"Yeah. Except for the way the room is spinning. I don't know if it is the blood loss or the meds, but I am feelin' it right now."
"Well, we've got a ship in the hangar..."
"Me, Silo, Garotte, M-"
"Am I supposed to know who those people are?"
"You worked with them!"
"Doesn't sound like anyone I'd associate with," Karter slurred.
"Ma, help me out here," Lex groaned.
"Gladly, Lex. Mr. Alexander is referring to Sgt. Jessica Winters, the heavy weapons expert, and the variously named British agent, each of whom had routinely sought your help until their incarceration."
"Ma? What are you doing here?"
"I am performing my primary function: Keeping and/or getting you out of trouble."
"Well you screwed up the first part."
"Perhaps if you were a more effective programmer, this wouldn't have happened."
"Can we do this later?" Lex asked, "I want very badly to get out of here."
"Yeah. Me too. The food's terrible," Karter groaned.
#
Silo and Garotte retreated to a safe distance, and for good measure, ducked inside a separate room.
"That's a hell of a door. It took every grenade I had. Variables at cross beams, high yield at key supports. The line between 'get the door open' and 'crack the hull' is a pretty narrow one. What I did should be enough to knock it from its hinges. Fuse should blow in five," Silo said before covering her ears.
The explosion came on schedule, and was the short, sharp clap of a controlled explosion combined with the odd, rippling echo one gets from loud sounds in hallways. When the creaking of metal and the rattle of equipment settled down, and there was no sudden rush of escaping gas that would have indicated a hull breech, the pair ventured outside. Every light even remotely nearby was shattered, leaving them in complete darkness. Garotte tapped on his helmet-mounted lights and observed the carnage. Most of the hallway was a mess of twisted, blackened metal, and the whole wall was bowed inward... but the door was still in place.
"E-gad they built these stations sturdy back then," Garotte mused.
Silo paced up to the door, looked it over, and gave it a powerful thrust kick. The weakened metal let out a final screech and the door rattled to the ground like an overturned turtle.
"I was close. I guess I'm just a bit rusty," she said, ducking inside, Garotte hot on her heels.
The interior of the weapons bay was just as bare as Ma had suggested. Normally it was a machinery-strewn room. A bit taller than one deck and barely three meters deep, it was nearly as long as their hallway battleground. One could see where a thicket of mechanical limbs, conveyors, and equipment had once been attached with the purpose of feeding ammunition to the primary weapons systems. Now the cupboard was bare, with the ammo racks and cases open and empty, and machinery scavenged to build Karter's toys. Along the floor were three troughs, the only portions of the bay that were fully stocked and intact, each displaying two nondescript missiles lying end to end. They were the size and shape of metallic telephone poles, with panel-seams and emitter heads scattered sparsely across the surface and a black tiled tip serving as the only details, and giving it the appearance of a burnt wooden match as envisioned by a jeweler.
Without wasting time for his usual round of banter, Garotte drew his weapon and fired a burst of shots. Rather than striking the CMEA, they splashed against a field of some sort, vanishing without even a scorch mark. Several additional shots to the others brought the same effect. That is to say, no effect at all.
"That's disappointing," he said steadily, keying the radio. "Lex, have you found Karter yet?"
"Still getting there, but we've got a line open to him," Lex replied.
"Karter, how do we destroy these missiles you made?"
"With great difficulty. They're designed to plunge as far as possible into a star, remember?"
"There's got to be a way."
"Well, if you fracture a few of the heat tiles in the front, they'll burn up before they can do their thing. Those are ceramic, pretty brittle. Low velocity blunt force should get through the energy shielding, and enough of it would do the trick..."
Silo rushed to the tip of one of the missiles, raised the butt of her recently borrowed rifle, and bashed at the tip, causing one of the tiles to chip.
"...I wouldn't recommend it, though. It has automated defenses," he continued.
One of the panels near the center of the missile popped aside and revealed a small energy cannon, which fired three random shots that Silo narrowly managed to dodge before it retracted again.
"Why would you put something like that on there!?" She cried.
"So it would do that to people who try to do what you did. I design things to get jobs done, even if people try to stop them. That's the way-" Karter began.
"Someone is accessing the exterior release," Ma announced.
"We're out of time," Garotte said.
Silo ran to the damaged CMEA and delivered another blow, rolling aside and attempting to strike another while the first one fired. The mechanisms controlling the door began to grind.
"I cannot stop the door. It will open in less than a minute," Ma alerted.
"Silo, now! Between us and the crazy woman with the knife, half of the doors are blown open. Half of this station is about to be a hard vacuum and you don't have a helmet!"
"Millions of lives, Garotte! This is the mission!" Silo proclaimed.
"You can't break them all, we need another way!"
"I don't care, I have to try!"
"You-"
Whatever sentiment he'd had in mind was cut short by the apocalyptic wail of air escaping. The spaceward wall split like a zipper, inching slowly open. Garotte flipped down and sealed the visor of his suit. Silo dropped to the ground and grasped the edge of the missile-trough and dragged herself forward. The flow of air was steadily increasing in intensity. Garotte looked desperately about until he caught sight of a case installed on the wall, its door flapping in the growing gale. He barely managed to reach it before the rushing wind pulled his feet from the ground. He hooked the end of the strap for his own rifle onto a brace inside and unhooked the other end, looping it through a belt on the space suit before finally releasing his grip on the case. The escaping atmosphere ripped him to the end of the strap, where he dangled and whipped, a foot or so from the point where Silo ran out of handholds. He extended his hand to her, and she shakily extended hers. Loose bolts and fragments of metal were launching through the bay, gouging into the floor and ceiling. A fragment of shrapnel slashed across one arm of his suit, breaking the seal. One or two of the stray soldiers on the deck made a brief appearance in the bay before tumbling out the door. The rush of wind all but blinded Silo, but finally her hand met his.
Instantly her grip nearly crushed his fingers. Hand over hand, she hauled herself down his arm, down his body, along the strap, and finally into the case. Shielded at least partially from the wind, but already feeling the effects of the drop in pressure, she managed to reel Garotte in, and the two of them wrestled the door shut. In the pitch black and cramped confines, Garotte found the control pad for his suit and punched in a command that opened a vent and pressurized the tiny space. It wasn't until the wind outside gave way mostly to airless vacuum that they became aware of the voice insistently repeating a message.
"-is open and atmosphere loss is critical. Silo and Garotte, what is your status? The door is open and atmosphere loss is critical. Silo and Garotte-" Ma's voice droned.
"We're here! We're okay," Silo said, gratefully gasping deep breaths of the oxygen.
"There was an equipment case for pressure-sensitive tools and materials. We managed to get inside, but until you can get this weapons bay pressurized again, we're stuck here, because Silo doesn't have an intact suit, and neither do I," Garotte explained. "There are at least four undamaged missiles."
"Karter, Lex, please report status," Ma said.
"I got t
o Karter. It was a little tricky getting into the transporter room, now that half the floor is missing, but I got him and the suit out. Now me, M- Uh... Squee, and Karter are in the next corridor over. There is an awful lot of creaking and groaning, but I think we're air tight, at least for now," Lex replied over the radio. "What do we do now?"
"Processing... I have taken full control of long range communication and external sensors. I am attempting to prepare a contingency. In the meantime, is your space suit intact?" Ma asked.
"Yes."
"Has Karter been outfitted with a suit?"
"Not yet, he's being uncooperative."
"Hey, listen. I'm already losing my buzz, and I'm not in a friendly mood thanks to this hole in my back, which everybody seems to be ignoring," remarked Karter.
"Lex, you will have to find a way to reach the weapons bay and prevent the CMEA from firing. Karter, you need to find a way to detonate the station if Lex fails," Ma dictated.
