Up Against It - M. J. Locke [89]
They two moved swiftly through the netting. Near one edge they paused to catch their breaths. Geoff saw they were already halfway there. Ian and Amaya had taken a different route and had almost reached the assemblyworks. Moriarty was nowhere to be seen. Some of the machines were moving below; they were definitely tracking them.
“I have an idea!” Kamal said. “Follow me.”
Kam launched himself at one of the machines—bounded off it, picking up its momentum—and went toward the assemblyworks. Geoff followed suit. They sprang down into the netting, and made their way over the vat racks as fast as they could. An acrid-sweet smell rose around them.
“Look!” Kam pointed. “Machines.”
The vats were made of some translucent material, and they could see the contents—the smelly, milky assembly-bug solution—churning inside. Machines moved between the vats, but their activities seemed innocuous.
“I think we’re OK. Hurry!”
Kam alighted on the floor behind the vats, in an area shielded from general view. Geoff alighted. Nearby he spotted a sign for the maintenance shop. Inside, they found Ian and Amaya pulling equipment from the maintenance lockers.
“Where’s Moriarty?”
“Here,” the old man said, entering. He shut the maintenance door behind him and locked it. He was out of breath, and his forehead had a deep gash. Blood dribbled down his face. He limped over and sat to pull off his shoes.
“What happened?”
“I ran afoul of the machines. I think the feral must recognize me as a particular threat. Maybe my conversation earlier with Jane. So, I took a loader out, and confirmed its suspicions.”
While Amaya and Ian lofted over to grab radios, lights, and tools, Geoff and Kamal pulled survival suits, sticky-boots, and pony bottles from the racks. They all rushed through assembly and checks, bumping around the room like billiards. Meanwhile, Moriarty talked.
“Any of you ever been in the Hollow before?”
They all shook their heads.
“OK. Out on the Hub, where the surface lists and the Klosti Alpha cable leave Zekeston, is a xaser mounted next to the surface lift tracks. That xaser beams the city’s network signals through a big conduit, up through the rock to the surface. We are going to take out the power source for that—or, if necessary, the xaser itself.
“Our threat is the fleet of maintenance ROVs out on the city’s hull. They’re big motherfuckers, and they have some features that can be used as pretty nasty weapons. But they aren’t very fast or smart. You all suited up? Good. With pony bottles to supplement air intake, we’ll have a good twenty minutes or more if we need it.”
“We’re going to ride our ponies?” Kam squeaked. “Out on the city hull? Fighting bad guys?”
“Ponies are all we need,” Moriarty replied. “Ponies will make us all a lot more agile, and if we can’t take out the transmission lines in the next ten to twelve minutes, it’ll be too late anyway. Besides which, there’s a little air out there. Your mask apparatus will make use of it to extend your pony’s life.”
“There’s air in the Hollow?” Ian repeated.
Amaya said, “No duh. What rock did you grow up on?” Ian made a face at her.
“Wait a minute,” Geoff said. “If there’s air, how come we need pony bottles, and how come everyone is always worried about the city getting decompressed?”
“Because Hollow pressure is only two hundred eighty millibars, and the temperature is minus ten. It won’t kill you right away, but you’ll be out of commission—spending all your time getting enough air to keep you alive, and not dying of hypothermia—or getting brained by one of the spin generators—before someone rescues your ass.”
Geoff asked, “How many machines are we up against?”
“Three dozen. Like I said, they’re big and powerful, but they move pretty slow.