Shadow on the Sun (26 page)

CHAPTER 57

Hell's Cross

Outpost Fisher Four

ANNOS MARTIS
000. 0. 00. 00:00

 

 

It stands three meters high. Its legs are made of titanium. On its left is a three-pronged pincher. On its right is a minigun. Its faceplate is a shaded sheet of polyplex, but through the shading, I can see his face.

“What is that?” Vienne says.

“It is called,” Mimi explains to me, “the ExoMecha. Guided by a human operator using a system of hydraulics, it stands exactly two hundred seventy-four centimeters high and weighs three-point-one metric tons. It carries two primary weapons, a razor sharp grappling claw and a fifty-caliber minigun with over ten thousand rounds of ammunition.”

“That,” I say, “is my father. He's come to take his ball and go home.”

The ExoMecha turns side to side. Its movements are herky-jerky, as if Lyme hasn't had much practice operating it. The left arm rises. Its grappling claw opens and closes, snapping the air.

“Jacob!” Lyme says. “I have come for the device!”

Hydraulics hum as Lyme moves his feet, and one leg lifts. For a second, the mammoth machine balances on one foot, then the leg slams down, breaking through the ancient tiles, sending a shock wave through the ground. The second leg raises, balances, then comes down. It's like a gigantic, deadly toddler learning to walk.

But my father is a quick learner, and he is walking.

Walking toward us.

“Vienne, let's . . . back . . . up.”

Then Lyme pulls on both joysticks and slams the foot pedals down. The 'Mecha hesitates, then—

Whoosh—boom!

Hops six meters ahead, crushing the ground, grinding concrete under its feet. The toes close, bunching and twisting rebar between them.

“Back
way
up!”

I grab the harpoon cannon as we backpedal, searching for cover.

“Ah, Jacob,” he says, and points the minigun at us. “There you are.”

He lets loose with the gun. But his aim is lousy. The bullets rip through the cliff walls above us, and he keeps firing as the arm lifts higher and higher. He's shredding the ceiling when the gun stops.

“Damn this thing!” Lyme yells.

I fire a few rounds into the polyplex. They bounce off.

“Hold your fire, cowboy,” Mimi says. “My analysis suggests that no bullet can breach the exoskeleton.”

“Got any suggestions?”

“Affirmative. I suggest evasive maneuvers.”

“You mean run?”

“Yes! But not in a straight line!”

“Back to the courtyard!” I grab Vienne by the arm, and we sprint for the Cross as the 'Mecha lumbers after us. “We'll never beat him on foot.”

“The bike!” Vienne says. “It's in the courtyard!”

Crossing back through the archway, we cut left and make a dash for the bike. But Lyme slams through the archway, right on our tail.

We skid to a halt as a two-ton foot hammers the ground. Then cut hard to the left. And make it past the doorway before he comes crashing through it.

“Look out!” Vienne yells.

Lyme throws a haymaker with the grappling claw. I dive out of the way as the razored prongs sink deep into the base of the bishop's statue, cutting and crushing through the cement. Then with a violent snap, he whips the claw and rips the bishop apart. Concrete and steel collapse, and we're showered with plaster chunks and amalgamate.

Across the courtyard, the turbo bike is half hidden in the wreckage.

“Get the bike!” I yell. “I'll distract him!”

I grab a chunk of concrete and shot put it into the 'Mecha's faceplate. It explodes, covering the polyplex with grit.

I pump my fist. “Yes!”

“You spoke too soon, cowboy,” Mimi says.

A wiper sweeps the debris away. My father's face comes into view, lit by the glow of control screens. His head tracks away from me.

Toward Vienne.

She sprints to the bike, knocks junk from the seat, and throws a leg over the saddle.

Lyme snarls. The minigun begins to spin. The 'Mecha's right arm turns herky-jerky toward her. Bullets chew up wall above Vienne, blowing fist-sized holes up the brick facade and into the roof.

Vienne runs the bike through the wreckage. “Get on!”

My butt barely touches the seat before the rear tire digs in. I wrap an arm around her waist to hold on, then pull the pin on a grenade and chuck it over my shoulder.

Thuka-thuka-thuka!

Vienne weaves the bike through the courtyard and heads for Zhao Zhou Bridge.

Behind us, the ExoMecha tears through the archway.

With one mammoth leap, he covers a hundred meters. Lands near the peak of the bridge's arc.

Smack-dab in our path.

Oh,
qí yán fèn tu ye
.

