The Ashes of Worlds - Kevin J. Anderson [36]
His two compy protégés, PD and QT, followed with brisk footsteps. At an access port to the base’s central computers, QT worked to connect to the systems. “Roamers often have fail-safes rigged to their computers. We must be cautious.” He paused. “Yes, an electrical and radiation pulse is poised to erase all stored information in the event of a security breach.”
Sirix spun his flat head plate. “Can you deactivate it to allow a scan of the database?”
“Yes.” The compies sounded anxious to please.
“Then do so.”
Because both compies were familiar with Roamer systems from previous conquests, PD and QT worked together until they had deactivated the automatic purging protocols. “We now have access to the data summaries, inventories, and lists of known facilities.”
While robot squads continued to explore the asteroid tunnels, rooting out the last few frantic survivors and killing them, the two compies took turns rattling off statistics about how many ships came and went to the asteroid outpost, how many metric tons of various ores were shipped away annually, how much raw metal the processing plants produced.
PD asked brightly, “Is this place acceptable, Sirix?”
“No, it is not.” He was very disappointed. His crimson optical sensors glowed a deep ruby shade in contrast to the still-flashing scarlet emergency lights. “This is a bulk-processing plant designed to produce large sheets of alloys, heavy girders, construction ingots. This facility does not have the technological sophistication we require.”
With each disappointing result, he grew more desperate. Circumstances beyond Sirix’s control had led to defeat after defeat, and most of the original black robots had been annihilated in recent battles. Very little of his massive army and only a few dozen of the stolen EDF battleships remained intact. His options had seemed quite limited until the two naïve compies had suggested their bold and previously unthinkable scheme.
Given facilities with proper technical sophistication, they could build more black robots, new ones, to replace the ranks of those that had fallen. Even though the new-generation robots would not have the vital memories and experiences of the lost originals, they would still replenish his army. Sirix could use them to complete his plans.
However, manufacturing new Klikiss robots was not as simple as constructing a spacecraft or a clumsy habitation dome. The fabrication process required extreme sophistication. Forrey’s Folly was inadequate. This entire operation had been a waste of Sirix’s time.
Flexing his fingerlike leg clusters, Sirix stepped over two human bodies that blocked the rough floor of the deep tunnel. He turned back to the two compies. “Search all the information in their databases for any other outposts and assess their capabilities in advance. Find me a place to manufacture my robots.”
“Yes, Sirix,” PD and QT said in unison.
“The Roamers themselves will point us to our next target.”
When the two compies came to report to him on the bridge of his ship, Sirix could tell they were pleased. “Have you found an acceptable alternative?”
PD presented a datapad, and QT spoke up. “We suggest Relleker. It is a former Hansa world with a very desirable climate. Hydrogues destroyed the settlement and killed every colonist. Roamers recently returned there to establish an extensive base, now that they are safe from the hydrogues.”
“They are not safe from my robots,” Sirix said. “Why do you believe this place will be satisfactory?”
“The Roamers have installed a new industrial grid with many capable workers and cutting-edge technology,” PD said. “The data indicates that their fabrication plants are excellent.”
“So they believe,” Sirix said. “Let us see Relleker for ourselves. If it proves adequate, we will seize it and begin our work.” He studied the report.