Titan Base (6 page)

ETHAN SKIDDED TO A HALT AND HIS EYES ADJUSTED
to the darkness.

A dim light came from ahead.

He eased forward and peered down a huge spiral in the floor, at least a full soccer field across, that wormed into the earth as far as he could see.

The light came from the curved walls of this gigantic spiral. Along them, segmented panels of illumination softly flickered.

He turned, and as his eyes continued to adjust, he saw the same walls on this ground level. Each wall had shelves filled with blocks of crystal. Some of the
crystals were amethyst purple, others a golden topaz, still others ruby red, but most were clear and glimmered like diamonds. He squinted and saw that inside each block was the twinkle of diodes and other delicate circuitry.

It had to be a computer. Or since this was a library … electronic books? But not any type of book he’d ever seen before.

“This place is too weird,” Emma whispered, and rubbed her temples. “It feels … hollow.”

Hollow
was right. Ethan felt as if his head were hollow, made of metal and buzzing even louder now than it had been before with a strange, almost musical rhythm.

That had to be his imagination.

“I don’t like it either,” Felix murmured. “Too quiet.”

Felix stepped closer to Emma, and Ethan wasn’t sure because of the murky light, but he could’ve sworn he grabbed her hand.

The lights flickered on—coming from the walls, the ceiling, and even the floor.

Ethan blinked in the sudden brightness.

“Is there anything I can help you with?” a mechanized voice asked.

Ethan yelped and spun around. He faced one of the city’s robots.

It was close enough to touch—and close enough to clobber him flat.

It’d been hard to judge the size of these things up on the wall, but this near, it towered ten feet over him and must’ve weighed twice as much as a normal athletic suit since there was a giant nuclear reactor where the cockpit should’ve been.

The robot balanced on one wheel, swaying back and forth. It looked down on him and the others, but not with the same slitted helmet as the guard robots. This robot had a blank face that glowed with a soft white spot. Instead of ultrasensitive antennae in its hands, this one’s hands were normal (if “normal” was six fingers on a white-gloved hand big enough to hold three basketballs at once).

“Wh-what did you say?” Ethan sputtered. He was terrified. It was the best he could do.

“I am the librarian,” it told them. “I asked, young citizen, if there is anything I can help you with.”

Ethan almost fell over backward.

A lucky break. Finally.

“We’re looking for answers,” Ethan said.

The robot librarian spread its arms wide in a friendly gesture. “I am here to serve.”

“Perfect,” Emma whispered to Ethan. She gave him a rare nod of approval.

Ethan noted that she and Felix no longer held hands. They weren’t even standing next to each other … pretending that never happened.

He was about to tell them that everything was going to be okay now—that they’d figure out how to turn off those guardian robots, that they’d be the heroes of the Resistance—when he heard clicking from his wrist.

Ethan’s radiation counter ticked up as he watched.

He instinctively took two steps back from the librarian.

Emma’s counter clicked away, too. Her eyes locked onto the nuclear reactor glowing ghostly blue in the robot’s chest.

“What questions do you have?” the librarian asked, wheeling closer.

Felix stepped between them to stop it from getting nearer to Emma. His counter clicked away even faster.

“Where is everyone?” Felix demanded. “I mean, the people of New Taos?”

Emma pulled Felix back—and this time held on to the big guy’s hand.

“Ah …” The librarian paused. One hand contemplatively tapped its featureless face. “File synopsis retrieved. New Taos is currently experiencing a stage IV evacuation due to elevated radiation levels. All citizens must report to
a transportation station after their duty shift. This situation will be momentarily corrected.”

“Just how long is ‘momentarily’?” Ethan asked.

The librarian hesitated even longer before answering. “Restoration efforts are delayed by mandatory system repairs due to elevated radiation levels,” it told Ethan. “Current project estimate is … one hundred thirty-eight years.”

Ethan’s hopes of using this place for a Resistance base evaporated. One hundred thirty-eight years? That might as well be forever.

“That’s why there’s a junkyard out there,” Felix whispered. “Even mechanical men can’t last long here.”

“There’s
no way
we can use anything here,” Emma whispered back, and her forehead crinkled with frustration. “Ethan, let’s get the heck out of here!”

Ethan held up his hands to calm his sister. “Just a few more questions.”

They’d come this far. They were still within safe radiation exposure levels (although that could change
fast
if he wasn’t careful). And this librarian had so much information that could prove useful to the Resistance … and to Ethan.

Emma released Felix’s hand and crossed her arms over her chest. “It doesn’t matter what I say, does it? You’re going to stay anyway.”

Ethan pursed his lips and said nothing.

She sighed and glared at her radiation counter. “When this gets to thirty percent, I’m going to mutiny, Lieutenant, knock you over the head, and drag you out of here!”

Felix gave Ethan a little nod.

Ethan wasn’t sure if that meant he agreed with him that they should get more data or he agreed with Emma about carrying him out of here against his will.

Ethan turned back to the librarian.

The nuclear reactor in the robot’s chest seemed to glow even brighter.

Ethan had to be crazy for staying here. He didn’t care, though. He
needed
answers. He wasn’t sure
why
he needed them so badly … it was like that hollow metal sensation in his head was something in his brain waiting to be filled.

He’d start with the most practical questions.

“Can the guardian robots be ordered to stand down? Or the city’s missile-defense system turned off?”

“Yes, young citizen. However, level III authorization codes are required.”

Ethan didn’t have a clue what those were, but he
was
sure he didn’t have them. That eliminated the possibility of getting their I.C.E.s for a quick evacuation.

“So the Ch’zar were never in this city?”

“I have no record of the word
Ch’zar
in my database,” the librarian replied.

Ethan finally gave in to his feelings and asked what he
really
wanted to know instead of skirting the issue.

“So no records of mind control either?”

The librarian froze for a few seconds. Its reactor pulsed. “Mind control?” it replied. “No. But there are records on mind
expansion
—extrasensory perception—group-thought protocols, and, of course, Project Prometheus.”

Prometheus
.

The word filled the void in Ethan’s mind like a perfect jigsaw-puzzle piece.

He remembered it from history class—mentioned by his teacher in passing during the mythology unit. When Ethan’s parents saw the name on his homework, though, they made a
huge
deal about it. They checked out books from the Santa Blanca library and made Ethan read everything there was about Prometheus.

According to legend, Prometheus stole fire from the gods and gave it to humankind. The ancient Greeks believed people would still be cavemen without Prometheus.

Ethan’s parents had often said he was like Prometheus—clever, doing whatever it took to win—and when he got in trouble (like after he shot his model rockets
into the neighbor’s garage), they had reminded him that Prometheus had also been
punished
by the gods, chained to a rock while his liver was torn out by a giant eagle.

Supergross.

His skin pebbled with chill bumps.

“Tell me everything about Prometheus,” Ethan demanded. “No, wait—can I check out a book on that subject?”

He was an idiot. This was, after all, a library. He should check out the data he wanted instead of talking with a machine while he was not so slowly fried by radioactivity.

The librarian snapped its fingers.

A smaller version of the librarian appeared from the shadows. It raced to a nearby shelf, ratcheted up, and pulled out a crystalline block. It then raced back to Ethan and handed it to him.

The block was the size of a sugar cube. It was ruby red and pulsed like a heart.

“This volume summarizes all recent articles on glorious Project Prometheus, citizen,” the librarian told him. “You will find crystal readers in the back room. Authorize data retrieval by entering your global identification number and—”

Angel stumbled into the library. She lurched and fell to one knee. She panted and clutched her side. Blood oozed between her fingers and stained her flight suit.

“I told you,” Angel said, “I’d be back in a minute or two.”

Ethan, Felix, and Emma ran to her.

Emma circled an arm around Angel to help steady her.

She looked so fragile to Ethan.

“Just one thing went wrong …,” Angel said, her other knee giving out.

Felix grabbed her, too, and her eyes fluttered as she struggled to stay awake.

“That double-back trick … it didn’t quite work out the way I wanted. They’re right behind me.”

“How many?” Ethan asked.

Angel whispered, “All of them.”

   
6
   
RED FLARE

ETHAN RAN OUT OF THE LIBRARY
. T
HE WALKWAYS
and bridges of the city were deserted.

Angel had been mistaken—or maybe she’d hit her head while being chased and had hallucinated the whole thing.

But then the city shook.

Ethan’s heart practically stopped as he watched a hundred robots roll at top speed through the gate in the outer wall. They fanned out in a half circle, casting their supersensitive antennae back and forth. Still more robots appeared along the top of the wall, so even if he could make it through the city, there’d be no escaping
that
way.

He would’ve given his left arm for his wasp I.C.E. right now. His insect would tear those things to pieces.

Ethan reached out with his mind, trying to connect to the insect’s brain like he had before—wake it and call it to him.

It was a long shot because of the distance.

He tried anyway.

That hollow, metallic feeling still filled his brain, though. Only now, the metal seemed to buzz with urgency. It drowned out whatever telepathic link he might have made to his wasp.

Ethan looked for any other way out of this jam.

Behind him, the city spiraled up—ramps and bridges and platforms—to crystalline skyscrapers in the center of the metropolis. He couldn’t see any robots up there. Apparently they were all down here hunting for them.

Felix and Emma emerged from the library.

Felix carried Angel. She looked pale and could barely keep her head up.

They took in the tactical situation but said nothing.

Ethan motioned at them and pointed back into the city.

Emma and Felix, wide-eyed and probably scared out of their minds, nodded, getting that they had to leave fast … and in complete silence.

Felix moved out.

His sister hesitated and locked eyes with Ethan. He knew that she knew what he had to do. She could always tell when he was going to do something reckless.

“I’ll be right behind you,” he mouthed.

She fumed and gave him that
why is my brother crazy?
shake of her head but nonetheless ran after Felix.

Ethan dug into his pack for a signal flare.

He had to let Madison and Paul know there was trouble. Madison had to get a message back to the Seed Bank no matter what.

There were two types of flares in his pack: red and blue. Blue meant “Help needed!” Red meant “Danger!”

He pulled out a red tube with warnings printed on its side explaining which end to point where. He paused, finger wrapped around the pull cord.