The tunnel was fully fifteen meters high. When the EMP went off an incandescent blue cloud of flame billowed outward and upward straight into the ceiling of the corridor. The very air of the corridor seemed to be sucked away into the flaming maelstrom above. The two CO2 cylinders exploded simultaneously, one rocketing straight through the nearest 1123 causing it to fire wildly all around the corridor, sending sparks and metal fragments on a dozen different trajectories. Basalt and obsidian chips peppered the corridor in all directions. The other cylinder went straight through the wagons and whizzed just ten centimeters from Farr’s head before knocking a sizable chunk from the nearest wall. The rear wagon was propelled forward by the explosion, knocking Ming into a crumpled heap by the side of the tunnel. The wagon continued forward crashing into the back of Farr’s wagon, which then propelled him to the opposite side of the tunnel, where he banged hard off of the wall and collapsed to the tunnel floor. A cloud of odorous, flaming offal and waste rained down on the entire expanse of the tunnel.
But the EMP device had worked. Both warbots were limp, one still standing and the other lying on its side ten meters away.
Farr and Ming sat shakily up, their eyes glazed and their ears ringing, at the same time assessing the area of destruction caused by Takashi’s device. Both blinked and slowly scanned the tunnel, trying to orient themselves in the aftermath of the blast, their eyes unfocused, wide and a little wild.
“Well,” Ming said, wide eyed, shaking and breathing laboriously, “I think we can call that a success.”
“I blame this,” Farr said slowly in a voice just as shaky as Ming’s, breathing heavy and brushing flaming offal off of himself, “on Dr. Takashi’s overabundance of enthusiasm for the project and…”
“Works for me,” Ming said trying to breath.
“… and you for your distinct lack of oversight on the project.” Farr finished.
“Now that I think about it, this plan was mostly Takashi. I just assisted him. I really think he deserves the credit for its overwhelming success.” Ming tried and failed to stand, tried again and succeeded. Farr moved over next to him assessing their condition. He coughed a few times, attempted to brush some more of the offal from his body, wondered why and then just gave up. The smell would’ve been horrible; if that is, he could smell anything at all, which gratefully he couldn’t.
“Are you hurt?” Farr asked.
“Yes, my dignity is in shreds and I may suffer permanent psychological scarring from this little episode,” Ming replied crossly. “But unfortunately, it appears I’m going to live.”
“Me too,” Farr agreed.
They stood breathing heavily, slowly regaining their composure and then jumped as the worker machines came on the scene and attempted to drag the wagons off. They managed it, much to the surprise of the two men, although one of the machines wasn’t dragging much more than two wheels and an axle.
“Follow them,” Farr said still sounding winded, but moving quickly to overtake the receding machines. The machines dragged their gritty spoils down a long, lighted passageway and Farr removed his opticals, discovering he could see normally once again. He nudged Ming as they walked and Ming, seeing Farr’s opticals gone, removed his own.
“Thank you,” Ming said looking skyward. It lost some of its effect, however because the ceiling was only about three meters high in this area.
The passageway continued on for what seemed like an eternity to the two men, dead ending at a hatch that was three meters high and three times that wide. The worker bees approached the door and one of them, or both for all Farr knew must’ve transmitted a wireless code and the door opened.
“Stay very close to them,” Farr whispered in his command voice.
They entered the biome hugging the side of the robot workers and received their first glimpse of the fabled “garden” of Lunar Base Five.
CHAPTER 15
The first feeling that assaulted Farr’s senses as he entered the biome was the open expanse of the area. After several days in the dark and claustrophobic tunnels and caverns of this strange world, it felt as if he’d been reborn. His sense of smell suddenly returned to him and the rich, earthy aroma of living and growing things assailed his nostrils. Amazingly, it even overwhelmed the powerful stench that he’d had to admit was emanating from him and Ming.
But the entire stench couldn’t be attributed solely to him and Ming, Farr noted. The machines had dumped their odorous treasures into what appeared to be an ever growing pile of rotting, decaying offal that must’ve been there some time, because tentative green shoots were peeking out of the mass at various locations.
Farr was familiar with the processes of the dome, having studied the schematics carefully during the overhaul of Resolution. The plans indicated that smaller bots should be stationed along the wall and after a delivery by the gathering machines these bots would then process and distribute the material to the plant base of the dome. He spotted the small units tucked neatly into the side of the enclosure, dark, dusty and unmoving. This part of the system has already failed he told himself, so four months was an optimistic guess at the dome’s viability.
His gaze traveled upward toward the ceiling of this wide area. Through the graphene glass suspended seventy meters above him he saw the sun blazing in all of its luminesce glory. Its rapidly disappearing glory, he corrected himself. The farside was now fast approaching its two week long night and within hours the lights of the biome would be all that these plants had to sustain them. Looking around the enclosure carefully he saw a variety of plants growing in abundance, and others that were obviously dying. As his eyes swept the seven hundred and fifty meters from one side of the dome to the other, he noted an increasing number of dead areas sprinkled among the living. Huge trees, verdant and green, towered fifty meters into the soon to be black sky while others hung lank and listless, their leaves gray and their trunks withered.
