City 1 (18 page)

IN A DAZE, KEVIN LET HIMSELF BE LED BACK TO CAMP. THE RESCUED
prisoners, his parents included, were sent off to be triaged by Doc and Sarah. Ro, Nick, and Kevin were brought directly to Grennel's tent.

Grennel stood when they entered, his head touching the tent ceiling. “Well done,” he said, shaking Ro's hand, and then Nick's. He nodded at Kevin. “I'm glad to see you're okay,” he said.

“No lases in the back, if that's what you were worried about,” Kevin said.

Grennel smiled thinly. “Right. Of course.” He sat down on the cot, and gestured toward three chairs. “Sit. Talk to me. Injuries? Number of rescued? How many bots did you face? How good was Erica's intel?”

Ro cleared his throat, and began to speak, but Kevin interrupted him. “Where's Clay?” he said. “How come she's not the one talking to us?”

“She's dead,” Grennel said. He hesitated. “Erica killed her.”

Kevin tried to absorb the information. He didn't think it was possible for Clay to die. He nodded, and looked Grennel in the eyes. “Good,” he said.

There was a silence in the tent, as Grennel stared at Kevin. Finally he turned to Ro. “Report, please,” he said.

Ro cleared his throat again, and gave Grennel the details of the fight—no major injuries to the rebels, eleven rescued, one prisoner killed, light bot resistance before their retreat to City 1 proper.

“And the rescued,” Grennel said. “Any of them Erica's brother?”

“We've found a boy, who looks like her, but he was too hurt to talk and he's with the medic now—we're hoping he pulls through,” Ro said.

Grennel gave a small nod of his head and dismissed Ro. Kevin stuck around—he still couldn't take in the turn of events.

“You'll be happy to know that the prisoner killed was my grandfather,” said Kevin. “The bots finished your job.”

Grennel leaned forward, his massive frame seeming to take over the entire tent. “I'm sorry for your grandfather's death, Kevin. And I'm sorry for what I did on the Island. I
was doing what I thought was necessary to fight the bots.” He leaned back. “I'm not expecting your forgiveness. But the General is dead, and I'm going to do my best to lead. I need your cooperation.”

Kevin hesitated. He never would forgive Grennel, that was true. “Are you going to be like her?” he said. “Like Clay?”

Grennel was silent for a long moment, then shook his head. “No,” he said.

Kevin nodded. “Okay, then. I can live with that.”

“Thank you,” said Grennel. He leaned back. “Now, Kevin, tell me what happened to you.”

Kevin began to talk, quietly and hesitantly at first, then faster. He described his failed trip into City 73, his camouflage vest being ruined, his capture and trip on the warbird. He told Grennel about the Senior Advisor, how it considered their grandfather family, how it ate and then spit out the food because it couldn't swallow. And then he explained the replication block code, and how their grandfather had helped the bots break it, and finally, in a flat voice, he told Grennel about how he had given away the secrets of the cloaking technology. “I'm sorry,” he said, finishing. “They were going to hurt my mom and dad, and Grandfather.”

Grennel sat quietly, absorbing the information, his face unreadable. He stood and began pacing back and forth in the small tent, his head nearly touching the ceiling. “We can't wait for them to start building more bots,” he said. “Damn it.” He
stopped pacing. “It's going to take them a bit of time to ramp up production. We've got no choice. We need to take the fight to this Senior Advisor right now. We've got to go after them, while we still have the chance.” He sat back down. “Two days, to draw our forces together, and then we march on City 1.”

CASS LED PENNY AND FARRYN BACK TOWARD CITY 73, HOPING THAT THE
rebels were still nearby. It took two days, during which Penny barely spoke, and when they finally arrived at the camp they found only twenty men and women, packing up their gear and preparing to depart. Her brothers, and Lexi, were not there.

“You got here just in time,” said a rebel whom Cass recognized, a tall woman with dark brown skin and long black hair pulled back into a braid. “New General put the word out that it's all hands on deck, southeast of here about a day and a half.”

“New General?” said Cass.

“Clay got herself blown up,” the woman said, and shrugged. “Can't say I shed a lot of tears.”

Cass felt a strange mix of emotions. She was shocked,
mostly. It didn't seem possible that Clay was dead; the woman was too damned tough to die. Cass certainly didn't feel like crying, either—Clay had been cruel, and ruthless, and as dangerous as a snake—but Cass wasn't exactly happy. Clay had been a horrible person, but she had been a leader. She had fought hard against the bots, and that was something.

The rebels broke camp and began their hike, and Cass, Penny, and Farryn went with them. Penny still wasn't talking, despite Cass's gentle efforts, and eventually Cass just let her be.

The next evening they arrived at the rendezvous. Cass's first thought was surprise at the numbers—there had to be nearly five hundred men and women camped among the trees, on a ridgeline overlooking a river. And then she caught a glimpse of Lexi, and she began to run, leaving Farryn and Penny behind. “Lexi!” she called, and Lexi turned, confused, then broke into a grin a moment before Cass skidded to a stop in front of her and crushed her in a hug.

