Viktor Koman - The Microbotic Menace

This island is a gigantic quasi-crystal.” He slipped a headset on and handed the others to his crew. “Flash will be fascinated to see this—he’s always wanted the lab floor to have Penrose tiles.”

Cap switched on the headset and slipped in his earcomm. “Flash?”

The headset broadcast a signal to the nearest communication satellite

overhead, downlinking hundreds of miles away to the Anger Institute.

“Here, Cap, ” the voice in his ear replied.

“We’re on the island. Start recording.”

“Roger. Say—is that a Penrose tile pattern on the ground?”

Cap headed toward the cavern, the others walking alongside him. Outwardly, they acted like boaters picnicking on a vacation island. Tex and Sun Ra joked about the heat of the sunlight that reflected dazzlingly from every square inch of their surroundings. Rock whistled a merry Slavic folk song. Only Cap walked quietly, listening to the sounds carried by the warm ocean breeze. He to scan the upper reaches of the island with digital binoculars that sent stereoscopic images back to AI.

“He obviously set this place up for privacy,” Cap subvocalized to Flash, though The others also heard him over their earcomms. “No need for guards. Or maybe—”

He stopped in his tracks to stare at the entrance to the cave.

“Bozhe moi!” Rock cried out.

All along the entrance to the cavern stood an eerie phalanx of silver statues. Most of them looked like Mexican peasant men and women, though a pair of them wore the uniforms of Mexican federales. Nearby stood two men and a woman in lab coats. Several of the nearly lifelike statues appeared to be sneaking toward the cavern, though some faced in the opposite direction as if running away, their faces contorted with terror. The sculptures possessed incredibly fine detail, down to the weave of the fabric and pore patterns on the skin. Cap did not allow anyone to get close enough to see such detail, though.

“Dandridge has his own brand of security system,” Cap said.

“Microbots that can metal-plate a running man in mid-stride?” Sun Ra asked incredulously.

Cap shook his head. “More likely that Dandridge programmed these particular microbots to swarm over intruders and lock together into a sort of exoskeleton. They’re held in place to suffocate and left as decoration.

“Then how do the zombies get in and out?” Sun Ra asked.

“Probably have transmitters in their implants,” Flash said in their ears. “Broadcasts a signal telling the machines not to attack.”

Cap pointed to the first line of statues. “See that? That must be the outer perimeter. If we get any closer, the robots attack.”

“Why didn’t they just melt them?” Tex asked.

“A warning to others, perhaps. Something to scare away the curious.” Cap stepped perilously close to the first rank of statues.

“But there are so many,” Rock said.

“There’s always a few willing to test the odds,” Cap muttered.

“Someone’s coming,” Tex said.

From inside the dark cavern reverberated the sound of slow, methodical footfalls.

“Zombies,” Cap whispered. “Let’s watch.”

Ducking behind a ridge of fractal metal, the four peered out at the half-dozen men who shuffled slowly out of the cave. Wending their way through the forest of motionless victims, the six ragged workers trudged toward the airstrip with a listless yet mechanical determination.

“Look around their feet,” Cap whispered.

Where they walked, the metallic sheen grew dull and unreflective for several feet in all directions.

“The microbots withdraw when they come by. And far enough to prevent them from attacking any cargo the zombies carry.” Cap’s voice held a note of grim respect for Dandridge’s attention to detail. Then he smiled, the green in his eyes catching the sunlight in such a way that they glowed like a matched pair of emeralds in firelight. “There’s the weakness in the system. We’ll act like cargo!”

The four waited for the zombies to return, which they did in half an hour. Each carried a huge, burlap-wrapped bundle on either shoulder that would have tested the strength of most men. Their electronic masters, though, cared not an iota for such concerns as muscle pain or fatigue. Under their programmed commands, the men ignored any warnings their bodies might be giving them and hefted their burdens wordlessly.

As they trooped past the hidden observers, though, Cap saw that the hideous control devices only suppressed the victim’s pain, but could not erase it. Each man’s face revealed a contorted mask of agony, their mouths twisted in torment, their eyebrows knotted in unbearable anguish. Their glazed eyes stared with a vacuous mockery of awareness, as if the computerized masters buried in their brains knew every step of their path and needed no visual input to guide them.

Sweat poured off their brows and trickled into those eyes. The sting

would have driven other men mad. These damned souls trudged forward unflinchingly with their loads, unbidden tears running from their lifeless eyes to trickle down cheeks, lips, and chins.

Cap glanced at Tex. The doctor shook his head with a grim sadness. “High-tech slaves,” was all he said.

“Walk close to them,” Cap said. “We’ll stay in their protective zone to get in, then drop away from them when we’re within the perimeter.”

“What if the sentries are crawling all over the complex?” Sun Ra asked.

Cap shook his head. “Too dangerous even for Dandridge, I suspect.

What if they put a piece of equipment down and walked away from it? Look at the statues—there seems to be a distinct starting line twenty yards from the mouth of the cave and an end zone about twenty yards inside.”

“Let’s go,” Rock said, “before they get inside!”

Cap stepped out first, boldly walking over to the line of men and insinuating himself between the first and the second. They tramped far enough apart that this was possible without tripping them up. If any of the zombies noticed him, they gave no reaction. He matched his stride to theirs and signaled the others to join him. First Tex, then Sun Ra, and finally Rock stepped into the gaps between the slaves. Rock positioned his massive body behind the last slave, the only place he fit safely.

They watched with interest as they crossed the invisible perimeter. The silver floor of the cavern turned whitish and unreflective at the entrance of the first worker. Cap’s advance caused no alarm or sudden attack.

They shuffled in at the slow, unchanging pace of the zombies and made their way past the horrifying garden of the dead. Every one of the metalized corpses bore a visage of dread and stark terror. Their deaths came slowly enough—they saw their end coming and it showed in their death masks.

The statues marked a very definite end to the defense zone. Beyond the last preserved body, the cavern floor possessed a semi-glossy look. The passage of the zombie crew caused no reaction. Tex breathed an audible sigh of relief when his feet touched the white flooring.

A few yards beyond that, Cap and the others broke away from the line of cargo handlers and stopped to survey their surroundings.

The interior of the cave formed a gigantic silver dome, braced along the interior in the manner of a geodesic dome, but with the same sort of fractal isogrid construction in which the pentagons and hexagons composing the structure each comprised smaller five- and six-sided polygons. Those polygons surrounded even smaller polygons and so on, presumably down to the molecular level. It gave the dome a look of almost spherical smoothness.

Tunnels radiated out from the dome at regular intervals around its circumference. Odd, crystalline overhead lights illuminated some while others extended into darkness. Iris-like doorways sealed some corridors shut while others lay wide open, and formidable hatched closed off three on the far side.