The Automatic Detective (33 page)

"Now, are we going to have a problem here? Because I'm not in a very good mood anymore."

He motioned for the guards, and they all dropped their popguns.

Behind me, ragged breaths registered in my audios while a shadow fell over me. I turned to scan a giant, melting, alien mutant behind me. Its eyes showed no sign of intelligence. I'd killed Warner, squashed his brain. But the thing must've grown a new one. Maybe even two or three. None of them seemed real happy at the moment.

The twelve-foot mutant thing grabbed the guard from my hand and batted me aside. Silently, except for its painful gasping, it stuffed the squirming guard down its throat. There was a lot of shrieking and crunching in the three seconds it took to swallow the guard whole. It had to chew a bit to deal with the wider portions. Four seconds later, stripes formed on its skin and a third eye opened on its forehead.

While eating the first, it'd seized another guard which it immediately gobbled down. As it'd taken on qualities of its first meal, it now grew patches of scales. It wasn't simply eating them. It was somehow absorbing their DNA.

The remaining guards were already off and running. The four at the rear didn't make it seven steps before the mutant leapt upon them. It jammed them down its throat with ruthless
speed and efficiency, not even stopping to pick the bits from its teeth from the last before starting with the other. With each meal, it grew bigger and absorbed more random characteristics.

Zarg said, "Surprising. The aberration is apparently attempting to correct the accelerated metabolic rate and genetic instability by assimilating more organic tissue."

"Is this going to be a problem, Doctor?" I asked.

"Unlikely," replied Zarg. "While it might slow the process of decay, it will not stabilize the—"

"How long until it dies?" I asked.

"Seven minutes." He didn't approximate or estimate, and since Zarg was supposed to be a genius, I figured he was right.

The mutant finished the last of the four. It was fifteen feet tall now, and I estimated it must've weighed at least four or five tons. It was less gooey, having gained some stability from the DNA it'd absorbed. It'd also become a mix of seven different aliens, with a crab-like claw, scales, and tiny wings on its shoulders. It didn't seem to hold any particular characteristic long though, and shifted back and forth among the various qualities.

It turned its eyes toward me, and growled. It didn't really look at me. Its pain and rage had been overwhelmed by its tremendous appetite, and Zarg and I were mere lumps of steel.

Its breath grew ragged again. Lesions broke out across its skin. With a bubbling rasp, the thing turned and loped from the lab in search of undamaged genes to refresh its own genetic decay. It didn't use the door but burned its way out by smearing its own corrosive shedding on the north wall.

If it escaped the facility and reached the surface, it could eat a lot of people in a few minutes. On the other hand, the mutant would certainly help to jam up the gears of Dissenter security, which I'd done a pretty good job of jamming myself already.

Holt remained my priority. The aberration was a minor inconvenience in the larger scheme. It might eat a few people, but if the Dissenters escaped with Holt and started mixing up a new batch of mutagen, we'd be back at the beginning of this mess.

I plotted the course on my map files. From here, it was a thousand, six hundred feet north to the panic room where automated security protocols would have removed Holt for safekeeping.

The aberration had gone north.

Could've been a coincidence.

"Doctor, hypothetically, what would happen if that thing managed to assimilate Holt's DNA."

"Postulating." Must've been a doozy of a postulation because Zarg took a full nine seconds to run through the simulations. "It is unlikely that anything can correct the genetic instability."

"How unlikely?"

"The variables are too many to calculate precise odds."

"Take a wild guess."

"I do not guess."

I grabbed him by his armless shoulders and lifted him up. "Zarg, what are the odds that this thing is going after Holt?"

"Unknown."

I sighed. Had to know how to talk to a robot. Even one as intelligent as Zarg.

I said, "Assuming the aberration is smart enough or aware enough to go after Holt, and assuming that by assimilating his DNA it is able to stabilize its decay, how hard would that thing be to kill?"

"With the assumptions given, it can be assumed that the aberration might be statistically impossible to destroy, short of an atomic explosion or other such cataclysm."

"Thanks, Doctor." I set him down. "Was that so hard?"

I set the most direct course to the panic room, moved to the other side of the lab so I could build up some momentum, and went into battering ram mode. I thrust my damaged shoulder forward to absorb the trauma as I smashed through the wall without losing a step.

I hypothesized that I was merely being paranoid, that the thing Warner had become was no longer Warner. Just a thing driven by hunger, rage, and agony. A mindless, unthinking beast fueled by instinct without intelligence or memory. It was only an assumption, and that looked less and less likely to be true as I noted that the creature was burning its way in the exact same direction with single-minded purpose. It was moving fast.

Halfway to my destination, I finally caught up with it. It'd happened upon a room full of biologicals and was taking the opportunity to feed itself, and doing so with quiet efficiency. By now, it'd grown another mouth in its chest so that it could eat even faster. Except for its raspy breathing, the thing never made a sound.

Its head moved in my direction, drawn by the movement. It was smart enough to know eating me would only give it a stomachache. It returned its attentions to three biologicals trapped in a corner. They blasted it with heatrays, which only seemed to be irritating it. I took advantage of the distraction to pull ahead.

The panic room was surprisingly easy to reach. It wasn't designed to be impregnable in itself, but to be in a well-defended position. The facility was in chaos now. Security was as well organized as an anthill being sprayed by a hose. I ran across few guards. They were either rushing in Warner's direction or, just as commonly, running the other way. I could take some small pride that the Dissenters' agenda had suffered a serious setback.

I kicked in the doors. The room was small, barely big enough to hold a few monitoring devices and a table where Holt lay. Two medical drones tended him. Neither was designed for combat, and happily got out of my way as I approached. There was a sealed tube in the ceiling that led back to the chemical lab where they'd been filtering mutagens from him.

