She felt no fear and simply moved along. She was more interested in delegating processing power to solving the riddle of how Delilah Silver disabled the small robots acting as human Sheila’s protection, triggering that tumble.
She didn’t know if any others aboard knew the secret. With Delilah Silver dead, perhaps such fears were unwarranted, whether one could feel fear or not.
She listened to the idle, random chatter from Mary and John, both of whom reported that the “vibe” of the residents was one of tension, apprehension, and worry, with occasional smatterings of pride at the successful completion of the major project just completed. She could sense nothing of the sort, but reasoned that the negative emotions were due to the chaotic destruction triggered by unknown parties and means, and a concern that, with those phenomena left unexplained, that more such attacks could be forthcoming without warning. In a time when they ought to be celebrating the commencement of the terraforming projects across the planet and the imminent safe return to a cleansed, disease-free surface, they feared dying suddenly, without warning, without explanation.
They were right to be afraid. She was back, moving undetected once again, moving without fear of injury or dying. She knew more now than she had during her last visit.
And she’d brought friends with her, with more yet to arrive.
While those other friends made their way here, she’d occupy her time wresting control of the Ravager-coded nanobots still controlled by a server in Delilah Silver’s hidden command room.
As she reached the door that blocked exterior access to Delilah’s quarters, her robotic brain assessed the situation. She would need to open the door to enter the room. A forceful entry through the wall would draw attention. Opening the door could draw attention; she would need to do so only at a time when other humans were not within visible range of the door. Her memories suggested an electronic security system controlling the door’s locking mechanism. She needed to disable the locking mechanism.
But how?
She could hack into the security system and trick it into thinking Delilah had requested access to her room. That shouldn’t work; the security system had certainly been informed of Delilah’s death, and any detection of apparent activity should trigger alerts and suspicion. That wasn’t acceptable; she’d put her friends at risk, even if she managed to enter and exit the room before human security forces arrived to investigate. They might not find anyone inside, but everyone would be alerted of impending action before they were ready to start their assault.
No, that wasn’t a good option.
She considered a different option, one availing herself of her robotic skills and the nano swarm. She slid the nanos under the door and into the room beyond, reading the transmitted data. The data suggested she’d caught a break. Rooms had physical locks as well as the electronic version, which allowed access to quarters through the use of a physical key. Data searches for reasoning suggested that room residents might not want to use the electronic system at all times as it provided a record of when they entered and exited their rooms. The key system also allowed room owners to give others access without the need of the necessary biometrics and electronic keys.
Whatever the reason, the electronic locks were not engaged on Delilah’s room. Just the physical lock. She could unlock the door from the inside and enter without remote detection. Moments later, she’d done just that and shut the door behind her. She pushed the physical lock to the locked position.
She scanned her memories of Delilah’s quarters for any data that might raise concern. The room had been reasonably neat and tidy in her last visit; now, clothes and papers were strewn about on the furniture, tables, and floors. Someone had been in this room after Delilah and human Sheila commenced their fateful journey. That likely explained why they’d used the physical lock.
It also meant somebody might come back. She’d need to hurry.
She moved to the command center entry wall, and opted to eschew subtlety. She used her metallic body and the nano tool-creation ability to slice into and through the wall, then smashed through the remnants. She let all of the nanos under her control dissolve back into dispersed mode before striding into the command room.
The video input units mounted on the front of her face scanned the room, settling upon a screen displaying a map of Eastern territory. Shading, showing the extent of the Ravager surge according to the legend on the screen, spread over the great landmasses comprising the East’s holdings. Many of the cityplexes labeled on the screen were undoubtedly razed into nothingness; only one small cityplex stood out as uncovered at this point.
Sheila wasn’t concerned about any of that on an emotional level. She just had a job to do.
She traced the screen’s data input cable back to the applicable server and turned the machine around. After removing the right hand from her body, she used the cabling inside to connect directly to an input port. Her robotic mind had no issue gaining access, finding the control host entry, and modifying it to switch direct control to her robotic brain, with the machine on Eden serving as the backup. She then ceased the Ravager advance, pushing out the generic code package found in her nano swarm. If someone realized what she’d done and switched control back, they’d still have impotent Ravagers at their command.
She disconnected the cable and reattached her wrist to her body. Mission accomplished. Now, she had to—
She’d nearly reached the main room when she heard the exterior door shudder.
Someone was trying to force their way inside.
She re-formed the exoskeleton, went invisible, and floated to the ceiling, just seconds before the exterior door burst open. A heavily armed security detail swarmed into the room, rifles pointed in front of them, moving through and scanning every inch of the main room and side chambers with ruthless efficiency. They moved toward the human-sized hole in the wall and moved with greater hesitancy into a room they’d not previously known existed. Sheila reasoned they feared that whoever had made that hole in the wall might still be in that room.
Close enough.
