Dead Space by Kali Wallace (e novels to read online .TXT) 📗

it looked like a contagion spreading through the belt. More than ten thousand dead in the first phase was considered suboptimal. How very fucking humanitarian of them.

That first phase was due to begin in about a month. Right now they were in the final prelaunch push.

Mary Ping’s plan was different. Her mission brief to the AI was the same—go, and take control—but the targets were different. The first target on her list was Hygiea. The second was Badenia, home to Parthenope’s medical center and jointly operated shipyard. The third was Friederike, on which Parthenope co-owned a major transportation hub with Hunter-Fremont and a few other companies.

Parthenope stations. Parthenope territory. Starting with the company’s central facility and working down the line. All to be infiltrated and seized and placed under the attacking AI’s control. That was what Mary Ping had been targeting with her plan. She had set up a first wave of attacks to launch before the others. Which, if it worked as she intended, would have meant that when the rest of the attacks launched, they would not be bringing the seized stations under Parthenope’s central company command, but under no human control at all. She wanted the AIs to be in charge.

She had told me as much in the warehouse, right before she died. You created something beautiful and powerful, she had said. You know we can be so much better, if we let them show us the way.

She did not seem to have planned beyond that initial takeover. Her mission timeline did not include predictions for what happened when dozens of independent AIs were fighting for control of stations and colonies that were home to tens of thousands of people.

“For fuck’s sake,” I said. “That would be absolute fucking chaos.”

Outside the window, Vanguard ducked its triangle head, its long swan-like neck curving downward. It had been listening to me all the while its physical form was fighting off the spiders.

“Oh, kiddo,” I said. “I know. I get it. I know you don’t want to do that. I’m not mad at you.”

It shook its head again and moved its forelimbs side to side again, that gesture of apology it had learned from Michael.

A spider scurried across the inner window, leaving a trail of something damp and shimmering behind it. I watched it until it disappeared from sight, then cleared my throat. I wanted a drink of water so badly I thought I might cry, but there was none in my pack.

“Okay, we need a plan of our own,” I said. “There has to be a way we can both get out of here. And the others, if they’re not dead already.” A pair of spiders ignited outside the door. I jumped nervously and winced as the metal bolts strained with the impact. “Help me. What can we do?”

Vanguard, it turned out, already had a plan. It showed me another map, not of the asteroid belt, not of the Hygiea group, but of this base and only this base, a pockmark on the side of the lumpy potato that was Nimue.

It showed me the protective sphere it had built around its own brain.

It showed me a network of carefully positioned explosive charges. It had moved them into place when it had built the sphere. Another layer of protection against its kidnappers. Always looking forward. Always anticipating the moment when everything went wrong. Its intent was clear.

It showed me a start time and a countdown.

It would happen very fast, once it began.

“No,” I said. “Absolutely not. That is not an option. We’ll find another way.”

Another couple of spiders raced across the window, leaving trails of fuel. Bug leapt after them, grabbed and crushed them, but not quite fast enough. One of the spiders self-destructed in a shower of sparks and a whip of bright blue flame. The fuel ignited immediately, slashing across the window in lines of brilliant fire, and the glass creaked ominously. The praying mantis reappeared in the window a second later.

“I know,” I said. “I know you’ve been doing some fucked-up stuff. It’s not your fault.” I reached out to touch the glass, right where it was looking through at me. “But we can both get away from here. And all the others too. I’ve got an idea.”

TWENTY-FIVE

We have to work fast,” I said.

I didn’t know how much time we had. If Sigrah was able to break into this room, we were out of time. If she was able to wrest control of enough weapons away from Vanguard, we were out of time. She had already demonstrated she was perfectly happy to sacrifice lives and commit a great deal of corporate property damage to protect the base—but protecting the base meant protecting the AI that ran it. She wanted to get me out of here. She didn’t want to destroy Vanguard.

“There are ten people that need to get deep into the transport tunnels,” I said. “Back to the station, if possible. The Overseer will protect them.”

I kept working as I talked. Vanguard could listen to both my terminal and verbal commands. I couldn’t see Bug through the window anymore; it was busy elsewhere, trying to keep the onslaught of spiders away. Every time one slipped past and launched itself at the window or door I flinched, convinced that would be the time they broke through.

I went on, “And most of them are unconscious, thanks to you. The door needs to be closed behind them. Plus any other doors—are there even other doors along the transport route? There must be security doors, if this place has been locked up.” I was rambling now, my thoughts and words tumbling together. “Anyway, they all need to be closed, with everybody safe on the other side. What can you do?”

In a blink, one of the screens switched to a bewildering segmented view of the factory. It looked like what a bee might see, and for a few confused