He scanned in bad shape. Doctor Zarg had been careful in the extraction process, doing as little harm as possible, but with Warner in charge, the boy's health was unimportant. He'd lost six to ten pounds, and his scales had lost their shine. There were noticeable scars forming where the tubes and wires had been connected to his flesh.

I very carefully lifted him off the table. He was so fragile. I could've crushed him with one squeeze. This had been my objective. Eliminate Holt, remove the threat of anyone else getting the bright idea to use a little boy to endanger Empire. It would've been so easy. Nothing to it. Holt wouldn't even feel a thing, and this mess would be ended.

That was before. Now, there was a monster on its way here, to Holt, alive or not, to assimilate the kid's DNA. No, I had to get Holt out of here. Alive was as easy as dead.

While the risk of an unstoppable mutant aberration put the whole city at risk, I was suddenly grateful for it. Now I wouldn't have to make a decision and find out what kind of bot I was. Could I kill someone, even an innocent boy, even if it was the most logical thing to do? If I couldn't, did it mean I had that elusive quality of humanity or was I just stupid? If I could, was I every bit the ruthless auto I was designed to be or was I doing what needed to be done? All good questions, but they wouldn't be answered today. And I hoped they never would have to be.

Holt moaned and opened his eyes halfway. He spoke so weakly that it barely registered.

"Mack," he said. "You found me. April said you would. She said I shouldn't be scared."

"Yeah, kid," I said. "It'll be all right."

He smiled painfully, then closed his eyes and went back to sleep. Except sleep was too nice a word for it. He was unconscious, out cold. His breathing was shallow and irregular. I had to get him out of here, find a hospital, and keep him out of the belly of a monster for another five minutes.

The aberration screeched as it hurled itself against the panic room. It'd eaten enough by now that it was too big to fit through the doors. Instead, it pounded on the walls and tried reaching in with one of its arms. I kicked it in the knuckles so that it withdrew the limb, but the walls were dissolving under its acidic touch and buckling under its powerful blows. They wouldn't last more than a few seconds.

I reached up and tore away the seal on the tube overhead. "Hang on, Holt." I don't know why I said it. He couldn't hear me.

I activated my booster and rocketed up the tube toward the lab. It was a long way up though, and the belt didn't have the juice for a single jump. So I dug my fingers into the side halfway up, and hung there, cradling Holt in my damaged arm, still functional enough for that, waiting for the booster to recharge.

Below, the aberration screamed and growled as it tore apart the panic room. It would figure out Holt wasn't there in a second and be after us. The thing had some sort of connection to Holt. I assumed it wouldn't remain confused long.

The booster was taking longer than usual to recharge. It was wearing out. I only needed it to hold out a little longer. Just one more time. That was all I asked.

I switched on my radio. "Humbolt, are you out there?"

"Yeah, Mack," he replied.

"I need to talk to the cops."

"Good news," said Humbolt. "We got cops all over the freakin' place out here."

"Detective Alfredo Sanchez," I said. "Short, furry, looks like a rat. Find him."

"I'm on it."

Below, the aberration grew suddenly silent. Even its raspy breathing ceased. I didn't know if it was sniffing the air for Holt's scent or scanning telepathically, but I was sure it wouldn't take long to pick up the trail.

It raised its head upward, looked me right in the optical, and laughed. I swear it laughed. Played that sound back three times, and every time, it could only be a chuckle. A hungry, wicked chuckle.

It was too big to fit up the tube easily, but it was squishy enough that it could force itself upwards. Its dripping flesh dissolved the sides, making its climb easier with each inch.

"Come on, Lucia. Don't let me down."

The belt reactivated.

I boosted the rest of the way as the aberration threatened to grab me by the foot. I didn't have quite enough power, and I barely made it to the edge. I snagged it with my free hand and pulled myself up without losing Holt in the process. There was no time to congratulate myself. Behind me, the aberration was shrieking. I'd bought a fifteen- or twenty-second head start. Maybe less.

I was still sixteen stories below ground. I needed up fast. My memory file directed me to a nearby section of emergency levitator pods. Intended purely for evacuation situations, they worked one way: up. Which was fortunately the way I wanted to go. With some luck, they hadn't all been taken yet.

One was left, and there was a group of five Dissenters attempting to access it. They jumped at my sudden appearance and readied their weapons.

"We don't have time for this," I said.

The aberration roared, and it could be heard ripping in this direction.

They lowered their weapons, and the leader, a rodent-like woman, pressed a few keys on the security console.

"Invalid code," replied the console in a superior voice.

Her shaking hand stabbed at the keys, and the console said, "invalid code."

Biologicals. Couldn't count on them when the pressure was on. Not most of them anyway. I dug into my coat pocket and plugged another of Lucia's gizmos into the console. It lit up.

The aberration appeared at the end of the corridor. How could something that oddly proportioned and lumbering move so fast? It rushed toward us.

"Oh, flurb," whispered one of the terrified lab techs.

Lucia's gizmo chimed happily as it defeated the security console. I shoved my way into the pod first and the rest jumped in behind me. I hit the activation button as a giant hand reached in and snatched out one of the biologicals. His screams were cut off by a sudden crunch. Then the doors closed, and the pod rocketed upward.

"What is that?" asked the rodent scientist. "What is that?" As if there were really an answer to the question that would make everything better.

I checked Holt. He remained unconscious, despite the bumpy ride and the monster out to devour him.

"Mack, got'cha that cop you wanted," radioed Humbolt. "Patchin' him through now. Just speak into my faceplate, detective."

"What the hell is going on here, Mack?" asked Sanchez.