“Who are they?” Jade was on her feet, watching the viewscreen with me when R11 intervened.
“Don’t be afraid. Those are the Stin,” he advised us.
I compared their readouts to the Stin traveling with us and saw they were identical. “Why didn’t they tell us they had thousands of friends waiting for our arrival?”
“I guess they wanted to surprise you,” R11 said. “Did it work?”
Luther grunted a laugh. “My heart skipped a beat. Does that count?”
We flew closer to make out the shapes around us. The Stin vessels formed a long tunnel, directing us to their base. I raced directly ahead of Killer, taking the lead for our fleet, and was the first one to see the structure.
I decelerated the moment I spotted the base. It was gigantic.
“It’s twice the size of Earth,” Jade whispered.
And it was. Their base was constructed of metal, a complex hive of electronics, girders, rivets, and panels. Lights emitted from countless locations, all different colors and patterns. “What is this place?” I asked softly.
“This is Stin.” R11’s voice carried some reverence.
“The Stin?” I wanted to confirm.
“Stin. Singular. They have evolved from individuals to a hive mind, to a single entity,” R11 told us. “We are now at Stin.”
“This entire structure is one entity? Stin?” I was curious and terrified all at once.
The lights faded, and a circle on the exterior of the humongous sphere lit up. It was clearly a ring, and reminded me of the starting line of a Pod Sprint. I entered the opening, eager to find where I was being led. It was a tunnel. Lights continued to guide our path as we traveled deeper into the computerized planet. Only Varn, and the Pursuer with Trid and Zonrial on board, followed us inside.
I wondered if the Darlor leader or the Hidan woman had ventured here.
“Incredible.” To someone like Jade, this would be more exciting than a photo finish at the end of a Race.
The tunnel wasn’t completely solid. I could tell it was comprised of numerous panels, and miniscule drones hovered discreetly. I identified various robots walking inside the structure. Most of them were nothing like a humanoid R11, but a couple mirrored a bipedal life-form shape.
We continued on for another twenty minutes, flying deeper into the Stin mechanical planetoid, and finally, the tunnel broke away, opening into a cavern.
“This is the core,” Jade said. “The center of this world.”
The circular platform in the middle of the giant open room had blinking yellow lights along the edge, indicating that was our destination.
“Please depart your craft upon arrival. I have sealed the room. The environmental controls have been attuned to the human, Darlor, and Hidan parameters. You will be safe.” The voice of Stin was different than the others. This one was friendlier, warmer. More organic.
When the message stopped, I checked with Jade. “Is he telling the truth? Can you test the air outside?”
Jade used her PersaTab and nodded. “The sensors indicate it’s safe.”
“Until he pulls the plug and sucks us into space,” Luther grumbled.
“Why would Stin go to all this trouble, only to kill us? It makes no sense,” Jade told him.
“I agree. R11, you trust this thing?”
“Me? I believe that Stin is working with the Darlor and Hidan.”
“And us?” I asked.
“It would seem we are an extension of their allegiance,” R11 added.
I landed, with Killer beside me. Our Racers were miniscule on the massive platform. Trid’s Darlor Pursuer dwarfed us.
“Let’s meet Stin,” I said.
A minute later, we stepped off our Racer and met with Varn, Aster, and Jinx. They peered around curiously, and Jinx walked over to us. “Hawk, I have to thank you again for recruiting me. This is the most complex program I’ve ever seen. One database, building itself into a megastructure like this? It’s beyond my comprehension.”
“I know I might regret asking this, but do you think working with an AI is a good idea?” I met his gaze, and he licked his lips while considering the complicated question.
“There’s a reason we set limitations on our artificial intelligence at home. The most we use it for is commercial advertising. ‘Link your PersaTab to learn more’ kind of crap. Early on, during the beginning of the Tech Wars, a man named Neil Cawdron took it upon himself to create a program that would solve the world’s crisis. He called it Preclude.”
I’d heard about this but wasn’t well-versed on the subject. “Wasn’t that like three hundred years ago?”
“Two fifty,” Jinx said. “Preclude began slowly, but once the other nations heard of Cawdron’s plan, they invested in it, sharing data previously hidden from all governments. Preclude took this, and his mind grew. Before Cawdron knew what had happened, the AI dismantled the safeguards, locked his creator out, and had access to all electronics around the world. Preclude controlled the mining systems, the first Mars colony, and anything else connected to the primary servers. Mars was destroyed. The people were killed. No air. No life. No bueno.”
“I remember it now.” I glanced at the invisible barrier giving us air. “Cawdron ended up dead, didn’t he?”
“He sacrificed himself. He sneaked in and fried the servers, but not before being attacked by a horde of angry robots controlled by Preclude. It’s a lesson every programmer and engineer student is taught on day one. Don’t trust an AI.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I told him.
“I’m here to help.” Jinx wandered off, walking to a rolling robot. He picked it up, examining the underside.
A projection appeared from the center of the platform, drawing our attention. “Welcome to Stin.”
It showed a planet, a green and welcoming world, with blue skies and white clouds.
“Thank you for the invitation, Stin,” Trid told it. “We are grateful for your assistance.”
“My appendages updated my network. The Velibar may have invaded the original Stin planet, but I am no longer attached to their flesh and blood. I lack the emotional connection to their sacrifice but find it intriguing. Do you
