“Can you outmaneuver that?” I ask Nikki. “If we could divert it from going for any of the other vehicles—they won’t know how to avoid it.”
My head suddenly was flung back into the seat as our van leaped into the path of the missile which Nikki was trying to get it locked onto us rather than another of our group. Once it was on our tail, she executed a series of heart-stopping turns that took us up and finally over the missile so that it was repelled downward to expend its energy and explode harmlessly in the earth below.
“I’m tired of being the victim,” I said as we hovered in place, waiting for the plane to turn and head for us again. “Nikki, Take us down a bit—keep enough altitude so you can maneuver if you have to—then hold us real still. I need a shooting platform.” I’d half been expecting trouble and had made it a point to learn how to use a rail gun. Now I was getting real sick of seeing lousy fighter planes in action. I pulled the rifle from its straps next to me, and opened the side door of the van. “Turn the van so my side’s toward the plane.”
I kicked the van door fully open, loosened my seat belt, and slid around in the seat so my feet dangled out the side as Nikki brought the van around. I pointed the gun out the open door and focused the scope on the oncoming plane.
The fighter was gaining altitude in the distance, preparing to send a missile over us so we couldn’t deflect it downward. Below us, the crowd of reporters scattered all directions while a few brave souls stood their ground and took pictures of the battle unfolding above them.
A rail gun sends out a small projectile of depleted uranium wrapped in a steel shell. It travels so fast that even a plane is standing still for all practical purposes; in theory the fighter was a relatively easy target. All I needed to do was center the plane in the cross hairs of the scope and fire. The speed of the shell gave it the kinetic energy of a much larger projectile. Provided the plane and shell connected, the fighter wouldn’t bother us again.
In theory. The problem was that rail guns were notoriously inaccurate, which is why the plane wasn’t armed with them. If its inaccuracy weren’t bad enough, the wind was causing the van to sway ever so slightly. And my hands were shaking as well.
Like all hand-held rail guns, it had only three barrels. I had to strike the plane with one of three tries or we were out of luck. So I lined the fighter up in the cross hairs the best I could and fired. The rail gun recoiled as the shell accelerated down its magnetic track.
One miss.
I aimed and fired again. Another miss.
One shot left.
As I watched, a small missile dropped from the plane and started toward us. Now or never because Nikki would have to maneuver to get out of the way. I aimed and fired.
And missed.
I hit the missile that was still close to the plane. The rocket exploded below the jet, shrapnel from its premature explosion riddled the fast-approaching plane. Apparently the fighter’s on-board computer was damaged; the plane suddenly tumbled end over end out of control without the micro-second adjustments needed to keep it stable.
Nikki forced the van into a short dive and we flew under the tumbling inferno as it was carried through the air by the momentum of its flight. The fiery wreckage arched overhead and smashed into the dry earth with bits of molten plastic and burning fuel spewing across the ground.
“The news people got a nice show,” I said as we stopped and hovered about ten meters off the ground. “OK. Let’s catch up with our group before we have another showdown.”
I tossed the now useless rail gun out of the door and closed it. A small boy below ran over and picked it up as we pulled away; a souvenir he’d probably hang on his bedroom wall, I thought as he waved at us.
Chapter 27
When we reached the moon, we discovered that the bots had made a pile of anti-grav rods like I couldn’t believe. Part of it was because of a little trick Nikki had pulled.
“I made a little change,” she explained as I tried not to roll my eyes. She’d been messing with the computers and a small experimental manufacturing assembly she’d brought back from the Erathosthenes base when we’d gone parts raiding. Basically, it was a meter-sized automated factory which had been part of an experiment to see if producing computer memory modules using the near vacuum the Moon offers was practical. “Coupled with the power the rod generators we’d set up to produce almost limitless electricity,” she continued, “I figured the little factory might just as well be producing memory chips while we were at it.”
“So it’s been up here chugging out computer memories on the side like there was no tomorrow,” I said.
“Looks like it. I programmed the bot overseeing the factory to plug them into the computer running the bots and the mining/rod making operation. The computer quickly became a super computer as more memory was plugged into it. It isn’t fast by modern computer standards; that’s impossible to achieve with modular units. But it’s smart. And I fed an Oracle program into it.”
“Oracle program?”
“It continuously analyzed what the bots were doing and made alterations in their programs to speed things up. The bots have been turning out rods at maximum production rates.”
“Faster than I’d ever thought possible,” I agreed, looking at the massive stack they’d created.
“Wait a minute. There are more bots, too.”
She chuckled. “Yeah, I was wondering when you’d notice. I’m guessing the Oracle computer took information from the mass information storage computer on the base and started a side assembly line which making new bots to add to the work force. That surprised me but probably made perfect sense to the computer. More bots would, after all, make the process of creating rods faster.”
“I think you created a Frankenstein.”
While the rest of our convoy was getting settled into their small rooms in the base, Nikki and I stood outside in the slow lunar sunset and watched the activity of the bots as they dragged rods out on sleds. The rods were piled in a huge arch-like arrangement that Oracle had come up with.
“You know, there aren’t many of the original bots working,” I said after we watched the process for a while.
“There aren’t any at all, near as I can tell,” Nikki said.
“Hey, Jake, you listening in?” I asked.
“I shouldn’t be, but I am. Sorry.”
“No problem. You inside the mining area?”
“Yeah,” he said. ” I know what you’re going to ask. The answer is that there is one of the original bots in here. What happened to the others? Worn out?”
“Maybe,” Nikki said. “But I doubt it. It would always be easier to use the repair program rather than completely replace the bot. Especially since the mini-factory I set up is making the same standard memory units that Oracle and all the bots use.”
“Can you check Oracle for what happened, Nikki?” I asked.
“Sure. I’m curious, too. I’ll be back in a minute.”
I watched her bound away then turned my attention to a pair of bots that pulled a load of rods from the plant toward the stack. Then I realized something rather strange was going on. Rather than pile the rods along the outside, the bots had been walking down the aisle formed by two stacks of the rods.
I followed the bots, curious as to where they were headed. They made their way down the aisle, then made a left turn, right into what should have been a wall. “What the…?”
They were gone for about five minutes while I tried to figure out what the bots were up to.
“What’s going on?” Nikki asked bouncing up to where I stood.
“I don’t know. See those bots coming out with the empty cart?”