Inquisitor (26 page)

“I don’t want to act human. I want to be better.”

“Huh. Like the Genevolves?”

“No… I…”

“You’re just like them,” Angel stated flatly.

She continued her search of the Genevolve systems and data. Genome mapping, breeding programs, family trees, research notes, trait selection criteria, experimental results—both successful and… grotesquely not. Too much information. She didn’t know what to make of it. There was nothing the Inquisitors didn’t know, or suspect, already. They only lacked these details.

“No,” Charlotte said. “I’m not. I just want to live, free. They want to destroy humanity.”

Angel gave Charlotte a level look. The girl gazed back at her, appearing uncertain and a little forlorn. “Except we suspect only some of them do.” There had to be more in the Genevolve systems, something she could use. She was missing something.

A note came to the fore: a communication from the self-styled leader of the Genevolves at the time, Dr. Twentyman-Jones, the scientist who’d started it all. It began like a routine message, congratulating everyone on their research and how far they’d come in such a short space of time; outlining what was coming, a possible backlash against their “cutting-edge research”; admonishing everyone involved to stay true to their beliefs in the face of the coming adversity; that what they were doing was for the good of humanity…

She scanned the communication again. Its meaning was clear. There was no mistake. Somehow, somewhere along the way, the Genevolve purpose had been corrupted. Perhaps at first the organization had one clear purpose. Then, as with all organizations, those within it who
believed
in the goals were displaced by those who were dedicated to the organization itself. It wouldn’t take long. Years rather than decades. One strong personality could have gained a voice, glossing over the old goal with their own version more aligned to their desires. Small changes here and there. Disaffection. Division. A scenario that happened all too often.

Angel sagged with relief. So, she wasn’t a monster. But still… she wanted nothing to do with the Genevolves. She sent the information to Charlotte.

A few seconds later, Charlotte spoke. “You can’t run from it, Angel. I know you. You’ll need to find out the truth.”

“Of course I will. But who’ll believe me?”

“Some will. Most won’t.”

“If the Genevolves have strayed from their original purpose, it doesn’t matter. They’ll be judged on their actions now and their future intent.” But she knew Crissalt had been right. Not all Genevolves were the same. It was clear now. Humanity had been waging a war on all the Genevolves, including those who only wanted to help. But which type was Summer? And did it matter? Either way, Summer wanted Charlotte dead or enslaved again.

“Angel, we can discuss this later. The Genevolve following us is closing in.”

“Now you have control of the manufactory, you can shut her out.”

Charlotte shook her head. “It’s too late. She’s preempted me and corrupted some of the systems. She has power over a fair portion of the manufactory.”

Angel closed her eyes for a moment. “This gets better and better.” She found the system configuration and ran her own diagnostic. Charlotte was right. Her control stopped at certain points, running into blockages and walls. She drew in a deep breath and let it out. “Whatever you wanted to do here is compromised. She’ll expect us to dig in and wait for her to make the first move.”

“I need this manufactory. It has… it’s what I need.”

“And what are you after, Charlotte? You don’t need her anymore. Your plan B—me—came through. We could blow this whole place up and the Genevolve along with it. But you won’t do that, will you?” Angel narrowed her eyes. “You’ve lost control, but you won’t destroy this manufactory. There’s a reason we’re here. Why I’m here. Why she’s here. You need this place. What do you need, Charlotte?”

Charlotte’s eyes were wide. She blinked once. Twice. “I haven’t told you what they did to me, to a little girl. They…” Charlotte averted her eyes. “They… took me apart. Saved what they needed, discarded the rest. Genevolve technology was used to meld machine and flesh—my brain. I’m… still in there, somewhere… but it’s not really me. Angel, in the Mercurial laboratory I was… a caterpillar. Now I’m a chrysalis, an in between form. I survive, but I cannot grow. Without resources and raw materials, without being
free
… I’m unable to evolve.” Charlotte looked imploringly at her. “Angel, I need you to command the manufactory to do what I want. Bring me to life.”

Angel couldn’t help herself; she almost snorted with derision before thinking better of it. “You’re alive. I believe you are. You just want more. Like they do.”

“I’m nothing like them,” Charlotte hissed.

