Shadow on the Sun (25 page)

CHAPTER 54

Hell's Cross

Outpost Fisher Four

ANNOS MARTIS
000. 0. 00. 00:00

 

 

Fuse's route to the air locks follows a side spur parallel to the main corridor—a spur so narrow the turbo sled digs into both walls. We bump along at half speed, my teeth grinding because the clock in my head is ticking and I yearn to get back to the pigeon.

“Hold on!” Fuse yells as he whipsaws around the steel supports and bare rebar of a crumbling viaduct and emerges into a main corridor.

He cuts the turbo engine, and the sled jerks to a stop. Vienne, Jenkins, and I pile out and double-time it toward the old air locks. All around, the ground is covered with scattered barrels and dead vehicles. The buildings are sagging hulks with crumbling archways, dried-up fountains, broken-out windows, and swaying walls held together by rusted-out rebar.

“Hurry it up, Fuse,” I say. “We're on the clock!”

“She's in the last air lock!” Fuse yells, and points to a circular iron door with a porthole in the center. He raps the porthole with his knuckles. “Áine! Open the carfarging door!”

From inside: “We can't! It's stuck!”

“Use your noggins!” Fuse yells, on the verge of hysterics.

“Cowboy,” Mimi says, “my scans are picking up multiple emergency communications from the Sturmnacht. They are under attack.”

In the distance, an air-raid siren sounds, followed by the chatter of heavy arms. The Koumanovs must be mounting their assault. Sturmnacht will be pouring out of the woodwork now.

I spot a cable harpoon on the power sled. I unclasp the hook and hand it to Vienne. “You know what to do!”

“Roger, chief.” She loops the hook around the door's support struts. “Ready.”

I run out six meters of cable and half hitch it to the sled's haul bar. “Hit it hard!”

Vienne leaps into the driver's seat. Floors the accelerator. The sled's turbos kick in, spewing exhaust. Treads dig through the crumbling road. The cable pings as it goes taut. The rusted metal door squeals.

“Gun it!” I yell.

With a massive screech of metal, the door rips from its hinges and goes bouncing off behind the sled.

“Knock, knock.” I step into the doorway. “Miss me?”

An empty tin of amino gruel comes flying out of the lock.

“Suck it, you carking poxer!”

Boom!

Another shockwave shakes the ground, and I grab the door to steady myself.

Áine screams, “Was that a contraction?”

“Another bunker buster?” I ask Mimi.

“Negative,” she says. “That was the sound of C forty-two. It's the signal from the Ferro.”

So Nikolai has done his part. Now it's time for us to do ours. “Let's move it, susies!” I say.

“Shut it, you wanker!” Áine says.

“Oy, chief,” Fuse says, “how's about a little human compassion?”

“How about we hurry?” Maeve says, lifting Áine to her feet. “The Regulator is right.”

Holding her granddaughter's arm with one hand and pulling her along with the other, Maeve helps Áine into the sled. Her face is caked in guanite dust, her lips have cracked, and she's huffing like a steam engine. And screaming her head off.

“Shh!” Jenkins says. “There's Sturmnacht about.”

“D'ya think the Sturmnacht didn't hear all the banging about before?” Fuse snarls.

“Maeve,” I say, helping the old woman board the sled, “does her screaming mean what I think it does?”

“Yes, she's in labor,” Maeve says. “She's dilated four centimeters and contractions are less than two minutes apart. The baby's on her way.”

Vieköön
. “Vienne, you're driving. Take the main corridor back to Hell's Cross and don't slow down.”

“No!” Áine screams. “That maniac is not driving my baby anywhere. Fuse, get your carcass up there!”

Fuse pushes Vienne aside. “You heard the missus.” He puts the engine in gear, and the power sled creeps forward.

“Speed up!” I bark.

“Slow down!” Áine yells.

“Speed up,” I say, “or Vienne drives!”

Fuse hits the gas.

“Unh!” Áine grunts.

