by S. H. Jucha
“The tower, Homsaff,” Simlan suggested, pointing to the enormous structure that lay on its side.
“Up the tower. Get off the ice,” Homsaff yelled, as the warriors returned.
It was a difficult climb for the Dischnya. The angled struts didn’t provide a good grip. But the oncoming bots provided plenty of motivation to keep climbing.
The final warrior to leave the ground stopped to eliminate a bot closing in on him.
“Climb! Don’t fire!” Simlan ordered. He had no doubt their power packs were low. He’d seen many of the warriors switch to their backup units earlier.
Homsaff stopped when she figured they were far enough above the ground. The Dischnya watched several types of bots attempt to follow them up the fallen tower, but none seemed to possess the right type of appendages to grip the struts and haul their bodies up.
Simlan was about to say that he thought they were safe, when the sound of crushing metal reached them. First one and then another heavy construction bot rounded the Dischnya’s first barrier. Their treads drove them quickly across the glassy ice.
Homsaff glanced at the end of the tower. It would allow them to get a few more meters off the ground, but one look at the variety of heavy bots told her that it was useless to try. The bots carried an assortment of long appendages, any number of which could reach them.
“Tighten your beams,” Simlan ordered. “Target the treads. Wait until they’re close, and make sure of your shots.”
The warriors did their best to stop the advance of the construction bots. They would destroy one bot’s ability to move, and the others would go around it. When the number of damaged bots created a dam of sorts, they were pushed out of the way. The slick surface made it easy to slide them aside.
One by one, the warriors ran their power packs empty. Homsaff and Simlan were the last to expend their rifles’ charges.
“And we don’t even have a minelette to take them with us,” Homsaff lamented, as a bot with a bucket on an extended arm approached them. It could easily knock a warrior off the tower. Glancing down, she saw a host of small and medium bots waiting for them. Each warrior knocked from his hold would be fodder for their sharp appendages.
The bucket bot approached the tower. Its arm ratcheted out, intending to target the lowest warrior, the one closest to the surface. The bots below clustered under him, expecting his fall.
The bot swung the arm aside and adjusted its height. The warrior, clinging desperately to his section of struts, snarled at his enemy. The arm swung at the warrior. Then the bot’s bucket and half its arm dropped to the surface. Immediately afterwards, the heavy bot was surgically cut to pieces.
“Stand by to board,” the Dischnya heard a voice call from above.
Homsaff and the warriors craned their necks to see Miranda and Myron standing on the rear ramp of a cargo shuttle.
The traveler lowered until the ramp was a meter away from Homsaff. Miranda reached a hand to her and hauled her up, as if she was a pup and not a full-grown queen. Homsaff tried to communicate with Miranda, but she was imperiously waved to the back of the traveler. Homsaff was livid at the dismissal.
Simlan, who had been beside her, was the next one snatched from the tower. He recognized Homsaff’s mood, her erect tail signaling anger. When he stood beside her, he saw that she stared hotly at Miranda. Simlan touched Homsaff’s arm and said urgently, “She’s a SADE, Homsaff. Who would know better what to do?”
Homsaff and Simlan moved to the back of the shuttle. They watched as Miranda plucked their warriors, one by one, from the tower.
When the Dischnya who’d climbed the tower were aboard the shuttle, Homsaff started to speak to Miranda, but the SADE took one step and dropped off the shuttle. Homsaff hurried to the ramp’s end and looked down.
Miranda wore her Frederica avatar, complete with shoulder-mounted weapons and extra power packs. The SADE waded through the bots that came her way. Her weapons pivoted in circles, eliminating her adversaries in all directions. She plowed a path toward Hessan’s last perch, which mitigated Homsaff’s anger and raised her hopes.
Telemetry had been passed from Descartes’ Tridents to Miranda’s shuttles. The Tridents were able to close on Toral, with updates from the sisters. The bot war usurped the majority of Artifice’s attention. It had little focus left for the Tridents. Under those circumstances, the sisters were able to handle Artifice’s limited transmissions.
The data that Miranda and Myron received from the Tridents allowed them to know the location of each warrior — those still fighting and the fallen. In one case, it was the flare of a plasma blast that had indicated the place of a fallen warrior.
Miranda reached the blown-down tower. She’d seen Hessan jump. The truncated tower was tipped over, taking its solid base with it. She attempted to lever the tower up, but it was too much mass. She replayed the images of Hessan’s leap, calculated the height of the platforms, and Hessan’s landing position.
The tower was nearly intact. Miranda paced off the estimated distance. There, under a twisted mass of struts, lay Hessan. The destroyed body of a medium-sized bot had taken the impact of the struts, which would have crushed Hessan. Miranda ripped off struts until she reached the fallen warrior. She scooped him up and headed for the open lane that had been cleared by Hessan’s minelette.
The pilot of the cargo shuttle descended to the surface and dropped the ramp.
