Siege (19 page)

I'm next in line, feeling tense and twitchy. I'm worried about the new Snake-bots, which are twice as big as the one we fought at McGuire. Sigma seems to have an endless supply of machinery, and each new robot it builds is larger and more terrifying than the last one. And even if we somehow manage to win this battle, I'm worried it'll delay us from rescuing Brittany.

Within seconds the V-22 is hovering over the carrier. Then Shannon yells, “
Go
!
” and Zia leaps aboard the
Intrepid
.

As soon as she hits the flight deck, Zia charges toward the carrier's bow, where chains and power cables link the ship to the riverbank. DeShawn's Einstein-bot jumps after her and his quadcopter takes off from the ramp at the same time, lifting his Swarm-bot high above the
Intrepid
. I jump next and follow them, running past the vintage airplanes lined up on the deck. Then the V-22 touches down on the carrier, and Shannon's Diamond Girl races out of the aircraft.

We all dash toward the carrier's bow. There's a gap between the ship and the riverbank, but we should be able to jump from the flight deck to the shore. I see something disturbing, though, beyond the riverbank. The blue-tinted Snake-bot that erupted from 46th Street is now stretched over Twelfth Avenue and lunging downward at the
Intrepid
. The tentacle lashes toward us like a gigantic steel whip, so heavy that it thunders as it sweeps across the sky.

DeShawn flies his Swarm-bot out of the tentacle's path, and Amber banks her Jet-bot away from it, but the rest of us can't escape. We have to fight.

I stop running, raise my Quarter-bot's arms straight up, and fire both my lasers at the tentacle. The yellow beams lance skyward and strike the underside of the Snake-bot, a hundred feet from the tip. There's a massive explosion, a fireball as bright as the sun. The gamma-ray beams melt the Snake-bot's armor and burn through all the machinery within.

I feel a rush of excitement at the flames and smoke. It's phenomenal to have so much power at my command. It's the best feeling in the world.

Zia halts near the
Intrepi
d
's bow and aims her own lasers at the Snake-bot's underside. DeShawn and Shannon join in too, concentrating their fire on the same spot. More explosions erupt from the blue-tinted armor, one after another, like a fireworks show. Finally, there's a blast so powerful it fractures the tentacle. The uppermost section breaks off from the rest of the Snake-bot.

It's a great moment. I feel like the quarterback of a football team that's just won the biggest game of the season. But the good feeling doesn't last long. Although the uppermost section of the tentacle is now just a severed hunk of metal, it's still plunging toward the aircraft carrier.

We start running again, faster than before. In two seconds DeShawn and I catch up to Zia and stand at the carrier's bow with her. Shannon is running as fast as she can, but she's still twenty feet behind. Bracing myself, I extend my Quarter-bot's arms as far as they can reach, hook them around her Diamond Girl's torso, and slingshot her forward, hurling her off the ship. Then I flex my legs and jump toward shore, half a second after Zia and DeShawn make the same leap.

While we're still in midair, the severed piece of the Snake-bot smashes into the
Intrepid
. I hear the crash behind me, and then my Quarter-bot lands on the riverbank and slides to a stop on Twelfth Avenue. First I get back on my footpads and check to see if Shannon, Zia, and DeShawn are all right. Then I turn around to look at the aircraft carrier, which is still rocking from the impact. The V-22 and the vintage airplanes are in a million pieces, some scattered on the flight deck and some tumbling into the river. After a moment the carrier's bow tilts into the water, and the ship starts to sink.

Shannon points in the opposite direction. “Look! It's crawling away!”

The blue-tinted Snake-bot that we shortened with our lasers now lies flat on Forty-Sixth Street. The tentacle is still longer than a city block and so wide it barely fits between the sidewalks, but there's enough room for it to slither down the street. It moves east, away from the river. As it glides forward, its armor crushes the parked cars on both sides of Forty-Sixth Street and flattens the fire hydrants on the curbs. When it crosses Eleventh Avenue, it knocks down the traffic lights.

A triumphant cry comes out of Zia's speakers. “
Ha!
It's scared! It didn't like getting sliced in two, did it?”

