Founding of the Federation 3: The First AI War (77 page)

“Yeah. I wanted to get more done on the bird but …,” Percy waved a helpless hand. The drop had included parts to fix the bird, but in tearing out the broken fittings and boards they'd found only more problems. Those parts were on “back order.”

Pat looked over to the charging station. He nodded at the row of yellow and green lights. With that they could finally do something about power demand.

He had to hand it to the chimps. Everyone had a job, a purpose. The locals might resent the
loco
gringo monos,
but only the really prideful and ignorant dared challenge them. The occasional show of strength was enough to cow any of the rowdies in the group. That was fine with Pat. Someone had to be in charge and hell if he was going to follow some half-ass spic. The chimps had their collective act together.

“Harper wanted us to take a look at the medical clinic if we finished up here early. You going to knock off for lunch or head over?” Percy asked.

Pat grunted. He toyed with the idea then shrugged. “I don't want to get in too deep, but I suppose we can head on over and do a survey. See what we're getting into. Then come up with a plan and a logistics bill over lunch.”

Percy grinned. “Sounds good to me.”

“I'm an insurance broker. Reduced to …,” Pat heard his translation software kick in, translating a rant from a short thin guy nearby. “This is bull man,” he said. A few people nodded in grim agreement. By the way they hefted their shovels and picks it looked ugly. He turned in place to see Paudrick. A whistle and hand sign to look was all that was needed. Paudrick spoke softly into a throat mike alerting the chain of command.

“They can make machines …”

“We have,” Percy said, wading into the fray before Pat could stop him. “We've tried. Snow blowers, snow machines, the works. But we don't have the parts.”

“That's bull man!” the broker insisted, scowling blackly. “You are making us do this work …”

“Because there is work to be done, and everyone should help out. It's only fair. What do you want to do, sit on your ass?” Percy asked, lifting his chin. “I'm busting my ass with the skills I got. Sorry you can't help there. If you try to learn, maybe you could. But for now,” he pointed to the shovel and then the snow. “Someone's got to move it. Otherwise no one can get to the bathroom.”

“You
gringos
… you think you are so hot,” the broker fumed, hands gripping the shovel tighter.

“Cool off,” Baxter growled, trotting up. He had one hand on his rifle. It was a menacing message for everyone to behave. “The enemy is the robots, remember that,” he growled.

“You
gringos
think you can come here, takeover,” the broker turned the crowd. “They should leave! They should leave the weapons and just go! The robots come for them not us!” He shouted, shovel over his head.

“You are so full of it man,” Percy said in disgust. He felt Baxter's hand pull him back out of the way of a swing of the shovel. “Hey man!” he said, hands up.

“Drop it,” Baxter growled, rifle up and pointed at the man's head. “I'd rather kill a robot, but if I've got to kill someone, it might as well be you.
Him,
we need. You, we
don't
,” he said.

“You are free to leave whenever you wish,” Harper said, coming up behind the group. They looked around to see no-nonsense-looking rather armed guards surrounding them. Suddenly the fight seemed to leach right out of them.

“You
gringos
…” the hothead muttered.

“You want to learn to fight, fine. Fight the robots. You want to leave,” Harper pointed to the nearest gate, “there's the door, don't let it hit you on the ass on the way out.”

“I just might.”

“Oh, that's rich,” Baxter chuckled.

“Go! I mean you stupid …,” Pat shook his head, trying to tune out the invective spiel.

“You've got plenty of energy. Why don't you keep working. You lot,” Harper pointed to the rest of the group. “You want to eat or join your friend?” He pointed to the hot head.

They all ducked their heads, shaking them. After a moment they turned and filed away.

“Maybe a couple hours to work off your temper will get you to start thinking straight,” Harper said, turning away. “But, if you decide to leave, one thing.” He turned to lock his brown eyes with the hot head's. “You don't. Come. Back. Ever.” He held up a warning finger. “You understand?”

The broker nodded dumbly, now cowed.

“Good. Get to work. Baxter, keep an eye on him for a bit. The rest of you, go back to your duties,” Harper ordered.

When the group broke up, Harper passed Pat and Percy. “Don't you two have something to do?” he demanded in passing. Percy rolled his eyes but he refrained from an inappropriate response as they fell in line behind the chimp as he made his way to the medical clinic.

<>V<>

They had to have supplies. There was no ifs, ands, or buts about it.
Had
to have them, Boomer thought bleakly. He knew the damn robots knew that, which was why they were squatting on them. It was an obvious trap with the supplies as bait.

They hadn't resorted to cannibalism yet, but it had come close a few times. A horse steak didn't appall him, no matter how freezer burnt it was.

Cally and Jax had turned into his snipers. They were good; he had to give them credit for that. And Cally had no business mixing it up hand-to-hand, not while pregnant. He'd wanted to get her to abort it but couldn't bring himself to ask. Not when he knew deep down every life was precious.

But it would mean one more mouth to feed and a helpless, loud child to protect in a combat environment where nowhere was safe. Not a happy thought.

He glanced over to her then away. She was getting ready for war with a no-nonsense air he heartily approved of. “You go, girl,” he said ever so softly under his breath. “Ooh rah.”

Out of a lot of things but not out of luck or hope. Not when she had no problem getting on her belly to snipe despite Jax hovering over her from time to time.

“Let's do this,” Cally said through gritted teeth.

“Contractions, dear?” Molly asked worriedly.

“Just hungry,” Cally replied. Her face was gaunt. She was resolute on doing the mission however. “Hopefully this one will work out better than the last three,” she said.

Boomer grunted. She was right. The damn robots had learned a thing or two about setting their traps. For instance, gathering the supplies the humans wanted, then applying a scorched earth approach to them. Destroying them before they were overrun or well beforehand when they were gathered in the first place or poisoning them, which was what had gotten Lobbo back in February.

Their team had turned into raiders. He'd wanted to head south to find warmer weather—not that they'd found much. They'd easily picked off the occasional robot patrol, but each time they fired, they not only gave away their position, they also used up their precious ammunition—especially their heavy sniper ammunition. Jax and Cally each had four rounds left. When they were gone, they were gone.

“We've got movement,” Jax whispered. “Damn it, humans,” he muttered.

“What?” Boomer stage whispered, pulling his own binoculars out from under his jacket. He focused, and sure enough he saw some people down there. At first he thought they were gynoids or androids, but then he saw their breath puffing in clouds. They didn't look happy.

“Cyborgs?” Cally asked softly.

“I'm not … no, I can't see any sort of shit the cyborgs were into. No artificial limbs or shit,” Boomer murmured.

“Then they are traitors,” Jax said in a different tone of voice.

“Hang on,” Roger murmured.

“I don't think hitting them to draw them out so we can raid is going to work. Not with hostages,” Cally murmured. “See the kid?”

“Yeah, I see him,” Jax said, seeing a child running around. “I also see that some of the humans are armed.”

“Frack,” Boomer muttered. “Wanna bet they are Apocalypse worshipers?” he asked as he turned on his side.

Roger and the others stared at him. “Are you … drone!” Roger said as a familiar whir came over their heads. He ducked instinctively. The drone came down and dropped off a package into one guy's arms and then took off again. It didn't seem to notice them as it took off back the way it had come.

“What are we going to do?” Cally murmured.

“Wait,” Boomer murmured as he watched the humans and robots unwrap the package. There was a head in the box, as well as parts for several more. “Son of a...”

“They are fixing them.”

“This place is a bust. We don't have the stones to take it on, even with the explosives we got from that construction site last month,” Jax growled as the humans marched with their hands and the package over their heads to the door. Some danced about. It was a goofy dance, some sort of hallucinogenic I-don't-give-a-shit sort of dance.

“To the left. Check that out,” Jax murmured suddenly, voice intent. They turned to look. “Beyond the robots. You can just see it around the edge of the building. See the fire wood and spit?”

“Yeah …,” Cally said. She gagged and then turned away retching.

Boomer took a look and despite his empty stomach he felt gorge rising. Two of the people were dragging some poor shmuck out in chains. He was lowered slowly onto the spit supports, as the worshipers taunted him, sticking their tongues out or sharpening knives.

One of them tossed a road flare into the pit. It flared up and the man screamed as he got a face full of fire. Boomer looked grimly away.

“We can't do it. Not now. Not with what we've got,” Molly murmured, comforting a softly sobbing Cally.

“Right. Pack up. We're moving on. There is no telling what is inside that building.”

“Where to?”

“That drone went west. I'm betting it has pretty good defense there since it is making stuff, but maybe, just maybe we can find a way in.”

“Shouldn't we go east? No food west,” Jax said.

“Southwest,” Cally said, snuffling as she dashed her tears. “Away from here. We can't take this on; we can't take that on either. But maybe we can warn people to … to steer clear,” her voice ended in a whisper. “God, I feel for that kid.”

“I don't,” Boomer ground out.

“He's just a kid!” Cally said indignantly.

“Yeah, and if he walks up to you with a grenade strapped to his chest and a bright smile on his face?” She winced. He slowly nodded. “He's lost, just like the rest of them down there. They chose their side. We have to look after our own. You get a chance to kill any of them, don't hesitate. They won't.”

She nodded. He locked eyes with the others. Each nodded in turn.

“Good. Move out then.”

<>V<>

Pat looked up to the dripping ceiling. It wasn't so much as dripping as raining. “So, whose wise-ass idea was it to turn the heat up?”

A couple of the natives pointed to Pepe. Pat rolled his eyes. “Shoulda known. Okay, genius, why didn't you shut it off?”

“Cold!” Pepe said, waving his massive hands. “Can't work with it cold!”

“Jesus Mary Joseph, did you have to turn it up to 90?!?” Pat growled as sweat beaded his face. “Damn it, man!”

There was a groan from above. Pat and the others looked up in alarm. When it didn't repeat, they went back to arguing mentioning structure, power, stupidity, parentage, mold, everything, right up until a second louder groan got their attention. “Time to skedaddle. This place is coming down,” Pat said nervously.

He got everyone out just as the apartment complex started to collapse. Harper came pounding up to them. “What the hell happened?” the chimp demanded.

“Well, some geniuses decided to turn the place into a sauna,” Pat said in disgust. The sweat on his face was starting to freeze despite the salt content. Not good. He pulled out a rag and whipped at his face. “The heat melted the ice. The ice was probably what was holding the place together. The weight just made it come down.”

“Damn it,” Harper scowled. He looked at a sheepish and rather undressed Pepe. Pepe had his hands in his armpits and was shivering. “You, sir, are a moron.”

“Tell me about it,” Pat growled, shaking his head. “A little taste of home was too much. Obviously we've got to be careful about how high we push the buildings’ temperatures and how fast,” he said.

Harper eyed him then nodded. “Get some structural people to check on the buildings we're currently occupying. I'll supervise these fools as they dig their gear and stuff out.”

“Cold!” Pepe huffed.

“Going to get colder. Your jacket and shit are in there,” Harper said pointing to the wreckage. “Get digging,” he ordered coldly.

He ignored the cursing as Pepe eyed him then went to work.

Chapter 30

August 5th, 2201

Lieutenant Claudis padded silently behind the human tech. He tried to make himself look less dangerous but he couldn't help it. She kept looking nervously over her shoulder at him, expecting him to chase her down and eat her at any moment.