Warriors

by Nicholas Sansbury Smith

  Brett handed X a blaster.

  “Thanks for coming back for me,” X said. He took the weapon and stood next to the militia soldier, with Miles by his side.

  “It’s okay, boy,” he said. “Stay close.”

  The dog’s tail whipped inside its hazard suit.

  Flashlight beams hit the scrapyard. X scanned the shadows for the enemy forces coming to avenge their leader.

  The wait wasn’t long. Faint silhouettes moved in the scrapyard. Someone launched a flare.

  “Hold your fire!” Magnolia yelled.

  In the flare’s glow, a group of Cazador soldiers strode out. One wore a burned and frayed orange cape.

  General Forge led a group of twenty men, some holding spears, others down to knives. All the blades were bloody. They ran up, then slowed to take in the battlefield.

  Magnolia breathed a sigh of relief and turned to X, smiling.

  But she knew this wasn’t over, and so did X.

  “We have to get back to the Vanguard Islands,” X said. “The killing won’t stop until all the machines are destroyed.”

  FORTY-ONE

  “We found survivors . . .”

  Michael’s radio message was garbled and staticky. Les heard most of it. He also heard the panicked screams in the background.

  It lasted only a few seconds, but those seconds changed everything.

  Fear took his fatigued body hostage as he tried to think what to do. Breaking radio silence could give away his and Sofia’s position behind some metal platforms in a supply yard.

  Since landing on the roof of a low warehouse, they had climbed down but were forced to hide in the maze of construction equipment.

  At either end of the supply yard, a defector stood inside a small metal kiosk that had shielded them from view earlier. Their visors were dark. Normally, they glowed.

  Something was different about their arms, too. Instead of hands, they had sharp blades.

  “Defectors are surrounding . . . can’t escape,” Michael said over the comms. “Must get to the tower.”

  Les tried to make sense of the second part, resisting the urge to ask. But he couldn’t just crouch here and listen.

  He had to do something.

  He hand-signaled his plan to Sofia. She would neutralize the defector at the north entrance of the supply yard, and he would take out the one to the east. They parted, heading opposite directions. He crept between the rows, laser rifle forward, until he got about ten feet from the machine. A pulsing light glowed around the final row of stacked metal platforms.

  Les readied his rifle and moved around the other side to fire a bolt into the machine, which must have heard him coming—it had left the kiosk.

  Hearing a clank behind him, he ducked just as the robot jabbed a blade down at him from atop a stack of metal platforms. The sharp point of the second blade glowed red hot as it grew like an extendable baton.

  Les tried to fire his laser rifle, but the machine jumped down behind him. He dived to avoid the blade, but it punched into his booster. Helium hissed out of the cannister.

  He rolled to his back and fired a bolt, but the defector lay slumped to the side, the skull sizzling with an orange hole through the temple.

  Sofia lowered her laser rifle and reached down to Les.

  “Thanks,” he said. “I owe you one.”

  She followed him out of the supply yard, passing the other defector, which she had fried with a bolt to the battery unit. Les slowed as he walked through a gate that opened to a street. It was the main artery through the base, but there wasn’t much concealment here besides a few trees and clumps of weeds growing in the alleys between buildings.

  The patrols he had seen earlier were gone—it wasn’t hard to guess where to. He tried to get a view of the warehouse where Michael and Arlo had landed. Just as he rounded the corner of a building for a look, the comms hissed again.

  “Factories . . . mainframe . . . You have to get to . . . They have . . .”

  Les retreated behind a fence of weeds growing outside the supply yard. He and Sofia looked out at the egg-colored silos rising over the next block. Their smoke plumes had ceased.

  “The factories house the mainframe?” he whispered.

  “I don’t know,” she said.

  Les slipped deeper into the weeds, using them to get to the side of a building. Stopping at the corner, he sneaked a look down the street to the western edge of the base.

  At the far end of the complex, drones hovered over the multilevel warehouses. Those had to be where Michael and Arlo had discovered the human prisoners.

  “What do we do?” Sofia asked.

  At the creak of robotic joints, he motioned her down. The ground trembled. It wasn’t just drones that Michael and Arlo had drawn to their location.

  Two tanks with segmented legs came from the direction of the factories. Les and Sofia froze as they charged past the weeds.

  After they passed, he raised his head to check them out.

  The weapons turret was built on a central core unit. An orange glow came from small windows in the side that must house the battery unit powering the tank.

  Over the crunching of the massive feet came another mechanical noise.

  Les went down again as four defector units strode after the tanks. Sofia kept her helmet tilted toward him. He couldn’t see her eyes, but they had to be as wide as his.

  He moved his finger to the trigger of his laser rifle, ready to open fire. But they kept marching, the orange glow of their visors receding through the weeds.

  Les watched them head for the warehouse, where another patrol joined them.

  Then another.

  More and more surviving defectors showed up at the warehouse. Some were damaged and missing limbs. Others had soot-darkened exoskeletons. But at least thirty of those surrounding the building looked shiny and new, as if they had come fresh off the assembly line. Those units had the same blades that had almost skewered him in the supply yard.

