The transit station was made of carefully joined blocks of
limestone, which had been eroded by the weather and almost entirely hidden by a blanket of green foliage. The raptor, which Tepho had sealed against intruders, crouched off to one side. And right in front of the structure, where a parking lot had existed once, there was a flat area. And that was where the assassin stood as she looked out over the verdant jungle to the sparkling sea beyond. Phan had never been one to spend much time looking at nature, but as the light started to fade, and a golden glow settled over the island, even
she
had to take notice of the beauty that surrounded her.
Then, just as quickly as the moment came, it was gone. And when darkness fell, it fell quickly, as if eager to claim its full share of the day. And that was when the assassin was forced to confront the fact that while Tepho, Logos, Shaz, and the rest of the party had been transported to Socket, she along with two metal men, had been left to guard what the combat variant called, “the back door.”
It shouldn’t have mattered, not so long as she was being paid, but it was difficult to ignore the power-core-induced nausea, or the feeling of disappointment that resulted from having participated in a long, difficult journey only to be left behind just short of the final goal. But such maunderings were unprofessional, not to mention unproductive, and therefore dangerous. With that in mind, Phan forced herself to focus on the task at hand.
Logos claimed that the runner, the sensitive, and the second AI were not only present on the island of Buru, but determined to reach Socket. Having traveled with the humans, the assassin didn’t doubt it. She knew from personal experience that Rebo and Norr were not only tough but tenacious. So they would come. . . . The question was when? Neither one of them liked to travel at night. She knew that, but what if they did? Phan could survive on very little sleep, but she couldn’t go without any at all, and that suggested that some sort of early-warning system was in order.
Fortunately, the metal men were perfect for that role, because while the cudgel-toting robots had limited combat capabilities, they could literally see in the dark thanks to their sophisticated sensors. With that in mind, the human led the machines out to positions in front of the transfer station, where their sensors would overlap, thereby establishing an invisible wall between the jungle and herself.
Once the machines were properly positioned, Phan withdrew to the point where a flight of stone steps led up into the building and settled in for the night. Somewhere out in the jungle an animal made a strange, gibbering noise, Socket topped the eastern horizon, and ghosts roamed the land.
The transfer station was no more than a hundred feet
ahead—and Sogol wanted to enter it with every atom of her electromechanical body. And, had she been equipped with a vehicle that could push buttons located approximately four feet off the floor, might have rushed to do so, even if that meant leaving the humans behind. The need to reach Socket and fulfill her purpose was that strong.
But, just as Emperor Hios and his engineers had been careful to craft Logos 1.1 so that he couldn’t leave Socket without human assistance, the same limitation had been placed on her. Still, Sogol took satisfaction from the fact that she could assist the humans by snaking her way forward to discover what sort of defenses lay between them and the transfer station. Dead leaves rustled as the AI slipped between thickly growing plants, slithered over an enormous tree root, and “sensed” electromechanical activity ahead. That shouldn’t have been a surprise, since Sogol knew that the Techno Society often made use of robots, but it was because the AI had been on the lookout for
human
sentries. There was barely enough time to electronically cloak herself before the android’s sensors began to ping the area around her. But the metal man had been too slow, and after thirty seconds of intensive probing, reverted to standby.
Farther back, located about halfway between the androids, the AI “saw” a blob of heat and knew it to be of human origin. Sogol’s first impulse was to return to the others, report what she had discovered, and wait for them to handle the problem. But then a more daring option occurred to the construct. One that, if successful, would not only be more efficient but save a significant amount of time as well.
Still protected from prying sensors, the snakelike AI slipped noiselessly along the ground, circled around behind one of the two androids, and coiled herself into the shape of a spring. Then, having launched herself into the air, Sogol managed to fall across a crooked arm. The reaction was almost instantaneous as the robot sought to shake off whatever it was. But the AI was already up on the machine’s shoulder by then, searching for what she felt sure would be there. And the receptacle
was
there—right at the base of the metal man’s alloy skull.
