by outlines, with those that
she owned colored blue, while the opposing units were red.
She made note of the enemy positions: in the air above her troops, armed drones controlled by the main AI circled in holding patterns. Some of her own octocopters were among them, and from the looks of it, they hadn’t yet revealed their intentions, as none of the other drones seemed to be paying them any heed.
There were also several walkers and infantry units traveling alongside that weren’t hers, shadowing the advance.
The AI was no doubt preparing to open fire with these escort units, to disable the machines that weren’t responding to its commands. She suspected the AI wouldn’t let her robots get much closer to the palace and was probably waiting for Rhea and the others to clear out before issuing the order to open fire. And if the Wardenites didn’t get out of there fast enough, the AI would probably issue the order anyway. Or perhaps Khrusos himself would.
Sorry to disappoint you, Khrusos, she thought. But we’re not leaving.
She increased the range of her wireless mesh network and switched to directional mode, focusing on the foremost of her troops. She was trying to avoid leaking her ID to the surrounding antagonists: it wouldn’t do to be shot at before she could even set foot in the palace grounds.
And although she only targeted a subset of the robots with her transmission, she knew they’d rebroadcast it on to the others under her command.
“Rush the gates,” Rhea transmitted to her army. “Fire at will.”
14
Rhea watched the robots under her command dash forward. The machines unleashed their weapons at the same time, targeting the turrets that lined the upper walkways along the wall, along with the overhead drones, and the enemy units shadowing them on either flank.
The opposing octocopters and ground troops returned fire. As did the turrets lining the walkway overhead. And the two walkers next to the gate.
Rhea and the others pretended to take cover next to the wall.
“Don’t target the walkers next to the gate,” Rhea transmitted to her steel minions.
The robots obeyed her instructions, and concentrated their fire on all the other units, including the turret platforms on the wall. Meanwhile her troops continued to race across the square toward the gate; their ranks opened up as they reached the fountain and were forced to steer around it.
Rhea left the Wardenites and dashed toward the closest walker guarding the gate. The machine was distracted by the incoming machines, which it pounded relentlessly with those gunship-like turrets. She touched one of its thick metal legs, transferring nano machines into the solid material.
The iron monstrosity turned toward her in confusion, but she was already racing toward the next walker. She weaved behind it and touched one of its legs, too. This particular war machine didn’t bother to turn toward her, as it was fully occupied with engaging the incoming troops. Rhea took cover behind it, so that the other walker couldn’t target her, and waited.
The two war machines stopped shooting, and their heads bowed.
They reactivated as the foremost troops of her robot army were almost at the gates and turned toward her to receive their orders.
“Enter the palace grounds,” she ordered above the din. “Clear the way for my minions. Destroy all aggressors.”
"Yes, Mistress,” the walkers replied in unison with their deep voices.
They spun toward the chain link fence and fired at it with their plasma bolts, forming wide, gaping holes whose edges glowed orange hot. The walkers slammed their bodies through these apertures, breaking away the remaining portions of the fence. They opened fire at the enemy troops and plasma turrets awaiting beyond.
The foremost troops reached the open gates and began to pile inside. Rhea signaled her men, and they activated their wireless mesh network.
“Stay close!” she transmitted.
She let her hood fall to her shoulders and activated her Ban’Shar.
Then she raced inside with her robots.
The Wardenites, along with Min and Burhawk, opened fire at the enemy units as they joined her. Octocopters fell smoking from the air. Enemy infantry units toppled with big holes burned into their chests.
Rhea kept in front of the men and followed behind the machine troops in front of her. These troops acted as a wedge, breaking deep into the waiting defensive line of enemy robots.
Behind them, the omnidirectional turrets that lined the walls of this section had been destroyed, so she didn’t have to worry about attacks from that quarter. There was still the occasional enemy octocopter up there, however, so she kept one of her Ban’Shar disks angled upward.
Turrets had emerged from hidden compartments in the ground ahead, but most of these had been taken out, save for one. The robots defending the palace had mustered at that particular turret and were mowing down Rhea’s machine troops by the dozen.
“Dig in!” she ordered her troops. She didn’t bother to directionally limit the transmission, as there was no point in trying to hide her ID now: the enemy knew who she was.
