Scattered Suns - Kevin J. Anderson [79]
“Their systems are remarkably well preserved,” Jack said, tinkering with an opening in the ellipsoidal body core. “Even in this cold and after what must surely be centuries, they all appear functional.” He grinned through his faceplate. “I tell you, we can learn a lot from these things, if we take one apart.”
Purcell said, “Kotto would be drooling over this.”
“I’m sure he’s perfectly satisfied with that hydrogue derelict,” Cesca said. “You’ll have to take a crack at it, Jack.”
“I wouldn’t turn down the opportunity.” With a handheld thermal lamp, the cryoengineer warmed the ice that covered an exposed part on the Klikiss robot’s torso and adjusted what seemed to be control diagnostics until he caught an unexpected flicker of light, a spark of activity. “Shizz, I don’t know what that was, but jump-starting these things might be easier than I thought.”
Suddenly the robot’s cluster of glassy eyes lit up, burning red in the cold tunnel. The machinery hummed. “Hey, that did the trick.” Jack stood up.
The geometrical head turned. The humming grew louder. Behind it, a second robot and then a third also began to stir. Scarlet optical sensors brightened as they focused on the suited man in front of them.
“Okay, now what do we do, Purcell?” Danvier said, standing behind Cesca and the acting administrator. “We’re about to have a situation here.”
“I, uh, I defer to the Speaker.”
Before Cesca could say anything, the first robot shifted its body. Access ports in the front of its armored torso cracked and then slid open, revealing several mechanical arms that were tucked away inside the protected core.
Jack leaned closer. “Now that’s—”
One of the clawed arms shot out of its socket like a rapidly fired piston. It slammed into Jack’s faceplate, smashing through. The front of the cryoengineer’s helmet burst open with an explosion of vented atmosphere that turned instantly to steam. The robot’s pronged arm rotated like a furious drill. Blood, skin, and bone sprayed outward in a shower. Jack didn’t even have time to scream.
The awakened Klikiss robot lurched on a set of stubby fingerlike legs. Behind it, two other active robots began to move. From deeper in the storage tunnels, myriad sets of red lights began to shine like the eyes of a dragon waking up from a long sleep.
Danvier stumbled forward screaming, far too late to rescue the cryoengineer crumpled in a bloody mass on the icy floor. In an instant the vapor miner realized his own danger as the first three robots scuttled toward him. Before Danvier could turn, each extended a nightmarish set of articulated robot arms tipped with various sharp tools and manipulators. The Klikiss robots closed around him as he tried to scramble away. His boots skidded on the slick floor of the tunnel.
Everything happened in the space of a heartbeat. Seizing him, the robots clawed, tore, and pummeled. They ripped Danvier’s suit, slashed the protective fabric, crushed his helmet. Unlike his partner, the vapor miner had plenty of time to scream until the robots cut off his suit transmitter.
Cesca was already grabbing Purcell’s arm to yank him out of his shock. “We’ve got to get back to the grazer!”
While the robots finished their swift butchery, dozens more stirred from their paralysis and began to move, setting off in pursuit.
Chapter 37—KOTTO OKIAH
Alone aboard the intriguing hydrogue derelict, Kotto had only KR and GU, his two technically rated compies, for company. Though his fascination with the alien technology did not wane, the complete lack of clues—even about where to start—was frustrating. Since this was a spaceship, there had to be complex machinery embedded somewhere, but he could find no moving parts.
“Quite a conundrum, GU,” he said.
“Yes, Kotto Okiah. That is an appropriate use of the word.” When the engineer first reported his confusing observations, the little compy had inadvertently introduced him to the new term. For all his technical expertise and years of