"Matt, I think that's what they want," Susan said while looking at a destroyed bot.
"What?"
"They suffered greater attrition than they anticipated in this attack, so they are going to plan 'B'—allow us all to reach the hospital, a place from which there is no escape, and then use their missiles to bring down the building. That's why those drones stopped their attack, they’re conserving their missiles"
"Well, shit," Walker exclaimed, "what other choice do we have? We can't leave everybody out in the open, and just keep roaming around. The other Bios are already both physically and mentally exhausted."
Susan had that faraway look on her face as she examined something in her mind. "There is a hardened shelter in the hospital designed to protect the occupants against meteorite impacts and loss of atmosphere. The one in the hospital is, itself, a small hospital so that patients can be moved there and cared for in an emergency. I suggest we put all the wounded and Bios in the shelter."
"Then with the bots and SUBs we create a defense in-depth in front of the hospital and attempt to keep the enemy out of missile range," I suggested.
"Matt," Walker said, "we're running low on ammo. We can't hold them off forever."
"Which brings us back to my original thought," Susan said. "Based on your observation that, with their total number close to seven hundred they can whittle us down, we have to get past these drones and hit their controller."
"We're gonna have to have one hell of a plan," Walker observed.
"You two concentrate on getting everyone to the hospital," Susan said, "I'll work on a plan, remember, my knowledge of JILL is infinitely more detailed than yours."
I left my eight SUBs to watch the enemy drones and we headed toward the main body. They had continued moving, despite the obvious fatigue of the Bios. The bots and remaining SUBs were now carrying all our logistics.
I located Hartly, who was obviously worn out but still up front leading the way, and filled him in on our planning so far.
"I don't guess there is anything else to do," he replied. "I saw part of the battle back there. I see two of your men are missing."
"Yeah, I lost two; they were both SUBs, by the way."
Hartly took a deep breath and looked away from me. "I was talking with Greg over there; he fought at sector nine before you joined us there. He fought with a little robot he called Howard. Said Howard got hit and fell over. As it lay there, it started making a sound like crying. It asked Greg to remember him." As an afterthought, he added in a serious, contemplative tone, "Ain't that funny?"
"They are all of them aware, Hartly. They know the score here. They know if they get destroyed, they will cease to exist—just as you know you will die."
He rubbed his chin and closed his eyes, then reached into his pocket. He held out the RT-135. "If only this could call Earth."
I reached out and took it from him. "This doesn't call anyone any more. My friend Dolph didn't make it, either."
"I'm sorry. He was a human, right?"
"Yeah. Yeah, he was." I buttoned the device into my shirt pocket. Sentimentality, another of those emotions that reminded me I was still human.
Susan saw me pocket the device. She came up behind me and hugged me. "Dolph died defending his friends."
"I've seen a lot of that. I'm alive today because of guys like Dolph."
"Me, too, darling. He'll be remembered."
The last two hundred fifty meters to the hospital were, thankfully, uneventful. Doc and his bot medical staff went directly to the shelter to see what supplies were available there. It was a surprisingly well-equipped bunker. Everyone was moved directly in, the wounded Bios, and the wounded bots.
Hartly stood there at the door to the shelter looking at the floor. I walked up to him and looked down. Blood from a Bio named Dorothy was mixing with hydraulic fluid leaking from a bot named Clem. Hartly looked up at me. "You say they are aware?"
"It's called sophonce, and they possess metacognition. Legally, such an entity is a person."
"How is it possible?"
"The creators of the advanced AI had no idea how far they had come. Susan took the next logical step. These little guys know that they risk their existence. Being self-determining, they could refuse to help, but they stay. They are doing it for you. Can you honestly tell me you fight for them?"
"No," Hartly responded bluntly. "I can't tell you that, but I can tell you that I have a better appreciation of them."
"That's a start, I guess."
○O○
I had three hundred twenty-one individuals, to include twelve volunteers from among the walking-wounded Bios. I put my best shooters high up in the hospital with the most accurate long-range weapons we had, the HnK-8s. Out in front, I put two layers of defense, and in front of them, scouts. We located avenues down which each layer of defense could fall back, ultimately collapsing into the hospital, our final redoubt. The last thing to do would be to have the people in the bunker close the door and seal it, then pray the enemy could not breach it, and there to wait for a rescue ship.
At the completion of these preparations, Walker looked at me and said quietly, "You know, Matt, this is a good defense, but…with those missiles—" He just shook his head.
"I know," I said. Then, after a pause I asked, "Why has no rescue party been sent? How could we be out of contact this long and they not have sent a shuttle to check on us?"
"Fake transmission," Walker replied.
"I agree," Susan said. "They have successfully faked transmissions before. Do you remember when they sank the USS Twin Towers? Well, for three days, they broadcast fake communications from them and made us think all was well. We didn't catch it till the scheduled code change.
"When they knocked out our COMs here, I'll wager they started transmitting faked traffic immediately."
"I'd wager," Walker said, "that they stopped transmitting that crap when you hurt their mother ship."
"So, rescue could be in-bound?" I asked.
