Star Raider

by Vaughn Heppner

  “I want to remain human,” Tanner said.

  “I am the master here,” the Web Mind said. “It is only my will that matters. Your will is meaningless. You will soon understand this much better than you could ever conceive.”

  The first cyborg reached for Tanner. The centurion stepped in toward it, swinging his monofilament blade. The knife-edge one molecule in thickness, easily sliced through the titanium body parts and granite muscles. In a thrice, he chopped up the three cyborgs, dismembering them. Each of the parts clanked heavily onto the rock floor.

  When Tanner was finished with them, he found himself shaking with dread. He sheathed the knife and heard a thud. He whirled around and found Acton beside him.

  The two dragged the cyborg nullifier to the landed sled. As more cyborgs began striding toward them, the two huffed and puffed, straining to get the heavy nullifier onto the gravity sled.

  As they struggled, a curious phenomenon began. Forces of power that stretched toward the Triangulum Galaxy began to dim. The web of energy up in the passage started shrinking toward the Web Mind and its interstellar transporter machines.

  “Push,” Tanner grunted. “Push before the cyborgs get here.”

  Acton pushed. Then a croaking cry escaped the Shand’s throat. He shoved harder, and the nullifier lifted as they tumbled it onto the gravity sled.

  Man and Shand climbed aboard the purring disc.

  “Help me right it,” Acton said.

  Tanner threw himself at the nullifier, shoving, straining so sweat popped onto his forehead. Slowly, the heavy unit tipped upright.

  Acton stood, inspecting it.

  Tanner glanced at the approaching cyborgs, around fifty of them. He couldn’t chop up that many quickly enough. He drew his blaster.

  “Put that away,” Acton said. The Shand knelt beside the nullifier and began manipulating bizarre controls. His long fingers moved fast. Suddenly, the nullifier began to hum, to vibrate.

  Tanner saw the cyborgs freeze. A few were off-balance because they’d just raised a leg. Most of those toppled onto the rocky floor.

  Acton rose with a grunt, staggering to the sled’s controls. He worked the panel and they began to rise.

  “Why didn’t we do that sooner?” Tanner wheezed.

  “The nullifier has to be on the instrument you wish to keep working,” Acton said. “Otherwise, we would have put the sled in the stasis field, too.”

  Now, the sled shuddered as it lifted faster, gaining speed.

  At the same time, gauzy lines of power sped toward the Web Mind’s transporter machines. Looking up, Tanner spied a vast hole. No more motes floated up there, just normal Planet Zero air.

  “Is the interstellar transporter off?” Tanner asked.

  “For the moment,” Acton said. “Soon, the nullifier will be out of range. The Web Mind will begin to think and act again. It will likely begin waking all the cyborgs on the planet.”

  “Do the cyborgs have spaceships hidden down here?”

  “I deem that very likely,” Acton said.

  “And the Web Mind now controls the orbital missiles, right?”

  “It seems more than possible, especially given its words a few minutes ago.”

  “Where does that leave us?” Tanner asked. “We haven’t stopped the menace at all. Two Phazes are up there. Can the Web Mind kill them?”

  “I doubt that.”

  “So what’s the plan?” Tanner shouted. “I don’t want to have done all this for nothing.”

  “We have temporarily broken the star bridge between galaxies. That will harm any incubating Phazes, as it will keep their intellects from crossing over and joining their energy bodies.”

  “Provided we find a way to destroy the interstellar transporter forever,” Tanner said.

  “That is correct.”

  Tanner rubbed his face, feeling useless.

  “Don’t forget you’ve already slain two Phazes. It appears that only four have fully incubated.”

  “Okay, okay,” Tanner said. “That’s right. That’s good to remember. Where did the last two go to?”

  Acton looked upward as the sled continued to climb. “That, my friend, is what we’re attempting to find out.”

  -52-

  Ursa sat at the controls of the Dark Star. The centurion and the Shand had been gone for days. She hadn’t heard a thing from them, not one peep. Surely, the two were dead.

  Greco had thought otherwise until this morning, a subjective ship-time morning. What did a hairy apeman know about such things anyway? No orbital missiles had stirred. No Old Federation sensors had turned around. No orbital laser missiles had activated. The gravity sled had disappeared into a giant hole. That had been the last she’d seen of Tanner and Acton as she’d watched on the scope.

