Programmed To Protect (The Tau Cetus Chronicles) (26 page)

“To me!” Theus ordered.

Wyatt rushed to Theus’ side while Ferren covered his other. They watched as the remaining robot soldier turned from his last killing, eyeing them with its empty black eyes, sizing up the situation.

“How do we play this?” Ferren growled, low.

“You’re bleeding,” Wyatt pointed out, glancing at Ferren’s left shoulder. “Let me take the brunt of this.”

“No,” Theus countermanded. “It’s me Carron wants dead. It’s my right to deny him that pleasure.”

Wyatt shook his head. “Sir— ”

“Let’s just see how this goes, shall we?”

There was no more time for strategizing. The final robot was stepping over bodies, making its way determinedly toward them.

Wyatt tensed, and looked at Ferren. “Let’s try to draw its attention above its head. If we can distract it upward, one of us will hopefully be able to get to its damned switch.”

Ferren nodded his agreement. “If it comes straight at us, I’ll be closest to its left side. I’ll have the best shot at it.”

Wyatt waited until the robot was within arm’s reach of them, and then he lifted his hands and waved them high above his head. Theus and Ferren followed suit. The robot’s head tilted up, as if looking for an attack from above, which gave Ferren his opportunity to drop one hand to the machine’s waist, searching for its switch.

He wasn’t fast enough. The robot’s fist came down on Ferren’s forearm, audibly breaking it, and when Ferren doubled over at the pain, the robot’s right knee came up to smash into Ferren’s face. Ferren’s head snapped back on his shoulders, and as he collapsed onto the floor of the dais, Wyatt could see there wasn’t much of his face left.

Fucking hell.

Two against one.

Before Wyatt and Theus had a chance to regroup, the robot reached up to capture their hands in the air. Wyatt desperately tried to jerk out of its grasp but the robot’s grip was too tight. He was caught. And the look on Theus’ face told Wyatt he was trapped as well.

There was no way they’d get out of this alive.

Carron had been watching the action unfold with a rising sense of astonishment. It was incredible that Wyatt had discovered the secret off switch to his robots, and inconceivable that he’d actually been able to deactivate four of them.

Even now, two human men against one indestructible robot were odds highly in Carron’s favor, but with Theus’ life in the balance, Carron wasn’t taking any chances. This day had not gone according to his carefully crafted plan.
Veraine
. He needed his programmer. Carron took a step to the right, but at his first movement, Ginger’s arms wrapped around his waist, holding him firmly in place.

He frowned. “What are you doing, Ginger?”

“I’m containing you, Mr. Carron.”

“
Containing me
? Let me go!”

“No.”

“I
order
you to let me go.”

“No.”

“I am your
creator!
I demand that you let me go.”

“No.”

Struggle as he might, Carron couldn’t break free of her unyielding robotic hold. He threw a desperate glance at his programmer. “Titus!” he shouted, pointing with his chin toward the dais. “Destroy that robot. Theus must die!”

From his vantage point in the end seat of the front row of chairs, Titus Veraine had been assessing and reassessing the fight as it went along. He was just as surprised as Carron must have been that Wyatt and his men had discovered the robots’ off switch, but Veraine was a practical man. He’d carefully positioned himself for just this scenario: to be on the winning side, no matter which way this fight went.

But,
fucking hell
, he hadn’t expected that he, Titus Veraine, would have the power to determine the winning side.

Did he want it to be Anson Carron? If Titus destroyed the robot, killing Theus and Wyatt along with it, Titus would always be the number two man under Anson Carron’s rule. On the other hand, if Titus didn’t destroy the robot and Theus somehow survived this, Titus would be in a position to usurp Carron and become Theus’ most powerful weapons provider, because Titus would make sure the premier knew Titus had spared his life.

Which outcome did he prefer? A sure number two with limited power, or a potential number one with more power than he’d ever hoped to achieve?

His hand hovered over the computer key.

