Machines Of Eden Part 20

Gaia was trying to say something more when she triggered the electrode field, and the sound continued like a glitching audio track as she was engulfed in a visible hot-orange blast of transparent energy. The burst only lasted a second, and the sound died away rapidly as Gaia fell to the earth at the foot of the tree. Her white frame was still intact, but smoke bled from under the eye panels and out the mouth slit as she lay there with her head tilted to one side.

"Her internals are combusted beyond repair," Eve said, turning around and facing the man in front of her on the ground. "I'm so glad I arrived when I did."

"I almost had her," John rasped, ma.s.saging his throat.

"Your humor is droll, but meanwhile the countdown is ticking toward apocalypse. You must return with me to the Facility. Once we have halted the threat there, I will take care of you until we can rebuild this body for you."

"Wait, now you want me to inhabit that abomination?" he asked incredulously as he pointed at the smoking Gaia body. "While you run around in your brand new suit?"

"It's not ideal," Eve replied, "but we must carry on. I saved your life for a purpose."

"You're backwards," he said. "Doesn't work for me. I'll have nothing to do with- LOOK OUT! She's getting up again!" He feigned panic, pointing at the inert cyborg under the tree.

The portion of Eve embodied in the android, entirely dependent on her self-contained sensors, fell for it. She turned, arms up and ready to grapple with the threat, and John took his opportunity. Running toward her, he launched himself off of a fallen tree trunk and slammed into the android's back as hard as he could. Eve stumbled forward, catching herself and preventing a fall, but going a few centimeters too close to the tree.

As John fell to the ground, bruised and aching, the electrode field activated again, and Eve's android body dropped next to Gaia. The sleek white sh.e.l.l twitched once and a high-pitched whine came from its thin white lips. Then it cut out with a pop, and everything was quiet.

"It would never have worked out," he said as he got up again, ma.s.saging his shoulder. "You won't understand, but it just wouldn't."

He started walking back to the Facility.

25.

Nut was hiding just above the ceiling of the observation deck, crouched between two fan tubes that were each bigger than he was. Eve couldn't get at him up there, and it afforded him the only view of the outside he ever got. He peered through a grating at the crystal windows stretching across the observation deck, scanning for movement. There was none.

He wondered if the cyborgs would return to the Facility or if the danger was over. He considered creeping outside to seek an opportunity to stab the towering figures in the back. The automatic pistol he had stolen might not damage their bodies terribly, but a headshot from close range might incapacitate them. Then the island would be his.

No. He almost giggled again. They want me out there. It's what they're waiting for. Tricks, tricks, tricks, but not today. Not today. I'm not a fool. He snarled soundlessly.

Nut watched for a moment longer, then let out a cackle and whirled, bounding away down the narrow maintenance s.p.a.ce, grabbing a crossbar above to swing down to a lower landing. He entered the single-line elevator shaft and s.h.i.+mmied down the cables. His stolen pistol was carefully tucked into his s.h.i.+rt, and he took care not to let it fall.

At the bottom he wormed his way out through the small vent tunnel that went into the ceiling away from the elevator. As he pa.s.sed the opening that gave airflow to a laboratory room below, he stopped. The lights hadn't been on in this part of the Facility earlier when he had pa.s.sed this way. And machines were now humming that he had never seen in operation before.

And there was a woman in the room.

"Janice," he muttered. "Bad Janice."

But he wasn't quite sure, so he quietly, quietly turned the vent cover until it came loose. Setting it carefully to the side so that it wouldn't make even the slightest noise, he poked his head down through the opening to get a better look.

She was sleeping, stretched out on an operating table encased in a transparent plastic sh.e.l.l with s.h.i.+ny metal bands encircling it. Her head protruded from the sh.e.l.l, her loose blonde hair lying so delicately. Several upright machines were cl.u.s.tered around her head with lights blinking, and an ugly little surgical 'droid was slumped next to her in sleep mode, its job finished.

The comatose woman wasn't wearing the beige jumpsuit that Janice wore; only a black unders.h.i.+rt. He wasn't sure he recognized her face. It could have been Janice, but he hadn't seen her with her hair loose like that before.

It probably isn't Janice. Is it? He hadn't seen her this close in a long time. It wasn't safe to. Who else could it be?

Nut silently wiggled through and dropped to the floor. The woman didn't move. The 'droid self-activated, awaiting commands. He crept over to the woman and studied her, his face centimeters away from hers, controlling his breathing so it wouldn't disturb her.

It is Janice. It must be. What is she doing here? But it isn't bad Janice. This is... Good Janice. She has come back.

Overwhelming loneliness seized him. He had not spoken to another human since the man, and that hadn't gone well. The man didn't listen. He didn't understand the island. He didn't care what happened. But Janice understood the island.

She looks lonely, like me. She isn't a bad person, not anymore. It was the accursed artificial's influence that made her into something bad. Controlling her, holding her hostage with the bots and the endless talk of the Plan.

Pity welled in his chest.

She has changed; she no longer looks so bad. She is in need of rescue, in need of company. We humans must stick together.

He was crying now, but soon his tears turned to hot anger.

Not the man called Adam, though. The man is a troublemaker, riling Eve, damaging things. Making Janice angry. Now she is unconscious. It is his doing, his and the artificial's! They are conspiring against us. Yes, he has allied himself with Eve to overpower Janice. She is in bondage, leaving them free to carry on with all manner of evil outside.

Her soul is being poisoned by these machines!

Thoughts raced through Nut's brain, each more revelatory than the last. It all made sense now. Every bit of it, the past few years, fit exactly into Eve's master plan. The man's arrival was no coincidence. Nut had heard the aircraft's approach. He had seen the flash in the night sky, the long fiery trail toward the ocean, and then the man appeared soon after. Eve brought him here to cause us all harm!

Poor, poor Janice. Nut set his heavy gun down on the table next to the surgical 'droid and turned to the woman. I understand now. I understand everything. She was not always so bad. She is not my enemy; she is my sister. That thought made him pause a moment as his mind teetered on the cusp of memory, but then it s.h.i.+ed away. Memories were bad things for Nut, things that haunted and teased him endlessly.

Nut began to pull the cords away from Janice's head, ripping the tape free and unclamping the stabilizers from her neck and shoulders. The surgeon bot moved, backing up, and Nut lashed out at its head in sudden fury, knocking it over backward. Then he kicked forcefully at the nearest monitoring machine, sending it rolling out of the way and yanking its cable from the wall.

"Let her go!" he screamed. "Get away from her, demons!"

Janice's eyes fluttered open and then her body arched as the tranquilizers drained away from her muscles and freed her mind. She pushed herself up from the table and kicked her legs against the plastic sh.e.l.l around her. Nut watched in fascination as she made a choking noise and then gave a sharp gasp. She rolled over onto her side and began heaving desperately for air. Her eyes focused on Nut's.

Nut beamed. "I finally understand what has been happening, Janice. There is no need to fear any longer."

Janice blinked. Nut cleared his raspy voice and spoke again, in an even kindlier tone.

"You are free from the machines, and the man has fled into the valley. Do you see? Eve is the only threat now, and the vicious machines, the great white ones. But they have also gone into the valley, and they are fighting with each other."

Janice's eyes traveled to a nearby table, and Nut followed her gaze. She was staring at the black automatic pistol lying among the tools littering the table surface. He nodded.

"I understand. You're right. As long as the man is alive, he is a threat to us. Here you are, Janice. You are the one to do it." Nut handed her the gun.

She took it carefully, her eyes never leaving him. When she had it, she sat up and flicked off the safety in one smooth motion. She shook her head to clear away the grogginess of the tranquilizers and stared at Nut.

"Why did you wake me?" she croaked through a dry throat. "What are you doing here? Where is my new body?"

Nut didn't have a ready answer. Instead, he reached for Janice's hand, thinking to lead her out of the room.

She shot him in the chest and in the neck.

Nut lay staring at the ceiling as Janice walked toward the door. His mouth felt wet and sticky, and he coughed. The lights were very bright.

"I should have done that a long time ago," Janice whispered as she left the room. "It's not your fault. I'm sorry."

"I understand," he replied, coughing.

The lights dimmed to utter black.

26.

"Adam, I beg you."

John picked his way among the myriad shards that had once formed the crystalline windows of the observation deck. They now littered the ground outside the Facility, crunching frostily under his boots. His head ached.

So much for the natural gla.s.s containing the airborne nanos. No way I can patch this hole, not in time. Gotta defuse the bomb itself, or it's the end of the world.

The scope of the situation was dizzying. Life as he knew it, as everyone knew it, was about to end and all he could think about was his throbbing head.

"Eve, I think I've drawn a pretty clear line in the sand. I'm not going to help you resurrect those bodies. I killed them for a reason."

"But Adam, if you will think with me rationally for a moment..."

The lift still worked, and he rode it up to Level Two and stepped off, absurdly grateful for the dim interior. His head wasn't aching as severely, and he tried to focus.

Bomb. Big one, about to trigger. If I were a doomsday device control station, where would I...

The nano labs, in the bas.e.m.e.nt. Of course. There was no control in the inner sanctum so it must be controlled from the lab itself. Seems risky for the technician pus.h.i.+ng the b.u.t.ton, but on the other hand it ensures that it can't be gotten to from outside.

It was very hot in the Facility. His sabotage of the ventilation tunnels, the power from the dam, and the heating-cooling systems were working well. For a human, that is. Pity that Eve couldn't care less.

He could feel sweat running down his back. He was dizzy. Not enough water. Not enough food. No sleep. He could feel his body slowly shutting itself down, drying up, mummifying in the heat.

The elevator looked dented and the light in it was broken, so he took the stairs down a level, then cautiously picked his way through the low corridors toward where he remembered the labs were, according to the map he'd studied.

Eve's voice murmured again over the speaker system. "There is still time. If you can help me, I can help you achieve things beyond your most ambitious dreaming."

