Something about Cho's conversation with the mystery woman bothered Sonny. As soon as she'd finished talking, as soon as she'd told Cho she was on her way, that peculiar static had returned. Something wasn't right.
He turned back and looked toward Funeral Mountain, towering tall and proud among the Wah Wah chain. He was only about two miles northwest of Cho's position. If that woman's twenty-minute estimate was right, she'd reach him before Sonny could get close. But she was coming to rescue the man — Sonny wondered why his nagging intuition told him Cho was in danger.
Sonny sighed and started north, toward Kiln Spring.
Connell half-crouched, half-sprinted down the low-ceilinged tunnel, hands gripping his H&K. He came into the fork slightly ahead of Veronica, Sanji, and Mack. Lybrand and O'Doyle had their guns trained on the silverbug. It hung from the ceiling, seemingly frozen; only a wedge-shaped chunk moved, swinging in Connell's direction when he entered the fork. Connell stood there, motionless, staring at the thing that appeared to be staring right back at him. He thought it looked more like modern art than a machine or a bug.
Veronica and Sanji rushed into the fork. Their sudden presence appeared to spook the silverbug. It moved slightly with a jerky, twitching motion, as if preparing to defend itself. Mack came in just behind the professors — apparently he made one too many people for the silverbug's tastes.
Without warning, the silverbug dropped from the ceiling, or maybe jumped, because it was on the ground in the blink of an eye. It landed on its feet; Connell wasn't sure if it had flipped over or merely reversed its legs. It hit the ground and scurried off in a silvery blur of rapid motion, disappearing into the dark tunnel.
They stood quietly for several seconds, not knowing what to think, not knowing what to say. On a collective level, they all knew their situation had suddenly changed, although they didn't know exactly what that meant.
Veronica broke the silence. “What the hell was that thing?” No one answered. “I mean, it looked like a little machine, but the way it ran."
Their ears filled with the still, impossible silence of the caves. No one moved, save for darting glances into every dark area, every nook and cranny. Everyone was on the lookout for a flash of silver.
Connell spoke softly. “First of all, has anyone ever seen anything like that before? Anywhere except for the movies?"
"I've seen some of the unmanned NASA explorer technology,” Mack said. “It was at a conference on the future of mining. The explorers were similar insect-looking machines, only much bigger. They're designed for unmanned exploration of Mars's mountains, but they don't move like that. The state-of-the-art isn't much faster than a turtle, and when it walks it looks like a machine.” Mack didn't have to explain the analogy. The silverbug moved like an animal, like it was alive.
"I once enjoyed the opportunity to visit MIT's robot lab,” Sanji said. “As far as I know, they have the cutting edge of robot science. I saw Ghengis IV and their other smart robots. Some of them looked like insects, too, but they do not move like what we just saw. Their best robot, named Cassiopeia IX, I think, was built last year. It takes over a minute just to cross a room, and that is probably the most advanced autonomous robot on the planet."
"How fast would you estimate that thing moved, O'Doyle?” Connell asked, wishing Angus was there. Angus could instantly make sense of the marvel they'd just witnessed.
"Best guess would be twenty to twenty-five miles an hour, Mr. Kirkland,” O'Doyle said. “It really hauled ass, and it hit that speed almost immediately."
Connell looked at Mack. “Why were there Mars explorer robots at a mining conference?"
"Well, they figured someday we could use robots to mine the deep areas of the Earth, where it's too dangerous for people to go. But it would take very advanced machines. They would have to drill blasting holes, navigate the tunnels, haul out rock, all the things men do now."
"But there was nothing there comparable to what we just saw?"
"No way, mate. Not even close. That's like comparing a stone wheel to a Ferrari."
"Okay, fine, they're revolutionary,” Veronica said. “I think we've established that point. So who built the thing? Why is it down here and what are we going to do about it?"
Connell didn't have an answer. The same questions raged through his mind. “We have to be on the lookout for them,” he said. “O'Doyle thinks there's a lot of them around. We have to assume they're down here for a purpose. Someone had to put those things here."
"It's got to be the same people that took out Jansson and sabotaged the elevator,” Lybrand said. “So we'd better assume they're very dangerous."
"There's something else,” O'Doyle said, his eyes flitting across every inch of the cavern. “That thing was looking at each of us. The Japs put cameras on cockroaches, for crying out loud. We know the silverbug saw us. So we have to assume that its owners did, too. Whoever the saboteurs are, they might know we're down here."
Connell nodded. “You're right,” he said. “Let's grab the equipment and get going.” He looked across his party. They were exhausted, but no one complained about his decision.
They all wanted to move out, and move out fast.
With Meredith Brooks’ song “Bitch” blaring from the stereo, Kayla's black Land Rover — doing 110 miles per hour — caught big air as it sailed over a small hill, kicking up a cloud of dust both on takeoff and on impact. The landing jostled her in her seat, but she barely noticed, for when she cleared the hill she finally set eyes on that piece of shit Cho Takachi.
He sat there, devil-may-care, as if he were sunning himself on the side of the road. Her Steyr GB-80, fixed with a silencer, pressed gently into the small of her back, reassuring her with its solid presence. Instinctively, she reached a hand under the seat, double-checking the position of her Galil ARM automatic. This was the wide-open desert, after all, and a girl could never be too careful.
She slowed quickly, bringing the Rover to a coasting halt in front of Cho. She hopped out as Cho shambled slowly to his feet. He looked like shit. Like something you'd scrape off a shoe. His face looked as if it had been boiled, so cooked-lobster orange it must have hurt to blink. A dirty, blood-soaked bandage clung to his shoulder. Kayla relaxed; even if she hadn't reached Cho, he obviously wouldn't have made it much farther. She noted the pearl-handled .45 stuffed into his shoulder holster: she'd have to make this quick.
"Hey there,” Kayla said in a friendly tone. “You don't look so good."
"I feel like hell,” Cho said with a painful smile. “I sure am glad to see you."
Kayla slipped his arm over her shoulder and helped him toward the passenger door. She looked all around, searching for any sign of humanity. No cars, no people, no nothing.
"Hold on while I open the door,” Kayla said.
Cho leaned against the side of the Land Rover, smiling even while he winced in pain.
"You gave me quite a scare,” Kayla said.
"Why's that?"
Kayla took a step back and pulled out her Steyr. “Because I thought you were going to blow it for me, you piece of shit."
Cho instantly reached for his gun, but he was too slow.