“I noticed that. It’d help if you took them down remotely.”
“I’m working on it, Detective.”
The bots pivoted away from the door and stalked toward the police. Whatever programming compelled them hadn’t sent them toward the sounds of gunfire, but there was no mistaking their current intent.
“Everyone back up!” Jia ordered. She jogged a few steps back, angling her weapon down. A stray AP bullet might end up in a worker if she wasn’t careful. She took a quick shot and disabled a security bot. The other officers backed up, their expressions calm, but they quickly put distance between themselves and the infected machines.
Jia lined up her next shot and fired. Shot after shot followed until the security bots were deactivated garbage on the floor, smoking or sparking. Her attacks left a small number of advancing sprayers, which required more finesse. A bad shot, and they might all be sucking in acid. She took a deep breath and targeted the wide front section of a sprayer. “Is that my best bet?”
“Based on most standard models, yes,” Emma replied.
“Time to find out the hard way.” Jia exhaled as she fired her next bullet. It ripped through the bot, missing the tank. The sprayer collapsed to its side. She grinned, and her follow-up shots sent the other sprayers to the ground with soft thuds.
“Impressive, Detective.”
“I try.” After a quick reload, Jia hurried past the pile of defeated bots toward the door. It slid open and workers poured out, some looking relieved, others weeping with joy. She pointed to the officers. “They’ll lead you out.”
The workers mobbed the police officers, who pivoted and hurried back the way they’d come. A few bloodied men brought up the rear, some helped along by others, jagged slashes in their clothes or limbs bent. One unconscious man was carried by a large bear of a coworker. The greenish complexion and shallow breathing of the victim suggested he’d been exposed to a chemical.
“Ambulances are present outside,” Emma reported.
Jia took a deep breath. “Erik, do you need reinforcements? We’ve freed our batch, but I want to make sure they’re okay on the way out.”
A loud gunshot echoed from far away.
“I’m fine,” he replied. “Protect them. I’m good here.”
Good was subjective, but at least Emma hadn’t passed along the truth.
Erik knelt behind a massive crate, blood running down the side of his head from a lucky swipe by a crazed automated saw on a workstation. His group of officers crouched farther back, hiding near other crates and pallets.
No one dared go near any of the massive fixed cranes or automated workstations covered with different tool arms, all of which writhed and twitched like they were alive. Piles of smoking bots and downed drones lay strewn about the area, but two ten-meter bipedal loading bots with large clamps capable of crushing a man patrolled in front of the small breakroom packed with the survivors.
“I’m remembering the advantage of fighting people,” he muttered. “Or at least in a factory not filled with giant bots.”
“Different factories require different types of equipment,” Emma replied. “Incidentally, Detective Lin is continuing her successful evacuation,” Emma reported. “I should note, given the state of some of the workers she rescued, waiting for reinforcements might result in risks to lives.”
“Kill the bots and quickly. Check that.” Erik reached into his pocket. “Damn. Out of EMPs, not that I think they’d work against those things. Too bad I didn’t bring the laser rifle.” He frowned. “If we can’t wait, then we’ll need to make an opportunity. On my signal, prepare to open the door.”
“Those machines are slow, but they are certain to injure or kill at least some of the workers,” Emma protested.
“Since when are you worried about the fleshbags?” Erik chuckled.
“I assume you are.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve got a plan. If anyone’s going to die, it’ll be me.”
“I’d prefer that not happen either,” Emma commented.
“That’s also in the plan.” Erik waved to the officers and then pointed at the door. “I’m going to distract those things. When I make my move, the doors will open. You’ll need to haul ass and evacuate the workers. Got it?”
Several uniformed officers swallowed and one crossed himself, but they all nodded.
