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CHAPTER 7


“The vibrations are gone.” Sammer stood at attention, blank faced in the dim emergency lighting. “Defense arrays are on alert, but holding fire.”

Jeena crouched across the room, curled over a glowing display balanced on her leg, murmuring with Caytil. Was something wrong with Ziti’s code too? Was Jeena truly helping?

Talinn forced her gaze away from the tech and back to Sammer and the nameless soldier. The latter grunted and pulled his helmet off, and her nerves were too dulled to do much more than prickle at the facial confirmation that he was Base Two, the second-in-command she’d never once heard speak.

Until today.

“Boralid.” Base Two maintained eye contact with Sammer, but gestured to Jeena. The tech straightened but didn’t move closer. “Status?”

“No evidence of the irregularities flagged by Base Command.”

“Your opinion of the AIT program’s status?”

“Functional, Base Two.” Jeena didn’t waver, her hands clasped behind her back. Talinn had at least fourteen orienting questions for her, and could ask none of them. “Though that will erode the longer they’re out of service.”

“Understood.” He slapped his helmet against the side of his leg and studied Sammer for another set of seconds. “Ensure all equipment is load-in ready, and let’s get them back in the field.”

Her throat clogged, something sharp blocking anything she might have said, and then Base Two was out of the control room. “Bee?”

Not me. Her AI’s words skewed louder and softer between syllables, as though Bee were stretching against the cage. I wouldn’t stop you from yelling at Command after this mess.

“We need to talk to Jeena.”

I need to get back in a tank. Whatever she thinks she found, it’s not important enough that she’s stopping us from that.

“You don’t want to figure out what’s going on?”

I do, but I’ll feel a lot more able to do that from my tank, with access to all the channels that have information Jeebo may or may not be inclined to give us.

There was nothing to argue in that, so Talinn tried to meet first Caytil’s, then Jeena’s gaze. Both were preoccupied with the portable server between them, and Talinn waved to Sammer and Medith instead. With his Lei and her Cece back in their respective places, both were more free to move around than she was.

“What’s it look like out there?”

“A whole lot of new holes, and the entire truck pool is scraps. Landing pads are blown. There’s not a strip of easily navigable land between here and two quadrants out.” Medith frowned and shifted behind Talinn, expertly locating and rubbing an enormous knot underneath Talinn’s shoulder blades.

“So no jets or trucks,” Sammer said, his fingers brushing her elbow but his eyes on Jeena and Caytil.

“Base Command’s going to need tanks out there sooner than later, I’d bet.” Talinn leaned back into Medith’s ministrations—the pressure hurt, but some of the tension eased from across her back even as she maintained her awkward posture over Bee’s container. She sagged forward and Medith tapped her to straighten, which she did as she thought of her next question.

“Did you get eyes on the actual enemy?” Nothing about this felt right, but if the IDC’s troops had decided this base needed targeting, and they had some new weapon or method of attack, she agreed with Bee—better to face it from their tank, not from a gurney in a control room.

“No. Whatever they were using was all underground and didn’t register on any of the sensors.”

“Any ideas what could do that?”

“Our guess  . . .” Sammer lifted both the corner of his mouth and a shoulder, indicating how unverified the guess was. “Something’s in our system, Command knows it, and all of this boxing and separating is a whole lot of panic on the assumption it’s one of our AIs.”

“That one of our AIs was in the system?” Sigmun asked. Talinn should have known anyone not working with Jeena would be listening, but her senses were still catching up after all the abuse of the last hours.

“That one of our AIs is working on the IDC’s behalf.” Medith pushed hard against the twisted tendons and held, and finally pressure released from the knot under her shoulder.

“That would mean one of us working on IDC’s behalf, and how under all the colonial skies would—”

“—absolute stupidest—”

“How would we even—”

Sammer and Medith let everyone talk over each other, and Talinn held quiet as Bee turned the idea over.

“It would explain why our readings are all over the place,” Talinn said quietly, and Medith snorted, stepping around to lean on the gurney.

“Or nonexistent.” Medith frowned toward the array console and stretched out her fingers.

“But wouldn’t one of ours notice someone else in the system?” Sigmun asked, propping herself on the other side of the gurney.

No. Bee’s answer chorused with a handful of verbal ones. AIs, by design, were not meant to talk to each other. Even when they found workarounds, those usually required the processing assistance of their partners to punch through the safeties that kept them blind to each other.

It seemed likely a program weaponized against them would have similar safeguards or shielding to keep other AIs from noticing it without a targeted effort.

“Couldn’t one of ours find it, now that we think it might be there?”

“I’m sure Command is considering the most effective next steps.” Jeena stepped forward into the group gathered around the gurney. “Confirmed four tanks are still operational. Which of you—”

Unsurprisingly, they had to draw lots.

***

Talinn breathed away the aftereffects of load-in. Perhaps because it had come so close on the heels of that nightmarishly long one, and she and Bee had been somewhat apart in the meantime, it hadn’t been as disorienting.

It had also only lasted ten minutes, and they were back in a tank, so even if she had thrown up greenish liquid until all her soft tissues burned, she felt great now.

Totally worth it.

We have coordinates.

“Let the techs out first, Bee.” Talinn stood by the single chair until the two techs finished wrapping up their cords. Unlike Jeena, but exactly like every other tech she’d ever met, they didn’t quite look her in the eye.

Granted, she’d thrown up on one and accidentally elbowed the other in the cheekbone. Those occurrences were a large part of why she preferred not to know their names, truth be told.

We have coordinates, but no orders beyond “check it out.”

“Please tell me our orders specifically say ‘check it out.’”

I suppose we’ll find out when we officially get them.

“All that time poking into comms and we still have no idea what’s going on. It’s like you’re not even trying.” Though she subvocalized, Talinn kept her face pointed toward the wall of screens at the front of the tank, making it impossible for the techs to read much of anything from their position in the rear.

Hard for me to find out what’s going on when no one seems to know.

Bee’s voice pitched as light as Talinn had aimed for, but their humor was forced. Back in the tank: good. Getting out into the open lands with a resupplied artillery stock and a fully operational set of turrets: good.

Having absolutely no inkling at what was awaiting them or what Command was prepared to do to safeguard themselves: less than ideal.

“Fruitful hunting, AIT Breezy.”

Talinn swiveled in time to see one tech’s feet disappear out of the hatch, and the other—the one who had spoken, presumably—lifted a hand in a gesture between a wave and a salute before climbing the ladder.

“Thanks.” She meant to say something more meaningful, but impatience to have the tank to themselves triumphed. It was identical to the one they’d left behind in a field a million cycles ago, but it wasn’t theirs, not yet. It smelled too antiseptic, and there were no scuff marks around the comms.

Sigmun takes better care of her buttons than you do.

“Monk’s not thrilled to be stuck at the base, so we’ll be sure to take good care of their tank.” Talinn spread her fingers and shoved a squirm of guilt back. Sigmun and Kay had argued hard against the results of the lot drawing, which Talinn could hardly judge—she would have done the same if the results had been reversed.

“Unattended tanks are pretty big targets.” Talinn trailed her hand across the control panel in front of the swivel mounted chair and chewed on the inside of her cheek. “Why not knock them all out along with everything else?”

The jets are mostly fine too, it’s just there’s nowhere smooth enough, long enough for them to take off or land safely close to the base.

“That’s my point though—everything’s unusable but the tanks. Gotta be a reason for it.”

They were spread across the base. Whoever attacked us and Ziggy earlier had no problems damaging ours.

“Maybe that’s it . . . they hit their quota of tank destruction, and Belay got up and running before they could do real damage to any of the armor on the remaining ones.”

So they took out the trucks. Tanks are far better armored. Bee delivered the understatement in the tone of one of their earliest teachers, who’d had an unerring ability to overpraise the smallest things with so much enthusiasm they’d all doubted they’d actually grasped anything.

“Yeah, yeah. Where are those orders, huh?”

Waiting on last two load-ins, far as I can tell. Jeena’s still in Ziggy’s.

“You’re keeping tabs on a tech?”

I don’t care what she thinks is wrong with me, but I do want to make sure she’s not out there causing any trouble.

“She hasn’t knocked us over to Command.”

Yet.

“So noted.” Talinn slid into her seat and left the cross belt unhooked. She kicked a leg idly, did a fast review to ensure all the buttons were, in fact, identically placed to her last tank, and considered running an extra diagnostic to kill time before the comms crackled.

“Breezy, order are as follows: Patrol following coordinates, engage enemy as provoked. Do not leave assigned square. Additional contingencies will be in place. Confirm.”