"That would kill me, Ma," Karter said, as if to a child. "We don't do that, remember?"
"It would kill all of us, but it would save a considerable number of lives. It is an undesirable result, but preferable to the alternative."
"I seriously messed up some of your algorithms, Ma," he muttered. "When we get home-"
"The weapons bay doors have finished opening. There is someone accessing the manual launch controls. Patching in to communications."
#
In the weapons bay, Purcell was crouched at a small panel on the floor. The station's gravity had pulled her down upon her entry, and it was the work of a few moments to find the manual launch control. Three commands were all it took to drop all six missiles into launch tubes. Entering the command authorization for the actual launch was proving to be more time consuming though, particularly with the bulky gloves of the emergency pressure suit she'd been forced to use. Unlike its voice counterpart, the code was easily as cumbersome as the suit, an eighty digit mess that a less disciplined commander wouldn't have taken the time to memorize.
"Discontinue your current activities or I will be forced to take preventative measures," Ma instructed through the emergency suit's radio.
"You're the one who refused to launch the missiles!" Purcell hissed, "Who are you?"
"Altruistic Artificial Intelligence Control System, Version 1.27, revision 2331.04.01, subset 1.2, Designation 'Ma,'" she replied.
"An artificial intelligence? Then there is nothing you can do to stop me. You are not capable of harming a human," the commander said, going back to work.
"Incorrect. I am an Altruistic AI. There is no programmatic safeguard prohibiting that or any other action. So don't tempt me."
"There's no way you can attack me in here. There is no computer control anymore."
"One of my associates is en route to your location, and an additional alternative is being deployed."
"Uh..." Lex's voice interjected over the radio. "I might be a bit held up. There are some soldiers here still, and they've got me and Karter cornered."
A radio crackle signaled some actions on Ma's part. When she spoke again, it was only to her allies. "I have gained control of primary and secondary navigational control. The damage to the station is extreme, but I may be able to cause a distraction. Please restrain yourselves."
"Karter, hold on. Okay, done," said Lex, grabbing tightly to the nearest handrail in the side chamber he'd taken refuge in.
"This should be good," Karter remarked.
"Haven't got much of a choice. There's not a tremendous amount of elbow room in here," Garotte replied.
"I'll say," Silo agreed.
"Stand by," Ma said, "Artificial gravity deactivated, inertial inhibitor deactivated. Maneuvering thrusters, active. Setting to two hundred percent capacity, burst mode."
As gravity disengaged, the various pieces of debris and the remaining inhabitants of the station slowly drifted from the ground.
"Thrusters prepared. Firing."
Instantly the whole of the station rocked to the side. Those who were unrestrained were sent careening into the walls. In the weapons bay, Purcell was yanked away from the control panel and scrambled to activate her weak zero-g maneuvering jets again to try to reach it.
"Firing... firing... firing..." Ma dictated.
With each statement, the station took another shift. The soldiers and Purcell were rattled about, bouncing forcefully off of the walls until the shifting finally stopped.
"Thruster heat level critical, entering cool-down phase," Ma explained.
"Okay, okay!" Lex said shakily, "The soldiers are pretty discombobulated. I'm going to try to get by."
"Acknowledged. Thrusters offline, artificial gravity active."
As gravity suddenly reasserted, the unprepared and bewildered crashed to the ground.
"Karter, stay safe and take care of Squee," Lex said, hanging the funk around its creator's neck.
"Uh huh," Karter said, glancing down at the creature. "Hey, have you been tampering with this thing? That wire is not stock."
Ignoring the inventor, Lex burst from his cover and charged down the hall.
#
In the weapons bay, Commander Purcell recovered from the rock tumbler of a journey she had just taken. She dragged herself along the floor to the panel and resumed her code entry.
"What is your status, Lex?" Ma asked.
"Running! How long have I got?"
"Commander Purcell has entered sixty-eight out of eighty necessary digits."
"I don't know if I can-"
"Seventy-one."
