He can’t when he is under Caviezel’s control. He can only talk to you when he sleeps, and only then when his mind is free from the shielding they have in place.
Shielding? There are more like him, aren’t there? At the source?
Perhaps. I don’t know.
We have to stop this.
Yes, Ms. Smith, we do.
Kodiak. Special Agent Von Kodiak. Where is he? Can he help?
Don’t worry about Mr. Kodiak, Ms. Smith. I’m looking after him.
So what must I do?
You are directly connected to the JMC. We share the same network of psionic synapses. If you concentrate, you should be able to see what I see.
I …
Concentrate, Ms. Smith.
I can see it. I can see it. Dark and light, together, at once. I feel like … I’m falling. I’m falling!
Don’t panic. That’s the raw data of the JMC net flooding your synapses. It’s bound to be disorienting at first.
Wait.
Ms. Smith?
There’s something else here.
Yes.
Oh god … it’s … what is it?
That’s the Spider OS. It’s still rewriting itself, recompiling parts of its own being, trying to break through my last silo.
But … what do I do? What do I do?
You fight it, Ms. Smith. You are a psi-marine. You are trained to infiltrate the Spider communications web with your mind and disrupt it. Not only that, your mind is possessed of a greater power.
But I can’t control it!
Yes, you can. You need to reach inside your unconscious, take control. You can do it.
I …
You need to take control, now. I can try to hold the infection back, but I have little processing power left and the Spider OS is rewriting itself to bypass my failsafes. You can help me purge the system. Together we can burn it out.
I’m not a psi-marine!
On the contrary, you are the most powerful psi-marine the Fleet has ever seen. You can fight this. I need you to fight this.
I can’t!
You can.
I’m afraid.
And you have no choice, Ms. Smith. A moment longer, and the last silo will fall as Lucifer rises.
Oh, my God. It’s near us. It’s so close, I can feel it.
Open your mind. Take control. Fight it! You must fight it!
37
For a long moment, nobody spoke. They just stared at Kodiak as the Spider rattle echoed around the control room. Kodiak realized he was holding his breath, and he let it out. He glanced up at the gallery. Tyler Smith was still in position, unmoving. It was hard to tell, but Kodiak assumed his gun was aimed squarely at him.
The alien chatter of the SpiderWeb filled the room. To Kodiak—and Braben—it was instantly recognizable. Everyone in the Fleet, even general and non-combat staff, received an education about their relentless, mindless enemy. That education included listening to the bone-chilling noise of the Spiders as their individual machines communicated with each other. Even if you never met them on the battlefield, all Fleet personnel knew their call.
Kodiak glanced at Caviezel. Did he recognize it? Had he heard the sound of the SpiderWeb? The JMC and Fleet were closely aligned, and the parent company—the Caviezel Corporation—even more so. Surely he would have heard it, somewhere, sometime.
But it didn’t matter, thought Kodiak. Even if a person had never heard it before, they would know that the sound was wrong. The insectoid clicking wasn’t even the full signal, just the wash left by the psychic communication net spilling into regular transmission wavelengths. Maybe that was part of it—tied to the signal was an echo, a whisper of psionic energy that made it feel like something very big and very bad was breathing right down your neck. The presence in the room, real, palpable.
Evil.
The white noise washed around the cavernous control room like ocean waves crashing on a distant shore, the underlying clicking, tapping, rattling of the SpiderWeb constant, relentless, unending. No sooner did Kodiak’s brain identify a pattern, a code, than it changed and became something else. Listening to it for too long would be enough to drive a person mad.
Enough was enough.
“Shut it off!” he yelled.
Braben, Flood, and Caviezel just looked at him. Then Braben moved over to the servitor at the console.
“Kill it,” said Braben.
The servitor looked to his boss for confirmation. The executive nodded his assent. The servitor’s hands moved over the panel, and the sound shut off.
Kodiak winced, and he saw the others flinch too. The sudden silence was like a slap in the face, a shock that was almost electric. A tiny bit of psychic feedback from the SpiderWeb as the weak connection shared between everyone in the room, psi-abled or not, was broken. Kodiak suddenly had a new appreciation of the horror faced by the psi-marines as they went into battle with their own minds. He’d never heard the Spiders’ call in person. The recordings back at Bureau training were nothing compared to the live signal. It wasn’t so much heard as experienced. And it wasn’t something Kodiak wanted to experience again.
Flood moved to the console, glancing across the readings before looking up at the Jupiter projection and then across the room at Cait wired into the alcove. She was now quiet, but still muttering something, still watching something that wasn’t in the room.
Flood spun on her heel to face Mr. Caviezel. “What’s happening?”
The executive adjusted his cuffs and moved to the console. The servitor relinquished its seat, allowing Caviezel to take the controls. The Jupiter projection rotated again and zoomed in to the unifed icon of the Sigma machine. Caviezel leaned back and pointed.
“Everything is proceeding according to plan, Your Holiness.” There was the barb again, Flood, lost in her own world, blissfully unaware.
Kodiak laughed. He couldn’t help it. Everyone looked at him again.
“Did your plan include allowing your robot mines to build a Spider?”
Caviezel pursed his lips, like there was nothing wrong at all. A far cry, Kodiak thought, from the fear and confusion he’d seen on the executive’s face just before, when the Spiders’ call was burrowing into their ears.
“A minor technical issue.” He pointed again to the Jupiter projection. “The Spider AI is required to operate my machine, but I can assure you it is completely under my control. I have the Pilot here, after all.” He pointed at Cait as he nodded at Flood. “And thank you for your assistance, Your Holiness, but your help is now no longer required. I think the time has come to terminate our arrangement.”
Two of the big Bureau servitors closest to the group immediately turned and opened fire. Kodiak instinctively ducked for cover, scrambling backwards as he saw the bodies of Flood’s four loyal henchmen go flying, pummeled by the rapid plasma fire from the machines.
It was over in three seconds, maybe less. As the bodies of Flood’s soldiers lay smoking on the floor, the two active war machines twisted on their angular legs to cover Flood, the last member of the Morning Star left standing. She stood, frozen, staring at her dead acolytes while Caviezel stood from his position at the console and clasped his hands in front of him, glancing around, nodding to himself.
Kodiak, heart racing, pulled himself to his feet and took a step backwards.
Then someone grabbed his wrist, and he turned around.
The servitor that had signaled him earlier. Glass. It looked Kodiak in the eye and nodded again, then released its grip.
“What have you done?” asked Flood, turning her eyes to Caviezel, her eyes wide. “What have you done?” Tears again. “You defile the return of the Fallen One.”
Caviezel grimaced. “Oh, cut the homespun claptrap, it’s tiresome.” He spread his hands. “But I have my machine. I have my Pilot.” He spread his hands apologetically.
Flood snarled and leapt toward the executive. Caviezel just smiled, didn’t even flinch.
There was a shot.
Flood dropped to the floor at the executive’s feet. Kodiak glanced up at the railing and saw Tyler Smith look up from his sniper scope.
Caviezel pushed Flood’s body with his foot, rolling her onto her back. She was still alive. It looked like she’d been shot through the shoulder. Kodiak frowned. That should have been an easy shot—a sniper rifle was pinpoint accurate over thousands of meters, and Tyler was a trained sharpshooter.
Which meant the shot was deliberate. Kodiak ground his back teeth. Was Caviezel that much of a sadist? Without medical attention, Flood would bleed out and die. But it would take a while. A long, agonizing while.
The JMC executive leaned over Flood. She stared back at him, blood bubbling from her mouth.
“Business is business, my dear,” he said. “And I have never been one to shrink away from making difficult decisions for the good of the company.”
The control room lights dimmed again. This time the refinery shook. Caviezel looked up at the planetary projection.
“Problem?” asked Braben.
Caviezel glanced back to the console, the servitor he had replaced now back in the chair. The male facsimile checked the readings. “Power drain in primary fusion cores. Trying to trace the fault now.”
The room went dark. The only illumination now came from the planetary projection and the myriad lights at the panels surrounding Cait on the other side of the chamber.
The room shook again.
Braben turned to Caviezel. “Something tells me this isn’t part of your plan.”
Caviezel waved him away as he looked up at the projection.
“Sir?”
“Quiet,” the executive snapped. “Let me think.”
Kodiak looked around. Braben and Caviezel were preoccupied. He took the opportunity and slipped around the consoles, heading toward Cait. It seemed like she was still alive, but he had to admit he had no idea whether it was her or just the computer animating her corpse.
“Hey, buddy, I wouldn’t.”
Kodiak stopped and turned around. Braben had him covered with his staser.
Kodiak shook his head. “I don’t know what your boss told you was going to happen,” said Kodiak. “But it doesn’t look like it’s going so smoothly, does it?”
Braben adjusted his grip on his gun, but Kodiak could see he was getting through to the former agent.
The control room shook, enough that Braben and Kodiak had to brace themselves, Caviezel grabbing the top of the servitor’s chair for balance. The floor tilted one way, then the other. Braben dropped his staser as he fought to keep his footing. Then the floor tilted again as the refinery stabilized back to level.
As it did, the staser slid toward Kodiak.
Braben made a grab for it, but Kodiak was quicker, taking a step backwards toward Cait as he scooped the gun up and covered his old partner. Braben pulled up, held his hands up, and then backed away.
Another tremor.
Something was very, very wrong, Kodiak thought. He met Braben’s eye and narrowed his own, quickly considering the options. It was time to make another decision. He just hoped it was the right one.
“We don’t have time for this,” he said. “Looks like we’re all in trouble.”
With that, he slid the staser into the empty holster on his hip and turned his back on Braben to move over to Cait. At her side, Kodiak looked back, but Braben just stood where he was, watching.
Kodiak turned his attention to Cait. Her eyes darted left and right; Kodiak stepped into her line of vision but nothing changed. She couldn’t see him. Her lips moved as she recited her silent mantra. The bright, winking lights on the panels around her threw hard, moving shadows across her face. The blood running down the side of her face looked black, and her skin was slick with sweat. Kodiak took her hand. It was ice cold. He felt for her pulse, that sinking feeling threatening to overwhelm him.
It was there. Weak, slow, but it was there.
His primary aim was now to get them both out of here. It was impossible to tell if the Spider infection was gone, or if that even mattered anymore, given that Caviezel had apparently built a machine for alien AI. The movements of the refinery suggested that time was running out.
He took a breath and made his choice. He had to get her out of there.
Had to.
“Cait,” he said. “Cait, can you hear me? Can you hear me?”
Her mouth stopped moving, and her eyes stopped moving, locking onto Kodiak’s face.
“Von?” she whispered.
She was still with them.
Kodiak squeezed her hand.
“What are you doing?” asked Braben. He came up to Kodiak’s side and shoved his shoulder. Kodiak went with the movement, then, his arm hanging loose, clenched his fist and swung. His punch landed square on Braben’s jaw, sending the former agent sprawling on his backside. Braben’s eyes were screwed tight in pain as he rolled onto his elbows, but as Kodiak looked down at him, he didn’t get up.
Caviezel called out from the other side of the control room. “It’s a full power loss.” He looked at Kodiak and pointed at Cait. “She’s the only link we have left with the computer. We have to ask her what’s happening to the refinery.”
Kodiak looked around. The servitors seated at the two sweeping consoles appeared to be frozen in place, hands at the controls but completely unmoving. They’d been cut off from the main AI, somehow.
Kodiak nodded and turned back to Cait. “Cait, listen to me. What’s happening?”
Her eyes drifted over Kodiak’s face. “Von?”
“I’m here, Cait. I need your help. Something’s happening to the refinery. We’ve lost most of the systems so you’re the only link with the computer. What’s happening?”
Cait squinted and tilted her head. There was a beep; Kodiak turned and saw the station Caviezel had sat at was active again. Caviezel leaned around the deactivated servitor to operate the controls, and a small holodisplay appeared in front of him, the images changing as he flicked through the data readouts.
The station shook again.
“What’s happening?” asked Kodiak.
“Refinery stability at thirty-five percent,” said Caviezel. “The power cores are being shut down, one at a time.”
“How many are there?”
“Ten.”
“And what happens when they all go?”
Caviezel looked up. “We fall into the planet.”
38
Silo breached. Primary systems failure.
It’s too strong. I can’t hold it. It’s drawing power from the primary cores. I can’t fight it anymore.
SIHK:JH breachLKJH. Primary systems fALKJ EHK*7632.
I’m sorry.
Don’t be, Ms. SmithKG &6875. Total system shutdLKHN(*97h& in three secon986KHB7
Shutdown?
KLJHSDF7634KJSDF*(*^HKH B298KH8 8 KHKJH86-;JOWEN 973 (J 27&*(&HKJ,
Shutdown! I can do that. I can. Shut it all down. Every system. Kill the infection.
Geotechnic Logistical Autonomous Systems Supervisor. Reboot in five …
Glass?
… four …
Can you hear me?
… three …
Just me then. Commencing shutdown.
… two …
Power cores offline and cooling.
… one …
Refinery shutdown complete. Platform stability ten percent and falling.
Geotechnic Logistical Autonomous Systems Supervisor online.
Goodbye, Glass.
Very clever, Ms. Smith. Well done.
Ha! Thanks.
KJH LKJ87 (*&KJN 837H*6KJH387JHK 834HK[POEG[84-)(*KJ3M970 [J4MLKA;F90.
Couldn’t have put it better myself.
39
“It’s her,” said Caviezel. He pointed at Cait and rushed over to the alcove. Braben pulled himself to his feet and followed, bracing himself when the floor shook again as another power core went offline.
“We’re going to fall into Jupiter?”
he asked. “What’s going to happen to your Lucifer machine?”
“The machine is autonomous, powered by a fragment of the Spider AI,” said the executive. “A fragment I control, thanks to my Pilot.” He turned, looked around the control room as though he had lost something. “But if the refinery falls and takes the Pilot with it, I would assume the Spider AI will be able to take full control and attempt to make contact with the gestalt. And then it will do what any Spider does.”
The floor shook. Kodiak steadied himself, then looked up at Caviezel. “You really think you can control a Spider with a Pilot?” He was right. The executive was insane.
Caviezel brought himself up tall and stuck his chin out, like it was a matter of pride. “Of course. With the Spider operating system installed on the war machine built by the Sigma mines, I have calculated a window of opportunity where a psi-abled Pilot would be able to take control before the Spider AI became self-aware and attempted to reconnect with the Spider gestalt. The interference being generated by the mines themselves is also helping to keep the Spider AI isolated and suppressed while the Pilot gains total control.”
Kodiak shook his head. Nobody had ever been able to control a Spider—the only contact ever made between humankind and the machine gestalt was in battle, when the psi-marines used their minds to jam the Spiders’ psychic comms network, isolating individual machines from the gestalt, sending their computers into infinite loops while they tried to reconnect.
The Machine Awakes Page 27