Wyatt felt his left wrist snap. He shouted in pain, even though he tried to grit his teeth against it. “Ginger!” he yelled, wanting her to know that her name would be the last word on his lips, her face his last thought. As the robot used its superhuman strength to force both Wyatt and Theus inexorably to their knees, Wyatt felt his vision swim and darken. His life was nearly over, but he was glad he’d given it in Tau Cetus’ service.

There was a howl from the direction where Anson Carron was standing, which Wyatt’s fading hearing interpreted as a victory whoop.

Bastard.
At least Wyatt would die knowing Carron would get his due when the surviving four Council members joined forces to defeat him.

The robot soldier still grasped Wyatt and Theus’ hands above their heads, and now it forced them unnaturally backwards, threatening to pop Wyatt’s arms right out of their sockets. The excruciating pain made time slow to a crawl.

And then time stopped. Or, rather, the robot soldier stopped. Wyatt struggled to breathe, to remain conscious, as he looked up from his contorted position toward the robot’s face. The soldier had frozen in place, its death grip still unyielding, but no longer actively crushing him and Theus.

Wyatt’s disbelieving gaze slid down the robot’s body to where a single finger was pressed against its left side. Wyatt blinked the sweat from his eyes as he followed that finger down to a hand, then down an arm, until Ginger’s face came into view.

It took a moment for his brain to understand what he was seeing.

She was standing a foot below the dais, reaching up to the robot soldier’s off switch. She’d deactivated it.

Wyatt’s head skewed back toward Anson Carron. Carron was on his hands and knees, still howling softly, but now Wyatt recognized the sound as one of pain, not victory. Had Ginger kneed him in the balls? Wyatt had asked her to contain Carron; was this the way she’d done it in order to have the chance to help him and Theus?

Wyatt wanted to laugh hysterically. He was going to live after all. And then his head jerked around to check on Theus. Wyatt blinked at the look on the premier’s face.

Theus was rigid. But it wasn’t with pain or fear, it was with fury.

“The machines must be destroyed,” he rasped, looking directly at Ginger. “They’re too dangerous. They must be destroyed. All of them.”

Chapter Fourteen

Two hours.
It had been two hours since the melee in the Council chambers had ended.

Carron and Veraine had been hauled off to a security chamber to await Theus’ justice, the bodies of Theus’ dead men had been carefully removed, and the medics who’d responded to the massacre had applied a makeshift splint to Wyatt’s left wrist.

Wyatt could barely move his arms after Carron’s robot soldier had nearly wrenched them from their sockets. They ached like hell, but he had refused to let the medics take him away for more thorough treatment. He couldn’t risk leaving Theus’ side.

The machines must be destroyed.

Theus had been looking directly at Ginger when he’d issued that chilling indictment, but Wyatt would
not
let the premier harm his Beautiful Doll.

She was so much more than just a machine.

Wyatt glanced around. He, Theus and Ginger were the only ones remaining in the hollow hall of death that the High Council chambers had become. That is, if you didn’t count Carron’s five robot soldiers, all silenced in various stages of attack. Theus’ men had not yet removed them.

“Fourteen dead.”
Theus was seated in his chair on the dais. In fact, Theus had retreated to that chair just as soon as Ginger had managed to extricate Wyatt and then the premier from the death grip of Carron’s robot soldier. Miraculously, Theus had not been injured, and he’d refused all medical attention as well, declining to move from his chair. Wyatt could well imagine that the familiar cathedra represented safety for Theus. Hell, by the sound of his voice, the premier was in shock.

“Fourteen dead. So easily. And so senselessly.”

“I know, sir.” Wyatt came to stand in front of the dais, looking up at the premier. Ginger stood maybe three or four feet away from him, but Wyatt waved a hand, signaling her to keep that distance. He didn’t want to draw Theus’ attention to her, considering his current frame of mind regarding the robots. “What are your plans for Carron and Veraine?”

Theus’ black eyes turned to stone. “Anson Carron is a traitor and will be executed as such. Just as soon as I get some information I need from him.”

