by T. R. Harris
“The Klin do not wish the leadership of the galaxy in order to rule it, Adam Cain. We wish only for justice, a reckoning for what happened to us long ago. As a consequence, we do not wish to become part of the community of civilizations. We wish to be a civilization unto ourselves, and without the fear of extermination we have lived with for so long.” Cannin sat up in his chair, feeling Adam was missing the point. “The Klin do not feel we have a better way of governing or answers for all the concerns of ten thousand unique races throughout the galaxy. We do not care about the other races. We have nothing in common with them.
“Granted, at another time, when we had to use surrogate races in our Grand Plan, we had to mirror the ambitions of others. So many species in the galaxy wish nothing more than to lord over others. Now that the Klin have the means to subdue an entire galaxy without the help of others, we do not have to concede to the greed and insecurity of partner races. In an ideal future, there would be no beings other than Klin. It would be a simpler, more peaceful galaxy if that were the case.”
“So when all this is done, you expect to be the last species standing?”
“That is a very good way to describe it, as I would expect from a Human. Then you understand?”
“I didn’t say that.” Adam moved closer to the alien; Cannin didn’t seem the least bit threatened, not with the two AN-9s standing guard. “Hey, I’m the last one to criticize you for hating aliens,” Adam said. “I’ve made a career out of it. But I also don’t advocate going around killing everyone just because they’re in my way. All you’ll do with this new strategy of yours is piss off a lot of people.”
“My translation device is the most-advanced in the galaxy, so I understand your slang expression.” Cannin dismissed Adam’s concerns with another casual wave of his hand. “The welfare of other races is of no concern to the Klin. Perhaps if we had not been so callously dismissed by the galaxy, we might feel differently. But even while it was the Juireans who betrayed us and destroyed Klinmon, it was the rest of the galaxy who helped the evil aliens keep us running and hiding for all these years. We owe the galaxy nothing but our scorn.”
Cannin noticed powerful beams of light streaking out to destroy the attacking ships. He smiled.
“The world below is now to become the first world in a long line of such to be effectively sterilized by the Klin. And you, the great Adam Cain, will witness it firsthand.”
A large monitor on the portside of the bridge came to life. It showed a launch bay, not the one with the Tobias in it, but another filled completely with the four-foot-square boxes that were the AN-9 robots. Conveyor belts on the deck were moving huge stacks of the boxes to the open bay portal—and dumping them into space. Adam knew this was happening in all six launch bays, launching millions of the killer robots toward the planet below.
Adam turned a questioning face to Cannin.
“They will freefall for most of the way to the surface,” the alien explained. “Their exteriors are made of a titanium composite that can withstand the intense temperature. Parachutes will then deploy thirty seconds before landing. The AN-9s will be fully functional and ready for action before reaching the surface.”
“That’s why you didn’t have any shuttles or other landing craft in the landing bays.”
“That are not required.”
“What about recovery?”
Cannin shook his head. “There will be no recovery. Subsequent invasions will be with new units. The AN-9s on Anbor-Namin will continue to fight until they can no longer locate adequate recharging facilities and their batteries run dry. However, they can operate at maximum level for six days, even without recharge. They are also designed to utilize a multitude of various charging options to extend their operational life. As you see, we have thought of everything.”
“Well, not quite everything.”
Though his ATD, Adam flicked the kill switch in the two AN-9s near the elevator doors, effectively blinding the killer robots. At the same time he felt his mutant powers kick in. He moved to Cannin and took him by the throat, lifting him effortlessly from the command chair.
The alien was shocked. He struggled against Adam’s grip, all the while glancing at his silent sentries.
“Call off the attack, Cannin,” Adam growled. “Call it off or another Klin dies…namely you.”
“I cannot call it off,” the alien choked his reply. “It is all run automatically.”
“Bullshit. The Klin are too much into control of everything. You’re not about to let a bunch of machines have all the fun.”
“How…how?” Cannin stammered.
“Like I said, you didn’t plan for—”
It was only though Adam’s uncanny and enhanced situational awareness that he noticed one of the AN-9s turn toward him. It was the first movement either robot had made since he flicked off their brains.
Adam threw Cannin to his left, just as a tight red laser beam emerged from the robot. The beam was aimed at Adam’s heart, but it punched through Cannin’s right leg instead. This gave Adam time to mentally enter the AN-9 and flick the switch again.
Cannin was screaming from the pain, sitting on the floor, holding his leg and rocking back and forth. There was no blood, since the heat of the laser had cauterized the wound.
“Relax, you’ll be okay,” Adam barked over the wailing of the alien. His eyes were locked on the second AN-9. He had the five minute countdown set on the first one, but the other one could come alive at any moment.
There, a tiny vibration of the boxy torso. Adam entered the brain and flicked the metaphorical switch. Now both robots would be harmless for four minutes twenty-nine seconds and counting, according to Adam’s enhanced mental clock.
He turned back to the whiny alien.
“Shut up!” Adam ordered. “You’re acting like you’ve never been shot by a laser before. Trust me, you’ll get used to it.” Adam thought back many years ago when he’d been shot by a color-shifting alien on a planet he couldn’t even remember the name of anymore. He hoped he hadn’t been such a little pussy about it back then, not like Cannin was being now.
