The Unborn

by Brian Herbert

  ~~~

  Meredith and Riggio stepped out of the landed airspeeder, onto the main floor of the sprawling factory. This put them in the midst of fast-moving assembly lines that were not as loud as might be expected from all this activity, due to white-noise systems that dampened the racket, sending sounds into absorbent technology.

  The facility had already been relatively quiet the first time she inspected it the year before, indicating that management was paying attention to the audio health of the human workers, while also seeking to avoid distractions that might cause on-the-job accidents. Now she saw an equal number of human and robotic workers, tending to work stations on the assembly line. Tiers of additional assembly lines rose overhead, as maximum usage was made of vertical spaces. This facility custom designed, constructed and exported thousands of robots every year, all around the solar system.

  A short man in a business suit approached from across the floor, walking at a brisk pace. He was accompanied by two taller men in black and yellow uniforms. The man in the suit had dark skin and a neatly-trimmed black beard. She recognized him as the assistant manager from her last visit, Erik Kaster, one of the owner’s sons.

  “Hello, Ms. Lamour,” Erik Kaster said, smiling. “I’m the manager now. Got a promotion when my brother Liem was put in charge of our munitions manufacturing operations.” He nodded in the direction of another Kaster family factory, adjacent to this one. She and Lars Johansen had inspected it the year before.

  “It helps that your father runs the government here,” Meredith said, to Kaster.

  She glanced at Riggio, having already briefed him on the political situation on this moon. Erik and Liem’s father, Harrison Kaster, was a dictator-businessman who took this moon a decade ago in a bloody military coup, supplanting the previous version of himself. All the domed moonlets of Saturn, and portions of the larger moons as well, were run by petty tyrants who ran police states, a patchwork of despots who were successful businessmen, exporting their products all over the solar system. Many of them specialized in military and industrial products, such as Kaster Manufacturing.

  Erik Kaster looked hurt by her comment. “My dad’s position only means I have to work harder.”

  “I’m sure that’s true,” she said. She wasn’t afraid of the Kasters. There were interspace treaties that prevented even petty tyrants from abusing visitors—or there would be sever repercussions from the even more powerful military forces on Earth and Jupiter.

  “Where’s Johansen?” he asked.

  “The rigors of space travel finally got to him. He’s all right, but doesn’t want to use click chambers anymore.”

  “That’s understandable. I don’t like them myself, even though I’m a lot younger than he is. Most of the time I just stay around here.”

  He led the way toward a semi-automated line on the main floor, with twenty stations beside a conveyor belt, stations that were manned by men and women in white coverall uniforms. One robot was on each line at a time, and at the numbered work stations the conveyor stopped, so that modular parts could be installed, and adjustments made.

  Kaster said that utility robots were being constructed here, silver units that he explained were for a variety of purposes. “The ones on this line are being sent to impoverished regions on Earth, bringing the people simple technology, such as generators, flashlights, and wave-phones. Some of them are programmed to instruct people in modern agricultural methods, and methods of cleanliness and disease prevention.”

  “Do they also provide Bibles to the people?” Riggio asked. “I mean, is this a Christian thing?” When Kaster looked at him, appearing to be annoyed, Riggio shrugged and said, “Just something I heard.”

  Now Kaster chuckled. “Our robots are strictly secular—they won’t distribute Bibles or any other religious texts, and no other paraphernalia, either.”

  He led the way to a specialized line, where advanced combat robots were being constructed, gleaming black units with weapons bristling all over their bodies.

  “I don’t see automatic shutdown systems on these lines,” Meredith said to Kaster, noticing that it was not in place.

  “We’re taking care of that right now,” he said. “I’ve ordered the retrofit, and it’s scheduled for next month.”

  “All right, I’ll inform your insurance carrier.”

  She made a note on an electronic notepad, didn’t say anything more. But he was supposed to have completed it six months ago.

  Led by Kaster, they walked from station to station, with Meredith and Riggio pointing scanners at key areas of the production machinery, and taking readings, which were transmitted into Meredith’s e-pad.

  After two hours, they were standing by another combat robot line, where Meredith said to Kaster, “Overall, your facility looks pretty good. I’ll have some recommendations, of course, including that missing shutdown system, but I’m pleased to see that you’ve recharged the central fire suppression system, and that you’re keeping good records of everything.”

  “Just recharged last week,” Kaster said.

  She grinned. “Because you knew I was coming?”

  “No! You’ve seen the detailed safety records we keep.”

  “Yes, I have, and it’s an improvement over last year.”

  “Enough to remove the rating surcharge, cut my insurance premium?”

  “I think so, or at least some of the surcharge. There are inherent hazards to manufacturing operations in remote space locations such as this one.”

  “We’re not in Kansas anymore,” he said.

  “Far from it. Millions and millions of miles.”

  They were about to follow Kaster to the lunchroom for a tea break, when she noticed Riggio studying one of the gleaming black robots near the end of an assembly line, where the line had been halted and the ominous fighting machine was being checked by a female employee. She was using a green-laser device on the end of a long cable to adjust the upper-body guns.

  Then Riggio pointed one of the hand-held scanners at the ‘bot and ran a blue light over it.

  “Say, what are you doing there?” Kaster asked him.

  “Turn it off,” Meredith said. “The insurance carriers don’t require us to scan the products being manufactured here. We just inspect the facility, not the products.”

  “Not even if they’re armed and dangerous?” Riggio asked. “You might be interested to know, I am picking up an abnormality in that particular robot.”

  “What?” Meredith read the scan screen, saw that he was right. Of the four screens, one was registering in the red range, indicating a potential, dangerous malfunction. She explained the reading to Kaster.

  “It still has to pass through another quality control station before it’s certified,” Kaster said, as the conveyor belt went back on and the robot was carried away. “Don’t worry about it.”

  “We’re not worried,” Meredith said, “and neither is the insurance carrier. Damage to products is excluded.”

  “So is damage caused by Kaster products,” Riggio said. “Due to the nature of the risk, the insurance company issued a products liability exclusion.”

  Impressed that he had knew this coverage detail, she smiled. “My assistant is right.”

  They followed Kaster to the lunchroom, and were about to enter when alarm klaxons and sirens went off. “Sector seven,” a female voice announced over the com-system. “We can’t control the robots! Hundreds of them are shooting, and—” The voice went silent.

  Meredith heard explosions, and gunfire.

  “I wish I wasn’t right about that robot,” Riggio said.

  “I wish you weren’t, too,” Kaster said. “We’d better get into a safe room until this is over.”

  He ran down the corridor and descended a spiral stairway, heading for the lower levels. Meredith and Riggio left their scanners behind and followed.

  “Has this happened before?” Meredith asked, as they followed Kaster down, passing several levels. She saw other spiral s
taircases, with more workers on them, all descending, all scrambling for their lives. Some people were injured and bleeding, and were being helped by others.

  “Previously, no more than one unit has gotten loose at a time, nothing like this.”

  They reached the bottom level, and he hurried them to a large room with a vault-thick door. Perhaps forty other people streamed in, including the injured, and finally Kaster ordered the door shut, sealing them all inside. Meredith had not been here before, but knew from seeing the plans of the factory that several safe rooms existed.

  One wall was covered with a bank of illuminated, closed-circuit screens, showing the sectors of the manufacturing facility. The images were live, and Meredith saw the shiny black robots marching forward, shooting anyone in range, blasting holes in walls and doors. They entered every corridor, and gradually they took up positions, all over the factory.

  “This is really odd,” Kaster said. “It looks coordinated, a coordinated attack.”

  On several screens, Meredith also saw uniformed soldiers surging onto the main floor of the factory. They wore red and gold uniforms. “What the hell?” Kaster said. “I don’t recognize the uniforms; these are not my father’s forces.”

  ~~~

  Seeing the carnage out in the factory, the gunfire and the torn-apart, bleeding bodies on the main floor and up in the tiers, Riggio felt an unexpected sense of pleasure. Then he caught himself, knowing he should not feel that way.

  Yet he knew he had seen bodies before, many of them, and didn’t know how they had all died, only how some had been killed... and that all had deserved to die... at least the ones in his memory. And he didn’t know why.

  Something more surfaced in his mind. All of the bodies in his checkered memory had been women.

  ~~~

  On the screens, Meredith saw the soldiers form into ranks on two sides of the factory floor. When this was accomplished, a group of officers entered through the main entrance and marched between the rows of soldiers. A tall, elderly officer with a thick black mustache led them. His collar gleamed with the emblem of his rank, but there were no medals on his chest. It was the same with his companions. These were combat uniforms, not dress uniforms.

  The old man paused, and raised his hands in the air. He began to speak, and his words were transmitted to all of the safe rooms. “I am General Gar Neron,” he said, “and I have taken control of this factory and the munitions facility next door. This is our first landing point on the moon. As I speak, my troops are swarming over the rest of the moon, taking control. The House of Kaster has fallen... here, and elsewhere.”

  Erik Kaster muttered an epithet, then said, “General? I never heard that part before, so it must be self-proclaimed. I thought Neron was just an aggressive business competitor, running military and robotics operations on two other moons.”

  “I know you’re in one of the safe rooms, Erik,” General Neron transmitted. “Either come out, or we’ll go down there and break all the doors down.”

  On the screen Meredith saw two men brought forward, under restraint by guards. One of the captives was older, with long gray hair, while the other was younger. Meredith recognized both of them.

  Erik Kaster said, “They’ve got my father and brother!”

  He slammed a fist down on the console, and added in a bitter tone, “You might as well cancel our commercial insurance, Meredith. We don’t own this place anymore.”

  CHAPTER 22

  At midday, all the people in the safe rooms were ordered to the factory auditorium, where General Neron stood on the stage with his officers and an armed guard, all in full military regalia, with battle ribbons and medals. Other company employees were in the audience as well, along with Harrison Kaster and his eldest son, Liem, who were told to sit in the front row, along with Erik.

  The General, sell-proclaimed or not, was tall and severe-looking, with pale blue eyes that seemed to drink up all the details around him. He called out names, starting with the previous owners. They were ordered to stand up.

  “Harrison, Liem, and Erik Kaster,” the General said, “You and all of your family members are hereby banished from this moon, which I have renamed Neron 3. If you are ever seen here again, or on any other property I own, you will be summarily executed.”

  He waved a hand dismissively, and they were escorted roughly out of the auditorium. Just before they reached the main door, General Neron’s voice boomed through the auditorium, as he said, “You have twenty-four hours to leave.”

  Neron then went through the employees, including the managers who were not in the family. All were offered new jobs under his ownership, and a majority of them accepted. Any exceptions were ordered to leave within twenty-four hours.

  Meredith and Riggio had to wait until the end, along with other visitors, because their names were not on any employee lists. Finally, the two of them were told to stand, first among perhaps twenty other visitors, to explain why they were on the premises. Before speaking, they were commanded to hand over identification documents, which they did. A guard took them up to Neron, who looked them over, scowling.

  Meredith spoke for both of them, saying, “I am a risk manager, and this is my assistant. We work for the Johansen Agency in Seattle, on Earth. The Kasters are—or, I should say, were—our clients for risk-management advice, as well as insurance coverage.”

  “Is that right?” Neron said. “If what you say is true, I will apologize to both of you for the inconvenience.” He smiled in an attempt to appear kindly. But Meredith saw something false there, and cruel. He bore ominous similarities to the former dictator Harrison Kaster, whom she had met twice before.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  He handed the documents to an aide, who looked at them and made entries into a transmitter. She had not seen them do that with the employees, or with Erik Kaster, suggesting that they’d already done it earlier.

  “While we’re waiting for more information on both of you,” he said, looking at Meredith, “I’d like to chat with you about risk-management and insurance. Whatever the Kasters had, I shall want. Same rates and coverage. On second thought, I want lower rates and better insurance coverage. My businesses are better run than the Kasters’ were.”

  He glanced at his officers, and all of them chuckled.

  “I’m sure that’s true,” Meredith said, “but we would have to start over. Insurance is a very personal matter, and the insurance company will have to underwrite you, and reinspect anything you want insured. We would have to go back to square one.”

  He looked displeased. “You can’t just transfer the insurance to me? I’m good for the premium. I have lots of money. In fact, if I decide to do business with you, I could prepay everything today.”

  “No, I’m sorry, General but that is not possible.” Still, she thought to herself that one dictator was probably no worse than another. This business coup was how they transferred ownership among themselves, through military posturing or force of arms. She’d heard of it before with Johansen’s clients, but had never been caught in the middle of a military takeover. It had not been much of a confrontation; Kaster’s forces seemed to have fallen quickly, but she wanted to leave as soon as possible. This was an unstable situation, and there might be fighting in the coming days, if the Kasters and their company forces tried to return.

  “Don’t they know who I am? Does the insurance company have its head up its ass?”

  “Sir, I know you are a very important person, and you have plenty of money. But even for King Midas we would need to start over and do a new application. When I get back to my office I’ll contact the insurance carrier and obtain the application they require. I’ll then click-chamber it to you.”

  “If I decide to do business with you,” he reminded her.

  She nodded, trying to show as much respect as possible. Neron struck her as being a little unhinged, and unpredictable, as well as dangerous. “But you will look into it for me?” General Neron asked.

&nbs
p; “Of course,” Meredith said. “But it will take some time.” She paused. “I must also inform you that the previous insurance is no longer in force at this moment, because there is no insurable interest on the part of the Kasters. They no longer own anything to insure. You are the new owner.”

  He grunted something in displeasure.

  Meredith watched as the aide showed him a virtual reality screen, perhaps with information on her and Riggio. Neron and the aide conversed in low tones.

  Then the General looked sternly at Riggio and said, “There are certain irregularities in your documents.”

  “What do you mean?” Riggio asked.

  “Your Social Security number for one. Prior to the job you have now you seem to have no employment history whatsoever, but you are almost thirty years old. What are you, a princeling with a trust fund?”

  Again he looked at his officers, and all of them chuckled.

  But Neron’s smile had been short-lived, and he asked Riggio, in a dark tone, “Or are you a spy?”

  “No, sir!”

  Meredith could make no sense of this. Why would Neron be concerned about someone who could be a spy, when he had not even owned this moon until a short while ago? If Riggio was a spy, he would have been spying on the prior owner.

  She was about to put this into words when Neron looked at her and said, “There are other irregularities in this man’s documents, including unknown parentage, unknown schooling, and more. It means that further investigation will be required before either one of you can be released. You and your assistant will be my guests at the Saturnia Hotel—which I own now—until this matter is cleared up to my satisfaction.”

  “My boss did not authorize that in my schedule, or my expense account,” she said. “We planned to finish up with this inspection and leave on the next outbound click chamber. Besides, my assistant could not possibly be a spy, and even if he was, he would have not have been spying on you.”

  “I don’t like any sort of spy,” Neron said, “not unless I have hired them myself.” He laughed, and his sycophantic officers followed suit.