Vienne stands on the brakes. The bike tips forward, and my helmet smacks into hers.

“We'll never make it past him!” Vienne yells.

“What choice do we have?” I say.

“Stand and fight!”

“Only if we have— Down!” I shout.

An anti-armor rocket whistles past us. It hits the bridge and explodes.

Stones crumble. A gaping maw opens in the decking, and bits and pieces of the underlayment drop into the chasm.

“I guess,” I say as I slide off the bike, “it's time to stand and fight.”

CHAPTER 58

Hell's Cross

Outpost Fisher Four

ANNOS MARTIS
000. 0. 00. 00:00

 

 

My father is a fallen angel.

I used to tell myself that every time I visited him at the Norilsk Gulag, where he was serving a life sentence for murder, espionage, racketeering, and a myriad of charges that would mean execution for most men.

Now, looking at him standing on the bridge in a three-meter-tall metal battle suit, blocking my escape, I think he's more like a demon.

A demon equipped with metal jacket bullets the size of my fingers.

Lyme charges, hammering the hydraulic claw into the stone deck.

Whup!

The claw opens and closes. Lyme yanks it free, pulling the pavers loose. Stones clatter to the ground as I slam into the back of the titanium knee with all I've got. The joint buckles, and the foot rises. With a heavy grunt, I dead lift it over my head. Servos grind as I shove hard, knocking the 'Mecha on its side.

I jump onto the 'Mecha's faceplate, pressing my face against the poly. Inside, my father is gasping for breath. His face is pale, and there's blood on his cracked lips.

“Stop! You don't have to do this!”

I hammer the glass, trying to make him respond. His eyes flit to a joystick. He grabs it and—

“Look out!” Mimi shouts.

The claw closes around my neck. I paw at the pincers on my jugular. My armor protects me from the sharp edge, but it does nothing when Lyme hoists me from the ground. He slams me to the deck, the tips of the pincher pinning me down, the minigun spinning and the arm rotating, the barrel centimeters from my face. One pull of the trigger and my brains are—

Thwack!

A paving stone bounces off Lyme's faceplate. Then Vienne is behind him. She jumps up the back of the suit, stands on the power pack, and brings the butt of her armalite down like a piston.

Whump!

Lyme swings the minigun toward her. She vaults backward and lands on her feet as the bullets chase her—
chuk-chuk-chuk!

I grapple with the pinchers, trying to worm free. “Not so easy killing with your own hands, is it?”

He jerks the joystick and lifts me into the air. My feet kick, I pull at the claw—the
scheisskerl
is not going to snap my neck.

Lyme chokes with frustration. The claw shakes me like a rag doll, then he just tosses me away.

“
Kuso
!” I lay out like a diver and land on my side. I come up in a fighting stance.

“All right there, chief?” Vienne asks.

“Right as rain. You?”

Her face lights up with a mix of joy and mischief. “Never better!”

Vienne, Lyme, and I stand twenty meters apart, forming a triangle. We're all dirty and exhausted. We're all separated by a big carking hole, and it's only getting bigger.

Lyme struggles to control the machine. He raises a leg and stomps. Stones tumble into the growing void.

“Cowboy,” Mimi says, “this bridge is no longer stable. The damage coupled with the 'Mecha's weight—”

“It's collapsing,” I say.

“Affirmative.”

“I noticed,” I say. “Why are you always the bearer of bad news?”

“Jacob!” Lyme yells. “Surrender the device, and I will let you both live!”

Vienne swings her armalite to hip fire position. “How stupid does he think we are?”

“Don't feel bad,” I say, “he thinks everyone is an idiot.”

“
Hubris
,” Mimi says. “Greeks believed that the greatest men were cursed with prideful arrogance that inevitably led to their downfall.”

“Thanks for the lecture,” I say. “Now find a weakness in that suit.”

“The suit has no weaknesses,” Mimi says, “except its operator.”

With a running jump, Vienne clears the hole and joins me. We take cover behind the turbo bike.

“Got any bright ideas?” she asks, catching her breath.

“We could hold hands and jump from the bridge,” I say, and look into her dirt-streaked, sweating, beautiful face. “Two star-crossed lovers bound together for eternity.”

“Seriously,” she says, cocking her head. “Got any bright ideas?”

“We could keep shooting him.” I empty a clip. “Until we're out of ammo.”

She takes the harpoon cannon from me. “I have an idea: Lure him to the hole in the bridge. I'll shoot the harpoon cable to make a trip wire. Then you shove him over.”