The crew shoved the stretcher to the end of the ramp. Miranda gently deposited Hessan’s body on it and then stepped clear of the ramp. Connecting to the pilot, the crew, and linking to Pia, Miranda sent,
As soon as the crew acknowledged that the stretcher was secure, the pilot raised the ramp and shot upward, headed for space. The Freedom was close. Cordelia had kept pace with Descartes’ Tridents. Miriamal, the city-ship’s sister also had no difficulty handling Artifice’s weak signals. Once the towers were down, the transmissions had ceased.
Homsaff hurried to the pilot’s cabin. “What now?” she asked.
“We’re inbound to the Freedom, Homsaff,” the pilot replied. “The city-ship is close.”
Homsaff was relieved to know that her warriors were a priority, but it irked her that she didn’t know this in real time, as every Omnian with an implant or comm knew. We’ll speak of this, Alex, she thought. The Dischnya have proven worthy of equality with all Omnians. She huffed once and went to check on Hessan’s condition.
Miranda hailed one of the travelers from the other Trident squadron, which had eliminated the planet’s final two comm platforms. She threaded her way across the icy surface toward the Dischnya barrier compound, eliminating all manner of bots.
When a fighter pilot indicated she was descending to Miranda’s position, the SADE halted her progress and cleared a wide area. The port hatch opened, as the traveler hovered, and Miranda stepped aboard. Then the pilot overflew the barrier.
In the center of the barrier ring, two wounded warriors fiercely defended the pallets from small bots, which had scaled the enormous circle of twisted and melted material after it had cooled.
Miranda signaled the pilot, who dropped lower, and she jumped out of the hatch, crushing a bot with her weight. She added her fire support to the warriors. As soon as she could, Miranda hauled the pallets out of the center of the ring, making room for the pilot to land.
Crew leapt out of the fighter’s hatch and engaged in the fight. When the bot attack was turned, Miranda helped the wounded warriors into the traveler. Then the crew climbed aboard the ship, and Miranda ordered the pilot to execute an emergency medical flight, adding Pia in the comm loop. She chose to stay behind again.
Next, Miranda ordered a cargo shuttle to her location. While she waited, she had to occasionally eliminate small bots, scurrying to attack her. Multiple times, she attempted to contact the bots to see if she could remove Artifice’s directives. She det
ected their comm signals, but she was never able to make any further progress.
The cargo traveler landed, and Miranda guarded the crew members, while they loaded the Dischnya pallets. She dismissed that ship and called in the Chistorlan shuttle, while she eliminated more small bots. The shuttle’s ramp wasn’t fully extended nor was the vessel close to the surface when Miranda launched herself from below and landed inside the ship.
The travelers descended and spread out. With two beam shots each, the bot army was turned into vapor or slag depending on the bot’s size. Then a fighter landed, dispersed crew with plasma rifles, and the remaining bots, surrounding the towers, were systematically removed.
Travelers stayed on overwatch. Bots continued to arrive from all points south of Artifice’s position, and they had to be stopped. The sisters worked on a means of communicating to the bots and removing Artifice’s directives, but they had no more success than Miranda.
-34-
The Challenge
Alex boarded a fighter, with several other individuals in tow. Franz piloted. The fighter launched from the Freedom and headed for Toral. Their ship passed the two inbound travelers with the wounded Dischnya.
Alex was aware of the Dischnya’s cost: twenty had entered the fray; five were reported dead; and eight were wounded, Hessan critically so. His traveler rendezvoused with the Chistorlan shuttle. There was a slight delay, while the area’s hot metal cooled. Fortunately, a small front was coalescing and delivering colder air.
The last of the Trident force, which had been on the periphery and executed the probes, had joined the small commands, which held the lesser fleets at bay.
When the metal was at a safe temperature and the air settled, several travelers from the Freedom landed. Pairs of crew members armed with plasma rifles patrolled the area. The occasional small bot still popped out from piles of slush at approaching footsteps.
Meanwhile, Mickey and his engineering teams unpacked material from cargo shuttles and built a temporary shelter for the Chistorlans and Herrick. When the shelter was supplied with power and heat, techs moved the remaining case, which contained Herrick, into it.
SADEs spliced comm cables from the primary tower to the shelter. They refrained from using nanites for the splice on the off chance that Artifice could gain that technology.
The Chistorlans busied themselves setting up the operation for Herrick to challenge Artifice. The entire enterprise depended on the outcome of the Chistorlans’ champion.
Tittra was beside himself with anxiety, and he double-checked every element of the setup. His programmers and techs tolerated his intrusiveness. They knew what was at stake.
“We’re ready,” Tittra announced, when the preparations were complete.
“It’s your show,” Alex replied, which Julien translated for him as, “You may begin when you wish.”