Sogol’s head morphed to fit the hole, darted inside, and locked itself in place. For one brief moment the computer thought she might be able to take control of the robot and thereby secure a larger body for herself, but quickly discovered that the other machine’s systems were too primitive for her architecture. That left the AI with no choice but to lock the robot’s joints, erase most of its CPU, and withdraw.
There was only the faintest
thump
as Sogol hit the ground and wriggled her way over to the point where the second metal man stood gazing out into the darkness. Sixty seconds later
that
machine was off-line, too, and the AI was back on the ground, snaking her way back to the point where the humans were waiting.
Both Rebo and Norr listened intently as the construct delivered her report—and the runner was already in the process of rechecking his weapons when Norr touched his arm. “No, Jak. I can ‘see’ in the dark . . . Remember? And, given the fact that there’s only one guard, I should be able to handle this one alone.”
Rebo didn’t like the proposal but, knowing what the sensitive said about being able to see the guard’s aura was true, reluctantly agreed. “Okay, but be careful, and don’t hesitate to call for help.”
“I won’t,” Norr assured him, and proceeded to dump her pack along with the stubby shotgun. Then, having checked to ensure that none of her equipment would creak, rattle, or otherwise betray her, the sensitive planted a kiss on Rebo’s whiskered cheek and vanished into the night.
Foliage slid past Norr’s shoulder, a small animal scuttled away, and the light reflected off Socket seemed to glaze the area ahead. The robots were invisible, or would have been if the variant hadn’t known where to look. But, thanks to Sogol’s report, she could see a faint glint off to the right, and a place where the darkness seemed even darker over on the left.
Now, with her senses focused on the area between the machines, the sensitive crept forward. She perceived nothing at first, other than the multiple pinpoints of life force that represented a host of flying insects, but it wasn’t long before a dim glow became visible. Based on the aura’s size and shape Norr knew she was looking at a human. And not just
any
human—but one she knew quite well. It was Phan! Left to guard the star gate.
Norr felt a momentary surge of fear, because she knew what the female warrior was capable of and felt certain that Phan could best her.
But, not at night,
the variant told herself, not when the assassin couldn’t see.
Phan was leaning against her pack, which was supported by the transfer station’s door, when she awoke from a light sleep. A night sound perhaps? Or a surreptitious bug bite? It must have been something of that sort the assassin reasoned—or the metal men would have warned her. It was tempting to illuminate the machines with her cell-powered torch, but that would be childish, not to mention potentially fatal. Because if Rebo and Norr were lurking in the darkness, trying to spot her position, a single flash of light would provide them with everything they needed.
So Phan closed her fingers around the grip of her submachine gun and let her head rest on the door behind her. Sleep swept in and was just about to pull her down when a soft breeze touched her face. With it came a strange yet familiar scent. Strange, because it was foreign to that environment, yet familiar, because Norr wore that particular perfume every day!
The assassin rolled right, moonlight gleamed off the razor-sharp blade as it passed through the area just vacated, and the automatic weapon stuttered as Phan fired a quick burst. Not because it would hit Norr, but to intimidate the sensitive and prevent a follow-up. But that was a mistake, since the muzzle flash left afterimages dancing in front of the assassin’s eyes, just when she needed her night vision the most. Where were the robots, Phan wondered? And why hadn’t the machines given some sort of warning? But there was no time for further thought as the norm heard three soft footsteps and felt cold steel caress her right cheek.
The cut burned as Phan rolled again, slammed into a wall, and bounced to her feet. The stairs made for uncertain footing, but the norm soon regained her balance and was back in the fight. Having lost the advantage of surprise and missed her target twice, Norr felt a surge of fear as Phan activated the torch. The light pinned the sensitive to the stairs, feet planted, sword ready to strike.
The assassin saw the fear in Norr’s eyes, paused to savor it, and felt something nudge her chest. Once, twice, then three times as an energy weapon winked at her from the jungle.
Rebo! How could I have forgotten Rebo?
Phan wondered. But the question went unanswered as what looked like a thick gray fog rolled in to engulf her—and the first of more than a hundred of Phan’s victims arrived to greet the assassin.
