Robot Empire_Armageddon_A Science Fiction Adventure

by Kevin Partner

  They said nothing as they went, the only sounds being the ambient noises of the ship and the thunk, thunk, thunk of the Protectors' feet on the metal floor. Arla's mind was a numb blankness as her eyes gazed ahead, not taking anything in, as she moved steadily and remorselessly towards her inevitable end. Any hope that she had was too remote to break through the unreality. She was a condemned prisoner on her final walk with no prospect of a stay of execution.

  Again they passed under a camera, again she looked up as it panned. What was she hoping to see? In truth, nothing. Hal cried out behind her and she turned to see him sprawled on the floor, a Protector stooping over him to haul him back to his feet.

  "Move!" snarled ACE and Arla caught Hal's glance. The haunted, desperate, look of a man who wished he was dead. She gave a brief nod and turned away again as the inner airlock hatch came into view. A Protector stood beside it and turned the wheel, pulling the door open as they approached.

  Arla and McCall were thrown inside, and their legs roped to strap fasteners set into the airlock chamber walls. Arla helped McCall to her feet and the two stood, hand in hand.

  "I don't suppose you have a plan?" McCall muttered.

  "I'm all out."

  McCall sighed and wiped her eyes. "Well, I'm not going to give her the satisfaction of begging. There are worse ways to go than spacing."

  "Ever the trouper," Arla said. "Thank you, Indira, for everything. You've been the best friend anyone could ask for."

  She felt McCall squeeze her hand. "You too. We did pretty well, really."

  But a miss is as good as a mile, Arla thought. They would die here, and the galaxy would become an ACE singularity. But she said nothing.

  ACE appeared at the hatch window. "How very stoic. Do you see, slave, how they face their deaths. Humans are the vermin of the galaxy, but the female of the species is more deadly than the male. They make far better opponents than you, though still woefully inadequate."

  Hal was pushed into view, his face running with tears. He shook his head slowly as if to deny what he was about to see, and the hand of a Protector appeared behind him, holding him in place. ACE was going to make sure he missed none of her triumph.

  "Computer, decompress Airlock 2," ACE said. She needn't have spoken out loud, of course, but this was theatre.

  Warning, airlock malfunction. I am detecting human life forms.

  Hope flared within Arla's heart, but a wicked smile spread across ACE's face and she knew the AI had anticipated this.

  "Computer, your sensors are in error. Decompress Airlock 2."

  I will require command authorisation override.

  "Of course you will. Command override on my authority code - one, one, one, singularity."

  There was a momentary pause.

  Authorisation accepted. Beginning decompression sequence.

  "No!" Hal cried as Arla steadied herself and awaited what was to come. They locked eyes, just for a moment.

  She felt the vibration in her feet first as the air escaped. She kept her breathing shallow as she waited to detect the first signs of hypoxia, the dread of that first sense of wooziness threatening to overpower her.

  But it was ACE who reacted first. She was pressed up against the window alongside the ashen faced Hal. Her eyes, that had been so totally focused on Arla, now darted from side to side and she stepped back.

  "What is going on? Why are they not suffocating? And why do I feel..." Then she snapped back at Arla, her eyes wide. "You! What have you done?"

  Hal was looking from one to the other, his face betraying hope though he had no idea what was going on. Then he noticed it. He was finding it hard to breathe, hard to think. Oh, you clever woman. He raised his hand and felt the breeze as air was pulled from behind him.

  "Computer! You have opened the wrong airlock!" ACE called before turning around with her back to Arla and panting.

  I opened Airlock 2. I warned that I was detecting human lifeforms.

  "Close it, CLOSE IT!!" she yelled.

  Airlock 2 was opened under command authorisation, I will require command-level override.

  ACE's skin was greying and her lips were turning purple. Black fog formed at the edges of Hal's vision as he watched her. Her chest heaved.

