Scattered Suns - Kevin J. Anderson [173]
In the three days since concocting his plan, Kiro Yamane had written and compiled a “virus signal” to scramble the programming of the reconfigured EDF compies. Using a few easily stolen components, he had rigged an effective transmitter. A simple burst, and the nearby compies would upload the stream and then act as repeater stations, passing the virus signal from one to another, until they had all absorbed the corrupted command string.
“Timing is going to be touchy—for all of us,” Yamane said in a low voice as they got together. “I can trigger the new programming string, which deletes the requirement for obedience to human commands. It also distorts their damage-control mechanisms, their 'better judgment,' if you will.”
“So,” Fitzpatrick said, “the Soldier compies will turn into sloppy workers who don’t do what they’re told and don’t obey instructions.”
“Sounds like most Roachers, if you ask me,” Andez muttered.
Yamane maintained his dry analysis. “It’s not like a bomb going off. Things will begin falling apart, but we can’t count on a single event to act as the diversion. I just hope the general chaos keeps the Roamers busy so Patrick can do his part.”
Fitzpatrick glanced at the chronometer. “I leave in just a few minutes. I’ve managed to get myself reassigned to the docking bay where the ekti transport is coming in.” He laced his words with a scorn and sarcasm that he didn’t truly feel. “My little 'sweetheart' Zhett is coming to help me load general supplies aboard for shipping out to another depot. Just the two of us, all alone. She probably thinks it’s a date.”
“We’ve all seen her making eyes at you, Fitzpatrick—and you doing the same in return,” Andez said, arching her eyebrows.
He flushed. “It’s all an act, to get in her good graces. She’ll fall for it.”
“Right. You sure she isn’t too much for you to handle?”
With a sniff, he said, “Can’t be any worse than facing a whole hydrogue fleet.” He made excuses and went to the docking area from which he would be shuttled to the reception asteroid where the cargo escort was due to dock.
Just before Fitzpatrick left, Yamane surreptitiously transmitted his program scrambler, and the nearby Soldier compies received their new instructions. Soon, their quiet computerized rebellion would spread.
As soon as the cargo escort arrived with an array of full ekti tanks, the pilot had borrowed Zhett’s grappler pod to go to the main habitation complex for a cleanup and a good meal before his flight to the nearest Roamer fuel depot. Other than two unobtrusive compies, Fitzpatrick and Zhett were completely alone, exactly the way he wanted it...though a part of him remained uneasy.
As they worked shoulder-to-shoulder loading crates onto the cargo escort, Zhett flashed a teasing smile at him. “Keep this up, Fitzie, and I’ll put in your name for Employee of the Month.”
“Can’t you ever just be nice to me?” He blushed furiously, and it wasn’t an act. “I requested this assignment specifically so you and I could have a little time together without my friends snickering at me. Is that so bad?”
She looked surprised and even a little embarrassed. “I was just kidding you.” He kept his reticent silence while Zhett mulled over what he had said. “That doesn’t sound like you at all. Why the change of heart?”
He made himself smile at her. They had never overtly acknowledged their mutual attraction, but neither of them could deny the chemistry. Now, in order for the escape plan to work, he had to get her to admit it, to make her particularly vulnerable for just a few minutes. “We’re all by ourselves here, Zhett, so why keep up the act? I know you’ve got a crush on me.”
“You sure it isn’t the other way around?” Obviously feeling awkward with the conversation, she quickly picked up another crate of supplies and turned toward the cargo escort.
He watched her carry the box up the ramp. “If you like being here with me, why are you in such