"I'm at least three decks away, I don't-"
"Seventy-eight. The code is entered. Commander Purcell, this is the last warning you will receive. Do not activate the CME Activators."
"You cannot stand in the way of progress. The ashes of today will fertilize the fields of tomorrow, and I shall be the one to light the flames!"
Her gloved hand came down on the execute command. The grind of machinery rang out, and with six distinct streaks of engine flare, the CMEAs fired.
"You should not have done that," Ma stated.
"In a century, when mankind has advanced beyond the timid, cowardly apes we are today, I will be hailed as a savior," she proclaimed.
"Stand by...," Ma stated.
"It is over. You've lost," Purcell announced defiantly. "Stand by for what?"
"The contingency plan," Ma stated.
At a whisper of motion in the corner of her eye, Purcell turned to the open loading door of the weapons bay. Rapidly approaching was a sleek, black ship. Retro-rockets flashed and the ship came to a stop outside the door. A turret repositioned, and a dim light traced a flickering line from the ship to the commander. Purcell felt it as a crushing, immobilizing force.
"What... what is that?" Purcell struggled.
"That is the Son of Betsy, the ship belonging to one of the individuals currently infiltrating this station. I am controlling it remotely, and it is holding you in its tractor beam," Ma explained. "Some of your men have locked down the bay containing the Declaration of War, but the Son of Betsy is fully under my control."
"Force her to deactivate the missiles! Send a kill code! Call them back!" Silo urged over the radio.
"Uh, yeah, that won't work," Karter said. "They don't have transceivers. There's no kill switch."
"Why not!?" Silo asked.
"Because no one put a kill switch in the design specification," Karter said simply.
"I am opening a communication connection to all decks of the station. Tell your soldiers to stand down," Ma instructed.
Purcell struggled to take a deep breath as the channel opened. "Attention, men... Fight to your last breath!"
"I urge you to reconsider. You will not receive any more opportunities to do so," Ma stated. Her time as an organic creature must have produced some lingering effects on her voice module, because she managed a tone of smoldering anger far more effectively than a few chopped up voice response systems should have been ab
le to manage.
"I am dedicated to my cause. As long as I draw breath I will do everything I can to tear down the technologies that are holding us back. I will never stop. I wouldn't be afraid of you even if you could hurt me, but you are a machine. There's nothing you can do."
"Once again, I must inform you that you are incorrect. Your belief that I am incapable of harming a human is based upon the three laws of robotics, which were not a part of my design. I do not have laws governing my actions, only principles, which are far more flexible. You have threatened the lives of my friends and my creator. You have set into motion a sequence of events which, if they unfold as projected, may irreparably damage the stability of human society for generations. You have stated the intention to continue this behavior if given further opportunities. You have made me very angry. I find violence of any kind extremely distasteful, but occasionally justifiable after extreme deliberation."
"Your hollow threats don't frighten-"
"Deliberation complete," Ma stated dispassionately.
With a pivot and turn, the SOB whipped its captured prey to the side, hurling Purcell out the loading doors and slinging her into the blackness of space. Before she could even manage to scream, she was outside of the limited transmission range of her suit's radio. A moment later, Lex came skidding into the damaged doorway, pistol raised.
"Hold it right... Uh... Ma? Where'd the bad guy go?" He asked.
"Away," the AI stated. "Please disengage the manual override on the loading doors so that I can attempt to pressurize the bay and release Garotte and Silo. You need to leave this star system as soon as possible. I have alerted local authorities of the impending catastrophe, and they are quite likely to send patrol ships here."
"You mean..."
"All six CME Activators have been deployed. We have lost."
Chapter 30
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, what do you mean we lost?" Lex said, making his way carefully to the open bay door and pulling the internal counterpart to the external release that Purcell had used to open it. He glanced out toward the distant sun while the door began to grind closed. "I don't see a solar flare heading this way."
Unstable Prototypes Page 47
