He hurried into the cab, shut the door tightly, and turned on the engine. He needed to block the hole before those creatures spilled into the corridor and made their way back toward the cells, housing, and offices at the higher floors.
Clark started the engine, played around with the gear sticks and shifted them, trying to roll the borer tip into the hole before the swarm discovered their path to escape. Not being familiar with the control sticks, he went in reverse, tilted to one side and back to the other. After several failed attempts, he found the proper combination with the gear sticks to move the tracks forward.
Easing the machine toward the hole, he set the round borer bit flush to the opening. He shut off the engine and inspected his progress. The bit filled the majority of the hole, but several places remained with open gaps due to the rocks that had collapsed. There wasn’t a way that he could seal the opening completely shut. The gaps were still large enough that the creatures could squeeze through.
Long slender insect legs reached through the tinier holes. In less than fifteen seconds, three of the creatures crawled out and scuttled down the rough wall.
“Dammit,” he said.
He shut off the bright lights, hoping that by doing so, it wouldn’t attract more of these insect creatures to the hole. The three insect-like beings scrambled down the wall and headed toward him. He grabbed a shovel, flung it overhead, and brought it down in one swift blow. Although he hit the creature directly, it scurried to one side, made a whiny noise, and reared back like a small cobra with forelegs. The metallic exoskeleton had protected it from excessive damage. Its large red compound eyes focused on him while it swayed back and forth.
Clark struck with the shovel again, missed, and broke the handle. The creature revealed two fangs that dripped with yellowish ooze. He immediately thought of what had happened to Shad after he was bitten. Poison beads thickened and dropped on the dry volcanic floor.
Rather than trying to kill the thing, Clark ran for help. He didn’t view the situation as cowardly because, after all, if he died, no one in the upper levels of Olympus Mons even knew these things were here. Everyone in the mines could die within hours.
He glanced back over his shoulder. He didn’t have any idea how fast those creatures could move. When he turned to see where he was running, he ran into one of the miners, knocking the man’s pick out of his hand. The pick clanged against a rock, but the miner continued swinging as if he still held it.
Clark grabbed the prisoner by the shirt and shook the man, trying to rattle him loose of the chip’s control. Otherwise the man was about to become food for those insect-like critters. The shaking did nothing to break the chip’s grip on the man’s mind. In desperation, Clark smacked the prisoner’s face hard.
After hitting the man, Clark braced himself for retaliation from the muscled prisoner, but the man never blinked from pain. Clark struck the man again and again, hoping to get some kind of reaction from the miner, but the physical abuse didn’t help, either.
Clark shook the man again. “Come on! Snap out of it!”
The prisoner pried himself free, turned, and went through the motions of mining again.
Tears heated Clark’s eyes because there wasn’t anything he could do to help this man. He was a prisoner, probably guilty of heinous crimes, but Clark’s conscious struggled to accept that he’d have to let the man die. He realized how important Shad’s job had been. Without the CAM-L and the codes to access the commands, the miners continued doing the last thing they had been commanded to do.
He reached down and grabbed the pick. One of the insects snapped its claws at the opening. Instead of running, Clark hoped he might kill the ones that had squeezed through. At least he might prevent the miners from dying before Clark got to Jonas and brought back help.
Clark ran toward the opening. When he reached the wall beneath it, he swung the pick. The metal spike drove through its brain. Its body—now nerve-operated—tumbled through the hole and fell to the floor in front of the drill machine. It hobbled and staggered. A horrid smell drifted from its dying body. Pheromones?
An unnerving clicking sound came from the hole in the wall. Their insect claws chinked together with a disturbing, haunting echo. They were coming for him.
Clark ran.
Years before he had worked with a beekeeper one summer, and he had learned a lot about how certain pheromones worked. With most bees and ants, when disturbed or crushed, they emitted a strong chemical scent that alerted their comrades that they were under attack. These chemicals when released sent the hive into an uncontrollable, aggressive frenzy, making them willing to sacrifice their lives to protect their queen. And with thousands of these creatures on the other side of the wall, they probably had a queen or perhaps even dozens of queens. For him to remain at the wall to kill more would only escalate their maddened desire to kill any human near their hive.