  After that, the days went by in lonely orbits as the Dark Star circled Planet Zero.

  Greco hadn’t come out of his room today. No doubt, he mourned the captain. Her brother Marcus was in a funk, brooding, lying on his bed with an arm across his eyes. Vulpus had caught the mood. The underman frowned as he rolled dice. He and Lupus used to gamble hour after hour. After Lupus had died, Vulpus had played for the two of them. Now, the underman didn’t even keep score.

  This was too much, too bitter. What was she supposed to do now? This had been the big plan. Not only had they failed, but how long would it be before cyborgs and Phazes boiled out in a tide of conquest, starting at their end of the galaxy.

  What is my responsibility?

  Sure, she could watch the Coalition being ground into dust. That would be something. Yet, would it feel good as Coalition soldiers turned into cyborgs? Somehow, she doubted that. Maybe it was time to sink their differences with social unity. Remus might have to join in a Grand Crusade against the Phaze-run cyborgs.

  To that end, Ursa had debated for days about what to do with the approaching Doom Star. The giant battlewagon braked hard now. It would be in orbit in less than an hour. Should she make contact with their commander? Should she try to convince them that all humanity was at stake? Could she get the Coalition people to scour the planet, to burn away as many cyborgs as possible?

  Why had the Doom Star come in so fast? Why had the rest of the Coalition fleet stayed far behind at the edge of the star system? Did the Doom Star hunt their raider? Or did the Coalition people know more? Maybe they came to grab cyborg equipment. Could they be so stupid as to land on the planet?

  Ursa kept rubbing her hands together, trying to figure out the best move. It’s all up to me. I’m the one. I have to make the right decision. I just wish I knew what it was.

  She frowned at the comm. Several times now, she’d reached out to tap the controls to hail the vast Doom Star. The gigantic battlewagon daunted her. How had the Coalition people figured out how to run it? She’d heard Admiral May attempt to communicate with the Doom Star. As far as Ursa could tell, the people on the Old Federation battlewagon hadn’t answered their own admiral.

  That had given Ursa pause. It meant something, she was sure of that. She just couldn’t figure out what that something was.

  Ursa kept rubbing her hands together. As she had many times before, she tore her hands apart, using one to rub the scowl lines out of her forehead. If she frowned too much, the lines would remain. She didn’t want lines. She wanted smooth features, pretty features.

  I should have kissed Tanner. Why didn’t I? Why am I always so shy?

  She scoffed at herself. Kisses didn’t matter at a time like this. Kisses meant nothing at the end of everything. Ursa frowned and began rubbing her hands again. Maybe kisses meant everything at the end.

  She reached out. She had to call the Doom Star—

  Ursa Varus blinked in surprise. The scope blinked. She saw something on it. After all these days, was this them? Had Tanner and Acton made it after all?

  Ursa began tapping furiously. She studied the scope. Her features fell a second later. That wasn’t Tanner. It wasn’t even the sled. It was two energy blips. It
was two—

  “Energy,” she said. “Are those Phazes?”

  Suddenly alert and frightened, with her heart beginning to jackhammer, Ursa studied the scope more carefully. If those weren’t Phazes, they would have to be plasma blasts. She couldn’t see any discharge mechanism on the surface, though.

  Her heart beat faster yet. The energy blips rocketed upward. They came straight for the Dark Star.

  Ursa moaned in dread. What did that mean? Why would Phazes attack the raider? Did it—

  Her eyes widened. The blips separated. One still headed here. The other—

  She tapped the scope. The other one headed out on an intercept course for the Doom Star. Why did the Phaze do that?

  Ursa tapped the comm, opening intra-ship communications. “This is an emergency,” she said. “A Phaze is heading toward us. I have no idea what I should do. Please, Marcus, please, Greco, I need some help to figure this out.”

  ***

  Ursa sat transfixed. She felt a pressure against her head. She almost thought she heard something in her mind. If she listened very carefully—

  “Patrician, what did you say?”

