Michella cautiously poked her head out again. “Lex says get inside, he’s going to have to use the main thrusters and land with the wings.”
Silo looked to the stubby triangular panels sticking out from the top of the roof on either side of the ship. “Those things work?”
“Let’s hope so. But it’s going to take speed, so you’re not going to last long on the roof.”
The rear engines flared, but there was a sickly sound to them, the glow anemic and sputtering. Silo and Garotte made their way back through the door with some difficulty, the wind already whistling in their ears by the time they were able to slip through. Silo leaned back out and watched as the assembled mass of robots scrambled after them. The speed of the ship was enough to put some space between them, particularly thanks to the muddy ground of the open field. She took the momentary respite from attacks to reload her shotgun.
“Getting low on shotgun shells. When they’re gone we’re down to energy weapons, a few ballistic pistols with spare rounds, some grenades, and the stuff we stole from the Luddites. I told you we should have restocked before we came here.”
“Yes, yes. You’ll pardon me if I ask that we set the usual ordnance lecture aside until we are finished crash landing,” Garotte said, rushing into the cockpit.
Lex was pulling hard at the controls, reacting to every shift and shimmy of the ship with a corresponding maneuver to keep it from falling out of the sky. Every warning and indicator on the panel before him screamed for his attention.
“Lex, my boy, we can’t land. Those things will slice us to ribbons,” Garotte said.
“We don’t really have a choice. If we try using thrusters alone, we’ll invert and crater. I can’t even cut power entirely and glide in because one bank of thrusters isn’t responding at all. The control valve must be locked open somehow.” Something outside the vessel burst, and the whole ship tipped forty-five degrees to port. “Oh, good. It finally blew out. We might actually manage a conventional landing.”
He fought the ship back to roughly level flight.
“Can’t you get us to a safe distance before landing?”
Lex pointed to one of the larger warnings on the control panel. It said “Reactor Breach.”
“We’ve got a hole in one of the reactor feed lines. If I don’t shut it down in the next sixty seconds, we’re going to start venting helium at stellar temperatures. In the best case, it’ll blow half of the hull apart. In the worst case, we’ll be breathing that stuff.”
“There’s a horde of bloodthirsty robots following us.”
A new warning pierced the air and the ship shook.
“Let’s call the robots the next problem. I’m landing. Right now. It’s not me making this decision, it’s Newton.” The ship pitched downward, accompanied by the sound of screeching metal. “You’re gonna want to get strapped in. This won’t be one of my better landings.”
Garotte jumped into the navigator’s seat and cinched down the harness.
“Have you ever done an unpowered glider landing?” Garotte asked.
“In a simulator… well. Not really a simulator. More of a video game.”
Garotte analyzed Lex’s expression for some sign that he was joking. Finding none, he gave the safety restraints an extra pull and turned to the others. “Brace for impact. We’re coming down hard.”
In the cargo compartment, Silo moved quickly to the seat on the far side of Saunders, flipped it down, and strapped herself in. She then leaned over and pulled down a few extra straps to secure the still-reclined Saunders. Michella took Squee from Dreyfus and tightened his straps. The ship’s descent was picking up speed by the time she strapped herself in. She recalled the camera, ran a strap through one of the grips, then hugged Squee tight and closed her eyes. The little creature was terrified, cuddled close and heart drumming in its chest. Her eyes were turned to the open cockpit door, straining to see Lex as he coaxed the ship into a shallower descent.
The pilot wore an intense but oddly serene look. Systems were failing one after another, the precision damage caused by the rogue core and the attempts to remove it sending chain reactions through the ship. The Declaration was designed to be uncommonly robust, a military ship at its core. This provided redundant mechanical connections to some of the key landing systems and left Lex with at least some control as the ship continued to fail. The power system, pushed to the limit, tripped a final failsafe and completely shut down.
