Gruefield 18 (Tarnished Sterling Omnibus)

by Robert McCarroll

  "No so tough," Kevan said. I groaned inwardly. Not only was it a stupid thing to say, there was the swarm of smaller robots. They crawled off the larger bot, dragging the leg back. Turrets on each of the little bots held laser welders, and they were in the process of reattaching the leg as the bigger bot stood up. It was built to the same overall shape as the smaller bots, right down to the turret on its back. I wasn't the only one who noticed the similarity, judging by the expression on Kevan's face. He got under the front end of the robot and lifted it up. Twin beams of white-hot particles jetted towards the sky, slicing through the clear ceiling panels. A momentary rush of wind was drawn through the breech before a steel bulkhead slammed closed over the compromised section.

  The heavy legs of the robot pummeled Kevan. His annoyed grunts rattled over the radio channel as he took hits. With a single stroke of bright white light, Omegaburn cut the robot in half. Kevan set about stomping on the smaller bots that scurried to tie the halves together. "What was that?"

  "Mining and maintenance robots," Jace said, barely glancing in our direction. "Behavior suggests that they may have a secondary security function."

  "How many of these things are there?" Kevan asked.

  "Unknown," Jace said. "However, this facility is self-sustaining, and has the capacity to manufacture more as needed." We all looked up as a small swarm of the smaller robots scurried over the roof. I tensed up as they moved overhead. The lot congregated outside the panel behind the steel bulkhead. I watched as they started cutting. Another pack marched across the skylights with another clear panel held between them. They efficiently swapped out the damaged panel for the new one. Once they'd finished, the bulkhead retracted and they scurried off, carrying the damaged panel with them.

  "I can see why this place looks pristine," I said.

  "Up close we can clobber them readily enough," Kevan said. "But with the holes the big one burned in the ceiling, we won't do so well at range."

  "What is that expression?" Jace asked. "I have good news and bad news."

  "What's the good news?" Omegaburn asked.

  "I have gained control of this node."

  "And the bad news?"

  "The computer has disconnected the uplink to the central core. It is likely we will need to locate it directly to gain control of the entire facility."

  "What can we do with control of this node?" Omegaburn asked.

  "We can trigger the gate back to Earth, and shut down the methane production."

  "What's the benefit of the second one?" Kevan asked.

  "It will allow us to add environmental equipment to convert the atmosphere to an oxygen mix. That will permit us to use the habitat module as a staging area for further searches for the location of the central processing node."

  "Why do we have to add hardware? Can't we just switch the life support system that's here?" Kevan asked.

  "It's not designed to produce oxygen."

  "Two questions," I said. "Can we keep the computer from retaking control of this node, and what is to prevent it from simply shutting off power for this area?"

  "The computer is not sentient, it's actions will depend upon the intrusion response algorithms programmed into it," Jace said. "I do not know what its protocols are. I will reconfigure this node to reduce the chances of remote takeover."

  "So what is our plan if it does cut the power?" Wolfjack asked.

  "From the available information, the gate is independently powered as a safety measure," Jace said. "We will not be cut off from prompt return."

  "All right," Omegaburn said. "Wolfjack, I want to you go back and tell the Fund that we need suitable armaments for dealing with these robots at range. I'm sure we have something stashed away for contingencies."

  "I thought that's what powers were for," Wolfjack said, a touch of sarcasm coming into his voice.

  "Only when we don't know what we're up against. This place is infested with robots and can make more. It'd be stupid to continue unprepared." Omegaburn sighed. "Also mention the possibility of getting new environmental systems in here."

  "Will do."

  Part 7

  I hadn't realized how much I'd started to get used to the conditions until I'd stepped through the portal and my arms felt leaden in Earth's gravity. The crushing weight of the life support pack on my back didn't help. Instead of heading to the control center, I was directed down the hall to Launcher Three. It was virtually identical to Launcher One in overall layout, only without the apparatus that had been built over there. The side rooms here had been turned into a storage and staging area for the mission. I shed my life support gear by the table with my name on it. Someone had already lined up replacement packs while we were gone. Other crates with cryptic markings had been packed into the space.

  I was somewhat surprised to see Uncle Kyle there. Or, I should call him Infernoclast, as he'd shown up in-costume. Mostly white with large, light blue panels, his costume was minimalist in design. Because of the color scheme, a lot of people mistook him for having ice powers at first glance. He was actually an energy absorber. His other powers were charged by the energy he absorbed, and if he hadn't soaked anything in, he'd be more or less normal. As Omegaburn cast him an askance glance, I realized the two were almost complete opposites. Flight versus anchoring, fire versus absorption, female versus male. I tried not to smirk as it wasn't as funny as it felt.

  "Were you sent to take over?" Omegaburn asked, warily.