The dome was dying. Takashi and Skorsson were right. Maybe four months, he thought, probably less. His glance turned to Ming who was gazing with the eyes of love on the verdant open space. He suddenly looked like the Ming of old, all depression and cynicism gone, carefree and happy go lucky. Farr’s gaze continued to sweep the entire area and suddenly he froze and the pit of his stomach knotted.
“Heads up,” Farr whispered to Ming using the commbud. “We’ve got company at your two o’clock. Ming, don’t move and stay close to the worker machines.”
“Not a problem,” Ming said tightly, remaining absolutely still and gazing down the expanse of the dome at the monstrosity approaching them.
The 1123, it was painfully obvious, was on its last legs. The gun appendage on the right side was hanging limp and listless. Its irregular gate indicated sensor and electromotor problems. But its left gun appendage appeared to be functioning just fine and was in the alert posture, raised to fire.
“These models had internal programming that wouldn’t let them initiate fire at a target if there was a possibility of damaging an essential component or system they were designed to protect.”
“And we’re sure their programming is fully intact because of the overall excellent condition of the unit, of course.” Ming said sarcastically.
“Well,” Farr said blandly, “You go with what you know and hope for the best.”
“Commander, if you don’t mind me saying, that plan sounds a little thin.”
“I’m open to a better one,” Farr replied. “Got one?”
“I’m working on it,” Ming said fiercely. He kept his head down just enough to make himself nonthreatening, but his eyes were able to track the 1123 which appeared to have not seen or even noted them yet. Ming recognized a pattern to the unit’s behavior and told Farr.
“Looks like it’s operating on a standard patrolling pattern program,” he whispered.
“That’s what I was thinking too. If we wait for it to turn away we can probably move from system to system within the dome for protection. We just have to avoid getting cau
ght out in the open.”
“Figured that out all on my own,” Ming said acidly, his eyes covertly searching the various junction boxes and terminals scattered throughout the broken landscape. Unlike the dome in Six, there were no executive living quarters here. The ones in Six had been for the benefit of the elite corporate officers when they’d visit the site. The only building in this entire area was located dead center within the garden. This would be the Systems Control Center Ming thought, containing all of the operating instructions, communications and computer systems that allowed it to function. Ming knew that in the days before the Calamity this building would be manned and monitored by people continually. In fact there were living quarters in the ten meter by ten meter two story facility.
“If we can get inside the SCC I think we’ll be safe,” Ming said.
“That’s a hundred and fifty meters from here,” Farr said dubiously, covertly eyeing the facility.
“Yeah, bit of a run,” Ming replied quickly and casually, “But we’re home free if we can get inside.”
“How exactly are we going to get inside that building while dodging a two hundred kilogram killing machine with rapid fire capability?”
“Quincy gave us the master key, remember? We can dodge from this position to that junction relay station; about forty meters, and from there to that power transfer bus, say forty five meters, and from there to the field station that manually controls the systems in this section, thirty meters more or less, and from there to the SCC. It’s a piece of cake!” Ming said reassuringly.
“I don’t understand that…” Farr commenced, but Ming cut him off.
“It means easy, Callum,” Ming said crossly. “It’ll be easy.”
“I think that’s an oversimplification of the problem, but I don’t have any other ideas, so lead on, it’s your plan.”
“Gee thanks for the underwhelming support fearless leader,” Ming muttered under his breath.
“You do know I can still hear you don’t you?” Farr voice said deadpan.
“Yes, actually I do. But I’ll probably die horribly in the next few seconds so that fact is rather low in my priority list,” Ming said maliciously. “I’ll go first, and once I move on to the next station you start your routine.”
“Roger.” Farr said shortly holding his breath and hoping for the best as Ming prepared to run. The split second the 1123’s course turned its view away from the two men Ming sprinted toward the relay station while Farr said a fervent prayer for his safe arrival.
—————
The particular Kashi 1123 Death Bringer warbot confronting Ming and Farr had rolled off of the assembly line in 2103. It was part of a special security program initiated by Alekos Antonopoulos, then CEO of Strategic Planetary Solutions. By this time the warbot had disappeared from the battlefields of old Earth because of its continued vulnerability to EMP and the many programming glitches that developed in hostile engagements sometimes causing them to fire on their own support troops.
Designed to be the main attack vehicle of mobile platoons the warbots moved in coordination with a five man human squad during battle. It was repeatedly demonstrated in several limited wars that erupted in the 2090’s that all too often the 1123s failed due to the impossibility (some said) of effectively hard shielding its components from EMP blasts. By 2100 most militaries on Earth had discontinued their use in combat because no one had found a way to effectively use them under those conditions.
However they reemerged on the open market as security teams, usually for petty dictators in untenable positions and unpopular corporate moguls. While conventional armies had little fear of the Kashi, the enemies of the dictators and CEO’s were ill equipped to deal with the lumbering monstrosities.