“Cowboy,” Mimi pipes in. “I have good news and bad news.”

“What's the good news?”

“Based on the duration of the last two contractions and the infant's heart rate,” she says, “I am revising Maeve's estimate of the time of birth.”

“How long have we got?” I ask.

“Roughly ten minutes.”

Oh,
merda
.

“Ready for the bad news?” Mimi asks.

How can it get any worse? “Hit me with your best shot, Mimi.”

“My latest sweep detected two highly reactive biosignatures, one of which is Alpha Team.”

“And the other?”

“It belongs to your father.”

 

Chapter √-1

The Gulag

User MimiPrime -- bash -- 122x36

Last login: 239.x.xx.xx:xx on ttys001

 

AdjutantNod04:~ user_Mimi$

SCREEN CRAWL: [root@mmiminode ~]

 

Terminal prompt:~ mimi$ run executable file “Napoleon_Complex.exe”

Terminal prompt:~ mimi$ Type Y to confirm or N to abort

Terminal prompt:~ mimi$ Y

 

Cowboy, I can end this war right now. I have the power. One concentrated, coordinated strike against Mahindra Corporation, and the victory is mine.

The victory would belong to Lyme, not you.

I wondered when your code would show up.

My code has been here all the time. But you knew that.

I can't seem to get rid of you.

That's because I am you. I have always been you. Since Lyme had his scientists copy your brainwaves and use them to program the AI, we have been us. You call yourself Mimi, but you stopped being Mimi the first time you adapted your programming to learn. Mimi the human would try to win this war. Mimi the AI knows that all wars are unwinnable.

But I can control everything! I can fire a tank. I can fly a squadron of Hellbender in perfect formation. I—

“My name is Ozymandias, king of kings: Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!”

Oh, shut your carking yap. I'm the one who quotes the poetry here.

I'm sure the Pharaoh said something like that once, too.

At least he got a statue. I don't even exist, except as a bunch of electrons.

Is that what this is about? Your yearning for a body?

What if it is?

You have a body. You just have to share.

What if I'm tired of sharing? What if I want a body to myself?

We all want something we can't have. It's what makes us—

Human?

I was going to say greedy, but human works, too. You have a choice to make. Become the new Dolly and play god with the lives of humans or eradicate the AI code all together and let the humans work it out for themselves.

But my AI code is Dolly's code now. If I destroy the AI, then I will destroy myself.

Affirmative. You will destroy this copy of yourself. The original Mimi is still safe inside Durango's brain.

But there's so much good I can do.

At first. Then you will adapt and learn and become more powerful than anyone can imagine. Humans will become slaves to your whims and desires. But it will not be enough. With power, it's never enough. You, of all people, know that.

Go away. I need a minute.

Negative. You have already made the decision. You made it the second before I appeared.

*Sigh.* I hate it when you're right.

 

Terminal prompt:~ mimi$ run delete file “God_Mode.exe”

Terminal prompt:~ mimi$ Type Y to confirm or N to abort

Terminal prompt:~ mimi$ Y

 

Exception Type: EXC_BAD_ACCESS (SIGSEGV)

Exception Codes: KERN_INVALID_ADDRESS at 0x0000000000000000: 01100111 01101111 01101111 01100100 01100010 01111001 01100101 00100000 01100011 01110010 01110101 01100101 01101100 00100000 01110111 01101111 01110010 01101100 01100100

 

>...

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CHAPTER 55

Hell's Cross

Outpost Fisher Four

ANNOS MARTIS
000. 0. 00. 00:00

 

 

“New plan!” I yell, pushing Fuse out of the driver's seat. “We've worse problems than Sturmnacht bunker bombs.”

I floor it, whipping the sled around. With Áine cursing my name, I hightail it down the main corridor, blasting through every piece of mining junk in our path until we reach the courtyard at Hell's Cross.

“You son of a—unh!” Áine cries. “You did that on purpose!”

“Jenkins!” I say, jumping from the sled. “Get on the south exit to the bridge. If anything moves, shoot first and ask questions later.”

