Gridlinked ac-1

by Neal Asher

  As the bird banked over onion towers and the disparate blocks of hotel towers and offices he took a firmer grip. The lake slid from view and ahead he saw the band of wasteland between the city and the spaceport. Two ships, one the featureless grey tank of an insystem carrier, and the other a bulbous wedge of a metallic green, were settling towards the crowded field. The spaceport, with its many ships, had the appearance to Stanton of a small baroque town on the outskirts of the city, where perhaps an alien race dwelt in its distorted houses.

  'You'll have to watch those as we come in,' he said.

  'I do know what I'm doing,' Pelter replied.

  He took the bird to one side of the port over the acacias and tangled hulks, and brought it down in a tight spiral. Stanton glanced at him and saw, for the first time since Cheyne III, an expression on his face that might be interpreted as enjoyment. Pelter brought the bird down slow and easy, only a few metres above the tops of the trees. They soon came to the fence and eased over it. Stanton looked to his right at the gate. Four guards were watching the transporter landing by the Lyric. They were oblivious to the bird.

  'By law, all cargoes should go in through the gate. Overflying a landing field carries a heavy penalty. How do you want us to deal with this?' Stanton asked.

  Pelter leant forwards in the pilot's seat, a nasty expression on his face.

  'They're coming over,' Corlackis said through the open com from the transporter.

  The four guards were walking across the open ground towards the Lyric. Stanton wondered just how much they were thinking of charging for this particular infringement. He looked at Pelter.

  'You could pay them off,' he said.

  Pelter eased the bird down over the other side of the fence. He brought it lower and lower and slowed it almost to a walking pace.

  'Stay in the transporter. Don't go out to meet them. I'm just going to try something,' he said.

  Stanton ran his hand down his face. He knew precisely what Pelter was going to try. Since he had removed that aug, something vicious had risen inside him and now demanded satisfaction.

  'Did you know,' said Pelter, 'that this bird is made almost entirely of chainglass?'

  'I know, Arian,' said Stanton.

  The dropbird was about a metre from the ground now, and the guards were walking in a tight group only 100 metres ahead. Pelter eased it up to something above walking pace and quickly closed in on the four men.

  'It's almost like one big blade.'

  At the last moment he tilted the two plates at odds to each other. The bird spun. Stanton saw one man cartwheeling through the air, another cut in half, but didn't see what had happened to the remaining two. Pelter levelled the plates, tilted them back the other way to stop the spin, and then eased the bird onward to the Lyric. Stanton could see the wings now. They were red.

  'What you have to understand, John, is that I win because I think quickly and can work out the fastest solution to a problem,' Pelter said.

  And there I was assuming it was because you're a ruthless psychotic bastard, thought Stanton. He kept that thought to himself, and looked ahead at the open A hold of the Lyric. The entire sphere had been split horizontally in half, the top half held up ten metres above the bottom by hydraulic rams. Pelter eased the bird up and into the gap. Inside, the clamps and straps to fix the bird in place were ready. Pelter eased it down into place with a delicate clonk, then he shut off AG. Stanton moved back through the cabin to the side door, as the Separatist unstrapped himself. He eyed Mr Crane squatting in the middle of the cabin and just wished that things could end right now. He was going soft; he knew it. He had seen the signs in others. He popped the door and climbed out onto the transparent part of the wing, then slid to the deck. Further along the wing he saw that a pair of overalls were stuck in place with blood. He walked across the deck to the open hatch to the sound of Crane, then Pelter, emerging from the bird behind him. On the ramp he stared outwards as lemon sunlight broke through the clouds.

  He saw that the two customs officials were walking towards the Lyric, and had yet to spot the remains of the guards. Mennecken and Corlackis were already on their way out to greet them.

  Stanton turned and went to help Svent and Dusache load the crates into Hold B.

