The Mothership (53 page)

Virus studied the symbol, sensing its
familiarity, yet unable to summon its meaning. He shrugged helplessly.

“Call it, Doc,” Vamp said urgently.

Dr McInness starred anxiously at the
screen, unable to decide what to tell Beckman. “I . . . I don’t know.”

Before he could decide, the magnetic field
engulfing the security door pulsed, wrenching the radio from his hand. Behind
him, the metallic gear carried by Vamp and Virus was caught in an iron grip.
Both of them grabbed the console chairs to prevent being pulled to the door,
frantically shrugging off ammo belts and straps with buckles as their weapons
and equipment were sucked to the door. Gear that had been firmly sealed in
pockets shredded their clothes as it shot toward the super magnetic field. Even
the specials flew from their holsters and crashed into the swelling bubble.

“Doc, are they friend or foe?” Beckman’s
voice sounded hollowly from the radio stuck to the center of the door.

Dr McInness stared at the six shapes,
unable to decide, then the radio sparked and crumpled as it was crushed under
its own weight.

Virus gave Dr McInness an angry look. “He
needed an answer! That’s what you’re here for. You should have guessed!”

“Hey,” Vamp snapped at Virus. “He didn’t
know!”

“I’m sorry,” Dr McInness said miserably.

Virus turned back to the screen, drawn
irresistibly back to the symbols floating beside the six ships, their meaning
almost within reach, while the magnetic field pulsed again, more strongly. The
door squealed and folded out like rubber, creating a vertical tear down the
right side. Through the fractures, they saw armored seekers outside, waiting
for the door to collapse.

The fog hiding the meaning of the symbol
floating beside the ships finally cleared from Virus’ mind. Too late, he said,
“It means . . . Unknown.”

* * * *

Cracker fired down
at the maintenance drones working to free the battloid at the bottom of the
Nexus Chamber, then his pistol clicked empty. “I’m out.”

Slab slammed a clip into his weapon. “This
is my last one.”

They heard metal footsteps rapidly
approaching and turned to see a weaponized seeker burst out of a nearby
corridor. They opened up on it together, but the seeker’s shields deflected
their attacks as it rotated its twin cannons toward them about to fire.

Wal stepped back, eyes wide, “Oh shit!”

The seeker was struck by a brilliant orange
blob that angled past its shields drove its shattered torso into the wall. It
wobbled momentarily on shaky legs before falling onto the walkway. They stared
in confusion at the smoking wreckage, then Slab glanced across at the sphere.
Tucker stood in the entry to the inner sphere with Conan still aimed at the
crippled seeker. He gave Slab a nod, then looked for a new target.

“Not bad,” Slab admitted with grudging
approval.

The echo of more metallic footsteps
charging toward the Nexus Chamber sounded from the corridor, then a second
weaponized seeker appeared beside the smoking ruin of the first. Cracker fired
rapidly at its legs, which buckled underneath it.

Bill glanced over at the containment
sphere, seeing Beckman’s team were now inside. “They’re in.”

“Good, now let’s get the hell out of here,”
Cracker said.

“No, let’s stay and have tea and bickies
with the psycho killer robots,” Wal said, then he made a face that showed how
ludicrous the idea was, and immediately sprinted for the nearest corridor
adjoining the walkway. He was halfway to the exit, before the others started
after him.

“The big bastard’s almost free,” Slab said,
stealing a look over the edge at the battloid below.

“Nothing we can do about it with skinny out
there and no ammo,” Bill said as he reached the exit.

Behind them, the crippled seeker pushed
itself against the chamber wall and fired as they darted into the corridor,
peppering the entrance with cannon fire. Slab stopped inside the entryway and
stole a look back around the corner at the walkway. The seeker was dragging
itself after them, its crippled legs trailing uselessly behind. A maintenance
drone swooped in, lifted it off the walkway and glided after them. Slab emptied
his M16’s last clip into the drone, which crashed onto the walkway with the
seeker. The crippled seeker pushed the drone’s wreckage away, then it started
crawling after them again. With unnerving synchronization, another drone dived
toward the walkway and scooped up the seeker. Slab turned and keeping his empty
gun for a club, ran into the dark corridor after the others.

