arm as it fell. There was a loud clang as armor hit the steel deck followed by the gentle moan of released air. Meanwhile, the battle between Rebo and the remaining enforcers continued. The good news was that the explosive darts were effective against the big spheres. The bad news was that the fi?rst unit the runner attacked sustained three separate hits before fi?nally suffering signifi?cant damage to its onboard guidance system. A few moments later the construct powered its way through the surrounding holo curtain, smashed into the bulkhead beyond, and crashed to the deck.
Now, having taken cover behind the wreckage of the fi?rst enforcer, the runner was attempting to get a bead on the third robot. Unfortunately for Rebo, the machine had the capacity to learn. And, having observed what had happened to the other units, had taken evasive action. By going up to its maximum altitude of twelve feet, the robot had positioned itself against the dark overhead, making it diffi?cult to see. Although Rebo could see the energy bolts as they fl?ashed down at him, it was impossible to know which way the machine would move next. All of which explained why the last three shots had missed their mark. But the enforcer’s plan, good though it was, failed to take the second biological into account. A fact that became evident when the robot passed under a crossbeam and felt something land on top of it. Then, even as the machine readied an electric shock designed to counter that sort of attack, the weight dropped away. The enforcer bobbed upward, and was still in the process of analyzing what had occurred, when the phib energy grenade went off.
Since she knew next to nothing about the robot’s design, and was eager to jump off the machine as quickly as possible, Norr had been content to shove the little bomb into any aperture she could fi?nd. Which, as it turned out, was an intake vent. And once the grenade detonated, the duct channeled hot gases directly into the enforcer’s high-tech guts, where they triggered a secondary explosion. Rebo heard a dull thump, saw fl?ames shoot out through multiple cracks in the machine’s armor, and watched the construct as it fell on the far end of the kidney- shaped console.
Rebo’s fi?rst thought was for Tepho. Had the technologist been killed? The runner sincerely hoped so, but crossed the room only to discover that the slippery bastard was nowhere to be found.
Meanwhile, deep within the surreal universe of Socket’s CPU, an entirely different kind of war was being fought. A desperate confl?ict in which bolts of logical lightning illuminated a bleak landscape, multicolored lights glittered as they cascaded down tiers of memory into rivers of molten data, and mountainous subroutines vanished only to magically reappear as twin titans battled for control. But dramatic though the contest was, there was never any doubt as to which AI would emerge victorious. By the time Sogol entered Socket’s Central Processing Unit Logos was so fi?rmly entrenched that a miracle would have been required to dislodge him. And there were no miracles within the space station’s CPU, just calculations, which the older AI controlled. So, even as Sogol continued to fi? ght, she knew what the ultimate outcome would have to be. And though not capable of human emotion, processed a sense of profound noncompletion, which was analogous to regret.
Norr had just learned of Tepho’s escape when Sogol’s voice came over the speakers. “I will hold out as long as I can, but Logos 1.1 will ultimately seize control of Socket, and therefore humanity itself.”
“No!” The word was formed by Norr’s lips and delivered from her mouth, but had been spoken by someone else. The sensitive felt a surge of something akin to electricity as the entity once known as Emperor Hios took control of her body. “This is Lysander. . . . Hold Logos 1.1 off as long as you can! There is a way to destroy Socket . . . a code that I took to my grave. Once I enter it into the console, my channel will have ten minutes to evacuate. Then, once the power core blows, the entire satellite will be destroyed.”
Rebo watched Lysander walk Norr’s body over the badly ravaged console. There was an audible whir as a section of seemingly solid material opened in response to her touch, and a keypad was revealed. Slim fi?ngers danced over white buttons as a string of potentially lethal numbers were entered and Logos 1.1 immediately sought to neutralize them. But the AI couldn’t interfere with the ultimate safeguard, not so long as his programming was intact, but was quick to express his frustration. “No! Are you insane? When Socket dies, everything you built, everything you worked for will die with it!”
“That’s true,” the onetime emperor intoned. “But it’s better than allowing entities like Tepho and you to control humanity! Perhaps someone will reinvent the star gates one day. . . . If so, I can only hope that they do a better job of it than I did.”
Then, as if to underline Lysander’s words, a klaxon began to bleat. Norr staggered as the spirit entity released its grip on her, felt Rebo take her hand, and heard him yell, “Run!”
Tepho tripped, fell, and threw out his hands in a last second attempt to protect himself. Having added still more bruises to the collection he already had, the technologist struggled to his feet and limped ahead. The shoulder wound was painful, but the fl?esh had been cauterized by the same bolt of energy that injured it, so there wasn’t any blood. Of more concern were the robots that wanted to kill him. But not if he made it to the star gate fi?rst!
Armed with a pistol taken off Shaz’s headless torso, the technologist was on level one, making his way down a long stretch of corridor, when a klaxon began to bleat. Emergency beacons began to fl?ash soon after that, and it became obvious that something was wrong.
But the administrator was already running as fast as he could, so there was nothing more that he could do as a synthesized female voice began the fi?nal countdown. “Time remaining for evacuation nine minutes, thirty seconds. All personnel who wish to exit the station prior to detonation are ordered to leave Socket now. . . . Time remaining for evacuation nine minutes, twenty-fi?ve seconds. All personnel . . .”
Tepho lost track of the announcement as a loud chittering sound was heard, hundreds of guardians poured out into the hallway in front of him, and the technologist was forced to stop. The pistol jumped in the administrator’s hand as he fi?red into the oncoming mob. Tepho had the momentary satisfaction of seeing more than a dozen robots go down. But then he was out of ammo, and with no backup clips to call on, the norm could do little more than throw the empty gun at the roiling mass of electromechanical bodies before him. Just as Tepho was about to surrender to the inevitable, a dart whizzed past his right ear, struck one of the mechanimals, and exploded.
“So, we meet again,” Norr observed, as she stepped up to fi?re her shotgun.
The technologist felt something warm seep down along his legs, and looked down to discover that he had peed himself, even as Rebo fi?red three explosive rounds into what remained of the horde. “Time remaining for evacuation, eight minutes, fi?fteen seconds,” the voice announced calmly. “All personnel who wish to exit the station . . .”
“That would be us!” Rebo exclaimed, and reached out to help Norr through the electromechanical gore that covered the deck.
“But what about me?” Tepho wailed miserably, as the others left him behind.
“It looks like you’re screwed!” Rebo shouted cheerfully, as Norr rounded the corner ahead, and he followed. The couple were in the fi?nal stretch by that time, and racing through the area where an earlier battle had been fought, when Sogol was forced to capitulate. There was a symbolic explosion deep within Socket’s CPU, as the eternally shifting computational landscape was momentarily illuminated by a brilliant fl?ash of light, and operating