  17

  Golem Series: This is the series of androids, or human emulations, that were first manufactured by Cybercorp in 2150. The Golem One - there was only one ever made - was reported to have lasted only four hours under its own impetus. Attacked by breakers, or organ thieves, it apparently caught fire under stun fire. Subsequent recovery of its core memory led to the arrest of its attackers. The second Golem was more sophisticated and strong, but was not a successful emulation. Only by Golem Eight did Cybercorp attain near-perfect emulation. Sales of the Golem Series then lifted Cybercorp to system corporate status. The androids were used by Wbrld Health, Earth Security, and by various religious organizations. At Golem Fifteen, with the 107th revision of the Turing Test, this android series came under the artificial intelligence charter, and attained thrall status. Since then, every Golem made has had to work out an indenture in which it pays for its construction and earns a suitable profit (set by Trading Standards) for Cybercorp or its purchaser. The Golem Series is still successful. Cybercorp is now an interstellar corporation.

  From Quince Guide, compiled by humans

  It seemed as if they had been descending for ever, but, from counting the evenly spaced lights that hovered like luminescent bees, Cormac knew they had only gone down half a kilometre. The shaft had not deviated one whit. Ahead of him he could see Gant and Cento approaching the next light, and beyond them more lights stretching out in a line, to be finally lost in a distant haze. The size of the tunnel had not changed. Only the ice on the walls looked any different. There were both flat, white blooms of water-ice and impurities of green and blue patterning the walls like alien cave paintings.

  'I'm picking up some strange readings,' said Cam, checking an instrument strapped to his arm.

  'What sort?' asked Cormac.

  'Minor temperature fluctuations and some alterations in air density. Something moving.'

  'Could it be a machine or lifeform?'

  Cam looked at him. 'What's the difference?'

  Cormac seemed to remember getting into a similar conversation before. He could not resist making some attempt at an answer. 'Self-determinism?' he tried.

  'Only machines can have that. Name me a lifeform that's not a slave to genetically pre-programmed drives?'

  'Yes, all right… So do you have any idea of what's down there?'

  Cam inspected the detector again. 'Not really. I'm bouncing the signal over Cento and Gant's heads, but there's still interference. Difficult to tell.'

  'Perhaps the lights disturbed something… Gant, do you have any feedback from your lights?'

  Gant glanced over his shoulder. "The three lower ones had no return signal from the start, but we can transfer some down to the chamber.'

  That made Cormac edgy. What had knocked out the lights? Some sort of automated system? Or something trying to give itself cover?

  When they were a kilometre down, it became obvious they had reached the point where the probe had been destroyed. Pieces of wreckage were imbedded in the rock, and the ice was blackened by smoke. Beyond this point there were long score marks in me ice, and splinters of the glassy rock itself had been broken away.

  'Looks like the probe dislodged something,' said Gant.

  'Some sort of grating - a barrier?' Cormac wondered.

  'The probe would have halted at it,' Cam said. 'Anyway, no sign of any fixings.'

  Cormac studied the gouges. They were almost like claw marks and he did not like the image this conjured up. It seemed that whatever had been dislodged had scrabbled frantically to maintain its position. It had failed, but left marks all round the shaft, which gave an indication of its size. Cormac began to have serious misgivings.

  'Stay sharp,' he said, and noticed men that Cent
o and Gant had already drawn their weapons.

  When they were still a half kilometre from the chamber, Cormac suddenly felt a strange beating under his breastbone. This rhydim increased in frequency till, with a thrill dirough his entire body, it exceeded the range where he could feel it. A darkness then occluded the lights below and mere came a sound as of a ton of scrap iron being rolled across the ice and stone. A shape filled the shaft and started to draw closer. It looked like a cross between a trapdoor spider and a tick, but made of polished chrome. It was huge, a nightmare, and it was coming fast.

  'Jesus!' yelled Gant.

  'Hit it!' yelled Cormac. It seemed more than likely that it was not coming to welcome them.

  Candent flashes filled the tunnel. Stone was blasted in molten droplets from the wall. Cormac saw one chrome leg drop away, then - as a growing cloud of CO2 vapour filled the shaft - the creature was on Gant and Cento.

  'Pull back!'

  The line Cam was attached to, which led to Cento, whipped to one side and Cam fell against the wall of the shaft. In the vapour there were more flashes and a sound like a compressor starting up.

