The silence in the canyon was oppressive.
The electric engine of the War Rig ticked as it cooled, the only sound in the suffocating darkness. The towering stone walls blocked out the stars, leaving them in a pitch-black chute.
"Battery overheat," Hughes whispered, staring at the dead dashboard. "Safety lockout engaged. We're dead in the water for ten minutes."
"We don't have ten minutes," Jason said.
He looked at Amelia Earhart in the back seat.
She was convulsing.
The wires running into her spine sparked against the metal frame of the truck. Her skin was gray, slick with a mixture of sweat and hydraulic fluid.
"She's seizing," Hemingway said, checking her pulse. His hand came away wet. "Her blood is boiling, Jason. The bio-coolant pump failed when we disconnected her from the bomber."
"Fix it," Jason ordered.
Hughes scrambled into the back. He ripped a panel off the truck's AC unit.
"I can reroute the freon line," Hughes stammered, his hands shaking. "It's crude. It might stop her heart. But it will cool the processor."
"Do it," Jason said.
Hughes jammed a rubber hose into the port on Amelia's flight suit. He duct-taped it sealed.
Hiss.
Cold gas flooded her system.
Amelia gasped. Her back arched off the seat. Her avionics goggles whirred, lenses spinning as they refocused.
She slumped back, shivering.
"Stable," Hughes breathed. "For now."
Amelia's head turned. The mechanical lenses locked onto Jason.
"Ezra..." she whispered. Her voice was a glitch, skipping between human fear and digital code. "He... he is the machine."
"I know," Jason said, taking her cold hand. "We heard him."
"No," Amelia gripped his wrist. Her strength was terrifying, enhanced by servos. "You don't understand. The Barons didn't just find his body. They found his Black Box."
"His neural imprint," Hughes realized. "Like a flight recorder for the brain."
"They uploaded him," Amelia said. "Into the Sawmill's core. To optimize the reactor. He isn't driving the fortress, Jason. He is the fortress. The walls are his skin. The sensors are his eyes."
Jason felt a chill go down his spine.
His father wasn't dead. He was a building. A building that ate the world.
KZZZT.
The truck's radio crackled to life.
Jason stared at the display. The power was off. The radio shouldn't be working.
"Jason," the voice said.
It was warm. Fatherly. Disappointed.
"You run just like your mother did," Ezra Prentice said through the static. "Always away from the problem. Never toward the solution."
Jason grabbed the mic. He didn't hesitate.
"I'm running from a monster, Dad," Jason said. "Not a solution."
Ezra laughed. It sounded like grinding gears deep in the earth.
"A monster?" Ezra sighed. "I brought order to the chaos, son. The Barons were savages. They burned the forests for warmth. I taught them efficiency. I gave them a blueprint."
"You gave them a slaughterhouse," Jason snapped. "You're turning people into batteries. You turned Amelia into a guidance chip!"
"Everyone has a function," Ezra said calmly. "In my world, no one starves. No one freezes. The machine provides. What did you do in Detroit, Jason?"
The radio hissed.
"I saw the satellite logs," Ezra continued. "You put guns in the hands of hungry men. You created a militia. Is that better? At least my workers don't feel pain. At least they have a purpose."
"My workers have a choice," Jason said. "Yours are slaves."
"Freedom is inefficient," Ezra said. "Look around you, son. The world is broken. Democracy failed. Capitalism failed. The only thing left is The Process."
"I'm not part of your process," Jason said.
"You are," Ezra said. "You just don't know your role yet."
A low sound began to echo from the canyon walls.
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.
It sounded like a thousand angry hornets trapped in a jar.
Jason looked up.
Small holes were appearing in the rock face above them. Dust trickled down.
"Termites," Hemingway racked his shotgun. "Drilling drones."
"He didn't stop at the entrance," Jason realized. "He's coming through the walls."
"Bring me the pilot," Ezra's voice hardened. "She has the launch codes for the reactor. I need them to complete the integration. Bring her to me, and I will let your friends leave."
"And if I don't?" Jason asked.
"Then I bring the mountain down on you," Ezra said. "Physics doesn't negotiate."
Jason looked at Amelia. She was shaking, terrified.
"Don't let him take me," she whispered. "Please. I can't go back in the dark."
Jason looked at Hughes. At O'Malley. At Hemingway.
They were tired. Beat up. Out of ammo.
But they weren't broken.
Jason grabbed the mic.
"Come and get her, Dad," Jason said.
He smashed the radio with the butt of his rifle.
CRUNCH.
The voice cut out.
"Howard!" Jason yelled. "Status!"
"Battery at 40%!" Hughes shouted. "Cooling cycle incomplete! If we move, we risk a meltdown!"
"Risk it!" Jason ordered. "We're not running anymore. We're hunting."
He looked at the map on the dashboard.
The canyon opened up three miles ahead. Into the Badlands.
"Punch it," Jason said.
Hughes slammed the truck into gear.
The War Rig lurched forward. The tires screamed against the stone.
Above them, the buzzing got louder.
The first Termite drone fell from the ceiling. It landed on the hood.
It looked like a mechanical beetle with a diamond drill bit for a mouth. It started boring into the metal.
SCREEE.
"Get it off!" O'Malley leaned out the window and smashed it with his rifle butt.
It crunched, spewing black oil.
But more were falling. Dozens. Hundreds. A rain of mechanical insects.
"Drive!" Jason screamed.
The War Rig roared down the canyon, dodging falling rocks and drilling drones.
They burst out into the moonlight.
The Badlands stretched before them.
And waiting for them, blocking the horizon, was a silhouette.
Not the Sawmill.
Something else.
A tower.
A massive, skeletal broadcast tower rising from the desert floor. It pulsed with a rhythmic, hypnotic beat.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
"The Siren Song," Amelia whispered, clutching her ears. "He's already broadcasting."
Jason looked at the tower.
"That's not a radio station," Jason said. "That's a neurological weapon."
He racked his slide.
"New plan," Jason said. "We don't just rescue the pilot. We knock down the tower."