Talinn confirmed, rattling off the coordinates, but her thoughts snagged on the additional contingencies. Without the jets, what could they—

“The big bomber drones?” she asked Bee as engines thrummed on around them.

Or seeding mines? Seems like whatever’s after us has been coming in from beneath, and if our fire couldn’t penetrate, drones aren’t going to do much better.

“Some of those drones are carrying Interceptor level payloads.”

Still have to hit a target to make that worth anything.

“Gives them a bigger margin of error than even our big turret.”

Bee didn’t answer that, and the tank rolled harder over a gaping hole in the ground than it strictly had to. Talinn smiled, though the effort of it ached along the sides of her jaw, and turned her gimbaled chair in a slow circle, studying their new—potentially temporary—tank more carefully.

“I didn’t even check the bunk.”

We might not be in here long enough for you to need it.

“You are full of optimism today.”

You try being locked into a connection-free box for an endless stretch of time, see how that helps your mood.

“To be fair, I was, given I was stuck to yours and kept in only a slightly larger room.”

Fair enough. Bee flickered the screens, and Talinn didn’t note any lags. And I didn’t mean we’d be dead or blown up by the end of the day—though that’s certainly possible. I meant I don’t think Base Command’s going to leave us out for any long patrols. I think they’re going to want us under sight as much as possible.

“You’re probably right.” Talinn cracked her knuckles and continued to spin. “Plus Monk’s going to want their tank back.”

Loaders’ rights. It’s ours now.

“If someone said that about ours, you’d be working out ways to gum up the treads before they were out of the gates.”

We’re already out of the gates. Bee coated the words smugly, but it landed as forced as Talinn’s attempt at a smile.

“Onward to glory, then.” She kicked out of the chair, which stilled immediately, and hopped to the bunk in two long strides. Medical kit, provisions, a clean coverall, a blanket, and two pillows. The medkit was set up exactly to standard, so Talinn grabbed two pain blockers and swallowed. Bee was rerouting a killer headache, but enough of the dulled pain leaked through to make a couple of pills a smart investment.

“Sigmun’s living fancy out here. Extra pillow, blanket’s got stitches on it—does Monk do the sewing thing?”

Embroidery? No. She took a med class though. Maybe it’s practice.

“Who’s she going to close up?”

Herself? Remember the time you kept bleeding through bandages because you didn’t have the gel? Stitches would have helped.

“That was over a decade ago. I haven’t bled like that in—”

Aren’t you always going on about jinxes?

Talinn groaned and closed the storage bunk, flopping down on top of it instead. “There has to be a limit to the jinxing you can do in one day, don’t you think?”

I think you’re just digging deeper.

“You’re probably right. Well . . . let’s not die.” Talinn stared up at the smooth ceiling—exactly the same as the one in her broken tank—and considered if she had time for a small span of more voluntary unconsciousness.

Deal. So about that . . . 

“No.” Talinn bolted upright again, ignoring the immediate thudding of the lingering headache against her temples.

Nothing’s out there. It’s just . . . what if the attack isn’t about killing us?

“Say more.”

I had a lot of time to think about the explosions today, and there wasn’t really a pattern, but . . . 

Talinn chewed the edge of her thumb and strode back to the center chair, belting in more from habit than need. She didn’t prompt Bee again, and after a moment the screens in front of her changed to an aerial view of pockmarked ground.

“This was where we got attacked?”

What if they were trying to herd us somewhere? Based on our usual patterns, if I hadn’t committed to a random turn retreat to match Ziggy, I probably would have turned like this.

A dark green line appeared on the map—the path they’d taken—and then a dark blue one sketched over it. That’s how we’ve historically reacted to ground attacks. We turn into them, fire back.

“But I didn’t give any input into our turns.”

And I was matching Ziggy. I think if we’d performed to previous expectations—so far as that goes . . . I think we would have gone in this direction. And . . . you know what’s in that direction?

“IDC forces?”

Absolutely nothing. But also . . . an area no one has patrolled, not as long as we’ve been here.

“And we’re not supposed to go there now.”

No.

“But you’re thinking we should?”

Yes.

“And you have an idea how to make that happen.”

Sure do.

“We’re already on the way there now, aren’t we?”

Well . . . now we are.

“Promise me we won’t die?”

I mean, we made a deal . . . 

“That’s not a promise.”

Nope!


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