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"Not in my career."

"All right . . . not in mine either." He didn't want to let the sergeant know that he--the Hansa's primary engineering specialist--had no idea what to do.

Reinforcements had arrived. One hundred twenty-eight armored assault vehicles surrounded the factory, blasting any compy that broke loose. Elite commandos were stationed at the primary entrances and shipping bays, but the facility was enormous. If the compies made a concerted effort to break free . . .

Touching the numeric pad, Swendsen estimated how many new robots had been ready for deployment, then calculated the additional number that could have been produced in the meantime. Even with new arrivals, the commandos were already greatly overextended. They could never hold back all the compies.

Someone pounded on the closed hatch of the armored carrier, identified himself to the observation eye, then keyed in his code. A silver beret escorted a thin Asian man wearing a serious expression. "Sergeant Paxton, this man claims to be a compy specialist, a cyberneticist with a great deal of experience in Soldier models and their programming."

Swendsen jumped to his feet. "Dr. Yamane!"

"Dr. Swendsen." Yamane stepped forward for a brief but enthusiastic handshake. "I understand you're having some trouble."

"A bit." Swendsen's excitement surged as Yamane explained his experience with the battle group at Osquivel, observing the Soldier compies in action.

"Here's the interesting part, Dr. Swendsen. When they rescued us, the Roamers also salvaged a hundred Soldier compies, erased their programming, and put them to work. We had a situation similar to what's going on here, compies going berserk--and I caused it. Intentionally."

Paxton rested his elbows on the consultation table inside the armored vehicle. "How--and why--did you manage to do that?"

"We needed a diversion so Commander Fitzpatrick could attempt to escape. Because of my work with the Soldier compies, I knew how to cancel their behavioral restrictions. An insidious little repeater virus that, for lack of a better term, turned them into loose cannons." A wan smile crossed Yamane's face.

Swendsen's eyebrows shot up. "And did it work?"

"They certainly created a diversion, but once the compies clicked into chaos mode, we had no way to stop them. They ended up destroying much of the Roamer shipyards."

Swendsen considered. "So, someone transmitted a similar virus to trigger our current revolt?"

Yamane shook his head. "Transmitted? No, the breakdown is not localized. Soldier compies are simultaneously subverting command protocols all across the Spiral Arm, which means it must be embedded. Some timed instruction must have been included during their initial activation. That implies a long-term plan, which is much more sinister than a programming gremlin."

Swendsen offered the cyberneticist a folding seat inside the crowded vehicle. Yamane looked into his colleague's bright blue eyes. "However, it occurs to me that we could use something similar to achieve the opposite effect. A repeater virus that would serve as a big wrench thrown into their modules."

"That's an idea! I understand." He shot a look over to Sergeant Paxton. "We understand."

"Then I suggest you two get to work as soon as possible," Paxton said.

34

MAGE-IMPERATOR JORA'H

With Osira'h gone, the Mage-Imperator summoned Adar Zan'nh, senior members of the scientist and engineering kiths, military strategists, even Rememberer Vao'sh. Each was the best his kith had to offer. With the help of these men, Jora'h had to find a way to stand against the hydrogues and save the Empire.

He waited in front of the immense gates of the Prism Palace. At the top of the ellipsoidal hill on which the Palace had been built, the rushing water of seven converging streams thundered like the roar of a storm. In straight lines, the streams came together at this point, flowing uphill. From his high vantage, he could see their courses extending to the perimeters of Mijistra, where the