  "No," Kyle said. "You're still in charge. You've just been given my services, along with all of Eight Beta. Though I hear one of them is still on medical, and we don't have safety gear for the dragon-boy."

  From the hallway, I heard Xiv's disappointed, "Oh." It had to be his wings that were the problem. Getting the thin membrane into an elastic pressure suit was bound to cause injury.

  "So what have you brought for me then?" Omegaburn asked.

  "Lasers, atmospheric equipment, and a high-gain radio transmitter. Admittedly, it takes almost twenty minutes for a radio signal to get from Mars to Earth at their current alignment. But in case of emergency, you can still phone home."

  "Lets get the atmospherics installed, so we don't have to keep jumping through that gate. I'd rather keep that to a minimum."

  "Don't trust it?" Kyle asked.

  "Of course I don't. We have no idea how it works."

  "Perhaps we should stock up the other side with enough food and water so the advance team can hold out for rescue by more conventional means then."

  "While I don't want to appear paranoid," Omegaburn said, "It is in the job description."

  Kyle nodded. "If I may, it might be the most efficient if the advance team started setting up the atmospheric equipment over there. I can give the rest of the lot a crash course on the safety equipment and get them up to speed. Then we can come over and help finish setting things up."

  Omegaburn thought about it for a moment. "Works for me."

  "The atmospherics are in the crates closest to the door. I put them there under the assumption they'd be needed first. If the robots were sieging the beachhead, the lasers are small enough to unpack and carry over."

  "Thank you," Omegaburn said in a tone that was edging into 'piss off' territory. Kyle's departure left the tension hanging in the air. The Fund was overstocked with assertive personalities, and heroes who worked alone instinctively took charge upon arrival. It didn't help that, given their ages, Kyle had been active as a sidekick before Omegaburn was even born. I was guessing on her age, but mid-twenties fit with the information I had. I'm sure Kyle would say he was just being helpful.

  There was a small celebration when the nitrogen-methane atmosphere was finally replaced with with a nitrogen-oxygen one. It had taken a few hours longer than we had reserve atmosphere, so we'd gone back to Gruefield for replacement packs twice. W
e set up an emergency station in one of the empty storage rooms. It was a set of life support pods that someone could jump into in case of a 'pressure incident'. In other words, some place to go if the wall gets blown out and you weren't in a full suit. The glass-faced tubes were a last resort, but there was no point in being reckless.

  "So, how sure are we that the air's good?" Wolfjack asked.

  "Spectrographic analysis shows it as comparable to Earth standard," Jace said.

  "What about microbes?"

  "There are no known pathogens that are compatible with both human and Uta|la||tek|li biochemistry. As for abiotic toxins, there are none showing in the atmosphere."

  "And on the surfaces?"

  "Don't lick your fingers," Kevan said, releasing the neck seal on his helmet and pulling it off. He took in a deep breath, looked around, and shrugged. He said something that was muffled by my helmet. Since he looked none the worse for wear, I cautiously removed my helmet. The building reeked, a strong ammonia scent, like stale urine.

  "What is that smell?" I asked.

  "That's what I just said," Kevan said.

  "I couldn't hear you through my helmet."

  "In all probability, the odor is from the spoiled rations Shadowdemon found," Jace said.

  "I see you're not taking your helmet off," Kevan said.

  "My system can dynamically shift between internal and external atmosphere, depending upon conditions. It is safer to leave it on."

  Omegaburn set her helmet on one of the odd plastic stands around the table. I took a wild guess that it was an Uta|la||tek|li chair. With the lower gravity, climbing onto one was not a significant challenge. I was only able to avoid having the rim biting into my legs by sitting cross-legged in the central depression.

  "You've been collating information?" Omegaburn asked.

  "Indeed," Jace said. He tapped at the device strapped to his arm and the table near me lit up. It projected a wireframe of the mining facility in amber lines above the surface. "This facility map was within the local node. It does not contain technical schematics, and is apparently maintained for non-staff visitors."

  "That sounds too convenient," Kevan said.

  "Not us," I said. "More like corporate auditors from the builders' superiors."

  "While not strictly accurate, it is a good enough analogy," Jace said.

  "So where's the 'you are here' marker?" Kevan asked. With a tap, a blip appeared on one of the smaller structures along the lip of the pit.

  "We are here," Jace said. "It does not state where the computer core is located. However, as the other rim structures are a fabrication plant, a storehouse, and a refinery, I would hazard a guess that it is in one of the towers of the excavator."

  "That's a short flight," Kevan said.

  "I can't fly," Jace said.

  "Technically, with Wolfjack's help..."

  Jace took a step back, a long, dissonant warble audible even through the material of his helmet. After it stopped, the translator drone said simply, "No."