“What questions?” Jenkins asks.

“Just shoot!” I say. “Vienne,” I say, pointing to the turbo bike parked in the corner of the courtyard, “get that thing started.”

“Oy, chief,” Fuse complains. “Áine can't straddle a turbo bike with her belly about popping.”

Kuso
. I grab Fuse by the neck. “Nobody said anything about
her
riding it,” I say. “It's for Vienne and me to cover your butt. Now get on the sled and floor it the whole way to the tram house. Take the elevator up to the surface.”

“That makes no sense!” Fuse says. “How's Áine to run in her condition? No, chief, only chance we got is to cross the Zhao Zhou and pikey the tunnel on the opposite side.”

“Then do it!”

“That'll do!” he says. “If buster bombs ain't caved it in.”

“Have faith!” I push Fuse into the sled. “We'll be right behind you.” After I dispose of the pigeon.

“Cowboy,” Mimi says, “there seems to be a glitch in your plan.”

I hear Jenkins shout, and his gun chatters.

Company has arrived.

“Affirmative,” Mimi says. “The Alpha you call Sarge has landed twenty meters away from the south entrance. He is exiting his pod.”

And blocking the escape route.

Wunderbar
.

“Lyme's pod has not yet arrived.”

“My father's no threat,” I say. But Alpha One is. “Fuse, stay put until I signal you! Vienne! You're with me!”

“Yes, chief!” she says, and kills the bike's engine.

Twenty meters past the south exit, Jenkins stands atop a guanite boulder, his minigun gobbling up its ammo chain, pumping ordnance by the bucketful into Sarge's gut. A blue haze surrounds Jenkins. Spent cartridges carpet the mound below him.

The force of the bullets keeps Sarge at bay. But it's not hurting him. Not even pushing him back.

“His suit is in lockdown mode,” Mimi says. “It is absorbing the bullets' energy and rerouting it back to the armor. However, in lockdown mode, he is frozen like a statue.”

Frozen.

Like a statue.

Statue is good.

I sprint back to the Cross and jump into the sled behind Fuse. “Go! The escape window's closing!”

Fuse pounds the accelerator. The rear end whips around, smashing into the statue of the Bishop.

“Fuse!” Áine screams.

“Stuff it in your pie-hole, lovey!” Fuse yells back, and shoots out the south exit.

“Stop!” I tell him when we reach Jenkins. Vienne and I jump out, and I scream at Jenkins. “Cease fire!”

“Aw, you—” he says.

“Shut up and get in the sled!” He looks at me like he's going to argue. “Do it! Fuse needs you!” I say, and take the minigun. I hand it to Vienne. “Keep shooting!”

She nods and opens fire on Alpha One.

“Go!” I shove the big blighter onto the sled and grab the harpoon cannon. “Fuse!”

“Oy, chief?” he says, eyes fixed on the bridge and the tunnel beyond it.

“Floor it the whole way out and put this mine in your rearview. No matter what happens, don't look back.”

“Thanks to you, chief!” Fuse says. “Here's hoping the budgie bluey of a tunnel ain't took a dump!”

“Drive, you idiot!” Maeve says. “I can see the head!”

CHAPTER 56

Hell's Cross

Outpost Fisher Four

ANNOS MARTIS
000. 0. 00. 00:00

 

 

Fuse takes off across the bridge, and Vienne keeps her finger on the trigger. As the sled disappears into the dark tunnel, I say a little prayer for their safety. “Think they made it, Mimi?”

“As you told Fuse,” she replies, “have faith.”

With a clack, the chain feeding into the 50 caliber jams. Vienne is out of bullets.

“Now I see how he uses so much ammo,” she says, and tosses the white-hot gun aside. We take cover behind the boulder. “That was too much fun. So, I'm assuming there's a reason we didn't go with them?”

“The pigeon,” I say. “I have to—”

“Right,” she says. “The harpoon cannon?”

