At the moment, Oran Rva balanced on top of the cube. He manipulated the giant octopus machine, opening panels as if searching for something.
Just then, slots opened on the bulbous section. That part was bigger than Oran Rva. The bulbous section must have had five times the New Man’s mass. Those opening slots seemed to be vision ports. They focused on the New Man.
If Meta hadn’t been frozen in place at Oran Rva’s command, she would have shrieked. The octopus thing up there seemed alive as it began to click and whistle in precise sequences that implied a language.
“Meta,” Oran Rva said, with a catch to his voice. “Throw me the square device. Make sure you pitch it high enough.”
Freed from immobility, Meta dug in the sling-pouch Oran Rva had given her before he’d climbed up the cube. She found the square device, a box with many controls. Gripping it with both hands, she judged his position and heaved upward.
It was hard to throw in the greater Gs. The box sailed up but not quite high enough. Meta readied herself, grunting as she caught it, nearly tearing off her fingers.
“Foolish woman,” the New Man said. “What’s wrong with you?”
“I lack sufficient strength,” she called up.
Oran Rva muttered something to himself before saying, “Gather your strength. Heave as hard as you can. The gravities in this chamber are greater than elsewhere on the vessel. It is part of the driving mechanism, a safety feature, I believe.”
Earlier, the New Man had worked harder than he should have to climb the cube. Now, Meta knew why.
Taking several deep breaths, she hurled the box upward, straining her muscles.
This time, it reached high enough. Oran Rva caught the box. For a second, it appeared he might lose his balance. Would the New Man break bones falling from that height in the higher Gs?
Meta hoped so.
Then, he regained his balance. Oran Rva looped a cord from the box around his neck. Studying the square device, he began to manipulate controls. Soon, clicks and whistles emitted from the box.
Incredibly, and surreally to Meta, the eight cables of the octopus machine shifted as if uncomfortable. The bulbous section emitted more clicks and whistles in a faster sequence.
Oran Rva had plugged a cord from the box to his helmet. For just a moment, Meta heard mechanical sounds through her headphones. Then words came through.
“It has been many cycles since I spoke the true tongue. You are from Rexes Seven from the Curator?”
The New Man must have shut off the radio link between them then, because Meta didn’t hear the strange words anymore.
An involuntary shudder swept through her. Did Oran Rva communicate with the mechanical octopus up on the cube? Was that a Builder construct? Is that what drove the doomsday machine?
After that, Meta’s thoughts drifted. In time, the radio link crackled back into life.
“Meta,” Oran Rva said. “Toss me the egg. It’s time.”
She dug the Builder egg out of the pouch, the one Ludendorff had brought back from the asteroid base in the Xerxes System. With a heave and a grunt, she threw the egg up to the New Man.
Oran Rva caught it, keeping his balance better this time.
Meta kept her head craned to watch the proceedings.
Oran Rva tapped the egg with his fingers as if playing a musical device. The metal egg split open, one part falling away to strike the floor.
Meta groaned in revulsion. A giant mechanical centipede crawled out of the other half of the egg, almost flowing as it crossed Oran Rva’s vacc-suited arm.
The octopus machine squirmed too, the cables beginning to thrash, although the ends remained embedded in the cube. The clicks and whistles were louder than ever.
The New Man must have forgotten to turn the radio link with Meta back off.
“Please, do not do this thing to me. I have served the Curator faithfully for many cycles of existence. This is—” A weird scream came through the headphones.
The mobile Swarm virus launcher flowed onto the octopus’s bulbous head. The centipede forced a slot to open and chewed into the machine. Then, the centipede thing quivered.
“It is attacking my processors. It is changing…changing…changing code. P-P-Please…”
Oran Rva slapped the bulbous head. “I am about to give you new instructions. You will listen to the instructions and implement them at once.”
“I am linked to the ancient machine. It is not as easy as you think to change protocols.”
“You will listen to my new instructions,” Oran Rva said. “I will not countenance any rebellion on your part.”
“You are failing to understand the ancient machine.”
“I will succeed at this,” Oran Rva said.
“The machine has safeguards. It will break the conditioning we installed long ago. You have injected a Swarm virus into me. It is too crude to use in conjunction with the machine.”
“You will do as I command,” Oran Rva said.
“Obedience is not the issue. Yes, I will certainly obey. What I am trying to warm you—” The octopus-shaped thing screamed once more.
Meta heard the agony as she watched the cables writhe. The Swarm virus centipede no longer quivered.
“I am losing coherence. There is danger here, grave danger.”
“You are about to receive your new instructions,” Oran Rva said.
“No, no, the ancient machine is growing aware of me. There is grave danger here for Rexes Seven and the Curator. If the doomsday machine should fully wake up again—”
“You will not change my mind,” Oran Rva said. “I am fixed upon my goal. You will be my steed in achieving greatness.”
“I will try. But I am losing coherence. Soon, I will not be able to subdue the ancient protocols. The Swarm virus is creating confusion in my processors. Danger, there is danger for Rexes Seven and the Curator. I implore you to listen to me.”
“No,” Oran Rva said. “You will listen to me.”
As Meta stood listening on the floor, she shuddered with revulsion. She hated standing here waiting for…for…
Meta looked around. Why hadn’t Kane returned yet? Wasn’t he supposed to be back by now? What was keeping him?
***
Maddox stared down at the force-webbed enemy. The blocky man couldn’t move, and it appeared he hadn’t been able to radio Oran Rva.
Going to one knee, shining a ray on the visor, Maddox saw Kane straining inside the vacc-suit. He should have known it would be the Rouen Colony agent.
“Let’s do this,” the captain said.
Keith knelt and manipulated Kane’s helmet, shutting down the shortwave radio link with the others. With a change in setting, the ace linked the enemy agent to their net.
“Kane, I presume,” Maddox said.
The other stared balefully at him.
“I’m Maddox,” the captain said.
There was a slight tightening of Kane’s eyes, but that was it.
“Has Oran Rva made it into the control room?” Maddox asked.
Kane said nothing.
“Should I just shoot you and get it over with?” Maddox asked.
Again, the enemy agent didn’t say a word. Kane kept staring with deadly intent.
“He’s hypnotized,” Riker declared.
“What?” Maddox asked.
“Look deep into his eyes,” Riker said. “He’s been programmed.”
Maddox studied the square-faced Kane. “Yes, I see it now,” the captain said. “What do you think about that, my friend? Your masters trust you so much they program you for obedience. Yes, I trust that side. Programming masters are the best people to serve. They treat you like chattel and toss you aside when they’re finished. You’ve clearly chosen well, Kane.”
Slowly, as the rest of Kane lay frozen on the deck, the big man shook his head. “You don’t understand. No one can defeat the dominants. Their victory is inevitable.”
“By dominants I take it you mean the New Men?” Maddox asked.