Erik loaded a fresh magazine and smiled. “Time for some fun.” He jumped up and fired a burst at the first loader, aiming for a leg joint—a location Emma had earlier highlighted as a weak spot. He ran toward the loader bots, weaving between the fixed loading arms that swung at him. He ducked one bot and pivoted to avoid the clamp of another. A burst from the TR-7 sparked as it hit the reinforced loader. He sprayed all the joints, closing on the bots as he zigzagged, yelling at the top of his lungs. They ignored him for the first magazine of ammo but turned when he reloaded. The loaders stomped toward him, their heavy steps shaking the floor.
The uniformed officers hurried between the maze of crates and approached the door with their weapons holstered. They’d been somewhat effective against the drones, but less so against almost every bot in the room.
“Come on!” Erik bellowed. He added a burst toward the bot’s torso as an exclamation point. “I’m here. Get to Robot Valhalla by killing me.”
“Robot Valhalla?” Emma scoffed.
“It could be a thing,” Erik insisted.
“Doubtful.”
“Open the door while I have them focused on me!” Erik yelled.
The break room door slid open. Confused workers stared at the retreating loaders, wide-eyed. Erik ran toward the loaders and continued to spray both, producing a nice shower of sparks and even a few holes in the thick exteriors of the machines. One of the loaders brought back its arm and swung. The massive limb missed the detective and slammed into a huge crate, sending it careening into another, starting a chain reaction. A crate crashed to the floor behind Erik. He didn’t want to get pinned by one, especially when he was only meters away from giant bots obsessed with killing him.
Continued bursts kept the loaders focused on him. The officers and workers led the wounded and evacuated back the way they’d come. Erik reloaded and kept firing, even risking running past the leg of one loader. The second machine tried to cut off his escape by jamming a closed clamp into a crate, ripping through the metal with a sickening wrenching sound that echoed in the cavernous room.
“If I had a missile or my laser rifle, you wouldn’t be so tough,” Erik argued with it.
“Insulting a mindless bot is pointless,” Emma insisted.
“You never know. They might understand me.” Erik jumped to the side as a bot kicked at him. “They came after me, and I have guns, so they have to have some logic.”
“Multiple TPST officers are in the adjacent warehouse,” Emma reported. “If I open the main door, they’ll have line-of-sight.
Erik glanced toward the fleeing officers and workers. “Give it a few seconds. I don’t want someone to get hit by accident.”
The officers got most of the evacuees to the entrance to the fab room. Erik grunted as a loader’s arm connected and sent him hurtling toward a crate. He crashed into it, pain spiking through his back, and dropped his TR-7. The second bot tried to follow up by crushing him with a foot as he rolled out of the way.
“Yeah, let them in.” Erik hopped to his feet and sprinted away from the bots, a clamp smashing into the ground behind him.
With a loud groan, the warehouse gate rose. TPST exoskeletons stood in a line behind it. Their weapons came to life, their heavy machine guns making even the TR-7 seem inadequate. However, even the loud, roaring guns did little damage to the thick, armored exteriors of the loaders.
Shrapnel from the gunfire was pelting Erik as he ran from the loaders. He looked at the TPST.
“Oh, shit.” It was time to put his feet up and down twice as fast.
A multiple rocket launcher flipped open at the top of an exoskeleton. The swarm of ro
ckets blasted from the launcher with an angry roar and pelted the loader in a deafening explosion that knocked several more crates over. The machine tumbled back, a huge blackened hole in the center.
Erik made it to the edge of the room as the exoskeleton officers took down the other loader.
“Too much fun.” Erik’s right arm hung limply. Sharp pain suffused his entire arm and upper body. “I think I broke it. Better get that taken care of right away.” He grimaced, limping toward the TPST team. His leg might not be broken, but it’d been better.
“You’re taking this remarkably well,” Emma commented.
“Not saying this doesn’t hurt like a bitch, but once you’ve had an arm blown off, everything else seems minor in comparison. A few nanites will fix me right up.”
Erik winced. “Or turn me into a zombie.”
Chapter Twelve
Still in her suit, Jia groaned and fell into her bed, face first. What an exhausting day. Between the case, Alina, and the warehouse event, every part of her ached.
