Machine World (Undying Mercenaries Book 4) (33 page)

Eventually, I had the machine performing a wide range of tricks. I even managed to have a primitive conversation with it. We’d established that the squids and the machines were interacting, but when this little guy drew the squids, it was with a chain connected to the machines. He didn’t seem to be under any illusions. The machines were slaves to the squids, not friends or allies.

“It makes sense,” I said. “The squids consider themselves conquerors. They enslave creatures and alter them. Back on Dust World, they did it with humans. Here, they’ve been doing it with these machines. I wonder if these machines have been altered in design to better meet the squid requirements.”

“That would be easier than doing it with selective breeding, you would think,” Kivi said.

“Yeah, maybe. But we don’t even know how these creatures reproduce yet.”

“Why don’t you draw two machines screwing?” Carlos asked. “Maybe that will jog this little pervert’s mind.”

“You’re the pervert,” Kivi said.

“You should know.”

I had to step in before Carlos got himself punched again—by Kivi this time. “Okay, okay, that’s enough. Let’s stay on task. How does this translation box you stole from the squids work?”

They showed me an odd device. It wasn’t entirely made of metal. Parts of it were slimy, like gelatin or thick, pasty oil. When you rubbed it in various ways, the thing produced odd, rasping sounds. The machine took note when we worked the interface, but didn’t respond in any sensible way.

“How the hell are we supposed to figure out what this device is saying?” I asked.

“Now you know why we’re still working on this,” Kivi said.

“Hmm. We should probably bring Natasha in at this point. You guys probably should have as soon as you found this thing. She’s better at this stuff than I am.”

“No!” Kivi shouted. “You promised, James! Natasha will hog everything.”

“Look,” I said, “we might be able to get help from the machines if we figure this out. Isn’t that more important than a promotion?”

“Not really,” Kivi said stubbornly. “You’ve already got rank, James. This is our best shot.”

“But we might all die down here,” I said. “The saurians are going to attack, and they outnumber us six to one.”

“Leeson said they’ll get trashed if they try to come in here,” Carlos said.

“And you believed him?”

“No, not really,” he admitted. He turned to Kivi, looking disappointed. “He might be right, Kivi. We’ve failed.”

“I know what this is about,” Kivi said with sudden anger. “You’re just trying to make Natasha happy again. She found out about Della and Anne, didn’t she?”

I heaved a sigh and walked out of the tunnel. “I’ll be back in about an hour,” I said. “If you can make it talk by then, you’ll get full credit. Have at it.”

I left them behind, cursing my name.

When I returned with Natasha, it was a full ninety minutes later. Kivi was there, but Carlos had gone.

So had the machine.

“What happened?” I asked, shaking my head.

“We tried everything,” Kivi said. “We were desperate. Carlos thought this was the last chance we had to get credit for the discovery.”

“You guys are crazy,” Natasha said. “Kivi, you just have to go through the training and show aptitude. When a slot opens up and your skill level is high, you’ll get it. Advancement isn’t always about showing off for brass.”

“Oh yeah? Is that why McGill, the biggest screw-up in the legion, is two ranks above us? And what about Winslade? Are you telling me he’s not a royal kiss-up?”

She had us there, so Natasha stopped arguing. She examined the squid translation box. I’d honestly assumed that when she checked it out, she’d pronounce it to be a squid masturbation aid, or something like that. But she didn’t.

“I think this
is
a translation system. It produces sounds like a machine. The interface is strange, but not unlike those that I’ve seen before. Now, why did you let the machine go, Kivi?”

“Like I said, we were getting desperate. The machine wasn’t reacting much other than to draw a few shapes on the ground. We finally realized that it was drawing things that matched the noises the translator was making.”

“Ah,” I said, catching on. “Did you feed it titanium shavings?”

“Yes, once we figured it out.”

Together, Natasha and I examined the drawings. There were dozens of them.

“Did you record this?” Natasha asked. “Do we have data to analyze?”

“Yes,” Kivi said. “I’m not an idiot.”

“But what happened to Carlos?” I demanded.

Kivi looked down, shamed. “We ran out of room on the floor. It was at the limits of its chain. We decided to cut the chain, to let it have more space. We figured it would stay because we were feeding it titanium.”