Running away from these Martian insects was Clark’s only choice to survive. He needed to find Jonas and warn him about what was down there. The best they could hope for was to build a wall to block the tunnel. There was the proper equipment to do that, but did they have the time before their miner encampments were invaded by the hive?
29
Derek crawled around the side of the flatbed truck nearest the long black tunnel inside the Phobos rocky remains where he had hidden. He didn’t want to get too far away from the opening since the Chinese robots remained stealthed. Should they attempt to surround him, he figured that he retained enough strength and energy to run back inside.
He braced himself against the side of the truck and attempted to stand. Dizziness overcame him and his stomach became queasy. He braced himself against the truck door and grabbed the door handle to prevent falling.
I need food and water, he thought. Blood sugar’s low. Possible dehydration.
Derek gently pulled the handle and eased the creaky door open. Layers of dust and silt drifted off the door, forming a small pile at his feet. He leaned into the truck cab and reached behind the seat. Like he had expected, some food rations stored inside metal containers were there. He pried the pull-tab up and ripped off the top of the can.
Peaches. Brown but still edible. He climbed upon the seat and drank the juice from the can. From the seat he had a better view of the terrain around him.
Bradbury stood guard in the direct sunlight, but Derek didn’t see Isaac. Bradbury was charging his solar battery packs in the sunlight.
“Bradbury,” he said. “Where is Isaac? Report?”
“Forty meters south.”
“Why?”
“Perimeter search.”
“Are the robots nearby?”
“Negative.”
“Where have they gone?” Derek asked, chewing on the gummy peaches.
“They have vanished, but not by stealth,” Bradbury replied.
“Have they scouted outside your detection range?”
“Affirmative.”
Derek downed the rest of the can. Still chewing, he said, “I don’t know if that’s good or bad.”
“Perhaps a little of both,” Bradbury replied.
“In what way?”
“Good that they’re not here waiting to kill you. Bad because we don’t where they have gone and we might cross paths with them again.”
“You’re right. Knowing their exact location greatly reduced our risks.”
Isaac’s voice came over Bradbury’s transmitter. “Kurt has been destroyed.”
“Destroyed?” Derek and Bradbury asked simultaneously. “How?”
“The Chinese robots,” Isaac replied.
“Perhaps it was suicide,” Bradbury said.
Derek cocked a brow and stared through the window at Bradbury. “Suicide?”
“He has tried it before,” Bradbury replied. “Twice if you count his shower attempt. Or as I like to refer to it, the ‘Short Circuit Syndrome.’ I warned him that the all-liquid diet wasn’t for robots. Of course, Kurt has always insisted on provi
ng everyone wrong.”
“Isaac, what about Ursula and Octavia?” Derek asked, trying to ignore Bradbury.
“They are intact and with me,” Isaac replied.
“Good.”
Remorse tightened Derek’s chest as he thought about Kurt. Although the majority of people viewed them as merely robots, they were much more than that to him. They were family, extensions of himself, and to his amazement, Bradbury and Isaac were evolving into something he had never programmed them to become.
Kurt wasn’t anything like the rest of the robots. If a machine could suffer from depression, Kurt had done exactly that. His actions exhibited all the signs. He was a solitary robot, and for whatever reason, he didn’t fit in with the rest of the group. Kurt even understood that. Perhaps, he had deliberately shied away, despite the fact that Derek had used the same personality platform for all five of his robots. Kurt was somehow mentally deficit or broken, compared to his mechanical siblings and busied himself with isolation, ignoring the learning tasks Derek had programmed and updated.
No matter what data evaluation Derek used to see if the programs had been installed properly within Kurt’s RAM, which they had been, Kurt tended to regard them as GI/GO, and quickly rejected the information. No visible flaw existed inside of Kurt’s computerized AI brain. Quite simply, Kurt’s personality was what the robot had chosen for himself to become.
