by Doug Farren
Tom and Lashpa glanced at each other. In an instant they knew that the other was beginning to believe Yonth’s story—with reservations.
“Imperial mind-ships are designed to be operated by a crew of five. It takes a majority vote of the crew to cause the ship to isolate an individual. The ship is also designed such that it cannot be operated by a single mind. We knew that as soon as Pualfin was no longer able to stay focused and remain engaged in the operation of the ship, Breetak would automatically be released from isolation even though he’d been declared a traitor.”
“How far did you travel?” Tom asked.
“The drugs available to the ship slowed Pualfin’s degeneration. We traveled for months, pushing the stardrive as hard as we dared. By the time Pualfin was nearing the end, we had traveled over 28,000 light years. We found this planet and buried the ship in lava from an active volcano. We then diverted the magma, allowing the lava covering the ship to cool. When we collapsed the shield, the ship was encased in a layer of basalt. Pualfin died four months after we arrived. Even though I was trapped on an alien world with a fanatic I was glad to be free and disconnected myself from the ship.”
“That means Breetak is stranded here,” Lashpa said.
“For the moment,” Yonth said. “Breetak has found a way to eventually replace me.”
“The shavrath!” Tom exclaimed. “That’s why he’s been manipulating their DNA.”
“Correct. Breetak believes he is destined to rebuild the empire using a race of people who will believe he is a god. He has accelerated the shavrath’s evolutionary path for this purpose. He is quite insane.”
“I’ll say,” Tom agreed.
“Breetak has been trying to find a way to bypass the ship’s protocols so he can regain control of the ship. He’s been developing what I call a mind simulator. It’s a machine designed to simulate an active mind. I believe he’s close to getting it to work. After his failed experiments to connect a Chroniech mind to the ship, he’s been spending almost all of his free time on building the machine.”
“He tried to hook a Chroniech up to the ship!” Tom said.
“He tried three times. All attempts failed. He had planned to try with a Rouldian but changed his mind when you arrived. Your cerebral interface might allow him to activate the ship.”
“I don’t believe that is possible,” Lashpa said. “Our internal computers would most likely block the attempt.”
“Breetak is desperate,” Yonth replied. “He is also quite skilled. I am not familiar with your systems but there is a good chance he might succeed.”
“If the ship needs two minds to function, how was Breetak able to attack our ships?” Lashpa asked.
“The ship will defend itself against a perceived attack. All Breetak had to do was designate your ships as hostile. This gave him control of the combat drone and the ship’s other weapons. He is building more drones that will not be restricted in the actions they are allowed to take.”
“Why help us now?” Tom asked. “Why didn’t you step in and help us earlier?”
“I am limited in what I can do,” Yonth replied. “If I had opened the interface between myself and the ship, Breetak would have been able to use more resources against you. He currently has control over all ship functions and can override any command I might give. As long as he believes I am living in a self-generated virtual reality, I’m free to offer limited assistance.”
“How?” Tom demanded. “If you couldn’t help us in the past, then how can you help us now?”
“For the moment, I’m not sure how I can help,” Yonth admitted. “Breetak cannot be allowed to regain control of this ship. If he does, your Alliance will be unable to stop him. You should know that, if necessary, I will kill you to prevent him from using your brains.”
Lashpa looked at Tom. “We understand and appreciate your honesty. What do you suggest we do now?”
“I need to return this robot to Breetak’s control before he discovers what I’ve done. I will contact you again as soon as I can.”
The door slid open and the robot started to walk out of the room.
“Yonth,” Tom began. The robot paused in the passageway. “I’m curious, what did you look like before you were merged with the ship? Did you look like us?”
“I am a genetic construct specifically designed to interface with a mind ship. I was grown in a vat. I have never had a body.”
The door closed, cutting off all further questions.
“What do you think?” Tom asked Lashpa, using their private channel. “Do we trust him or is it a ruse by the Proprietor to gain our trust?”
“His story makes sense,” Lashpa replied. “It explains why the Proprietor never told us that any warship nearing the planet would be attacked. He wanted us to. It gave him a supply of material he’s now using to build more combat drones. I am inclined to believe Yonth.”
“That makes two of us,” Tom admitted.
“I’m sorry,” Lashpa said aloud, moving toward the back of the room as far away from Tom as she could. “I can’t hold myself any longer. I have to pee.”
Lashpa squatted and a thick stream of urine splattered on the steel floor. In a matter of seconds, the room reeked.
“Considering this ship was built to be crewed by a bunch of disembodied brains, I doubt it has anything resembling a bathroom,” Tom said, wrinkling his nose.
Chapter 24
Lashpa was in the process of closely examining the door of their cell when it suddenly slid open. A robot entered the room and shoved Lashpa aside. A second entered pushing a large machine in front of it. As soon as the second robot had cleared the door, it closed.
“What type of weapons have been deployed near my base?” the Proprietor demanded. The first robot pointed one of its arms at Lashpa. “You will reply.”
Lashpa debated answering and decided the Proprietor probably already knew the answer. “They’re called hunter-killers. They’re armed with a 30 megaton thermonuclear warhead.”
“Identify their primary use.”
“They’re normally used to hunt down and kill enemy ships.”
“I wouldn’t get too close to one,” Tom said. “They’re probably programmed to detonate if- - -”
The robot nearest him took a step forward and raised its arm. The computer built into Tom’s suit interpreted the action as a prelude to an attack and automatically reacted. His visor dropped down to protect the fleshy parts of his face. The power restrictions of his arms and legs were removed and the computer took partial control of his cybernetics.
Tom found himself bending backward at the waist as his knees bent. His right arm moved far faster than he himself could have moved it to block the robot’s arm. The impact of metal on metal sounded like a gunshot.
The Proprietor’s robot lowered its arm. “Impressive. Your cybernetics are not always under your control.” The robot turned and pointed to a spot on the floor near the machine. “You will be first. Stand here.”
Tom issued a mental command canceling combat mode. He followed it up with another that temporarily disabled automatic initiation of combat mode. “Why?” he asked, as his visor retracted. “What is that?”
The robot moved and a laser drew a line across Tom’s legs just above the knee. It left a mark but wasn’t set strong enough to penetrate more than just the surface of the armor.
“I would prefer to keep you intact,” the Proprietor said. “But if need be, I will dismantle you and scan the pieces. You are a prisoner of war and you will follow my commands without hesitation. Do you understand?”
Tom walked over to the machine and stopped. “I understand. I also still believe there is still hope for a peaceful resolution to all this.”
An arm extended from the machine and approached the top of Tom’s head. “I attempted such negotiations earlier. The result was an attack against me. The only terms I will now accept will be the total withdrawal of all forces from my system. As long as I am left alone, you will be all
owed to continue living. If your people attack again, you will experience a very long and painful death. I have transmitted my terms to your people. So far, they have ignored my demands.”
The probe began slowly moving along the top of Tom’s skull.
“We have ordered the fleet to destroy this base using any means necessary,” Lashpa said. “They will carry out those orders unless we countermand them. Talk to us. Let’s find a way to peacefully coexist.”
The robot whirled around and pointed its camera eyes at Lashpa. “You only want access to my superior technology. I have no need of you or your Alliance. This star system is under my control. My ship can easily obliterate any fleet you can assemble. I have been overly patient, but my patience is about to end. Order your fleet to leave and never return or I will use my ship to exterminate all life on Alliance-held planets until you agree to my terms.”
“Your threats do not intimidate us,” Tom said. “You will be defeated unless- - -”
The robot nearest the machine lifted its arm and fired. Tom felt a searing pain in his right shoulder as a powerful laser punched a hole through his armor at the joint. A red icon appeared in the air in front of him along with a small diagram indicating the extent of damage.
“I am done listening to your lies,” the Proprietor said. “I found the records of the Komodo Dragon in the storage units of the ship I captured. I know all about the Hess and the Kyrra. I know how limited your technology is compared to what I possess. Argue with me again and I will happily dismember you.”
The pain in Tom’s shoulder began to subside to a dull, throbbing ache as the computer in his chest released pain medication into his veins. Glancing at Lashpa, he could see that she was worried. He mouthed the words ‘I’m okay’ and she dipped her head in understanding.
Tom wasn’t too worried about his shoulder, hopefully, the damage could be repaired. What bothered him the most right now was the fact that the Proprietor had managed to extract a significant amount of data from the Paranuth’s data storage systems. The magnetic pulse that had crippled the ship had apparently not damaged the data as he had been hoped. Fortunately, all of the highly classified information was encrypted.
The machine’s probe slowly worked its way around Tom’s head carefully scanning every centimeter. At its current scan rate, Tom estimated it would take slightly more than an hour to scan his entire body. He also realized that it would probably discover the fact that there was a pulse pistol tucked away in each of his slightly over-sized thighs.
His exterior armor, some of the most resilient material known to Alliance science, blocked most methods of scanning. Even if a remote scanner could penetrate the armor, there was the remote possibility that the pistols could be mistaken for parts of his cybernetic systems. Tom, however, was sure that the sensitive probe now slowly scanning him would not be fooled.
“You have a rather sophisticated cerebral interface,” the Proprietor said.
The probe reached the top of his undamaged shoulder. It continued down until it reached the level of his waist at which point it stopped and retracted back into the machine.
“Stand against that wall,” one of the robots ordered, pointing to the wall at the back of the room.
Tom silently complied, stepping into the puddle of urine that both he and Lashpa had created.
The robot pointed at Lashpa. “You, come here.”
Lashpa stood up and awkwardly walked over to the scanning machine. Once again, the probe deployed and began scanning her head. Ten minutes later, it was retracted. The robots turned and left without another word. As soon as the door was closed, Tom walked over to Lashpa and laid his left hand against her chest. His right arm hung stiffly at his side, nothing more than a mass of metal in the shape of a human arm.
“I’m fine,” he assured her. “The laser hit my shoulder interface. Hurts like hell.”