Following the evacuations, Emma had managed to send sleep commands to the entire warehouse, ending the threat of additional rogue bots.
Because of the virus, Digital Forensics would work with the company to find out what happened, and it wasn’t a case they would need to follow up.
The captain had told the detectives they could take the day off and he would assign other detectives to help out with the murder investigation, but Jia and Erik had turned down the offer. Manipulative Intelligence Directorate ghosts and crazed industrial bots aside, they still wanted to solve their final NSCPD case as quickly as possible. Fortunately, prompt treatment had taken care of Erik’s arm, and they’d both needed only a good night’s sleep.
Her PNIU chimed with a call. She groaned again. It was like her mother could sense her weakness from all the way across Neo SoCal and pounce.
They should have sent her into the factory to fight the bots.
Jia rolled onto her back and answered the call. “Mother, it’s been a long day. Can we talk tomorrow?”
Lan sniffed disdainfully. “You’re not the only one who works hard. This won’t take long. I have a simple question. I wanted to confirm you’re coming to the party.”
Jia let out a sharp laugh. “You’re asking me about the Mid-Autumn Festival now? It’s the middle of the night.”
“Well, I wouldn’t have to ask you so late at night if you had responded to my earlier messages.”
“I can’t bel…” Jia took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “I had to raid a warehouse today. My life was in danger, so it was not the time to take phone calls.”
“Your life wouldn’t be in danger if you had picked a less dangerous career,” Lan replied. “But I’ve supported you in this police nonse…career. I’m hoping switching to the private sector will make things safer for you. You won’t have to respond to every random crime that happens around you.”
Jia sat up. Lan Lin was harder to defeat than a whole army of yaoguai.
“Mother, ignoring everything else that happened to me today, I’m in the middle of a new case. It’s a murder. The first couple of days are the most important in this kind of investigation, so I can’t be sure. If we get a good lead, we’ll need to pursue it.”
“I don’t understand,” Lan replied, her tone allowing no dissent. “Don’t you have a substitute you could send in? Police officers get sick on occasion.”
Jia sighed. “Mother, we’re the ones who are most familiar with the evidence. The world won’t end if we miss one party to help investigate a murder. It’s kind of important.”
“Don’t people get murdered every day?” Lan countered. “The Mid-Autumn Festival only happens once a year, and this party isn’t an annual event, so don’t you try that weak excuse on me.”
“Investigating a murder is a weak excuse?” Jia stood, frowning. Her hand tightened around her phone.
“It’s a roundabout way of saying you’re busy with work.” Lan snorted, derision thick in her tone when she next spoke. “A successful person is always busy with work, and any decent job, public or private sector, is important in its way, but if you’re not being shot at by terrorists at that exact time, I expect you and Erik at the party. Understood?”
Jia rolled her eyes. “I’ll do my best. Now, I need some sleep. Goodnight, Mother.”
“Goodnight.”
Jia pulled her PNIU off and tossed it on her nightstand. If her mother was that obsessed with the party, she probably did have a marriage-related scheme in mind. That was reason enough to avoid the event.
Faking a terrorist attack suddenly didn’t seem that extreme. Was it?
“Maybe I’ll get lucky and the Zitark will invade that day,” she mumbled, closing her eyes.
* * *
October 1, 2229, Neo Southern California Metroplex, Police Enforcement Zone 122 Station, Office of Detectives Jia Lin and Erik Blackwell
“Thanks for letting us know, Captain. I think the answer is no, but I’ll let you know soon if it’s otherwise. Also, thanks for giving me the date. I’ll let Erik know.” Jia ended her PNIU call and looked at Erik with a smile. “It’s not going to turn into something.”
Erik looked away from a Luminous River personnel record. “What’s not going to turn into anything?”
“The warehouse thing.” Jia let out a sigh of relief. “You never know with us. Somebody confessed to sabotaging the factory. It was industrial espionage. The suspect got a lot of money to infect the factory with the virus.”