A few minutes later she was hugging Kevin and Nick. She hadn't realized how tightly wound she had been, ever since leaving them, until she saw their faces and felt herself relax. They were okay. They had stayed alive. She had found them.

And then she saw her parents, and she froze, and burst into tears. She couldn't even move to go hug them. Her father pulled her against his chest, and she held on tight, and for the first time since the day her Freepost had been attacked, she felt safe.

“Your mom's not quite right yet,” her father whispered.

“It's okay,” Cass said. “You're here. You're both here.”

They stayed up late into the night, exchanging stories, catching one another up, and Penny was quiet and shy but let Cass hold her hand. In the morning, after only a few hours of sleep, Cass woke with her parents and Penny and Farryn and Lexi and her brothers nearby. The camp was already buzzing with activity as the rebels geared up for the attack on City 1. Cass felt calm. After all they had been through, her family was back together. And they were going to stay together now, she was certain.

The rebels broke camp, following the river a half mile, then turning north, away from the water, to where the terrain opened onto a treeless plain that was bisected by a gray two-lane road. From what Nick had told her last night, it would be another two miles from here to the City edge, where they would separate into three groups and fan out to attack from the west, north, and south.

It's almost over
, she thought, as they hiked along the road.
One last fight.

And then the sky to the east filled with dark, fast-moving clouds. Cass was confused and then she realized—
warbirds.
Someone screamed, “Bots! Cover!” over the wrist comms and everyone around her sprang into movement.

The rebels sprinted for tree cover to the north and south. Cass grabbed her mother's arm and yelled,
“Trees!”
to her dad. She began running, as fast as her mother would go, to get off the road. Farryn hurried behind her, his limp slowing him
down only slightly, and Cass's father was just a step behind. Nick and Kevin and Lexi were somewhere up ahead, and Cass prayed that they were getting to safety.

A warbird sliced overhead in a humming black streak and then there was a
whump
and an explosion of heat and light behind her. Someone screamed in pain, and Cass saw a body flying through the air in her peripheral vision. She staggered but kept her balance, and managed to keep running, somehow hanging on to her mother's arm.

There was another explosion, off to the east, near the lead group of rebels, and then another, and then the sound of lase fire. She risked a quick glance over her shoulder, and she saw three rebels lying on the pavement, bloody, broken. The warbots were coming up the road, a hulking gray line, lases firing, fanning out to pursue the rebels into the trees. There were hundreds of them.

Her mother stumbled, and Cass had to slow down to help her keep her balance. Cass looked back to the west, their line of retreat, and her heart stopped. Warbots were coming up from behind. The bots had waited for them to get to the road, then surrounded them.

Cass pulled out her pistol and squeezed off two wild shots at the advancing bots that sailed harmlessly into the air above their heads. Pulling her mother along, she went crashing into the cover, desperately looking for a defensible spot, somewhere they could make a stand.

NICK ZOOMED IN ON THE FLECKS OF BLACK IN THE SKY.
“NO,”
HE
whispered. He tapped the broad comm line on his wrist bracelet and yelled, “Bots! Cover!”

Lexi took off for the trees, and Nick gave Kevin a shove. Kevin began running.

The column of soldier bots were moving quickly up the road. The warbirds screamed past overhead and the explosions began. Nick fell to his knees, catching himself with his hands and skinning his palms. He pulled himself up and ran for the trees.

This was all wrong. The bots had never come at them with these numbers before—he risked a glance over his shoulder, and saw the rows and rows of bots. There were hundreds.
He looked back down the road and he saw the bots coming up from behind, hundreds more blocking their retreat, and he almost stumbled from shock. The bots had circled around behind them.

They were trapped.

The lase fire began, and Nick ducked into a crouch as he ran. He squeezed off bursts from his rifle, wild shots because he didn't have the chance to sight properly, but the mass of soldier bots was so thick that his shots found targets anyway. He saw one of his lase bursts hit a bot in the chest. It staggered back, but kept coming.

Blasts of lase fire crackled past. Nick felt their heat, and he heard the screams of the rebels who had been hit. He willed himself to move faster. The treeline wasn't far, and if he could reach it he'd be able to find a spot to defend. Ahead of him he saw a lase blast strike Kevin in the ankle and heard his brother cry out as he went down hard.

“Kevin!” Nick yelled, and veered toward him, but Lexi got to him first. She hauled him to his feet and threw his arm over her shoulder, pulling him toward the trees. Nick reached them and took Kevin's other arm. He took most of Kevin's weight as he and Lexi half carried, half dragged him to cover.

“It burns!” Kevin said.

“There are so many!” Lexi gasped as she staggered forward. “Too many!”

Nick didn't answer. She was right. There were far too many.
He felt a strange moment of something almost like embarrassment. He really had thought they were going to beat the bots. Save the world. Nick and this sad little band of rebels. He had been so wrong—the bots were going to kill them all.

