“I’ll have enough trouble protecting myself, let alone a team of Wardenites,” she agreed. “By the way, there isn’t all that much room aboard Targon’s vessel, in case you forgot.”
“I haven’t forgotten,” Will said. “I tried telling the others, but they insisted on coming. We’re going to be thoroughly packed in.”
She hadn’t reenabled the Faraday cage, so when a call appeared on her HUD a moment later, she received the notification immediately.
She accepted the call and DragonHunter’s hologram appeared before her. She shared the feed with Will.
“What’s up?” she asked. “You’ve found a way to infiltrate the Martian presidential palace?”
“Not exactly,” DragonHunter said. “I’ve been continually monitoring dispatches from the office of Khrusos, thanks to the little cyber payload you installed for me, and I got some bad news. I just found out that the Martian government issued a warrant for your arrest.”
“Guess we spoke too soon about Khrusos not arresting you,” Will commented.
Rhea glanced at Will. “He knows I’m coming.”
“Potentially,” Will agreed.
“Thank you, DragonHunter,” Rhea told him. “I appreciate the heads-up.”
“Yeah, you’ll also want to liquidate your current headquarters ASAP,” DragonHunter said. “Because you see, Khrusos also issued an arrest warrant for you on Earth as well. Aradne security robots are en route to your present location at this very moment. Several divisions of them, in fact. It looks like they’re not going to take ‘no’ for an answer…”
Rhea shot Will an urgent glance, then told DragonHunter: “Thanks.”
“Welcome. Good luck.” He disconnected.
Rhea got up, but before she could even gather her belongings, she received a call from Renaldo.
“We have a problem,” Renaldo said.
4
Rhea had been walking to the closet, but she stopped in her tracks. “Let me guess, we’re surrounded by robot troops.”
“That’s right,” Renaldo said. “Take a look. This is from a Wardenite on patrol outside.”
She received a share request; when she accepted, a video feed filled her vision. She forwarded it to Will.
The live footage depicted the headquarters as viewed from the rooftop; the Wardenite doing the transmitting was standing at the edge, overlooking the sprawling cargo containers of the lower levels. Beyond the Texas barriers that formed the perimeter of the compound stood different divisions of military robots: two-legged mech divisions, equipped with electrolasers, missiles, and plasma turrets; smaller robot infantry divisions, armed with shoulder-mounted RPG launchers and forearm-mounted rifles. The defensive laser turrets positioned at intervals atop the Texas barriers mostly targeted the bigger mechs. But some were pointed upward.
Glancing overhead, Rhea understood why: hundreds of octocopter drones hovered in place like a swarm of locusts frozen in time, their deadly laser mounts dangling underneath, tracking the Wardenites scattered across the compound grounds.
The main entrance to the compound was closed, with the defending robots there having replaced the concrete barrier that served as gate, effectively locking out the enemy. Until the mechs decided to bash their way inside, that is.
As she watched, one of the armed Wardenites used a jetpack to thrust to the top of the concrete; he hovered there, waving his rifle menacingly, and shouted at the robots, telling them to go away. The iron monstrosities neither answered, nor budged.
Rhea had seen enough. She dismissed the video feed.
“Gather all who’ve volunteered to go to Mars, and get down here as fast as you can,” she told Renaldo.
“Will do,” the Wardenite said, and disconnected.
From the closet, Rhea retrieved her hooded cloak, along with her utility belt, which contained a holstered pistol. She donned the cloak, attached the belt, and abandoned her remaining belongings—which were just clothes anyway. There would be water, food pills, and other supplies waiting in the SUV.
She willed the nano machines in her legs to part her thigh armor and retrieved the Ban’Shar from the storage compartments within. She slid them onto each palm, then left her quarters, entering the neighboring chamber with Will.
“I’m going to grab my gear,” Will said. “Give me two secs.”
“Wait,” Rhea said. “There’s gear in the SUVs.”
“Not mine,” he told her as he clambered the rungs on the far side of the chamber.
When he vanished from sight, Rhea went to the rightmost wall and felt around until she felt the grips for the hidden panel. She squeezed, and the locking latch disengaged, allowing her to slide the panel aside.
The small tunnel awaiting beyond edged into view.
Along with the humanoid cyborg that had been standing there waiting for her.
Rhea leaped to the side as it fired a plasma pistol, but was too late, and the point-blank bolt tore off her right arm.
She activated the Ban’Shar of her remaining arm, and cut upward, slicing the pistol away. Then she lifted her thumb, causing the plasma disk to transform into a backward-facing blade, and plunged it into the cyborg’s metal torso.
The assassin fell drunkenly to his knees.
Rhea removed the Ban’Shar and deactivated it. She rested her palm on his metallic shoulder and allowed the nano machines to flow forth.
The ant-like robots swarmed over her foe, and she grinned maliciously as they devoured the metal of his torso. Some of the machines traveled back into her body, and transferred the material to her other extremity, so that little by little, her severed arm regrew.
The light winked out in those eyes as the cyborg’s power source failed, and her would-be assassin slumped against the dirt wall of the tunnel.
She gazed searchingly into the tunnel beyond, looking for signs of attackers. She activated a LIDAR burst to map the darkness, but the white polygons that overlaid her vision indicated no further opponents. The Wardenites had created the tunnel to offer an escape from scenarios precisely like the present one, where the headquarters became surrounded by an insurmountable force, though the thinking at the time had been to protect her from the onslaught of some crime lord or other resourceful assassin who wanted to collect her bounty, not an entire military force. Also, the designers apparently hadn’t considered that an assassin might actually discover the backdoor and use