Chaotic bleeping and the sickly thunder of the engine dropped away until there was only the whistle of wind and the creak of the hull. The Declaration had no windows beyond those in the cockpit, but the open crew door treated the passengers to a view of the quickly approaching ground sliding by beneath them at a worrying speed. If this had been an aircraft, the descent might have been a calm and orderly one, but it was a spacecraft. Little thought had been put into aerodynamics. The fact it could perform an unpowered landing at all was a stroke of the greatest luck. Stable flight was too much to ask for. Lex’s hands and feet were in constant motion, twisting and tugging the control sticks and utilizing emergency rudder pedals that had likely never been used.
Lex began to list off mental checkpoints. He was speaking to himself, echoing rules from some manual or instructor from his past. “Aim for soft ground… Hit shallow… Long axis… Landing struts up… Stay level… Don’t flip…” He took a deep breath and spoke up, now to everyone. “Impact in five… four… three…”
The Declaration struck the wet, muddy surface of the sprawling marshland. The splash sent a wave of muck into the air and rocked the ship viciously forward. Red and black sparks flashed behind Lex’s eyes, but he managed to stay focused. The ship lurched back up into the air. There was a moment of hang time, offering a brief opportunity to guide its flight. The ship struck again and went into a slide. Lex and the others were thrust forward against their restraints. Mud flecked against the windshield and splashed through the door. Just as the skidding trip was coming to an end, the belly of the ship struck something solid, heaving itself onto a dry bank of sandy white ground. After another few meters of sliding, the ship came to a stop, astoundingly in one piece. Lex leaned back into the chair, stress in his expression and his hand on his throat.
Garotte shook off the disorientation of the landing, then began to fiddle with his harness. “Is everyone all right back there?”
“A few bumps and bruises, but intact,” Silo called back.
“Lex, my boy! That was one hell of a landing!” Garotte said.
“I think I swallowed my gum.” He looked more unsettled now than he had during the crash.
“We all face hardships in this line of work,” Garotte said, slapping Lex on the back. “Any chance you can get this back in the air?”
“I’m not a mechanic. If the reactor is shot, you’ll need someone better than me to get it started again. If it’s still good, I might be able to get it in the air with some fiddling, but it would take me at least an hour.”
“In an hour I could get this airborne again. On your feet, there’s an army of murderous robots headed this way. We need fingers on triggers.”
Lex unhooked his harness and followed as Garotte rushed into the cargo compartment. A few cabinets had been broken open by the rough landing. Dreyfus was massaging a sore spot on his head where a piece of the broken hoverbike had struck him. Silo was already on her feet, pulling open cabinets and loading every weapon she could get her hands on. Chief Saunders was painfully undoing her own straps and eyeing the weaponry being prepared by Silo. Michella looked shaken but unharmed.
“Mitch, are you okay?” Lex asked, rushing to her.
Squee wriggled out of Michella’s grip and hurled herself at Lex, lavishing him with kisses and then scrambling to his neck as though it was the only safe place in the world. Michella cupped her head and took a moment to get her bearings, then unhooked her harness and threw her arms around him, planting a long, desperate kiss of her own on his lips.
“Did
I do good?” he asked, when she finally broke the kiss.
“You did so good, baby,” she breathed.
“Pardon me. I do hate to interrupt, but once again, murderous robots,” Garotte warned.
Silo had gathered up an assortment of weapons and was handing them out to those she felt could handle them. Dreyfus, Michella, and Lex received pistols, energy for the two former and ballistic for the latter. Saunders received her heavy rifle back, along with a fresh clip of the appropriate size from the Declaration’s stock. Silo chose her grenade launcher, a freshly reloaded shotgun, and two heavy ballistic pistols for herself. Garotte kept his plasma automatic and selected a sniper rifle nearly as tall as he was.
“Give them the briefing, my dear. I’ll get range estimates and start softening them up,” Garotte said. He dashed out the door and climbed to the roof.
“Okay. Saunders, you don’t need to hear this. For the rest of you, we’ll be using modified group combat tactics. We are thoroughly outnumbered, but that favors the inexperienced marksman, because you’ll be firing into a crowd. Time and ammunition are our enemies.” She raised her voice. “Range, sweetheart!”
