Free The Loss (Zombie Ocean Book 4) by Michael John Grist

self-erase neural connections.
    They hadn't progressed very far. True AI was hard, and a lot of their early programs had simply committed suicide, using their powers of erasing to erase themselves completely. It was a thorny problem to overcome, and an incredibly delicate balance to walk: how to motivate an AI to want to live, when it was trapped inside a computer with no drive to procreate, no hunger for praise and no sense of fear or pain.
    "We need you in MARS3000," Mecklarin said, his voice so unexpected but thrilling. "Second psychologist on deck 3. The research opportunities will be enormous. You'll walk out of this made for life, if your research and intuition are half as good as I think they are. The only condition is you need to be here today. We're sealing the Habitat tonight."
    "Tonight? I thought it was due to close in three months."
    "The schedule's changed. I've sent a helicopter for you already; it'll be there in minutes. You only need to get in it. Bring a few mementos if you like, a small bag. Can I count on you?"
    A dozen thoughts ran through her mind. Call her father. Tell her boyfriend goodbye. What to pack? Ten years was a very long time.
    "Salle?"
    "I'm in."
    "I'll see you in two hours."
    When she parked in her spot and turned the engine off, the chop chop of helicopter rotor blades was already thrumming overhead. What followed was a dream, like something out of a movie. The helicopter came down in the middle of a football field, surrounded by students staring.
    This was hardly protocol.
    A man in a black suit got out, ignored campus security completely, and escorted Salle on board. He briefed her as the helicopter took off moments later, not bothering to share his name or any other information. The rotor blades were a storm and they flew north.
    Within two hours they were pulling in over Mt. Abraham, and the man in black pointed out the approximate locations of MARS3000's various facilities. There was almost nothing left above ground; no sign of the vast earthworks they'd dug under the mountain to augment an existing nuclear bunker, no parking lot, only a single winding road tracing through a gorgeous scene of snow-capped mountains and spruce forest.
    "That's one of our communications arrays," the man said, pointing at the one above-ground feature Salle could see, a tall metal pole sticking up from a large gray concrete block. "It's hardwired to the Habitat; thousands of cameras and data feeds, all of them feeding in only one direction." He gave a tight smile. "Out."
    The helicopter came down and they switched to a Jeep, escorted by a brusque military man. The air was chill and fresh, tasting like winter though it was mid-summer. Nobody else was around.
    "Is everyone already in?" Salle asked.
    He nodded.
    "But, how?"
    "You're a replacement," he said. "Your predecessor got sick. She couldn't come in."
    The Jeep raced up the winding road, at some point turned off then proceeded directly up the mountain off-road at a steep angle. After a few minutes they stopped, got out and walked, up onto the mid-slope of the mountain where the trees faded out and scatterings of uneven scree lay everywhere.
    "All of this was dug up," the man said, gesturing. "All around you for hundreds of meters. You can't notice it, can you?"
    Salle couldn't. It looked indistinguishable from any other part of the mountain.
    "Here," he said, reaching a manhole cover in the ground. A silvery metal rod lay nearby, which he picked up and used to lever off the lid. It popped open with a slight gasp of air. "The fans are already up. The walls are coming down within hours. Let's go, Salle."
    She hesitated for a moment, looking around at the world, at the sky, wondering if this was a mistake.
    "My car," she blurted. "I left it parked. My father too, I didn't tell him."
    The man nodded. "We'll store your car, and we'll tell your father. Unfortunately there's no time to call him now, and this is a communications blackout area. Delicate