"I just hope it's an armed party," Walker said. "Last they heard from us, we were reporting the Moon quake, not an armed assault."
"That reminds me, Susan," I asked, "what's your plan?"
She led us to a part of the floor covered in a thick layer of insulation dust and we all squatted down. With her fingertip, she sketched out her plan.
"I believe they have modified Ava and are using the Ismay net to control these drones. It's an existent and powerful system. Using it eliminates the need for them to bring too much additional equipment."
"Wait, they used these things against us at the Alamo, before they had possession of Ava." Walker pointed out.
"True, but there were comparatively few of them and the broadcast range was short. They need a system that allows them to control large numbers anywhere inside JILL, ergo Ismay, that's why they were so selective in what they destroyed when they got in among Ava's servers.
"It's time for us to take the offensive. I believe that our objective has to be Ava's mainframe," she concluded.
"Damn!" Walker exclaimed.
"Okay, sweetheart, how do we get there?" I asked.
"We have to get into the lower sub-basement of this dome. From there, to dome one; once under dome one, we need to descend to the second sub-basement. From there, we access the BSC through one of several small maintenance pathways that run between the floors. It was through one of these that Doc made his way out of and back to sector nine. Once inside the BSC, we descend to the lowest level, level six, through a power conduit located about here,” she pointed to a spot on her had drawn map in the dust. “Then we squeeze along fiber optic conduits and into Ava's mainframe through an air transport shaft."
She looked up at Walker. "Pete, it's here that we lose you. You're just too big to make it through this conduit."
"Yeah. Okay, I just hope you don't need me once you get in there."
"Me, too," I said.
"So who all is going?" Walker asked.
“We
are going into the enemy’s rear,” Susan went on shooting me a glance, “with all their drones deployed here against us they will be particularly vulnerable in Sector Zero, so much more so once we take out the drone’s controller. I suggest we take sufficient force to engage and neutralize them.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, “let’s take the fight to them. Go on the offensive. It’s the last thing they will expect.”
"We’ll take Sanyo and the remaining one hundred fifty-nine bots and all eight SUBs,” Susan explained. “We leave the Bio med techs behind, of course."
"That leaves the hundred thirty Bios to fend for themselves," Walker observed. "Of that number, only eighty or so are fit to fight and none of them are soldiers; their experience is—"
"Exactly, Walker," I interrupted. "That's why we need to leave an experienced, trained soldier behind, and one with a medical background would be nice."
He looked back and forth between Susan and me a moment. "Oh, hell no, you ain't leave'n me out of this fight."
"No Walker, we're not," I said, raising my voice. Then, after a pause, I continued more quietly. "We're leaving you in charge of the fight back here. You said it yourself, there's no combat leadership here. And besides, you can't make it all the way through to the objective."
"Add to that, Walker, that we'll probably be forced to egress by another route," Susan said.
"Forced egress? You're going there to destroy the enemy, remember?"
"Well, just in case."
"Don't piss on my boot, baby, I know a one-way mission when I see it."
"Walker." I stood up, and he did too. "Listen to me. Our mission is to ensure the survival of the Bios, all the Bios. That's you, too—"
"Matt, you're planning to take a hundred sixty-seven bots and SUBs up against a hundred ninety-one of the enemy, with God knows how many of those little tracked bastards; it's suicide, and you know it."
"I don't know it. Besides, if all we manage is to destroy their ability to control those things, the odds will drop considerably and your chances of rescue increase dramatically, and that, my friend, is the name of the game. All you have to do is hold out; all we have to do is buy you the time."
"Shit, I hate this plan," Walker said through clenched teeth.
"Good, you know I'm right."
"I know this entire plan is based on your hope that there's some kind of relief mission coming."
"When I was in the Blood Archipelago, all we had was hope. We have to have it now, Pete," I reminded him.
"When will you be leaving?"
"Just as soon as we can cross level the ammo and get everyone together."
"You know this kills our defense in-depth plan."
"I know. When they make their move, fall everyone back into the bunker."
○O○
Forty-five minutes later, the ammo was all cross leveled and the troops assembled. Doc had assured Susan that he was all set and could care for all the Bios and the wounded bots for up to two weeks.
Susan and I were just about to make one more round of inspection to ensure we were ready when Walker came up and stood between us looking out into dome two. "Why haven't they hit us already?" he asked.
"My guess," Susan said, "is they are waiting for all their drones to be assembled and deployed."
"Yeah, makes sense. We damn sure ain't goin' nowhere." There was a moment of silence, and then he stepped out in front of Susan and me and looked down at us. There was great sadness in his face. "I don't suppose I'll ever see you two again," he said softly.
"Hey, buddy," I said, "you thought we were goners once before, remember? Yet, here we are."
Susan stepped up to him and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Pete, just as I fell in love with this guy, I thought he was killed. We got a second chance and I have no intention of losing him again. We will be back. You just ensure you're here to greet us."
Walker bent down a little and, with his tree trunk-like arms, pulled Susan and me to him and hugged us. When he rose back up, his eyes were red. "You two watch out for one another, you're the only friends I have."
"Hey, when we get back home I'll buy you a beer."
