The Pieces of My Self

63 - Skirmish and Escape

TONY

The Dome, 22 June 2174, Wednesday

Tony bounced uncomfortably in the seat of his AVTOL as it circled the landing zone, buffeted by storm-force winds. The jerky ride wasn't helping his headache.

Despite the bumps, his plan was coming together. He would use Bill Nkumbra's death as an inciting incident. Murdered, I tell you. How many deaths from terrorists do we need before the people act?

Once the mayhem starts, he could divert Mangalotte's attention for a few days while looking for the money. He needed to be focused and nimble.

Locating Lillian was his top priority. The ring was the key to unlocking Knightly's fortune. With it, he could live comfortably anywhere in the world. Mangalotte would surely try to track him down, but he imagined enough wealth to outflank the most powerful dictator.

The automatic controls of his craft reacted to erratic gusts, unsettling his stomach.

Below a haze of driving wind and water, the Dome stood like a giant floating bubble inside a donut, surrounded by dead high-rise buildings and concrete cloverleaves rising and dipping in the water—roads to nowhere.

The assault team had parked their tiltrotor transport atop the executive office building south of the Dome, where it sat like a giant dragonfly at the center of a ring of lights. That left little room for his AVTOL. It would be a dangerous approach. The nav system brought him closer and closer to the target and finally touched down when there was a break in the wind. The craft hit on one skid before settling.

He commanded the AVTOL to power down, buttoned his rain gear, and stepped into a deluge. A major in fatigues and a camo poncho met him on the pad and snapped a salute while holding his hood with the other hand, fighting the wind. "We have them located," the soldier said, shouting to be heard above the wind. "We think they entered through the warehouse dock on the west end. It will all be over soon."

"Don't kill them!" Tony yelled. "They have valuable information. I need to see the girl before anyone else."

"But the President—"

"He doesn't know what I know. I take full responsibility. The president will thank you for it. Capture them, but don't harm them—the girl, her children, the old man. Give them to me to interrogate. You can do what you like with the robot."

The major's face screwed into a conflicted grimace. He paused for a moment, then tapped his wrist. "Bigalow, this is Alpha Dog, do you read?"

There was no response. He tried again.

"I get nothing. It could be the weather or the building's RF shield. We'd better go inside."

They moved through the entrance hatch, then down a stairwell to the bridge level.

The major raced through the covered skyway from the Executive Building, Tony Brown in trail. "God, I hope we're not too late."

They entered the Dome's assembly area and heard the whiz of pneumatic volleys.

The major made the tactical call again. "Bigalow, Alpha Dog. Stand down."

On the radio: We are under attack. The Sentinels have turned. We've launched the robees and are about to—

Tony heard the beat of guided weapons fire. Bam! Bam! Bam!

He raced with the major to the Dome's central core, stopping his forward motion as he stepped onto concrete stairs. He nearly tumbled to the promenade deck, riveting his attention on a life-and-death struggle on the cross bridge. Soldiers on three ends of the "X" coordinated their fire toward the center. Sentinels had fallen in two heaps near the northeast bridgehead. The last robot standing held a body, hair draped from its arms, abdomen punctured and leaking blood.

Tony could see Lillian's lips moving, with her head drawn close to Usher's. Then the robot looked up at a mechanical insect buzzing overhead. With the body in its arms, it leaped over the railing.

The robee's laser flared, followed shortly by the sound of a tracking rifle.

Bam! Bam! Bam!

Tony heard the splash as Usher hit the water.