The Battle for Terra Two bw-2

by Stephen Ames Berry

  "What's that?" asked Hochmeister.

  "The cavalry, Admiral," said John as they joined the rush for the ladder.

  D'Trelna shook his head, disgusted. "Not even slowing it," he said, watching red fusion beams and silver missiles strike at the black ship. The beams were splashing harmlessly against it, the missiles drifting unexploded along the sphere's equator, engines dead. "Cease fire," he ordered.

  It was almost through the portal, a featureless black mass that filled the screen, only the drifting silver needles ofImplacable'% missiles providing contrast.

  "Message received on all bands," said K'Lana from the commstation.

  That brought D'Trelna out of his chair, staring at her. "What?"

  " 'Catch.' "

  "Catch?" He turned back to the screen, just as all ofImplacable''% missiles came alive, coming home on tails of pale blue fire.

  "Gunnery! Destruct those missiles!"

  "Negative response, Commodore."

  "Get us out of here, T'Lei."

  "Never make it," said K'Raoda, slamming in full reverse engines.

  "Humor me," said D'Trelna. Gripping the back of the command chair, he leaned forward, watching the screen.

  The black sphere's image shrank as they retreated. The missiles drew closer, then turned as one, heading away from Terra Two and the cruiser, driving in toward the sun.

  "Whatever else they are," said the commodore, "they're cruel.

  "Get us back on station," he ordered, taking his chair. "Gunnery, he's almost here. DestroyV'Tran's Glory."

  N'Trol began whistling a tune popular when they'd last put into Prime Base-"Upship and Home No More."

  "Commodore! Wajt!" K'Raoda transferred a fresh pickup to the screen. A brilliant speck of green was rising from Earth's nightside, growing nearer as they watched.

  "Gunnery. Countermand that destruct order.

  "What is that, T'Lei?"

  "The Maximus anomaly," said K'Raoda. He sent the targeting data flowing across the screen.

  "Star plasma," said N'Trol. "Nothing else stays that hot."

  "Headed right for us-and the portal," said D'Trelna. He studied the target projection. "Computer, assume us to be target of object approaching from planet. Give us standard audio count to impact.''

  "Acknowledged."

  "Is it after us or the portal?" said T'Ral. "Let's not find out," said D'Trelna. "Thirty to impact," said computer, voice filling the bridge.

  "T'Lei, at five, jump us just outsystem-about where we'd put a skipcomm buoy."

  K'Raoda was suddenly very busy. "Cycling to drive, Commodore."

  "Twenty to impact."

  "Drive cycled."

  "All decks, stand by for jump," said D'Trelna. "Ten, nine, eight. .."

  "Hazardous radiation!" reported T'Ral, shielding his eyes as blinding green light swept the bridge. "Five…"

  The ball of green fire passed through whereImplacable had been. Missiles and beams flashed from the black ship as she cleared the portal. Green fire devoured them. Reaching the portal, the Maximus entity passed through layers of wondrously intricate defense screens, penetrating the hull.

  The black sphere exploded, a fierce flash of primary colors sweeping out from the portal.

  The gray beam from the destroyer winked off as the explosion touched it. Freed, V'Tran's Glory drifted slowly toward Terra Two.

  20

  Warsuited, blaster in hand, K'Raoda stood alone on the bridge ofV'Tran's Glory, talking toImplacable. "Bridge and Engineering are secure, H'Nar," he said. "S'Til's force is searching the rest of the ship-NTrol's checking drive and engines."

  "And those alien machines?"

  K'Raoda looked at the small piles of gray ash littering the deck. "They couldn't handle defeat-they appear to have self-destructed."

  The captain shook his head. "If we reacted like that, T'Lei, we'd be a long time dead.

  "Advise when the ship's secure. Volunteer crew is standing by."

  "Acknowledged."

  Security seemed as deserted as the rest of the ship. S'Til walked past the central guard station and down the corridor, glancing into each of the ten detention rooms. The first four held no surprises-doors open, beds neatly made, a dresser, table, entertainment equipment, food unit, lavatory.

  The door to the fifth room was shut. "Room five, Detention, is locked," she said over the commnet. "I'm going in."

  "Wait for reinforcements," said K'Raoda.

  Ignoring him, she stepped back, aimed carefully and fired, blowing the lock controller away without fusing the lock. She went through the door as it slid open, MilA levelled.

  "And who the hell are you?" said the redhead in the brown K'Ronarin uniform, ignoring the blaster aimed at her chest.

  "English," said S'Til, not lowering the weapon. "Is your name M'Kenzie?"

  "MacKenzie." She took a step toward S'Til.

  The commando officer held up a palm. "Stay there.

  "Commander," she said into the communicator. "I need a decon team down here. They had a Terran prisoner."

  "Machines have poked, prodded and probed me," said Heather, cheeks flushed. "One especially vile metallic thing was shoved into my…"

  "Enough!" John held up his hands. "Did Q'Nil tell you w/iy?"

  Oblivious to the two Terrans, the medtech was busy at the exam room's lab console, reading Heather's final workup.

  "Something about biological vectors," she said, glaring at Q'Nil.

  "She's clean," announced Q'Nil in English, looking up from the console. "You can send her home."

  "Q'Nil," said John, "tell Heather why you did outrageous things to her body."

  "I tried," he said, stepping around the console. "She was shouting too loudly."

  "I'm listening," she said coldly.

  "Our machine friends could have turned you into a carrier of some very deadly latent bacillus," he said, meeting her look. "Anyone coming in contact with you would also have become a carrier. After a year, the bacillus would activate, killing you, everyone you'd passed it to, everyone they'd passed it to, on into infinity. Not so long and your world would be free of people."

  Heather had grown very pale. "This has happened before?" she asked in a small voice.

  Q'Nil nodded. "Long time ago. The Machine Wars. But under strikingly similar circumstances. Captive found, taken home, embraced by family and friends."

  "And a world died?" she said.

  "A quadrant died. Over two hundred inhabited planets, half a trillion people." He walked to the food server, punching up a cup of soup. "It's still there, on the star charts-the Plague Quadrant. The corpses are dust, the buildings and machines in ruins, cities overgrown. Fleet sends robot probes in now and then, taking samples-the Plague's still there, latent, awaiting a carrier. Formidable automated defense networks keep those planets and their buried wealth safe from greedy madmen-and us safe from the bacillus. Ironic that machines protect us from what machines wrought.

  "Something to eat?" he asked, blowing gently on hot, clear liquid.

  They shook their heads.

  "Come on, lady," said John. "I'll give you a tour ofImplacable."

  "Fine." She turned at the door. "Sorry I was such a jerk, Q'Nil. Thanks."

  "Happiness and long life, MacKenzie," he said, saluting her with upraised cup. He stepped to the commlink as the door closed. "Well?" demanded D'Trelna.

  "They dosed her with a binary agent, Commodore. I almost missed it."

  "What is a binary agent?"

  "A war bacillus harmless in itself. Call it type zero. If type zero meets the other half of the equation, though…"

  "Type one?"

  "Yes-type one. Each mutates the other into the same deadly, highly communicable killer."

  "So what good does it do for them to have just type zero walking around on Terra Two?"

  "They must have seeded the locals with type one when they held Maximus, Commodore. MacKenzie's type zero would spread from person to person, remaining in their systems, even a
s type one is now spreading. They'd inevitably meet and the Plague would start."

  "We came that close," D'Trelna held thumb and forefinger slightly apart, "to another corpse world?"

  "We did."

  D'Trelna sat silent for a moment, looking at the status board without seeing it. He turned back to the commlink. "She's clean now?"

  "More than clean." He sipped his lukewarm soup. "She'll be spreading a counter bacillus that destroys both binary types."

  "Thank you, Q'Nil."

  "Oh, Commodore?"

  "Yes?" D'Trelna's finger paused over the comm switch. "The primary bacillus-the killer-it's the one used against the Empire. It's the Plague Quadrant bacteria."

  "You look good," said John as they walked down the corridor, heading for the lift. "Especially for someone who's been held in the brig for about a month."