“Four hundred meters and closing. ETA ninety seconds.”
“When they hit two hundred meters, Garotte will start shooting. Saunders, you think you can manage a steady shot with that thing?”
“If I’m going to die, I’m going to die shooting.”
“We’ll get you outside in a minute. When Garotte gives the word, you’re going to start firing from the outside edges of the mob inward. Aim for center mass and try to corral them toward the center. Whatever you do, don’t let them flank us. I’ll use grenades on concentrations until they are too close for safe grenade deployment. At that time, free-fire until your clips are empty.”
“What are our chances?” Michella asked, trading her energy pistol for Lex’s conventional one.
“At wiping them out? Not great. You sure you’re going to be able to handle the recoil on that, hon? It’s one of mine. Kicks like a mule,” Silo said.
“It’s been a while, but I’ll be able to handle it better than Lex will,” she said, eyeing the sleek, silvery pistol.
“You will?” Lex said.
“I’ve spent a lot of time on the shooting range. It’s a long story I’d rather not tell.”
“Certainly no time now. We’re going to set up outside with the ship to our backs. When I give the word, we pull back to inside the ship. Lex, you bring Dreyfus, Michella, you bring Saunders. Does everyone understand what they’re doing? Any questions?”
“Yeah, wasn’t the military supposed to be on their way?” Lex asked.
Saunders pulled herself painfully upright. “If there were any worthwhile soldiers on this planet, I’d still have my security team and these robots never would have been a problem. We’ve never done a lockdown drill that took them less than a half hour to arrive. If you’re hoping for help from the cavalry, don’t hold your breath.”
“If we couldn’t beat them in a closed space with twenty people, how are we going to survive now?” Dreyfus asked.
“If they get close, I’ve got a few last-ditch plans, so don’t go doing anything stupid like taking the coward’s way out. This isn’t over until it’s over.”
“What’s Plan B?” Michella asked.
“Officially there is no Plan B.”
“But you just said—”
Garotte called out from the roof. “There is no Plan B because it undermines confidence in Plan A. Now get to your places everyone! Plan A starts right now!”
He fired off a shot while the others scrambled out. Silo and Lex did their best to place the barely stabilized security chief in a position to fire, then helped Dr. Dreyfus into position. By the time he was situated, Saunders was already firing. Lex looked to the marsh behind the ship.
It was difficult to see the approaching robots in the moonlight. They were low to the ground already, and the soggy ground was particularly ill-suited for their thin, spidery legs. Nonetheless they moved with startling speed. In mud that would swallow a person to the knee with every step, they were moving at what would be a slow run on dry land. Every few seconds, Garotte fired off another shot from his scoped rifle, and in the distance was a spark and flare of damaged machinery. Saunders’s shots were a bit less controlled, spraying across the fringe of the approaching mob, but she hit more than she missed. Silo started firing next, a pistol in each hand.
The robots drew closer, heedless of the weapon fire that was picking them off. They were near enough to hear the churning of their legs before Michella began firing. Lex marveled for a moment. He wasn’t in a position to watch her fire during the escape, but now that he could see her work, it was clear that it wasn’t her first time handling a gun. She held it confidently, lining up each shot, recovering from the recoil quickly, and lining up to fire again. Her shots were mixed with those of Saunders, working in from the opposite side of Silo, but it was clear that she was nearly as accurate as the chief. He would have to find out more about these trips to the firing range when the excitement was over.
“I don’t understand why they are so vigorously targeting us. The ship is powered down. There shouldn’t be any significant radio transmission or power readings. Certainly not enough to draw them in from this range,” Dreyfus said shakily, trying to grasp the situation in the only way he knew how.
“Now’s not a thinking time, Doc. Now’s a shooting time,” Lex said.
Lex raised his own weapon and began to fire. He—apparently unlike Michella—hadn’t spent any time at the firing range. He’d spent a few hours shooting at video screens and holograms, but shooters had never been his genre. Half a dozen shots missed high before he finally found his target and started chipping away at them. Dreyfus was the last to start firing, not making much of an impact when he did.