“Let me guess,” I said. “The second you cut the chain, it took off.”

“Not exactly. It waited until we ran out of chips.”

I rolled my eyes. “So Carlos is chasing after it?”

“I made him go. It was his stupid idea to cut the chain in the first place.”

“All right, I’d better go find him,” I said.

I left the two women going over the remaining data. Kivi had meticulously recorded the interactions, matching sounds and drawings. She also had many vids of past efforts to communicate, which she grudgingly passed over to Natasha’s tapper. I was happy to see them working together. Natasha was wisely heaping Kivi with praise, and Kivi’s mistrust seemed to be melting.

The trail left behind by Carlos and the chain-dragging machine wasn’t difficult to follow. I found them less than a kilometer farther down in the tunnels.

Unfortunately, the scene wasn’t a happy one. Carlos was dead, with his faceplate cracked open. He’d asphyxiated.

The machine was perched on his chest, feasting on the metal bits in his suit.

-45-

The disastrous result of our communication attempts was probably a good lesson for me. I’d come to think of these machines—the small, young ones at least—as harmless. But they weren’t. They were like wild animal cubs. It was so easy to forget they were predatory creatures. Just like any lion cub or bear cub, they’d eat you if they could.

I almost killed the machine. It would have been fairly easy to do. Unlike Carlos, I had a heavy beamer on me. I unslung it and aimed it at the head-section of the animal—that’s how I thought of these machines now, as semi-intelligent animals—but I didn’t fire.

The baby machine didn’t flee. Instead, it made a rasping sound. It might have been growling, telling me to get lost. A large number of its cameras studied me, and it kept on chewing while it did so. The machine was feeding, but it wasn’t eating Carlos. That would have been too much for me. It was eating his suit. That’s all it had wanted, after all.

The poor thing had been starved and abused for who knew how long down here in these tunnels. I could hardly expect civilized discourse after the squids and Carlos had kept it on a chain. Would it be possible to negotiate with these creatures later, when we weren’t fighting over who was going to steal their resources? Maybe. One thing was for sure, killing them for eating metal wouldn’t help bring peace.

“All right,” I said stepping closer and prodding at its hindquarters. “I’m not going to hurt you, but you have to move on. Scram.”

The machine was unconvinced. It rasped and whirled on me, threateningly. It was like a feral dog, snarling over a carcass. I gave it a kick, and it tried to bite my foot. I knew as long as I didn’t let it get to my faceplate, I was going to be all right. The thing hadn’t killed Carlos directly. His faceplate had cracked and the air was poisonous, which was the only reason he’d succumbed.

But I couldn’t very well let it chew on Carlos’ air tanks forever. That was just going to teach it the wrong thing. So I cranked down the power level on my weapon and gave it a jolt in the butt. Just enough to spot-weld its hind plates together.

It didn’t like that at all. It lunged at me, and I zapped it twice more. Finally, the creature got the message and ran off into the dark tunnels.

Grabbing Carlos by the collar, I dragged him back to the chamber where Natasha had been working with Kivi. They looked at Carlos in horror—but they didn’t seem all that surprised.

“I’ve got the data off his tapper,” I said. “He’ll catch a revive when I report his death to the bio people.”

“Did you kill the machine?” Natasha asked.

“No—it wasn’t really at fault. The poor thing was only hungry.”

Natasha looked worried, as did Kivi.

“What’s up?” I asked.

“I don’t know if allowing it to escape was a good idea,” Natasha said. “I’ve been examining the vids of the communication attempts made by Carlos and Kivi. At the end of them, the machine clearly understood something they said. That’s when it ran off.”

“So, something you communicated made it flee?”

“We think so,” Kivi admitted.

“Whatever it was,” Natasha said, “I’m certain Carlos and Kivi managed to give the machine a coherent message. But I’m not sure what was said.”

“That’s just grand,” I said, giving Kivi a scowl. “Let’s hope you didn’t tell them they could all go to Hell in a hand-basket.”

“It could have been anything,” Kivi said defensively. “Why are you two assuming the worst?”

“Whatever the message was, it can’t be good,” Natasha said. “It clearly triggered aggression.”

Kivi looked worried, but she shrugged rather than apologizing.