Having holstered his weapon, Rebo emerged from the bush carrying both packs and Norr’s shotgun. “Here you go,” the runner said lightly. “And the next time you call for help—speak a little louder.”
Norr was about to reply when Sogol interrupted. As before, the AI had wrapped herself around the sensitive’s arm. “Tepho’s party ran into trouble! We still have time! Let’s go!”
Rebo wanted to ask, What kind of trouble? but was left to follow as Norr mounted the steps, took hold of the massive door handle, and pulled the slab of metal open. Hinges squealed as the rich odor of decay pushed out to greet the newcomers. Then, as the sensitive moved forward, she nearly tripped over a pile of bones. It was impossible to tell if the remains were human, but their very presence was cause for concern since the gate was supposed to be sealed against all intruders.
“Look at this,” Rebo said, as he sent the light from Phan’s torch down the tunnel in front of them.
That was when Norr saw that vines, some as thick as her wrist, had forced their way down through the ceiling and into the passageway. But why? Unless . . .
Having sensed their presence, a motion detector activated a long series of glow panels, some of which remained dark. Here was the light the creepers would need—but what would trigger the motion detector? And do so with sufficient regularity?
The answer became apparent as something dropped out of an overhead vent, landed on Rebo’s right shoulder, and went for the runner’s jugular. The norm felt needle-sharp teeth penetrate his skin and made an ineffectual grab for the creature. But it was Norr who got a grip on the attacker’s pointy tail, jerked the reptilian beast free, and smashed it against the nearest wall.
Whatever it was fell, jerked spasmodically, and produced a tendril of black smoke. “It’s some sort of machine!” Norr exclaimed, her shotgun at the ready.
“Not ‘some sort,’ ” Sogol put in. “The guardian in question is a Porto Industries 8812-B specially enhanced mechanimal. Back when Socket was first commissioned, thousands of security robots were introduced to the satellite’s crawl spaces and air ducts.”
“Then why did it attack you?” Rebo wanted to know.
“It didn’t attack
me
,” Sogol replied tartly. “It attacked
you.
Which would explain why Tepho and his party are having so much trouble. Come on . . . let’s make the jump!”
“Oh, goody,” Rebo said, and he followed the other two down the corridor. “That should be fun.”
Norr felt as if she was going to throw up as the radiation produced by the power core grew even stronger. Because the mechanimals were machines, they lacked auras, which meant the sensitive was just as vulnerable as Rebo was. But the shotgun imbued the variant with a sense of confidence and seemed to fire itself when a sleek body launched itself off a ledge, only to disintegrate in midair. The rotary magazine made a clacking sound as the next shell was advanced.
“Nice shooting,” the runner said approvingly, as they entered what had once been a standard decontamination chamber but had long since been converted into what looked like a hothouse for exotic plants. The invaders lined both sides of the chamber, and judging from the bits of bone that stuck up out of the dirt, had originally been sustained by a corpse. Perhaps a wing, who, curious as to what might lie behind the outer door, had been so foolish as to venture inside.
Some of the plants glowed as if lit from within, some turned to track Norr’s progress, and one of them sent a stream of fluid squirting into the air. It fell short of the sensitive, but made a sizzling sound as it hit, and left another burn mark on the filthy floor. Rebo gave the plants a wide berth, heard something move over his head, and fired three energy bolts into the ceiling. The noise stopped.
The star gate itself was no better. The actual platform had been cleared of debris, but all sorts of vegetation had grown in and around it, and Sogol didn’t like the looks of what she saw. “I think other life-forms may have passed through long before Tepho and his party arrived,” the AI warned. “Socket has been contaminated.”
“Terrific,” Rebo said sarcastically. “Just what I wanted to hear.”
Norr pushed the only button there was to push, but it wouldn’t budge. But then, as she stepped out onto the transfer platform, the now-familiar female voice started into its usual spiel. That meant
anything
could have passed through the gate over the years. The sensitive held the shotgun with one hand and extended the other to Rebo. “Come on, hon,” Norr said, “we’re almost there.”