In the central sphere, Tucker saw the
second drone lift the crippled seeker into the air and sweep over the walkway
after them. He thumbed Conan’s firing surface, but the weapon was still
recharging. “Come on, damn you,” he snarled as the drone and the crippled
seeker vanished into the corridor.

A few meters further in, Beckman thumbed
his radio. “Doc, call it!” He let valuable seconds pass, but the radio remained
silent.
Six more ships!
Beckman thought desperately, then receiving no
reply, he turned to Markus and Tucker. “Cover the entrance. Nuke, you’re with
me!”

“You can’t go through with it,” Markus said
as he and Tucker fell back from the entrance, firing whenever a machine flew
into their field. “You heard what McInness said, there are more ships in
orbit!”

“We don’t know what side they’re on,”
Beckman said as he led Nuke down the passageway.

Their skin prickled as they approached the
protective field holding the enormous crystal sphere in place. When they
reached the end of the passageway, they discovered the spherical chamber was
almost ten meters across with barely a meter separating the spinning crystal
from the containment vessel’s inner wall. The interior of the chamber was lined
with millions of tiny diamond-like points that collectively created a smooth,
scintillating surface, while the crystal sphere itself was covered in tiny
facets that emitted streams of electric blue light. As the sphere turned,
flecks of glowing white light flashed deep inside its core, blending with the
blue beams. Light reflected back and forth between the diamantine sphere and
the wall’s inner lining, creating trillions of connections a second. Each
momentary connection passed a flood of information to and from every part of
the ship and every sentient machine at the speed of light.

“If Tiffany’s could only get their hands on
this baby,” Nuke exclaimed.

“Every woman’s dream,” Beckman agreed. “Now
blow it to hell. One minute.”

Nuke swallowed apprehensively, then set the
torpedo housing and the power pack down. He fixed his eyes on his watch,
hovering his finger over the live detonator button. “In sixty seconds, mark.”

Beckman keyed his mike for anyone who could
still hear him. “Listen up, people. If you need to make your peace, now’s the
time. We go in one minute.” He swallowed, then added in a less formal tone,
“See you on the other side.”

At the entrance, the battloid floated up
into view, finally free of the blast door. Markus backed away, as if distancing
himself from the battloid, intent on closing the distance to Nuke. Tucker
fired, but Conan’s massive blasts evaporated harmlessly against the battloid’s
upgraded shields.

Tucker glanced at the antimatter warhead,
then turned with a crooked grin. “Too late, mother fucker.” He straightened
defiantly, resigned to his fate.

The battloid’s weapon arms aimed at them,
but incredibly, did not fire. Like all the machines, it obeyed the orders of
the Command Nexus without question, but it was self aware and capable of making
its own tactical judgments. It knew at that range, it’s cannons would punch
through the field enveloping the glittering crystalline sphere behind them. If
it fired, it would destroy the Command Nexus spinning slowly behind them.

That was something it could not do.

The striker’s
winged shadow slid slowly across the crevice floor. Laura and Mapuruma pressed
against the rock wall beneath an overhang that hid them from the deadly hunter
prowling above. Off to their left lay the dark cave mouth they’d emerged from
only moments before. It had been a cramped climb, at times treacherous, with
cave walls polished smooth by wet season deluges and spaces so narrow that
Laura could only squeeze through with Mapuruma’s help. Holding hands in
silence, they watched the winged shadow glide to the end of the crevice, stop
and rotate slowly.

At the end of the crevice, the striker’s
thermal sensors struggled vainly to separate the intense heat radiating off sun
drenched rocks from Laura and Mapuruma’s weaker heat signatures. If they moved,
the seeker’s motion sensor would detect them, even through a dozen meters of
solid rock. On the bleached rock below the striker, a marbled velvet gecko
watched the black winged shape drifting toward it with instinctual fear.
Sensing it had been seen, the gecko darted away across the rock face seeking
the safety of a crevice. The striker’s motion detectors immediately spotted the
tiny lizard’s movement. Both wingtip cannons swiveled toward the gecko and
fired, vaporizing it and several meters of rock. Moments later, a trickle of
lava flowed down the cliff face and dripped onto the rocky ground below.