  Slowly, Ursa turned. Greco stared at her from the hatch. He seemed far away. He seemed—

  Ursa forced herself to blink. She didn’t know what was wrong with her, but something was.

  Greco stepped forward, grabbing her shoulders with his hairy paws for hands. He shook her gently. “Can you hear me, Patrician? You called on the comm.”

  “Phazes,” Ursa heard herself say. “They’re coming.”

  “You’ve seen them?”

  “Look,” Ursa said, indicating the scope.

  Greco let go of her, stepping around. He froze as if frightened.

  “What’s wrong?” Ursa said. She turned too, and she saw it then through the port window. A blazing comet-thing headed straight for the Dark Star. She saw it outside the ship. She sensed it watching her, and she sensed rage, incredible rage.

  Ursa screamed and Greco hooted with terror. The Phaze came at them, hitting the port window and oozing through the glass. Ursa’s knees gave way. She crumpled onto the floor as the Phaze came through the port window and entered the Dark Star.

  Greco also fell away. Ursa heard the apeman thump down near her. Then, the Phaze was in the control room with them. She felt it turn and glance at her. It seemed to be studying her, maybe reading her mind.

  A moment of delight filled Ursa. The Phaze flew away, heading down a corridor.

  “What was that?” Greco croaked.

  “A Phaze,” Ursa said.

  “I know that,” Greco said. “I just sensed vast delight. Did you feel that, too?”

  “I did. The feeling must have come from the Phaze.”

  “That’s what I thought,” Greco said. “Why would the Phaze feel delight on our ship?”

  “The cyborg!” shouted Ursa. “Maybe it wants to possess something. Maybe it needs to get inside a machine thing like a cyborg. Did it read about Lacy in my thoughts?”

  “We’re doomed,” Greco said.

  “No,” Ursa said, “maybe not.”

  ***

  The patrician of House Varus ran down a corridor. She shouted for Vulpus. She hoped she was in time. She had never expected it to come down to this.

  Greco spoke through the intra-ship comm. He was alerting Marcus. An enemy creature was inside the ship. It seemed the Phaze was heading for Lacy’s room.

  Ursa heard metal groan and shriek. The pit of her stomach twisted. This reminded her of the day her uncle died. She had to face her own lion today instead of shrieking in terror as her family and friends died.

  Ursa slid to a halt. Oh, no, this was sick and terrifying. The cyborg lurched down the corridor. Rotted flesh dripped from it. How was that thing moving?

  It turned. The eyes glowed with an eerie color. The cyborg raised an arm with a rotted, metallic finger pointing at her.

  “Name,” the cyborg said.

  Ursa shivered. She realized a creature from another galaxy spoke to her. What did it want?

  “Ursa Varus,” she told it.

  “This,” the cyborg, or the Phaze inside it said. “This one is crippled.”

  Ursa nodded. She was horrified to be having this conversation.

  “You…obey me,” the thing said.

  Ursa found herself nodding. She couldn’t help it. Yes, she could feel the Phaze crawling inside her mind, touching levers, as it were.

  That’s when Vulpus hit the thing from the side. The underman clubbed it with his baton. The cyborg staggered, but that was it. Vulpus howled, beating at the cyborg head, making it bend to the side at each blow.

  Before Ursa could warn the underman, the cyborg got its hands on him. With a wrench, the cyborg cranked Vulpus’s head to one side. Then, the thing slammed the underman against a bulkhead. It did so three times, finally dropping the dying Vulpus onto the decking.

  “What are you?” Ursa screamed. She shook her fists at it. Tears flowed freely. It had killed Vulpus. It was a monster.

  “Quiet,” the thing told her.

  “No!” Ursa shouted. Finally, she remembered the code words, the one she had put in the cyborg’s head after waking up alone during the hyperspace journey. Ursa shouted the code words at the thing.

  Those horrible shining eyes blinked at her. A second later, the cyborg lurched toward her, the eyes burning more brightly.

  “What did you say?” the cyborg asked.

  Ursa stepped back, wondering why it wasn’t working Maybe the Phaze had fixed her damage. Maybe—

  The cyborg croaked horribly. It shuddered. The head lifted. The mouth opened. Then, the cyborg body smashed against the left bulkhead. A moment later, it struck the other bulkhead. It was as if the cyborg had forgotten how to walk. It tried to focus on her. Then, it fell face first and began to shudder and writhe as if in terrible agony.