  Michael and Arlo were not getting out of the warehouse alive unless their captain did something. But what could he do? If he and Sofia tried to help—and there was no guarantee that they could—then they threatened the entire mission.

  There was one possible way to save them, though it would risk their ride home.

  Les took a long, slow breath of filtered air. He had prepared for this to be a one-way trip. The thought of never seeing Phyl and Katherine again hurt his heart worse than a hot knife. But they were the main reason he was here. He would never again let the machines hurt anyone he loved, even though it meant making a difficult decision.

  He turned to the smokestacks again. Could the factories really be housing the mainframe? If so, where did the road into the mountain go?

  Les looked back to the warehouse. What was the right call? Leave Michael and Arlo and try to complete the mission, or try to save them?

  The firepower surrounding the warehouse helped him decide. There was literally nothing he and Sofia could do to help. He could only hope the machines took them captive instead of killing them outright. That would give him a chance to shut the mainframe down and save them.

  Good luck, Tin . . .

  With a heavy heart, Les motioned for Sofia to follow him while they had the chance. Maybe there was a way into the mountain from the factories—a hidden tunnel or passage that Michael had discovered.

  Or maybe the mainframe really was inside.

  The abandoned streets between the buildings on the next block allowed Les to run, and despite her injuries, Sofia managed to keep up. They kept close to buildings and used whatever cover they could find, pressing on until they got to the road between them and the factories.

  Les noticed tracks from humans and machines leading toward closed industrial roll-up doors built into the base of each tower.

 
He checked the left and right side of the road, then nodded at Sofia. Taking point, he led the way to a side door. He didn’t see a handle, keypad, or anything else to provide a way in.

  The hum of the drones would hopefully mask the sound of a laser bolt. He raised his weapon at the door and fired.

  Four shots later, it clicked open. He walked inside with his NVGs on. When his eyes adjusted to the green hue, rows of assembly lines across the long space came into focus.

  Robotic arms had frozen in place. Cranes with grappling hooks hung from tracks on the ceiling, still holding on to parts for DEF-Nine units.

  An entire conveyor belt of metal skulls had stopped. Nothing was operating, not even emergency lights.

  Les hurried past the assembly lines, ignoring the limbs and torsos of the killer machines. The plant was empty, giving him free rein to look for an elevator entrance, a door—anything that might tell him where the mainframe was.

  Moving past boilers, compressor units, and other industrial equipment, he quickly cleared the first section of the main floor. Behind it was a wall—no door or elevator. Nothing.

  Les met Sofia at the other back corner of the lab, where there was a door. He blasted it open and entered a passage with glass walls on either side.

  He bumped off his night vision and turned on his helmet lamp for a better look inside. The beam speared into the dark space on the left, illuminating cages and red eyes.

  Les reared back at the sight.

  “Dear God,” Sofia whispered.

  She joined him behind the glass, her lights raking over cage after cage containing human heads mounted on turrets like the tanks, with multiple thin, spiderlike legs.

  Dozens of human eyes blinked at their beams sweeping over the cages.

  These people were still alive.

  Sofia turned away, gagging inside her helmet. Les stared in horror as mouths opened, trying to communicate. He shined his light down the rows of cages and then on tables with full-length defector bodies minus the heads.

  It didn’t take long to figure out what was happening here.

  “Come on,” he said.

  “Leave them like this?” Sofia stuttered. “This is torture.”

  “We’ll burn this place to the ground after we shut down the mainframe.”

  She hesitated, then followed Les back to the factory floor.

  Halfway across, they heard distant shouts. Then screams. And finally, clicking joints of the machines.

  Les and Sofia dropped as three defectors strode into the room. Their visors emitted red holographic walls that swept over the space, beeping.

  He remained hunched behind a boiler, with Sofia beside him.

  The beeping stopped. Not because the machines were leaving.

  Clicking metal feet echoed across the factory floor. Les motioned for Sofia to flank the machines. She crept around the other side of the boiler.

  He nodded, and they darted around the sides and opened fire.

  The first bolt from his weapon blew through a defector, knocking it to the floor in a fountain of sparks. Sofia dropped a second machine in almost the same instant, sending another shower of sparks through the air. Les turned his gun on the third as it aimed at Sofia.

  A bolt into the visor dropped the machine in a sizzling heap near the one Sofia had destroyed.

  Les looked over at her and gave a sigh of relief as she raised a hand to touch the rivet atop her helmet where the last defector’s shot missed its mark. If Les hadn’t shot the thing at that exact moment . . .

  A vision of Trey swam before his eyes. If the machine had shot a moment earlier, aimed a couple of inches lower, Sofia’s face would be nothing but a glowing hole. His son had died the same way.

  Les hurried over to Sofia and embraced her hard. After a moment, she wrapped her arms around him as well. Without a word, they broke apart, and Les picked up an extra laser rifle from one of the machines.

  It was time to finish this now and save the others.

  To save the entire human race.

  Carrying both weapons, he walked to the downed machines and put a bolt through each metal skull. Then he trained the rifles on the open doorway.

