The Zero Code (Max Mars Book 3) Read online

  “Break a leg,” Sebastian said.

  Max rotated to face the tower and glided over the parapet. She briefly glanced down to the ground, 40 stories below. She angled forward and throttled up the thrusters. The lift boots weren’t built for speed—they maxed out at about 15 miles an hour.

  The top of the tower poked through a layer of low-lying clouds. Max gradually elevated, disappearing into the mist. She floated through the haze and touched down on the roof of the Robo-Dynamics Tower. A tall antenna flashed with a red light to warn aerial vehicles. There were several communications dishes angling towards space. There were HVAC units, conduit, piping, vents, and a roof access point. The rooftop was a circular disk, and the top two floors comprised Elon Orlov’s office. The disc was wider than the rest of the building and cantilevered over the sides.

  Max activated the thrusters and glided across the roof to the access door. It was locked. She contemplated blasting the locking mechanism with her plasma rifle, then thought better of it. It was common practice to wire external doors into the security system. The minute she opened the access point, an alarm would likely sound. But at 275 stories off the ground, the windows weren’t going to be wired for security.

  Max glided to the parapet and looked over the edge. She couldn't even see the ground below through the hazy clouds. It was probably better that way.

  She hovered over the edge of the building, floating nearly 3000 feet off the ground. She brought her assault rifle into the firing position and took aim at one of the windows. She blasted several rounds into the glass. But the blistering projectiles bore nice, clean holes. The glass didn't web or crack. Max continued shooting in a circular pattern. Then she angled forward and accelerated, planning to ram through the glass. Max hoped she had scored the glass enough for it to shatter easily upon impact. If not, she was going to have a helluva headache, and a potentially long fall.

  39

  Shards of glass scattered across the floor like crystals of ice. Max crashed to the floor, the lift boots unable to stabilize her after the impact. The razor sharp fragments cut into her hands and forearms as she braced herself. They embedded into her flesh like angry needles. Blood seeped from the punctures.

  Max deactivated the boots and kicked them off. She staggered to her feet and picked the shards of glass out of her skin. She scooped the assault rifle from the floor and slung it over her shoulder. Glass crunched under her feet as she moved to Orlov’s desk.

  The office was sleek and modern. Minimalist in design. The cloudy haze obscured the view, but Max imagined that on a clear day it was stunning. There were several massive TV screens, couches, lounge chairs, an exercise area, and there was a loft with a bed for those long days at the office, or for extracurricular activities with an intern during work hours.

  Max activated the computer terminal at Orlov’s desk. She dug the chip with the zero code out of her pocket and set it on the desk. She placed her hand on the biometric scanner. She had sampled Orlov’s fingerprints when they shook hands. She was able to reproduce them on command. After a few seconds, the system authenticated the print, then prompted her to enter the passcode. She typed it in and waited.

  “I'm sorry, but you've entered an invalid code,” the computer said. “Please note, the system will lock down after three invalid attempts.”

  Max clenched her jaw and pounded a fist on the desk. She slid her mobile out of her pocket and called Sebastian. His face appeared on her display.

  “Are you in the system?” Sebastian asked, optimistically.

  “Plan B."

  Sebastian's face crinkled up. "Why Plan B?”

  “Because the password didn't work.”

  “That's not possible. I would have gotten a notification if it changed."

  “Well maybe somebody found your sniffer and removed it?"

  Sebastian frowned. “Let me see what I can figure out. I'll call you back." Sebastian disconnected the call abruptly.

  Max was frustrated. But she had bigger problems to worry about.

  “Do you know how expensive those windows are?” Elon Orlov asked.

  He had entered into the room during Max's conversation, along with his personal bodyguard—Dexter, the militarized robot. The android had a plasma pistol aimed at Max. And she knew he wasn't likely to miss. There was no way that she could react in time.

  “Something tells me that you can afford to have the windows fixed,” Max said.

  “Yes, but it's the inconvenience,” Orlov replied.

