“Where he mysteriously asphyxiated,” added Vargas.
“Suicide?” I asked.
“Nope,” said Angie. “No noose, no strangulation, no rope. Just dead in his bed. They put it down to a freak malfunction in the ventilation system.”
“Which was apparently controlled by the AI,” said Vargas.
“Jesus.”
“Yeah,” said Angle. “That kinda made the “Evil AI” rumor spread and more of the research team started talking about shutting it down, which is when the bosses decided that for security reasons, the keys to the self–destruct system would be moved to the Citadel Launch Facility, which looks like it was the head office for the whole project.”
“So,” I said, putting it all together. “The keys to destroy the computer that’s making all the killer robots are in this Citadel Launch Facility, wherever that is.”
“Sounds like Guardian Citadel,” said Hell Razor. “The clubhouse of the Guardians of the Old Order.”
“You know this for sure?” asked Athalia.
“Pretty sure,” said Hell Razor. “Tangled with the Guardians back in my raidin’ days. Place used to have a big sign out front that said, ‘Citadel Launch Facility.’“
Angie raised an eyebrow. “Used to?”
Hell Razor chuckled. “We stole it. Letters were made of copper. Melted ‘em down for shell casings.”
I sighed. “So, that’s our next stop then? Another one of these damn underground rabbit warrens?”
“Looks like it,” said Angie. “Though who knows if they’ll still have the keys anymore.”
“Oh, they’ll have ‘em,” said Vargas. “The Guardians never throw anything away.”
“Do we know what the keys look like?”
“Actually, we do,” said Angie. “There’s a picture of them in this email. Have a look.”
We all squeezed in tighter to get a look at the monitor. It showed a slightly blurry picture of four notched metal tubes each about the size of the barrel of a pistol. They had LEDs along their sides, flanges at the back end, and conductor plates at the business end — the height of pre–apocalypse tech.
“Is it worth going after them?” asked Athalia. “If you know the Guardians never throw anything away, you also know they never give anything up. You’re going to go there and they’re just going to stonewall you, maybe even fight you. Maybe we should just head straight for Cochise and find another way to do this.”
“She’s got a point,” I said. “If we get into it with the Guardians we might be end up at half strength by the time we get to Cochise, and from the sound of it, we’re going to need every gun we’ve got.”
“And the keys to blow up the base are the biggest gun we can get,” said Vargas. “What happens if we fight our way in and there’s no way to shut down the computer? Do you think it’s just gonna have a plug somewhere you can pull?”
Angie nodded. “If it really is self–aware, it’s gonna be protecting itself every which way it can. We gotta bring everything we can think of.”
Athalia frowned. “But do we have time to take another detour? We’ve got the armor now. Every hour we spend not going to Cochise is another hour its robots are out there killing everybody. Do you want those deaths on your hands?”
“There’ll be even more deaths if we don’t manage to kill it at all,” said Vargas. “We’ve got one shot at this. We can’t fuck it up.”
Angie stood. “You two can go to Base Cochise if you want. We can’t stop you. But we’re gonna go see the Guardians.”
I looked at Athalia. “What do you want to do?”
She shrugged. “What am I going to do at Base Cochise by myself? It’s fine. I’m outvoted. Let’s go.”
But later that night it was a different story.
We were camped again after trekking all day twoardGuardian Citadel, and Athalia and I had once again found a place to lay out our bedrolls a little ways away from the others. We were lying there spent and sweaty after another romantic interlude, just getting our breath back.
I was about to roll back to my own bedroll when Athalia clamped her arms around me and whispered in my ear.
“Let’s leave,” she said. “Right now.”
I was still recovering from our recent exertions and wasn’t at my wittiest. “Huh?”
“I don’t want to travel with your friends anymore. Let’s leave them and go.”
“Uh… to Base Cochise?”
“No!” She looked around, then lowered her voice again. “No. Fuck Base Cochise. Fuck the Guardians. Fuck this mission. Let’s just go away together someplace, south maybe, and just… live.”
I grunted and rolled off of her, then propped myself up on my elbow so I could look at her. Seemed like some of her old self was showing through, the tough tattooed self she was before she became a sister of the Mushroom Cloud.
“You know I can’t do that,” I said. “I’m still on this mission. I’m still a ranger, and—”
“But you’re not! The ranger died two bodies ago.” Athalia took my hand. “Listen, I appreciate that you still feel loyalty to the others, and I know this mission is important to you and the wastes, but… but I don’t want you to die! I don’t want the Guardians to kill you. Just… just let the others do it. They know what to do now. They know where to go. They have the skills. They don’t need us. We don’t have to be a part of… of what’s coming.”
I signed and lay back, staring up at the sky. “Everything you say makes sense, but I can’t leave it half done. I… well, even if I don’t owe it to them — or the world — I owe it to the man I was, the guy who died to make me — twice. Part of him is still part of me, and he can’t let it go.”
Athalia closed her eyes. A sob escaped her.
I pulled her close and kissed the top of her head. “I’m still coming with you, though. Don’t worry. Once we finish off this damned AI, you and me’ll go wherever you want. Do whatever you want. I promise.”
“If,” she said.
“Huh? If what?”
“It isn’t ‘Once we finish off the AI,’ it’s if.” She turned away from me, cold. “If.”
“Looks stronger than I remember.”
“Yeah.”
We were all crouched on a ridge about a half–mile out from Guardian Citadel, staring at its massive concrete frontage in the red light of the setting sun. The place was built inside a mountain with only a big walled–in courtyard and its massive bronze front door exposed. Angie was using the scope of her long gun to check it out, and she didn’t seem to like the close–up any better than the rest of us liked the wide–angle.
“Well,” said Vargas. “Hopefully it won’t matter. Hopefully the Guardians will see that they’re in as much danger from those robots as everybody else, and they’ll hand over the keys without a fight.”
“They won’t,” said Athalia. She’d been glum all day, and the sight of the Citadel seemed to be making her even glummer.
“Never had any dealings with these guys,” said Ace. “What’s their deal?”
“Their deal is they’re assholes,” snarled Hell Razor, and Thrasher nodded in silent agreement.
Ace rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but how are they assholes?”
Vargas laughed and slid down until his back was against the ridge, then lit up a smoke. “The Guardians of the Old Order know everything, have everything, and share nothing. They’re a bunch of xenophobic maniacs who think that the world is a big old cosmic puzzle and that once they have all the pieces and know how to fit them together, the universe will grant them dominion over everything and everyone. And then the fun real will begin.”
Ace blinked. “Uh… okay.”