“You are insane, Human!” the alien yelled. “You can do nothing to stop the attack or damage this ship. It will function even if you kill me.”
Adam had had about all of the Klin he could handle “Oh, really?” he said, raising his eyebrows. “Let’s find out.”
A moment later, Adam let the limp body of Senior Fellow Cannin slump to the deck. “You’re welcome,” he said. At least now the alien wasn’t in pain any longer. Adam had done his good deed for the day.
Adam checked his mental clock. He had two minutes before the first robot would come back to life. He rushed into the elevator. At this point, time was his new enemy.
31
The damn Klin warship didn’t have stairwells, only elevators. Adam hated elevators, at least on a tactical level. Once inside and shooting along, he scanned the ship for the location of the other AN-9s. To his surprise, there were only eight left on the ship, after millions had been dumped on the suspecting planet below.
Using his enhanced brain power, he mentally pulled up a schematic of the ship and plotted the location of the killer robots. He was relieved to find that none were guarding the prisoners. Yet there was a small cluster between the guest quarters and the landing bay where the Tobias was stored. That could be a problem. He tried to figure another away in, but it seemed the robots knew the layout of the ship, too, and had blocked the only access to the hangar.
Arieel, can you hear me?
Yes! I am here. Are you well? I sensed it when you were taken away. I feared for your life.
So did I, Adam admitted. But for an update, Cannin is dead and the planet we’re orbiting is under attack by the robots.
The Klin is dead, and the attack continues?
Yeah, it’s all run automatically. There’s no way to recall the robots. At this point, all we can do is get off the ship before the robots learn of Cannin’s death and come lo
oking for us. I need you to unlock the doors and get the team to a place I’ll convey to you mentally.
Of course. I can detect you moving throughout the ship. We will meet you at the designated location.
Thanks. I’ll let you know if I detect any of the AN-9s coming your way. See you soon.
Adam was sure that as soon as the two robots on the bridge regained their awareness, they would notice their dead leader and send out the alert. The one thing—the only thing, really—Adam had going for him was that the ship was originally designed to carry Klin, and only Klin. Because of this, there was very little internal security aboard. Unless the AN-9’s can track him by his heat signature, there were no security cameras to record his movement.
Adam was controlling the elevator with his ATD, moving it along to a point close to where Arieel was leading the team. He reached it without incident, and a few moments later reunited with his friends. There was no time for pleasantries.
“Down this corridor and to the left are a pair of AN-9 sentries guarding the entrance to the landing bay. We have to take them out.”
“I thought they couldn’t be taken out?” Copernicus said. This was the first physical contact Adam had had with him in nine days, since he’d remained locked in the room with Arieel for the duration of the trip. But Arieel had kept him up to date. She had also told Sherri, Riyad, Jym and Kaylor what was going on.
“There is a way.”
“You can disable their awareness sensors,” Arieel offered, stealing some of Adam’s thunder.
“You can? That’s great,” said Sherri.
Adam grimaced. “It’s not that simple. They can repair the damage at just about any time, so they require constant monitoring to catch them just as they come back online. But there’s another way, a more permanent solution.”
“That is even better news,” said Kaylor. He and Jym had been kept in the dark for the bulk of the trip to Anbor-Namin and were only now learning what they were up against.
Adam looked at his blue-skinned friend. He placed a hand on the alien’s shoulder. “Yeah, it is great. However, I’m going need you and Jym to give me a hand.”
Jym recoiled in fear, backing away and pressing his small body against the metal wall of the corridor.
“Not literally, Jym,” Adam barked impatiently. “Damn, I thought by now you’d understand Human-speak better.”
“There is no need to be rude, Adam,” replied the alien. “Just a statement like that coming from Human, I can never be sure.”
Adam sighed. “All right, this is the plan.” The team huddled up. “AN-9’s have flash weapons, and they’ve been programmed to use them against the majority of species in the galaxy, including our two friends here. As you know, I can disable the firing circuits in the weapons, causing an overload and a pretty sizable explosion. I figure that should be enough to permanently disable the robot.”
Kaylor cut right to the chase. “That would require the weapons to be in use at the time.”
“Exactly.”
“Firing…at us?” Jym added.
“Exactly.”
Now the fear really took hold of the small Falqin bear. “Then you must provide us with protection, armor.”
The new grimace on Adam’s face didn’t help his sales job. “The problem with that is the robots will detect the armor and select another weapon system with more power.”
“I will do it,” Arieel announced, stepping forward, while proudly throwing out her ample chest. “I am of the class that is susceptible to flash bolts. I will draw their fire.”
“I can’t let you do that. I need your abilities with your brain interface device.”
“You cannot allow her to volunteer…because she can be killed, just like us!” Jym reasoned.
“Trust me, Jym” Adam said. “Have I ever allowed anything to kill you before?”
Kaylor looked askew at Adam, while Jym appeared lost in thought.
“Okay, we will do it,” Kaylor said.
Jym looked up at him. “We will?”