DeShawn shakes his Einstein-bot's head. “Nah, it's not retreating. It's maneuvering. The two other tentacles are going in the same direction.” He points at his quadcopter, which hovers five hundred feet above us. “I can see all three of them with the cameras in my Swarm-bot.”

Then we get a radio message from Amber. Although her Jet-bot is flying to the south of us, almost half a mile away, she can follow our conversation because she's connected to our sensor feeds.
DeShawn's right. The silver Snake-bot is moving east on Forty-Second Street, heading for Tenth Avenue. The yellow one is already at Fortieth Street and Ninth. They're just behind the stampeding crowds. It looks like the tentacles are chasing them.

“No, not chasing.” DeShawn shakes his head again. “The Snake-bots are
herding
them.”

That doesn't sound good. I turn to DeShawn. “Herding them? Why?”

His Einstein-bot frowns. There's nothing amusing about his face now. “Sigma obviously wants our attention. It attacked Manhattan at exactly the moment we flew past. And now it's threatening thousands of civilians. It knows we can't ignore that.”

“So maybe this is all a distraction?” I'm thinking of Brittany. Sigma said it was going to take her to the Unicorp lab. “Maybe Sigma just wants to stop us from getting to Yorktown Heights?”

DeShawn lifts his shoulder joints in a shrug. “I don't know. We don't have enough information to—”

“Or it could be a trap.” My voice rises. I'm getting agitated, my circuits sparking. “Sigma knows we'll follow the civilians and try to protect them, so maybe it'll herd them someplace where it can destroy us?”

Saying these words out loud has convinced me that they're true. I look to Shannon and Zia to see if they agree with me. Neither responds at first, but then the tactile sensors in my right arm detect a slight increase in pressure. Shannon grips my elbow joint with one of her glittering hands.

“You're right, Adam. It could be a trap. But we still have to follow them. It's our duty.”

I don't like what she's saying, but strangely enough, I start to calm down. The thing that calms me is her touch, her gentle grip on my arm. Even when we were boyfriend and girlfriend, Shannon rarely touched my Quarter-bot. And that's probably the thing I've missed most since I became a Pioneer—the simple pleasure of physical contact, the reassuring touch.

“Okay.” The voice coming out of my speakers is quiet now. “Let's do it.”

We start running east, following the Snake-bots.

• • •

The tentacles move fast despite their size. The blue one slithers furiously down Forty-Sixth Street, maintaining a speed of thirty miles per hour even though it's mashing all the vehicles in its path and mowing down all the trees and lampposts on the sidewalks.

Fortunately, the Pioneers can run faster. We race down the street, leaping over the flattened taxis and vans and police cars. Shannon's running a couple of yards to my left, and Zia and DeShawn are to my right.

By the time we reach Ninth Avenue, we're less than a hundred feet behind the Snake-bot's tail, which is fifty feet wide and shaped like a pencil eraser. There's no one between us and the tentacle—all the people on the street have either fled or been crushed. Shannon raises her right arm, aiming her laser. “
Fire at will, Pioneers
!
”

We all fire at once, using gyroscopic sensors to steady our arms while we run. Eleven yellow beams streak down the middle of the street and explode against the Snake-bot's blunt tail. The armor glows red where the gamma rays strike it, and as we sweep the beams to the left and right, they melt the thick layer of steel. Molten metal pours from the Snake-bot and splashes on the asphalt, leaving a boiling-hot trail. As I stare at the charred tentacle, I feel that glorious sense of power again.
I'm invincible! I can do anything!

But the Snake-bot doesn't slow down. Our lasers burn through the armor at its tail, but there's another layer of steel behind it. Our beams burn through this layer too, and more molten steel spills onto the street, but that just exposes yet another sheet of armor. The Snake-bot's tail is an enormous chunk of layered steel, probably dozens of feet thick.

I cease firing. “This isn't working!”

The others turn off their lasers too. Now we're running on a trail of molten steel that's hot enough to soften our footpads. DeShawn points at the tentacle and cocks his Einstein-bot's head. “Interesting. It's ablative armor. It can shield the Snake-bot against any attack from behind.”

The solution seems obvious. “Well, we just have to target the middle of the tentacle!” I shout. “The armor's thinner there!”