“Do you need to keep working here, Natasha?” I asked.

“No. Without the machine, this particular spot has no special significance. I can take the device with me and review the data anywhere.”

“Then let’s get back up to the main camp. I need to report Carlos’ death, anyway.”

We trudged up the tunnels, dragging Carlos’ body the whole way. It occurred to me that in times past, a fallen soldier had been treated with great respect and honor. Those days were gone. A body was just a body in my time. We recycled them as fast as possible, sometimes burying them in mass graves or even burning a stack to get rid of them physically. The equipment was what we really needed. The dead were only useful as raw materials for a new body if supplies were short and the corpse was fresh enough.

After delivering Carlos’ body to the bio people, who wrinkled their noses and hauled it dutifully away, I returned to my unit’s camp. I relayed my findings to Graves, including our previous discoveries of oversized squids and the data-globe. He ordered me to talk to Winslade about everything.

Sighing, I walked up gritty ramps and tunnels to the lofty caverns high up in the mountain’s guts. I hadn’t wanted to do this. I’d planned to let Kivi and Carlos get their act together and make the report themselves, thus garnering the credit. But in my opinion the situation had changed. We were encircled by enemies and in danger. Secrets withheld from our commanders might get us all permed. I had the duty to report everything we’d found.

In Mount Titan’s highest chambers I found Winslade’s makeshift office. That’s where all the officers held court. Winslade had chosen a pretty spot, complete with a trickling fall of silvery liquid methane and stalagmites that resembled dragon fangs coming up from the floor.

He’d pressurized the entire chamber and warmed it up, so we didn’t have to wear helmets in here. That’s why the methane was melting. Despite Winslade’s efforts, it still smelled too farty for my taste, so I kept my faceplate closed.

“Nice quarters, sir,” I commented.

Winslade turned to look at me. He didn’t have a smile on his face, he rarely did.

“Veteran, what’s this I hear from Graves about you performing unauthorized diplomatic negotiations—again?”

I was taken aback. Winslade was referring to certain activities I’d performed years ago on Dust World, when I’d tried to communicate with the local population of colonists. “I don’t know about any negotiations, sir,” I said. “We found one of the machines chained up in a lower tunnel along with a lot of unknown squid equipment. We fooled around with it a bit, but we didn’t get very far. The machine ran off.”

Winslade narrowed his eyes. He was a cagey one, as slime-balls go. I had to wonder what he was thinking. The question I was hoping he didn’t ask was who the “we” in my statement might consist of. I knew Carlos and Kivi were trying hard to get some positive recognition, and I didn’t want to take that from them, but I also didn’t want to involve them unless things went the right way. At the moment, the whole thing looked like a disaster so I figured I might as well take the blame myself. People expected this kind of thing from James McGill.

“Up to your usual tricks,” Winslade said at last. “This is my first time playing the role of your commander, and I must say I’m sympathizing with all those who’ve done so before me. You even managed to get one of your troops killed, correct?”

“Not exactly, sir. In any case, we did recover his full kit. He’ll pop right out of the revival machine as fit as a fiddle in an hour or so.”

Winslade nodded. “I would seek disciplinary action, but your fighting skills are desperately needed at this time. When the saurians first attacked you did well, by every report.”

“Thank you, Primus.”

Winslade gave me a wry look, indicating he hadn’t intended to praise me.

“Dismissed,” he said.

I hesitated until he looked up at me with his eyebrows raised. Then I asked another question. “Sir? Is Drusus up and walking around yet?”

“Yes. The Tribune’s revival has finally been achieved. Whatever technical difficulty kept him from returning to us has been solved.”

I almost laughed at that. Winslade knew full well that Turov had ordered Drusus to be kept on ice until she said otherwise. Now that she had dumped the legion on this rock and fled the star system, sure, it was time to revive poor old Drusus. Why not let him die again down here like the rest of us?

“You mind if I give my report to him, sir?” I asked.

“I don’t see why it would be necessary.”

“Uh…you may not be aware that Drusus and I have a standing arrangement when special circumstances like this come up. He wants a full report from the man in the field when matters go beyond the norm and enter the political arena.”

Winslade’s frown was back. “Is this some kind of threat, Veteran?”

