The AI War Part 31

"When we discussed that," said L'Wrona angrily, "you said they could replace it very quickly."

The AI held up a hand. "True," he said. "How many of you ....?"

The captain turned and whistled twice. S'Til and two commandos appeared. They carried another trooper between them, his head swathed in bandages.

"That's it?" said the AI.

"They chewed us up, bit by bit, before we lost them," said John.

"Six of you, to attack Operations?" asked R'Gal, incredulous.

"We're going to attack it and take it," said L'Wrona with more conviction than he felt.

"And the security posts? You can't storm them with this pathetic force."

"We were going to face that when we got there," said John. "You have a better idea?"

R'Gal nodded. "Yes. Watch."

Nothing happened for a moment, then the AI's form began to soften, its contours shrinking into a blue-red blur that quickly reformed into a smaller, more compact shape: a security blade hovered before them, baleful red sensor scan shifting along its deadly front edge.

"Just hope the security posts are as convinced as you," said R'Gal, staring at the six blasters that pointed at him.

There was a faint sc.r.a.ping sound as the weapons were reholstered.

"My G.o.d!" said John. "Can you change into any of those?"

"I can change into any of me," said R'Gal. "Into any of the various evolutions I've been through, down the centuries.

"Now, please leave the wounded man here, along with one attendant, and all your rifles. Tuck those Ml lA's into your jackets."

"Detection equipment?" asked John, stuffing the blaster into his belt and refastening the jacket.

"Leave them to me," said R'Gal. "Along with all else, until we reach the heart of Operations-then open up."

"Blades," hissed S'Til as five of the killers rounded the corner, flying in a tight phalanx.

"Prisoners in custody," said R'Gal, switching languages.

"You took them by yourself?" said the phalanx leader, stopping in front of R'Gal.

"My comrades were destroyed," said R'Gal. "These"- he dipped toward the humans-"are for interrogation. Captain's orders."

"Well done," said the true blade. "We're reporting to the surface-the humans have forced a landing." With that they turned a tight circle and were gone.

"Deadly, efficient, but not very complex," sighed R'Gal, turning to the humans. "Very well, let's go, straight up the corridor to the lift. Keep in front of me, please. Oh, and Captain?"

"What?" said L'Wrona as S'Til detailed a corporal to stay with the wounded trooper.

"Please, try to look defeated."

22.

L'Kor dived for cover, landing next to Zahava behind the shelter of a gun turret.

"Where is everyone?" said Zahava as the D'Linian low-crawled over to her, rifle atop his arms.

"Four and two squads are on our left," he said, sitting up to rest against the turret's gray battlesteel. "I sent a scout to find three through eight. She hasn't reported back."

Communications were gone, the tac channels a hopeless whine of high-powered jamming.

"And first squad?" said Zahava.

"We're first squad."

"Where's S'Lat?"

"She's my scout," said L'Kor.

Zahava rose, risking a look. The fog was just as thick as before, a slimy, yellow cloud hanging between the humans and the Operations tower, its mast light a dimly visible green through the murk.

First had come the fog-actually a highly toxic nerve gas-then the blades had returned, silently hunting amid the thick poison, sensors unimpaired. They'd devastated the humans' advance: swooping, slicing and running, gone before the survivors could shoot. The a.s.sault had wavered, then scattered, breaking for cover. And the blades continued to hunt.

Zahava and L'Kor turned, rifles aiming at something materializing out of the fog. It was S'Lat.

The lieutenant sank down between them. "We'll all be dead very soon," she said, shaking her head. "They're wiping us, one by one."

Both D'Linians looked at Zahava. "Retreat?" said the Terran. "Is that what you're thinking?"

"Yes," nodded S'Lat. "Back to the boats."

"And how are the boats going to get through the shield?" she asked.

The two looked at each other. "You're right." said L'Kor. He stood. "Can't go back, can't stay here, might as well-"

The blade knifed out of the fog, sliced off L'Kor's head and was gone, a tumbling corpse in its wake. The major's head rolled from its helmet, coming to rest against a sensor pod, the eyes wide, surprised. There was blood everywhere.

"Don't puke!" snapped Zahava, seeing S'Lat's face. "You'll jam the suit recycler."

The lieutenant looked away, biting her lip. "What was he saying?" she asked, after a moment. "About not staying here?"

"He was saying we have to go forward, or they'll finish us," said the Terran.

Zahava took her battletorch from her belt, flicked it on and then twisted the forward rim until the beam contracted into a fierce blue globe of light, too bright to look on. Rifle on her hip, torch held high, the Terran stepped from cover and began walking toward the Operations tower.

S'Lat caught up with her a second later, her own torch held high, rifle ready. By the time they'd reached the next turret, more troopers had fallen in beside them, torches alight, rifles ready.

Silently, they moved forward, a long thin line of blazing light cutting a swath through the yellow death. When the blade sorties came, they were met by ma.s.sed fusion fire, beating them back into the mist.