  "When I came tumbling through that portal, I was sure they'd kill me," she said. "Instead they put me in detention-and ignored me. I learned how to use the food machine. And the entertainment link was a godsend. It's programmed for English. Anything you want to know about the S'Cotar, the biofab war, I can tell you, as long as it was in ship's computer. I can even read some K'Ronarin.

  "When can I go home?" she asked, as they reached the lift.

  "A couple of hours," said John, pushing the calltab. "D'Trelna wants to get back to Terra One." The lift arrived, announcing itself with a faint ping.

  "You'll be delighted to know," he said, as they boarded, "that an old friend will be joining you on the flight home."

  "Come," called Hochmeister as the door chimed. He sat at his cabin's small desk, looking at a page of closely written notes.

  D'Trelna came in, attired in his usual rumpled brown duty uniform.

  "Ah, Commodore," said Hochmeister. "Have a seat." The drab K'Ronarin uniform seemed made for him.

  "Thank you, no," said D'Trelna. "We've finished testing the portal device aboard our destroyer, Admiral. We're leaving this charming universe almost immediately. Where would you like us to set you down?"

  "Berlin. Midday, midweek, atop the Brandenburg Gate. I'd appreciate it if the shuttle could approach booming out Wagner-'The Ride of the Valkyries,' I think."

  "Admiral…"

  "Just joking, Commodore," he said with a smile. Taking off his bifocals, he set them atop his notepad and looked up at D'Trelna, hands folded. "My home is Dresden, a quaint city of the baroque. There're a number of parks. Just slip me into one at night. I'll take a cab."

  "Fine." He stepped to the door.

  "You don't like me, do you, Commodore?"

  "Like you?" frowned D'Trelna, turning back. He shook his head. "No, I don't like you, Admiral. Oh, you're a cultured, intelligent man-you can be quite charming when you want to be. But you have the soul of an Imperial Security Master-you're a tireless and ruthless servant of Order. Happily, people like you are rare. Perhaps you kill each other off."

  "Peace, Commodore," said Hochmeister easily. "I serve the peace."

  D'Trelna shrugged. "Call it what you will.

  "Please be ready to leave in an hour. I'll send an officer to escort you to hangar deck." He left the room, the door hissing shut behind him.

  As Hochmeister picked up his glasses, the door chimed again.

  It was D'Trelna. "You've piqued my curiosity, Admiral," he said before Hochmeister could speak. "You've been on board for a week, have left only once, and are logging almost continuous computer time. What the hell are you doing?"

  "Just being a policeman, Commodore-serving Order. You have a S'Cotar on this ship."

  D'Trelna glanced out the armorglass. The stars shimmered faintly, their light distorted by the shield. "Impossible."

  "Guan-Sharick is on board. Probably since you defeated the S'Cotar off Terra One."

  The commodore sat down facing the desk. "Explain."

  "Certainly. I've spent my time reviewing your records. First for my own information, then to quell a suspicion. The suspicion merely grew.

  "Who told you about Maximus, Commodore?"

  "Guan-Sharick, of course."

  "Yes. Guan-Sharick. Teleported aboard and walked into your cabin with a bottle of premium brandy. Shock. Amazement. Consternation.''

  "Yes."

  "Guan-Sharick's briefing was interrupted. Remember?"

  "Someone called." D'Trelna shook his head. "It's been a while."

  The admiral reached for the desk complink. "I envy you your technology," he said, entering a command.

  "The prophylactic that protects our civilization from infectious creativity," said the commodore as Hochmeister swiveled the monitor to face him.

  "I like that," said the admiral.

  "As true now as when first written, four thousand years ago.

  "Half the screen's my log entry of Guan-Sharick's visit," said D'Trelna, reading the data. "The other half's a maintenance downtime log for the shield."

  "Note the times."

  D'Trelna saw it. He looked up, startled. "The S'Cotar arrived while the shield was up, heleft when it was down."

  "Correct," said the admiral, swinging the monitor back and disconnecting the complink. The screen folded itself neatly into the desk top, blending with the yellow t'raqwood veneer. "That was the only time your shield had been down since you first arrived in the Terran system."

  "One of us," said D'Trelna, pinching the bridge of his nose, looking pained. "One of us."

  "Yes-if it's true the S'Cotar can't teleport through a shield."