  As that happened, the Phaze oozed out of the cyborg. It expanded into its comet shape and size. How had the thing squeezed inside the cyborg in the first place?

  The comet shape had orange lines zigzagging through it. The process of leaving the now dead cyborg seemed to have troubled it.

  The Phaze, seemed to focus on Ursa. Slowly, it drifted after her as if to hurt her badly.

  Ursa turned around with a start and sprinted away from the trailing Phaze.

  Now began a strange set of circumstances. Ursa ran. The Phaze followed. Ursa ran harder, panting. The comet shape gained speed. Finally, Ursa reached the control room. Greco sat at the controls. The apeman trembled as if he watched a ghost chase the patrician.

  “The gun, the gun,” Ursa shrieked.

  Even as the apeman continued to shiver, Greco turned around, tapping controls. At the last second, he dove onto the floor.

  It seemed as if the Phaze charged them. Yet, it also seemed as if it wasn’t in full control of itself. Perhaps being in a dying machine thing hurt or dazed a Phaze. How that could be, Ursa had no idea. She had felt the thing’s rambling accusations against her, though. That’s what had given her the idea. She remembered what Acton had told Tanner. Only a few kinds of weapons would hurt these other-galaxy beings. Centurion Tanner wore one on his hip. Notable Magnus Shelly had installed another into the Dark Star.

  Ursa rolled to a halt against the controls. She had dove onto the floor. Greco had also ducked. They both saw the comet thing, the Phaze, glide over them. As easily as if moving through a curtain of falling water, the energy creature passed through the front of the ship. It kept going in space.

  “Now!” Ursa screamed. “We have to do it now.”

  Greco was up, but he shook too horribly to do anything. In agony, he looked at Ursa.

  She sat in a seat, targeted the Phaze.

  Maybe it understood its danger at the last moment.

  Let us bargain, Ursa Varus. You are a great lady. I am very impressed with you. I will make you the greatest bargain in the universe. You will be amazed.

  “Die!” U
rsa said, as she tapped the firing control.

  A beam lanced, hitting the Phaze. Ursa heard screaming in her mind. It caused her to shiver, but she kept her finger on the tab.

  The beam burned long enough. The comet-shaped Phaze exploded into a scintillating shower of multicolored motes. It was amazing, beautiful and meant this Phaze, at least, was dead and gone.

  -53-

  Clack Urbis knew a new and powerful sense of rightness. The Doom Star approached the wonderful planet of promise. He sensed a grand and glorious purpose building in him, and he felt that most of the rest of the crew did as well.

  There were a few holdouts in the crew. One could tell by the stooped way they walked. They were constantly glancing over their shoulder in a sneaky manner. Propulsion did that even now. She was here on the bridge with him.

  Clack smiled behind his hand as he watched her. It seemed obvious that she was a secret admirer of Admiral May. No doubt, the woman kept a dairy, jotting down notes that she hoped someday to hand to Admiral “Hatchet.” Only—that day—would never come. Clack believed that more than he believed in social unity.

  A pang of unease touched him. Something could be better to him than social unity? That seemed…

  The secret smile slipped as he lowered the shielding hand. That was an odd thought. He’d grown up in the crèches. He had gone to every hum-a-long held by his hall leaders. In school, he’d received high marks for his correct thinking. In fact, he was a zealous defender of the Party and an upholder of the Chairman’s rule. Thus, to think the planet, a dull ball of sand, rock and hidden cyborg treasures, should be more important than social unity was heresy of the rankest sort. He should be the last person to think it.

  Clack rubbed his neck. Was something wrong with him? He glanced around the bridge at the others. They worked their controls urgently. He’d hardly ever seen them work harder. Why were they being so diligent?

  The interrogator prime frowned, rubbing his neck harder. He loved social unity. Mass humanity needed guidance. That was a pure truth. Left to himself, man was a destroyer, a glutton that forgot his neighbor in order to stuff his own pie hole. Social unity made certain everyone thought and acted together for the good of the greatest number of people. That was right. That was good. That was wholesome.