The Deep Dark Well Page 17

  “Why do you distrust me so,” said the computer. “I only have the best interest of all sentients on the station at heart.”

  “And I have my own best interests,” she growled. “Which don’t include letting a machine have unrestricted access to the center of my being. Not put on the damned holo.”

  The holo sprung to life in the center of the room. A familiar face looked out at her, the face of someone she thought she loved. No, not really his face, she thought as she looked into the cold eyes of the psychopath.

  “Vengeance.”

  “Yes, my dear Pandora,” said the voice of the creature. “I may call you Pandora, yes?”

  “What the hell do you want? Computer, can he see me through this thing?”

  “Yes, Pandora, I can,” said Vengeance. “What an interesting name you have. Named after the woman who released all the troubles upon an innocent mankind. One who was cursed forever.”

  “Just tell me what the hell you want, you asshole,” she growled. “And leave off the history lesson.”

  “What I want is you,” said the creature. “I want you to writhe in my sweet embrace. I want your dead and mutilated body to show to my enemy. My brother.”

  “I’m not so helpless now,” she said uncertainly, her hands patting the pistols attached to her webbing, then picking up her rifle.

  “You think those will protect you from the legions I command?” he said with a sneer. “You may destroy some of them, but I will get you. Alive.”

  “Computer. Does he know where I am?”

  “Vengeance does know your current location,” said the computer.

  “How near is he?”

  “Vengeance is not currently in this vicinity.”

  Pandi blew out a soft breath of relief. So it would take the bastard time to get to her, and she didn’t plan to be here when he arrived.

  “However,” continued the computer, “many of his robots are quite near.”

  “Holo off,” she ordered, and the image of Vengeance faded. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me his robots were near?”

  The computer remained silent, as Pandi looked around the room to see if she had forgotten anything. She thought about going back to Wacther’s quarters, to see if she had left anything there, but decided against it. She had her pack, her weapons, and her sanity. That would be all she needed to survive, or she just wouldn’t.

  Out of my mind. With the thought the presence of the central computer left her mind. She could feel it on the fringe, waiting to be invited in. But the invitation would not come soon.

  “Scan room computer,” she ordered. “Is there any way to find my location and map my path without resorting to the brain link implant?”

  “The class one combat helmet can be used to link with the computer system of the station and download current location maps and routing instructions. These will be displayed on the visor of the helmet.”

  “Download now,” she ordered. In an instant a small map of Watcher’s domain appeared on the left upper corner of the visor. She could still see through the visor as if nothing obstructed her vision, though the map was also perfectly clear, and could at a thought turn into a three dimensional representation.

  “OK, I’m outa here,” she said as she went through the door into the hall, weapons at the ready. The rifle was slung around her neck, the large EMP pistol in her right hand. The hall was clear, and she started breathing again, trying to slow her heart with relaxing thoughts.

  “Where are they?” she asked the central computer, allowing access for a moment.

  “Locations will appear on your visor map,” said the computer voice, as red dots sprung into existence. A lot of red dots. All the exits from the area were covered. Quickly counting she decided which exit had the least of the dots, and moved deliberately in that direction.

  “Open the door as soon as I’m within five feet of it,” she ordered the computer, breaking into a run.

  The door slid open quickly as she launched herself into the air, a forward dive, the pistol moving to the right side of the room beyond, where the map indicated two of the three guardians awaited. They're actually there, she thought with relief as the slow motion effect of adrenaline rush overtook her. Standard robots such as Watcher used, with the different color scheme that showed they belonged to Vengeance.

  The barrel tracked onto the first robot as she was falling to the floor. A squeeze of the trigger and the robot stiffened, freezing in place. The barrel moved over as her body hit the ground. She thanked the God she wasn’t sure existed that she had played volleyball as a girl, as her body slid along the floor. A second squeeze and the second robot froze in place, one foot in position to walk forward. Unbalanced, it fell over, and she sprung over it and rolled behind, her head and pistol swinging around to cover the other side of the room.

  The third and last robot was running toward her, faster than a human could possibly move. Not faster than the speed of light, she thought as she lined it up and pulled the trigger. The robot froze in position, all of its electrical systems fused. Its momentum carried it on, and Pandi had to roll out of the way as it crashed down on top of the robot she had been using for cover.

  Funny, she thought, how the old movies, even the newer trivee’s really, always portrayed machinery that was destroyed by electromagnetic pulse as sparking and burning from the surge of power. She had worked with machines all of her life, and had only seen a true electrical fire twice in her career. She had still expected the robots to spark, or do something dramatic when they were hit by this supposedly advanced version of an EMP pistol.

  Where to next? She quickly scanned the map on her visor, tracing out the three different routes from the room. One had red dots in it, moving in her direction. That one was out. The other two were clear, but the exit on the left wall led to a corridor that did not allow egress for quite a length. Not her choice of a bolt hole, with only two directions to go. That left the center entrance.