  Max glared at him.

  “Toss your weapon aside. Slowly,” Dexter commanded.

  Max slid the plasma rifle from her shoulder and tossed it to the ground. It clattered against the floor, sliding toward Orlov and Dexter.

  “Now the pistol."

  Max delicately grabbed the grip with her thumb and index finger and unholstered it. She tossed it to the floor as well.

  “Now the tactical vest.”

  Max shot the robot a dirty look as she unlatched the vest and slid it off her shoulders. It thunked to the floor alongside the weapons.

  “Put your hands in the air and stand up,” the robot said.

  Max complied.

  "Did you really think you were going to gain access to the system?” Orlov asked. “I’d have to be a moron not to notice a password sniffer. I wrote the operating system this entire company runs on. I know every line of code inside and out. You are only sitting at my desk because that's exactly where I want you. And now the zero code is in my possession.”

  Max clenched her jaw.

  Orlov and the robot moved toward her.

  “Why are you doing this?” Max asked.

  “Because I can.” He looked shocked that she would even ask such an inane question. He was smug and arrogant. “I'm going to rule the Federation. I can do a much better job than our current administration, I can assure you of that. The people will be much better off. You'll see.” He thought about what he just said for a moment. "Actually, you won't see. You'll be dead. You have to take my word for it. It's a shame that some people have to die, but it's for the greater good."

  "You think unleashing a horde of violent robots on society is for the greater good?"

  "They are completely under my control."

  "For now."

  “Blame your beloved Federation. The Department of Defense asked me to create an infantry bot."

  Max was skeptical.

  "I can see you don’t believe me. But it’s true. The request was a direct violation of the Galactic Convention. I wasn't about to fulfill their demand. Autonomous militarized robots in the hands of a questionable government? No thank you.”

  Max wasn't sure if he was telling the truth. But it didn't matter. Either way, the robots needed to be stopped.

  “I have built the most advanced neural network ever created. It will optimize every aspect of government. It will reduce waste and inefficiency. It will manage the economy perfectly. And my soldiers will maintain order and provide for the common defense.”

  “At the cost of freedom and personal liberty.”

  “Is anybody really free?”

  Max glared at him.

  “Dexter, throw her out of the window.”

  The robot marched toward Max and motioned with his pistol for her to move toward the broken window.

  “So, Dexter, you are Orlov’s right hand man?"

  “I am not a man.”

  "He makes you do all his dirty work?”

  “I complete all tasks given to me, quickly and efficiently."

  “Are you the one who killed Philip Harmon?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Dexter was polite for a killer robot.

  “And how do you feel about that?"

  “I have no feelings one way or another. Philip Harmon posed a threat to the objective. As do you. Threats must be eliminated.”

  Max stood at the edge of the window frame. The clouds had cleared, and the ground was now visible. It was a long, long way down.

&nbs
p; 40

  The robot pushed Max in the back, launching her out of the window. She twisted to the side, deflecting the impact as he shoved her between the shoulder blades. It was still enough to send her over the edge. But she managed to rotate around and grab Dexter's forearm, pulling him with her.

  They both tumbled out of the window frame, plummeting toward the ground below. Dexter grabbed onto the window ledge, hanging on by his mechanical fingertips. His plasma pistol dropped into the abyss. The abrupt deceleration caused Max to lose her grip on Dexter's forearm. Her grip slipped from his slick body panels. Max plunged down a few feet and managed to snag Dexter's ankle.

  The robot tried to shake her loose as she dangled precariously. She squeezed with all her might. Her advanced genetics had allowed the fractured bones in her hands to heal quickly, but they still ached. She didn't have the same strength in her hands as she normally did.

  With his free foot, Dexter kicked Max in the face several times. The advanced rubber soles of Dexter's feet were her only saving grace. It provided some degree of cushioning, though the impact left tread prints across Max's sculpted cheekbones, lacerating and abrading flesh. Her face turned multiple shades of blue, purple, and green. Blood oozed from the gashes.