“Well?” Oswald Silver’s voice carried into the room from the outside. Robot Sheila wondered if this cruel man, aware of his wife’s death and likely suspecting his daughter was dead as well, was capable of feeling pain, regret, or remorse. She would let her human brain figure out that problem; her robot brain couldn’t answer that question.
“We see no sign of an intruder, sir.”
Silver walked into the room and looked around. His eyes fell upon the hole in the wall. He jabbed a finger in the direction of the new decorative feature in his ex-wife’s room. “Then how the hell did that get here? It wasn’t here when we picked the place apart a few days ago.”
“I’m not certain, sir. But there is no sign of anybody being inside any of the rooms.” He hesitated. “Sir, given the circumstances and the discovery of this new room, we should remove the dividing wall to facilitate our… closing of your ex-wife’s affairs.”
Silver inhaled deeply, as if prepared to level the wall with a violent exhalation of air. The men in the room seemed to take a partial step back and leaned subtly away from their leader. But the man calmed himself. “That’s fine. Examine the wall materials for anything of interest. If no one is in here right now, though… then the alerts we received about activity came too late.” He turned around. “I need to be leaving before my new ship is commandeered like the others.”
Silver left the room. Sheila assessed her best chance to leave. Silver had inferred that they’d set up some sort of monitoring system here, which she’d triggered upon entry. They wouldn’t remove that system now; rather, they’d watch more closely knowing that someone had gotten in and demolished a section of an interior wall.
She didn’t want to leave this room at a time nobody was supposed to be inside.
She maneuvered her body as best she could, hovering over the shortest of the troops and let her body graze the doorframe, using the nanos to muffle any sounds t
he contact might cause. Once she left the room she floated straight up in the air, relieved to be free once more.
As she watched Silver emerge, she realized she had an opportunity.
Silver was one of the Thirty they’d targeted for elimination. The challenge with killing him now was the sheer volume of witnesses. She could kill him… and then she’d need to kill every guard quickly enough to prevent any of them from sounding the alarm. Then she’d need to get all of the bodies back into Delilah’s quarters and clean up any blood outside the room. And she’d need to do all of that without anyone else walking by and noticing.
The risk, at this point, was too high. She was forced to watch as Silver walked away, toward whatever ship he’d requisitioned, and back to the surface… and a spot where they either had no assassins, or had assassins unaware of the new target.
But it couldn’t be helped.
She sent an update to her colleagues after confirming continued control of the Ravagers in the East. Neutralized the tiny threat by stowing it away in a better place. Saw an old friend, but circumstances prevented conversation.
After a moment’s hesitation, she added a follow-up question.
Any updates, John?
* * *
John had remembered the room from his previous time aboard the space station, and he’d thought of this room immediately as a technical base of operations. It wasn’t in a frequently traversed part of the city in space, and he’d had little trouble working his way to and into the room. Now his fingers flew over the keys, furiously testing code, trying to enter private networks in a quiet, subtle manner that wouldn’t raise suspicion. Brute force attacks were easier; it was the silent attacks that were the challenge.
He finished a final snippet of code and set up a test window, letting the code run in a virtual setting to ensure the effects were as he’d intended.
While it ran, he sent out a communication to Sheila and Mary. I’ve found a place like home, and was delighted to find there an address book featuring all of our favorite people. Happily, most reside just a short distance from here, and reunions should be easy to arrange. We’ll have to find a different way to greet those further away, who have all thankfully left forwarding addresses. And Mary? John ran the code he’d just tested for real this time and checked that the effect was as desired. I just heard that your favorite store is open and has a fantastic sale on your favorite products.
John set up several other bits of code, gathering information, expanding his subtle reach, leaving markers that would distract any who might notice his actions, leading them down errant paths until, he hoped, it was too late.
He noted another message and passed word along to Mary and Sheila: those they’d left on the surface would arrive within the hour, and would need help finding their meeting spot.
News trickled to him and he dispensed it out as it came in. His favorite? The panic on the private network of the Thirty at the sudden cessation of activity by the Ravagers in the East, and the inability to figure out who had ordered it.
He set a few additional traps, then leaned back in his chair, fingers laced behind his head, and smiled.
All of them had scores to settle with the Thirty, some general, some specific.
He’d picked out a few that had treated him with particular enmity in the past and manipulated his code in a manner that, if he didn’t deliver the killing blow himself, he’d at least get a chance to watch.
The enemy was powerful, savvy, and had resources most people didn’t understand. Those who’d arrive soon were among the only ones who would know those weaknesses, and have the tools and talents to exploit them.
He hoped they had the critical supplies stowed within the bowels of their fortress. More critically, he hoped they’d thought to bring them along?
If not? The tide of victory would flow in the enemy’s favor.
They’d all know soon enough.
Chapter 19
New Venice
He was going to have words with Roddy about the water pipe system in New Venice, Wesley decided. He’d give the big man credit: the interior did feature plenty of steps and handholds designed to facilitate movement inside. The steps were molded rubber, affixed to the pipe using a sealant that resisted the unfriendly effects of flowing water, designed to improve traction and friction in an environment of flowing water.