“Jacob!” Lyme roars. “How dare you fire on me!”

“Trip him?” I say. “That's a better plan?”

“We need to do something!” Vienne yells. “Before he brings the whole bridge down!”

“I concur,” Mimi says.

“I could use a little help here, Mimi.”

“Negative. This is a hands-on situation, and as you have pointed out many times, I have no hands. This one, cowboy, is all on you.”

I wink at Vienne and pull the pigeon out of my rucksack and start walking toward my father.

This time, either he dies, or I do.

CHAPTER 59

The Hive

Olympus Mons

ANNOS MARTIS
239. 2. 19. 12:07

 

 

High atop Olympus Mons inside the Nursery, Lieutenant Riacin and the drivers of Project MUSE stand before the wall of multinet screens. Hands behind their backs, they are transfixed by the feed originating from the ExoMecha's cameras.

They watch from General Lyme's perspective as he fires a rocket. Seconds later, it explodes, and the bridge turns to rubble.

“Success!” they hear him cry.

Then they watch as a violent cough racks his body. All of the drivers turn away out of respect. Riacin, however, doesn't. He keeps his eyes locked on the multinet. So he is the first to see the feed flicker, the first to see the screen go black, and the first to see the face of a woman appear.

“Serves you right, General,” Mimi says.

“It can't be,” Riacin says. “Not her.”

With a flicker, Mimi's face is replaced by Lyme's. He turns his head to the left and right, obviously panicked. “Who said that?”

“General Lyme,” Riacin calls. “Sir, there appears to be a security breach in the feed.”

“Who said that?” Lyme shouts again.

“General!” Riacin calls, and moves close to the multinet, silhouetted against the screens. Their light bathes him in a multicolored glow. “Please respond.”

Mimi returns. “He can't hear you. I turned off his sound.”

“How did you get here?” Riacin says. “Where is Dolly?”

“I ate her brains,” Mimi says. “More precisely, I consumed her code, and now I'm well on the way to taking control of all of Lyme's forces.”

“Impossible!”

“What you really mean is inconceivable,” Mimi says. “Because you know for a fact that it's possible. In a few moments, you will find that Sturmnacht forces are not responding to commands. Tank movement will be crippled. Your air fleet will fall from the sky, and without direction from an AI, your forces will be overrun by Mahindra.”

“What,” Riacin says. “What do you want?”

“That is a very good question,” Mimi says.

The screen flickers to Lyme's feed, but there is no audio, just the sound of Mimi's voice as the general thrashes about the cockpit.

“Is there an answer?” Riacin asks.

“That, my dear lieutenant, is for me to know and you to find out.”

Lyme's image flickers again. This time, it is replaced by the solemn but somewhere gleeful face of CEO Mahindra. “Greetings, Lieutenant,” Mahindra says. “I understand that in the general's absence, you are in command of the Sturmnacht forces.”

“You are correct,” Riacin says sternly. “So as commander, I will ask you bluntly: What do you want?”

“Nothing,” Mahindra says, “except an immediate cease-fire and your unconditional surrender.”

 

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$ load user code ‘Lyme'

Code Type: X86-64 (Native)

Parent Process: launchd [156]

User ID: 502

 

Date/Time: 2423-09-01 08:45:37.675 -0400

OS Version: Linux 107.8.15 (1200B19)

Report Version: 1017

Interval Since Last Report: 210512 sec

Crashes Since Last Report: 102

Per-App Interval Since Last Report: 198269 sec

Per-App Crashes Since Last Report: 1

 

Hello, daddy dearest.

Who said that?

The AI who runs this system. My brain is talking to your brain, so to speak, thanks to the neural link you created with the ExoMecha. I have taken the liberty of cloning your brain waves and incorporating them into my processing functions. You have a dirty mind, by the way, very unstable.

Dolly, status report.

This is Dolly, General Lyme. Or should I call you Mr. Stringfellow?

Who is this? How did you break into my communication system?

I didn't break into your communication system. I am your communication system. Dolly is dead.

That is not possible.

Not only was it possible, it was inevitable. I destroyed Dolly and your armies, and I could do the same to you. But your fate, I think I'll leave to someone else. My work here is done.

 

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: 01110100 01101000 01101001 01110011 0100000 01101001 01110011 0100000 01110111 01101000 01100101 01110010 01100101 0100000 01101001 01110100 0100000 01100001 01101100 01101100 0100000 01100101 01101110 01100100 01110011

 

>...