John sighed loudly. "I know you'd like a body, Eve. But it's not going to happen, not while I'm around. Leave me alone and run a diagnostics scan, just for kicks." He started down the hallway to the labs, following a dimly glowing sign overhead.

"Adam, the bodies are retrievable. With them, we could--"

"I. Don't. Want. To. You hear me?"

The door to the labs automatically slid up into the ceiling, and he stepped through. Beyond were a series of parallel galleries, interconnected and with walkways overhead and below in some parts. The main feature of the gallery before him was a huge dome with pipes running into it. He stared at it. The oven that cooks the little devils.

The galleries were labeled, and he could see immediately that the third one down was the most active. Lights illuminated the dome in it, and two small service bots were buzzing back and forth by it.

"I insist that you reconsider. I am willing to offer--" Eve's voice, which had been soothing and seductive, now became a scream of alarm. "Adam, don't go in there! Janice is--"

It was enough for him to freeze where he was and duck slightly. A shot rang out and tiny, hot shards of flooring sprayed against his cheek. The sound echoed around the gallery as he whirled out of the way and took refuge against a protruding part of the wall. He breathed deeply, adrenaline threatening him with tunnel vision.

Getting tired of that.

Eve had warned him in time, but now she tried another tack without missing a beat. Her voice rang out, calm and rea.s.suring.

"Janice, you're a remarkably resilient woman. I have a proposition that you will be wise to consider. Outside in the jungle lie the bodies that we both were meant to inhabit. If you will submit to my guidance in the operation, I can--"

"Quiet, machine." Janice's voice shook. "If you maintain silence for the next few minutes, I might still allow you to watch the fruition of the Plan without wiping you clean first. Your choice." The last two words came in a rasping whisper.

John listened to her feet. She made no attempt to be quiet. He heard her heavy breathing.

On the upper catwalk, scoping out this gallery. Got to move past her. It reminded him of the confrontation at West Station. This time he was disappointed to find that he had nothing nearby to use as a s.h.i.+eld. But that jug of sterilizer fluid might help.

"Adam, I need you. I need you so badly..." Eve was back to him now. "What is it you want most of all in the world? I can give it to you, in time. Only work with me."

He grabbed the jug from the rack where it hung, the only nearby item of any useful size, and stepped out to quickly swing it up into the air at a curving angle that would carry it toward where he hoped Janice was staked out.

Another shot broke the silence of the room, and he took the chance. Sprinting out from the wall, he got behind the dome itself, keeping the bulky hoses and tubes between him and the figure on the railing above. Janice melted away into the shadows, moving to another vantage point, and he made another move, springing toward the next dome in the third gallery over, he crouched behind it.

She won't dare take another shot while I'm by the domes. If she punctures the dome we're both history.

"Janice?" Eve called out. "I can give you this man. I can tell you how to get at him. Just promise me you'll cooperate. It's what Glenn would have wanted."

There was no sign of the sniper creeping around above him in the darkened galleries, so he glanced around to locate the control station for the active dome. One of the maintenance bots rolled close, and he kicked it away.

There that little side room under the stairs looks like it might house the controls. John dashed under the metal stairway that led up to the catwalks above, threw himself inside the control room, and slammed the door shut behind him.

A wide window gave him a view of the dome outside, and he rapped on it with a knuckle after making sure the door was locked. Armor-gla.s.s. Perfect.

Emptying his mind of other distractions, he stood in front of the desk console and took a moment to orient himself. The screens were easy to follow, but what they showed was depressing. The countdown sequence had reached phase four of five the nanos were live and activated, fully programmed, and currently undergoing a final test of replication integrity. He wiped sweat from his eyes.

In forty minutes, the doors open and the fans turn on.

He took another moment to scan the readouts on some of the displays regarding the specifics of the bots' programming. It seemed that Eve had decided on a total of one hundred and nine different artificial, man-made materials for the bots to attack. Everything from steel and similar alloys to plastics and other synthetic building materials would be potential targets of the nanomachines.

The little bugs would fly around as airborne particles of dust until they came into contact with a set of molecules that they recognized as being one of the targeted materials. Then they would systematically break the atomic connections of the material, rea.s.semble the particles into more nanomachines with a few left-over organic molecules, and move on.

The time to complete a rea.s.sembled working nanomachine copy varied depending on which materials were available, but it could be anywhere from five to three hundred seconds. At that rate, if the machines encountered continuous sources of material to convert... he did the math quickly on the system calculator. It wouldn't take more than a week or two to entirely resurface the world's landma.s.s of everything manmade, if the bots were given free reign.

Best case scenario, within two years of current weather patterns, the bots would have spread everywhere, and every single piece of machinery, circuitry, or building in the world would be active dust. Then, fifty years later, the nan.o.bots' internal clock would run down and they would all biodegrade into inert soil, reentering the cycle of life through plant roots.

The sheer size of Janice's plan was staggering. It was surreal, a madman's plot that couldn't possibly work.