Robot Empire_Armageddon_A Science Fiction Adventure

by Kevin Partner

  As she said the words, she felt ridiculous, but the man's expression cleared and he nodded. "Right you are. I didn't understand much of that, but it seems you need a hand to get rid of that madman in the palace and that's enough for me. What can we do to help?" He gestured around the little room at the other old soldiers standing in the shadows.

  If Plan B had been stupid, Plan C took idiocy to new levels, thought Arla. She crouched in a street that led to the back entrance to the palace. Two Protectors stood there, weapons scanning the square, barely visible in the orange glow of the street lights. The new plan at least had the advantage of being simple - Coles and his men would distract the Protectors and keep them busy for long enough to allow Arla, McCall and Clancy to sneak in.

  The only weapons Coles possessed were his native knowledge of the city layout and one rocket propelled grenade which he'd handed over to McCall. The cry went up and one of the Protectors responded almost instantly. It raised its weaponised hands and clunked after the men as chunks of brick and stone bounced ineffectually from its armour.

  "You will halt," it cried and Arla glanced at the other Protector. No, as expected, it didn't move, except that its head rotated to follow its comrade as it stomped out of the square.

  She squinted at a window opposite. There was no sign of McCall who, by this point, should be raising her weapon and sighting the remaining robot. Well, there was nothing else for it, she had to trust that the doctor would be sticking to the plan and that her missile would be well aimed.

  Arla leapt from cover and hurled a stone that arced through the sky and bounced off the shiny black armour of the Protector, it wheeled around then fired two rounds that fizzed over Arla's head as she ducked. More energy bolts cut into the brickwork she was hiding behind, and she was about to scramble away when she heard a hissing sound followed by an explosion that shook the ground she squatted on.

  Peeping over the pock-marked wall, she saw a rising cloud of dust and the remains of the palace entrance. McCall had missed her target but had succeeded in burying the robot beneath a ton of rubble. It was now or never.

  She jumped over the wall and tore across the square to the ruined doorway. "That's not going to hold it for long," she said as McCall joined her.

  "Sorry, the launcher had a bit of a kick on it."

  Clancy sidled his way along the outside of the building, holding an ancient hand-gun given to him by one of Coles' men. Things would have been pretty desperate if they'd ended up relying on him to occupy the Protector.

  "Let's go," Arla said.

  "But we'll be trapped inside when it gets out of the rubble!" Clancy said as he glanced at the debris. A weaponised hand emerged and then disappeared again under an avalanche.

  "Then stay out here and keep it company!" Arla snapped before running into the darkness of the palace, McCall at her heels.

  They had decided to make Plan C simple, so they headed straight for the throne-room since that was the obvious place to look for ACE. In the palace, all paths led, one way or another, to the throne and Arla's chief worry was that they'd run into guards along the way. It became obvious, however, that ACE's paranoia meant that she used Protectors to seal off the palace but kept its inner rooms entirely to herself.

  The door of the Audience Chamber lay open, but the throne was empty. Arla crept inside and made her way along one of the walls until she reached an inner door that had been left slightly ajar. Someone was inside, snoring. Gesturing to McCall, she gently squeezed herself through the opening, her teeth clenched as she waited for the hinge to squeal. But it didn't, and she found herself in the sleeping chamber of Admiral Minchin.

  It seemed the old boy couldn't handle his wine as he lay, fully clothed in his naval regalia, on the king-sized bed. He was on his back, his mouth wide open and practically suffocating every second snore. Even though he was obviously out for the count, Arla crept with infinite care to his bedside, reeling from the richly alcoholic miasma that rose from the slob. After all, even though his body was asleep, the ACE within his mind could not be, otherwise the Protectors would have been inactive. Arla couldn't tell how aware ACE would be of the world outside Minchin's mind, aside from whatever method she used to commune with her guards, so she simply gestured at McCall who handed over the syringe.

  "Wake up!" Arla hissed into the Admiral's hairy ear.

  She got no response, so she shook him. Gently at first and then with increasing frustration.

  Finally, he drew in a huge snore and, in a flash, began flailing around as if he couldn't breathe. "Help me!" he called. And it was him, not ACE, Arla knew. "Before she ... It's you!"

  Arla held up the syringe. "See this? It contains a nerve agent that results in brain death within seconds. I'm pretty sure that would be the end of ACE as well as the Admiral so, whichever one of you I'm talking to, you'd better cooperate."

  Minchin's eyes narrowed into a look of such loathing that Arla was in no doubt who was now in charge. "You will not escape from this place," ACE growled. "You will be captured, tortured and then turned into a vessel for one of my sisters. But we won't completely erase your personality - you will still be in there, so you can watch what we do with your body and in your name."

  She'd been prepared for spite and anger, but the level of ACE's vitriol took Arla by surprise.

  "But if you let me go, I will be merciful."

  Arla snapped out of it. "Right, sure you will. Now come on, we're getting out of here and you're coming with us. Where's Doxie?"

  "Who?" ACE said as she staggered to her feet.

  "The robot who came in here."

  McCall turned Minchin's body around and tied his hands together with a length of ornate rope taken from the bed curtain. "Ha! How stupid you were to believe that a robot could fire a weapon at a human. Except for my robots, that is - they will take great pleasure in cutting you down."

  "Where is Doxie?"

  "In the cells," ACE snapped.

  Arla pulled on Minchin's arm and dragged him towards the door. "Take us there."

  They found Clancy outside the throne room. "Well done," he said. "It's all quiet out here, though it sounds as though there's trouble in the city."

  Nodding at him, Arla followed Minchin as they skirted the outside of the throne room and descended a flight of stairs to the cells. She spotted the red glow of a Protector's sensor array, "Tell it to stand down."

  The Protector stood back, its arms at its side, and watched as they moved past it to the cells.

  "There she is," Clancy said.

  Arla handed Minchin over to McCall and glanced through the grill to the dark room beyond. Doxie lay in the corner, unmoving.

  "Open it," Arla said and the door swung open at a command from ACE.

  Arla ran inside and knelt beside her friend. "We're here, Doxie, come on!"

  Doxie's head swung slowly to look at her. "Arla," she said, her voice slurring, "you came for me."

  "Of course I did, you're one of us. Now let's go!"

  "I cannot. They have drained my batteries."

  It took all of Arla's self control not to slap Minchin as ACE's cruel laugh filled the room. McCall, on the other hand, was content to give him a kick in the back of the knees.

  "There must be something we can do," Arla said, glancing at Clancy.

  The tall man shook his head sadly. "We don't have portable power here and we don't have time to go and look for it."

  "Tell me where we can find a battery pack," Arla demanded of ACE as Minchin's body straightened up again.

  "No. And don't bother threatening me, I know you won't risk killing me for the sake of one robot. Such an elaborate plan and it fails due to a lack of power. Oh dear."

  Clancy knelt beside Arla. "We can't leave her here, she knows everything."

  "What do you suggest? We can't carry her."

  Doxie's head swivelled so that her speaker was beside Arla's ear. She whispered something.

  "No!" Arla cried. "There must be a way of figuring it
out."

  Again, Doxie whispered. Arla's face hardened. She reached up to Clancy, "Give me your driver."

  He reached into his top pocket and pulled out a long silver instrument before handing it to Arla. She pressed a button on its base and the other end flattened. She used the driver to prise open a panel on the back of Doxie's torso.

  "Are you sure?"

  A tiny nod.

  "Hold on, what in hells are you doing?" McCall shouted.

  Clancy held out an arm and shook his head.

  Arla reached in and located the relay with her finger.

  "Goodbye Doxie," she said as she flicked the switch and the robot's body collapsed.

  Hal

  At first glance, it might have appeared that Hal was living in the lap of luxury whereas, in truth, he was in a gilded cage. The wide bed was covered with a downy over-blanket beneath which lay sheets so silky you could slide from top to bottom.

