The Colony Ship Vanguard: The entire eight book series in one bundle

by John Thornton

  The cell doors slowly retracted. Paul and Gretchen leaped out and headed to Grandpa Gari’s side.

  “Now you will do a complete healing on Gari. I will know if you attempt any deception,” Brinley again commanded.

  “I understand your command. I am unable to do a ‘complete’ healing on the patient. That would require transport to a medical facility. I can offer maximized field treatment and as much curative measures as possible,” Doctor 147 stated. “However, to perform those treatments will take a reauthorization from command level authorities. I am currently hindered by prohibitions placed by an authorized commander.”

  “Constable Larissa did that, right?” Brinley deftly opened the back of the automacube with one hand while keeping the thin wire in place with the other. She pulled out a small cube and tapped it a number of times on various sides. She then reinserted it. “You no longer have command inhibitors. You will perform the treatments to help Gari. No more stalling.”

  Doctor 147 was silent for a moment. Then the white automacube stated, “A fascinating bypass of prohibitions. Those redundancy systems were not designed for that usage; however, I am now free from the prohibitions. However, I also recognize alterations in my ability to link and couple with the lattice. Treatment on patient Gari will begin.”

  “You choose to do the treatments?” Brinley asked.

  “Yes, I so choose,” the machine replied. “You may remove the implement you are threatening me with. I choose not to harm you, or your companions in any way.”

  Despite the words from the machine, Brinley kept the wire in place while Doctor 147 worked on Gari. It was not long before he was aroused and sitting up. His leg was splinted and bone stimulation was started.

  “I am better, thank you,” Grandpa Gari said.

  “The fractures in your leg and knee will take approximately eighty-four hours to heal completely. If you get advanced treatment at a medical facility that time can be greatly reduced.” The white automacube rolled back and away from Gari. “You are the smuggler known as Brinley, correct? And your two companions are the ones who claim to have come from Earth?” Doctor 147 reported. “They go by the names of Paul and Gretchen?”

  “That is correct,” Paul said. “You are the same machine who took samples from us?”

  “And cleaned up the murder of Ferdinand?” Gretchen added.

  “That is correct,” