Stolen Earth, page 17
They completed the rest of the flight in total silence, and if the captain had any difficulties with atmospheric flight, it didn’t show in his approach or landing. She suspected that Lynch knew that an ongoing conversation with One could only serve to unsettle them and had taken steps to silence the AI. It was the sort of thing Lynch just did—take on the responsibility of shielding his crew from potential harm. Some might have resented that; after all, they were all shareholders in the Arcus. But for her part, Rajani was glad the captain was willing to shoulder that burden.
Sitting where she was, Rajani had the opportunity to view the full sensor data—well, the passive sensor data; she wasn’t about to try to ping anything in the area with active scans. The readouts painted an interesting picture. The journey from the camp had taken them over forests and across at least one low mountain range. The other side had been more forest, forest that looked like it had stood for centuries, but she knew absolutely nothing about Old Earth botany. Then the forests had thinned, giving way abruptly to gently rolling land. Or land that would have been gently rolling if it wasn’t scarred by innumerable craters. The vista left in the wake of warfare was almost beautiful. The deepest parts of the craters had filled with water, creating a series of shallow lakes; the pushed out berms of earth created by the impacts were no longer jagged mounds of outthrust dirt, but something more gentle and rounded by the wear of weather and time. A soft carpet of grasses and wildflowers covered them, lending the entire scene an almost pastoral air.
It was hard to believe that such land could ever have been threatened by something as mundane as human activity. It looked… eternal, somehow. More solid than the stars. But she knew it had been threatened; threatened to the point that the peoples of Old Earth had faced food shortages, rising sea levels that caused massive population shifts and widespread unrest, and new weather patterns that desiccated long-standing arable lands into desert. She could see the scars of war, but it seemed the scars of bad policy and mismanagement that had led to the wars healed more quickly.
Once you removed over ninety percent of the human population, anyway.
The landing area wasn’t obvious. There were no lights, no concrete pad, and, so far as the naked eye could see, no weapons systems. But the sensors still flashed, warning her of the barrage of untimely death that lurked beneath the greenery. Despite his protestations to One, Lynch brought the Arcus in like it was riding a rail, a smooth transition from flight to ground that she barely felt as the ship settled down onto its landing gear.
“All right, people,” Lynch said, his voice coming not just to Rajani’s ears but transmitting over the comm as well. “Assemble in the airlock. Bring your gear, but keep your weapons locked down unless something attacks.” He paused for a brief second, as if waiting for any of them—or One—to reply. No one did. “Let’s go meet an AI,” he said.
GRAY
Gray shrugged his shoulders, settling the sling into a more comfortable position. It left his weapon with the barrel down and to the left, in easy reach to grab if he needed it. Then he cleared his throat and looked up at his assembled crew, awaiting his word to exit the airlock and step back out onto the planet that had tried damn hard to kill them once already.
“This job has gone a little sideways,” he admitted.
“You think?” Federov asked, and Gray had to smile at the round of chuckles that swept through those standing before him.
“I thought the Telos job was bad,” Bishop agreed. “But at least on that one, we only lost an engine, our pay, and a good bit of my wardrobe.” He said the words with a smile, but Gray could hear the undercurrent of trepidation.
“It was all out of style, anyway,” Hayer said. There was fear in her voice, too, but her eyes were bright with anticipation.
Morales grunted. “I know I’m relatively new here, but is now a good time to talk about a raise?”
“All right,” Gray said, raising his hands as he laughed. “A little sideways might be an understatement. But we’re here now and we’ve got a job to do. I have no idea what we’re about to step into, so keep your heads on a swivel. But do not—repeat, do not—start shooting unless you’re damn well certain that something is trying to kill you. This would not be a good time for any misunderstandings between us and One.”
He got affirmations and nods all around, and, with a steadying breath, turned and hit the button to cycle the airlock. He had his faceplate closed on his ship suit, for at least a little ballistic protection as well as providing him with enhanced targeting and communication capabilities, and they still had no real idea what to expect from One. His hands itched to be on his weapon and every instinct screamed that he needed to be ready for violence right now.
That was the kind of instinct that he’d spent a lifetime listening to, and to good avail. Now, he had to force himself to ignore it.
The airlock cycled and the door opened.
And a fucking dog came running up the ramp barking and wagging its tail excitedly. Gray didn’t know much about dogs. They were a rarity in space even though they, along with cats and a few other species, had made it off planet. Not during the evacuation, when every breath of air, gram of food, and ounce of fuel were precious beyond all imagining, but prior to that, when SolComm was just a fledgling collection of stations and people could return to Old Earth whenever they wanted. Like so much else, when the evacuations came and the refugees had to be sheltered and fed, pets became something that only the wealthy could afford: another mouth to feed, another set of lungs that needed air. That had eased somewhat in the intervening years, but Gray hadn’t ever personally known anyone with a dog.
The others apparently hadn’t either as, in the moment the barking wiggling ball of fur made its way to the ramp he felt the tension in the others spike. It was hard not to react to what looked like a solid sixty pounds of muscle, fur, and teeth headed in your direction. But there was no aggression in the barking or in the body language of the animal. It was, Gray realized, a decidedly happy sound.
The dog hit his legs, thrusting its head up toward his hand in an irresistible demand for attention. Gray’s ruffled its mottled brown-and-black fur as the animal licked excitedly at his gloved fingers.
“It’s so cute!” Hayer exclaimed, crouching down to rub the creature’s ears. It immediately turned its attention to her, and she laughed as the dog squirmed and wagged its tail in response. Gray was just as happy; the animal was certainly cute, but it was also a distraction.
Federov issued a bark of his own. “Incoming.”
Gray’s attention snapped away from the dog and back to the surrounding area even as he silently cursed himself for falling prey to the distraction. Sure enough there was… something. It looked like a floating orb of chromed steel, mirror-smooth and nearly as reflective. It simply hovered there, with no visible sign of propulsion or motion. It seemed to be aware enough to notice when the crew’s attention turned to it.
One’s voice came from somewhere within the shining surface. “Bandit, come.”
The dog immediately turned and romped happily down the ramp, tail still wagging. It went and sat directly beneath the shining orb, mouth hanging open and tongue lolling out in a doggy grin.
“One, I presume?” Gray was careful to keep his hands well away from his weapons.
“Man,” Bishop muttered. “I wanted to pet the dog, too.”
“Bandit will be grateful for the attention, Mr. Bishop,” One said. “And no, Captain Lynch, this vessel is not, strictly speaking, me. Think of it as a portable communication device.”
“And weapons platform,” Federov added, making no effort to keep his voice quiet.
“And weapons platform,” One agreed. “Please, follow the bouncing ball.”
Gray heard someone—Morales?—snort at that, but they all made their way down the ramp, following the glowing orb. Hayer moved up to his side and tapped her helmet controls, opening her faceplate. She gestured for Gray to do the same. It took him a moment, but he realized her intent. One had broken the encryption on their comm, but maybe if they tried communicating the old-fashioned way, it wouldn’t catch on. He opened his own helmet and, as casually as possible, disabled his comm.
“What is it?” he asked, sotto voce.
“I think we can say the locals’ theory is correct,” Hayer whispered back.
Hayer, Gray thought, was not the easiest person to have a secretive conversation with. Bishop could covey his thoughts with a wink, Federov with a frown and Morales with a grunt, but Hayer was on a different wavelength to the rest of them. “Yeah. Remind me again which theory that was?”
“The drobots. Look at that thing.” She didn’t point, but instead tilted her head ever so slightly toward the floating orb. The dog bounded happily beneath it, leaping up every so often to nip at it as if it were the world’s largest tennis ball, bringing an involuntary smile to Gray’s lips. “Compare it to the things that attacked us when we first landed.”
Gray thought about it. There really wasn’t much to go on with the orb. Despite the complete lack of any sort of obvious propulsion system, it seemed able to maintain perfectly smooth and level flight with no heat or noise that he could detect. The orb was a small platform, but even so, it was an impressive feat of engineering. It had no obvious sensors or weapons systems either, for that matter, though Gray had no doubt that both of those were present. And given that the thing had nothing resembling limbs, Gray would wager it wasn’t going to try to stab them or bear them down under the literal weight of numbers like Bishop’s drobots had. Which meant that the weapons it had were probably of the energy or projectile variety.
“Seems a little more advanced,” Gray admitted.
“A little?” Hayer made a strangled sound as she tried not to sound too derisive. “Captain…” She drew in a deep breath. “This One creature is obviously capable of producing technology far superior to what attacked us when we landed.” Gray nodded. “Compared to this, the things that attacked us were Stone Age tech. We got pinged by all kinds of targeting radar and even the passive sensors picked up enough energy readings to suggest that we’re standing on a mountain of explosive power. The drobots came running at us to kill us with the equivalent of sharp sticks and rocks.”
“You are very astute, Dr. Hayer.”
The words drifted to them, originating from somewhere within the smooth surface of the metallic orb. “I can assure you that I mean you no harm. Provided that you return the sentiment, of course. In fact, unless I am mistaken, I think we will be able to arrive at a mutually beneficial arrangement. But as I understand such things, your kind do not multi-task well. I suggest you maintain focus on your surroundings until such time as we are within the safety of my bunker.”
Hayer looked at Gray with wide eyes and he could only shrug in return. One seemed to have very astute auditory sensors—either in the orb that had greeted them or blanketing the area in general—in addition to whatever else it had going for it. Which really wasn’t surprising, but it was another fact to be filed away. Gray did not want to make this creature—as Hayer had called it—his enemy, but he would get his crew off this godforsaken rock and back to space where they belonged, and every bit of information he could gather might prove useful to that end. Still, One had a point: humans really did suck at multi-tasking. He turned his attention to his surroundings.
He’d seen the crater-strewn field from above, but it looked different now that he was on the ground. The damage from multiple impacts was less noticeable, the ground cover seeming more natural than it did from the air. Lush grasses cushioned his footfalls and a gentle breeze set the branches of the scattered trees to swaying. It was idyllic, an artist’s rendition of Old Earth… provided you forgot about that aerial view and the obvious signs of war. And there was life everywhere. Space was empty and vast. Aboard the Arcus, the crew could go for weeks, months if they really wanted to, without ever seeing another living thing. Here, everything was life and movement. Birds chirped, insects buzzed, and in the distance, a deer stood, grazing upon the grasses not forty meters away with no concern for Gray or his crew. He knew those creatures from his schooling alone and never thought to lay eyes upon any of them in the flesh. The biodiversity made scanning for actual threats all the more difficult.
The history books said that much of that biodiversity had been threatened, not by war, but by hubris. As he scanned the unfamiliar terrain, Gray couldn’t help but wonder just how blind the Old Earthers had been to throw all this away. They had had a land of plenty and had squandered it to greed and war. Gray could understand it; he understood privation and want as well as any man. At least, he thought, as he drew in a lungful of air heady with the scents of the meadow, the land had proved more resilient than those who, through accident or artifice, had tried to destroy it.
“We have arrived,” One said as they reached a hillock, one that to Gray was indistinguishable from any of the other mounds of grass-covered dirt surrounding them. He felt more than saw the rest of the crew come to a stop behind him; his attention was split between the area around them and One’s proxy before them. The dog—Bandit—was staring intently at the hill, tail wagging wildly. It, at least, seemed to know what was going on.
“I’m guessing there’s more to it than this hill, One,” Gray said.
“There is.” There was a pause, no more than a few seconds, but noticeable. The crew of the Arcus exchanged confused stares. The AI had led them here, presumably to get them out of danger and to a place they could speak with one another. Why hesitate now?