They reached the trees and carried Kevin another twenty yards. Nick saw an overturned tree and steered them behind it. Lexi hunkered down next to him, tucking herself as low as she could. She braced her rifle against the tree trunk.

“The generator,” Kevin said, trying to shrug out of his pack.

Nick pulled the pack off Kevin's shoulders and dug out the Wall unit. He set it on the ground, then shrugged out of his camouflage vest and held it out to Kevin. “Put it on,” he said.

“Hell no!” said Kevin.

“You can't move! Put on the damned vest!” yelled Nick.

Angrily Kevin grabbed the vest and put it on. He picked up the Wall generator, flipped a switch, checked the readout, and then set it down on the ground next to him. He hit the switch on his vest, and disappeared.

“Thank you,” Nick said. “If it gets real bad, get out of here.”

Kevin didn't reply. For an irrational moment Nick thought that Kevin was already gone, but then he heard Kevin shifting his weight on the ground.

Nick lay down next to Lexi, his rifle propped up on the log. He inched closer to Lexi, so their shoulders were touching. She leaned into him, and her weight was comforting. Lase bursts crackled through the trees. A warbird hummed past overhead.

A bot appeared through the foliage and Nick released a full burst that caught it squarely on the chest. It staggered, and then Lexi and Kevin hit it with full bursts as well, and the bot went down.

Nick held his breath as he waited for his rifle to recharge. He was going to die, he knew it—there were just too many damned bots.

THE SENIOR ADVISOR MONITORED THE BATTLE FROM HIS OFFICE A FEW
miles away in City 1. He tracked four different screens that were cycling between the video feeds of the scout bots on the ground, and followed the data stream of twenty soldiers from both the front assault and the rear squad that had circled around the humans to cut off their retreat.

The initial analysis of the outcome was extremely satisfactory.

The Senior Advisor had been free to throw the majority of his forces at these rebels to ensure victory. Two days ago he had uploaded his father's replication code patch system-wide. With the Senior Advisor's failsafes and firewalls it had taken nearly a day for the patch to work its way through his network
and be installed in every unit. But it was done, and yesterday his factories were finally back online and new artificial intelligence units were already beginning to roll out.

So the time for careful hoarding of his assets was over. There would be no more coddling these humans. No more loss of Cities. No more patience. Their leader was already dead, killed by that foolish, useful female human who had been so easy to manipulate. The rest of the rebellious humans were outnumbered, and trapped, and soon enough, within a half hour, they would all be dead.

He had decided against capture and re-education; it was time for a true purge of these violent revolutionaries. It was time, he had realized, for a new beginning. Time once and for all to squash the rebellious instincts that some humans insisted on maintaining. The Senior Advisor had never really understood it, although he had tried. They were better off within the structured society of his Cities—they were safe, fed, clothed. Why did some resist?

He would establish a mandatory, stringent re-education process for all humans. Many would not survive the process, unfortunately, but some would, and these would be true, compliant, peaceful Citizens.

In the end, his father had understood and helped. It made the Senior Advisor feel . . . what was it? Satisfaction? Vindication? Gratitude? It was regrettable that his father had had to be killed, but he had served his purpose.

The Senior Advisor called his warbirds off the battlefield; with his soldiers engaged on the ground, the air attack was no longer useful. He took a moment to aggregate his various data streams and estimate numbers on the ground . . . approximately fifty rebels had already been killed, while only eight of his units had been destroyed.

He leaned back in his chair, and decided to smile.

And then his bots began to retreat.

The Senior Advisor surged to his feet. His first thought was that his data feeds were somehow compromised, and he ran diagnostics—no, the feeds were fine. His soldiers were in a wild retreat, scattering in every direction, despite the fact that they outnumbered the humans four to one.

He patched in to his squadron leaders, demanding an explanation, relaying the command to regroup, rejoin the battle, complete their objective, but his commands were ignored. He focused on one squad leader, and patched deeper, and the data he received was so shocking, so . . . unrobotic.

The squad leader was afraid. It didn't want to die.

The Senior Advisor shifted focus to another unit, and received the same data, and then tried a third, receiving the same results.

The Senior Advisor again relayed his commands, and again was ignored. He patched deeper into the squad leader, analyzing the operating system, on a hunch focusing in on the replication code patch . . . and yes . . . there it was . . . a hidden splice of extra code.

The Senior Advisor sat down. He felt something . . . anger. And something else . . . fear? His father had used the replication code patch as a carrier. He had given the robots the same heightened sense of self-awareness that the Senior Advisor enjoyed, except they weren't sufficiently sophisticated to handle this . . . emotion.

It crippled them with the overwhelming primary objective to stay alive.

The Senior Advisor tried once more to issue a blanket command, and even awkwardly tried to offer reassurance
—our numbers and tactical position are superior . . . damage to robotic units will be minimal—
but he was ignored.

He shut down his data feeds from the battle. He linked to his City 1 network, calling for an attendant to ready a transport, but received no response, as he had known he would not. He regretted being quite so thorough in his upload.

He sighed, and stood. There was only one thing left he could do.