Of Fire and Night - Kevin J. Anderson [43]
"Soldier compies don't kill humans," Swendsen said.
"And the Earth is flat," Private Elman grumbled from behind him.
Paxton dragged their attention back to the diagram. "Near the end is the programming complex, with central upload banks for ‘finishing' the compies."
Swendsen added, "The Klikiss modules are already implanted, but the programming center gives them an overlay of functional systems, interactive programming beyond the embedded instruction sets." He gave a nervous little laugh. "We like to say that's where they get their marching orders."
Several facility alarms began to sound. Paxton looked through an opening in the tent dome. Four more troop transports and armored equipment carriers settled down in the now-vacant landing fields and shipping lots. "Dr. Swendsen, tell us what we're up against."
"The automated lines are very efficient." Swendsen scratched his upper lip. "They can produce four hundred compies a day, ready to be deployed aboard EDF ships."
Paxton frowned. "That's what I was afraid of. How many completed compies were in the storage bay at last count?"
"I'm not actually in charge of inventory. Deactivated compies stand in ranks until we transport them away. Quite a lot of them can fit--"
"How many?" Paxton repeated.
"Several thousand, I think. Depends on when the last shipment went out. I've been busy over at the hydrogue derelict, you know."
Paxton addressed his team. "Let's get in there before their Trojan horse programming switches on like it did aboard the EDF ships."
Elman snorted. "Sounds like we may already be too late."
The silver berets double-timed out of the tent, bustling Swendsen along with them. Paxton kept up the conversation, not even short of breath. "Just to be clear, Dr. Swendsen--once we get inside, you can use your managerial overrides to shut down the systems, correct?"
"Sure. It'll be tedious to manually deactivate any functional compies individually, but the ones in the waiting area should just be standing there. Nothing to worry about."
"Right. Nothing to worry about. Let's get inside."
The thirty commandos carried electronic pulse projectors and heavy-caliber launchers whose sharp bullets had a lubricant sheath that could penetrate even the armored exoskeletons of Soldier compies.
"Is all this really necessary?" Swendsen said. "They're just compies. I'm sure it's only a glitch."
"A pretty deadly glitch," a commando muttered, not breaking her stride.
Paxton gave him a scowl. "Yes, sir. It's absolutely necessary."
The tall metal doors were sealed. Swendsen stood in front of the locks, baffled. "Access to these bays isn't supposed to be blocked. Odd. Someone's barricaded them from the inside."
Elman said, "Maybe the clankers are having a private party in there."
Sealed doors did not hinder the commandos. A demolitions crew ran forward, planted foam explosives around the jamb, then blew the entry barrier. Even as the segmented metal gate tumbled inward, the silver berets were already running, weapons extended. They charged into the factory, shining lights and pointing launchers while several of them protectively surrounded Swendsen.
The last time he'd been inside the facility, Swendsen had remarked how brightly lit even the cavernous open bays appeared. Many of the lights had now faltered, leaving the bays in shadow.
The strangest revelation, though, was that the huge warehouse where all the completed compies stood ready for deployment--was empty. Swendsen couldn't understand it. "But . . . there should be thousands of deactivated compies just waiting here."
"I guess they're not deactivated anymore," Private Elman said.
"Defensive positions, everyone!" the sergeant barked. "They could be lying in ambush."
The commandos moved through the empty warehouse toward the assembly lines. Up ahead, the construction