Kill Decision(143)

“We’ll find out in a moment. Let me know if they get aggressive, and I’ll increase the spray.” McKinney tried not to get crazy with the application of pheromone. She imagined the size of an ant if its mandibular gland were the size of the canister outside. Then tried to remind herself how small an amount they could detect. Nonetheless, her first blasts from the nozzle felt excessive.

As she looked up from the canister, her heart raced. Flying in alongside them now were a dozen flat black flying wings only about five feet wide, with loud but small turbofan engines. These were clearly not ship-cutters because they didn’t have legs or a welding torch nose—instead they seemed to have automatic rifles or similar weapons bolted under their wings. They looked cheap. Poorly made. Some were damaged, but they still functioned enough to fly.

Judging from the motion of their engine nozzles, they seemed to be able to rotate them to increase their maneuverability. They were flying in close to the chopper—mere feet from the window—almost bumping into the Sikorsky, skirting under it.

Foxy swerved and cursed. “Goddammit! They’re going to take out our rotors if they crowd us too close.”

A drone bumped into their fuselage.

But just as soon as they appeared, they dispersed. The chopper was suddenly flying in open air again, just off the water. Drones now occasionally crossed their path, but it was the more random activity of a hive running foraging patterns. McKinney let out a relieved breath and pulled the cord to apply pheromone again.

Odin and Foxy glanced back at her. “Looks like you were right, Professor.”

“It was more than a hunch. These things operate on algorithmic principles.” She nodded. “Now let’s hope we don’t run out of pheromone or oxygen before we get this done.”

Odin keyed the radio. “TOC, this is Safari-One-Six actual.”

“Go ahead, Safari-One-Six.”

“Looks like the pheromone ruse works. We are flying into the swarm and toward the ship right now. Will keep you apprised. Out.”

“Goddamn, that’s good news, chief. Out.”

Just a few miles ahead they could see the broad stern of the Ebba Maersk. McKinney swallowed hard at the swirling crowd of aircraft and the now discernible vuvuzela-like whine that came to them even through their own engine noise.

“My God, look at it . . . there are thousands of them.”

Foxy shook his head. “I don’t know how I’m going to be able to get close enough to land without hitting a dozen of those things. Look how packed in they are.”

Odin motioned with his hand. “Get up higher. Try to come in from overhead.” He glanced to the side. “Hey! Getting some aggressive approaches at three o’clock. Professor, give us another dose.”

McKinney pulled on the nozzle.

Nonetheless a drone slammed into the side of the helicopter, cracking the side window and knocking their trim off before Foxy could recover.

“Jesus!”

McKinney watched the damaged drone spin apart and crash into the sea. No other drones seemed to be following its lead. She pulled several more times on the nozzle to coat their fuselage, just to be sure. Clear droplets traced along the glass.

Looking ahead, she could see they were now rising above the stern of the massive container ship. The water churned from the huge propellers as the ship steamed southward. The control tower in the distance rose like a massive T square near the center of the ship, probably twenty stories above the water—in the center of thousands of blue, gray, orange, and silver shipping containers that rose almost to the level of the control tower itself.

Unlike other shipping containers McKinney had seen, many of these had open panels in their sides and tops from which drones were entering and leaving the nests. She could see the turbofan drones tilting their engines down and hovering in for a landing, the air wavering with hot exhaust. But there were thousands of drones of still smaller size. She thought she could make out clouds of black quadracopter drones as well, not unlike the ones they’d faced in Colorado—but bigger, lawn mower–sized, with smoke coming off them as their two-stroke gasoline engines added to a deafening droning sound. It seemed to set the fillings in her teeth vibrating.

“God, would you listen to that?”

Foxy was bringing them into the cloud, angling for a landing. “Will these things make room for me, Professor?”

McKinney leaned forward to look. “If we collide they’ll back away . . . after trying to exchange data via their sensilla.”

There was a loud thump as a drone bumped into them from behind.

“Goddammit! We’re running on vapors. There’s no time for finesse. We gotta land.”