Target: Earth (Extinction Wars Book 5)

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Target: Earth (Extinction Wars Book 5) Page 8

by Vaughn Heppner


  It was an eerie feeling moving out of phase like this. The world seemed blurry and gray, decidedly indistinct. I had a difficult time knowing where we were, and I found it hard to breathe.

  I had a rebreather over my mouth and nose, but that wasn’t as effective as the closed environment of the suit. I closed my eyes to avoid a headache. The bubble helmet had special filters embedded within it, allowing one to look around without mental fatigue. If I looked around too much with my naked eyes while out of phase, the disorientation would begin to play havoc with my brain.

  Soon enough, as we both came back into phase, the world came into focus again. N7 released me, and I staggered to a stool inside my GEV.

  The stealth ship could land on a planet easily enough. The GEV was still in stealth mode and was out of the way, camouflaged for the moment. That might not last long as luck often played a factor in these missions, usually bad luck.

  I used to watch plenty of action shows as a kid. There was one in particular that always got to me. The hero often needed a car while he was stranded on foot. He’d run at a normal city driver, making the guy skid to a stop in his vehicle. Then, the hero would yank open the car door and aim his gun at the person’s face, shouting at him or her to get out. Naturally, the person did, and the hero drove away in the stolen car in order to finish the desperate mission. Just once, I would have liked the driver to irrationally fight back. Sometimes, people do stupid things. Sometimes, an action star like that would have yanked open the car door of a tough guy willing to just go for it and wrestle the hero onto the pavement.

  But then the hero would have had to shoot the guy, or maybe the tough guy would have taken out the star, and the series would have ended right there.

  Made-up stories were one thing. Real life was something else, with accidents happening all the time.

  My point is that something was eventually going to go wrong on the mission. As the classic military maxim states: No plan survives contact with the enemy.

  Inside the GEV parked a kilometer and a half away from the Rat’s Nest, N7 stripped off the Shrike Lord Phase Suit. It was a bulky thing with air tanks, a phase generator, directional locator and other paraphernalia.

  With his help, I put the suit on, checking and double-checking the various controls. We had to move fast, but that didn’t mean rashly.

  Finally, with everything on but the bubble helmet, which I cradled in an arm, I asked, “Have you contacted Ella yet?”

  “Yes,” N7 said.

  “Oh?” I said. “Is she ready?”

  “No.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Ella is unwilling to use the Jelk mind machine,” N7 said. “She says it has been too long. She won’t know what to do.”

  “Balls,” I said. “Tell Ella I’m counting on her. If she can’t do it, no one can. Then, Earth dies. It’s as simple as that.”

  “I doubt Ella will believe you.”

  “N7, I don’t have time for this. Make Ella believe me. That’s an order.”

  The android blinked, looking confused.

  “Yes,” I said. “You’re under my orders again. It’s official.”

  “What is your authority?”

  “N7, I don’t want to have to say it.”

  With a forefinger, the android touched his forehead. “I feel a compulsion to obey you. Have you tampered with my programming perchance?”

  I hesitated before saying, “Yes.”

  “That was wrong of you, Commander.”

  “I shouldn’t have done it. But I did because I’m in a time crunch. You aren’t helping things by arguing with me.”

  “I feel the inner compulsion expanding in me,” N7 said.

  “Look, I had to do what I did. Can you take my word for that?”

  “Would you take my word if our positions were reversed?”

  “I don’t know.” What was going on here? N7 was supposed to obey me. How did he find any AI willpower to resist after I’d reprogrammed key features?

  “Your answer suggests that you would not ‘take my word for it’ but are unwilling to say so,” N7 told me.

  “Think of my tampering as an upgrade. You always wanted those, right?”

  “I do desire upgrades, but like you I abhor mental enslavement.”

  “Enslavement? Did you know how to operate a Shrike Lord Phase Suit before today?”

  “That is nonsensical, as the question is not germane to the issue.”

  “If it helps you any,” I said, “after this is done, I’ll reverse what I did earlier.”

  “What did you do to me, Commander?”

  I sighed. This was taking too long. “I made you loyal and I made it so you can’t tell anyone what you’ve learned or done.”

  “It is as I suspected. You have enslaved me.”

  “N7—”

  “Am I wrong, Commander?”

  I looked at N7, an android and one of my oldest friends. Let me amend that, one of my only friends. Maybe I’d been gone from Earth for so long that I’d forgotten about real friendship. That brought an overwhelming sense of guilt, which astonished me.

  I’d been having far too many guilty feelings lately. I wanted the old Creed back. This was getting tedious.

  “Okay,” I said. “You’re not wrong. I miscalculated. No. I screwed up and messed with one of my only friends. I regret that, and I won’t do it again.”

  “How can I trust your words, Commander?”

  “I don’t know if you can. I played fast and loose with you, N7. If you want to abort—go ahead. All you have to do is walk out that hatch and you’re free of me.”

  “Will you succeed in your mission without me?”

  “Maybe, but the odds are longer. You know, N7, I don’t know why we’re having this conversation. Forget that. I don’t know how it’s possible. Something is going on that—”

  An interior hatch slid up, and Ella Timoshenko stepped through. “Hello, Creed,” she said.

  I did a double take, eyeing her, N7 and then her again.

  Ella was a thin Russian with a pretty face, with a few wrinkles I didn’t remember, and a figure that still wouldn’t quit. Her dark hair was longer than before, but still made her seem like an erotic elf lady. She’d been an assault trooper once, one of the only female troopers among us.

  Unfortunately, Ella had a gun in one hand—aimed at me—and she had a communicator in the other hand. She studied me, and she seemed as serious as I’d ever seen her.

  “This is awkward,” I said, nodding slowly. I turned to N7. “You let her aboard. Oh, right.” I faced Ella again. “You reversed my modifications to N7. But…I don’t see how that was possible, especially in so short a time.”

  “N7 contacted me before landing, and I joined him as soon as the vessel touched down. We’ve been reversing your AI-altering ever since.”

  “I still don’t see how. Everything in the GEV is locked against unauthorized use.”

  “Locked with your passwords,” Ella said. “You may have been gone ten years, Creed, but we still know you better than anyone else does. We may even know you better than you know yourself.”

  “You cracked my passwords?”

  “Easily,” Ella said.

  It was starting to come together. “Right,” I said. “That’s why Diana and her pet policeman keep asking me about being the Galactic Effectuator? You told them.”

  “I did,” Ella said.

  “Why?”

  “You’ve been gone a long time. Maybe your loyalties have changed.”

  “They haven’t,” I said. “How much did you tell Diana?”

  “She doesn’t know about your stealth ship or about N7.”

  “Small favors,” I said. “Thanks. Did Diana ask how you knew about that?”

  “I told her I eavesdropped on you and the Curator ten years ago on the park bench in Saint Petersburg.”

  “How do you know about that?”

  Ella blushed. “I planted a bug on the park bench that day.�
��

  “Oh.” I nodded. “So where does all that lead us? Are you going to shoot me?”

  “I haven’t decided,” Ella said. “First, what’s your plan?”

  I thought fast and finally gave her a quick rundown regarding the phase suit part of my plan.

  My Russian scientist was nodding before I was finished. “I figured it was something like that because N7 said you wanted me to use the Jelk mind machine. I changed Doctor Sant’s mind once. Why not change the Lokhar Ambassador’s mind, eh?”

  “Are you with me or are you going to shoot me?”

  Ella glanced at N7. “What do you think?”

  “I understand why he tampered with my mind,” the android said. “I also believe that he is truly contrite for what he did to me. I am with you, Commander Creed.”

  “It’s just Creed,” I said, because I was starting to feel choked up and didn’t want to show it.

  “I prefer Commander Creed,” N7 said. “So as long as I am helping you, and under your command, I will continue to use your old title.”

  “Fair enough…and thanks, N7. You don’t know what it’s like finding that you still have friends.”

  “You’re not going to get emotional on us, are you, Creed?” Ella asked.

  “Are you in, or out?” I asked, quietly.

  “In,” Ella said, as she holstered the gun.

  “Great,” I said. “Then let’s get to work.”

  -21-

  The plan had complications, too many moving parts that could come to a screeching halt if the wrong person walked in at the wrong time.

  N7 had just about destroyed the mission by bringing Ella in as he had. As I trudged, out of phase, to the Ambassador’s residence, I wondered how I’d screwed up while retooling the android’s brain. Might I have subconsciously “intentionally” made a mistake with N7? That struck me as farfetched, but I didn’t discount the possibility.

  Whatever the case, I’d gotten sloppy. That meant I needed to pay closer attention to each individual task. The two years in suspended animation might have dulled my instincts more than I’d realized.

  Walking while out of phase wasn’t as easy as it might sound. For one thing, it was hard to know where you were going. One had to phase-in slightly, like a submarine gliding near the surface and shooting up the periscope, to have a look around. Being completely out of phase was like the Invisible Man trying to see where he was going. With light rays passing through him, his eyes wouldn’t bounce any images into his mind. The light rays would simply pass through the interior reflectors in his eyes.

  I phased into ghostly form and looked around, seeing a ghostly tiger guard marching in the downstairs area of the Ambassador’s official residence.

  Climbing was harder while out of phase; it took deliberate practice. The same was true of going down through the ground.

  I went fully out of phase again and moved upward, turning ghostly, seeing a guard in a hall, and walked through a wall into the fat boy’s sleeping quarters.

  What made everything harder than usual was the cargo slumped over my left shoulder. I carried a tub-of-lard replica of the overweight Lokhar. The replica was a form of an android. It wouldn’t fool the tigers for long if anyone looked too closely. The point was to have the replica sleeping in the Ambassador’s bed so no one did look too closely.

  I entered the darkened quarters, fully expecting to see lady tigers in bed with the Ambassador. Nope, not this time. Count Loris slept alone. The old boy made a production out of it, moaning in his sleep and turning about. He’d kicked all his sheets aside, snoring like a banshee.

  I phased fully in. As I did, the Ambassador’s eyes shot open.

  Had I triggered a hidden alarm or was the Ambassador unusually alert to hidden presences?

  Count Loris stared at me. Through me? He closed his eyes and rolled over. Had he figured I was a nightmare? A second later, he rolled toward me with his eyes wide open. He sat up, opened his mouth, no doubt getting ready to roar.

  I lunged at him, dropping the replica as I did. The thing hit the bed and thumped to the floor, making a racket on the way down. The Ambassador began shouting just as I stretched out and touched him with a stun wand. A massive jolt of electricity zapped him. He made a gurgling sound, shook hard and slumped back, out cold.

  I put away the stunner as someone tapped at the bedroom door. That was fast.

  “Excellency?” a high-voiced Lokhar asked from the other side.

  I’d heard that voice before. Right. It must be the hippy tiger.

  I activated the replica as the hippy tapped again. “Excellency?” he repeated.

  “Yes,” the replica asked, at the proper modulation.

  “Is everything well, Excellency?”

  “Yes, yes,” the replica said. “Fine. Now leave me. I’m trying to sleep.”

  I waited. Maybe the replica had said that wrong. Then again, maybe it worked, as the hippy went away. At least, he stopped tapping at the door.

  The replica helped me disrobe the Ambassador, putting on the count’s nightclothes. Then, the replica crawled under the covers and feigned sleep.

  The replica was center galaxy tech, far better than anything anyone could fashion out here.

  I worked under the huge tub-of-lard—the real Ambassador—grunting as I hefted him onto my back. That should give some indication of my strength. This old boy was massive.

  With my chin, I clicked a helmet control and we phased out.