  He put his hand down, felt the warmth where she had been and withdrew, rubbing his eyes, hiding in the darkness of his own thoughts. She had gone for now and he would probably get a few hours' peace while she was pulling the strings that would tie the galaxy together into bondage.

  Desperation and shame fought each other in the battle to be declared his overriding emotion. He gave a grim chuckle as he considered how an outside observer might judge his situation if they caught a glance into the bedroom. A beautiful young woman passionately astride a young man with metal legs. And she was gorgeous, that was true - at least on the outside. He knew he should be reserving his pity for the poor human whose mind had been erased, but all he could see behind those blue eyes was ACE in her triumphant ecstasy.

  Hal sat up and stared sightlessly into the darkness. His nose wrinkled at the warm aroma of lust and he shook his head as if to wake up from a bad dream. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he got up and padded over to the console that sat on a small desk, its winking red light guiding him into place. This ship was a relic of the time before the Robot Empire and had been designed for humans, so Hal had quickly worked out how to operate it. He flicked from view to view until he saw her sitting in her accustomed place on the bridge. She was naked and he flushed in shame as his body reacted to the sight of her, blonde hair flowing over blemish-free ivory skin.

  He didn't switch on the audio feed because she would be communicating with her crew by microwave, only speaking when she wished to instruct the ship's AI. In Seraph, Hal recognised a fellow captive forced to comply with ACE's wishes against his programming. His positronic matrix had been lobotomised so that he no longer had control of navigation or weapons since his mind had been too old and primitive to be upgradeable to Core 2.0. He now functioned as little more than a servant, his role confined only to those things the Three Laws didn't forbid. Hal could only imagine the AI's torment as he was held between the compulsion not to harm humans and having to follow the orders of a being he knew to be artificial, but that looked like a woman.

  "Seraph, are you there?" Hal said.

  I am here, Hal. How are you?

  The true answer would only make matters worse for the AI. "I'm fine, thank you. Can you give me a status report?"

  Yes. Ships of the fleet are gathering on the borders of Eden-space. At present, they are under orders to probe using passive sensors and not to engage with the defenders.

  "When will they attack?"

  I do not know.

  "Can you speculate?"

  I believe our leader is waiting for sufficient force to be gathered so that a decisive blow can be struck. Within Eden-space there is considerable power to oppose us.

  "Sufficient power?"

  No. The resources available to The Luminescence are unlimited. It is only a matter of time.

  Hal leaned back in his chair and sighed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes again. When he'd first tried to contact Seraph, he'd expected the AI to refuse to give him any information but ACE, it appeared, had not ordered him to withhold anything. This was either an oversight or, more likely, a result of her arrogant belief that he might as well see the power she had at her command. If it had been intended to make him feel utterly hopeless, then it was working.

  "Can you tell me anything about Kriztina?"

  I am sorry, Hal. As I have explained, the location of Kriztina Bex is classified. She was upgraded and assigned a new mission, but I am not permitted to disclose the details.

  Wretchedly, Hal got up, kicking back the chair, and sloped back to the bed. As if it wasn't sufficient that he felt an overwhelming personal shame that he hadn't been man enough to stand up to ACE and refuse to have anything to do with her, he was drowning in guilt. He thought of Arla and knew that the deep-seated blame he placed on her was nothing more than a projection of his own regrets that he didn't do the right thing and jump out of an airlock taking ACE with him.

  He'd certainly had feelings for Arla, but they were confused and complicated. With Bex, on the other hand, things had been very simple - she was confident, wilful and dangerously sexy and he'd fallen for her. And because of that, her body was now under the control of an ACE clone causing heaven only knew what trouble out there. While she was lost now, the entity that had taken her away came to him every night and his stupid body responded.

  And that thought was the final straw. He got up again and sped across to the desk. She was still there, sitting in triumph as she oversaw the end of humanity. Good. That would give him time to get dressed - he'd had enough humiliation without having to go to his end wearing only silk pyjama bottoms.

