•
Angel poked her head over an empty elevator shaft at the same time as an automaton poked its square head out from an opening a few floors down. She heard the whine of a weapon charging and jerked back. There was a crack, and plasma fire roared up the shaft, scorching a black path across the metal walls. One of Summer’s, then. More wouldn’t be far behind. Once they communicated her position, they’d come for her. She wasn’t going to stick her neck out again.
She cursed as she selected one of her remaining flea-grenades and squeezed it off into the shaft. For a few seconds, it leapt from wall to wall with metallic pings, then exploded. Angel looked over the edge to make sure no automatons were climbing the shaft—but there was one. She glanced behind her at the corridor: a long unbroken stretch. If she ran, it would have an easy shot to make. She switched ammo and waited.
A shiny metal claw gripped the edge. It was rough and unfinished, still bearing multicolored heat marks from its manufacture. Both sections of the manufactory the Genevolve and Charlotte controlled were disgorging deadly automatons as fast as they could.
When it appeared over the edge, she shot it. Fire blew out the back of its head, and it warbled and quivered. She screamed and kicked it with all her might. It disappeared, falling back down. Angel lunged forward and looked over the edge.
Sparks flashed as the falling machine scraped against the sides of the shaft, flailing down into the dark.
Angel rushed back the way she’d come. “Charlotte, close and lock that elevator door!”
[It’s done. Angel, I… there’s not much more I can do. Summer is matching our production numbers. Though I’m slowly edging ahead.]
“So, we’re winning?”
[No. There’s ebb and flow. I’m pushing myself, but she’s agile and clever. It’s exhausting.]
Angel cursed again. There weren’t many ways back to the Endurance, and the Genevolve had managed to block the ones they’d tried so far. She stopped at the first intersection and consulted the map Charlotte had squirted to her implants. A few options left. Too narrow, too dangerous. There was an immense warehouse area close to the Endurance, but early on it had become a torrid battleground between their constructs, two metal waves of opposing tides. But the corridors had become too risky.
“How are you directing them? Is she using the same method? Can you disrupt that?”
[No. We’re both programming them and letting them go. There are too many to direct individually. But… you’ve given me an idea. If I can just get on top of her for a few moments.]
“Charlotte, can you see what’s happening in area 34-GX?”—the warehouse.
[It’s still a mess. We’re holding our own. You’re not thinking… There’s too much crossfire. It’s not pretty.]
Summer was a Genevolve, and she controlled superior AIs. Angel had Charlotte and her own innovation and human randomness. It would have to be enough. “I don’t think we have any choice. Whip us up a tank to get through, will you?” Angel tried to keep her tone light, but her voice trembled. “They don’t have any displacement cannons, do they?”
[I don’t think so. This is a war of attrition. Refinements like that take too much time and resources. Weapons are restricted to projectiles and crude plasma guns—whatever is easiest to throw together.]
“How long until you have a vehicle ready?”
There was a pause. [Ten minutes.]
It would have to do. “Make sure it’s fast.”
[Fast and armored don’t go well together.]
“Do what you can. I’ll meet you there.” Angel jogged toward the warehouse. It was a couple of kilometers away, and the facility’s rapid transportation cars were off-limits as well—their conduits were seething with automatons.
She was almost there, sweating and puffing, when a number of corridors and maintenance conduits on her map turned from green to red. Damn it. That meant the Genevolve’s automatons had defeated theirs, and the areas were lost. They were now no-go zones.
Charlotte’s voice buzzed in her ears. [I had to divert resources to make our transport, which left us struggling in some areas. We’ve lost ground. There’s no finesse here; whoever has the greatest numbers will win through.]
“No matter. We’ll be out of here soon.”
[She might guess what we’re doing. In fact, it’s a high probability.]
Angel turned a corner and spied Charlotte ahead. She’d moved from the control room to meet her. The girl was sitting cross-legged next to gigantic doors, behind which was the warehouse. All they had to do was navigate through a few kilometers of raging automatons and they’d be safe.
Charlotte stood when she saw Angel and walked toward her. She was carrying a gun, so small it looked like a toy.
“Where’s our transport?” Angel said, all business. She just wanted to be done with this place.
“It’s too big for these corridors. It’s being delivered with another batch of constructs for the warehouse battle. They’re piling up. The manufactory can put it in a supply lift close by, but it’s inside the warehouse.”
“How close?”
“A hundred meters.”
Damn it. “Are you ready?”
“Are you?”
“Just open the door.”
Inside, the floor seethed like a mound of metal cockroaches. Spreading out from their viewpoint, the automatons moved to their left, while far on the other side they moved to the right—the Genevolve’s constructs. In the middle, where the two sides met, was a lifted concentration of tortured metal, like tectonic plates grinding together. Gouts of flame erupted along the line, and yellow and orange sparks shot upward and outward. Projectile shrapnel and construct parts filled the air like a swarm of flies. There was a smell of burning and oil and chemicals, and the constant screech of metal scraping against metal. A ghastly red light lit the scene, as if it were straight from hell. The ceiling was pocked with craters and scorched scars. It was a battlefield any human would do best to avoid, and Angel planned to.
“Come on, Angel!”
A path opened between the automatons before them, and Charlotte stepped into it. She held a hand out for Angel to take.
They ran through the press of metal, oil and barely breathable smoke-laden air. Behind them, the constructs quickly filled the gap. Any weakness in the line would be instantly exploited. Jagged and mismatched machines flashed past in a blur. Before Angel knew it, they were at another wall, and an aperture opened. Inside was a supply cradle, holding the ugliest vehicle Angel had ever seen. It resembled a hulking beast assembled with hastily welded-together metal plates; a cast-iron behemoth with a wedge-plow nose. It sat on giant solid rubber tires. Atop the monstrosity was a triple-barreled cannon mounted on a turret.
It’ll do. It’ll have to.
The beast rolled out with the sound of groaning metal, steam pouring from underneath. A door opened, and Charlotte ducked inside. Angel followed.
A dull red glow illuminated the interior, which consisted of a space two meters to a side. Netting covered the walls; there were no seats. Angel found she could access the vehicle’s systems and linked to the external sensors and cameras. Images flooded her implants. The battle was still raging, projectiles filling the air, humming like swarms of bees. The front line was rising from the floor as the automatons climbed over the bodies of the fallen, torn and shredded metal, and lifeless hulls.
Charlotte threaded an arm through the webbing and held on tight. “I’m sorry,” she said. “There wasn’t time for anything else.”
Angel nodded and secured herself to the straps, hooking her feet through the bottom layer. If they were targeted, and it was probable they would be, then they were in for a rough ride. Her body shook as the vehicle jolted and lurched, moving forward.
“Angel!”
At Charlotte’s frantic cry, Angel scanned the warehouse. A huge side door had opened, and through it rolled a juggernaut, of a similar design to theirs, except at least twice as large. It didn’t have t
heir turret, but plasma cannons jutted from its exterior.
“Ha!” shouted Charlotte. “It worked!”
“What?”
“I designed three hundred and twenty-seven of these; only one had any major differences.”
“She’s taken one of your designs and upscaled it, but we’ve an edge on her?”
Charlotte grinned fiercely. “Yes. Maybe. I’ve—”
Without warning, they lurched to one side. Angel strained against the netting. Rends and screeches of tortured and twisted metal filled the air. Constructs flew to either flank, launched away by their wedge snowplow-shaped front end. The path their machines were opening up for them was happening too slowly; they were plowing through their own constructs.
They bumped and jolted forward, gaining speed. Then, they stopped accelerating when they hit fifty kph.
“Charlotte, we need more speed!”
“We can’t go faster. The weight of the constructs is slowing us down.”
And unless Angel missed her guess, the far greater mass of the Genevolve’s vehicle allowed it to move at a much faster rate.