“Information?”

“About a certain diamond.”

Ah. Wyatt recalled that Theus had said Carron had stolen a ten carat jewel from Theus, but why it was so important to the premier, Wyatt had no idea. “And his programmer, Titus Veraine?”

“I haven’t made a decision about him yet.”

Wyatt saw that as his opportunity. “Sir, the robots are dangerous, I agree. But they
can
be controlled. They can still be a powerful asset for the High Council. You just need someone in charge of them you can trust.”

“And you think Veraine is that person?”

Wyatt hesitated, then looked at his feet. “In all honesty, no. He was willing to betray Carron for a chance to replace him as your weapons provider. We could never put complete faith in him.”

Even now, Wyatt distinctly remembered how Veraine had pleaded with him a few minutes ago as he’d been dragged away by Theus’ security. He’d claimed he’d
helped
Theus, saved his life by disobeying Carron’s order to activate the self-destruct sequence in the robot that held Theus and Wyatt captive.

Wyatt grimaced. Titus Veraine was a mercenary. He would serve whichever side served him best. He was not to be trusted.

“Maybe we can find someone else.” Wyatt’s brain conjured up the image of that fop, Loris Rhean. Surely
he
wouldn’t have delusions of grandeur, as Carron and Veraine did. “I still think the robots are a valuable resource.”

Theus’ head came up, and his gaze settled on Ginger before shifting back to Wyatt. He arched one eyebrow. “You claim yours is sentient. So then how would we possibly control her? No. It’s too dangerous. They must be destroyed.”

Wyatt set his jaw. “Sir, it’s true that Ginger is sentient. But look at what that self-awareness led her to: loyalty to you. She’s more than proven it. The High Council would not have survived this assassination attempt if it hadn’t been for her. Your men would not have learned how to shut down two of those robot assassins without Ginger allowing them to practice on her. You and I would not be alive right now if Ginger hadn’t neutralized the robot that held us.
She saved your life.”

“I understand your arguments, agent Wyatt. Intellectually, I do. But as you can imagine, I’m more than a little disturbed by what happened here today.”

“Absolutely, sir. But also consider this… Ginger is sentient only because of an experimental program Veraine ran on her. If we destroy all non-essential programs at Carron’s factory that don’t deal directly with the machines’ creation and maintenance, there should be no chance of another robot gaining sentience.”

“Should
be no chance? Or
will
be no chance?”

Wyatt glanced at Ginger. “I don’t know what the future holds, sir. But I
do
know that since Anson Carron converted all the Beautiful Dolls into robot soldiers, Ginger is the last of her kind. She’s sentient.
Alive.
That makes her as unique an individual as any citizen of Tau Cetus. You wouldn’t condemn one of
them
to death, especially not after they’d saved your life.”

Theus stared at him with his sharp black gaze, and Wyatt struggled to maintain eye contact. He’d just questioned the premier’s morals. Maybe not the smartest thing to do after Ginger’s fellow robots had nearly killed Theus, but Wyatt was determined to use all his powers of persuasion to save his love.

Theus’ face was a granite mask, and Wyatt was reminded again of the chess master Theus was, coldly thinking, strategizing, running scenarios in his head. Wyatt knew all that, but he was hoping that the man underneath the mastermind would win out.

The longer the silence stretched, however, the more Wyatt could feel sweat pool under his armpits. Theus could be capricious. There was no predicting his decision.

After an endless minute, Theus finally made a small sound, which Wyatt hoped was a sign of concession.

“You should have been a law agent and not a police agent,” Theus declared tightly. “Your logic is very persuasive.” He paused, then blew out a breath. “All right. I agree. I will let Ginger live.”

Wyatt blinked in relief. He felt like the weight of the world had just been lifted from his shoulders. Hell, considering what had happened in this room a few hours ago, it
had
. Literally. He gave Theus a grateful grin. “That’s good, sir, because I love her.”