  The shouting intensified as they made their way outside and down the road. From there, Les had a perfect view of the warehouse at the west end of the compound.

  Drones continued to circle like vultures waiting for a meal. The tanks stood outside, weapons angled down at a horde of people.

  A hundred or more people filed out of the building and stood in the dirt. Les started toward them, motioning for Sofia to stay close and hugging the buildings along the way to keep out of sight.

  What he saw seized his breath. People young and old, of all races. Les had never seen such a diverse group.

  Defectors herded the growing crowd away from the warehouse. Two of the machines dragged armored bodies out of the crowd.

  “No,” Les whispered.

  “We have to do something,” Sofia said.

  They stopped behind a cluster of trees growing outside the metal tower with a spiked roof. Hidden by the trees, he watched in the darkness, his mind racing as fast as his heart.

  He had no idea what was happening in Aruba or the Vanguard Islands, and his team was either dead or captured. It was on him to complete the mission by finding the damn mainframe. If he did that, he still might save everyone here and at home.

  The machines herded the prisoners toward the gate. People sobbed, and a group of children wailed as they were separated from the adults. Les spotted a young girl who could have been his own daughter. Another reminder of what was at stake.

  He zoomed his rifle scope in on Michael. There was a reason the transmissions had stopped. Michael was limp like Arlo—either unconscious or dead.

  Les lowered his rifle, his heart breaking. He searched the sky for Discovery. Timothy was up there, awaiting his orders. There was no other choice now. It was time to risk the airship and his position.

  Les bumped on the comms. “Timothy, this is Captain Mitchells. Do you copy?”

  The response was almost instant.

  “Copy you, sir.”

  “You got anything up there left to fire?”

  “We are down to ten percent of our ammunition, sir.”

  “I want you to use most of that on those cannons outside the base,” Les said. “Once they’re destroyed, fly low and fast and take out the drones, then the tanks. We’ll deal with the individual machines.”

  “Aye, aye, sir.”

  “Drop off all civilians before you come in. Food and supplies, too, just in case.”

  “Already done, sir. Only one person is on the ship with me.”

  Another voice came in over the comms. “Captain, this is Samson. I’m staying with Timothy. He’s going to need a copilot.”

  Les wasn’t surprised. He was one of only a few people besides X who knew the truth about Samson’s cough. His fate would be the same as Captain Maria Ash’s: throat cancer. But it had spread to his lungs. Not even the ITC cancer medicine could save Samson now.

  “We got your back, boss,” he rasped.

  “You’re sure about this?” Les asked.

  “Hey, I always wanted to be a Hell Diver but was a bit heavy for the old launch tubes. I guess this is as close as I’ll get. Good luck, Captain.”

  “You too,” Les replied. “And, Timothy?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Give these AI assholes hell, my friend.”

  “You may count on that, Captain.”

  The channel closed, and Les opened a private one with Edgar and Lena.

  “It’s on us now,” he said. “When Discovery comes in, start shooting the DEF-Nine units to give the prisoners a chance to run. I’ll try to find the mainframe and end this.”

  “Roger that, Cap,” Edgar said.
“Stay safe.”

  “You too.”

  With the division of prisoners complete, the gates were opening. Two machines dragged Michael and Arlo by their feet while six others with laser rifles marched most of the men outside. The rest of the machines guarded the other prisoners. The women and children were sobbing and screaming for fathers and brothers.

  It was clear what was about to happen.

  Les turned to Sofia, handing her one of the laser rifles. “Stay here under cover and take out as many of those bastards as you can.”

  “What about you?”

  “I have to shut down that mainframe.”

  As the prisoners were corralled toward the gates, Michael suddenly broke free from the two machines dragging him. He got up and swung with his robotic hand, shattering a defector’s visor. The other raised its laser rifle.

  Les and Sofia both aimed their rifles but before they could fire, the defector staggered sideways, sparks flying off its head.

  A gunshot rang out in the distance. Edgar had taken the perfect shot.

  “Good luck,” Les said.

  “You too,” Sofia replied.

  Two drones rocketed away from the warehouse as Les set off on his own. Lena opened fire with her laser rifle, and Edgar fired another high-­velocity round, hitting a defector in the chest.

  Les heard the electronic chatter of the laser rifle behind him as Sofia laid into the six defectors herding the men through the open gate.

  Screaming and wailing rang out from the crowd as the chaos spread.

  A voice surged over the comm channel. “The mainframe is in the main tower!” Michael said.

  Les glanced up at the black tower he had just left. The spike at the top flashed orders to other drones rising into the sky. A squadron of the bots blasted away through the darkness to find Discovery.

  Timothy was ready. Explosions burst across the dark clouds over the mountain. Waves of tracer rounds from the airship’s twenty-millimeter guns raked back and forth. Orange bursts illuminated the snowcapped crest of Kilimanjaro. The drones that had taken to the sky rained down as bits of shrapnel.

  A moment later, Discovery exploded out of the cloud cover. Its reinforced bow slammed into a drone, splattering it like a bug on a windscreen.