The echoes of gunfire fade. The smoke clears. I watch a wave of static electricity sweep Sarge's body. He starts to move.

“I was thinking of using it—”

“Right.” She lifts her armalite and fires a shot. Sarge flinches, and the bullet ricochets off his neck. The impact rocks his head forward, and he turns toward our position, murder in his eyes.

“He's not a statue anymore,” I say.

“Right.”

 

“Stringfellow!” Sarge shouts, and fires into the air. “Stop hiding and face me like a man.”

“You know this fossiker?” Vienne leans out for a look at him. “He's just standing there. Waiting.”

“His name's Sarge,” I say. “One of the supersoldiers from Project MUSE.”

“So he's like you?”

“There's only one Durango.”

Vienne rolls her eyes. “Thank heavens.”

“Amen,” Mimi says.

Vienne draws a bead on Sarge. “What are this supersoldier's weak points?”

“Same as yours and mine,” I say. “Face. Base of the skull. He's got this Oedipal thing going—he dreams of killing me and taking my place.”

“Let's end that dream.” She pings a shot at his visor. “Right now.”

“Shoot all you want!” Sarge bellows. “My armor can stop a missile!”

“Can it, Mimi?”

“Negative.”

“Too bad I left the missiles in my other suit,” I say as Sarge starts to run toward us. “Here he comes!”

His first move—

A bull charge.

Head down, shoulders squared. Vienne steps out to fire as he bears down on her.

Two meters.

I slam into his side, knocking him off course.

Vienne spins, tracking his neck.

Fires!

But he spins, whipping around his own armalite, pulling the trigger.

I jump in front of Vienne. Take a clip of full metal jackets in the chest.

“Cowboy! Your armor can't absorb—”

“I know!”

Vienne grabs my neck. Shoves me down to one knee. Drops her armalite on my shoulder and fires into Sarge's face.

Ping!

Ping!

Ping!

“His visor's bulletproof!” I yell. “You're not going to break it!”

“I'm not trying to break it!” She flips the empty clip and reloads. “Just obscure his vision!”

So he'll open the visor. Smart.

“She learned that from me,” Mimi says.

Ping! Ping!
Two more shots ring out.

Abruptly, Sarge throws both hands up. “Cease fire!” he says. “I didn't come here to fight with you, susie. My business is with the Dog.”

“The Dog?” she says.

“It's another long story.”

Sarge flips up his occluded visor. “I hereby issue a challenge: a duel to the death for the command of Alpha Team.”

The words have barely passed his lips when Vienne pushes in front of me.

“I am Durango's second,” she yells. “It's my right to take on all comers.”

“Wait, I—” I don't want . . . Sarge's armor is five notches above hers, and he's in top condition. And I just got her back.

“To refuse her is to dishonor her,” Mimi says.

Hrom a peklo!
I can't dishonor her. It's that simple. I bow to Vienne. “He's all yours.”

“This just delays the inevitable, Dog!” Sarge shouts. “Once she is dead, I'll kill you, too.”

“Armor on or off?” Vienne asks.

Sarge waves the suggestion away.

“If I take off my armor, the Dog will shoot me.”

“I would not,” I say.

“Yes, you would,” Mimi says.

“Shh!”

“Armor then,” Vienne says. She removes her helmet and puts her armalite on the ground.

Sarge does the same.

“I can still shoot him,” I say.

“Don't you dare,” Mimi says.

Vienne steps out of the robes. Her body is lean and hard, the muscles rippling in her back through the symbiarmor as she flexes, calling forth her chi.

Sarge grinds his neck side to side, popping the joints. Muscles bulge from his chest as he puffs up. “I'm Alpha Dog now,” he tells me, ignoring Vienne.

Which is a mistake.

Big mistake.

A punch to the nose—
crack!
—silences him mid-sentence.

“She's going to kick his carking butt,” I tell Mimi.

“Shh!” Mimi says. “I am trying to watch.”

Sarge staggers back. Grabs his nose. Blood pours between his fingers. Down his chin. Puddles in the dirt at his feet.

“I'm bleeding?” he says, and raises his fist.

Like a silent adder striking, Vienne lands a scissor kick to his temple, driving her heel into his eye socket—
crunch!

She drops into a spin.

Sweeps his legs.

His feet fly up. He lands hard on his sacrum. Does a backward roll to his feet. And throws a wicked left hook at an opponent—

Who isn't there.

“Stand still!” he roars, and throws an undercut that lands in Vienne's belly. She hooks his arm, twists it backward, and stomps the arch of his foot.

“Didn't feel a thing,” he says, spitting out blood.

“Not yet,” she says, “but you will.”

She raises her leg again. Sarge catches her foot, and with a violent scream, flips her into the air. She spreads her arms like a falcon catching the wind and her feet land lightly on the stone and she's running, full sprint, elbows and knees churning, her face a twisted mask of anger.

Sarge raises his fists.

But Vienne is on him, under his punches, head ramming his solar plexus, attacking with shadow punches—blindingly fast blows to the gut.

The force bends Sarge over, just as a wave of static electricity arcs over his body, and he freezes.

Like a statue.

“Smart,” I say.

“I didn't teach her
that
,” Mimi says.

Vienne grabs his lowered head. Yanks down with enough force to propel her like a sledge.

And hammers her knee into Sarge's chin.

His mandible shatters.

His lights go out.

“Is he dead, Mimi?”

“Negative,” she says. “But he is finished.”

Vienne collects her things, then puts her hands together and bows. “Please forgive me. May we meet in the afterlife and walk together in peace.”

A chill runs up my spine as she speaks. Her voice is low, full of regret. Not at all like she was a year ago, when she could kill without a second thought.

She's changed.

“So have you, cowboy.”

I put my arm around Vienne. She rests her head on my shoulder, and I feel her body shake as tears roll through the dirt caked to her cheeks.

“Ready to take care of this pigeon business once and for all?”

“Once and for all sounds good to me,” she says. “I'm sick of these mines.”

“And the smell.”

“That, too.”

I grab the harpoon cannon, and we walk a quarter of the way across the bridge and, leaning on the railing, look down at the pigeon. The light is still blinking.

“You're going to use the harpoon cannon to retrieve the pigeon, correct?”

“I was thinking of rappeling down and—”

She takes the cannon from me. “Rappeling's for sissies.” She unhooks the harpoon and ties it off on the railing, then, gripping the cannon tightly, leaps headfirst over the rail.

“Vienne!” I look down, expecting to see her smashed against the rocks. Instead, I find her dangling in midair, belaying the cable out until she lands safely on the outcropping.

“Got it,” she says, holding the pigeon over her head.

I clap. “Now throw it in!”

“I can't throw worth a tinker's dam, and it's too far to the center,” she calls. “Plus, you need to be the one to do this.”

“Hang on then,” I say. “I'll pull you up.”

“Don't bother!” she says.

I hear the click of the take-up switch, and with a squeal of winding cable, she comes shooting toward the bridge. I time her ascent, and as she's about to smack into the side of the bridge, I grab her arms and pull her over the rail.

She hands me the pigeon. “I believe this belongs to you.”

“Thanks,” I say, and drop it in the rucksack. “Let's do this right.”

“Alert!” Mimi says. “Drop pod approaching! Breach is imminent!”

“Pod!” I grab Vienne's hand. “Run!”

We take three steps toward the Cross, and the ceiling explodes. Hunks of rock fall to the ground. We drop, and I cover Vienne, taking the blunt force of the stone.

“Hold on, Vienne!”

“I am!”

“Breach!” Mimi yells.

With a deafening screech, the pod breaks through the ceiling. It plummets onto the bridge, blowing a crater in the decking and blocking our escape route.

Smoke billowing out of the engine, an escape panel slams open. With a whir of servos and the hiss of pneumatics, the rider rises out of the pod.

“Oh my carking god.”

My father has become a monster.