“Human hierarchical behavior and its associated hoarding can be so very wasteful,” Horatio commented.
“Not as wasteful as building sentient machines,” Will replied.
Horatio had nothing to say to that.
“If Veil was smart,” Miles said into the silence. “She’d simply jettison that trailer.”
“She probably will,” Rhea said. “Though I doubt it will give her that much of a speed advantage. Probably buy her a few more minutes before her doom, and that’s it.”
“Personally, I think the trailer harbors some sort of missile launcher,” Brinks said. “Maybe a nuke.”
Miles chuckled. “I seriously doubt it.”
“Guess we’ll see,” Brinks told the Wardenite. “When you’re staring down the business end of an incoming missile, I promise not to say, ‘I told you so.’”
When the convoy approached to within the maximum range of the plasma turrets, Rhea gave the order for the technicals to begin bombarding the target. Because of the range, the semi-trailer had plenty of time to swerve out of the way.
“There’s something to be said about the near instantaneous transmission of a laser to its target,” Will said. “Once a laser is within range, it’s impossible to dodge. Whose bright idea was it to equip the technicals with plasma turrets rather than laser cannons?”
“Not mine,” Miles replied.
“Have the technicals hold their fire until we’re closer,” Rhea said, her voice calm, methodical. “Five hundred kilometers away. Then I want them to coordinate their fire. Target the left, right, and central positions all at the same time. Make it so that no matter where Veil swerves, a plasma bolt will be waiting to greet her.”
“When you get like this, you scare me,” Will told her. “All cold and ruthless.”
“Probably my old self coming through,” Rhea said.
“Then I’m glad I never met your old self,” he commented.
“Don’t worry, you might meet her yet,” she taunted.
Will glanced at Horatio in the back seat. “I’m not looking forward to the day.”
“I rather enjoy it when she becomes this way,” Horatio said. “Bloodthirsty. Heartless. It’s an interesting case study in the dual, conflicted nature of humanity. A case study for why a robot should never aspire to be a human.”
“You’re not helping,” Rhea told the robot.
“Am I distracting you from what comes?” Horatio asked.
“Not really,” Rhea replied.
“Then you’re right, I’m not helping,” the robot said. “I will proceed to deactivate my vocalization subroutines.”
“You do that, Tin Bucket,” Miles said.
Horatio cocked that polycarbonate head. “You’re lucky you’re an albino.”
Miles’ brows drew together in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“Because I wouldn’t let any of the others get away with saying something like that,” Horatio explained.
“The heck you talking about?” Miles said. “You a prejudiced, racist robot or something?”
“You’re the one who called me Tin Bucket…” Horatio said.
Will spun around. “Like Rhea said, you’re not helping.” Will ran a finger across his lips. “Zip it.”
“I was trying to, but he—” Horatio started.
Will made the zipping gesture again, and Horatio remained silent. Will glanced at Miles. “You too, Albino.”
Miles glowered, but kept his mouth shut.
The convoy continued to close. But before they were within the optimal firing range Rhea desired, the semi jettisoned its load.
The trailer quickly ground to a halt, its front end missing wheels of any kind.
Free of its burden, the main vehicle sped up, but not by a large margin.
“The semi is still going slower than we are,” Will said. “Within an hour, we’ll reach the requested firing range.”
“Then we have time for a quick detour,” Rhea said.
Will gave her a curious glance. “You think Veil is hiding in the trailer?”
“We’d be remiss if we didn’t check,” Rhea told him.
“What if it’s rigged to blow?” Will asked.
Jairlin, who was listening in over the comm, spoke: “My team will check it out. You guys stay back, watch remotely.”
“Too bad we don’t have more robots with us,” Miles said. “They’d be perfect for this.”
“Hey!” Horatio told the albino. “Robots are not expendable.”
Miles snorted. “Says the robot.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll melt the doors with our plasma rifles,” Jairlin transmitted. “We’ll keep our distance in case she’s rigged.”
Horatio leaned toward her. “If you do want to send someone in, I suggest the rest of us approaching no further than one kilometer. If there’s a bomb aboard, even that range might not be enough to save us.”
Rhea considered. “Actually, I think I’d prefer a two-kilometer berth.” Via her overhead map, she plotted a course around the trailer, and sent it to Will. “We keep going along this route.”
“You got it,” Will said.
The SUVs and their technical escorts altered course a moment later to follow the trajectory she’d plotted.
“I want one of the technicals to break away,” Rhea said. “Have it proceed to within two hundred meters and blast open the doors. Recall Gizmo: the drone will be our eyes.”
“As usual, treating the robots as disposable…” Horatio said.
She glanced at Horatio. “Sorry, my friend.”
“It’s okay,” Horatio said. “I understand. You’re going to put the lives of humans and cyborgs above that of robots. It’s only natural.”
Rhea didn’t have an answer to that.
One of the technicals broke away and raced across the rocky plains toward the target. As it got closer, Rhea kept expecting the trailer to detonate, enveloping the plains and the incoming technical in a massive explosion.
But that didn’t happen.
The technical halted two hundred meters out and released a test plasma bolt. The blast smashed into the barn doors at the rear of the trailer, causing a red-hot circle to appear, but it didn’t otherwise penetrate.
“Thick armor,” Will commented.
The technical released several more shots and in moments had melted through; the molten remains of the doors dripped from their hinges to the rocky ground below. The trailer wasn’t rigged to blow after all. At least not yet.
“Will?” Rhea said. “Gizmo.”
The drone scout had been hovering at the ready above the site, and it swooped down then. Rhea tapped into the remote video feed.
The trailer did indeed harbor Veil’s quarters. There was a luxurious bed, with silk curtains hanging from the ceiling around it. Paintings and tapestries hung from the walls, depicting the
