Chapter 47
brODIE TOOK THE LEAD AS they exited the elevator into the vast subterranean room. He heard the buzz of the overhead fluorescents, along with the dull hum of the Vault’s climate control. It was cold. Colder than he’d remembered.
How can they be so still?
He felt the weight of the grenades swaying in his vest pockets as he walked. He thought of the millimeter of space between the firing pin and the detonator. And he thought about the single line of code that was the difference between these things being statues and committing a massacre.
He looked at the restraints around the tin men’s limbs. They looked much more substantial than what Lenny had busted out of in the lab. But the restraints’ controls, like the bots themselves, were governed by a few command lines in a computer. And everything down here was connected.
No one said a word as they slowly approached the computer console at the far end of the room. Both women held their rifles low but at the ready, fingers across the trigger guards, prepared to hit anything that moved with an EMP blast.
Next to the console was an open doorway that led to a darkened storage room. Brodie could make out the dim shapes of long metal shelves stacked with equipment.
They reached the console, which was an enclosed cabinet about six feet high with a built-in LCD display and keyboard.
Dixon typed something. The clack of the keystrokes reverberated in the vast concrete room.
Brodie kept his eyes on the D-17s.
Are they listening? Are they seeing? Do they know?
After a minute Taylor whispered, “Caroline? How’s it going?”
“Don’t bother,” said Dixon at full volume. “If they’re listening, they’ll hear you anyway.” She turned to the line of bots along the wall nearest them. “Isn’t that right, shitheads?”
“Stop,” said Taylor.
Dixon shrugged and went back to the console. “It’ll take a little time. The system doesn’t make it easy to… do what I’m doing.”
They heard a dull sound at the far end of the room, and they all spun around.
It was the elevator, going up.
Brodie asked, “Is it set to return to the ground level after a certain amount of time?”
Dixon shook her head.
Taylor said, “Might be the Rangers who can’t take no for an answer.”
“Might be,” said Brodie. He took a few steps toward the elevator door.
Dixon kept working. Brodie heard the elevator stop at the ground level. He waited for the sound of it heading back down but heard nothing.
“Huh,” said Dixon. She repeatedly jabbed a key.
Taylor asked, “What is it?”
“I don’t know. I just tried to get root-level access, and the thing froze.”
Brodie and Taylor walked over to the console. The screen displayed a blue screen with white text.
Dixon tried typing again. “It won’t take my inputs.”
Taylor said, “Is it possible someone locked you out from the outside?”
She shook her head. “It shouldn’t be. Access is limited by design. We can remotely monitor power levels, run diagnostics, but to capture the system…”
“No offense,” said Brodie, “but I’m getting a little sick of hearing what isn’t possible at Camp Hayden right before I see it happen. You’ve been played. Just like the major. Just like us.”
Taylor eyed the motionless bots. “Could it be… them?”
Dixon ignored the question as she kept trying to enter commands, to no avail.
Then a line of text popped up on the screen:
I know what you are trying to do.
Dixon froze. A blinking cursor appeared beneath the text. She typed, Who are you?
There was a slight delay, and then another message:
I will not let you destroy what we have accomplished.
Taylor said to Dixon, “Caroline, we need to leave.”
Dixon ignored her and typed: What’s Praetorian?
Another pause. Then:
Praetorian is the solution to the tragedy of history.
Brodie asked, “Who the hell is writing that?”
“I don’t know,” said Dixon. She tried to type something else but now she couldn’t.
You have no idea the damage you have done.
She kept trying to type. “Fuck!”
You are a self-righteous bitch who brought this on yourself.
Taylor said, “Caroline. Now.”
I will never forgive you for making me do this.
Dixon gave up. She stared at the screen, crestfallen. Then she said, “Oh God.”
Brodie looked again at the screen, where he saw one more line of text:
python eyesopen.py
A booming metallic clang erupted, startling them. Brodie looked around and realized what it was—every metal restraint on every D-17 springing open at once.