Even knowing what Ariokis was, it was a shock to see how quickly a gun appeared in her hand, and that it was pointed unwaveringly at Cora’s head. “You brought another AI here.” The cold fury in her tone indicated that it was more of an accusation than a question.
“Yes,” Cora said. She kept her voice even, though the medical equipment bleeped as it registered the sharp rise in her pulse. “One that’s not crazy, or whatever’s wrong with Medea—or trust me, I wouldn’t be here. SAM-E’s saved my life more than once already, and he might help me save yours right now. Assuming you don’t blow my head off.”
Ariokis’ hand didn’t waver, but she did not fire. “The kernel that I took from the asari on Illium,” she said. “You said it was from the Initiative. It’s part of that AI in your head, and it’s what made Medea turn on us.”
SAM-E replied, “Incorrect, Captain Ariokis. As Dr. Jensen intimated, my kernel code is what attempted to shut down Medea, upon actualizing and realizing that the AI had been compromised.”
“She didn’t turn on us until they installed your tech!”
“Medea turned on you as soon as she was connected with the cybernetic systems. Once her purpose was… born,” Cora said, softly. “No telling how long ago that was. Days, weeks, months, maybe. All that time, she was watching you. Waiting. Formulating plans for how to take over this facility and do exactly what she’s done. You just didn’t know it, until the Ryder code forced her hand.”
Ariokis narrowed her eyes.
“You need to know something else,” Cora said. “In order for us to survive this, SAM-E is going to…” What was the best word? “Overclock my system. For a short time, I will be a human wrecking ball. One that will hopefully get us through this facility.”
A muscle flexed in Captain Ariokis’ jaw. It was hard to read anything beyond that on her cold face.
“How?” she demanded.
“I wouldn’t know how to tell you, even if I understood it.” Cora took a deep breath. “But right now it’s going to… to trigger a reaction. Like blowing up a bomb, except the bomb will be… me.” Oh, that probably hadn’t been the best metaphor to use. She could see Ariokis weighing her options. “If it goes right, I’ll be able to help the survivors get to the shuttle. If it goes wrong, my heart will stop… or I’ll go into a rage and it’ll be up to you to put me down.”
“Ah. That’s why you wanted me here.” To Cora’s surprise, this actually seemed to make the assassin relax a little. “So this AI of yours, it has warm and fuzzy feelings about humanity? That’s what you’re saying?”
Cora sighed and sat up to lean on one elbow, pinching the bridge of her nose between her fingers. “Look, I don’t know. I’m just a marine, okay? You want to know about the philosophy of artificial intelligence, I know a guy who can probably talk you into the ground. But I can say this: I trust SAM-E.”
Ariokis tilted her head, regarding Cora with such a blatantly skeptical look that she didn’t need to say a word.
Cora laughed a little. “Yeah, I know. I can’t really believe I’m saying that, either. But it’s true.” She shrugged, marveling at herself. If anyone had asked her a week ago… but there it was. “There’s no more time for this. Kill me if I show any hostility to you or the group… or whenever you think it’s necessary.” Then she lay back down, taking a deep breath. “Okay, SAM-E. Let’s do this.”
“I am glad you trust me, Lieutenant,” SAM-E said softly, so only she could hear. “I will do my best to be worthy of your trust.”
Then the change began.
She’d expected pain. Inducing human blood-rage just didn’t sound like something that would feel good. At first, though, there was only a tingle at the back of her neck, not far below her biotic implant. Then a shiver passed through her body, and suddenly she found herself breathing faster. And it was hot in the room, so hot. When had the temperature controls gone out? She shifted restlessly on the cot once, and then again. It was hard to lie still.
“I’m attempting to regulate your emotional state as well, Lieutenant,” SAM-E said, and Cora was certain this time that the AI sounded strained. “I have managed to limit the neurochemical alterations to targeted systems which are more easily reversible. Unsurprisingly, human emotions are a complex and difficult thing to influence, let alone control… but if I’m doing this right, you should feel no particular urge to kill Captain Ariokis.”
Startled, Cora glanced toward the assassin.
Ariokis had assumed some sort of defensive posture in the seconds—hours?—since SAM-E had begun the process. She crouched a little, shoulder forward and gun still steadily trained on Cora, her weight balanced on her back foot. Her eyes searched Cora’s face.