Laura and Mapuruma tensed as they heard the
striker’s cannon fire followed by the hiss of boiling rock. Laura shifted her
weight, wanting to creep further along under the overhang toward deeper shadow,
but Mapuruma tightened her grip. Wide-eyed with fear, Mapuruma shook her head,
pleading for Laura to remain still. Laura hesitated, then deciding to trust
Mapuruma’s instincts, forced herself to relax.

The striker glided over the crater marking
the gecko’s last moment of life, then floated up the weathered cliff face and
moved off over the ridge. Laura and Mapuruma remained motionless a long time,
listening for cannon fire and watching for winged shadows. When Laura was sure
the striker had gone, she drew Timer’s radio detonator from her pocket.
Releasing her grip on Mapuruma, she crept out from beneath the overhang. She
looked up past the shriveled trees clinging to the cliff tops, finding the sky
was clear except for the distortion pattern of the shield dome high above.

She glanced at Mapuruma hiding in the
shadows. “Wait there.”

Laura crept along the crevice floor, which
gradually widened to reveal the Walker River snaking through red sandstone
gorges bordered by lush green forest. Solitary birds of prey circled above the
valley, quartering back and forth just as the striker had done. Far across the
valley, the vast shield dome rose out of the trees like a shimmering,
translucent curtain which rolled skyward toward its apex high above the
mothership. She realized she had no idea where along the base of the shield
wall the explosives were placed. The perimeter towers were obscured by trees
and by the inside of the shield itself, leaving her to wonder if she was even
facing the right part of the dome. She pulled the telescoping aerial out to its
full length and pressed the ‘arm’ button, then her finger hovered over the
‘detonate’ button. Her mind was filled with memories of her husband, of happy
times and shared love. She knew if she pressed that button, their future
together would be no more.

While Laura stared at the detonator,
Mapuruma emerged from the shelter of the overhang and stood beside her. The
little girl looked up with wide eyes, watching Laura uncertainly. “What’s the
matter?”

Laura looked down, trapped by Mapuruma’s
innocent brown eyes. Laura realized if she didn’t do it, she was putting every
child at risk.
Dan, I’m sorry!

She held the timer out at arm’s length,
aiming the aerial to the east and pressed the red ‘fire’ button. At that
distance, she couldn’t hear the sound of Timer’s demolition charges exploding,
shattering the emitter array at the top of the perimeter tower. The trees hid
the explosion, south of where she was looking. For a few moments she stared at
the shield dome, thinking nothing had happened. She pressed the ‘fire’ button
again, several times, then sighed disappointed.

“Is it broken?” Mapuruma asked.

Before she could answer, a vertical tear
appeared to the south east, above the shattered emitter array. It ripped up the
side of the curtain, forming a narrow slit that revealed blue sky beyond. When
the fissure reached the apex, a flash filled the sky as the instability
triggered a cascade failure. A tiny hole appeared at the apex, expanding slowly
at first, then rapidly rolling down the sides, dropping the shield with perfect
symmetry.

“It is now,” Laura said solemnly.

Mapuruma pulled on her sleeve. The little
girl was staring back up the crevice, terror on her face. Laura turned to see the
black striker gliding toward them above the crevice, its menacing black hull
stark against the clear blue sky above. It slowed to a hover then nosed down
toward them, angling its weapon at them.

Laura glanced over her shoulder, searching
for an escape, but their backs were to the cliff face. Mapuruma put her arm
around Laura’s waist, hugging her tight, while Laura cradled the girl’s head,
pulling her face toward her, knowing they were both about to die. Laura eyes
locked irresistibly on the machine, waiting to see the final moment of her
life.