“Not at all, sir. You misunderstand. I’m informing you of a special relationship between myself and the tribune, that’s all. It’s similar in nature to the relationship you’ve enjoyed for years with Imperator Turov. Your permission, sir?”

Winslade huffed. “Sounds like you don’t need my permission, but I suppose it was courteous to ask. Suddenly, your rapid rise in rank is less surprising to me.”

“Thank you sir,” I said and left.

I could have said a lot more, and I wanted to. Right off, Winslade had assumed my promotions were illegitimate since his were. I resented that. He’d been flying a desk for the last decade, hassling attractive underlings and kissing Turov’s shapely butt. He’d leapt to the conclusion that I was doing the same thing with Drusus as my patron. It wasn’t true, but I knew it wouldn’t do any good to try to defend myself in the eyes of this man.

Drusus’ office was less secluded and more utilitarian. He was just outside the general officers’ camp with a standard-issue computer desk and displays encircling the small chamber. He was studying three-dimensional tactical grids that presented the enemy positions around the mountain outside.

“Ah, McGill,” he said, glancing at me. “I was wondering when you would come to haunt me again.”

“Sorry sir,” I said. “It’s just my way.”

“Understood. What alarming news do you have for me today?”

Drusus had a lot of catching up to do so I started at the beginning. I told him about my first contact with the native machine life. I also discussed and displayed vids of the dead giant squid, and the data-globe we’d discovered. He expressed mild interest in all these things and promised he’d have teams of techs go over them.

Then I brought him up to speed on each of the incidents of communication with the machine-creatures up to the present time. As I explained this, I made an effort to play up the efforts of Kivi and Carlos in the best possible light.

“I’m unsurprised about Kivi’s contribution—but Carlos Ortiz?” he asked, as if unfamiliar with the name. He frowned and worked his tapper. “Oh yes, a regular with behavioral problems.”

“Same as I used to be, sir,” I said. “A few years back.”

Drusus laughed. “According to your superiors, little about your aptitude for getting into trouble has changed.”

“If you say so, sir. But Carlos does deserve credit for getting the machines to talk using the alien translating equipment. He also discovered and did the initial work with the data-globe.”

Drusus made a dismissive wave. “That’s not how these things look to me, McGill. Let me explain how an officer of many years sees these reports. The regular known as Kivi accompanied Ortiz on every occasion. When breakthroughs were recently made, you and Natasha—a very capable tech—were both on hand. Even so, disaster occurred, and Carlos managed to get himself killed by an unarmed native youth. As I read this—is this correct? The machine-creature
ate
him?”

“Not exactly, sir,” I said, feeling my sympathy for Carlos rising. Sure, I liked to beat on him as much as the next guy, but he was my friend. “The machine wanted the metal in his kit.”

“I see, yes... Then you apprehended the creature and destroyed it?”

“No, sir. I let it go.”

He eyed me for a moment. “An interesting choice. Most troops would have dispatched an alien after it killed their friend.”

“I suppose that’s right, sir. But I believed the killing of Carlos to be accidental. Carlos couldn’t breathe with his faceplate broken. That’s what killed him. And anyway, killing the machine for taking advantage of his death to eat his kit would erase any goodwill we might have developed with our communication attempts. After all, the machine might not understand that breaking a faceplate would result in death. How would it know we couldn’t breathe their air?”

He nodded. “A mature response. As to your friends, however…I could see putting Kivi into tech specialist training. Carlos Ortiz…he’s a problem. He’s definitely senior enough to warrant training. His fighting skills are adequate. But a tech? The idea is absurd.”

“Agreed, sir,” I said. “He’s not a tech. But I think he’s ready for a more advanced assignment of some kind. He’s been a regular for a lot of years now. He recently reenlisted, in fact.”

“A stroke of good fortune for the legion, I’m sure. Let me ask you, McGill, where would you place him? If he’s not a tech…then should he perhaps be given a larger, more powerful weapon with greater destructive capacity?”

“Uh…maybe not, sir,” I admitted. The idea of Carlos as a weaponeer—it was enough to make a man shudder.

“Then perhaps you see him as a leader of men? An inspiration to his cadre of troops? Perhaps a replacement for Sargon, or yourself in the future?”

The look on my face told the story. Drusus read it and nodded.