“Keep the fire on the outsides!” Silo cried over the shots. She holstered the pistols and deployed the grenade launcher.
The demolition expert wielded the weapon like a scalpel. Three pulls of the trigger sent grenades on three precisely aimed arcs. The grenades detonated just above the mob, tearing the nearest bots to pieces and perforating dozens more with shrapnel. Instantly the behavior of the swarm shifted. Their monomaniacal rush toward the ship halted. For a fraction of a second they were perfectly still, then the intact robots turned upon the damaged ones, crawling over one another to devour the malfunctioning among them.
“What in the world?” Michella said, halting her fire for a moment.
“Yes… yes of course!” Dreyfus said. “If they preferentially target components with high replacement value, then damaged or inactive cores must be the most preferable. Pieces… pieces of the robots entered the ship with us. Perhaps…”
“Later, Doc!” Silo pumped three more rounds into the crowd of robots, now that it had reclustered over the heap of damaged ones.
“We damaged plenty of them during the escape. Why didn’t they stop to repair those?” Michella asked, her curiosity stronger than Silo’s.
“They probably did,” Dreyfus answered, “but there were so many that the ones that harvested weren’t missed, so—”
“I believe Lex made an excellent argument regarding the comparative merits of thinking and shooting at this point in time,” Garotte scolded, abandoning his sniper rifle and spraying the robots with shots from the automatic.
Silo and the others kept up the weapon fire until she was out of explosives. One by one the others began to run low on ammunition. The ballistic weapons were emptied first, then a few of the energy weapons. Their attackers had entirely ceased the advance, though only about thirty meters out.
“Stop shooting for a moment, let’s get an assessment,” Garotte said from his position on the roof. He hopped down to his belly and looked through the scope of the sniper rifle. “Less than twenty in motion. No… maybe more. There’s some motion deep in the mound.”
“If there is even one core functional, it will
duplicate in less than a minute. We have to wipe them all out,” Dreyfus said.
“We don’t have the firepower left to be sure at this distance,” Silo said. She checked the ammo in her weapons. “I’m going on foot. Up close I might be able to finish the job.”
“Don’t bother with the heroics,” Garotte said, shifting his aim toward motion farther along on the horizon. “Do you remember the force we wiped out back at the mines?”
“Yes,” said Silo.
“It is considerably less wiped out now. Looks to be about two-thirds of the robots, on their way here.”
“ETA?”
“Hard to say. More than twenty minutes, perhaps, but without a functional ship, they’ll catch us before we can get to anything defensible.”
Silo looked back to the pile of damaged robots. It was obvious even without a scope that there were far more than twenty in motion now. Worse, the first of them had begun to pull away from the group and head toward them. Garotte and Silo tried to pick them off, and Michella took the gun from Dreyfus to pitch in, but more and more were peeling from the mound of damaged machinery until they were coming in a steady flow. The rattling of their steps and the sizzle of their torches filled the air. Silo abandoned precision weapons and pulled out the shotgun, pumping shells into the flow of attackers.
“Get Saunders and Dreyfus inside, now!” she said.
Michella and Lex burst into action, favoring speed over gentleness. Constant fire from the others slowed the advance, but only slightly. By the time Dreyfus and Saunders were safely inside, the first of the robots had begun to slice into the hull of the Declaration. Silo, alone on the ground, was nearly surrounded.
“Cover!” she called out, firing her last shell.
Garotte leaped down from the roof of the ship and held down the trigger of his plasma automatic, beating back the nearest of the robots. Silo took the precious moment of safety to pull a peculiar cylinder from her belt, twist its top, and hurl it straight up into the air. While it was still on its way up, she pulled her twin pistols and tried to blast the nearest robot, but it was too close, slashing the weapon from her left hand and gashing her arm with one of its legs. She cried out in anger and pain and thrust her boot at the thing, knocking it back. One of the robots behind it leaped into the air at the same moment the cylinder crested and released a faint pop and flash.
Artificial Evolution Page 20