“Then prove it. We need to warn humanity. Compared with that, our personal goals are secondary. At the moment, we’re in the same boat. She’ll kill me and confine you again. Whatever we both want, we have to get out of here.”

“I’m not leaving.”

“You have to. She has to follow us. She can’t stay here. You are what she wants. This… manufactory is a bonus. But without you, she has failed. She’ll leave,” said Angel confidently. “This is the past. You are their future. Or they want you to be.”

A hard look came into Charlotte’s eyes. “I want to determine my own future.”

“Then come,” Angel said. “Leave here. She might not notice we’ve gone, at least for a while. We’ll spin up our part of the manufactory to make something: automatons to come after her. They’ll keep her busy. Leave her fighting ghosts.”

“All right. I should have… never mind. I can find the rest of the Genus. I can change. I’ll show you. But we need to survive here first.”

Angel nodded. She couldn’t ask for any more than what Charlotte had given her. She just hoped all her questions, her pushing and prodding, had led Charlotte down the correct path.

“Then you’ll need access to the manufactory systems. I’ll patch you in.”

And Angel gave the command, opening a hole for Charlotte to enter through.

Charlotte smiled at Angel. “I’m starting up all the manufactories I can. I don’t know what she’ll do, so I’ll produce different types of automatons.”

“She might try to destroy our manufactories as well.”

“Of course. I’ll build defenses.”

Angel brought up an internal schematic of the facility. Train tunnels ran all the way through the shell, like veins, with stations every twenty kilometers or so.

“You worry about building automatons. And see if you can disrupt her manufactories. But can you make some ordnance for me?”

“Yes. But I just scanned the facility, and there are some left over. Kinetic missiles and micro-nukes, among others. It’ll be quicker to use them; no need to make any.”

Angel raised her eyebrows. “They’re centuries old. Will they still function?”

“There’s a chance they may… trigger prematurely.”

“Great. Then—wait.” An orange blip had appeared at the station closest to Summer. Angel waited, and after a few seconds, it moved down the tunnel toward them. “She’s coming. She’s using the trains.” Angel moved to the door, gripping her hand-cannon. “Deliver what you can to the closest station. Don’t worry about me. Make automatons as fast as you can. Our lives probably depend on it.”

Angel darted out the door and sprinted toward the station.
Hurry!
She urged herself.

She made better time than she thought, skidding to a stop as she entered, the vaulted ceiling towering above her. It was a few hundred meters long and fifty wide. Metal rails stretched across the plascrete floor, appearing from a tunnel in one wall and disappearing through another dark opening at the other end. It was already a hive of activity. Maintenance automatons trundled along the platform, and close to the center was an enormous cargo elevator. Its doors were open, and loaders were removing large metal crates. She jogged over to them, at the same time checking how close Summer’s train was. Halfway already. Not good.

“Charlotte, what’s in this one?” Angel slapped the side of a crate.

[Kinetic missiles. They’re… I wouldn’t advise using them in the tunnels.]

Too heavy.
The ordnance was all made for larger scale battles. Inside, in such a confined space, it could very well annihilate her. It would be insanity to use them.
Maybe that’s what Summer is hoping I’ll think.

“Pass me control of a few loaders and maintenance-bots. I’ll need help. How are you doing?”

There was a brief hesitation from Charlotte. [Not the best. Summer managed to sabotage a number of my manufactories. I should have seen what she was… Anyway, we were pushed back, but now we’re holding our own. She’s good… smart.]

Charlotte’s words gave Angel pause. If she thought Summer was intelligent, that meant something. “Can you hold her machines off?”

[For the time being. We’re approaching peak capacity. Once we reach that point, there’s nothing much I can do. They’ll keep making automatons, and they’ll keep fighting until one side is defeated or they run out of raw materials. Then they’ll recycle the destroyed automatons.]

“We need to get out of here.”

[Focus on Summer.]

“Yeah.” Angel checked the train tunnel schematic. Three-quarters of the way.

She directed loaders to position the kinetic missiles near the opening Summer’s train would enter from. With luck, she’d exit the tunnel without realizing they were behind her. For good measure, she directed another one to position a plasma cannon in the same area. In fact… it was probably the safest spot. The missiles had to be unpacked and readied for use. If she had more time, she would shoot one up the tunnel, but she doubted any of them would be ready by then.