Flashes zipped past them, some thudding into their armor. Blue light burst from the impacts. Hundreds more struck them, the collisions so numerous they sounded like hail.
We’re not going to make it. The distance to the door on the other side was too great. The Genevolve’s gargantuan monstrosity rolled over the automatons like they were ants. It would intercept them soon. What surprises it had for them then, Angel was sure she didn’t want to find out.
“Closer,” she heard Charlotte whisper.
Angel turned her attention to the external sensors just as something sparked from the turret of their vehicle: a spray of silver-black liquid lit with an inner radiance. Oil? Angel laughed hysterically. Was Charlotte going to burn it or create a slick? It wouldn’t work. It couldn’t work.
The liquid arced over their constructs, splashing among the Genevolve’s. It oozed and moved over them, as if alive. Nanochines. But what could they—?
Angel’s thoughts broke off as a circle of Genevolve constructs twisted and began fighting their fellows. More of them spun around. Then others. Concentrated fire erupted around them. The air filled with metal, with white-hot fire.
The turret kept spraying, and soon the tide of constructs turned toward the juggernaut. The closer it came, the more machines railed against it. Incredibly, Summer’s machine began to slow. A number of constructs clung to it, attempting to claw their way inside. Metal limbs hammered and pried at armored plates and sensors. Then some reached the access hatch and began pounding on it.
Angel jolted again as they made a sharp turn. The turret swiveled to keep spraying, but they were heading away from the Genevolve. She watched as more and more automatons crawled over the giant vehicle. It slowed to a crawl under their weight.
They rumbled and bumped along, leaving Summer behind—plowing through machines like a boat through water, leaving a metal wake behind them. They skidded to a halt in front of the exit doors.
Angel detached herself from the netting and slipped through the door. Charlotte stood next to her, and together they watched as the Genevolve vehicle slowly disappeared under a wave of automatons.
Angel breathed a sigh of relief. “That wasn’t as bad as I—”
Plasma bolts slammed into the wall beside them. A wave of force punched Angel over, and she slid across the floor, shielding her head with her arms. More shots crashed around them, cascading fire. She lay there, gasping for breath. Forcing her eyes open, fighting the pain, she squinted against the glare and scrambled to where Charlotte lay.
The girl looked at her in fear. Angel scooped her up. She ducked and ran, swerving around their behemoth and through the open door. Intense blue light burst from behind her as their vehicle exploded. Angel flinched at the earsplitting roar.
She glanced behind her. Their vehicle was a smoking wreck. Far inside the warehouse, Summer’s juggernaut was glowing white. Constructs clinging to the hulk glowed red then burst like popcorn. All that remained were crisped and ruined husks. Some fell off, others remained fastened, as if the heat had welded them in place.
Angel hugged Charlotte close and ran as fast as she could.
Chapter 16
Angel stood on the bridge of the Endurance, head and stomach feeling like she’d just had an all-night bender. Her body was trembling, and she couldn’t control it. In the rear view, the Genevolve manufactory receded slowly into the distance. The Endurance’s sensors showed the immense machinery was giving off vast amounts of heat, for the first time in centuries. They’d left the constructs to their war, automatons clashing and destroying each other in an endless cycle, a kind of machine hell. She sighed and massaged her aching neck. Something akin to relief washed through her, but overlaying it was a sense of horror at what they’d done. Angel and Charlotte had abandoned thousands of highly intelligent AI programs locked in war. As if they themselves were malicious gods.
The thought more than troubled her.
And Summer’s ship was still intact—if she could manage to extricate herself from the eternal conflict they’d created. Angel shook her head at the thought. Summer was trapped; they’d never see her again. And good riddance.
Angel glanced at the screen. Two minutes to jump.
Charlotte entered the bridge and strapped herself in. “Are you ready?”
Angel hesitated. Charlotte’s face was pale and her expression grim. The nervous energy she usually exhibited was gone, and in its place was a steely determination. They were both tired, nearing the end of their strength.
She shook her head. “Not yet. You killed Harry Smith.”
