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The Machine Awakes

Page 24

by Adam Christopher


  “I didn’t kill any agent, Mr. Kodiak, and you’re not listening to me. The situation is much more complicated than you know. The Morning Star is not responsible for the assassinations. There is a much larger force at play, one I’ve been working against.”

  Kodiak licked his lips and paced the small room a little. It was close, dim, claustrophobic. He had to get out. But he also knew that he had to gather more data. He turned back to the servitor.

  “Go on,” he said.

  “The JMC, as big as it is, is just one tiny part of a larger private enterprise,” said Glass. “This parent company doesn’t even have a name, but those who know it exists refer to it as the Caviezel Corporation.”

  “I know that name. Resta Caviezel—the first Chief Executive of the JMC. But that’s hardly a secret. He was as famous as Ponti Cavalcante, or as Zia Hollywood is today.”

  Glass nodded. “But what is a secret, Mr. Kodiak, is what the Caviezel Corporation is using the Fleet for.”

  Kodiak blinked. “Using the Fleet?”

  “Yes,” said Mr. Glass. “Caviezel’s claws run very deep, Mr. Kodiak. In addition to robotics research, Caviezel also has the logistics contract to collect and repatriate the Fleet’s war dead back to Earth.”

  There it was. There was the connection he’d been looking for. The realization hit him like a punch in the stomach and Kodiak stepped back until he touched the warm wall behind him. Trash clattered at his feet.

  The Fleet’s war dead. War dead like Caitlin’s twin brother, Tyler. Caviezel had control over their remains.

  “The JMC has a network of heavily protected shipping routes,” said Glass. “Every part of Fleetspace is connected not just to Earth, but to the Jovian system. And the Jovian system is a good place to hide something.”

  Kodiak felt the air leave his lungs. He felt tired, and old, and heavy, and hot. “Eight-seven-nine-one-two-two-Juno-Juno,” he whispered.

  Glass nodded. “I’ve been broadcasting those coordinates as loudly as possible. I’m glad you heard them.”

  “Caitlin Smith thinks her brother is there.”

  Glass smiled. Kodiak wasn’t sure if it was because he was a servitor with an artificial face, or whether there was true emotion behind it, an echo perhaps of the original man. Because the smile was cold, cruel. Knowing. Kodiak felt his stomach do a flip.

  “Tyler Smith, killed in action, out on the Warworlds,” said Glass.

  “And his remains repatriated by the Caviezel Corporation.” Kodiak shook his head, trying to take it in. “What’s at those coordinates?”

  “That, I’m afraid, is one question I don’t know the answer to, Mr. Kodiak.”

  Kodiak frowned. “What? Aren’t you part of the JMC AI?”

  “I am, but I only have access to some parts of the system. The AI is fragmented, deliberately, so different sectors of the corporation are kept in the dark about the activities of the others.”

  “Figures,” said Kodiak. He sighed and glanced over the machine man’s shoulder. Glass was standing near the wall, the room’s only door just behind and to his right. The door was nothing but a thin black outline on the pale metal wall, the chromed control panel on one side. “Look, I need to get Cait out of there and—”

  He moved for the door and Glass moved too, stepping into his path.

  “Hey, let me—”

  Glass pushed his free hand into Kodiak’s chest. The staser hung in the other.

  “I can’t let you out of here, Agent.”

  Kodiak felt the heat rise in his face. He clenched his fists. “Get out of my way.”

  “There’s something else,” said Glass, his face in Kodiak’s. “The part of the system I can read is shrinking fast.”

  Kodiak took a step back. Glass dropped his hand. “There’s a corruption in the AI,” said the servitor. “And it’s spreading. This facility has been infected, Agent. The computer is holding it back, creating defensive silos within its infrastructure, routing it through redundant network loops, but somehow it manages to find ways around the failsafes, rewriting code faster than the system can counter.”

  Kodiak blinked at the servitor. What Glass was describing sounded bad, but …

  “This is why I need Ms. Smith,” said the servitor. “I need her talents to help clean the system.”

  Kodiak waved at the door. “Fine, help me get her out of there.”