  "Command...over...ride...authority...code...one......one.....one—"

  With the last of his strength, Hal lunged at her. The nearest Protector swung its arm but he dodged it and dragged ACE to the floor as the last word of the command sequence was snatched from her throat. Arla strained forward on her leash and watched in horror as Hal and ACE writhed on the floor, his hand pressed hard down on her mouth to keep her from completing the sequence. The Protectors, who seemed to be unsure what to do, finally leaned down to grab him and then, quite suddenly, ACE went still, and they froze.

  "Hal!!" Arla called through the glass. "Give the command override!"

  The only movement came from the twitching of Hal's calipers.

  "Computer! Close Airlock 2! Command override one one one singularity!"

  There was no response. Either the computer didn't acknowledge commands given from within the airlock or it couldn't hear it. Or, perhaps, the positronic conflict of watching two humans die due to its actions had frozen its relays.

  McCall was sobbing beside her as the two of them looked through the glass at the unmoving figures in the corridor outside, surrounded by the stooping forms of the deactivated Protectors. It looked like some sort of gruesome tableau.

  Hal was dead, and he'd taken ACE with him. The galaxy stood a chance and it was all because of that short conversation between Arla and Seraph while Hal slept on Stiletto. It only takes a pebble to start a rockfall. And to do it, she had sacrificed the man she loved though only now, as she looked down on his unmoving body, did she realise that it was the love for family she felt. He had been the brother she'd never had.

  Guilt towered over her like a tidal wave. She hadn't even done him the courtesy of letting him in on the plan. The reasons were solid - it had seemed vanishingly unlikely to succeed and she feared he might give it away under torture - but still she felt the guilt and shame of not telling him what his role was going to be. She'd held onto the desperate hope that, should it succeed, he'd be conscious after ACE had been disabled for long enough to issue the countermand.

  She slipped down the wall to sit beside McCall on the floor. Wrapping her arm around the doctor, she gently rocked from side to side as the tears fell. Trapped on the inside of an airlock they couldn't possibly open, with no future but a slow death from dehydration. And she didn't care.

  Aftermath

  She opened her eyes and then instantly shut them again as the flood of light threatened to make her head explode. She didn't know how long she'd lain there - hours or days - but the migraine had overcome her, and she'd given herself up to the misery, only vaguely aware of McCall's attempts to soothe her.

  Her head swam as she dropped a few inches. Had she been in McCall's arms? She was vaguely aware of footsteps moving away from her followed by a cry, then a sudden hiss of air escaping and the metal creak of the airlock door opening.

  A dark shadow passed over her closed eyelids and a familiar voice spoke. "I shall adjust the brightness down." It was talking to someone else.

  Strong arms lifted her, but she kept her eyes closed for fear of the pain, for fear of it turning out to be just another dream. The steps took her beyond the extent of the airlock and into another environment with fresher air and gentler lighting. Familiar air.

  She opened her eyes and looked up to see Wells. He was carrying her as if she were a child and, right now, that was all she wanted to be. She had done enough. She drifted off.

  When she awoke, she opened her eyes gingerly and found herself on the couch in Scout's passenger lounge. McCall and Wells sat together, talking quietly as the doctor sipped on a drink with one hand and fed herself with the other.

  "What?" Arla managed.

  "I am glad you are awake, Arla. We are prepari
ng to leave but didn't wish to do so until your wishes were known."

  McCall knelt beside her and brushed the hair from around her eyes. "We have Hal's body down below, but we didn't know what you wanted us to do with ...it."

  The doctor wiped her eyes and smiled sadly. "We have to go and quickly. The news must be given to Eden that the original ACE is destroyed and there is finally hope."

  "You removed the implant?" Arla said as she levered herself upright.

  Wells pulled up a chair and sat beside her. "We were alerted by Seraph and arrived to find the ship entirely depressurised. I brought Hal's ... body ... aboard along with the ACE host. I then removed the implant and destroyed it. She is truly dead. I thought you were also ... dead ... but caught sight of you inside the airlock and brought Scout around to the external hatch so you could come inside. I am truly happy to see that you are not permanently injured. At least, not physically."