  'They're bouncing off! Jesus! Cento!' came Gant's yell. He came backwards out of the cloud, firing as he came, stripped-off filament cladding falling round his feet. Then came the creature, scrabbling for a grip on the walls of the shaft. Many of its legs were now missing and there were scores along its teardrop body, but it had legs still to spare and did not seem to notice the damage. Its triclaw mandibles opened and snapped shut around Gant, even while he was firing into its moudi. He yelled and swore.

  Cormac drew his shuriken. He sensed Aiden and Thorn at his back, and knew they were aiming their weapons. But there was no clear shot, and the creature dropped back down the shaft, holding on to the yelling Gant, his abseil-winder making a horrible penetrating shriek as the chain-cotton was wound out too fast. Cormac slapped his shuriken back into its holster.

  'Come on,' he said.

  They moved on down the shaft to where Cento lay against the wall. His fingers were driven into the rock of the wall, their fleshy covering stripped back from the metal underneath. His head and one arm had been ripped away, and symhetic flesh had been peeled from him to expose his gleaming metal interior. He was completely still. Cormac turned to Aiden.

  'Are you getting anything?'

  'His safe-storage is secure,' said Aiden.

  'OK, take his place on the line and secure him here. We have to get after Gant.' He turned to Cam. 'You wait here till we call you. If we don't, get the hell out of here.'

  Cormac and Thorn went ahead into the settling CO2 vapour. Gant was still yelling, which must be a good sign. They jogged down the shaft, pulling against the friction setting as fast as they could. Meanwhile, Cormac punched in a particular attack program through the holster of his shuriken. It hummed contentedly as it drew full charge from the holster's power supply.

  'We have to get it to release Gant,' Cormac said over his shoulder to the grim-faced Thorn. 'Once it's done that, shuriken might be able to handle it.'

  'Gant said our weapons were bouncing off it,' said Thorn.

  'Your light weapons… they bounced off the main body… but they damaged its legs and feelers…'

  Just at that moment Gant's yelling abruptly ceased, and his line went slack ahead of them. A cloud of C vapour gusted up the shaft. Cormac knew what that meant; Gant's cqldsuit had been breached. It was probably his blood that was turning the carbon-dioxide ice to vapour. He guessed that Thorn probably knew this as well. Cormac continued on, carefully, as the line ahead of him was now only partially clad.

  Soon mey reached the area where the lights had been destroyed. Thorn shot two potassium flares past Cormac and the chamber below ttiem was lit up with garish purple light.

  'It has no eyes,' stated Thorn. 'It uses sonar. You felt it?'

  Cormac nodded agreement. He had felt it all right. 'It destroyed the lights while they were moving. It was probably put here to destroy anything that moves.' He glanced back to see Aiden coming up behind them fast.

  In the glare from the flares they could see a gleaming arc of something. It seemed too large to be the creature's torso. There was movement; a play of shadows. One of the flares went out. Thorn shot two more flares in as the three of mem detached from their lines and dropped ttirough the entrance. They landed on a curved metallic surface. It was frictionless and mey slid to the floor. The creature charged, slipping on what remained of Gant. Thorn and Aiden began firing immediately, ttieir weapons on full power. Cormac tfirew his shuriken, its chainglass blades out to their fullest extent. The creature slammed to a halt in a wall of fire, then the shuriken struck. There was a whining scream and a flare of sparks. A piece of the creature's body fell away, the shuriken bounced off, hovered, struck again. A clump of legs shattered, and the creature fell to one side. The shuriken struck again, then again. CO2 vapour filled the chamber. Thorn and Aiden were firing blind. Cormac could hear the creature scrabbling to get away and the repetitive scream of each of the shuriken's strikes. The scrabbling soon ceased. Thorn and Aiden put up their weapons.

  'Dead?' wondered Thorn.

  'If it was ever alive,' said Cormac.

  His shuriken continued to strike until he hit the recall. It came out of the fog, retracting its blades and shrugging away pieces of something green and frozen, like shards of emerald. Cormac held up his arm as if to a falcon, and it snicked itself away in its holster. About them the fog refroze and snowed from the air.