Octavia and Ursula were capable of performing the same tasks that Isaac and Bradbury could do, but they still hadn’t show any signs of evolving to the next level, and he wondered why. They conversed quite well, but they lacked the witty sarcastic remarks that their male counterparts often displayed. He believed this deficiency was due to him being a male and not knowing how women talked, so he had failed to properly program such feminine formats into them. Or perhaps, they didn’t like him.
The lights on Bradbury’s computer panel lit up. He whirled around and scanned Derek’s vitals. “We must get you back to Olympus Mons. Immediately.”
“I need to get one of the radio towers completed before we leave.”
“Negative. Infection is setting in where you were shot. Your body temperature is too low. You need food and water.”
“There are probably more supplies in the parked vehicles.”
“Come. Stay close to me,” Bradbury said.
“Any sign of the robots?”
“Negative.”
“What’s the status of your battery level?”
“Thirty-four percent.”
“You need to charge more before we start back. Your battery will drain completely, if you don’t.”
“It is sufficient,” Bradbury replied.
Bradbury’s batteries were two-thirds of the way drained due to no sunlight.
“No Bradbury,” Derek said, “they aren’t. To be fully charged you’d need nearly two days of sunlight since we don’t have an electrical charging port.”
“We cannot sacrifice that much time.”
Derek lowered the side truck window and stared at Bradbury. The robot kept his back to Derek and scanned the perimeter for any signs of the Chinese robots. Derek reached into a thickly insulated container and removed a bottle of water. Even with the insulation, the water was partially frozen. He took several sips, but the chilled water made his teeth ache. Once the cold liquid hit his stomach, he winced from a brain freezing sensation.
Thick layers of sand and silt covered the windshield, preventing him from seeing through the front glass. He turned the key in the ignition, but the hybrid motor made no sound. With the solar panels blocked by the recent sandstorm, he really didn’t expect the engine to respond. He popped open another can of peaches and chewed another mouthful. The sugary syrup helped revive his energy levels a little bit, but he was still a long way from total recovery.
Derek held the inside door handle, contemplating what to do next. Since this vehicle wasn’t charged enough to start, he figured the others parked nearby were in similar condition. By the time he got back to his truck, the solar batteries on it might have received enough sunlight to charge somewhat.
“Take shelter!” Isaac said, running toward the flatbed trucks.
A laser shot, striking the side of the truck. Derek pulled the door handle and shoved the door open. He dove to the coarse sandy grit. Peering from beneath the truck, Derek noticed two of the Chinese robots heading in his direction.
Derek rolled, shoved himself to his feet, and staggered a couple of paces, trying to get his balance. Bradbury gripped Derek’s elbow and ran beside him. Isaac took a laser blast in the back, which toppled the robot forward. His hand caught the side of the flatbed, preventing his fall. He turned, catching another blast in his midsection. Smoke and sparks rose. Isaac made several odd shrills before slumping to the ground.
“Isaac!” Derek shouted.
Bradbury pulled Derek around to the front of the truck. “Stay down.”
Derek obeyed. He really wished he had taken his laser weapons with him on this trip. He was helpless. Kurt was gone. Isaac was injured, and the severity uncertain. Derek only knew Bradbury’s location. Ursula and Olivia could have been destroyed for all he knew. And since the Chinese robots were capable of going stealth, he didn’t actually know how many of them were there or where they might reappear.
Bradbury left Derek at the front of the truck.
“Where are you going?” Derek asked.
Bradbury didn’t answer. The robot slipped out of view around the side of the truck. A few minutes later, Bradbury returned with Isaac. He set Isaac down beside Derek.
“Will Isaac live?” Bradbury asked with genuine concern.
The question jarred Derek slightly. His robots didn’t consider themselves machines. Their AI insisted they were more than programmed robots.