Zia bounds ahead of the rest of us. “I've got this. Just watch me.”

Taking huge strides, she accelerates to sixty miles per hour. It looks like she's going to run headlong into the Snake-bot, but when she's twenty feet behind the tentacle, she flexes her War-bot's legs and takes a flying leap. Although Zia weighs at least half a ton, she manages to jump twenty feet above the asphalt. She slams right into the center of the Snake-bot's tail and hangs on to it by grasping the edge of a blackened plate of armor. After a moment, she reaches for another handhold and pulls her War-bot higher.

Within seconds Zia climbs to the top of the tentacle. While I watch in awe, she runs a hundred feet along the Snake-bot's back until she reaches the midsection. Then she points her lasers downward, aiming at the thinner armor there.

But before she can fire, the Snake-bot does a vicious twist, turning its body counterclockwise. The maneuver flings Zia off the tentacle's back. Her War-bot hurtles toward a building on the north side of the street and crashes against the bricks on the third floor. Then the Snake-bot glides past, and I see Zia lying on the sidewalk in front of the building.

Shannon yells, “No!” and rushes toward her. DeShawn and I follow right behind, but just as we reach the fallen War-bot, Zia gets back on her footpads, using her arms to lever herself upright. Shannon looks her up and down, swiveling her Diamond Girl's cameras. “Are you—”

“I'm not damaged.” Zia's voice is a synthesized growl. “And that's all I want to say about it.”

“Okay. Time for a change of plans.” Shannon turns to DeShawn and points at his quadcopter, still hovering a few hundred feet above us. “Can you attack the tentacle with your Swarm-bot?”

He gazes down the street at the Snake-bot, which has passed Eighth Avenue and is now approaching Seventh. “Nah, that wouldn't work either. If I latch my modules to its back, it'll just twist again or roll over. The weight of the tentacle will crush the cubes.”

“Well, we have no choice then. We have to let Amber fire her lasers. This street looks pretty deserted, so there won't be too much danger of—”

Uh, ma'am? I think it's too late for that.

Amber's signal comes from the east, about a quarter mile away, and her message sounds ominous. Shannon raises her Diamond Girl's head and aims her cameras at the sky, looking for the Jet-bot. “What do you mean, Amber?”

All three Snake-bots are in Times Square. The yellow one's on the east side of the square, and the silver one's on the west. The blue one's at Forty-Sixth Street and Seventh Avenue, and it's closing off the northern end of the square. I can't target them now.

“Why not? They're clustered in the same area. It sounds like the perfect opportunity to—”

Sorry, ma'am, I forgot to mention that the Snake-bots are surrounding a crowd of people. A really big crowd.

• • •

Thirty seconds later, we climb to the roof of one of the smaller buildings on Times Square, a four-story American Eagle Outfitters store that's dwarfed by the skyscrapers on either side. The roof is lined with billboards that face the square, and we hide behind a sign that pictures a woman in a bikini. We can see the picture because DeShawn has a video camera built into one of his Einstein-bot's fingertips. He pokes the camera around the edge of the billboard and shares the video with the rest of us, so we can observe the Snake-bots.

It's just like Amber said. The three Snake-bots encircle an immense crowd, at least twenty thousand people. The tentacles chased them down the streets of Manhattan and funneled them into Times Square, and now they're corralled like cattle.

As the images from DeShawn's camera stream into my circuits, I get the weird feeling I've seen something like this before. I scroll through my memory files and find a television picture of Times Square on New Year's Eve. I've watched this celebration on TV every year, all the thousands of happy people wearing party hats and kissing each other at the stroke of midnight. Times Square is just as crowded now, but the people definitely aren't happy. They're crying and screaming and trampling each other as they back away from the Snake-bots. There's a narrow no-man's land between the humans and the tentacles, an oval strip that runs around the crowd like a racetrack. In that strip I see hundreds of crushed bodies.

My electronics jitter with rage. I can't say anything out loud—the silver Snake-bot is just below us, stretched along the western edge of Times Square, and I'm sure it's equipped with audio sensors—so I send Shannon a radio message.
We have to do something right now!