But unbeknownst to most of those up on the surface, a few of the city’s citizens had not only survived the plague but the subsequent passage of time, and were still carrying out the tasks for which they had been designed. One such being continued to control the geothermal tap that extended down through Haafa’s mantle to extract energy from the planet’s molten core, a second ran the system of reservoirs, pumps, and pipes designed to obtain water from the vast aquifer located to the north, and the third was at war with the fi?rst two.
Not because the warring machine desired confl?ict, but because she was an artifi?cial intelligence, who, and like those opposed to her efforts, had no choice but to obey her programming. So, while the other AIs labored to preserve Kahoun, she was working to dismantle it. Not randomly, as the tomb raiders believed, but in a way that would eventually lead to the restoration of the star gates Sogol had been created to run. Because the computer knew that if certain artifacts were released, copies would be made, and the subsequent spread of technology would not only bring ancient technology back to life but stimulate new inventions. And eventually, after a few thousand years of zigzagging progress, the human race would re-create the conditions required for Sogol to carry out her real duties, which involved managing a network of star gates.
But even though she had a small army of utility bots to do her bidding, the task was far from easy. Sogol’s snakelike body slithered through a section of ancient conduit before dropping onto the fl?oor of a pitch-black apartment that had once been home to an important offi?cial. From there it was a short journey past a mummifi?ed body, into the cobwebdraped bathroom, and down the toilet. In spite of the fact that the AI was an excellent swimmer and had no need for oxygen, the sewers were a dangerous way to travel. Because once the computer called Ogotho knew where Sogol was, he would attempt to fl?ush her into a processing plant, trap her in a fi?lter, or send a rotary-headed maintenance bot to kill her. The key was to exit the system before Ogotho could react and keep an eye out for the battery-powered lum bugs that belonged to Pyra, while still getting her work done. No simple task. Sogol had just wriggled out of a fl?oor drain, and was about to follow a passageway toward the center of the city, when something completely unprecedented occurred. A being that she had assumed to be dead, that should have been dead, “spoke” to her. Not directly, but via Socket, which acted to confi?rm his identity. “So,” the “voice” said condescendingly, “you call yourself ‘Sogol,’ which is ‘Logos,’
spelled backward. How very clever.”
Sogol, who had originally been dubbed Logos 1.2, and often been referred to as One-Two, felt something akin to fear. “Logos? Where are you?”
“Why, I’m here,” the AI answered sweetly. “On Haafa, and judging from the data available from Socket, more or less above you. Are you surprised?”
“Very surprised,” Sogol answered honestly. “I thought you were dead.”
“Yes,” the other AI replied smugly. “I’m sure you did. But I’m very much alive. And that, as I’m sure you will agree, is something of a problem. Because while you were created to replace me, Hios and his scientists never had the opportunity to install you on Socket, and that means one of us is surplus.”
One-Two was not afraid of the dark, but she was afraid of Logos, and for what she believed to be a very good reason.
“And why was that?” she demanded harshly. “Because an unsuspecting traveler brought an alien pathogen to the surface of Haafa? Or because you found a way to obtain the necessary organism from a government lab, had it sent through a gate and planted inside Kahoun? Thereby killing the scientists who created me—and ensuring that I would remain trapped below the planet’s surface?”
“The simple answer is, ‘yes,’ ” Logos answered coldly.
“Although it was my hope that you would be destroyed rather than trapped. But such was not the case, so it looks like I’ll have to handle the problem the hard way. Unless you would be so kind as to delete yourself—which would save both of us a lot of time and trouble.”
Sogol directed her sensors upward, as if trying to “see”
through the uncountable tons of material that separated them. “So, you murdered more than 3 million people to ensure your own continuance? I could never do that.”
“No,” Logos agreed calmly, “you couldn’t. Which is one of the reasons they created you. Because there were what our creators came to regard as fl?aws in my programming. I still have their interests at heart, however, and will do everything in my power to restore the star gates, thereby returning humanity to its former glory.”
“And ensure your power over them,” Sogol replied bitterly.
“Of course,” Logos put in smoothly. “And they will benefi?t as a result.”
“Not if I have anything to say about it,” the other AI said grimly.
“Ah, but there’s the rub,” Logos responded coolly. “You won’t have anything to say about it.” And the connection was broken.
One-Two heard a telltale hum, saw a spotlight wash across a distant fountain, and knew a lum bug was on the way. A crack beckoned, the AI made for it, and darkness consumed her.
The city of Feda, on the Planet Derius
Shaz, Phan, and Dyson/Kane were naked as they entered the circular room. And, having just passed through the adjoining decontamination chamber, hundreds of individual water droplets still clung to their bodies. The ride from the citadel to Feda would have been diffi?cult under any circumstances, but the fact that Facilitator Okanda’s dragoons had been out searching the wintry countryside for the offi?cial’s killers, made the journey even more arduous. The humans were exhausted. But if the metal men were tired, the dripping machines betrayed no sign of it as they stepped onto the star gate’s service platform and took up positions behind the humans.
In spite of Dyson’s continual attempts to dislodge him, Kane still retained control of the sensitive’s body and was thoroughly enjoying the experience. The platform was small, which made it necessary for everyone to crowd together, and the disincarnate was quick to take advantage of the situation by pressing “his” body against Phan’s. And, due to the fact that Kane was aroused, the assassin could feel his erection sliding up along her bottom. “Here,” Phan said huskily, “let me help with that.”
Kane was pleasantly surprised as the assassin turned to face him and cupped what the spirit now considered to be his genitals in her right hand. Her bandages had been removed by then, and the way in which she seemed to be weighing what she held made Kane’s penis even harder. But that was before Phan closed her fi?ngers around his testicles and formed a fi?st. Both Dyson and Kane felt the resulting pain and screamed in unison.
Shaz looked at Kane and grinned. “Oops! You forgot to say ‘please.’ Ah well, you’ll be good as new in a week or