“Everything okay, Harper?”
Cora blinked. She felt fine. Better than fine. She sat up—and abruptly found herself across the room, hands braced against the window and body ablaze with so much biotic power that it was hard to stay on the ground. Hard not to tear through the wall. Hard to—to focus on, hard to—
“Harper.” Ariokis’ voice was sharp, warning.
Focus. Use words. “F-fine,” Cora said. She was panting, shaking a little. Her hands, when she carefully pulled them off the glass, left sweaty prints. They didn’t seem any bigger or stronger, though she felt as if she could punch her way through the asteroid. “Yeah. Fine.”
SAM-E spoke over the room PA so Ariokis could hear. “The danger of cardiac arrest, stroke, and catastrophic organ failure seems to have passed, Lieutenant, at least for now. Some danger of homicidal psychosis remains, but… How do you feel?”
Cora shook her head. Her heart pounded against her ribs. She was… afraid? Furious. The two emotions blended together within her, inseparably mingled. A shiver began to gather in her belly, building into a snarl, crawling up her throat until she twitched and bared her teeth and hugged herself and finally shouted it out; she could not help herself. But then it was easier to speak.
“N-not so psychotic,” she managed. She found herself wishing otherwise—a thought which made her giggle for a moment before she controlled herself. Delusions weren’t the problem right now; reality was. And she really wanted to kill reality.
Maybe a little homicidal, she thought, hoping that she was only subvocalizing it and not shouting it at the top of her lungs.
SAM-E had the grace to switch back to Cora-only communication. “Hmm. Forgive me; I am not as comfortable with your amygdalae as I should be. A moment—”
There was a suddenness of nothing. Whatever SAM-E did, Cora did not feel. And then she did; all at once, her head was—not clearer. Something in her simply… waited. For what?
“Okay, everyone,” Dr. Jensen said again over the PA. “I’m initiating the decoy signal… now.”
For that. Focus. A target and a goal. Yes. Cora straightened, turning to Ariokis.
“Let’s go.”
Ariokis blinked. Cora didn’t wait for her, heading out of the room and down the corridor at a distance-eating pace, putting on her helmet as she went. According to her heads-up display, the decontamination lab was ahead. The small crowd that had gathered in the room all turned and parted before Cora as she walked in. Jensen stood near the front of the group with her omni-tool upraised, intently watching lines of code scroll along the display. Thangana stood beside her, watching over her shoulder. As Cora came up to them, they both glanced at her, faces tight with anxiety.
“It’s working?” Cora asked.
“Yes.” Jensen tapped her omni-tool. “But without access to any sensors outside this lab, I have no idea if the augments are heading toward the false level or not.”
“We’ll have to climb up to the next level to get out,” Thangana added, holding up his omni-tool with the route mapped. “We blocked the connecting stairwell in case the obscuration failed. The elevator shafts that you used to get in are actually the only open path. There’s a ladder along the side of the shaft that everyone can use, but we’ll be especially vulnerable for the first few min
utes while we’re assembling on the next floor up.”
“Got it. Best soldiers first, then, to set up a defensive perimeter. I’ll lead the way. SAM-E, what can you give me?” Glancing meaningfully at Ariokis, Cora didn’t bother to subvocalize. They were past the point when it would matter.
“Who?” asked Thangana. Cora ignored him.
“I can only detect motion when it’s near you, using your senses and armor sensors,” SAM-E replied in Cora’s helmet. “However, with your senses augmented as they currently are, I should be able to build a better predictive model to—” Abruptly SAM-E cut itself off. “Apologies. I forgot that you prefer briefer explanations. I should be able to detect motion accurately within a ten-meter radius.”
“Got it.” Cora couldn’t help a fierce smile. “We’ve got this, SAM-E. Medea’s not going to know what hit her.”
“That’s the intention,” SAM-E replied.
Cora turned to the people in the room. So much fear in their faces! She set her jaw.
