Foxy cut the van left down a side tunnel, and they were soon cruising down another cavern road that led to a vanishing point. “We operate under unofficial cover—oil and gas exploration firms, microwave communications companies. Things like that. Gives us what’s called ‘status for cover’—meaning a reason to be someplace. Allows us to move around in the countryside with heavy equipment without drawing attention. Here we are. . . .”
Foxy slowed the van, and then turned right down another side passage. Here the floor opened out into an endless grid of stone columns—but the lights ended. They now headed off into utter blackness. Their headlights seemed to be swallowed by the vast dark.
McKinney found herself leaning forward in her seat. “I’ll bet there are some interesting fossils in here.”
“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t know anything about that. All I know is that it’s a good place for an isolation facility. We’ve got a quarter million square feet far away from all the other tenants. That way we don’t get visitors, and no one notices us. We’re way the hell out in the darkness, and nobody’s going to wander on over to borrow a cup of sugar. Look . . .” He pointed at the stone floor stretching out beneath the headlights.
McKinney could see a single security lamp in the distance.
“Porch light’s on, so the coast is clear.”
They drew closer to the light and finally pulled up to a rolltop door in a long white corrugated steel wall that rose from rock floor to rock ceiling. It stretched out into the darkness in both directions. Several cameras focused on the entrance. Foxy waved, and the rolltop door began to rise, clattering with an echoing racket amid all the exposed rock.
She could see a company logo for Ancile Services, text with a simple shield shape; the same logo emblazoned on her coat. There was a suite number next to the garage door, along with a mail drop and an intercom. It all looked quite innocuous. Underground buildings apparently had to be fashioned down here to make the spaces functional and comfortable. The perimeter wall looked similar to what other businesses had built, although there appeared to be domed security camera enclosures at intervals along the perimeter.
McKinney was surprised when what lay behind the rolltop gate was just more darkness.
Foxy nodded forward. “Buffer area—a hundred-foot-wide exterior perimeter to prevent anyone listening in on what we’re up to.” He pulled the van through the doorway, and the gate descended behind them.
As they drove ahead into the dark, something came swimming out the blackness. Literally swimming through the air was a small shark, replete with teeth and fins, its tail working furiously as it swam to investigate the incoming van.
McKinney peered closely at it. “What the hell . . . ?”
Moments later several more sharks “swam” out the darkness, converging on the van like a school of fish.
She laughed in confusion. “Okay . . . what are those things?”
“Air swimmers—cheap children’s toy that Expert Five converted for security purposes. It’s a neutral-buoyancy balloon with a power tail fin. I don’t know how many he’s got flying out here, but they patrol the buffer space for intruders.”
Sure enough, now dozens more of the things were sweeping in out of the dark all around them to investigate the lights and movement of the van, bumping up against the windows as though the van were a submarine.
McKinney couldn’t help but admire them. “They’re swarming.” She noticed also a little payload beneath the shark-shaped dirigibles, a rectangular piece of black plastic—and the reflection of a camera lens.
Foxy nodded. “Yeah, Five’s an AI expert. You’ll like him. From what I understand, his fish here explore a space, memorize the layout, and then they use some sort of routing algorithm to patrol.”
“A foraging pattern. Do you know what species they’re modeling?”
“I sure don’t. All I know is they explore the space and remember the layout. When they encounter something that wasn’t there before, they send up an alarm. Flying around independently makes it difficult to blind them with lasers or other countermeasures. They swim to a charging station too.” He chuckled. “Freaky how much it looks like fish feeding.”
“So an antidrone unit is being guarded by drones.”
“Fire with fire.”
“Oh, there’s a clown fish.” McKinney pointed.
“Yeah, it’s getting crowded. C’mon, move it.” Foxy tapped the horn as he nudged through the gathering wall of fish. “Everyone else is probably asleep, but I’ll get you squared away in your quarters.”