The handholds, though… those were a distraction. They glowed with an eerie green light, ostensibly to make them more easily visible inside the otherwise dark pipes. He asked the computer why the handholds glowed.
The light is actually fatal to the majority of impurities found inside the water pipes.
Oh. So the distracting green glow actually did the job people crawling around inside the pipes reputedly did. The glow wasn’t sufficiently bright to give great visibility, and thus he struggled to find the bulging steps mounted erratically to the sides of the pipes. It wasn’t as much an issue when the pipes moved horizontally. But when he was in a vertical section, as he was now… one bad step because he couldn’t see could prove disastrous.
He sighed loudly as the water poured over him while he blinked furiously and tried to get to the next horizontal section. Another security feature, no doubt. If anyone from outside gained entry to the pipes, they’d likely find themselves victim to a fall triggered by the setup, while Roddy’s team, who knew the setup well enough to need minimal light, could move around efficiently. They’d never had someone sneak inside, and he doubted anyone had suffered illness caused by tainted water. Whatever concerns were raised during the design had likely been forgotten by now. Nobody continued questioning those in positions of authority if their plans worked. He wondered if they’d raised a fuss when Roddy had “turned traitor” and vanished one day, asking to seal off the pipes entirely lest Roddy lead an invasion that way.
At this point, he just hoped he didn’t run into anyone else in here, because he’d lose that matchup. And he was going to punch Roddy in the face for sure when he saw the man again.
He finally reached a horizontal section and, to his delight, saw actual light—not that damned spooky green glow from the handholds—but real, actual light ahead, shining in through another opening like the one he’d used below. Once he stood up and was merely wading in water, rather than showering in it, he opened his pack and pulled out the vial of cleaning tablets he’d taken at the computer’s suggestion. Shrugging as he reached the light, he opened the vial, dropped a couple of tablets into the water, and secured the lid once more.
The pipe flowed forward toward the light, where it curved upward. The computer told him that he had reached the kitchens, whose staff was highly sensitive to water quality and purity as it impacted the foods they prepared. Roddy moved his face to the clear entry panel and pushed his face as near as he dared, trying to get a sense of movement and activity in the area around the pipe, gauging how much human traffic he’d deal with when he emerged. He could certainly follow the pipe up and try to find a more secluded exit point, but the computer’s map suggested he’d deal with pumps and switches that could prove physically uncomfortable. He’d take his chances here, avoiding another round of climbing inside Roddy’s liquid maze.
He’d lucked out, it appeared. The exit from the water pipe was inside a storage closet of some sort, lined with unused pots, pans, cooking utensils, aprons, hats, and more. Thankfully, those supplies included zero humans at present. Not wanting to miss his chance, he fumbled the interior latches free and pushed the panel outward. After scrambling out of the pipe, he dropped another tablet into the water—in case anyone walked in at that instant—and closed the panel and listened as the latches secured automatically. He wasn’t sure how the latches worked on both sides, because he saw them on the outside as well. But it worked. And it wasn’t his problem any longer.
The storage room was quite warm, and he suspected they vented excess heat from the ovens back here. It felt wonderful, given that he’d just spent a significant amount of time in wat
er and every inch of his body and clothing were soaked beyond the saturation point. The warmth would help him dry out. He found a huge stack of folded dishtowels and scrubbed himself dry. He found a small alcove and stripped down, wrung out his clothes as best he could, and used the towels to dry the previously covered parts of his body and to friction as much of the remaining moisture from his clothes as possible. His eyes fell upon the coveralls, germ masks, uniform hats and gloves. Moments later, he’d donned the uniform of a delivery specialist and stowed his supply bag in one of the lockers. He remembered the rolling delivery carts and changed his mind, pulled his bag out of storage, and stowed it in netting affixed to the underside of the lower of two shelves below the top surface.
It was now or never. After assuring that his hat and facemask were in place, he headed out of the storage room.
He steered away from the greatest amounts noise, believing his odds of success depended on him encountering the fewest number of people possible. He listened as he moved, picking up snippets of conversation.
“—demeaning to me. I’m not going there again, Miriam!” The voice was that of a man, deep and gruff, but he detected something not dissimilar to fear in the tone. Interesting.
He heard a dramatic sigh, the voice clearly feminine. “Fine, then. You can replace the soup with the new casks and bring the old ones back. And wash them. By hand. And I better not have any idea what type of soup was in them when you’re done. You hear me?”
“Fine.” He heard footsteps walking away and low volume mumbling from the woman he’d just heard.
Thinking quickly, he pushed his cart out and spotted the woman, her name embossed on her uniform. She’d pulled her hat and hairnet off, leaving her hair sticking up and static-y, reflecting the frazzled expression on her face. “Hey, Miriam. Ready for my next delivery. Got anything?”
She studied his face and the name on his uniform. “Tracy? I… don’t think we’ve met before.”
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