  The creature lay in pieces in a frozen green pool. Ignoring it, Thorn walked forwards amongst Gant. The soldier had been ripped to pieces. Cormac shook his head and stared down at a hand frozen to the floor before him.

  'A Tenkian,' said Aiden at Cormac's side.

  'Yeah,' said Cormac, watching Thorn. Thorn had found Gam's head and pulled it from the floor with a disc of frozen blood attached to it.

  'I don't hold out much hope for his recovery,' Thorn said.

  The joke was macabre in the extreme. Thorn wandered off to the side of the chamber, still holding his comrade's head.

  'He will be all right,' said Aiden on the comunit's personal mode. 'Thorn knows the risks and is most philosophical about death. He will toast Gant on Hubris, then drink himself into a stupor. Then he will carry on. Gant would have done the same.'

  Cormac inspected the Golem Thirty and wondered if it had any actual feeling of sympathy, or was just good at emulating it. It was a question that had bothered humankind for a couple of centuries now.

  'Cam, you can come down now,' he said, and then walked past the dismembered guardian towards the artefact they had come to see.

  It rested on the floor of the chamber like a gigantic droplet of mercury. In the light of the flares it glinted as if covered with frost. A closer inspection showed there was no frost on its surface. Cormac pushed his hand against it, and his hand slid to one side. It was friction-less, yet on inspection its surface revealed a fine crystalline structure and seemed it should have some roughness.

  Cam cautiously lowered himself into the chamber and slid to the floor down by the surface of the artefact, before detaching his line. He stared at the creature for a long while, shifted his gaze to Gant's remains, and then quickly turned his attention to the unknown object. He removed a device like a copper limpet from his belt and placed it against the thing's surface.

  'This is a metallurgical tester - or M-tester if you don't like long words. We use them for spot analysis of hull metals and the like. Measures stresses, density changes, alloy configurations…' He paused, glanced at Thorn who still held his friend's head, then looked at a small display on the M-tester. He continued hurriedly. 'Incredibly dense…' He crouched down and examined where the curve of the object met the floor. 'It must be hollow.'

  'What makes you say that?' asked Cormac.

  'If it was solid it would weigh a few thousand tonnes. It would have sunk into this floor a lot deeper than it has, and -' he inspected an instrum
ent strapped to his arm '-1 detect no AG emanations.'

  He placed the M-tester against the surface again, then took his shaking hand away. He caught the tester before it hit the floor.

  'Frictionless, but with only microgravity readings. Definitely hollow.'

  He removed a miniconsole from his belt and placed the M-tester into a hollow incorporated in it. He punched out a program, then removed the M-tester.

  'Aiden…' Aiden stepped smartly forwards. 'Hold this against the surface for thirty seconds. Do not let it move any more than one millimetre. It can't correct for any more than that.'

  Aiden obliged, pushing the M-tester against the surface, then freezing into a stillness no man could match. Cam turned to Cormac. Cormac noted he was shivering, but not from the cold.

  'Hopefully we'll be able to get a surface reading. This stuff's too dense for us to scrape away a sample.' He walked round the object, stopping every now and then to push his hand against it. Cormac glanced round and saw that Thorn had stood up. The soldier dropped his companion's head to the ground and walked over. He had lapsed for a while, but to a Sparkind a dead man was just so much meat. They only buried the dead if there was a risk of infection.

  'I'm sorry, Thorn,' said Cormac.

  Thorn put his hands on his hips and looked to one side for a moment before replying. 'He had a hundred and sixty-three years. He knew the risks… I only ask that you let us stay with this to the end. I want to meet whoever or whatever left that creature here.'

  Cormac thought about that. Had it been left here? Or had it been here for its own purposes? Was there really a connection between this place and the runcible incident? There were still too few facts to go on.

  Aiden turned then, removing the M-tester from the object's surface.

  'There's a hole here,' said Carn from the other side. They moved round to join him.

  In the gleaming surface was a hole about twenty centimetres across. It looked as if something had melted right through from the inside. Cormac noted that the material was eggshell-thin. Carn shone a light inside.