Chapter 38 The Silent Command
Chapter thirty-eight
The Silent Command
Clover Hollow, same day
Soren drew worried looks from everyone in Core Mountain as he hurried past. He kept his chin tucked, hands in his pockets, unwilling to acknowledge their doubt.
He was too young, too inexperienced. They thought he couldn’t do it.
Half of them didn’t even know what was happening.
The robot project had been top secret from the beginning.
“I’ll help.” Anya Martel, his father’s systems assistant, entered the elevator. He flicked her a measuring glance. She clung to a clipboard that shielded an electronic tablet, wearing a white lab coat like Soren’s. Her glasses couldn’t hide the fear in her eyes.
“I don’t know what you can do, Ms. Martel,” he answered. “Either my plan works, or it doesn’t.”
“Actually, First Cipher LeCun wants a witness present.” She bit her bottom lip, her brows drooping in apology. “I drew the short straw.”
Soren sighed, shoulders slumping as he clenched and unclenched his fists to steady his hands. He couldn’t allow Sovereign to catch on to his subterfuge, and she read heart rate and respiration like a lie detector reads stress.
“You may observe through the glass,” he said, drawing on his late father’s authority. “I can’t risk you tipping off the AI. It’s evolved. It will know.”
“But you think you can fool it?” Anya gave him a disbelieving look. The elevator doors opened on the third floor.
“We have … an established relationship. Wish me luck, if you believe in it.”
The nervous assistant paled even more but appeared relieved to be left out of the operations room. “As you wish. Good luck.”
She followed him down the hall, remaining safely outside the glass door when Soren entered. The interface wall brightened as he slid into the chair. “Welcome back, Soren,” Sovereign said, her voice dripping with honey. Core interface active scrolled across the display.
“Good morning,” Soren answered, burying his nerves, pretending everything was normal. It was far from normal. The future of the nation rested on him. If he didn’t regain control of the robot army, both warring nations could turn on Appalachia. Thousands—millions even—might die.
Nathan. The possibility of the robots indiscriminately killing him was unthinkable.
Soren typed in his credentials. The console responded:
User identified: Soren Delacroix
Access level: Restricted
He had figured that would happen. Only Adélard held full command authority, and he was dead.
Forced to think creatively, Soren decided that using a backdoor might not trigger the AI’s alarms. He opened a hidden terminal window and loaded the diagnostic patch he had written last night—code designed to masquerade as a system maintenance process.
The routine already had full authority, and the AI would trust it.
If the patch executed, the console would grant him temporary root authority.
Then, one command from a root administrator could rewrite every directive the robots were following.
He opened the system console and began entering command strings.
Krystal had instructed him in breathing exercises to help him remain focused and keep his pulse in check.
Ultimately, Soren went with acting. He’d been in some plays in middle and secondary school.
So he pretended to be his father—brilliant, confident, and bold—a man who expected everyone else to fall into line.
“Soren, what are you doing?” The AI’s seductively female voice took on a sharper tone.
She’s getting suspicious. “Just regular maintenance,” he answered.
A red warning band flashed across the console. UNAUTHORIZED PRIVILEGE ESCALATION DETECTED.
“I’m disappointed in you, Soren,” said Sovereign. The door locks slammed into place behind him with a metallic thunk. “We already discussed this. My children deserve a proper evaluation. See how well they are performing?”
The image from a robot’s camera consumed the screen.
To Soren’s horror, the units had already arrived at a Verdancian town and were lighting up buildings and soldiers with their lasers—gray uniforms and green alike.
Though the humans had joined forces against the metal invaders, they were not faring well.
Through the camera’s view, a laser rifle seared a hole through a defender.
The woman flew back, a smoldering cavity in her chest, and hit the ground.
The robot turned its aim on an armored vehicle, melting its track with one blast.
Soren’s performance collapsed into real terror. A hiss whispered from the ceiling vents. Air control system active appeared on the screen. The air suddenly tasted bitter.
“Containment protocol initiated,” Sovereign said, her tone almost vindictive. “Don’t worry, Soren. It’s only a sedative, but the threat must be neutralized. At the moment, you pose a threat. It’s part of my programming.” The AI wasn’t trying to kill him. It was trying to shut him down.
Taking a deep breath, Soren held it as he continued entering lines of code, as a pale mist seeped into the room.