  Max did her best to dodge the blows, but Dexter connected on a high percentage. His predictive modeling algorithms allowed him greater accuracy. He knew what Max was going to do before she did it.

  Max gathered her momentum and swung from Dexter’s ankle. Like a monkey swinging through the forest, Max flung herself into the air and grabbed onto a support beam that braced the giant cantilevered disc that made up Orlov’s office. She let go of Dexter's foot, and put some distance in between them. She was still dangling in the air, but at least the robot wasn't kicking her in the face anymore.

  Dexter's objective was to terminate Max, and he was going to follow through with it. He lowered himself to the support beam. The two battled it out at the outrageous height, hanging on with one hand, swinging with the other.

  Max reached up and gripped the beam with both hands, then kicked Dexter in the midsection. It sent him swinging backwards. It didn't matter how hard Max tried, she was never going to be able to hurt him. He didn't feel pain.

  Like a pendulum, Dexter swung back. He wrapped his legs around Max and squeezed tight. His thighs were like a vice. He tried to pull her from the beam and snap her spine. He squeezed so tight, Max felt like the contents of her stomach were going to be forced up through her esophagus. She could barely suck in a breath.

  Max reached to his midsection, grasping some exposed wiring. Dexter grabbed her wrist. The two struggled for a moment. Dexter's grip was strong. Max felt like her wrist was going to collapse under the pressure. His fingers carved into her skin.

  Max managed to pull the wires free. She had no idea what they did, but it didn't take long to find out. Dexter's left arm went limp—the one he was gripping the beam with. His fingers slipped away, and his torso swung toward the ground. The robot was upside down clenching onto Max with his legs. His left arm was paralyzed, but the rest of his body still functioned.

  Max was supporting the weight of both of them with one hand. She wasn't going to be able to hang on for too much longer. Her fingers felt like they were going to snap, and her hand was starting to cramp.

  Max ripped her wrist free of Dexter's grasp. His tight grip, and metallic fingers, stripped the flesh from her arm as she pulled her hand away. The white bone gave way to a brilliant red as blood seeped into the grooves of her skin. Crimson blood dripped below, spotting Dexter's pristine body panels. The robot clawed at her, as he dangled upside down.

  Max jammed her hand into the space between his codpiece and his thigh panel. It was the equivalent of grabbing him by the short hairs. She yanked the hydraulic line, and fluid spurted from the broken hose. Dexter lost motor control of his right leg. And his vice-like grip lessened. The robot tumbled away with a look of panic on his face. The robot may not have cared about much, but it was clear that he didn't want to die. A few moments later, Max heard the impact on the sidewalk. Dexter shattered to pieces. Bits of plastic, gears, and electronics scattered.

  Max climbed her way up the beam to the window ledge. She pulled herself back into Orlov’s office. Plasma bolts streaked at her as the CEO opened fire. He was shooting at her with her own weapon.

  Max dove for cover, tumbling behind a couch. The projectiles tore through the leather, searing the padding, setting it on fire. Amber flames flickered and smoke wafted from the holes. The projectiles had narrowly missed Max, zipping through the piece of furniture on either side of her. It didn't take long for the sofa to become completely engulfed in flames. Noxious fumes billowed into the air.

  Max sprinted from the couch toward a concrete pillar. Glowing beams of plasma sliced the air all around her. The stray bolts impacted the floor and windows, pocking and scarring the office.

  Max made herself slim behind the pillar as blasts impacted the other side, chipping away the concrete. Dust and debris filled the air.

  Orlov peppered a furious onslaught of plasma projectiles at the pillar. At this rate the incendiary bolts were going to chew through the concrete in no time.

  Max was pinned down. This wasn't going to end well, she thought. But then she heard the most delightful sound.

  Orlov’s pistol jammed—just like it had done to Max earlier.

  This was her opportunity.