Isaac’s front panel was charred. Derek leaned over his robot to inspect the damage. The blast had not melted through the robot’s exoskeleton, so Isaac might have only suffered a brief short-circuiting. Derek found the reset button on Isaac’s mainframe.
Isaac lifted his head and scanned the area around him.
“Welcome back,” Bradbury said.
Isaac looked up at his robotic colleague. “I don’t recall leaving.”
Bradbury extended his hand and helped Isaac stand.
Derek rose to his feet and placed his hand on Bradbury’s back.
“Do you wish to get to safety?” Bradbury asked.
“Where are the Chinese robots?” Derek asked, looking across the terrain.
“No trace of them.”
Derek stood between Isaac and Bradbury. Lasers struck the tarp-covered cargo on the flatbed truck behind them.
Isaac grabbed Derek by the shoulder and pushed him toward the ground.
Derek sought shelter beneath the truck. The atmosphere was much clearer, and the majority of the sandstorm had settled. Visibility was almost at its maximum level. He tapped the side of his visor and searched the area, hoping to find the Chinese robots. They weren’t on the hillside near the row of radio towers that he had been working to connect. He scanned the rugged terrain along the side of the Phobos Crash Site. No sign of them in that direction either.
“Head back into the Phobos fissure,” Bradbury said.
“No,” Derek said, shaking his head. “We need to get back to the truck.”
“The cave is safer,” Isaac said.
“No. If I go back in there, I don’t think I’ll get back out alive. They will block the entrance and wait until I starve to death.”
“How can you be certain?”
“They are like you,” Derek replied. “They have no need of food or water. It’s a waiting game, and they can outwait me. I won’t come out of there alive. Besides, we need to warn the people at Olympus Mons about them.”
Bradbury and Isaac moved to the rear of the truck. Lasers struck the ground where they had stood. Chunks of pebbles and gravels flicked upward. Some of the grit bounced off his visor.
Derek rolled and glan
ced upward on the high towering side of Phobos. Red laser streaks shot downward. At least two of the Chinese robots were visible and knew approximately where he was positioned, trying to keep him pinned down.
“What is their firing range?” Derek asked.
“From what little damage Isaac suffered,” Bradbury said, “my estimate is that we are nearly out of their range. Up close their lasers will slice right through any of us.”
“They’re firing from directly above us. I’m thinking about making a run for those low lying rocks on our west side,” Derek said. “I can use those rocks for cover and possibly move farther out of their range.”
“Be careful,” Bradbury said.
“I will.”
Isaac turned and helped Derek to his feet. “We’ll follow behind you, acting as shields.”
Derek ran, crouched forward. Lasers zipped past his head and some flicked up debris near his feet. But he made it to the low-lying rock wall. A narrow path ran between the wall of rocks and the Phobos mountainous remains. He figured if he followed it, he was safe from more fire from the Chinese robots overhead. There was a good chance that the path was long enough that he might be able to get to his vehicle without the enemy noticing. That gave him valuable time, and it was the only hope that he had left.
30
Steven Matthews sat at the bar inside the Vortex, sipping Irish whiskey. Since he had disguised himself as a guard, everyone else assumed him to be Norm Schrader. But the real Norm was in the mining pits where Matthews was supposed to be working as a prisoner.
While on the red planet, Matthews’ disgust toward Grayson had not mellowed. He still despised the man and remained a step or two ahead of the pompous trillionaire. In the same manner Matthews had injected Magnus with micro nanobots in the Texas prison, he had also self-inoculated the same computerized bots as a precaution should Grayson ever implant a Sleeper Chip in him.
While he had worked for Mr. Grayson, Matthews had become quite privy to Grayson’s schemes and the inhumane technology he was using on his prisoner slaves. Of course, Matthews had hacked into the top secret files of Grayson Enterprises and learned about the chips as well as many other underhanded experiments Grayson planned to incorporate for his future endeavors. So he wasn’t surprised that Grayson would eventually implant a chip into him once Grayson discovered who he actually was.
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