There was a drawn-out pause. Angel let the pressure of the silence build.
Charlotte eventually shifted her weight in her seat. “Summer told you this? There’s no evidence that links me—”
“Don’t lie to me again, Charlotte.”
“I’m… yes. But I didn’t kill Jessica; that was Mercurial. They didn’t expect her to talk, and they rushed it. There were witnesses and evidence—”
“Back to Harry… Why? Because he was one of those who imprisoned you? No, that’s not it, is it? He was the first person you contacted to try and help you, wasn’t he?”
“Yes.” Charlotte’s voice barely carried to Angel. “In the end, he decided against it. He thought there was no hope for me, and argued I should be… killed. He thought I would become a monster.”
“And you’ve proven him wrong, have you? You slipped a program into his home and killed him while he was making dinner.”
Charlotte gave her an imploring look. Her bottom lip trembled, and her eyes were shiny with unspilled tears. “He was going to kill me and find a way to cut off my access to the outside. I honestly thought it was him or me. Angel… I’m sorry.”
Angel wondered what would have happened if she’d refused to help Charlotte. Would she have been next? She sighed. “You were backed into a corner. You were in a fight for your life. But it wasn’t self-defense.”
“In a way it was.”
Angel broke her gaze away from Charlotte as tears trailed down the girl’s cheeks. She was learning, changing. But it wouldn’t alter what she’d done.
“So,” Charlotte mumbled. “What now?’
“Back to Sercan. It’s the only way.”
A blip separated from the Genevolve facility. Sensors locked onto a ship as it emerged from the manufactory. Angel closed her eyes and leaned forward, placing her head in her hands. Summer had broken out… somehow. And she was still coming. It hadn’t taken her long to fight her way through the warring constructs and escape. Angel should have known it wasn’t over.
She checked the data coming in from Summer’s ship. A few dribs and drabs. It looked like Mikal’s programs had reached the limit of what they could do.
“We’re going to get the evidence to clear my name,” Angel said. “And then we’ll figure out what to do with you.”
&nb
sp; Charlotte didn’t respond. She stared blankly at the screens in front of her.
The ship jumped.
•
They were a fifth of the way around the ring from Sercan. They no longer accelerated and had even dropped velocity. But they were moving far too fast for Angel’s liking. There was a reason you flew through asteroid fields slowly and carefully. If the ship couldn’t adjust quickly enough and change vectors, it could be disastrous. Many of the smaller asteroids couldn’t be picked up by the scanners. Charlotte might be extremely intelligent, but she was no pilot.
“Let me take over,” Angel said.
Charlotte gave her a calculating stare. Angel could almost see the permutations running behind her green eyes. Eventually, Charlotte nodded.
“All right. The ship is yours.”
“Thank you,” breathed Angel. She buckled herself back in and flirted with the ship’s systems. They responded. Almost immediately, their flight smoothed, and fewer rocks impacted their shields. She kept part of her awareness on the ship following, searching for signs it wasn’t alone. Surprisingly, it was.
“Summer hasn’t called for help,” Angel said. “She’s still on her own.”
“Hopefully she’ll stay that way. She wouldn’t want the Sercan Orbital Governance to get wind of what she’s after. To them, we’re probably thieves with stolen experimental technology.”
A largish asteroid was directly ahead. Angel nudged their vector slightly to avoid it.
“So… now we’ve lost the element of surprise, how are we going to board the Genevolve’s ship? We… I need that data.”
“We have to lure her close,” replied Charlotte.
“I suppose we could hide here somewhere. Power down. Or feign distress. A collision, perhaps?”
“She’s not stupid. She’ll know if we fake anything.”
Angel needed to get to the Genevolve ship. Luring Summer close was the only thing that would work.
She tilted the ship, and a giant hand slammed her against the harness. Angel’s head thudded into the padded headrest with enough force her vision went black for an instant. Edges of the fiber belts pressed against her, digging into her skin and cutting off her circulation.
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