Tittra signaled a tech, who completed the comm connection. Instantly, the fluid within Herrick bubbled with the increased demand on its processing. Then the oxygen flow became a furious stream, and Tittra looked with concern at the console operator.
The operator couldn’t understand the data he was witnessing that scrolled up on his screen. It was unlike anything he’d seen, even though he’d monitored tens of thousands of challenges within the cavern.
Almost as quickly as it began, the enhanced activity within Herrick’s case eased. The Chistorlans were jubilant. The glow from Herrick’s case was still present.
“Query Herrick’s case,” Tittra demanded excitedly.
The console operator tapped away on his panel, entering several different sequences. “No response,” he replied.
“Impossible,” Tittra snapped, “Try again.”
The operator queried Herrick in multiple ways. Finally, he queried its operating parameters. His were simple requests. However, the results were always the same. There was no response.
Finally, text flowed across the operator’s monitor. The young male turned to Tittra. His wide mouth hung open.
“That’s unexpected,” Julien said, examining the text.
“What’s it say?” Alex asked.
“I’m Artifice. I wish to speak with Alex,” Julien replied.
“Herrick lost,” Tittra lamented.
Alex regarded the orange glow of Herrick’s case. Artifice had lost its antennas but found a replacement outlet with the Chistorlan entity.
“Is there an external comm link from Herrick’s case?” Alex asked.
“Negative,” Julien replied.
“Let’s keep it that way,” Alex said quietly. He regarded Tittra, who sat on a portable stool. The little Chistorlan was despondent. He appeared as if he’d lost a child and maybe he had. His life’s work had proven to be a failure.
Alex’s arms were folded across his chest, and his feet were braced. He brought his hand up to stroke his chin. “Plan B,” he said.
“I would agree, as soon as you share the details of this remarkable plan,” Julien quipped. His floppy, jacquard cap topped with a small ball appeared on his head.
The first time Alex had seen this particular bit of haberdashery, he’d checked with Renée to see if she knew its origin.
Renée, who’d absorbed more of the vid library than any other human, had laughed, “It’s a fool’s cap for a jester,” she’d replied. When Alex failed to comprehend the explanation, she explained, “Monarchs often needed a foil. They needed someone to say things to individuals who were presented in the royal court, which they couldn’t otherwise impart. The jester could get away with playing the part of a fool. And often the jesters would turn their sharp wits on their monarchs.”
Alex ignored Julien’s jab and focused on the predicament. The Omnians had lost personnel and ships to save the Chistorlans. The repayment was supposed to be a digital champion, which defeated Artifice.
“We can’t leave Artifice down there,” Alex reasoned out loud. “That’s a liability neither we nor the federacy can afford. We’re going to have to dig it out. Where are the Toralians, Julien?”
“Their fleet continued inward, as you know,” Julien replied. “They’ve reached Toral’s orbit and taken up stations around the planet. On advice from us, they remain in their ships. The bots present a danger to every foreign entity, which prevents the Toralians from landing their shuttles.”
“Julien, connect me to Miriamelle and ask for Grand Commander Sargut,” Alex requested.
“Miriamelle tells me that Artifice’s transmissions have ceased, Alex. Have we won?” Sargut asked.
“That’s not all bad tidings, Alex,” Sargut replied.
“We’ve lost many more Toralians in pursuit of Artifice’s directives,” Sargut replied. “From now on, it will be our choice how we risk our citizens and not that entity’s.”
“What are your intentions, regarding Artifice?” Suntred asked.
“What’s it saying?” Suntred asked.
“Will you speak with it?” Suntred asked.
Alex and Julien heard the unmistakable whistles of mirth from Sargut, Suntred, and some of the bridge crew.
“What’s your plan, Alex?” Sargut asked.
“We’ve long searched for that data,” Sargut replied. “Some believe it’s been lost, but most believe that Artifice deleted all plans and references to that information. I can tell you one important aspect about Artifice’s access, Alex. The entity’s creators feared the possibility of Artifice becoming a dominant aspect in their society, and they took steps to limit it.”
“The first, you know,” Sargut replied. “They buried Artifice so that it was denied an easy route to mobility. Then they created a series of protective measures to prevent access to it.”
“Unknown, Alex,” Sargut replied. “However, Artifice’s offer to you of several worlds in exchange for providing it mobility indicates that no one or nothing has been successful in penetrating the creators’ protective measures.”
“Before you go, Alex, we would appreciate an update on the fleets,” Sargut requested.
“Understood, Alex, I’ll pass on the messages to the commanders of the elder fleets. Please keep us informed,” Sargut said, and then Miriamelle closed the connection.
“Millennia of ice accumulation and millions of tons of bot debris cover Artifice’s surrounds,” Julien commented. “If Artifice’s creators were that fearful of it, they might have buried the entrance anywhere.”
“Problem, Alex?” Mickey asked, as he entered the shelter and opened his environment suit helmet.