Jepp felt a rising sense of panic. Whatever he had landed in the middle of was more than a routine maintenance chore. That much was clear. Questions begged to be asked. “Robots? Goal? What goal?”
Hatches opened up ahead, a swarm of silvery robots flooded the corridor, and the Hoon hurried to answer. “After you pass through the last door you will find yourself in a circular space. Go to the bright blue module located at the very center of the compartment, take hold of the red handle, and give it one full turn to the right.
“Once that’s accomplished, you must pull the handle, and the component to which the handle is attached, clear of the console. Then, assuming that you survive, you can return to my ship. Questions?”
Questions? Jepp had dozens, but the robots attacked right about then, and the conversation came to an abrupt end. Metal clanged as the oncoming wave smashed into Alpha. None of the units had weapons or were programmed for grasper-to-hand combat. That being the case, they fought like Sumo wrestlers, pushing, shoving, and bumping with their torsos. Alpha staggered under the onslaught, Sam danced the width of Jepp’s shoulders, and the human was forced to retreat.
There were lots of attackers, but the width of the passageway acted to concentrate them, thereby limiting the number that could make contact at any given moment. Still, the phalanx had force, and the intruders gave ground.
The whole thing was strange ... If the Hoon had taken over Alpha’s body, and the robots worked for the Hoon, why would they attack?
Jepp was still pondering that question, stilt trying to figure it out, when the Hoon-Alpha extended an arm. Bright blue electricity arced between it and one of the oncoming Sheen. A black spot appeared between the robot’s sensors, a wisp of smoke drifted away, and the construct collapsed on the deck. Another machine took the first robot’s place, another spark jumped the gap, and another unit fell. Jepp backpedaled, ducked a clumsy roundhouse right, and backpedaled again. That’s when something unexpected took place. Sam morphed into a configuration the prospector had never seen before, threw itself at one of the oncoming robots, and drilled a hole through the top of its shiny metal skull. The bit screamed, bright metal shavings curled toward the deck, and sparks jetted upwards. The machine jerked spasmodically, its joints locked, and it toppled forwards.
Sam rode the robot down, popped loose, and rolled away. The next victim didn’t even know it had even been selected until the diminutive machine swarmed up one of its legs, scampered onto its head. and started the drill.
Emboldened by the inroads achieved by his electromechanical allies. Jepp uttered a primal war cry, charged the machine in front of him, and pushed it over. Metal screeched on metal as the defender hit the deck. The human stepped on the robot’s abdomen and tackled the next unit in line. The battle raged hot and heavy for the next few minutes, started to wane as the causalities increased, and came to a sudden halt. The drill bit screamed as Sam left its most recent victim twitching on the deck. Eyes wild, adrenaline pumping, Jepp turned and charged for the opposite end of the corridor. Never mind the fact that he didn’t know who he was fighting, or why, the human wanted to win. “Come on!
This is our chance!”
Sam scrambled onto the prospector’s shoulder as Alpha charged forward and hit a force field of some sort. The robot staggered and started to convulse. The Hoon spoke but the words arrived one at a time.
“The force fields were designed for robots. Continue to the objective.”
Of course! Jepp thought to himself. That’s why the tricky pile of nuts and bolts recruited me—the security systems are designed to stop machines! Sheen machines since Sam remains unaffected. That’s when the thinking ended, lost in the rasp of his own breathing and the pounding of his pulse. The hatch! At the far end of the corridor—how would he get the damned thing open? That’s when Jepp remembered the pack, still pounding the lower part of his back, and the tools it contained. Maybe . . . just maybe ...
Hoon number two monitored the biological’s approach with a growing sense of dread. Hoon number one had not only conceived the assault but had actually participated in it. Why? A software problem?
No, not unless number two wanted to consider the possibility that it was vulnerable as well. The Thraki then ... a virus of some sort... or ...
The greenish blob knelt in front of the hatch, removed a colder object from its pack, and triggered a green-white flame. A torch! The soft body planned to bum its way in!
Hoon number two gathered the most critical aspects of itself into one digitized file, sent it down a fiber optic path bay, and hit some sort of blockage. The escape route had been severed!
There were others, backups, and backups for the backups. The computer intelligence tried each and every one of them. None were open. The trap had closed.
Metal glowed cherry red, turned liquid, and trickled toward the deck. The heat, reflected off the hatch, waned Jepp’s skin and drew sweat from his pores. Now, with a little time in which to think, ice cold fear trickled into the pit of his stomach. What lay in wait on the other side of the hatch?
The question went unanswered as metal surrendered to heat and a locking rod was severed. The door sagged, Jepp hit the “Off” switch, and the torch made a popping sound. He placed the tool on the deck. The recesses had been engineered for use by hands smaller than his but still managed to accommodate his fingers. Jepp lifted and
