Turncoat: Turncoat Trilogy Book 1

Chapter 2.1

My fingers flipped through the various wires that I exposed when I removed the ‘bot’s, a Dom3 model used for reconnaissance, maintenance hatch. The various colored wires ran every which way, connecting the plethora of circuit boards and sensors that made up the inside of the ‘bot. My tech goggles outlined each wire in a luminescent blue and a data box popped up with the purpose of the wire. Information I really truly had no need for. I already knew which wire I was looking for: the d12 insulted fiberoptic with a green polymer coating. It connected the upper most troop recognition scanner to the software motherboard, which meant if it malfunctioned, the ‘bot couldn’t distinguish between Alliance and Axis troops. So, there had been a few cases of accidental friendly fire.

Finally, I separated out the four green polymer coated wires and found myself nearly blinded by my tech goggles. For whatever reason, it determined it necessary to outline each wire and display the necessary information all at once. Now, thoroughly annoyed with the goggles, I began the slow process of communicating with them in a less the gentle voice.

“One at a time, damn it,” I snapped. The communication chip in my jaw sent the improperly worded command to my wrist interface; which I had programmed to communicate with only my tech goggles at the time. An error message scrolled across my vision and I ground my teeth together.

“Goggles, display settings, information, number of data boxes, one, set,” I said through clenched teeth. The menus scrolled as quickly as I could give the directions, sometimes barely coming completely open before the next one had to open. Finally, the menu vanished, leaving only one data box and wire illuminated. I slowly filtered through the wires until I found the correct one, which happened to be the last one. I gave the wire a gentle tug to see if it had simply come loose and the wire went slack, an end arching towards me.

Instinct took over and I pushed myself back, careening out from underneath the ‘bot. A string of curses left my mouth as I hooked the toe of my boot over the edge of the open maintenance hatch. It was a harmless green wire—a data transfer fiberoptic cable. Getting touched by it was about as harmful as going for a swim.

Okay, bad example, because people drown. Like, all the time. I mean, I can’t swim exceptionally well, so with a bad under current and all of that fluid dynamics stuff, people like me get sucked under and then…not important. What was important is that a green wire was about as dangerous as, um, I dunno…something that wasn’t.

I looked back down to see the wire hanging free from one end, open lead dangling on the ground. I grit my teeth together. Nothing could ever be easy, could it? I pushed myself back under the ‘bot and began the tedious task of looking through the motherboards for the connection point. Already, I would have to thread a new wire through the body of the ‘bot. The last thing I wanted to do involved pulling the entire ‘bot apart to figure out where the cable connected.

Three motherboards later, I got lucky, sort of. The cable connected to a spot very close to the edge. That was about as far as my luck extended. A round had clearly gotten into the interior of the ‘bot—probably through one of the holes in the exterior armor—nearly severed the fiberoptic and nicked the black polymer-coated, power cables, which would also need replaced or covered. Covering the wires would only be a temporary fix, since the electric discharge would begin to wear through the thin tape and the ‘bot would end right back up here to have the cables replaced. Regardless of whether I patched or replaced, I would need a second set of hands.

I grabbed the tool off my belt and reached up carefully, making sure to keep my hands well clear of the black wires before grasping the connection point and pulling it out.  The broken connector went into the pouch on my belt and the pliers went back onto their loop. I pulled myself out carefully the time, controlling the rolling platform underneath me. Once out from underneath the ‘bot, I sat up carefully, trying not to agitate my back.