  "They can't."

  He looked at Hochmeister, eyes narrowed. "Who?"

  The admiral spread his hands. "I didn't know, but Ithought an alien clever enough to infiltrate an enemy ship for so long would know where to set tripwires-early warnings of an investigation. Matching of those two log entries we just viewed would be a logical tripwire. An alert has no doubt now been triggered to someone on this ship." He touched the beverager, producing a cup of fata.

  D'Trelna glanced at the door. "Someone who'll come to silence you."*

  Hochmeister shook his head. "No. Someone who is already here."

  "You're very clever, Admiral," said Guan-Sharick.

  "You're not D'Trelna, are you?"

  "No. That capable lump's on his way to the bridge." The transmute looked around the room, then at the door. "No rush of commandos, Admiral?"

  "No." He grimaced as he sipped the t'ata. "Hideous drink." He set it aside.

  "Herbal. Very healthy.

  "Why did you ferret me out?" The blonde replaced D'Trelna's image.

  "Amazing how you do that," said the admiral. He rose, walking to the armorglass window and its view of Terra Two. "I need you. I promised the gangers I would help them-negotiations, profound changes in the way

  America is run. Many in Germany fear a united America. I don't-they're no threat without the bomb. I can influence our side into neutrality while the gangers talk with their government." He faced the blonde.

  "It's the American side that I can't control. For that, I need you. How many effectives have you left inside their government?"

  "How did you know?"

  Hochmeister shrugged. "Something was happening at the second-secretary level. In light of later data, it had to be you."

  "I see. There're three that Shalan missed. Why?"

  "I want you to use them in any way necessary to see that an accord is reached between the gangers and the government. A fair and equitable accord-UC is to be disbanded, the cities rebuilt."

  "I'd have thought you had a warm spot for Urban Corps, Admiral."

  The admiral shrugged. "Just playing a role. I was there to investigate suspicions regarding Maximus. Colonel Aldridge was a superb cover."

  "You fooled a master," conceded the S'Cotar. "So, I do what you say, and then what?"

  "Then you're free."

  "Did I miss something?" asked the blonde. "Why shouldn't I just kill you?"

  Hochmeister walked back to the desk. He stood, looking down at the S'Cotar.
"Because I've recorded and hidden my suspicions and evidence about you deep in ship's computer. A routine report to computer of my death or disappearance would trigger a wide dissemination of that file. D'Trelna and L'Wrona would tear this ship apart with their bare hands to find you."

  "I could steal the access code from your dying mind."

  The admiral shook his head. "Probably not before my mind died." He tapped his teeth with a fingernail. "L-pill in a hollow tooth. Fast."

  The S'Cotar was silent for a moment. "Very well, Admiral. It costs me nothing.

  "I must return with this ship. However, my transmutes will report to you upon your return. When their mission's accomplished to your satisfaction, you will give them the access code to that file."

  "They'll be leaving the portal open for a while, then?"

  The blonde nodded. "The plan is to post a few ships off Terra Two-just to make sure there are no slimy green bugs left."

  "I'm leaving tonight," the admiral said as the S'Cotar stood.

  "I know. They're putting you and MacKenzie down on a scan-shielded shuttle. With the Maximus site obliterated, there's no trace of an alien presence on the planet."

  They walked to the door. "It's probably being explained as a secret project gone wrong," said Hochmeister.

  "Not a total lie."

  "So, do we have a deal, Guan-Sharick?"

  "We have a deal, Admiral," said the S'Cotar. They shook hands, Hochmeister feeling the S'Cotar's grip as firm, dry and human. Guan-Sharick was gone.

  Bemused, the Admiral looked at his hand, then went back to the desk and stuffed his notes into the disposer.

  "Well, this is it, then?" said Heather as they stopped at the foot of the shuttle. Hangar deck was back to normal now, blaster gouges along the walls the only trace of battle.

  "This is it," said John. He handed her the green backpack he'd just taken from his quarters.

  "What's in here?" she asked, unlacing the nylon cord.

  "A belated gift from Prometheus," he said, watching her remove the thick, black bound book. "One of the oddities of our civilization the K'Ronarins were shipping home. They can always get another."