  Glass shook his head. “No, you misunderstand, Mr. Kodiak. She is in exactly the right place. Flood thinks she is going to use Ms. Smith to resurrect her god. But instead, when her mind is linked with the JMC computer, the AI will be able to use her abilities to disinfect the system.”

  Kodiak rubbed his face. “You’re telling me you actually want Flood and her lunatics to plug her into the computer?”

  “You don’t understand the danger we are in, Mr. Kodiak. The danger everyone is in.”

  “Define everyone.”

  Glass threw his arms up. “Everyone. The whole of the Fleetspace. If we don’t stop it, it won’t just be this facility that will be lost. This will just be the start.”

  Kodiak turned and slapped the hot wall in frustration with both hands, then spun around to face Glass again. “Of what, dammit?”

  “The infection, Mr. Kodiak,” said Glass, not backing away, his voice low, conspiratorial. Kodiak had to strain to hear the servitor over the background hum of the sorting room. “It is being slowed, but not stopped. Eventually every part of the system will be consumed, and then once it has control of this refinery, it will be able to spread out, infecting the Fleet, infecting every other computer system there is.”

  Kodiak shook his head. “A virus?”

  “No, not a virus. Something far more dangerous and complex. It’s a whole operating system. Self-compiling, self-programming. An alien AI, Mr. Kodiak.”

  Kodiak turned around again. He looked at the wall behind him, the pale metal cast in a reddish glow by the low lights of the sorting room. He drew breath to speak, then he froze. A thought occurred. A terrible, awful thought, one that chilled him to the bone, despite the close heat of the sorting room. It was ridiculous, he told himself. Impossible. His imagination running wild. A fantasy.

  And yet, he hesitated before speaking. He wished he was wrong, but he had a sinking feeling, deep in his stomach.

  “An alien AI,” he whispered. “The Spiders?”

  Glass looked at Kodiak, didn’t speak, just gave a small nod.

  “But … it can’t be, can it? The Spiders are machines.”

  “Powered by an AI. A self-compiling, self-programmed AI.”

  Of course. Kodiak knew the Spiders were an AI—a gestalt computer intelligence that built machines to move around it. He’d never considered that the AI and the Spider machines were separate components of the same system—the mind and the vehicle, the software and the hardware—but it was obvious now that Glass had pointed it out.

  But what the servitor was saying was too horrific to contemplate. The Fleet was fighting a war against a machine army. But if that army, that enemy, had found a way to infect other computer systems with itself … if, as Glass had suggested, that infection could turn Fleet machines into Spider machines, then the implications were monstrous. The war would end, and not in the Fleet’s favor.

  Kodiak rubbed his face and sighed. Okay. Concentrate. Focus. Gather data. Make a battle plan.

  Try and get out of this alive. Try and get everyone out of this alive.

  Including Cait.

  “Okay,” he said, gathering himself. “What happens when Cait is plugged into the computer?”

  Glass opened his mouth and closed it again. His eyes met Kodiak’s and Kodiak just shook his head.

  “It’ll kill her, won’t it?” he asked. “You’ll burn out the infection, but you’ll burn out her mind too.”

  Glass’s expression was blank, emotionless. “If she is strong she may be able to hold out for a time.”

  Kodiak exhaled deeply, feeling the adrenaline course through
his body. Glass had outlined a nightmare scenario, one that would throw the war in a whole new direction.

  But … there had to be another way. Had to be. He couldn’t let Cait be sacrificed, no matter how logical Glass made it seem.

  So what about the source of the infection? Maybe, if he could find that, he could find a way of cutting it off, and maybe that would be enough for the JMC computer’s security systems to regain control and wipe the infection out without drawing on the power of Cait’s mind.

  The source.

  A string of now familiar coordinates ran through his mind. Eight-seven-nine-one-two-two-Juno-Juno. The Caviezel Corporation’s secret Jovian facility. Wherever it was. Whatever they were hiding, Kodiak was fairly sure that was the best place to start looking.

  Kodiak nodded to himself. He had made his decision. Screw Glass’s logic. He couldn’t let one person be sacrificed, even if it meant saving millions—billions—of others.

  At least, not until he had exhausted all other options.

  He looked up at Glass. Glass narrowed his eyes. Was that emotion, or a facsimile of emotion?

  “We have no choice, Agent,” said the servitor.

  “That’s where you’re wrong,” said the agent. “We always have a choice. Whether it’s the right one or the wrong one, just having the ability to decide for ourselves is part of what makes us human. Something you wouldn’t understand.”

  “What you don’t understand, Mr. Kodiak, is that I can’t let you interfere. I removed you from Flood and her associates so you would not jeopardize the operation by trying to rescue Ms. Smith.”

  “Yeah, I was starting to figure that,” said Kodiak. Then he grabbed the staser hanging from the servitor’s hand in a single, lightning move. Glass reached for the weapon, a look of confusion crossing the servitor’s face, but Kodiak was already out of reach. Stepping backwards, he raised the gun and sent two stun bolts into the robot’s torso. Bright white chains of energy crackled across Glass’s body. Then the servitor froze and fell forward onto the floor.

  Knowing how the personality of Glass had jumped from one servitor to another, Kodiak figured he would meet the AI again. But for the moment, he had his freedom.

  He rushed to the door, slapped the manual control with his palm, and pulled back against the wall. As the door slid open, letting in a blast of cool, fresh air, he peered around the doorway. The corridor outside was empty and white—he was back up in the public areas of the refinery. To his left, the corridor curved away out of sight. To his right, it went on for a few meters, then opened out into one of the big, high-ceilinged atria.

  Kodiak slipped out, staser held ready. Checking behind him as he went, Kodiak crabbed along the wall until he reached the end of the corridor. The atrium ahead was still, silent. Kodiak listened for a while longer, then crept forward. He had to find the refinery master control room, and fast, if he was going to stop Cait from being plugged into the computer. His plan was a simple one—get her out, and then locate the company’s secret operation, somewhere in the system. With the Bureau shuttle now within Jupiter’s magnetosphere, he just hoped he’d be able to plot a course to the coordinates.

  “Drop it!”

  Kodiak froze, then frowned. He recognized the voice. Turning around, he saw Special Agent Braben stepping out from behind a tall decorative column in the atrium.

  Talk about good timing. Kodiak smiled. Good old Braben. And good old Avalon. She must have gotten tired of waiting and sent his partner out to help.

  Kodiak’s smile dropped as Braben raised his gun, aiming it right at him.

  33

  Kodiak lifted his hands, more out of surprise at finding his partner at the refinery. The two of them stood still for a moment, then Braben sighed in apparent relief and lowered his weapon as Kodiak lowered his arms.

  “Brother, you have to stop sneaking around like that,” said Braben, shaking his head. “I nearly shot you. Again.”

  “Me sneaking around? You’re the one hiding behind a pillar. But I’m glad to see you.”

  “The Bureau hadn’t heard anything from you,” said Braben. “The whole Jovian system is cut off. Some kind of interference from a big magnetic storm. What’s going on? Where’s Cait?”

  “Come on,” said Kodiak, “I’ll explain on the way.”

  * * *

  A few minutes later, Kodiak and Braben were crouched behind another decorative pillar in another wide atrium, this one with a direct view of the refinery control room’s main doors, Braben having led them there thanks to the refinery map he’d been able to call up onto his wrist computer from the JMC’s public access network. As they watched the control room doors, Kodiak filled his partner in on everything that had gone down since he and Cait had arrived.

  “That explains a few things,” said Braben. “This place is deserted. I followed the automatic guidance beacons and brought my shuttle down on the main landing pad, and then just walked straight in. I’m lucky I found you, man. This place is massive.”

  Kodiak nodded. Yes, he thought, it was lucky. Kodiak pushed Braben in the chest until they were both flat against the wall. Braben looked at Kodiak, but Kodiak just shook his head and shushed him.

  Footsteps approached—no, footsteps, and something else too. Something heavy, rhythmic, metallic. It echoed down the corridor, louder and louder. Kodiak and Braben glanced at each other, then Kodiak risked a look around the pillar.

  It was Flood’s little group—herself and her four masked acolytes clad in their black jumpsuits and masks. A JMC servitor led the way, followed closely by Flood herself, her mask hanging loosely around her neck. Behind her two men pulled Cait along by her arms—Cait was conscious, but she was hanging from their arms loosely, her head bouncing with their movements.

  The loud, heavy sound came from the machines that were following. Eight feet tall, little more than angular frameworks of black metal, articulated limbs reminiscent of the human form, but only just. Kodiak recognized them immediately. They were the Bureau servitors, the ones he had brought to the refinery in his own shuttle.

  So, that proved that. The machines were JMC built and now the JMC had taken back control. Kodiak had boosted the Morning Star’s strength himself.

  Well, shit.

  He sighed, and felt Braben move beside him so he could take a look too.

  The group, their prisoner, and robot escort stopped at the control room door, the human facsimile servitor moving forward to operate the controls, pressing its hand against the chrome security plate. Operator recognized, the double-doors hissed open and the group entered. As the last two Bureau servitors thudded across the threshold, the door slid shut.

  Braben made to move forward, but Kodiak pulled him back. Braben looked at Kodiak with a quizzical expression, but Kodiak didn’t have to pull him very hard to get him back behind the pillar.

  Braben gestured at the door with his gun. “We gotta stop them, Von. We gotta get Cait out of there. Glass said she would die, right?”

  “But he also said he needed her to help him burn out the infection,” said Kodiak. “He said that was the greater danger.”

  Gah! He didn’t need this, not now. Kodiak tried to refocus, tried to stop himself second-guessing the decision he had already made. That kind of hesitation, that kind of indecision out on the field is what got agents killed.

  Braben sighed. “We don’t know that. I’ve never heard of the Spider AI being able to infect other things. The only thing I do know is that they’ve been ahead of us this whole time. They led us here, Von.”

  “No,” said Kodiak, “they led her here. This all centers on Cait.”

  “So it’s about time we got her out of there, right?”

  Kodiak nodded. He was glad Braben was here, his encouragement silencing the doubts that threatened to cloud Kodiak’s mind. Braben was right. It was time to get Cait out of there, then locate the mystery coordinates and, if he was correct, cut out the Spider infection at the source.

  Another thought ente
red his mind. Another thought he tried very hard to ignore.

  Locate the mystery coordinates, cut out the Spider infection at the source.

  Or die trying.

  Kodiak looked around, snapping himself out of it. If they were going to get Cait out, they had to get into the master control room. A master control room now filled with twelve armed Bureau servitors, under the control of the JMC computer, which was still cooperating with Flood and her small team.

  They could hardly walk in through the main doors. No, they needed another way in. Somewhere they could maybe see what was going on, find the right moment to act.

  The atrium and corridors were still, quiet. On the opposite side of the large open space was a stairwell, curving up with the wall. Looking up, Kodiak saw it led to a balcony, which itself curved away from sight over the top of the control room wall.

  “What do you think’s up there?” asked Kodiak, pointing at the balcony.

  Braben followed his finger. “Could be a gallery.” He turned back to face Kodiak. “Over the control room?”

  Kodiak nodded. “Let’s take a look.”

  Braben gestured with his gun, the grin on his face wide. “This plan I like. After you, Agent.”

  * * *

  Their guess had been right. The two agents crept along the curving balcony, which overlooked the atrium below and then turned into a short corridor. A few more meters and they were greeted by a reddish orange glow from the other end as the corridor opened out into a gallery overlooking the control room. As they approached, Kodiak motioned for Braben to keep down; they shuffled forward in a crouch, and as the control room came into view, Kodiak lowered himself completely to the floor and pulled himself along in a crawl on his elbows. The last thing they needed now was to be spotted.

  The control room was circular, with a high flat ceiling. The gallery ran right around the circumference, with other corridors opening out onto it at intervals. Kodiak shuffled himself to the railed edge and looked over.

  There were two long, curved consoles sweeping around the center of the room, in the center of which stood a huge holographic projection of Jupiter. The control room was elegantly lit with white uplights and spots—designed more to impress Fleet visitors than to be truly practical—but the planetary projection, photoreal and covered in an array of overlaid graphics, provided most of the light in the room, the swirling clouds and storms casting rippling light across the walls, like reflections cast off moving water.

 

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