“Let me see,” she insisted. After taking a close look at both the front and the back of his shoulder she said, “The beam entered just below and to the left of the joint and exited through the top of your shoulder. What do your diagnostics show?”
“The neural interface is damaged but the hardwire connection from the computer is still intact and functioning. The arm itself checks out. It’s been immobilized to prevent further tissue damage.”
“I don’t understand the Proprietor,” Lashpa said. “We’ve given him every chance imaginable to come to a peaceful agreement and he has refused every one of them. I don’t think he’s acting like a rational being.”
“Maybe being alive for centuries and living alone on this planet has damaged his psyche,” Tom replied. “I was hoping we could talk some sense into him. Guess I was wrong.”
The door opened revealing a small robot standing in the passageway. “We don’t have a lot of time,” Yonth’s voice issued from the speaker. “If you want to escape, you must follow me now.”
Chapter 25
Lashpa and Tom looked at each other then jumped into action. As soon as they were out of the room, the robot began moving. The two peacekeepers had to jog to keep up with the nimble little machine.
“Breetak is worried about the weapons your people have deployed at the base of the mountain,” Yonth explained as they raced down the passageway. “He’s realized he failed to consider a ground attack and is activating a number of heavy assault units to act as a ground-level defense network. As soon as he is able to do so, he will target those weapons and destroy them.”
“So the HKs will be able to breach his shield?” Tom asked.
“Unlikely,” Yonth replied. “The shield will hold and because it is anchored in solid rock, it will be able to absorb the kinetic energy as well. Your weapons, however, will destroy the two captured ships. He’s been using the material to build a fleet of combat drones. If the ships are destroyed, he will not be able to finish them.”
“Aren’t you taking a huge risk,” Tom asked. “If Breetak finds out we’re gone he might suspect you had something to do with it.”
“It’s a possibility—but one I’m willing to take.”
“Why don’t you just reconnect to your ship and stop Breetak?” Lashpa asked.
The robot paused at an intersection. They stood there in silence as two similar machines walked by, apparently oblivious to their presence.
“It’s not that simple,” Yonth said, as soon as the robots were out of sight. “To prevent conflicting commands, the ship’s control functions are designed to allow only one of the crew at a time to have control over each function. This can be overridden but it requires a crew of at least three. The ship is not designed to be operated by a single individual and its programming for this eventuality is inconsistent at best.”
They came to the end of the passageway and stepped into a large freight elevator that was waiting for them.
“Why don’t you wait until Breetak is asleep?” Tom asked.
“We don’t require sleep.”
“How are you going to get us out of here?” Lashpa asked.
“You will be riding on top of one of the assault units. I have enough control over the sensor feed to keep Breetak from detecting you. Once you’re outside the base, you’ll have to find your own way to safety. I will be monitoring the perimeter detection network and will alter the data to keep you from being spotted.”
“How are you able to do all this?” Tom asked.
The elevator door opened into a cavernous hangar. A huge machine walked by, its six massive legs thumping heavily on the steel deck. The legs were attached to a thick disk that supported its 10 meter diameter hemispherical body. A pair of heavy guns stuck out of the upper section.
“Those of us who crew the mind-ships are the result of decades of genetic research to create an entity that can simultaneously perform multiple tasks. Our minds are tightly integrated into the ship’s distributed computing network allowing us to become part of that network. I have voluntarily severed my connection with the ship’s higher functions which has tr
iggered a series of safeguards that are preventing Breetak from using the ship against your people. But I am still connected to many of the ship’s lower-level systems. I cannot take the time to explain any further. Follow me.”
Yonth dashed into the hangar, moving behind the machine that had just passed them. Another one was following only a couple of meters behind them.
“When the assault unit stops, it will squat down. You will have a few seconds to climb on one of the legs before the unit engages its drive and lifts off the deck.”
“Thank you,” Tom said.
The walking tank slowed as it waited its turn to leave the ship.
“This ship must be destroyed,” Yonth said. “Given your level of weapons technology, I don’t know how you will accomplish this. The weapons you used to destroy the combat drone will not penetrate this ship’s shield. You should also be aware that my ship’s weapons are at least 10 times more powerful than the weapons you used and there are eight operational gun turrets.”
“What about you?” Lashpa asked.
The assault unit in front of them stopped and began dropping to the ground.
“Go! And do as I ask.”
Tom and Lashpa ran towards the nearest leg. The ‘foot’ of each leg a large articulated assembly with six long ‘fingers’ that could be configured to provide a firm grip on almost any uneven surface. This arrangement gave the machine far more flexibility in the types of terrain it would be able to traverse than if it had been equipped with treads or wheels.
Tom used his powerful cybernetic legs to leap on top of the foot. He grabbed hold of one of the hydraulic cylinders with his good arm to steady himself then wrapped his legs around the cylinder. Lacking one of her rear legs, Lashpa was forced to use her arms and her front legs to climb up the foot. She was almost to the top when the machine silently lifted off. She got to the top and wrapped her arms around the nearest hydraulic cylinder.