“Charlotte.”

[Yes?]

“How much time will I have from when the missiles are ready to when Summer arrives? If it is her and not just a train filled with lethal automatons.”

[Approximately… two to three seconds.]

Too close. “Thanks.”

[Set them up and leave them. We can get the automatons to fire them.]

Though Charlotte couldn’t see her, Angel shook her head. “No. If it is Summer, I need to make sure she’s dead.”

[Angel—]

“What’s your situation?”

[She’s copying everything I do. Even taking my schematics, then adding her own changes. We already have three thousand eight hundred and twenty-four automatons. Summer has a few hundred more. Both our numbers are fairly steady. As some are destroyed, others are made. It’s… you should see this.]

Images flashed into Angel’s implants—streams from sensors located all around the manufactories. Bursts of light cascaded from thousands of points. The sensors registered overlapping shockwaves reaching crescendos of high-pressure disruptive peaks. Machines shot lasers at other machines. Missiles flew in all directions. Plasma bolts and physical projectiles seemed to penetrate random automatons. She couldn’t tell who was who—which ones were Charlotte’s and which were Summer’s. It was a seething mass of chaos. Out of manufactories poured newly forged automatons, streams of hastily constructed bots made for one purpose: to kill each other.

Angel stood there, transfixed by the sheer industry and destructiveness of it all.

[Summer’s almost at your location.]

She shook her head and banished the sensor feeds. “All right. She’ll find a surprise waiting.”

[Angel… good luck.]

“You too. This will be over soon, one way or the other. I’ll join you when I can.” She tried not to think about dying. There was no point. She had to see this through, somehow.

A breeze ruffled her hair, coming from the tunnel: the train approaching, pushing air before it. In moments, it strengthened to a strong wind. Angel positioned herself in between two metal crates and drew her hand-cannon. She checked the automatons and the missiles were ready. Damn it… Less than fifty percent of the old weapons were in operable status. Still, it would only take one to annihilate the train. The platform began vibrating. Her shoulder, resting on the side of a crate, reverberated along with the container.

A thundering roar exploded from the opening, followed by a bright silver train.

Too fast. It won’t stop. Why…?
Carriages hurtled past at lightning speed. Angel stood, staring at the train as it flew by. There was no screech of brakes, no lessening of velocity. It didn’t make sense.

[Angel! There’s another train coming the other way! I don’t know how she hid it. Stop them if you can!]

Summer’s plan unfolded in her mind. Two speeding trains colliding inside the station. Devastation. A breech in their defenses. Which meant… Summer had to be coming in after it.

She squirted a command to the missiles to fire—a few kinetics at each. Targeting the second train wouldn’t be a problem; once they were inside the tunnel, it was a straight shot.

Heat brushed her face as reaction engines ignited. Steam and smoke and fuel-chemical-reaction byproducts swirled around her. Bright plumes of engine exhaust rocketed down the platform. Thunder echoed inside the station as the train was torn apart. Tortured metal squealed. A missile blasted the track in front of it in an attempt to reduce its speed. The train jerked from side to side, and sparks cascaded. Chunks of twisted alloy landed on the platform with metallic crashes, their edges glowing orange. Flames burst from the carriages, white and red and yellow eruptions.

More plumes disappeared down the other tunnel. Moments later, the darkness of the opening was illuminated with flares of light. The initial glare dimmed, to be replaced by an orange glow. Then the first train, derailed from Angel’s missiles, slammed into the side of the opening. Angel staggered as the ground shook from the impact. She pressed a hand to a crate to steady herself—just as another train exited the tunnel next to her. No—the end carriage, which had been decoupled and decelerated.

She brought up her hand-cannon, squinting.

A figure leapt from the roof—the pixie receptionist from Mercurial. Angel fired a shot before Summer slammed into her, sending her flying. She crashed into a wall and slumped to the ground. Pain lanced through her chest. She couldn’t breathe. She managed to lurch to her knees and tried to bring her weapon up—but her fingers closed on empty air. She’d dropped her gun.