This particular one and two others had been stored at Lunar Base Five after the outlaw of warbots on Earth. Antonopoulos had personally transferred the unit along with the two others to the colony thinking that it may serve a purpose at some future date.
Stephen Anderson, Chief Science Officer of the Lunar Base colonies, had discovered the existence of the warbots, and several other pieces of contraband stored at the base in 2121. Later, after seizing control of the dome and all computer functions, he’d activated the three warbots held onsite for the express purpose of countering the plans and schemes of Alekos Antonopoulos and separating the two peoples. Anderson had suspected that Antonopoulos was mad, but he had no way of knowing that the ever growing madness of the rogue CEO was the only thing that had prevented him from using the warbots against the Workers. In the throes of his insanity he had utterly forgotten their existence otherwise he would’ve unleashed them and the fate of the colony would’ve been sealed. The men and women from Earth would’ve found nothing but dusty tombs under the lunar surface instead of the thousands of ragged survivors.
In an ironic twist, the particular unit Ming and Farr now confronted was responsible for Antonopoulos’ death in 2122 during the last attack on Garden Area Five by the Suits. After the death of Antonopoulos the Suits never again attempted to mount a serious attack on the dome, although they tested the defenses, to their detriment, several times.
Once Antonopoulos was removed from the equation the Suits no longer posed a threat to the dome and Anderson had stationed this unit at the junction of the tunnels to prevent the Suits from intruding into the Workers area. No Suit dared approach the place of the Workers while the 1123 paced the corridors of darkness that separated the two peoples. The unit had kept the peace for many years, even after the death of Stephen. The automated systems of the dome performed the required maintenance on the unit and ensured its operational capabilities. The humans provided the raw materials that kept the machines functioning and the machines provided food to the humans.
But two decades ago the maintenance system had started to fail when the human numbers dropped and replacement parts were nonexistent. The unit’s onboard computer had initiated survival mode and the warbot and its fellows had begun to cannibalize the dome systems in an effort to maintain performance. Its internal prioritization matrix removed it from duty in the passageways when system degradation reached thirty five percent and reassigned it to the interior of the dome. In its military oriented programming it saw this as a reduction of the defendable perimeter and an acceptable step in its mission to defend the dome at all costs. No longer was keeping the two peoples separate a desirable or attainable objective and the three warbots adjusted their tasking to defend the dome to the exclusion of all else.
But still the decline in performance continued and finally the degradation of this unit reached sixty percent, limiting it to defense of the interior of the dome only. It was no longer operationally functional enough to guard the entrance during the offering hours. The other two warbots, while only marginally more functional than the other, were deemed more capable to perform the entrance defense. For the last five years the unit had patrolled the interior of the dome, waiting for an intruder that would never come, its’ capabilities continuing to decline.
And so, as it made what could’ve been its millionth patrol of its’ assigned defensive area, the onboard computer completed its current sweep of the selected patrol area and noted the existence of two possible anomalies that had not been there on the previous sweep. Constant fault alerts registered with the onboard computer, most having to do with the nonfunctional right side weapon, but there was a serious fault on the motion detection suite and the computer compensated for this by bringing the motion sensing array offline and switching to an infrared detection status alone.
The anomalies detected on the previous sweep would be confirmed on the next sweep with the infrared sensors. If they appeared on infrared the protocol would upgrade their threat status and evaluate again.
If the warbot had been human it might’ve felt eagerness at this point. But a machine does not know eagerness or any other emotion. But perhaps it shared a common trait with the biological intelligence that had created it. And now, for the first time
in decades, it once again had a purpose.
—————
Ming was now at the power transfer bus and Farr had reached the junction relay station. He was fairly certain the 1123 had taken no note of them but he quickly went over the combat information he’d learned about the 1123’s at the academy, including their last layer of defense. Hand-to-whatever the hell you called its’ appendages, combat, although he had no desire to engage in hand to hand with a four armed metal assailant.
There was something he was trying to remember; something about the 1123s that was just on the tip of his tongue, but the errant thought was driven away by other, more urgent necessities.
“Ming, I know Quincy gave us a “master key”, but what are the odds that someone who was as rightfully paranoid as Stephen Anderson would’ve kept the same codes in place for the interior of the dome?”
“Now you think of that?” Ming said his voice tight and just a tad higher than normal.
“There’s something else that keeps nagging at my mind and I can’t seem to put my finger on it.”
“About what?”
“Something I read about the 1123s and their prioritizing of threats and how they balance their duties against damage to vital systems.”
“That could be important don’t you think?” Ming hissed.
“I’m almost certain of it, but I can’t recall, so we stick to the plan.”
Ming waited tensely until the split second of the warbot’s turn and then he darted for the field relay station while Farr sprang toward the power transfer bus. Farr was mindful not to let the lower gravity trip him up as he ran. It wouldn’t do to go sailing a long distance in the air with an 1123 stalking about. He would be exposed like a quail darting from cover. And the 1123 was a very efficient quail hunter.
Having reached their objective, they now hunkered down to wait for the next opportunity. Two moves, thought Farr, and we’ll be up against the walls of the SCC and that much closer to safety.
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