Empire

from ordinary criminal activity. The cops didn’t carry automatic weapons. And this sounded big. Cole knew that this was something too big for a couple of off-duty off-assignment Special Ops veterans to take on when the only weapons on them were pens and keys.

“I want to go back to Mingo’s car now,” said Rube.

They started back up the street. Broke into a jog at the same moment.

And then heard a loudspeaker behind them.

“We are not your enemies. We are fellow Americans here to protect your city from the unconstitutional government in Washington. Stay off the streets and you will not be hurt.”

They turned around to see what kind of vehicle was playing the recorded announcement. To see just what kind of evasive action they needed to take.

It was not a vehicle. Or maybe it was—there could be a human inside it. But it looked like a robot, about fourteen feet high, like a ball on two legs. It gave no sign of noticing them. Until they started to move. Then it zeroed in on them, started striding purposefully toward them, though it was still a hundred yards away.

Cole stopped. So did Rube. “Motion detectors?” asked Rube.

“Or a guy inside who just spotted us on his screen.”

“Or both.”

The loudspeaker sounded again. “Go inside. The streets are not safe.”

“So the message can change,” said Rube.

“I don’t want to go inside,” said Cole. “I want to get a really big gun and see what it takes to destroy that wonderful machine that’s here to protect me from the unconstitutional government in Washington.”

“I think that thing looks awkward and slow. Let’s see if we can outrun it.”

No further discussion was needed. They turned and ran.

“Stop and you will not be hurt. Stop and you will not be hurt.”

They did not stop.

“Stop now or you will be fired on.”

Cole glanced back over his shoulder. The machine had just kicked up into a higher gear.

“It’s faster than we are,” said Cole.

“It’s faster than we were,” said Rube, and he nearly doubled his speed.

So the major hadn’t gotten out of shape during his desk-jockey days. Cole had a hard time catching up to him.

Gunfire began. The warning repeated.

“Blanks so far,” said Cole.

“Those weren’t blanks,” said Rube. “It was a recording of gunshots.”

“You know what that thing reminds me of?” said Cole.

“The Empire Strikes Back” said Rube.

“I was thinking War of the Worlds.”

“Yeah, but those were computer-graphics bullshit. Why do they think two legs will make a thing like that work better than tracks?”

“If we’re still talking,” said Cole, “we’re not really running fast enough.”

They sped up again as the live bullets began striking around them. The corner of Greenwich Street was on their left, a couple of steps away.

“Not a recording now,” said Cole.

“So do we try for Murray Street or settle for Park Place?”

“You pick now to play Air Monopoly?”

The thing turned the corner behind them sooner than they had expected. It fired immediately.

“The warning message apparently ran out,” said Rube.

They dived between parked cars, then kept low as they moved along the sidewalk.

A car just behind them blew up. The blast knocked them off their feet.

Cole was up at once. Rube was maybe a little bit slower. It might have had to do with him being blown into a fireplug.

“You okay?” Cole asked.

“That is the ugliest girl I ever kissed,” said Rube. He was okay enough to keep running.

They made the corner of Park Place just as the tank-on-legs lined up with the sidewalk so it could shoot them without having to go through cars to do it. The bullets tore up the concrete of the sidewalk and Cole felt little bits of concrete spatter the back of his head. It would be hell getting them out by himself. He hated to pay the deductible to have an emergency room do it. It’s times like this, he thought, when it would be really nice to have a wife. Cecily will pull all the concrete bits out of Rube’s head.

The things that run through your head when the fear of death comes on you, thought Cole.

They were nearly at the corner of Broadway when the thing rounded the corner and started shooting at them again.

“What kind of threat… do we pose?” said Cole between breaths.

“Plenty of civilians… would act like this,” said Rube, also panting. “Shoot anything… that runs… bad order… collateral… damage.”

“Maybe it’s… cause we… run too… damn fast,” suggested Cole.

“Maybe it’s… our uniforms,” said Rube.

Cole had forgotten they were wearing uniforms.

He saw a deeply recessed doorway and dodged into it.

Rube joined him but didn’t like it. “We’ll just be… pinned here,” he said. “When it comes… up the street.”

“If it’s just a machine,” said Cole, “it won’t see us… and it might retarget.”

“That would be a really… stupid program, too,” said Rube.

“So maybe the guys who… built this are really stupid.”

They heard the thudding of steps on concrete, coming closer, echoing off the buildings of this street.

“Okay, so they’re not that stupid,” said Cole. “Sorry.”

“It’s on the sidewalk,” said Rube.

The door behind them opened. A terrified Chinese woman looked at them.

Rube didn’t hesitate. He shoved the door open wider, picked up the woman, and carried her farther inside as she shouted in Chinese. Cole followed and slammed the door behind them. They were inside a narrow Chinese restaurant.

“Does this place have a back door?” Rube demanded.

The woman only continued screeching in Chinese. A terrified old Chinese man came through a curtain, carrying a shotgun. Rube, who still had hold of the woman, dragged her down as Cole also hit the floor. The shotgun went off, blasting right where they—and the Chinese woman—had been standing.

“This guy is crazy,” said Rube.

“He also just called that walking tank.” Cole was up and running around and over the tables. The Chinese man tried to aim the shotgun at him. Just before he fired, Cole leapt high and the shot passed under and between his legs. Then Cole was on the guy and came up with the gun. Rube was already running after him, dragging the woman.

An explosion blew the door open. They dragged the Chinese couple deeper into the restaurant.

“How much ordnance does that thing carry?” asked Rube.

“I don’t want to find out just now,” said Cole. “I want to find out later, in a nice safe lab.”

“Is there a back door?” Rube asked the Chinese man, who wasn’t screaming like the woman was. But the Chinese man only pointed to the safe and said, “No money, no money!”

Cole shouted at the woman in Cantonese. He had guessed right. She was from China proper, or at least Hong Kong—not Taiwan. “Back door?”

She pointed.

“Big gun coming!” he shouted in what could only be terrible Cantonese. He had only been two months into the language course when he got the assignment to work with Rube. “Get upstairs! Hold still! Don’t talk! Shut