One spoke. “If your presence is some elaborate ploy from one of the other intelligences, a new way to attempt an infiltration of my command bunker, then I must warn you, it will fail. And in so doing, result in your deaths.”
It spoke without inflection, without emotion, and without threat. But these weren’t the words of a being that couldn’t think or feel. They were the words of someone concerned for their own survival and willing to fight to maintain it. Damn. No one seemed certain what to say, but one by one, all eyes turned to Gray.
Burden of command, and all that.
“We mean you no harm,” Gray said at last. “I suspect you tracked our entry to Old Earth and you’ve clearly demonstrated your ability to infiltrate our communications. If we were some part of a broader plot… well, it’s a pretty terrible plan.”
One did not respond, but Gray felt the ground around him move. Federov muttered a curse and Bishop let out a muted, “Whoa,” as the hillock before them… melted. The earth and grasses moved, as if of their own accord, starting toward the top and rolling outwards. It took him a moment to realize that the hill wasn’t a hill at all, and that the cover of grasses and earth that blended so seamlessly into the terrain around them was likewise not what it seemed—it was as if millions, hell, maybe billion or trillions, of particles so small that, individually, he couldn’t distinguish them with his naked eye—had suddenly shifted. It reminded him of water, or mercury, flowing with a liquid grace.
As the hillock melted, it changed. The greens and yellows and browns faded to a simple matte gray that pooled around the base of the revealed structure. Bandit barked happily at the moving mass, bouncing to its feet and darting back and forth in front of the hill, staring intently at one section of the revealed structure.
“They’re nanobots!” Hayer exclaimed, taking a few involuntary steps forward.
“Correct, if limited in the analysis,” One replied. “The adaptive camouflage the entrance to the command bunker employs is made up of microscopic biomechanical organisms. ‘Nanobots’ is a gross oversimplification, but an acceptable moniker nonetheless. Please follow me.” A vertical split appeared in the otherwise flat gray wall that the nanobots had revealed. It continued to broaden, opening into a hallway slanted steeply downward and lit by a pale glow that seemed to be coming directly from the ceiling itself. The walls were that same featureless gray, but both ceiling and floor were institutional white. Gray couldn’t tell if it was concrete, or composite, or some sort of seamless ceramic tile as he watched the orb drifting down the hall, Bandit trotting along beneath it.
“Crazy fucking robots,” Federov muttered. “I’m getting tired of it. And now there is dog.”
“Come on, Federov,” Bishop rejoined. “Maybe it’ll be fun. Who knows what kind of cool things we’re going to see in there. And you know what? I don’t think I’ve ever petted a dog.” To Gray’s ear, it sounded like the mechanic was trying to convince himself as much as the mercenary.
Hayer was staring in fascination at the nanobots pooling around the base of the hill; Morales met his eyes and gave him something that was part headshake and part shrug. He understood exactly. Going into the bunker didn’t seem like a great idea, but they’d come this far. Besides, if they turned back now, it was just as likely that One would blow the Arcus out of the air as it was that it’d let them go. Nothing to do but to move forward. He was supposed to be the leader here. Might as well lead from the front.
They followed the orb and the darting dog down the sloping hallway, which switched back three times before ending at another set of doors, these made of metal. At first glance, they looked like the doors to every elevator that Gray had ever set eyes upon and, sure enough, a faint ding sounded as they opened. He did note then that they were not like the other elevator doors he had seen. Each was over half a meter thick. Gray estimated that the hallway had taken them at least a dozen meters underground with its steep slope and hairpin turns. Before they reached the elevator. He could already feel the oppressive weight of all that earth above his head. He suspected they were nowhere near the bottom.
“How far down does this thing go?” he asked as he followed the orb onto the elevator. It was, at least, spacious enough to accept the floating metal ball and all the members of the Arcus’s crew with some room to spare… even with the dog shifting restlessly in its spot beneath the floating orb. Everyone looked tense, nonetheless.
