roughly conforming to the former topography of the island. Sunlight reflected off the strange objects with a maddening, actinic brightness.
Wind whipped through Cap’s dark red hair and beard, making it ripple as if it were aflame. He took a deep breath, smelling the salt sea air. There was no place he preferred to be than on a ship of any size, even a ten-foot long souped-up rowboat such as this. The sun shimmered on the ocean, breaking into a million images of itself, each one lasting only an instant before being replaced by another. Off to starboard, a marlin broke water and splashed back beneath the blue.
“Skipper?” Sun Ra’s voice shouted above the roar of the jet engine. “You’re not going to have us go ashore on that stuff, are you? I personally don’t want to turn into a puddle of goo.”
Cap shrugged, handing his binoculars to Sun Ra and pointing. “It doesn’t seem to be affecting the natives.”
Sun Ra gazed through the binoculars. Parallel to the metallic shore, a line of twenty Mexicans in tattered clothing carried crates and bundles.
They walked in a dazed, robotic manner toward a dark cavern gaping amid the shining island like a hole punched by a giant’s fist. Turning his gaze to the left, Sun Ra observed a landing strip constructed of one seamless piece of dark material. On the runway sat a small single-engine airplane and a pair of heavily armed military helicopters. He directed his captain’s attention toward the airstrip.
Cap nodded. “That’s the Cessna Dandridge flew out of Palo Alto.
Judging from the length of the runway, he may have larger aircraft. Keep an eye peeled for jet fighters.”
Cap took over the engine from Rock and navigated toward a smooth part of the mirror-like shoreline, down the coast a few hundred yards from the cave. He led the others in jumping into the waves and touched the metallic surface beneath the churning foam. Instead of slipping, his soles gripped the slope with the squeak of rubber on metal. Pulling the boat ashore above the high water line marked by seaweed and detritus, he motioned to the rest of the team to debark.
Sun Ra stepped out next and bent down for a closer look at the peculiar land on which he stood.
“Look at that weird pattern!” he said in a puzzled tone.
The rest of the crew gazed at their feet. The surface consisted of countless combinations of ridges, each of which formed a four-sided polygon that was shaped like either a fat diamond or a skinny diamond. They connected less like individual bricks and more like molded isogrids. Inside each of these quadrangles lay smaller versions of the same two shapes. Looking up at the artificial mountains rising before them, it was plain that the pattern repeated itself on a larger scale.
“What sort of design is this?” Rock wondered aloud.
“Penrose tiles,” Cap said, pulling videocam headsets from Tex’s pack. “A mathematician’s toy. If they were colored, you’d be able to tell that they make patterns that repeat but never in any regular manner. Dandridge has obviously programmed his microbots to turn this island into a temple for him. Using fractal construction, too. Every Penrose shape is composed of smaller Penrose shapes, probably right down to the molecular level.
This island is a gigantic quasi-crystal.” He slipped a headset on and handed the others to his crew. “Flash will be fascinated to see this—he’s always wanted the lab floor to have Penrose tiles.”
Cap switched on the headset and slipped in his earcomm. “Flash?”
The headset broadcast a signal to the nearest communication satellite
overhead, downlinking hundreds of miles away to the Anger Institute.
“Here, Cap, ” the voice in his ear replied.
“We’re on the island. Start recording.”
“Roger. Say—is that a Penrose tile pattern on the ground?”
Cap headed toward the cavern, the others walking alongside him. Outwardly, they acted like boaters picnicking on a vacation island. Tex and Sun Ra joked about the heat of the sunlight that reflected dazzlingly from every square inch of their surroundings. Rock whistled a merry Slavic folk song. Only Cap walked quietly, listening to the sounds carried by the warm ocean breeze. He to scan the upper reaches of the island with digital binoculars that sent stereoscopic images back to AI.
“He obviously set this place up for privacy,” Cap subvocalized to Flash, though The others also heard him over their earcomms. “No need for guards. Or maybe—”
He stopped in his tracks to stare at the entrance to the cave.
“Bozhe moi!” Rock cried out.
All along the entrance to the cavern stood an eerie phalanx of silver statues. Most of them looked like Mexican peasant men and women, though a pair of them wore the uniforms of Mexican federales. Nearby stood two men and a woman in lab coats. Several of the nearly lifelike statues appeared to be sneaking toward the cavern, though some faced in the opposite direction as if running away, their faces contorted with terror. The sculptures possessed incredibly fine detail, down to the weave of the fabric and pore patterns on the skin. Cap did not allow anyone to get close enough to see such detail, though.
“Dandridge has his own brand of security system,” Cap said.
“Microbots that can metal-plate a running man in mid-stride?” Sun Ra asked incredulously.
Cap shook his head. “More likely that Dandridge programmed these particular microbots to swarm over intruders and lock together into a sort of exoskeleton. They’re held in place to suffocate and left as decoration.
“Then how do the zombies get in and out?” Sun Ra asked.
“Probably have transmitters in their implants,” Flash said in their ears. “Broadcasts a signal telling the machines not to attack.”
Cap pointed to the first line of statues. “See that? That must be the outer perimeter. If we get any closer, the robots attack.”
“Why didn’t they just melt them?” Tex asked.
“A warning to others, perhaps. Something to scare away the curious.” Cap stepped perilously close to the first rank of statues.
“But there are so many,” Rock said.
“There’s always a few willing to test the odds,” Cap muttered.
“Someone’s coming,” Tex said.
From inside the dark cavern reverberated the sound of slow, methodical footfalls.
“Zombies,” Cap whispered. “Let’s watch.”
Ducking behind a ridge of fractal metal, the four peered out at the half-dozen men who shuffled slowly out of the cave. Wending their way through the forest of motionless victims, the six ragged workers trudged toward the airstrip with a listless yet mechanical determination.
“Look around their feet,” Cap whispered.
Where they walked, the metallic sheen grew dull and unreflective for several feet in all directions.
“The microbots withdraw when they come by. And far enough to prevent them from attacking any cargo the zombies carry.” Cap’s voice held a note of grim respect for Dandridge’s attention to detail. Then he smiled, the green in his eyes catching the sunlight in such a way that they glowed like a matched pair of emeralds in firelight. “There’s the weakness in the system. We’ll act like cargo!”
The four waited for the zombies to return, which they did in half an hour. Each carried a huge, burlap- wrapped bundle on either shoulder that would have tested the strength of most men. Their electronic masters, though, cared not an iota for such concerns as muscle pain or fatigue. Under their programmed commands, the men ignored any warnings their bodies might be giving them and hefted their burdens wordlessly.
As they trooped past the hidden observers, though, Cap saw that the hideous control devices only suppressed the victim’s pain, but could not erase it. Each man’s face revealed a contorted mask of agony, their mouths twisted in torment, their eyebrows knotted in unbearable anguish. Their glazed eyes stared with a vacuous mockery of awareness, as if the computerized masters buried in their brains knew every step of their path and needed no visual input to guide them.
Sweat poured off their brows and trickled into those eyes. The sting
would have driven other men mad. These damned souls trudged forward unflinchingly with their loads, unbidden tears running from their lifeless eyes to trickle down cheeks, lips, and chins.
Cap glanced at Tex. The doctor shook his head with a grim sadness. “High-tech slaves,” was all he said.
“Walk close to them,” Cap said. “We’ll stay in their protective zone to get in, then drop away from them when