Through it all. Zahava moved as though in a trance, her eyes fixed on the winking green light that marked their objective.

"You're going to get us all killed," said N'Trol, standing over D'Trelna, who sat watching the tacscan. "Always expected you would. Commodore, but I resent your doing it now, just after we fixed this ancient hulk for you."

D'Trelna looked up. "And I appreciate it," he said.

"I know you're not a line officer, N'Trol. but aren't you at all curious as to why we're not dead yet?'' He pointed at the screen. Even at minimum magnification, Devastator Devastator more than filled the scan, only a small portion of it visible. ''They should have wiped us before we'd left that satellite." more than filled the scan, only a small portion of it visible. ''They should have wiped us before we'd left that satellite."

N'Trol stared at the screen, reading the datatrail. "You launched us directly at the center of the battleglobe as the satellite pa.s.sed it. They're not firing. ..."

He looked at the commodore. "The landing force. They've taken out the guns that could have ranged us."

"Yes. And we hope the AIs have pulled out their gun crews to fight the landing party. No guns and no gun crews-we should make it. We were close when we launched, and once we're inside their shield, it'll be too late to get those guns manned-even if they've restored fusion feeds to them. We can take them out."

"And the shield?" said N'Trol, staring at the shimmering blue now filling the screen.

D'Trelna raised a finger, holding it poised over a b.u.t.ton. "Captain L'Wrona and his party have by now installed a shield override trigger. I have only to push this little switch and that great big shield will flick off.''

"Did L'Wrona report it as accomplished?" asked the engineer.

"Communications are being jammed," said the commodore. "But L'Wrona will have done it."

"How's your signal going to get through, then?"

"It's on a little-used AI frequency."

"R'Gal," said the engineer.

"R'Gal," nodded the commodore.

"Better push that b.u.t.ton now," said N'Trol uneasily, eyeing a red-flashing figure on the datatrail. "We're going to hit."

D'Trelna glanced at the screen, then stabbed at the switch.

Nothing happened.

Again and again, D'Trelna pushed. Devastator's Devastator's shield came closer, a brilliant azure blazing in the screen. shield came closer, a brilliant azure blazing in the screen.

N'Trol leaped for a communicator. "Engineering! Emergency override! Full reverse!"

"K'Lana, collision alert! Advise all decks," said D'Trelna, standing.

An alarm sounded, three sharp, ascending notes, over and over.

D'Trelna and N'Trol watched as the blue shield of the battleglobe and the faint haze marking Implacable's Implacable's shield rushed toward each other. shield rushed toward each other.

"Can you pull us out?" asked D'Trelna, watching the board.

"No," said the engineer, also watching the board. "Can she take it?"

"No. She'll break up," said N'Trol. "Should have stayed on the satellite, Commodore."

"Man was meant to strive, not hide, Engineer," said D'Trelna, gripping his chair.

"Comforting," said N'Trol, grabbing for a railing as the shields met.

"First post," whispered R'Gal, floating just behind the humans. The troopers, John, and L'Wrona walked double file, hands behind their heads.

A broad ramp circled the interior of the Operations tower-a ramp blocked by the white haze of a forcefield and three blades.

R'Gal drifted to the front of the column. "Prisoners for interrogation," he said.

"Authorization and security level?" challenged the lead blade.

R'Gal gave it and waited, hoping. After what seemed a long time to the humans, the shield flicked off. "Pa.s.s," said the lead blade.

"How did you do that?" asked John as they double-timed up the ramp.

"Generic security code issued to senior command staff," said the AI. "Programmed into these ships when they were built and never changed."

"And if they had been?" said L'Wrona.

"It would have been messy," said R'Gal.

The same technique worked at the next three posts. At the last post though, the one at the entrance to the Operations center, there was a problem.

"No interrogation's scheduled or needed," said the human-adapted AI facing them. He glanced at the prisoners. "They should have been disposed of outside."

"I received a direct order from the bridge to bring them here," said R'Gal. "Let me speak with the captain."

"Come with me," said the officer. He turned to the five blades hovering in front of the forcefield. "Watch them," he said, pointing to the prisoners.

The forcefield flicked off. As the officer stepped through, R'Gal sent a bolt exploding into the field's control unit, then fired three bolts into the hostile AI. The officer staggered back, half his head blown away, and crumpled against the bulkhead, smoke curling toward the ceiling.

All five blades whirled to engage R'Gal. Blue bolts snapped and hissed, half a dozen striking R'Gal. Two of the blades went down, then the rest fell to a sudden ragged volley of fusion fire, taken from behind as the humans pulled their blasters and opened fire.

"a.s.sault!" cried L'Wrona, leading the charge into the heart of Devastator. Devastator.

Moving slowly, tilting to the right, R'Gal started to follow.

The line of light reached the tower. "Face about," ordered S'Lat with a hand signal. Zahava was busying herself at the ma.s.sive double doors guarding the entrance.