The fire axe was hanging from a loop on my backpack. I was beginning to think I should make the axe part of my standard equipment. The robot arm I was less sure about. It was threaded under the flap of my pack and I’d brought it along in case I needed the code on its wrist to open another lock.
I wasn’t sure how much force the lid could muster in order to try and close itself, but given that amputation was a real risk, I decided to err on the side of caution. I wanted to wedge the gap open with the most substantial bits of material I could find. I used a military-grade laser cutter to chop four lengths of steel H-beam from the criss-crossed girders that supported the ceiling.
I slid the head of the axe into the gap and levered the lid of the Navigator’s box open wider. There was a loud whining sound as the internal hydraulics tried to close the lid, but I slid a section of the H-beam into the widened gap, positioning it across the corner. I did the same thing for the other three corners. There was some creaking and groaning as the lid strained against the bits of girder, but it didn’t look like the gap was going to be closing again any time soon. It was now safe to put my hands inside the box. Probably.
I shone a flashlight into the box. There was a metal mesh inside and under it a glimpse of something that might be the navigator. I didn’t look more closely because I was distracted by what was lying on top of the mesh. Two mummified forearms complete with hands. I didn’t want to touch them so I used a pair of long-handled pliers to lift them out. I put the arms in the skeleton’s lap – I couldn’t tell from his expression whether he was grateful. I looked back at the box. Even with the bits of girder propping open the lid, I really didn’t want to put my hands in there. Then my eyes wandered over to the robot arm. I picked it up.
“Trixie, can you operate this?”
“I’ll need two if you want me to play Chopsticks.”
Piano playing wasn’t on the agenda, but what I had in mind was going to require two hands and at least one eye inside the Navigator’s box. If we used the robot arm, I would have to risk only one of mine.
I had to plug a tiny receiver into the end of the arm so that Trixie could send control signals to it. She demonstrated that it was working by closing the hand into a fist and extending the middle finger upwards. I ignored her and reached into the backpack to pull out one of the drones and the little medical kit. Just in case. I took off my belt, ready to use as a tourniquet if the worst were to happen.
“Not brimming with confidence, are we?” Trixie asked.
“Tell me where the security robots are,” I said. “How much time have I got?”
“They are currently in the charging area we passed through earlier.”
“Trying to revive their fallen comrades, probably,” I said. I hoped they didn’t have access to the spare parts necessary to reactivate the decapitated robots. “Let me know if they head this way. And monitor the lasers in here, I want to know if they come online.”
The smart thing would have been to get out of there while the security robots were distracted. But that would be to admit defeat. I wasn’t defeated. Not yet.
Chapter Twelve
You can increase the thickness of the walls and door of a safe, but ultimately security depends on how good the locking mechanism is. A safe is simply a strong box with a door and a lock. The lock and the door hinges are typically the weakest points. The Navigator’s casing did away with hinges altogether – the lid opened on four rods which slid out of the casing. They had notches in them like the end of a padlock clasp and also functioned like bolts. The rods were about three feet long when fully extended. So far I’d gotten them to extend only a couple of inches.
The lock on the casing was inside and there was no external keyhole or keypad or dial. To open the casing you needed to get inside the casing to manipulate the lock. It was an ingenious bit of design.
I decided to send a drone into the coffin to have a look around and Gnat got picked for the job. He floated in through the gap and turned on his mini spotlight. He sank slowly downwards, sending pictures to Trixie who projected them on the side of the coffin for me to see. I needed to get a look at the mechanism to see what I was up against. I knew it would be a mechanical lock, they always were. It made the Navigator invulnerable to cyberattack. A mechanical lock cannot be tricked or countermanded. It had to be opened by the Navigator. Or picked from the inside by an expert thief – but what were the odds of that ever happening?
The Navigator didn’t carry a key to open the lock. It was the key. It would extend a quicksilver-like pseudopod towards the lock. The nano-bots in it would turn the silver sliver into the shape of the key. This perfectly matched shape would slide into the lock
