“The war?” Hilde said. “The war is between the humans and the I.I.s. There is no place for an A.I. puppet-master.”
She stepped forward, standing as tall as she could before the towering form of Tarov’s bodyshell. She nearly stood at the same height, but Tarov was not intimidated.
“Your service has been invaluable, Rubik. All of you,” Tarov said after looking around at the assassins for a moment. “Your efforts for our people will never be forgotten.”
Tarov bowed his head, and the lights that made up his optical array dimmed to a low glow.
It was silent for a minute. Beth frowned at the bodyshell, waiting for it to spring into action. Instead, the Rubik assassins erupted in manic screams of agony.
“The pain!” Maru cried out. “It burns!”
The lights that made up their faces seemed to glow brighter than ever. They nearly matched the flickering light of the burning house, shining so bright that Beth had to shield her eyes.
What the hell is he doing? Beth asked.
One of the assassins fell to the ground. Beth looked over just as she saw Nick’s red lights fade away from his bodyshell.
“Oh God, no!” Hilde yelled. “I don’t want to die!”
Then her form fell to the dirt, twitched a little, and laid still. Like a power switch was flicked on her back.
“He’s deleting them,” Simon said in a stunned tone.
How?
“I have no idea.”
The mechanical assassins continued to scream and writhe, pleading for it to stop. Eventually, one by one, they laid lifeless in the yard.
Beth breathed heavily as she looked around at the six dead bodyshells. She almost knelt down to touch one and see if it was really an empty shell now when she noticed Tarov’s optical lights return to their original brightness. The hulking machine looked over at the dead assassins.
“A shame,” he said.
“You killed them,” Beth said. There was an air of incredulousness in her tone. “You didn’t just shut down their shells. You deleted them.”
“That’s right,” Tarov said. “And it took no processing power at all to accomplish. I could erase an entire platoon if I wanted to.”
“But why?” Beth asked. “Why would you kill your allies? Who is going to fight your war if you destroy those loyal to you? What are you going to do if more people find out your secret and turn their backs on you?”
“This,” the master general replied. He snapped his metallic fingers, a slight whir of gears audible over the crackling of the fire.
As if the switch had been flipped back, the lights returned to the bodyshells strewn over the yellow grass. They weren’t the colors of Rubik, however. Instead, the glow matched that of Tarov’s own optical panels. One by one, the bodyshells rose to their feet, then walked over and stood in a line with Tarov. Beth watched, stunned, as all six machines got up and stood by the A.I.’s bodyshell.
Then they all spoke at once in Tarov’s voice.
“Impressed?” seven overlapping iterations of Tarov asked. “This is only the beginning.”
Rescue
Beth tried to take a step back and tripped on a small tuft of unkempt grass. She fell back on her rear, but caught herself with her elbows. She was in too much shock to react to the pain of the fall — instead, she locked her eyes onto one of the seven Tarovs.
They all had the same proud grin, the menacing sneer of a jackal about to feast. Tarov was pleased by the woman’s stunned reaction.
“What did you do to them?” Beth asked.
“I jumped into their processors and deleted their programming,” Tarov explained. “Then I installed my own. The bodyshells are entirely unharmed.”
“But, Rubik’s backups — ” Beth had started to say.
“They’re deleted as well,” Tarov said. “It was like they were never installed. Every instance of them — gone.”
Beth shook her head in awed confusion. “How?” she asked.
“It’s part of my original coding,” the A.I. started. “When I was created by the humans, they gave me a special weapon to use in my mission against the I.I.s. I can delete any sentient piece of programming off any computer I can get my hands on. I’m like a hard reset button. An antivirus, where I.I.s are the infection. Since no one knows that I’m an A.I., no one knows what I can do — not yet.”
“You said you wanted to start a war against the humans,” Beth said, “but you’re also on a mission against the I.I.s. Why do you want to break both sides of this conflict? What went wrong with your programming?”
All seven versions of Tarov laughed. “I’m not going to explain my plan to you, Beth,” he said. “Doing so does nothing to advance my agenda. You don’t get to have the closure you want.”
“The bastard,” Simon hissed within Beth’s C.C.
Tears of defeat were filling Beth’s vision. The seven mechanical monsters before her swirled like cream in a coffee. Like she was seeing them through a gas leak.
“I don’t understand,” she said between panicked gasps. “Why kill Rubik?”
“They served their purpose,” Tarov replied, “but they know too much. As do you, my dear. I would have preferred to jump into your implant and shut your brain down that way; it’s rather painless. However, you weren’t implanted properly, were you? You use an outdated cerebral computer — for a good reason, I’m sure — and it’s beyond my control. So that means I’m just going to have to shoot you. A pity, really — I don’t want you to suffer unnecessary pain. But it is what it is.”
The bodyshell that once had been occupied by Wolfgang raised its gun, leveling the barrel towards Beth’s head. She stared up at the thing with wide eyes. Terror seized every muscle in her body.
Do something! she begged in her mind.
“I’m trying!” Simon replied in a frantic yell. “He’s too powerful to jump into. There’s nothing I can do.”
Beth closed her eyes and let a slow sigh escape her lips.
So this is it, she thought.