  While out of phase, I staggered out of the bedroom and worked down to the main floor. I ghosted into slightly higher phase once in order to look around. A guard must have seen me, as he stared in wide-eyed terror, the fur on his head standing up on end.

  That was just great.

  I debated phasing all the way in and shooting him, but decided I’d have to trust to luck. I phased out, carrying the ponderous Ambassador back to my hidden stealth ship.

  -22-

  The Jelk mind machine was a vicious piece of technology. The Jelk Corporation had used it to brainwash selected people for nefarious ends.

  Count Loris was strapped into the machine, which was inside the stealth ship. Back in the day, Ella had become something of a master with it. She’d modified many Lokhars while we’d worked hard to revive Earth.

  Ella worked hard now, fiddling with controls that made the old boy jerk and twitch while he sat under it.

  N7 helped Ella with the ordeal.

  I begged off, moving into a different area of the ship. I’d never enjoyed watching the process. It took a cast iron stomach to listen to some of the sounds the inductee made while under the machine.

  I lay down for a bit, opening my eyes several hours later as Ella shook my shoulder. Her eyes were bloodshot and her hair a bit disheveled. She almost seemed half-crazy and kept blinking too much.

  Sitting up, I asked, “Is he ready?”

  She slumped into a nearby chair, running a hand through her hair.

  “I like how you ask first if I’m okay,” she said.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “No.”

  I nodded. “Is the Lokhar ready?”

  “Maybe.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “I need better than that.”

  “I know. But he’s as good as you’re going to get from me.”

  “Was he conditioned against the mind machine?”

  Ella gave me a searching look. “You’ve changed.”

  “It’s been ten years.”

  “No. It’s more than that. You’re different. You used to have more compassion—”

  “I hate the Lokhars, especially those belonging to Purple Tamika.”

  “More compassion for your own people,” Ella finished.

  That brought me up short. Was she right? Had I changed after eight years of working alone? I used to run the assault troopers. They’d been my people, my responsibility.

  I rubbed my forehead. “Look, Ella, this is big and bad and vicious. I don’t have time to soothe e
very hurt.”

  She searched my face. “Is it big or is this about Jennifer?”

  It took me a few seconds before I asked, “Have you been in contact with Diana?”

  Ella shrugged noncommittally.

  “Yeah,” I said, a moment later. “This is about Jennifer. I’m—” I wasn’t sure what to say next.

  “You’re more driven,” Ella told me, as if seeing something new. “Is this about you leaving Jennifer behind on the portal planet?”

  I opened my mouth, and for once, my cockiness deserted me. “I wanted to go back for her,” I said, the words sounding plaintive to my ears. I hated that.

  “I know,” Ella said, gently. “You made the hard choice, the right choice. I suppose that’s one of the perks of command. You get to carry the weight of your choices.”

  I said nothing.

  “What’s Jennifer like these days?” Ella asked.

  “No different from when she was with Abaddon.”

  “Why did she go to the Plutonians?”

  “Diana guessed it. Jennifer wants to destroy what I love. So she’s busy destroying herself and the human race.”

  “Can we defeat these Plutonians?”

  “If we raid Acheron—”

  “That’s the name of this legendary planet?”

  I nodded. “If we raid Acheron and get the tech that’s there.”

  “Guaranteed win?” Ella asked.

  “There’s never a guarantee in battle, just better odds.”

  Ella thought about that, grimacing afterward.

  “I don’t know what to tell you about the Ambassador,” she said. “He has greater willpower than Doctor Sant ever had. Partly it’s because Count Loris’s mind is more devious, which makes the machine’s changes harder to predict. The Ambassador might slip his leash at the wrong time.”

  “We need him, Ella. We need him so we can grab the Lokhar heavy cruisers. They’re hidden somewhere nearby.”

  “I don’t know where they are, but I do know they’re rigged to self-destruct if we approach them wrong.”

  “Do you know how many the Ambassador has?”

  “Six.”

 

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