AllFreeNovel
Share Us
As he watched, a VTOL drone dropped out of the skies, hovered a moment, then descended and locked itself into a charging station. It was all done without supervision. Monk waited for its lights to go dark, relieved he hadn’t been inadvertently spotted.
Then again, the LCAC was not the target of the drone’s surveillance.
Monk stared over at theTitan X. It was a dimly lit mountain covered in ash. Small shadows buzzed around it, silhouetted against the glow of Science City. He hoped that airborne force kept its attention focused on the yacht.
Knowing he dared not wait any longer, Monk stayed low and headed across the deck. He stuck to shadows, stopping often to surveil his surroundings, then continued on. He kept his rifle pressed to his shoulder, his cheek against its stock.
As he neared the pilothouse, voices carried to him. He edged to the door at the rear, staying below the sightlines of the windows. Crouched and listening, he heard three distinct voices, joking and chattering aimlessly.
Laugh it up, assholes.
One of the side windows had been cracked open. Someone blew a stream of smoke into the air. Monk caught a glimpse of the glowing end of a cigarette.
He shifted to the door and used a pinky to test the latch, ensuring it was unlocked. Everyone was far too confident in these automated systems, too secure that these seas were locked up tight.
Monk decided it was high time to correct them of that assumption.
He braced his legs, firmed his grip on his weapon, and yanked the door open. Three faces spun in his direction. The men froze in momentary surprise. Monk didn’t wait for them to move; he didn’t care they were empty-handed. He fired a trio of short bursts. Three bodies fell to the ground. A lone cigarette flew through the air and struck the steel floor with a scatter of red ash.
Monk stalked inside and ground it out under his bare foot.
He then climbed over the bodies and crossed to the cabin’s far side. The space looked less like a pilothouse and more like a computer clean room. He ignored the helm controls and turned to a spread of monitors off to the side.
The largest screen in the center showed a 3D view of the surrounding ocean, both above and below the waves. Everything was delineated in graphic lines and polygons, forming detailed outlines. TheTitan Xglowed on the screen, perfectly rendered, as if drawn by a meticulous architect. The yacht’s lines and shapes were a bright emerald against the black lines of the surrounding sea.
The shape of a helicopter dock—theDayangxi—was similarly rendered by lines and triangles, only its outline was a dark blue, making it barely discernable from its surroundings.
Monk searched the monitor’s field of view but failed to spot the submarine. Either the attack boat was out of range, or it was able to hide from the radar that rendered these images.
Monk returned his attention to theTitan X. On the screen, smaller dots circled the yacht, both above and below the ocean’s surface. From each of them, small blinking lines connected them to the ship.
Monk understood what he was viewing.
It’s a targeting array.
Whoever had set this up had selected theTitan Xas the primary target. The fleets of autonomous drones were fixed to it. The system was likely in some guardian mode, keeping the yacht trapped by its sensors and threatened by its many weapons.
Monk sought some means to shut it down, but he was clearly locked out.
He grumbled his frustration.
Built into the desktop was a palm reader. It glowed a muted red. Knowing it was probably useless, he dragged each of the dead men forward and pressed their hands against the screen.
Nothing.
He was not surprised. He could guess whose handprint was needed here. He pictured the dead-eyed Captain Tse. The woman did not strike Monk as someone who liked to share. The death of Captain Stemm had made that clear enough.
Frustrated, he considered strafing the control unit with his rifle, but he feared that doing so would immediately turn those guardians into attack dogs. Such a fail-safe was surely built into the command ship. If anyone tried to blow up the LCAC, the deployed forces would mete out immediate revenge.
Instead, Monk held out one hope. It was why he had swum here. He knew pulling the plug on the system was at best a long shot. His fallback position was even more tenuous—and worse, untested.
With a big inhale, he reached and placed his prosthetic hand atop the palm reader.
As soon as he did, the radio by the helm barked out an inquiry in Mandarin. He jerked his arm away, fearing he had triggered the call. But it was only someone checking in on those left aboard the LCAC. Monk knew only a smattering of Mandarin, certainly not enough to impersonate one of the soldiers.
He ignored the call and returned his hand to the reader. As his palm touched the glowing surface, he silently activated the new electronic warfare module built into his prosthesis. The module was equipped with its own brain. Kat had joked that despite its diminutive size, it was far smarter than him—which was probably true.
The unit had not been designed by DARPA. Sigma had its own deep pockets when it came to independent resources. An old friend, Mara Silviera—a Spanish genius when it came to AI—had owed them a favor. In the past, Sigma had helped her battle an evil doppelganger of one of her creations. She, in turn, had agreed to design and program the tiny module in Monk’s hand.