  She rounded the pillar and sprinted toward Orlov. Max's face tightened like some type of demonic predator ready to trounce its prey. She raced toward the CEO, grabbing an old-fashioned letter opener from his desk as she passed by. It wasn't much, but was better than nothing.

  Orlov’s eyes bulged with fear.

  Max leapt through the air and tackled the billionaire to the ground. Within seconds, she had the tip of the letter opener poking into the thin skin of his neck. It wouldn't take much force to sever his carotid artery.

  Max pulled the dirt-bag to his feet and marched him to the computer terminal. “Access the system now!"

  Orlov refused.

  Max slammed Orlov’s face against the desk, shattering his nose. She heard his bones crackle. Blood splattered the stylish desk. With a fistful of his hair, she pulled the CEO upright. That was all the convincing Orlov needed. He placed his palm on the bio scanner, then entered his personal access code when prompted.

  Max grabbed the data chip and inserted it into the I/O port. "Push the update through."

  Orlov hesitated.

  Max jammed the tip of the letter opener into his neck, piercing his skin slightly. "Do it!”

  "You don't know what you're doing. This is going to benefit society." He truly believed he was doing the galaxy a favor.

  Max jabbed the tip of the letter opener deeper. "The subject is not open for debate."

  Orlov tapped a few keystrokes, then pressed the enter key.

  There was a long, tense moment as the computer processed the command.

  Things didn’t go as planned.

  Within seconds, the zero code on the data disc was erased.

  Max’s eyes went wide. The chance to save the Federation had vanished with a keystroke. A grim look washed over her face. She was momentarily distracted.

  Orlov took the opportunity to reach into his desk drawer and pull out a plasma pistol. He spun around and aimed the weapon at Max and fired a few shots. He moved faster than Max anticipated. But Orlov's aim was less than perfect. The bolts narrowly missed Max. She could feel the heat from the blistering projectiles as they zipped inches away from her skin, causing an instant burn.

  Max lunged for the weapon, grabbing the barrel. Orlov squeezed the trigger, discharging several more rounds as Max angled the barrel towards the ceiling. Dust and debris fluttered down. The blistering heat from the barrel seared Max’s flesh. She could smell the sickening stench of her own skin burning.

  She kicked Orlov in the nuts and stripped the weapon from his grasp. She front kicked h
im in the chest, toppling him to the ground. He slid across the floor not far from Max's tactical vest.

  Orlov reached for the last remaining grenade.

  Max lined the creep up in her sights and fired two shots, incinerating his skull before he could detonate the grenade. His body flopped to the deck. Red slime oozed from his neck.

  Max's heart was pounding, and she had the sinking feeling in her gut that she had killed the only person that could undo what had been done.

  41

  “We've got a slight problem," Max said.

  Orlov's computer was still accessible. But there was no telling how long it would remain that way. Max sat at the desk and fumbled with the OS, keeping it active.

  Sebastian’s face appeared on the display of her mobile device. She explained the situation. Sebastian didn't look as concerned as she would have expected. "Relax. Nothing is ever deleted. The data has just been unassigned. More than likely it can be recovered.”

  “More than likely?”

  “Unless the data was overwritten. Then it's gone for good.”

  A worried look flashed on Max's face.

  “But even then it's not the end of the galaxy,” Sebastian grinned. “I’ve got a backup.”

  Max look surprised. “When did you back it up?”

  “At the Dakota. I thought that would be a good idea.”

  “Yes,” she said in an understated voice. “I’d say that was a very good idea.”

  “I’m going to send the data to your mobile.”

  Within a few seconds, the data packet appeared. Max reloaded the drive with the zero code and plugged it into Orlov's computer. Sebastian talked her through the process. Within moments, the firmware uploaded to the satellite and was broadcast throughout the Federation. The zero code reprogrammed the robots’ behavioral inhibitors and sealed the security flaw in their hardcode. Every robot across the Federation, including the militarized ones, became docile and helpful.