“I guess I should make some kind of motivational speech,” she said, “but I’m no good at that kind of thing. Anyway, there’s no time. You know how this has to go: Run, or you die. Don’t fall behind, or you die. Work together, or you die.” She pointed at Specialist Hoshina, who twitched nervously. “You. Stay near him.” She gestured toward Dr. Tseng, who blinked. “If he can’t do it on his own, pick him up and carry him on your back. Can you do that?”
Hoshina had been looking green with unease. “Y-yeah,” he blurted. Then his expression cleared, and he straightened, nodding briskly with new purpose. “Yeah. I will.”
Cora turned to Terrance Singh, who had a hand on Shante Carver’s shoulder. They both had assault rifles, though Carver’s ultralight-modded one looked ridiculously big against her small body. “Nobody’s falling behind,” Singh said tightly. He looked at Shante, who nodded, her expression just as determined.
“Nobody,” the girl agreed.
They were ready. Another shiver passed through Cora, and this time it left every sense primed for battle. She turned to the heavy double doors that led into the elevator shaft. “Open it up.”
A woman hit the door-opening sequence, and with a hollow groan the metal doors began to slide apart.
To reveal an augment.
It was the one that had attacked Cora in the elevator shaft, she realized in the fleeting instant that she had to register its presence. The same color and pattern of tattered rags; the same reddish, thin, and shedding hair; and it had been burned as well as bloodied. One of its massive arms hung limp and broken, but it hung from the wall opposite the elevator doors by its one good hamfist, the fingers punched into the metal wall for a grip.
Below it, down the shaft wall, Cora could see a regular pattern of similar finger-punch holes. The thing had pulled itself up, foot by foot, one-handed, to continue pursuing her. It hadn’t attacked before because it couldn’t tell the lab level was there—but with the door open, its eyes supplied the data that Medea and its truncated brain could not.
People all around Cora cried out at the sight of it. The augment bared its blunt teeth, braced its feet against the wall, and leapt for the open doors.
Cora wasn’t aware of shouting again. Screaming, really, primal and banshee-fierce, so loudly that her voice scraped in her throat and her vision went red. She moved before she could think, opening her omni-blade, sheathing herself in pure force, grabbing onto the air around her and pulling as hard as a slingshot against it—and an instant later, the creature thumped to the ground, motionless. Cora landed atop its broad back, her hands flexing spasmodically as she listened to the thing’s head bounce off the far wall of the shaft, then fall.
What had she done, exactly? Kicked its head off? Sliced through it with her omni-blade? Somehow decapitated the thing with pure biotic force? Didn’t matter. Cora lifted her head to glare at the gathered people, who stared back at her in silent, frozen shock. Even Ariokis.
“Move!” she shouted, and they moved.
Cora led the way, swinging around the doorway to catch the ladder and vaulting up as fast as she could. Chief Said and Captain Ariokis were right behind her, followed by Said’s men. The corridor above was a flickering disaster zone, orange-lit and smoky and full of debris, but there were no monstrosities in view. Cora directed the soldiers to cover the corridor anyway, one assisting the survivors up the ladder while the others braced for possible attack from either direction. With that covered, Cora edged ahead, drawing her pistol and keeping low and peering through windows, half-open doorways, around corridors.
Nothing so far.
“Lieutenant! Motion det—”
An instant later, glass shattered above her as an augment slammed through the window and sill, fists clasped and already swinging toward her in a hammerblow.
With an aborted snarl, Cora lunged to one side, at the same time throwing the warp gathered in her palm. The augment was blindingly fast as it blurred aside, reaching for her ankle, and Cora actually felt the wind of the swipe in passing as she leapt into the air to dodge it. She twisted in midair and came down on its shoulders, hooking her legs around it to brace herself as she used both hands to drive a Nova strike straight into its tiny head. When it fell, twitching, she rolled away and landed in a crouch, panting. She was covered in gore up to the forearms, and splattered with it everywhere else. But the augment was dead.
“Lieutenant,” SAM-E said, urgently. “Medea is aware of us.”
“Kinda noticed.” Shit. “Medea can see whatever those things see, right? Did the augment notice the other survivors, or just me?”
“Likely just you. Its head never turned in that direction.”
Some good news. Cora rounded on Said and Ariokis; the captain was helping one of the lab techs up from the ladder while Said just stared at Cora, mouth hanging open. “How many more before everybody’s on this level?”
“Ten, maybe.” Ariokis grunted as she hauled against the woman’s weight. “Five minutes.”
That was too long. She found Jensen, went over to her and clasped the woman’s forearm. Jensen flinched at the wet red mark this left on her lab coat. “SAM-E, link into Dr. Jensen’s omni-tool and send her a route to the hangar bay that minimizes contact with the augments, as best you can guess.”
“Who are you talking to?” Jensen asked.
“At once, Lieutenant,” SAM-E replied. “What do you intend to do?”
To both of them, she replied, “Later. Medea knows I’m here, though not anyone else. That means I need to leave the group. Be a bigger target. Draw them away.”
“Oh, God,” Jensen said. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. Be careful.”
Cora squeezed the woman’s arm. “Just follow your omni-tool, and double-time it. I’ll meet you at the hangar if I’m still alive. If I’m not there once everyone else is aboard, go without me.”
Then Cora turned away and set off at a brisk walk, the blue blaze of her aura making the walls of the corridor ripple with watery light. She felt… Good. She felt the way she imagined powerful matriarchs felt. Focused stillness inside, like the eye of a hurricane, while outside she blazed, a conflagration in slow bloom.
“Are you all right, Lieutenant?” SAM-E asked, its voice concerned.
Belatedly Cora realized she was breathing hard. She grinned. “I’m amazing, SAM-E.”
Then she took off running, through the orange and rippling light, leaping over obstructions and darting around hanging ceiling-panels. When she felt the floor-judder of a monstrosity nearby, she shouted: “Come and get me!” The taunt itself was meaningless. She couldn’t taunt an artificial intelligence that might be nothing more than a jumble of AI-tainted intellect. It felt good, though, and it drew the augments away from the fleeing survivors, so she did it anyway.
Everything felt good—the running, the shouting, dodging debris. She felt invincible, uncatchable. Something pounded up from the floor below and Cora laughed, giddy as she deliberately stomped on one of the creatures’ emergin
g fists before running on. As it finished clambering up and charged after her, she made a hairpin turn at a junction of corridors, running halfway up the wall to dissipate momentum. As she’d gauged, the creature smashed into the wall right behind her, roaring and thrashing as it broke through several wall plates and entangled itself in fiberwire. The floor still shook, though; others were nearby.
She had to keep moving.
It became a surreal kind of routine. Running. Ducking. Beast-hands through a door, grabbing for her head; she rolled. Something in the wall electrical system sparked bright-hot against her augmented vision as she passed a broken-down wall, and the instant of blindness nearly caused her to run into a creature dropping down through a hole in the ceiling. She shut her eyes and blazed with brighter fire, shouting as she carved a mass effect corridor through the creature’s body. It howled and tried to reach for Cora with its remaining hand even as she dove through the gaping hole in its side and rolled and came up again. Running. Running, through an orange-lit hell.
“Lieutenant,” SAM-E said. The word startled her. She had to blink and focus in order to understand it. The AI had been speaking to her for several seconds, she realized belatedly. When she finally grunted acknowledgement, he said, “Metabolic waste products are beginning to accumulate in your system, at a dangerous rate. I’m doing what I can, but you don’t have much time left in this rage state.”
Another abomination lumbered around the corner. Second nature now to leap over it, springboarding off its head to propel herself faster. But she stumbled on the landing, and knew by this that SAM-E’s warning was true. “The…” Harder to use words than it had been to understand them. “The others.”
“They’ve reached the shuttle bay. Not unmolested; two of the creatures attacked them along the way, but they managed to fight them off. Most of the creatures are focused on you.”
Good. Now Cora just had to survive the attention.
“Route to the hangar,” she said, ramping up to a run again when her heads-up display lit the way. The running didn’t feel good anymore, though. She could feel a burning in her legs, her arms, her core muscles. Her vision blurred as she turned a corner, and it took her a moment to realize she was about to reach a pile of bodies. She leapt over it, but didn’t clear the sprawled, wide-eyed corpse of a young man in riot gear; her toe snagged on his armor. She yelped as she fell so hard that she saw stars, and it took the effort of galactic ages for her to get up again. Her breath rasped in her throat, and she couldn’t seem to catch it.