  With that thought her feet were hitting the floor as she headed toward the doorway at a sprint. She could slow down later, to conserve energy in a jog. Right now she had to get out of here, and fast.

  The door slid open silently and closed just a quietly behind her. She plopped a grenade down in front of the door, setting it to arm in eight seconds with motion fuse. Then she turned and ran down the hall, her eyes keeping a close watch on the many doors, while glancing at the visor map to make sure she wasn’t running into any red dots.

  There were suddenly a half dozen of the hazard indicators in the room she had just left, half moving to each of the other exits from the room. She pumped her arms and legs faster, turning into a doorway as the dots reached the booby-trapped entrance behind her. A glance over her shoulder showed the door sliding open, the arm and leg of a robot visible. Then she was in the small room and ducking for cover. She didn’t know how powerful the grenade was, but she suspected the worst.

  The worst was what she got, as the small grenade went off in the doorway down the hall with a roar. The walls and floor, built of hardened alloys, shuddered under the impact. The door to the room she was in jammed halfway open. What the hell, she thought. Did it have a miniature nuclear warhead in it, or antimatter? The blast wave passed down the hall, some of it eddying hot and hard into the room in which she lay. She pulled her arms up over her head as she pressed the visor into the floor.

  And then it was over, as fast as it had started. She brought her head up and looked into the hall. Bits of debris littered the floor. Cautiously she poked her head around the corner, rifle held at the ready. She was greeted by the remains of a robot scattered along the hall, several large sections and many smaller pieces. The door that she had used to enter the hall was gone, as were the other robots. Probably blown back into the room they were coming from.

  Walls and ceiling had been scorched by the heat of the explosion. She looked with new respect on the small grenades she carried. They gave one Pandora Latham quite a bit of firepower, if she us
ed it properly. But all of the robots would know her general vicinity by now. So it was time to book.

  Pandi jogged down the hall, her eyes carefully scanning every corner, keeping a close watch on the visor map. Confidence filled her now. She had defeated nine of the machines sent to get her, and she wasn’t even close to being out of ammo.

  * * *

  As Pandi entered a large room, getting her orientation, she thought of how she could move herself far from this area of the station. The room looked familiar, like another room she had been in before. Murals covered the walls, showing tall and slender humanoids, not quite human, under a golden sun. Tables and chairs sat in one corner of the forty-meter square room, with a couple of doorways on the other side. Some of the murals on the walls near the tables had some kind of script on them, something that looked to Pandi like Japanese or Chinese writing, with scenes of people dining on exotic looking dishes of fruits and vegetables.

  A restaurant. It had to be a restaurant or cafeteria. It had almost a European flavor to it, like the sidewalk cafes she had sat at in Paris or Koln. All it was missing was an outdoors, and the high ceiling and bright lighting made it seem like a sunny outside. And if it was a cafe, it must be near to other public facilities, possibly even a transport station.

  That was what she needed. A train car to take her swiftly away from here. She could stop it at several different stations, and make them guess where she had gotten off. Looking at the map, she could see that a number of large rooms lay ahead, but nothing that looked like the configuration of a transport station.

  “Computer. Is there a transport station near here?”

  “Yes. There is one less than a kilometer from here,” answered the computer. “I will indicate on your map which direction to take.”

  “Ok,” she said as she strode off in the direction of the arrow on her map, heading for a large glass or plastic door at the near side of the room.

  The next chamber was also very large, larger than the restaurant. It looked like a promenade, with windows and doors along each side, planters and benches in the center. Her curiosity got the better of her, as she moved to the side of the hall, looking in at the displays in the windows. Shops. When could she ever avoid shops? In better times she might find areas like this and help herself to the wares. But for now all she would let herself do is look while she moved on.

  There were windows full of manikins clothed in styles strange and bizarre. Colors of shining neon were the most common. The general shape was of the slender humanoids she had seen in the restaurant murals. This must have been their area.

  Other windows held bottles that might been perfumes or lotions. Strange gadgets filled other windows, most compact, like trivee remote controls. She was sure they did other things than just control entertainment, though. One window held what looked like small weapons, such as one could carry concealed. Another what seemed to be book viewers, with small cartridges arranged around them, many with pictures and script on their fronts.

  “Vengeance’s robots are coming,” warned the computer.

  “From where?”

  “From behind. They have been tracking you through the restaurant, and are about to enter this hall.”

  Damn, she thought, but the map didn’t give as full a view behind as in front, and there had been too much hall behind her to fit in the display.

  “They have stunners,” said the computer.

  “Stunners?” she asked, as she started into a fast jog down the promenade.

  “Weapons capable of using sonic beams to stun the nervous system of the target. You should be very careful.”

  “Short range weapons?”

  “Unfortunately no. They have a range of over a kilometer.”

  She looked down the hall, seeing a good stretch ahead of her. None of the doors to the stores had opened as she passed, and she guessed they were closed for the duration. But the planters looked thick and sturdy.

