Kevin Anderson - The Ashes of Worlds

“No, it is not.” He was very disappointed. His crimson optical sensors glowed a deep ruby shade in contrast to the still-flashing scarlet emergency lights. “This is a bulk-processing plant designed to produce large sheets of alloys, heavy girders, construction ingots. This facility does not have the technological sophistication we require.”

With each disappointing result, he grew more desperate. Circumstances beyond Sirix’s control had led to defeat after defeat, and most of the original black robots had been annihilated in recent battles. Very little of his massive army and only a few dozen of the stolen EDF battleships remained intact. His options had seemed quite limited until the two naive compies had suggested their bold and previously unthinkable scheme.

Given facilities with proper technical sophistication, they could build more black robots,new ones, to replace the ranks of those that had fallen. Even though the new-generation robots would not have the vital memories and experiences of the lost originals, they would still replenish his army. Sirix could use them to complete his plans.

However, manufacturing new Klikiss robots was not as simple as constructing a spacecraft or a clumsy habitation dome. The fabrication process required extreme sophistication. Forrey’s Folly was inadequate. This entire operation had been a waste of Sirix’s time.

Flexing his fingerlike leg clusters, Sirix stepped over two human bodies that blocked the rough floor of the deep tunnel. He turned back to the two compies. “Search all the information in their databases for any other outposts and assess their capabilities in advance. Find me a place to manufacture my robots.”

“Yes, Sirix,” PD and QT said in unison.

“The Roamers themselves will point us to our next target.”

When the two compies came to report to him on the bridge of his ship, Sirix could tell they were pleased. “Have you found an acceptable alternative?”

PD presented a datapad, and QT spoke up. “We suggest Relleker. It is a former Hansa world with a very desirable climate. Hydrogues destroyed the settlement and killed every colonist. Roamers recently returned there to establish an extensive base, now that they are safe from the hydrogues.”

“They are not safe from my robots,” Sirix said. “Why do you believe this place will be satisfactory?”

“The Roamers have installed a new industrial grid with many capable workers and cutting-edge technology,” PD said. “The data indicates that their fabrication plants are excellent.”

“So they believe,” Sirix said. “Let us see Relleker for ourselves. If it proves adequate, we will seize it and begin our work.” He studied the report. According to the records the compies had downloaded, the planet did have everything necessary for the construction of new robots. The existing facilities could be converted into a proper assembly plant without difficulty. And with no significant defenses, Relleker would easily be subsumed.

“If the human colonists are technologically proficient, perhaps they will assist us in creating more robots,” QT suggested. “After all, the current fabrication lines are designed for human hands.”

“And we could use the help,” PD said. “We should keep them alive.”

Sirix grudgingly agreed. “Some of them, perhaps —if it serves our purposes.” He contacted his ships to inform them of the mission priorities. The robot fleet altered course and flew off toward their new destination.

23

General Kurt Lanyan

As his battle group followed the pinger signal on the runaway Roamer cargo escort, Lanyan felt genuine satisfaction. At Golgen, he had put all the skymines in their places and showed the clans that they had to line up in support of the Hansa for the good of the human race. His troops had also captured enough stardrive fuel to run the whole fleet for six months or more. Definitely a good day’s work. As he sipped a cup of black coffee on theGoliath ’s bridge, Lanyan mulled over how much the Chairman would appreciate what he’d done. For once.

Tight supplies of ekti had hampered the EDF for years. How could a space fleet perform its work properly if they had to account for every fume, every discretionary patrol run? Now that his ships were pursuing one of the “escaped” cargo escorts, Lanyan was sure he’d soon have even more to show for his efforts. Yes, he felt very good about himself and his crew.

“That was a bad business back at Golgen, General.” Conrad Brindle had come aboard the flagship from his Manta for consultation and debriefing. He didn’t sound enthusiastic at all.

“Bad business? It was a complete success.”

“It was a civilian target, sir. We had no legal justification for seizing their assets without due process — ”

“They were enemy sympathizers at the very least, if not actual combatants.” Lanyan wished the other man had the decency to voice his objections in the privacy of the ready room, rather than on the bridge where the rest of the crew could overhear.

Brindle stood his ground. “At the Academy I taught students in ethics, the Hansa Charter, and the fine points of EDF regulations. During our Golgen mission, the proper procedures were not followed. What we did was tantamount to piracy.”

Lanyan cut him off, annoyed that this man would rain on his parade. Years earlier, Lanyan himself had hunted down and executed the Roamer pirate Rand Sorengaard; this was completely different. “Mr. Brindle, you made the right decision when you chose not to join Willis’s mutiny at Rhejak. You showed an admirable strength of character when you left your own son and his Roamer ‘friend’ on Theroc and remained loyal to the Earth Defense Forces. Don’t fail me now when things are going so well.”

His tactical officer interrupted them. “General, the pinger signal has stopped! The cargo escort’s gone to ground in the system ahead.”

Lanyan set his coffee aside, hoping Brindle wouldn’t press the matter further. “Tell me about the system. What’s there?”

“Nothing that I can see, sir. Metal-rich rocks in erratic orbits — barely worth noting on a starmap. The only name I could find in the records is Forrey’s Folly. I can’t tell if it refers to any particular asteroid.”

Lanyan nodded slowly, smiling. “Ugly, useless, and out of the way — exactly the sort of place Roamers like.” He scanned starmap archives where a tangle of ellipses showed the orbital paths of the many out-of-ecliptic planetoids around a small dim sun. The cargo escort had gone directly to one of the asteroids. “Proceed with caution. We’ll probably find another clan hideout.”

The sensor operator scanned the rock. “The presence of processed metals and geometrical shapes clearly indicates artificial constructions.”

“Charge in with our weapons ready, but don’t open fire unless I say so. We don’t want to lose any ekti stockpiles they might have — or damage facilities that may continue to be productive.”

“We should also avoid unnecessary casualties,” Brindle added, making sure everyone on the bridge could hear him.

The sensor operator brought up a report from the long-range scans. “Detecting no energy signatures, comm traffic, or heat sources. Just the cargo escort. He’s transmitting, but getting no answer.”

Lanyan leaned forward, elbows on his knees. At the speed the EDF ships were moving, the outpost approached in a flash. The asteroid had once been covered with domes, tank farms, docking frameworks, and habitation tunnels, but the place was entirely destroyed. Explosions had riddled the already cratered rock of the asteroid. Blackened holes and melted cuts showed where the facility had been torn apart.

“That was done by EDF jazer blasts, sir,” said the sensor operator.

“Jazers? I gave no order to attack this place. Hell, I didn’t even know it was here.”