"Yeah, sure, and what do I buy you, a quart of oil?"
Susan led our raiding party to what she hoped would be an undamaged access to the lower level of the dome. As we walked off through the ruins of dome two, Susan and I turned and waved at Walker. He waved back from near the steps of the hospital. Susan turned back toward the path ahead, but I took one last look over my shoulder. The big man was wiping his eyes.
○O○
Our walk diagonally across dome two went smoothly and without too much hindrance. We took a path that we were confident would keep us masked from the enemy drones already in the structure.
At the far side of the dome, Susan led us to a nondescript building. We entered into what reminded me of an office area in a used tire store. This place was entirely without aesthetics, about as bland as it could be. We all proceeded down a narrow hallway in single file until we came to a sign over a door that simply read "STAIRWELL". In starting down the stairs the bots all deployed their Galileo wheels.
Four flights down, we exited into what could have been the engine room of one of those old steam ships, like the Titanic, only much larger. Pipes were running all over the place, some of them huge, as big as those in the O2 plant. There were also a myriad of pipes of much smaller dimensions. There were all manner of machines too, some of them enormous. "Susan, what is this place?" I asked.
"This is water recovery plant number one. It seems to be off now. Water is very precious up here, so every drop is recovered and recycled."
"Kinda glad I don't need it anymore."
We began to duck, bob, and weave our way among the pipes, Susan was careful to go only through those places where the bots could roll. "We could have used Hartly down here," I observed.
"No," Susan responded nonchalantly, "I know my way through here better than he."
Our progress through the water recovery plant was slow, but we made decent time, thanks to our guide. Eventually, we reached a tunnel lined with all manner of pipes that led off into the darkness.
"This tunnel corresponds to the tunnel above our heads," Susan said, "which connects domes one and two. I don't see any lights, perhaps all power is out under dome one. If this is the case, it'll be damn cold in there."
"What if the power is out under all of JILL?" I asked.
"Then this will have been a wasted effort. None of us can withstand minus 230 Celsius. Knowing this, the enemy may have shut the power off deliberately; but then again, the power is on here under two."
"I tell you what," I offered. "Let me scout out the area ahead, locate a path across and try to determine if it's any warmer where we're headed."
"Okay," she surprised me by agreeing, "once at the other end of this tunnel, turn forty-five degrees to your left and move straight across on that heading. You'll reach a building with four elevators facing into the dome. Above them, it will be marked "Entertainment Center". The elevators will be without power, as well, so look to either side of them and you'll see the emergency stairwells. If there’s no power one floor down, return here immediately. I’ll be watching the time. If you take too long, I'll come looking for you—and I won't be happy."
I smiled at her, kissed her cheek and said, "Well, I don't want you unhappy."
She smiled back and said, "No, you don't."
I took off and did just as she had instructed. Needless to say, it was cold in there. I found the bank of elevators, huge elevators. It was apparent that they anticipated a great deal of traffic when they built these things. I located the emergency stairwells just where Susan said they'd be. I went to the stairwell on the left, and the instant I opened the door, I detected the slightly warmer air rising up from below. By the time I got to the bottom, the temperature had climbed to minus ninety-five. I descended four wide, long flights of stairs before reaching the bottom; here I found an empty, cement room wit
h a set of large metal doors on the wall to my left. From under this door, I saw light. The room beyond had power.
I was about to jerk the door open when I heard a distant sound, the sound of servos and rubber treads moving over a hard surface. I slowly pulled the door open, just a centimeter, and looked out. About sixty meters away, one of those enemy drones was examining the insides of a junction box. This drone had a machine gun mounted atop its chassis, and the addition of hand-like manipulators. Its visual sensors were mounted on a flexible shaft about a meter tall.
I knew just where its power source was. One shot and I'd stop this thing in its tracks. I had to hurry, this one bot was holding up our entire mission.
Slowly, I pushed the muzzle of my weapon out between the edge of the door and the door jam. I took careful aim and gently squeezed the trigger. A millisecond before my weapon discharged the bot backed up. My bullet missed the spot I was aiming for, but struck it in the right flank. Black smoke began to pour out of it, but the damned thing was not dead. It spun quickly around to present its frontal armor toward me and opened up with its 7.62 mm machine gun. The gun almost instantly shredded the metal door and was chewing up the concrete wall that was providing me cover.
I dropped to the floor and fired several more rounds without effect. Now, the thing was slowly moving toward me, firing nonstop. I had to disengage, and started back up the stairs. It ceased firing. I could tell from the sound it was clearing a jam and reloading.
I made my way up to the first landing and lay prone behind the wall. That drone's weapon would fire right through this concrete wall so I couldn't hide behind it. It was moving slowly, probably because of the damage I had inflicted. It was coming though—I could hear it. Gears were grinding, servos were hesitating and motors were overheating, but the single-minded machine pressed its attack.
I knew that, when it got through the door below me, I'd have but a fraction of a second to engage it before it again turned its armored front toward me. The chewed up door slammed open as the drone’s tracks hit it. It moved in with its gun pressed against the door sill, it was wasting no time trying to bring it to bear against me.
The Battle of Broken Moon Page 25
