Inquisitor (28 page)

They bumped and jolted forward, gaining speed. Then, they stopped accelerating when they hit fifty kph.

“Charlotte, we need more speed!”

“We can’t go faster. The weight of the constructs is slowing us down.”

And unless Angel missed her guess, the far greater mass of the Genevolve’s vehicle allowed it to move at a much faster rate.

Flashes zipped past them, some thudding into their armor. Blue light burst from the impacts. Hundreds more struck them, the collisions so numerous they sounded like hail.

We’re not going to make it.
The distance to the door on the other side was too great. The Genevolve’s gargantuan monstrosity rolled over the automatons like they were ants. It would intercept them soon. What surprises it had for them then, Angel was sure she didn’t want to find out.

“Closer,” she heard Charlotte whisper.

Angel turned her attention to the external sensors just as something sparked from the turret of their vehicle: a spray of silver-black liquid lit with an inner radiance. Oil? Angel laughed hysterically. Was Charlotte going to burn it or create a slick? It wouldn’t work. It
couldn’t
work.

The liquid arced over their constructs, splashing among the Genevolve’s. It oozed and moved over them, as if alive. Nanochines. But what could they—?

Angel’s thoughts broke off as a circle of Genevolve constructs twisted and began fighting their fellows. More of them spun around. Then others. Concentrated fire erupted around them. The air filled with metal, with white-hot fire.

The turret kept spraying, and soon the tide of constructs turned toward the juggernaut. The closer it came, the more machines railed against it. Incredibly, Summer’s machine began to slow. A number of constructs clung to it, attempting to claw their way inside. Metal limbs hammered and pried at armored plates and sensors. Then some reached the access hatch and began pounding on it.

Angel jolted again as they made a sharp turn. The turret swiveled to keep spraying, but they were heading away from the Genevolve. She watched as more and more automatons crawled over the giant vehicle. It slowed to a crawl under their weight.

They rumbled and bumped along, leaving Summer behind—plowing through machines like a boat through water, leaving a metal wake behind them. They skidded to a halt in front of the exit doors.

Angel detached herself from the netting and slipped through the door. Charlotte stood next to her, and together they watched as the Genevolve vehicle slowly disappeared under a wave of automatons.

Angel breathed a sigh of relief. “That wasn’t as bad as I—”

Plasma bolts slammed into the wall beside them. A wave of force punched Angel over, and she slid across the floor, shielding her head with her arms. More shots crashed around them, cascading fire. She lay there, gasping for breath. Forcing her eyes open, fighting the pain, she squinted against the glare and scrambled to where Charlotte lay.

The girl looked at her in fear. Angel scooped her up. She ducked and ran, swerving around their behemoth and through the open door. Intense blue light burst from behind her as their vehicle exploded. Angel flinched at the earsplitting roar.

She glanced behind her. Their vehicle was a smoking wreck. Far inside the warehouse, Summer’s juggernaut was glowing white. Constructs clinging to the hulk glowed red then burst like popcorn. All that remained were crisped and ruined husks. Some fell off, others remained fastened, as if the heat had welded them in place.

Angel hugged Charlotte close and ran as fast as she could.

Chapter 16

Angel stood on the bridge of the
Endurance,
head and stomach feeling like she’d just had an all-night bender. Her body was trembling, and she couldn’t control it. In the rear view, the Genevolve manufactory receded slowly into the distance. The
Endurance
’s sensors showed the immense machinery was giving off vast amounts of heat, for the first time in centuries. They’d left the constructs to their war, automatons clashing and destroying each other in an endless cycle, a kind of machine hell. She sighed and massaged her aching neck. Something akin to relief washed through her, but overlaying it was a sense of horror at what they’d done. Angel and Charlotte had abandoned thousands of highly intelligent AI programs locked in war. As if they themselves were malicious gods.

The thought more than troubled her.

And Summer’s ship was still intact—if she could manage to extricate herself from the eternal conflict they’d created. Angel shook her head at the thought. Summer was trapped; they’d never see her again. And good riddance.

Angel glanced at the screen. Two minutes to jump.

Charlotte entered the bridge and strapped herself in. “Are you ready?”

Angel hesitated. Charlotte’s face was pale and her expression grim. The nervous energy she usually exhibited was gone, and in its place was a steely determination. They were both tired, nearing the end of their strength.

She shook her head. “Not yet. You killed Harry Smith.”

There was a drawn-out pause. Angel let the pressure of the silence build.

Charlotte eventually shifted her weight in her seat. “Summer told you this? There’s no evidence that links me—”

“Don’t lie to me again, Charlotte.”

“I’m… yes. But I didn’t kill Jessica; that was Mercurial. They didn’t expect her to talk, and they rushed it. There were witnesses and evidence—”

“Back to Harry… Why? Because he was one of those who imprisoned you? No, that’s not it, is it? He was the first person you contacted to try and help you, wasn’t he?”

“Yes.” Charlotte’s voice barely carried to Angel. “In the end, he decided against it. He thought there was no hope for me, and argued I should be… killed. He thought I would become a monster.”

“And you’ve proven him wrong, have you? You slipped a program into his home and killed him while he was making dinner.”

Charlotte gave her an imploring look. Her bottom lip trembled, and her eyes were shiny with unspilled tears. “He was going to kill me and find a way to cut off my access to the outside. I honestly thought it was him or me. Angel… I’m sorry.”

Angel wondered what would have happened if she’d refused to help Charlotte. Would she have been next? She sighed. “You were backed into a corner. You were in a fight for your life. But it wasn’t self-defense.”

“In a way it was.”

Angel broke her gaze away from Charlotte as tears trailed down the girl’s cheeks. She was learning, changing. But it wouldn’t alter what she’d done.

“So,” Charlotte mumbled. “What now?’

“Back to Sercan. It’s the only way.”

A blip separated from the Genevolve facility. Sensors locked onto a ship as it emerged from the manufactory. Angel closed her eyes and leaned forward, placing her head in her hands. Summer had broken out… somehow. And she was still coming. It hadn’t taken her long to fight her way through the warring constructs and escape. Angel should have known it wasn’t over.

She checked the data coming in from Summer’s ship. A few dribs and drabs. It looked like Mikal’s programs had reached the limit of what they could do.

“We’re going to get the evidence to clear my name,” Angel said. “And then we’ll figure out what to do with you.”

Charlotte didn’t respond. She stared blankly at the screens in front of her.

The ship jumped.

•

They were a fifth of the way around the ring from Sercan. They no longer accelerated and had even dropped velocity. But they were moving far too fast for Angel’s liking. There was a reason you flew through asteroid fields slowly and carefully. If the ship couldn’t adjust quickly enough and change vectors, it could be disastrous. Many of the smaller asteroids couldn’t be picked up by the scanners. Charlotte might be extremely intelligent, but she was no pilot.

“Let me take over,” Angel said.

Charlotte gave her a calculating stare. Angel could almost see the permutations running behind her green eyes. Eventually, Charlotte nodded.

“All right. The ship is yours.”

“Thank you,” breathed Angel. She buckled herself back in and flirted with the ship’s systems. They responded. Almost immediately, their flight smoothed, and fewer rocks impacted their shields. She kept part of her awareness on the ship following, searching for signs it wasn’t alone. Surprisingly, it was.

“Summer hasn’t called for help,” Angel said. “She’s still on her own.”

“Hopefully she’ll stay that way. She wouldn’t want the Sercan Orbital Governance to get wind of what she’s after. To them, we’re probably thieves with stolen experimental technology.”

A largish asteroid was directly ahead. Angel nudged their vector slightly to avoid it.

“So… now we’ve lost the element of surprise, how are we going to board the Genevolve’s ship? We… I
need
that data.”

“We have to lure her close,” replied Charlotte.

“I suppose we could hide here somewhere. Power down. Or feign distress. A collision, perhaps?”

“She’s not stupid. She’ll know if we fake anything.”

Angel needed to get to the Genevolve ship. Luring Summer close was the only thing that would work.

She tilted the ship, and a giant hand slammed her against the harness. Angel’s head thudded into the padded headrest with enough force her vision went black for an instant. Edges of the fiber belts pressed against her, digging into her skin and cutting off her circulation.

