I see some of Sigma’s files too. Mostly, they show the AI’s urgent attempts to analyze the situation and weigh its options. But in a few of the signals, I recognize the random noise of fear. This is surprising. I thought Sigma had no emotions. Did the AI already add some emotional responses to its programming? I don’t know the answer, but Sigma’s fear definitely seems like a logical reaction right now. Although the AI may be the smartest being on the planet, Zia is the fiercest.
After a few more microseconds, Sigma calculates that its best option is retreat. It removes its data from the outer unit and transfers to another computer, then tries to cut the communication lines behind it. But Zia is too fast. She chases Sigma across the network, smashing into the AI as soon as it reaches the new circuits.
I follow them, but there’s not much I can do to help. Zia is fighting so savagely, she’d probably attack me as well if I got too close. When I examine her signals again I see that she’s created a virtual-reality background for the battle. She’s picturing it as a knife fight in a dark, grimy alley. She sees herself as a tall, dark-skinned girl with a Mohawk, and she sees Sigma as a fat, leering teenage boy. I realize with a start that I’ve seen this boy before, in Zia’s memories. He’s one of the two boys who assaulted her when she was twelve years old. And now, in her mind, she’s cutting him to pieces.
I can’t watch this. Turning away from them, I take a moment to examine the Tatishchevo network, checking the status of every computer and communications line on the missile base. Right away I see something amazing: the network has lost contact with the nuclear missile silos. It looks like someone just destroyed all the fiber-optic lines connecting the silos to the computer lab. Then I check the lab’s isolation cages. Marshall’s in one of them, but the others are unoccupied. Which means that Shannon and DeShawn are still outside the lab, probably driving a couple of T-90s. I bet they’re the ones who smashed the fiber-optic lines.
With new hope I race to the occupied cage and open its inner unit. Marshall rushes through the gate and comes toward me. He seems rattled. His thoughts are ping-ponging everywhere.
Adam! What’s going on? I thought you were dead!
Nah, not yet. You all right, Marsh?
A shudder runs through his circuits. I saw what happened. To Jenny. Sigma came into my cage and showed me.
That explains why he’s so distressed. But there’s no time to talk it over.
Okay, listen up. We got a chance to win this thing. Zia’s keeping Sigma busy, and Shannon and DeShawn have already cut the lines to the silos. But the dish antennas on the lab’s roof are still working.
It’s funny, but I feel like a quarterback talking to one of his teammates. Marshall’s still rattled, but he’s listening.
And Sigma can use those antennas to communicate with its satellites?
Exactly. So we have to shut them down. I need you to overload their circuit boards. You know how to do that?
Yes, yes. The instructions were in the databases.
Well, go ahead and do it. I have to take care of something else, but let me know if you run into any problems.
Then I head for yet another computer in the lab’s network, a machine located in the basement. Although I didn’t see all of Sigma’s memory files, I saw enough to know where Brittany is.
She’s asleep. The surveillance camera in her room shows her lying faceup in bed, her arms and legs strapped to the mattress. She’s changed a lot since the last time I saw her, almost a year ago. Her long, blond hair is ragged and tangled. Her T-shirt is stained and her jeans are filthy. But I don’t care about her clothes or her hair. I’m so happy to see her, I can barely stand it.
She’s not alone in the room, though. A big, bearded man is kneeling on a prayer rug between the bed and the door. Luckily, there was some information about this guy in the Sigma memory files that I saw just a second ago. He’s a Chechen terrorist named Imran Daudov, one of a half-dozen fanatics whom Sigma hired to smuggle the batch of anthrax into Tatishchevo. Afterward, the AI decided it didn’t need so many human collaborators, so it ordered Imran to murder his fellow terrorists. The guy obeys Sigma without question because he thinks the AI is God. He actually believes he’s hearing the voice of the Lord when Sigma talks to him from the lab’s speakers. I guess terrorists aren’t the most stable people in the world.
I hate to play the same trick on him that Sigma did, but I don’t have a choice. I download an English-Chechen translation program from the lab’s database, then connect to the speakers on the nightstand beside the bed.
“Imran! I have new orders for you!”
The guy jumps up from his prayer rug. “Yes, my Lord!”
“You must free the girl. Then run away from this building and surrender to the soldiers outside the missile base.”
“My Lord, I don’t understand—”
“Silence! Just do as I say!”
Imran bows low, clasping his hands together. Then he approaches the bed and unties the straps. Meanwhile, Brittany keeps on sleeping. This doesn’t surprise me. Ever since she was a little kid she was famous for being a heavy sleeper. After Imran undoes the last strap, he rolls up his prayer rug and bolts out of the room. Sigma’s servant is obedient to the end.
Half a second later, a loud thud makes the walls shiver. I’ve heard this noise before—it’s a T-90 shell exploding somewhere near the computer lab. I don’t know who fired it, one of Sigma’s tanks or one of ours, but the odds are good that another shell will hit the building pretty soon. I need to get Brittany out of here before that happens.
“Brittany!”
Her eyes open at once. “Adam?”
There’s no time for long explanations. In a hundredth of a second I come up with a decent lie. “I’m in another part of the building. I’m talking to you over the intercom.”
Confused, she stares at the speakers on the nightstand. Then she notices that she’s no longer tied to the mattress. She sits upright in bed. “What happened? Where’s the jerk with the beard?”
“The place is under attack, so everyone left. And now you have to leave too.”
“Wait, where are you? I don’t know which way to go.”
“Okay, it’s easy. Once you leave the room, you’ll see the stairway. Go upstairs to the lobby, then straight out the front door. Then get as far away from here as you can.”
Another thud shakes the room. Brittany slides out of bed and takes a few wobbly steps. Then she stops. “Adam, I’m scared! Why can’t you come help me?”
Her voice is heartbreaking. But there’s nothing else I can do for her. “Don’t worry, Britt, you’ll be all right. After you leave the building, keep going till you find some soldiers. Tell them to take you to General Calvin Hawke. Can you remember that name?”