Scattered Suns - Kevin J. Anderson [175]
He shouted to the still-working compies. “Your task is finished. Your orders are terminated. Go stand against the wall and shut down.” He didn’t want any of them to think about sounding an alarm. Once the obedient robots did as he told them, he had the entire docking bay to himself.
When he climbed aboard the cargo escort, Fitzpatrick threw a glance over his shoulder to make sure the storage chamber door remained closed. It would keep Zhett busy for a while.
He listened in on the Roamer channels and heard a growing buzz of concerned chatter. Apparently, Yamane’s glitches had already begun to take hold among the Soldier compies. Good. Several production lines had been brought to a standstill, and the frustrated Roamer engineers were thrown into confusion by the incomprehensible behavior.
Del Kellum bellowed at his outlying teams. “By damn, the compies are intentionally jamming up the machinery! Get them back on track.”
“We’re trying, Del. But something’s setting them off! The sabotage is just growing worse.”
With so much chaos in the shipyards, Fitzpatrick could slip away before anyone noticed what he was up to. Judging by the stress in Kellum’s voice, the Roamers couldn’t handle another emergency at the moment.
He fired up the engines, and the ungainly cargo escort lifted off. The docking bay doors opened, and he flew out, guiding the clumsy craft away from the other shipyard facilities.
Down in the rings, Soldier compies continued to go haywire. Grappler pods and cargo ships moved in erratic paths, nearly colliding with each other. Only a handful of the vessels were flown by the schizophrenic Soldier compies; the Roamers in the rest were just trying to get out of the way in time.
As he listened to the frantic chatter over the comm bands, somebody signaled him, assuming he was an authorized pilot and asking why he had departed so soon. Fitzpatrick didn’t bother to answer.
He flew out from the beautiful disc rings that encircled Osquivel, glad to get away. He was free. None of the Roamer ships could catch up with him now. Once he engaged the Ildiran stardrive, he would be off in a flash. And it was up to him to bring back the EDF cavalry before all hell finished breaking loose in the Roamer shipyards.
Chapter 87—ANTON COLICOS
After dragging themselves along for so many days, the desperate Marathan survivors seized the hope that rescue waited for them at Secda. “Follow me!” Designate Avi’h pointed toward the city. “The robots will assist us. They are expecting our arrival.”
Holding back, Anton called to his companions as they bounded toward the bustling complex that swarmed with Klikiss robots. “Be careful! We need to understand what—”
But the Ildirans grasped at any strand of hope. The Designate raced to the Secda city site, shouting and waving his arms. The burly digger Vik’k and the normally logical engineer Nur’of hurried beside him. Even Rememberer Vao’sh pulled ahead toward the familiar Klikiss robots.
Anton ran forward and grabbed his arm. “Wait a second, Vao’sh. Look at what they’re doing down there.”
The colors on the rememberer’s facial lobes flickered through a storm of uncertainty. “We’ve walked across half a continent, Rememberer Anton. I see shelter and light and protection. Why do you hesitate?”
The human historian jabbed a finger toward the numerous tunnels and openings, the mounds of geometrical structures that reminded him of a sinister wasps’ nest growing out of control. “That isn’t what Secda is supposed to look like. Something’s not right here!”
But the frightened rememberer pulled his arm free, unable to resist the call of hope. “We will gain our answers as soon as the Designate speaks to the robots. Come! We must not fall behind.” Vao’sh ran ahead, and, despite his own reservations, Anton followed.
After the terrors they had endured across the night-strangled landscape, Anton could understand that the Marathan survivors might become