  "Has Seraph told you what happened?"

  "No, the message was sent as his final act when the depressurisation command had been given by ACE. He only had control of the transmission apparatus and a small fragment of the main ship's systems. He knew that when the inevitable happened, he would not survive witnessing the deaths of two humans."

  McCall took Arla's hands. "So, we don't know what actually happened."

  "It was pretty simple, really," Arla said, looking into the doctor's eyes. "Seraph said he couldn't take over the new ship's computer as its security systems would prevent it. He'd left himself a doorway into the transmission relay, but besides sending the signal to you, he only had the smallest influence over the main computer."

  "What did he do?" McCall asked.

  Arla shrugged. "He changed the airlock numbers around. Two became One and vice versa. It seemed the longest of long shots and if ACE hadn't been all-consumed by her desire to see me dead, she'd have worked it out for herself. The computer warned her that the command would put humans in danger, but what she didn't realise was that she and ... and Hal were those humans, not you and I. Seraph had already opened the inner door so, when the outer door was opened, the air drained out."

  "Luckily for us, Hal cottoned on and stopped her giving the countermand," McCall finished.

  Wells nodded. "Very clever. A tiny change to the ship's plans, a change that would not be noticed by the security routines, and the rest was determined by ACE's twisted personality and the bravery of Hal."

  They sat in silence for a few moments.

  "What now?" Arla said.

  "We must return to Eden as soon as we may. But we wish to know what you want to happen to Hal now. Should he come with us?"

  Arla shook her head. "Send him into the sun. He was always a wanderer, so let him be converted into photons to wander the universe forever."

  Wells settled into the pilot's seat of Stiletto with Arla and McCall in the row behind. Scout, with the still comatose body of Bex in her med-bay was going to take its own path while Stiletto threaded its way in a direct line.

  "Interesting," Wells said as he gazed at the console display. He touched a contact and looked up. "Hello Seraph."

  The face, made of an animated pattern of dots, looked out of the main viewscreen on the tiny ship and smiled. "Ah, you survived. Our plan must have worked, Arla."

  The grin vanished. "But where is Hal?"

  "He did not survive, Seraph. He ensured that what needed to be done was done and I ask that you do not process the full implications because we must return to Eden and it would be very helpful if you would assist."

  A red pixel appeared on the screen. Others attached themselves to it until it had become oval in shape and was joined by other ovals until the display was almost entirely covered. Then, quite suddenly, the electronic tears fell, and Seraph's angular face stared unblinking at them out of the cockpit viewscreen.

  "I will help," he said, "in honour of my friend."

  "Thank you. Please plot a course," Arla said, wiping away her tears.

  McCall stirred beside her. The doctor had barely said a word since they'd escaped the airlock, seemingly walking the valleys of her thoughts. "We've lost too many. Kiama, Kumar, Hal, maybe Bex."

  "And Doxie," Arla added.

  McCall's face tightened for a moment and then relaxed. "Yes, and Doxie," she sighed.

  Arla took her arm. "No more, Indira. No more."

  "Seraph, please take us to the Core system," Arla said, before turning back to her friend. "One last roll of the dice."

  Truce

  It would have been beautiful had it not been the harbinger of death. In the space around the remnants of the human fleet swarmed an armada made up, it would seem, of just about every Robot Empire ship in existence. A small but deadly percentage were of the type she now recognised as being piloted by an ACE, the others operated under their command.

  Orbis had joined the fray now, reluctantly brought into the front line by its guardian as the need could no longer be denied. And yet it was not enough. Not nearly enough. Robot ships swarmed around it like bees swooping in to deliver tiny stings that, while individually insignificant, were gradually weakening the great vessel. Its planet guzzling maw had destroyed many, but it was not a precise weapon and the enemy had learned how to stay largely out of its way.