The Belsonian placed a reassuring hand on his friend’s shoulder. “As he said, he hasn’t gotten us killed yet.”
“It only takes once,” said Jym. His shoulders slumped as he surrendered to the inevitable.
With that out of the way, Adam led the two aliens down the corridor to where it met with another cross hallway. “The robots are in that large open area where we first met the Klin. As soon as you step into the intersection, they’ll see you. Run down the corridor to the right, letting the AN-9s keep you in sight. I’ll be inside their systems and ready to act as soon as they…well, you know.”
“Stay focused, Adam,” Kaylor advised. “It is our lives at risk.”
“And very special lives they are.” He placed hands on the shoulders of his alien friends. “Okay, get ready. I’ll give you the word.”
Jym looked back at Adam in a panic. “What…oh.”
Adam pursed his lips and shook his head. “All right…go.”
The two aliens followed his instructions. They entered the intersection of the corridors, stopped and turned to look toward the landing bay foyer.
The two boxy robots were about forty feet away. Their bodies had to spin around to bring the flash weapons to bear. Kaylor and Jym turned and ran away in the opposite direction.
Adam had the firing circuits identified. Now he severed the connections. A moment later it happened.
The normally square torsos of the AN-9s bulged out, forming near-spheres atop the running tracks. Several side panels on both robots burst out and the domes on top shot upward, smashing into the overhead and shattering in a thousand pieces. Flame and smoke erupted like geysers from various opening in both machines and the attachments that had not been blown off fell limp to the sides of the deformed metal balls.
Adam stepped out from behind the corridor wall and smiled down the hallway at his handiwork. He turned toward Kaylor and Jym twenty feet farther down the corridor.
“That worked—”
The explosions were incredible, originating in the foyer area and sending a wave of heat, fire and concussion racing through the confined space of the corridor. Once again, Adam’s enhance mutant powers saved him. The blast hit him in the back, burning clothing and flesh and throwing him forward.
He was at Kaylor and Jym a moment later. The aliens were spared most of the effects of the explosions, partly from distance, partly by the shield formed by Adam’s charred body.
As the dust settled, the rest of Adam’s team rushed to his aid, and to that of Kaylor and Jym. Adam was on his belly on the still baking-hot deck, half of his body naked and covered in black blisters. Coop and Riyad helped him to his feet.
After having his clothes blown off on the nameless Nuorean planet, he’d dressed himself with new garments after boarding the Tobias. Now his backless and smoldering shirt fell to the deck, along with the front of his pants. This time, not much survived, not even his shoes.
Copernicus helped him out. He took off his shirt and offered it to Adam.
Sherri and Arieel shared a glance at each other; Coop’s six-pack abs and light covering of black hair on his chest was nothing to sneeze at.
For his part, Adam took the shirt, and instead of putting in on conventionally, he took the long sleeves and tied them around his waist, covering his private parts as best he could. An awkward moment passed between members of the team.
“Are you all right?” Sherri asked, breaking the silence and stepping up to look at Adam’s rapidly healing back. Arieel and Riyad had moved to Kaylor and Jym to check on them.
“Yeah, I’ll be fine. How are my two friends?”
Arieel looked up at him. “They are fine, only a few superficial burns. Was that supposed to happen?” she asked, referring to the major blast that had ripped the corridor to shreds. Metal walls were buckled and crunched like an accordion, while electric wires sparked and water dripped from broken pipes in the overhead.
“They must have had some
self-destruct mechanism,” Copernicus surmised.
Adam turned to survey the damage. “This will attract the other AN-9s. There are still six of them onboard.”
“It’ll take some effort getting through that,” Copernicus noted, pointing down the hallway.
“We’ll have to,” Adam said. “It’s the only way to the landing bay. Let’s hurry. The robots are coming.”
32
Five minutes later the team was in the shattered foyer outside the landing bay. Despite the damage and his near-death, Adam was relieved to learn that the AN-9s could be destroyed. That would help with his future planning…if he had a future.
The team stared through the huge observation window in the landing bay control room. The control center had been built to sustain the force of an out of control starship entering the bay and had therefore come through the explosions relatively unscathed. But what had the team staring in stunned silence down into the huge chamber…was the sight of the A.C. Tobias—Adam’s obscenely expensive luxury starship—lying in pieces on the deck of the landing bay.
The robots had made mincemeat of the ship, using lasers to slice it into dozens of pieces.
But Adam didn’t have time to lament the death of his ship. The other AN-9s were closing in. He contacted the Rutledge through his ATD.
“Nolan, where are you.”
The Marine officer sounded perturbed when he answered within Adam’s mind. “Where would we be? Still stuck on the ass of the ship. We tried to get inside after all those boxes got dumped, but the doors closed before we could do anything.”
“You’re lucky. But now we’re going to open the doors. Get in as soon as you can. Some of those killer robots are on their way and they have lasers that can cut the Rutledge to shreds.”
“And you want us to come inside?”
“That’s right, Colonel. Now get ready.”
Adam looked at the control panel for the huge bay doors. There was a bulky gray-metal module blocking where the controls would normally be accessed.
“Jym, can you get the doors to work?”
