Read Power in the Hands of One for Free Online Page B

tube of the cannon; his bald head shines slick with sweat under the hangar lights.
    A mix of shock and urgency shoots through my spine. I don’t want to know what this weapon will do. My sloppy reach finds the scroll bar on the left again, racing to find the police band.
    I call down eternal damnation on all of Redd Research when Thomas reappears instead of the available radio bands. “This isn’t some game!” I scream with an imbalanced tone that scares me. I’m losing it.
    “What is man? A simple puppet? Some men are. He is a finite creature, one whose limitations are never understood as fully than by those who meet them. But man excels where he would not; he adapts to his environment.”
    “What did you say?” I ask.
    Thomas doesn’t acknowledge my question. “This evolution propels him to great heights, far beyond the limits imposed by common thought…”
    Yes, he’s said all this before. Is this a recording after all? “You,” I say with new conviction. “You’re the puppet.”
    At that, Thomas disappears and the control panels light up. Below, the agents take position behind the cannon and appear to make last-minute calibrations. There’s no time to call for help. Only one option left…
    I flick the last toggle switch—the one marked “Main Power.” An eerie whir spools up from beneath my seat and fills the cockpit. The slightest vibration buzzes through my body. Diagnostic information flickers on the control panels to either side of me.
    All monitors remain blank save for the primary. It flashes text indicating the boot sequence has begun while the voice of Thomas Worthington booms over the hum. I can only make out a few things he says: “Take the judgment seat…the decider of all men…power in the hands of one.”
    With an unsteady grip, I place a wet palm on each control arm. I don’t know what I’m doing, but the agents below me show no signs of retreat. With light pressure, I ease one arm forward. The machine lurches in response, and I feel very light.

Part Two

11
    The faint whine of motors and other mechanical devices hums beneath me as the robot attempts to correct my awkward command to move; it counterbalances and holds its unsteady gait without my having said so. I bring the other control arm forward and the robot follows with its left leg, regaining an even stance.
    In all of this, my seated position remains in constant parallel with the ground. It seems the command chair as well as most of the controls are built upon a gyroscopic device. My guess is they are meant to minimize any disorientation resulting from the robot’s movement.
    Below, two agents scatter while the one behind the cannon device remains. He stays intent on his aim, unflinching. Then he engages whatever trigger or button rests under his fingertips. The projectile streaks toward me.
    The payload sprouts mechanical prongs from its fore end. They spring outward like switchblades and grab hold of the chest of the robot, which more or less comprises my viewing area of the video screen.
    Like a lens on a camera, a black tube extends from the core of the projectile. I brace myself, certain it’s going to fire some deadly weapon. Instead, it spills out thousands of tiny shards, which upon contact seem to move across the armor like mechanical bugs.
    A graphic appears on screen, highlighting the little army in a green outline. A pop-up menu appears as if to explain them: Warning: Programmable matter. Threat level: Unknown.
    Wondering what programmable matter is, I watch the shards roll into each other and start to take the shape of a pulsating, coiled tube. In ten seconds it solidifies, a thin, armored worm which wraps itself around the body of the robot.
    After two passes, the “head” of the worm splits to form what looks like three rotating blades before connecting with the lower chest plate of the armor.
    A new pop-up window appears showing a detailed view of the robot, the lower chest plate flashing in red. Warning: