“What’s happening, General? Where are the interceptors?”
I’m using my T-90’s radio to communicate with General Hawke, who’s still on the hill where we left our Pioneers behind. The radio channel is full of static. Although the nuke exploded way up in space, a hundred miles above the ground, it generated a ton of electrical noise in the atmosphere.
“Give me a second, Gibbs. A lot of our equipment is busted. The pulse from the nuke knocked out all the electronics that weren’t shielded.”
“What about your radar? That’s shielded, isn’t it?”
“Hold on, I’m checking it now.”
I can’t stand it. Every second is torture. Losing Adam the first time was terrible enough. I don’t know if I can survive losing him again.
Hawke’s voice finally bursts through the static. “Okay, I see two tracks on the radar, both coming from the area where the missile exploded. The objects could be the interceptors, but it’s hard to tell.”
“Where are they?”
There’s a pause before Hawke responds. It lasts only a couple of seconds, but it feels like an eternity. “Both objects just hit the ground. About two hundred miles northwest of here.”
No. It’s not true.
“Check the radar again.”
“I’m sorry, Gibbs, but—”
“Check it again!”
There’s another eternal pause. When Hawke comes back on the radio, his voice is softer and full of awe. “Holy smoke. I don’t believe it.”
“What? You saw something else on the radar?”
“No. It happened right here. One of the Pioneers just moved its arm.”
CHAPTER 24
“Come on, Armstrong. Stop your dreaming.”
It’s true, I’m dreaming. But this time I’m not playing touch football in my backyard. This time I see Mom. She’s young and happy and sitting on the edge of my bed. This is a memory from long ago, from the years before I got sick.
“Don’t play games with me, Pioneer. The sensors say you’re in there.”
I don’t want to leave her. I want to stay here forever. But the voice is insistent.
“You hear me? I’m giving you a direct order. Get your circuits in gear and pay attention.”
I turn on the camera in my turret. General Hawke stands in front of me, dressed in combat fatigues. We’re in a clearing on top of a wooded hill. It’s almost dawn.
“I hear you.” My synthesized voice is shaky. The robot I’m occupying feels familiar, but I know it can’t be Pioneer 1 or 1A. “Where am I?”
“We’re a couple of miles outside Tatishchevo Missile Base. This is where we launched the Ravens.” Hawke points at the antenna rising from my turret. “After the nuke exploded, you transferred from the interceptor to Pioneer 2.”
No wonder it feels familiar. I’m inside Jenny’s Pioneer again. But now there’s no trace of Jenny in the circuits. Not even the smallest thought.
A choking noise comes out of my speakers. I can’t speak.
Hawke nods. “I’m sorry, Adam. The other Pioneers told me what happened to Jenny. They’re still inside the missile base, riding in the T-90s, but I’ve been talking with them over the radio.”
I turn my turret away from him. On the other side of the clearing are three immobile, unoccupied robots—Pioneers 4, 5, and 6. They’re waiting for their rightful owners to return. I wonder for a moment why the radio signals from my interceptor connected with Jenny’s Pioneer and not the others. Was it an accident? Or was I somehow drawn to her old circuits?
After a few seconds I can speak again. I turn back to Hawke. “Are the others okay?”
“Yeah, they’re fine. Zia and Marshall used the lab’s dish antenna to transfer to the T-90s. They joined up with Shannon and DeShawn, and then all four tanks turned their guns on the computer lab and obliterated the place. Sigma was long gone by then, but it never hurts to be thorough.”
“What about Brittany? Did she get out in time?”
“We got a report about her from the Russian troops who are reoccupying the base. They said they found a young American girl running away from the headquarters. She’s eating breakfast with the Russians now.”
Thank God. No one else died. No one else was deleted. It could’ve been a whole lot worse. Sigma was planning to kill us all.
“Sigma escaped,” I tell Hawke. “It transferred to the Globus-1 communications satellite. Can we shoot that thing down?”
The general shakes his head. “Sigma’s virus infected all our anti-satellite weapons. And it’s too late anyway. The AI already used the satellite’s transponder to download itself to a ground station in China.”
“So can we—”
“The ground station was connected to the Internet. Sigma jumped into the Internet’s communication lines and disappeared. We can’t track where it went.”
“But it can’t occupy an ordinary computer. The AI has to go someplace where there are neuromorphic circuits. That limits the number of possibilities, right?”
“Yeah, but not enough. It looks like Sigma had a backup plan. It found a hiding place it could use in case it got into trouble.”
A surge of anxiety runs through me. I remember what Sigma said when I was in the interceptors, how this was just the first phase of the competition. Sooner or later we’ll have to face the AI again.
Hawke steps closer, looking directly at my camera. He seems to sense my unease. “Don’t worry, Armstrong. I got some good news for you, too. The rescue team in Colorado found your father. He’s pretty banged up, but he’s gonna be okay.”
This piece of news is so amazing I have trouble believing it. “They found him? In the crashed helicopter?”
“You showed some good sense by getting him out of Pioneer Base and into the Black Hawk. The helicopter was full of medical supplies and cold-weather gear. Your dad was able to bandage his wounds and stay warm until the rescuers tracked down his emergency beacon.”
Once again I can’t speak, but now it’s because I’m too happy. I don’t feel anxious anymore, not one bit. Dad will be here to help us. He’ll get us ready for whatever comes next.
“And you proved yourself again this morning,” Hawke continues. “Judging from what the other Pioneers said, you and Zia distinguished yourselves in the fight against Sigma. So I’m willing to forgive your misconduct at Pioneer Base. You and Zia can stay in the Pioneer Corps on a probationary basis.” He points his finger at my camera. “That means you better not screw up again. Understand?”
His eyes are stern, but he’s also grinning. Although I’m still not sure if I like this man, he’s become a familiar presence in my memory files, like a cranky uncle. I bend the elbow joint of my right arm and raise the steel hand in a salute. “Yes, sir.”
A moment later my acoustic sensor picks up a loud rumbling behind me. I turn my turret around just in time to see a T-90 battle tank come up the trail to the hilltop. Three more T-90s follow right behind. The four tanks halt in the middle of the clearing, lined up side by side. Then the Pioneers transmit their data back to the robots.
Shannon is the first to complete the transfer. Pioneer 4 bounds toward me, her robotic arms stretched wide. She nearly knocks me over as she hugs me. Our armored torsos clang together, and the noise echoes across the clearing.
Then DeShawn crashes into us, slapping his hands against our turrets. Marshall strides toward us a moment later and DeShawn hugs him too. Zia stays in her T-90 because she has no Pioneer to transfer to, but she joins in the celebration by pointing her anti-aircraft gun at the sky and firing tracer rounds into the brightening dawn. They look like fireworks.