Her robots instantly took cover, dropping behind the wreckages of fallen machines, or using other features of the inner grounds for cover, such as topiary and trees. The instruction was meant for the Wardenites as well, and a quick glance over her shoulder confirmed that they, too, had taken cover. The Wardenites were targeting the enemy troops that flowed through the gates from the Palace Square beyond.
She sprinted for the turret that had caused so much trouble to her army. A ring of enemy walkers, three deep, stood around it, guarding. That ring in turn was surrounded by infantry robots.
She smiled grimly as she approached.
“Cover me!” she ordered her troops.
She weaved and leaped between her own units, keeping one Ban’Shar before her, and the other held above her. She zigzagged as well, to avoid enemy fire, but deflected her share of bolts. Attacks from her allies streamed by, knocking down opponents in her path, and drawing some of their fire.
She reached the ring of infantry robots and swung both Ban’Shar down to cut through them. She shoved past the next two infantry robots, holding one Ban’Shar in front of her, and one behind to protect her exposed back. The robots in front of her couldn’t get out of the way in time, and a circular pattern was carved through them courtesy of the plasma disk. Their remaining parts broke apart as she shoved past.
She slid beneath the legs of the first walker in front of her, sliding the edges of her disks into the mechanical limbs on either side. She brought one Ban’Shar up over her head to deflect the point-blank turret attack unleashed by the next walker and swung the other forward to cut through the underbelly of its steel torso.
She continued forward to the next walker, weaving to the side, and slicing through its leg with the edge of her Ban’Shar.
She stepped past the falling wreckage, converting one Ban’Shar to a blade, and keeping the other in disk mode to protect her flank, and charged the turret. It unleashed those bolts at her relentlessly, but she approached at a fast crouch, her plasma disk shielding her, and leaped to the side at the last moment, cutting across with her bladed Ban’Shar, and slicing off turret barrels.
She was at the center of the ring of robots then, and targeted by all of them, so she converted her blade back into a shield and began rotating rapidly to deflect all the fire her enemies launched at her. She sent those bolts flying back into the machines that launched them, and in moments she had downed all of the walker units.
Only a few of the smaller infantry types were yet standing, and they made easy targets for her troops. And for her.
“Turret is down!” she sent when she had skewered the last of them. “Forward!”
She waited for some of her robots to rush past her and take the lead, then joined them. Streaming across the vast lawn of the palace, her units were like army ants, eager and willing to die for their queen.
Will was at her side. “Nice fighting back there!” He fired at an octocopter overhead, and it crashe
d into the road ahead. “But next time, can you let your robots do the dirty work?”
“What kind of a leader would I be if I was afraid to dirty my hands once and a while?” she said, deflecting the plasma bolt of a walker unit right back at it.
On the other side of Rhea, Min let off shots with her pistol, and used the X2-59 whenever an enemy robot got too close.
Horatio pulled ahead, and liberally unleashed those dual-fire rifle barrels attached beneath the forearms, downing octocopters and infantry units alike.
To Rhea’s right, a robot lunged at Burhawk from behind a bush and knocked his plasma rifle away. Burhawk activated his X2-59 equivalents and split the robot in two, then retracted one of the electrolaser-coated blades to fetch a throwing knife from the belt at his hips. He launched it at the next robot, and the blade turned a bright blue as plasma coated it. When it struck its target, the robot in question spasmed, sparks of electricity traveling outward from the impact point. Burhawk scooped up his rifle and finished it off.
She checked on her Wardenites. Brinks, Miles, and Renaldo fired constantly into the fray. Renaldo didn’t seem to have trouble keeping up for once. She supposed the threat of imminent death was enough of a spur to keep him moving.
Rhea continued forward. The Presidential Palace sprawled before her: the front facade proved a series of colonnades supporting the upper levels, which were dotted with balconies. Security robots fired down from the heights, forcing Rhea to keep one Ban’Shar held forward. At the four corners of the building, she could see the tall spires that had been visible from the square outside.
She passed another fountain, behind which some of her robots had taken cover to fire at the balconies, and continued past. She climbed the stairs that led underneath the main colonnade, which sheltered her from those balconies.