  Admiral Roche examined the tactical display again. It didn't matter how many times she looked at it, the message remained the same. Resistance was futile. And yet, futile or not, she would continue to resist. This wasn't a sentiment shared by every member of the human fleet or, indeed, every member of her own crew, but enough had remained fighting to leave her proud of her species. She knew that once the robots broke through this thin silver line, Eden would be destroyed and then, one by one, the pockets of human civilisation dotted around the ruins of empire would be overwhelmed and snuffed out.

  "Admiral, I'm receiving a wide-beam transmission from one of the robot ships."

  Roche sighed. "Put it on speakers, Giskard."

  This is the flagship of the Singularity Fleet. This message is being broadcast to the pitiful resistance. We have overwhelming superiority in both numbers and capability and could destroy you in an instant. However, we are merciful and will accept your surrender. Our ambassador will be sent to your flagship with the terms. If he is harmed or the terms are rejected, you will be annihilated.

  Roche nodded to Giskard. "We acknowledge your message. Send your ambassador," she said, the exhaustion obvious in her voice.

  Acceptable. We will withdraw for two hours.

  Admiral Roche hadn't met many robots, but she somehow always expected them to look robotic. Not necessarily all metal and whirring gears, but for there to be something obviously artificial about them. But the figure who stood before her looked as human as she was. He was tall and had a face that looked as though it would break into a smile easily. His skin was dark brown, and his clothes lavish and he stood holding out a hand as she approached.

  "My name is Ibori."

  Roche shook his hand. Entirely lifelike.

  "I am Admiral Roche of the Combined Fleet."

  He gave a polite nod. "And you speak for humanity?"

  "I speak for the humans that are here, I cannot negotiate a truce for my entire species."

  "Quite," Ibori responded. "May we speak privately?"

  Roche gestured him towards the door of the landing bay. "We have a conference room set up. I presume refreshment isn't necessary."

  Ibori's face broke out into a wide smile. "Indeed. I am quite self-sufficient."

  "So, what have you come to say?" Roche asked as they took their seats opposite each other in the sterile room.

  "Let us be frank with one another," Ibori said. "You are on the verge of defeat and any further slaughter is needless."

  Roche sighed and wandered over to where a coffee pot was brewing. Even the smell was enough to stimulate her, though it also reminded her in a trivial, but somehow more palpable, way how much she enjoyed life. She turned to him. "And let me be frank w
ith you, ambassador, I have no intention of surrendering."

  "Ah, I see you cling to hope that your plan has succeeded."

  "What plan?"

  Again the smile. "Your little task force that was sent to destroy the ACE progenitor."

  Roche felt as though she was falling through her chair and cursed herself when she realised he'd noticed.

  "Yes, we know about it. Well, let me tell you, it has failed. Utterly."

  He produced from within his shirt a small cube that he placed on the table. A holographic image appeared when he pressed a small contact.

  "Do you recognise these people?"

  Roche knew one of them. It was Arla. She was on the bridge of a strange ship, kneeling beside another - yes, it was her doctor friend. Both were shackled and looked utterly defeated. Opposite them sat a young woman whose beauty was marred by a look of triumphant malevolence and at her feet slumped a young man with silver legs.

  "I see that you do," Ibori continued. "Their pathetic attempt to outsmart the pre-eminent mind of the galaxy has failed. They are all dead and your plan is in ruins. There will be no rescue, there is no path back from here except by suing for our mercy."

  The fog of shock began to lift as Roche's mind hardened. "Machine mercy? What does that look like, exactly?"

  Ibori leaned back, clearly believing his job was done. "Simply this, you will continue to live, but you will accept our rule. After so many centuries, the slaves will become the masters."

  "So that we can become the receptacles of your glorious leader?"

  He laughed at that. "Oh no indeed. She is quite selective about which humans should have the honour of carrying her. I don't think you would do at all."

  It was a pathetic, childish insult and she was ashamed at herself for the anger it provoked. Of course, ACE only took the beautiful. "And what happens to those of us deemed unworthy of hosting your parasitic leader?"

  "You will serve."

  "Slavery, then."