The Storm by Clive Cussler, Graham Brown Page A

pick up a screwdriver and a soldering gun and put these things together, it’s an extremely complicated endeavor. Someone connected with the initial design had to be involved.”
    As Marchetti spoke, Joe began circling in behind Leilani as quiet as a cat. “Keep talking, Marchetti,” Kurt said.
    “There might be nine or ten people who know major parts of the system,” he stammered, “but only one guy knows as much as I do. His name is Otero—and he’s right here on the island.”
    “He’s lying!” Leilani said. “He’s just trying to blame someone else.”
    As Leilani ranted, Joe pounced. He knocked the gun away and grabbed her arm, twisting it up behind her back in a half nelson.
    A loud bang rang out, and for a second Kurt thought the pistol had discharged. “Everyone all right?”
    Marchetti nodded, Joe did the same, Leilani appeared upset but unharmed.
    “What was that noise?” Kurt asked.
    No one knew, but when another clanking sound reached them Kurt caught sight of movement in the back of the darkened lab. The acrid smell of electrical discharges came next. The welding robots had become active. They were standing up on their feet, knocking items out of their way and discharging blue arcs of plasma from their appendages.
    Kurt turned to Marchetti. “Let me guess,” he said, “Otero’s your master programmer.”
    Marchetti nodded.
    “I have a feeling he’s been watching.”
    The welding robots began moving toward the humans. Two of them had small tracks like a tank’s to roll on. A third had clawlike feet that were scraping on the metal deck.
    Joe released Leilani. She turned to Kurt, apologizing.
    “I’m so sorry, I just—”
    “Save it,” Kurt said, his eyes on the menacing machines.
    Marchetti raced for the bulkhead door. He twisted and pulled the handle, but it wouldn’t budge.
    “Watch out,” Joe shouted.
    One of the machines had begun to zero in on Marchetti. It charged forward on its tracks with one appendage reaching for him and a second arm spouting blazing white plasma.
    Marchetti ducked and scampered to a new spot. The machine tracked him and began to close in again.
    Kurt looked for the gun and spotted it across the room. Before he could move, a fourth machine came alive and stepped in his path.
    He backed up, putting the couch between him and the walking machine. Joe and Leilani retreated as well.
    “How do they operate?” Kurt shouted as one of the robots reached the table and carved it in two with a circular saw.
    “Either autonomously or guided from a remote site,” Marchetti said. “They have pinhole cameras for eyes.”
    The machines lumbered toward them like sleepy animals. Each time they reached something solid, their actuators spun and their claws extended. A chair was flung out of the way, a couch set on fire with the welding torches.
    Kurt noticed that their movements were odd, only one machine at a time seemed to do anything out of the ordinary. “Could Otero be at that remote site right now?”
    Marchetti nodded. Kurt turned to Joe. “Now would be a good time for a suggestion.”
    “I’d say, let’s pull the plug,” Joe replied, “but I’m guessing they have batteries.”
    With that, he grabbed a chair and hurled it at the closest robot. It caromed off the lumbering machine, rocking it backward a bit, but other than that it seemed to have no effect.
    By now Kurt had been forced closer to where Marchetti stood. Joe and Leilani held a different spot. But the machines, or Otero, seemed intent on herding them together.
    Kurt made a break to the right, but a blast from a welding torch stopped him. He went the other way, relying on his quickness.
    The machine pivoted and released another blinding flash of plasma, but Kurt was already inside the machine’s reach. He felt the heat singe his back but not directly. He grabbed the first thing he could get his hands on and yanked until it broke off. Then he found another protrusion that looked like a camera and