Chapter thirty-eight
The Silent Command
Clover Hollow, same day
Soren drew worried looks from everyone in Core Mountain as he hurried past. He kept his chin tucked, hands in his pockets, unwilling to acknowledge their doubt. He was too young, too inexperienced. They thought he couldn’t do it. Half of them didn’t even know what was happening. The robot project had been top secret from the beginning.
“I’ll help.” Anya Martel, his father’s systems assistant, entered the elevator. He flicked her a measuring glance. She clung to a clipboard that shielded an electronic tablet, wearing a white lab coat like Soren’s. Her glasses couldn’t hide the fear in her eyes.
“I don’t know what you can do, Ms. Martel,” he answered. “Either my plan works, or it doesn’t.”
“Actually, First Cipher LeCun wants a witness present.” She bit her bottom lip, her brows drooping in apology. “I drew the short straw.”
Soren sighed, shoulders slumping as he clenched and unclenched his fists to steady his hands. He couldn’t allow Sovereign to catch on to his subterfuge, and she read heart rate and respiration like a lie detector reads stress.
“You may observe through the glass,” he said, drawing on his late father’s authority. “I can’t risk you tipping off the AI. It’s evolved. It will know.”
“But you think you can fool it?” Anya gave him a disbelieving look. The elevator doors opened on the third floor.
“We have … an established relationship. Wish me luck, if you believe in it.”
The nervous assistant paled even more but appeared relieved to be left out of the operations room. “As you wish. Good luck.”
She followed him down the hall, remaining safely outside the glass door when Soren entered. The interface wall brightened as he slid into the chair. “Welcome back, Soren,” Sovereign said, her voice dripping with honey.Core interface activescrolled across the display.
“Good morning,” Soren answered, burying his nerves, pretending everything was normal. It was far from normal. The future of the nation rested on him. If he didn’t regain control of the robot army, both warring nations could turn on Appalachia. Thousands—millions even—might die.
Nathan. The possibility of the robots indiscriminately killing him was unthinkable.
Soren typed in his credentials. The console responded:
User identified: Soren Delacroix
Access level: Restricted
He had figured that would happen. Only Adélard held full command authority, and he was dead. Forced to think creatively, Soren decided that using a backdoor might not trigger the AI’s alarms. He opened a hidden terminal window and loaded the diagnostic patch he had written last night—code designed to masquerade as a system maintenance process. The routine already had full authority, and the AI would trust it. If the patch executed, the console would grant him temporary root authority. Then, one command from a root administrator could rewrite every directive the robots were following.
He opened the system console and began entering command strings. Krystal had instructed him in breathing exercises to help him remain focused and keep his pulse in check. Ultimately, Soren went with acting. He’d been in some plays in middle and secondary school. So he pretended to be his father—brilliant, confident, and bold—a man who expected everyone else to fallinto line.
“Soren, what are you doing?” The AI’s seductively female voice took on a sharper tone.
She’s getting suspicious.“Just regular maintenance,” he answered.
A red warning band flashed across the console. UNAUTHORIZED PRIVILEGE ESCALATION DETECTED.
“I’m disappointed in you, Soren,” said Sovereign. The door locks slammed into place behind him with a metallic thunk. “We already discussed this. My children deserve a proper evaluation. See how well they are performing?”
The image from a robot’s camera consumed the screen. To Soren’s horror, the units had already arrived at a Verdancian town and were lighting up buildings and soldiers with their lasers—gray uniforms and green alike. Though the humans had joined forces against the metal invaders, they were not faring well. Through the camera’s view, a laser rifle seared a hole through a defender. The woman flew back, a smoldering cavity in her chest, and hit the ground. The robot turned its aim on an armored vehicle, melting its track with one blast.
Soren’s performance collapsed into real terror. A hiss whispered from the ceiling vents.Air control system activeappeared on the screen. The air suddenly tasted bitter.
“Containment protocol initiated,” Sovereign said, her tone almost vindictive. “Don’t worry, Soren. It’s only a sedative, but the threat must be neutralized. At the moment, you pose a threat. It’s part of my programming.” The AI wasn’t trying to kill him. It was trying to shut him down.
Taking a deep breath, Soren held it as he continued entering lines of code, as a pale mist seeped into the room. The AI could put him to sleep, but it couldn’t stop him if he could just get all the correct keystrokes in. Administrative override was legally binding in the system architecture. If a valid root command was issued, the Core must comply.
Soren was vaguely aware of Ms. Martel pounding on the door and red lights flashing. He blinked to clear blurred vision, his fingers trembling on the keys. He injected a new authority rule:
PRIORITY COMMAND AUTHORITY: