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Alarm surged through Sirix’s cybernetic mind. “Open fire.” The new robots aboard did not respond.

Because of their frantic exodus, this particular Thunderhead was still under repair. Had its weapons been disabled? In a frantic staccato he repeated his order to fire, but before the robots aboard could obey, the swarmships were upon the faltering platform.

Bristling with a thousand bright needles, the two Klikiss vessels opened fire, and within moments the lagging Thunderhead exploded, spraying molten debris in all directions.

A complete failure. And now the black robots had lost time and any advantage they might have gained by the sacrifice. As the explosion’s flare dissipated, Sirix commanded his remaining ships to fly faster.

The two swarmships suddenly disassembled themselves, and each spewed a heavy stream of component ships forward at impossible accelerations, like thick jets of particles. The flare of component vessels arced around to recoalesce as a third, smaller swarmship directly in front of Sirix’s fleeing fleet. From behind, the two original swarmships began to open fire on the rearmost black robot ships, while the newly formed cluster shot at the lead vessels.

Two of the repaired EDF Mantas were destroyed; one of the new robot-design ships was disabled and reeling out of control.

Sirix would have to make his last stand here, at the fringes of the Earth’s solar system. He continued to run calculations and reevaluate his plans. Very few options remained.

PD and QT stood at their weapons stations, ready to strike out against the enemy that Sirix had programmed them to hate. He was gratified that these two compies had not proved to be disappointments, as DD had.

“With our enhanced new weaponry, these ships are not demonstrably inferior to the Klikiss,” PD pointed out. “Our odds of success are non-zero.”

QT agreed. “If we attack them now, we have a small probability of victory. But we must attack.”

Sirix had come to the same conclusion. Linked by instantaneous communication and programming, all his robots could command their ships to reverse course in an instant, a perfectly coordinated maneuver. A surprise turnabout — as surprising as his new weapons would be. And the sooner he did this, the less the Klikiss would expect it. He could at least cripple the pursuing swarmships. That was all he needed. He could still get away.

At his command, Sirix’s group of ships fanned out, dispersing widely to render themselves more difficult targets. Next, in a coordinated effort, they all wheeled around to turn their weaponry upon the swarmships from every angle. If his robots all opened fire at once, with perfect targeting accuracy, the Klikiss would suffer heavy damage.

Before the surprised swarmships could react, Sirix instructed all his gunners to open fire. From their consoles beside him, PD and QT sent rapid bursts of enhanced jazers into the nearest swarmship.

But none of the other robots shot their weapons.

Sirix sent the command again. “Destroy the Klikiss. Open fire.” Precious seconds were ticking away.

Aboard his ship, every one of the newly manufactured black robots froze in position. None of them lifted an articulated claw to activate the weapons controls directly in front of them.

The robot vessels remained silent. No shots were fired.

A few of his original comrades sent frantic signals, reporting the same fault on their ships.

Sirix swiftly noted the commonality: All of the Hansa-manufactured robots had failed, and all at the same time. Some programming snag had shut them down.

Without hesitation, the swarmships began to shoot at them from all sides.

As multiple explosions struck the hull of his Manta, he sent an urgent signal burst. “This is a priority override. Delete any programming that has hindered your obedience. Find and remove any corrupted command strings.”

He received no response. All of the most sophisticated instructions he summoned from his central programming went ignored. This crippling shutdown went deep into the core of the new robots’ operating systems.

“There seems to be a malfunction,” QT said.

“Perhaps the Hansa installed defective programming before they released the new robots to us,” PD suggested.

It was not possible. Sirix had thoroughly checked every single newly manufactured robot emerging from the fabrication lines. His comrades had performed detailed quality-control checks. He could not comprehend how the humans could possibly have understood Klikiss programming well enough to accomplish something of this magnitude.

And yet the robots themselves had given them all the tools they needed. They had offered the Hansa scientists modules to duplicate for their Soldier compies. The humans could not be sufficiently sophisticated to understand the subtleties and introduce hidden programming bombs.They could not be!

Yet all of his new robots had shut down as soon as he ordered them to open fire.

At his weapons console, QT did not pause in his constant firing. “The timing of this failure is very inconvenient.”

Scattered, pathetic bursts of jazer fire came from his other ships, where a few of the original black robots had seized the weapons controls. But the smattering of blasts was utterly inadequate.

The three globular swarmships broke apart into a large, dispersed cloud of cumulatively deadly component vessels. They turned on the robot ships.

Sirix frantically tried to find some way to escape, but he could discern no viable alternatives.

On his Manta’s bridge, one of the new black robots lifted its geometric head. Its red optical sensors dimmed, and recorded words emerged from its speaker in the voice of Chairman Basil Wenceslas. His tone sounded amused.

“Sirix, I was never the fool you took me for. These new robots were manufactured with an Achilles’ heel. I had my cybernetics engineers install a shutdown switch in the core programming that would activate the moment you ordered them to take aggressive action. You cannot delete or override it. Your new robots are now completely useless to you.” Sirix could hear the deep satisfaction in the Chairman’s voice. “My only regret is that I could not be there myself to see the effects of my revenge.”

When the recording ended, Sirix understood what it was to be betrayed, exactly as he himself had betrayed the humans and the original Klikiss race.

The dispersed swarmships began to open fire, and his own vessels could not withstand the barrage from thousands of components.

In the face of imminent destruction, Sirix took scant satisfaction from knowing that his own final plan would cripple the Hansa. Chairman Wenceslas was not the only one who had schemed to take his enemy/ally unawares.

The booby-trapped explosives his robots had planted in the repaired EDF battleships were tied to a “dead man” switch inside himself. In the event of Sirix’s destruction, those bombs would all be triggered. It was cold comfort, though. Either way, he and his robotic comrades would be destroyed.