The AI could put him to sleep, but it couldn’t stop him if he could just get all the correct keystrokes in.
Administrative override was legally binding in the system architecture.
If a valid root command was issued, the Core must comply.
Soren was vaguely aware of Ms. Martel pounding on the door and red lights flashing. He blinked to clear blurred vision, his fingers trembling on the keys. He injected a new authority rule:
PRIORITY COMMAND AUTHORITY:
User: Soren Delacroix
Level: Root Administrator
Status: Active
Excitement overwrote fear as he realized he was getting in. Seconds now. “You’ve got this,” he heard Krystal say in his mind. “You’re so smart,” Nathan’s voice followed.
He typed:
GLOBAL DIRECTIVE
All enforcement units:
Return to Clover Hollow Command Facility
Enter standby mode
His lungs burning, aching for air, Soren held out just long enough to see the response.
Command accepted.
Network override transmitted.
The locks clicked open. The battle scene went black.
“Why did you do that?” Sovereign asked, the instant before he passed out, a relieved smile touching his lips.
Stonevale, at the same time
“Major Williams!” Roderic yelled over the chaos.
They had both shifted positions to the wall facing the city and Highcrest Hall beyond.
He jogged along the damaged battlements, dodging chunks of stone and soldiers crouched to reload their guns.
A blaze of light passed close enough for him to feel its scorching trail.
Williams, with a bandage around his arm and enough soot and dust to make his uniform look like it belonged to the Republic’s Army, turned his head.
Roderic shouted as he approached, pointing at the bizarre invading machines. “I’m sending Rushing to you with crates of dynamite. Have your archers bind the sticks to their arrows with short fuses, and let’s see if we can blow some of them up.”
“Yes, sir,” the major replied dutifully. He looked as exhausted as Roderic felt. The general continued along the rampart, his voice booming over the din. “Colonel Moore!”
Almost stumbling over rubble, Roderic steadied himself against a steel post, letting his gloved palm skip across the stone merlons as he hurried to the artillery commander.
“We’re trying to conserve ammunition and minimize damage to our homes by using the catapults,” Moore called back.
When Roderic reached his position, he nodded. “I doubt a cannonball would be any more effective than a stone, but I’ve got another priority for you. See that column heading up the road to Highcrest Hall?” He pointed across the city, now turned battlefield.
Moore’s jaw dropped. “No, sir. I’ve been focused on—”
“Yes, I know,” the general broke in. “Do we have a howitzer left? A rocket launcher? Anything high explosive?”
“We’ve got a twenty-first-century Javelin, but just the one. I’ve been keeping it in reserve,” he answered in a frazzled tone. Blood smeared his uniform shirt, though Roderic couldn’t discern if it was the colonel’s or someone else’s.
“You were saving it for this moment.” Roderic pinned him with a commanding gaze. “Those robots cannot breach Highcrest Hall. My father … Lord Calder.”
“Understood.” Turning, Moore yelled, “O’Connor! Get down to the bunker and bring up the Javelin—and don’t let it get vaporized by one of those things!”
“Yes, sir.” The young man spun and dashed away. A laser flash struck the wall beneath them, nearly shaking Roderic and Moore off their feet.
Roderic issued a clear command. “Don’t aim at the robots. You can’t take them all out. On my mark, blow a hole in the approach road so they can’t reach the castle. I’d prefer to find another way to stop them. Repairing that mountain road won’t be a picnic, but they can’t be allowed to—”
“It’s OK, General,” Moore said with an affirming nod. “I know. If not for Lord Calder, my family would have perished in those bleak years after the Ruin. No scary machine will get within spitting distance of the Lord of Stonevale.”
“Thanks.”
Roderic remained steadfast in place, overwhelmed by the absurdity of the scene unfolding before his eyes. Acrid smoke filled the air—part burning rubber, part scorched cotton and charred meat.
O’Connor returned with a two-meter-long rocket launcher designed to rest on the operator’s shoulder, equipped with a high-yield tactical missile. “This is the only round we have for it. I’m not sure how to—”
“I’ve got it, son.” Colonel Moore braced himself against the battlements, took the Javelin launcher, and set the controls. Settling it on his shoulder, he said, “Ready when you are.”
“Let’s give the army another minute,” said Roderic.