  "That option's off the table," I said. "He agreed to lend assistance, not take unnecessary risks. We'd have absolutely no cover if the mining robots started shooting from the excavator."

  "That was not the first thing that came to mind," Jace said.

  "Anyway," Omegaburn said. "The computer's been fairly... passive as far as we can tell."

  "It is designed to operate a mining station," Jace said. "The first line of defense would have been its builders."

  We were interrupted by a somewhat giddy laugh. It was Donny, leaning against the window, his thick plastic skull mask all but pressed against the pane.

  "Do you mind?" I asked.

  Donny cast a sheepish glance over his shoulder at us. "Sorry, it's my first time off-world."

  "Enjoy it quietly, all right?" Although if I'd been free to do so, I'd probably be standing right next to him, staring out at the Martian landscape. True, this particular spot was a bit uninteresting from a scenic standpoint, but still, Mars.

  "So, what's the optimal route to get there?" Omegaburn said, trying to steer the conversation back to planning our next move.

  "We have several options," Jace said. "The most direct would be to take the utility corridor over to the refinery and proceed across the excavator feed arm to the towers. We would be in a pressurized nitrogen-methane environment for the entire route and the probability of encountering mining robots and uncooperative doors is almost one."

  "And the less direct routes?"

  "Second option, we follow the same path, only outside the structure. This reduces the number of doors requiring bypass to two or four, but any encounters with robots will be at longer range. Third option, proceed along the floor of the mine and enter the tower from below. It has the advantage that the systems are unlikely to be designed to track intruders along inactive mine faces. However, it would be the most difficult route, and we would have no cover if we were discovered."

  "Could we cut off their supply of robots?" Kevan asked, jabbing his finger into the hologram at the fabrication plant.

  "Possibly, but it could force us into an attritional situation against those robots already built," Jace said. "Maintenance of the facility is dependent upon keeping the fabrication plant functional. The computer would be mandated by its primary function to retake it. The probability of a fatal incident increases with the scale and duration of combat activities."

  "In other words, it would be a pretty brutal slog, and we could end up being the first people to die on Mars," I said.

  "Gotcha," Kevan said.

  "Any way to fool the computer into thinking we're allowed to be here?" Wolfjack asked.

  "Issuing access rights requires access to the computer," Jace said. "It would possible after we take control of the system, but until then, that option is not available."

  "How does it tell we're not supposed to be here?"

  "We do not have portable access devices with authorized accounts," Jace said. "And are clearly not system robots."

  "Is it really that stupid?" I asked. "If there were a staff here and we swiped one of their pads, would it think we were them?"

  "These are generally implanted into the owner," Jace said. "Though a visitor's access device can be created that does not need to be."

  "So it's easier to take over the computer and grant ourselves access than to fool it," Omegaburn said. "Thoughts on which route we should try first?"

  "Since we're limited to a four-hour time frame," I said, "I would vote for over the outside of the feed arm. It gives us the best shot at withdrawing if we start to get bogged down."

  The unease that crossed Kevan's face told me he hadn't even thought about the limited air supply, or the possibility of it running out.

  "It also permits anyone held in reserve at the habitat to readily lend aid," Wolfjack said.

  The laser weapons had the same general form factor as a somewhat oversized and boxy rifle. Most of the bulk was taken up by resonance chambers which kept the beam bouncing around in a loop until it built up to peak amplitude. The phrase "a short delay" in the instruction manual did not bode well. I just knew that was going to bite someone if we got in the thick of it. But, in order to make the whole thing human-portable, the emitter was scaled down, and trickle-feeding energy into the beam was the only option. Even so, the power pack was backpack-sized, and fed through a thick, braided cable around where the magazine would be on a normal rifle. Since we already had a backpack with life support gear inside, we ended up wearing the power packs on our chests to balance the weight. Under normal gravity, the load would have been unbearable. As it was, the added weight almost let me walk normally.

  "You know, Arclight shot at me with much more compact laser weapons," I said.

  "It was probably the same em
itter, just without the resonance chamber, or with a much smaller one," Wolfjack said.

  "What makes you say that?"

  "He was a weapons designer for the Community Fund. This is probably his design."

  The only one not armed as we stepped into the airlock was Jace. I was tempted to inquire why, but decided against it. He seemed to be adapting to dealing with people, and being annoying might make someone realize I could be taken off this mission and put back on suspension. It was closing in on forty years since the previous humans had walked the Martian soil proper, and I was one airlock cycle from doing the same. The airlock was pretty big, but judging by the chairs and the corridors, the Uta|la||tek|li were pretty big themselves. If I had to guess, I'd say slightly smaller than a horse. That was based solely upon the artifacts they'd left behind, particularly the chairs.