  Pandi hit the ground in a roll, landing behind a planter, looking around it as she set the selector switches on her rifle. She waited a second or two before the first of the robots walked into the promenade. It took a position a couple of meters to the side of the door, as a quartet of companions marched through and began to spread out, searching the hall in sections.

  Pandi aimed at the closest, about seventy meters away, and squeezed the trigger. The weapon thutted quietly as it launched the low velocity projectiles toward the robot. She swept the rifle across the formation of robots, as it sent five projectiles a second at the creatures.

  The explosions of the microgrenades burst along the wall, spreading pieces of robot and building material across the edge of the promenade. Within seconds they were all down, no movement other than pieces of metal rolling or sliding across the floor. Her access to the computer had told her they were basic utility robots, not combat models. But she also knew combat models existed, and there were sure to be some on the station.

  A warning beep on the rifle caught her attention. A light on the ammo bar was lit up, showing she only had a trio of remaining microgrenades. She switched to minishapes as she stood up and surveyed the damage.

  “There are more coming,” said the computer. “Thirty-five to be exact.”

  “From where those came from?”

  “Yes.”

  Pandi gripped the rifle tightly as she ran full speed through the rest of the promenade. She turned at the exit door, just as one of the following robots brought its weapon to bear. She sent a spray of minishapes into it across the long promenade, the weapon pushing hard into her shoulder. The robot went down as she went through the door. One down, a million to go. The thought brought forth a short laugh. She wondered if there were enough weapons on the station for her to defeat what was coming after her. She did know there weren’t enough of her to wield all of them if there were.

  The next room was another restaurant, laid out in the same manner as the last, with the exception of heavy wall hangings of silken material. Her map showed another large room ahead, one that looked like a station. No red dots shown in her view. She was home free.

  The station was a beautiful sight. Not just because of the luxurious opulence of a transport center matching the wealth of the surrounding area. A car sat in the tube running through the center of the long room.

  Then she noticed the large statue at the end of the station. She thought it was a statue, until it began to move. The red dot appeared out of nowhere on her display.

  “How come you didn’t warn me about him?” she asked the computer as she brought her rifle up.

  “The battle robot was in stealth mode until you entered his range,” it replied.

  Pandi squeezed and held the trigger, sending and endless stream of minishapes into the breast of the robot. It continued forward, the bright flashes of explosions on its chest plate. Pandi checked for damage, releasing the trigger for a second. There were some small pits on the once smooth chest plate, but nothing else to show for her efforts.

  She switched fire to the face, watching the flurry of explosions, but the robot slowed not a bit. The rifle stopped bucking in her hands, the display indicated she had run out of minishapes. Well, she thought as she switched the selector, it was still far enough away to risk microgrenades, so she let it have the three she had left in her drum, right in the head. The explosions rocked the robot back slightly, but it advanced through the cloud of smoke and fire, none the worse for wear.

  “Shit.” All she had now were ball rounds, and she didn’t have time to change drums. She dropped the rifle to hang from her neck by the strap as she pulled the EMP pistol, leveled it at the robot, and fired.

  Absolutely nothing happened. She checked the pistol to make sure it was charged. Full.

  “Dammit,” she said as she ducked behind a support. “Help me. What can I do to stop that thing from killing me?”

  “If it meant to kill you it would have done so. It is under orders to take you alive.”

  “No thanks,” s
he swore as she pulled a grenade from one of her belt pouches, then another. Quickly she armed them with dead man switches, set to go off two seconds after she released them. She would much rather die than end up back in that sadistic devil’s hands. And she might just take the robot with her.

  “Might I suggest you throw them at the robot,” said the computer. “It is under orders to take you alive, and to allow no harm to come to you.”

  She got the idea in an instant. Pandi twirled around the column, tossing the grenades in the direction of the robot. It reached out and grabbed the grenades as they came at it, pulling them into its body. Pandi dove back behind the column as the grenades detonated.

  Uh oh, she thought as pieces of column fell on her. The computer’s idea might not have been the best if she was crushed under masonry. She grunted as some heavy pieces hit her in the back and the suit impact armor went rigid. Another bounced off of her helmet, and she thanked whatever God there was that the hard hat was on her head.

  She pulled herself out from under fallen material, looking up to see that the central structure of the column had weathered the explosion. Cracked masonry had broken away, but the hard alloy material in the center had taken up the impact. Pieces of the outer shell still clung to it.

  Pandi checked herself for broken bones and torn flesh, but the suit had protected her well. Some stiffness, but everything seemed to operate well enough. She gingerly picked herself up off the ground and moved around the column to see what was left of the robot.

  More than she would have thought. Essentially it was intact, with the exception of the gaping holes torn in the armored chest of the creature, and the fused and melted ends of the arms where once its hands attached.

  “Next time we get to an armory,” she said to the computer, “show me where the antitank weapons are.”

  “Tanks?”

  “Heavy weapons. Rocket launchers and such. Are there any more of these things around here?”

  “None within range of my scan,” said the computer. “But if they are in stealth mode there is no way I could pick them up.”