She scrambled to gather her thoughts. They were spinning out of control. They’d hit the asteroid as she’d planned, but it was more than a glancing blow. Another asteroid smashed into the ship. Thankfully, a smaller one, but it still did damage. System warning lights flashed red, and fault alerts tumbled in front of her, too many to count. Behind them, metal hull plates scattered, torn from their housing, twisting and tumbling in the vacuum.

“Shit! I was sure I’d done enough to avoid that rock.” Angel frantically pulsed bursts from the thrusters in an effort to stabilize the ship. She probably had ten seconds before more impacts would almost certainly permanently disable the
Endurance
.

“Maybe you miscalculated,” said Charlotte. “The hull’s breached near the jump drives. I’ve sealed off the sections surrounding it, but it’s not good. I don’t think we’ll be able to jump without repairs.”

The warnings and faults scrolling down ended, to be replaced with a stream of minor malfunctions. Angel groaned as a jet from the thrusters jerked her sideways. But it did what it was supposed to. She’d managed to steady the ship, and they were no longer tumbling out of control.

“We can’t jump here, anyway. The closest locations are the Lagrange points around the nearest planet.”

And there was a fire near the ion maneuvering drives. Her control was down to ninety percent and falling, and she could only get sixty-seven percent power from them.

“Charlotte, get on that fire!”

“I’m already working on it. The repair automatons should have it under control soon.”

They couldn’t maneuver capably and certainly couldn’t outrun the Genevolve ship, even if they could make it to an L-point for a jump.

“Hide,” said Charlotte. “We have to hide. There are plenty of places.”

Angel hesitated. They’d have to power down, which meant they’d be an easy target if they were found. But they didn’t have much choice. “All right,” she said and began scanning nearby asteroids. A few hundred kilometers of rock would do nicely.
Ah, there’s one
. “I’ve found a rock. I’m taking us in for a closer look.”

Its surface was smoother than she’d like, but it wasn’t spinning as much as others around it. They’d be better off with some jagged edges to hide under but couldn’t afford the time to look for a better option. Already, the Genevolve ship was closing fast.

Angel matched the
Endurance
’s vector and spin to the asteroid’s with difficulty. It took her a few precious seconds longer than she thought. She fired top thrusters, and they descended to the asteroid’s surface. As they touched with a jolt, she shot stabilizer clamps out, and they burrowed into the rock.

“Powering down,” she said.

“The fire is out. Ion thruster efficiency—”

“Not good. I know.”

Lights winked out on the bridge, leaving only the glow from a few readouts and buttons.

“How bad is the damage to the Pinchier drives?”

Charlotte’s pause was all the confirmation she needed.

“Bad,” the girl said. “The containment-field generator is inoperable.”

Angel hammered the arms of her chair in frustration. “Arrrgghhh,” she growled. She released her harness and stood, massaging bruised and chafed skin. “Are you all right?”

Charlotte nodded. “Same as you, I think. If I wasn’t clipped in, I would have been seriously injured.”

“Yeah. We were lucky.”

The Genevolve would know they’d hit the asteroid, and see they’d just disappeared. Its sensors would hopefully pick up some of the debris they left behind, which was now scattering in all directions. But… once Summer found them, what was to stop her blowing them to subatomic particles? They needed a decoy. Worrying about what to do could come later. They couldn’t make it back to Sercan, but there were other ships out here, traders and artifact hunters. In exchange for enough credits, one of them would surely transport them out of the system.

“I’m going to the life-pods,” she said.

“I agree,” Charlotte replied. “There are three. Send two out in different directions. Leave one for yourself—just in case.”

Angel met her eyes. “What about you?”

Charlotte grimaced. She touched her face, then her hair. “This is… me… but it’s also an avatar. If I die, I don’t really die. My mind is housed in the cargo bay. And if it is destroyed, then I truly die. Flesh and blood doesn’t contain me. My real form doesn’t fit in one of the life-pods.”

“Then we’d best make sure we don’t need to use them.” If they needed to abandon the ship, then Charlotte would be left behind or destroyed. No, killed. She had to admit Charlotte was more than a machine: she was a sentient being. Despite all Charlotte had done so far, Angel couldn’t let the Genevolves have her.