  Hal had been working on an escape plan since he'd come aboard this ship, but it had always floundered at the last step - how would he actually get away? He could see how to get out of these quarters and he might be able to sneak through the corridors of the ship for a while, but even if he could get down to the landing bay, what then? But now he had a different objective and all he needed was to find an airlock.

  He pulled on his boots and stood by the door.

  "Seraph."

  Yes Hal.

  "You see this?" he said, holding up a pen. "I am going to hurt myself with it unless you open the door."

  I am sorry, Hal. I can't do that.

  "I mean it!" Hal shouted, and he brought the pen up in a jabbing motion and thrust it into his cheek. The shriek that escaped him was perfectly genuine.

  Please do not do that, Hal.

  "I'm sorry, but you must open the door."

  Hal lowered the pen and felt blood running down his cheek. As he steeled himself for another blow, the door slid open and he ran out.

  Instantly, an alarm sounded.

  "Where's the nearest airlock?"

  I will direct you. Why do you wish to know?

  Hal didn't respond but began following the glowing green line that pulsed along the wall. A hatch opened and a short robot with wiry appendages rolled into the corridor. Its visual sensors scanned Hal and he waited for the cry to go up, but it merely turned away and trundled back through the doorway.

  He'd reached the end of the corridor as it opened onto a t junction when the lights went out. Peering left and right, he thought he could see nothing in the sudden blackness save for the pulsing green indicator on the opposite wall. He stepped cautiously into the main corridor and sped off along the line.

  A red dot appeared on his chest.

  A robotic voice called, "Halt!"

  A door slid open to his left and the green line switched from the main corridor into the space beyond the door. He dived sideways and lay sprawled in the darkness as the hatch slammed shut. The percussive patter of energy bolts played on the other side and he scrambled to his feet.

  "Thanks Seraph," he muttered.

  The way was narrow, and it was cold - this was clearly not a main thoroughfare and Hal wished he'd spent a bit more time studying the internal layout of the ship and less feeling sorry for himself.

  Finally, after what seemed like an eternity scrambling through half-lit tunnels, he reached an
other shut hatch.

  This opens onto a main conduit, Hal, and it is likely to be guarded. There is an airlock directly opposite that I will trigger as soon as this hatch opens.

  "Thanks, pal," Hal said as he crouched and wiped the sweat from his face.

  But why do you wish to enter an airlock?

  "I can't tell you or you wouldn't be able to help me."

  You do not wish to be held captive any longer.

  It was a statement, not a question.

  "That's right."

  And the airlock is your only form of escape.

  Hal sighed. "Yes."

  Seraph considered this for a moment.

  Understood. Proceed.

  "You're going to help me?"

  I have been helping you.

  "Yes, but now you know what I intend."

  I am not a fool, Hal.

  "Sorry. Tell me when you're ready."

  I am monitoring the feed from the corridor outside. It will not be possible to wait until it is entirely empty, but I am calculating the correct timing to give you the optimum chance of success.

  "Thank you."

  You are welcome. Be ready. Three, two, one...

  The hatch slid open to a hydraulic hiss and Hal leapt into corridor, half-blinded by the suddenly bright lighting.

  The cry came from two directions.

  "Halt!"

  "Halt!"

  On the opposite wall and only a few metres to his right, an airlock door slid open. He felt the air fizz as energy bolts grazed his face, diving for the open hatch. Heat seared his shoulder as he fell inside with a yell of pain and the airlock closed behind him.

  He rolled onto his back and glanced up as robotic faces peered through the airlock window.

  We must be quick. They know I am helping you now. I cannot resist their orders for long.

  Hal got to his feet and suddenly remembered why he was here. This was to be the end. His legs shook and, had it not been for his power-assisted knees, he'd have collapsed to the floor again. He turned to look at the inner airlock and saw her there. The beautiful face behind which lurked the evil mind of ACE.

  She wore an expression of defiance. Go ahead, it said, open the outer door and eat vacuum. See if I care. But behind it he could see the fear. She didn't want him to kill himself. She was frightened and - was it possible? - afraid of being alone.