“And he confessed that easily?” Erik sounded surprised.
“Yes. He was hired by a smaller company, TCA Systems. It turns out, he was pretty angry with them. The people who paid him didn’t make it clear the robots might go out of control, and he ended up injured. From what Digital Forensics told the captain, that might not have even been their intent. They probably purchased the virus without testing it.”
Erik snickered. “How do you test for that sort of thing?”
Jia shrugged. “Use it on a contained system? Anyway, the captain says he wants to kick this one onto the CID. It’s more in their wheelhouse. TCA, conveniently, has a few people they want to turn into the CID anyway. No one even had contacted them yet.”
“Funny how that works out. No honor among thieves, huh?” Erik rotated his arm. “Everyone who got hurt that night is on the mend, and if we’ve got the guy and the company, that’s good for less than twenty-four hours.” He inclined his head toward the personnel record. “We can’t beat that record with our murder, but it’d be nice to close it out.”
“At least we know it has nothing to do with TCA Systems,” Jia joked. She looked at the door at the sound of a light knock.
Halil stood there, a small paper box in hand with ornate gold-filigree writing on the side reading “Taste of New Orleans.”
Jia waved him in, curious what was in the box.
He lifted the box. “I’ve got some expensive beignets from a place that uses natural, real ingredients. I read about it on the net. Not a molecule of this food has seen a printer.”
Erik stared at the box, the naked desire on his face obvious. At least he wasn’t drooling. “Really?”
Jia grimaced. “That couldn’t have been cheap.”
“No, it wasn’t cheap.” Halil chuckled and set the box on the edge of Jia’s desk. “But it’s probably the last time I can do something flashy for you two before you head out and start protecting some corp prince while he wipes his ass for ten times my pay.”
Erik stood and walked over to her desk to grab a beignet, picking it up carefully, as if dropping any of the powdered sugar would be a sacrilegious act. He took a bite and closed his eyes, his expression ecstatic. After a careful swallow, he murmured, “That’s better than sex.”
Jia smirked. She couldn’t complain about her performance in bed since they hadn’t shared it yet, but she took it as a challenge. “Is it better than my duck?”
Erik eyed the beignet and then Jia
before shooting Halil a pleading look. The other detective lifted his hands in front of him.
He took another bite of the beignet and shuddered in pleasure.
“Hey, don’t get me in the middle of this,” Halil insisted. “I’m just trying to do you a favor. Though while I’ve got your ear, I’ve got a question. When exactly are you leaving?” He frowned. “I tried asking the captain, but he’s acting like it’s a big confed-level secret.”
Jia stared at Halil. “You asked me before, too. Why do you care so much?”
Erik didn’t contribute to the conversation. He continued to take small, careful bites of the glorious pastry, chewing them thoroughly. He separated each bite with a murmur of satisfaction. Jia wasn’t sure she had ever seen him that happy. She might need to switch from making duck for him to beignets.
Although unless Alina was going to be paying them a lot more, she doubted she would often make pastry with all-natural ingredients.
“November 1st,” Jia explained, gesturing at Erik. “That’s when we’re officially out.”
Erik swallowed his current bite, casting a reluctant glance at his beignet before looking at Jia. “It is?”
Jia nodded. “The captain mentioned it at the beginning of the call.” She frowned. Halil had been overly eager for this information for several days. Something was going on, and she wouldn’t let it go.
“Okay.” Halil nodded. “Thanks. Enjoy the beignets.”
“Why do you need to know the date?” Jia injected a hint of tension and threat into her voice. “Does somebody else need to know that date?”
“Damn, Jia, slow it down.” Halil shook his head, but there was something in his eyes. Panic, perhaps. “I’m not about to sell you two out. Even if I wanted to and someone gave me all the money Ceres Galactic makes in a year, I know I wouldn’t survive two weeks.”
Erik’s love affair with the beignet was over. He held it loosely in one hand, staring at their visitor. Jia’s paranoia was infectious. “You think he’s hiding something?”
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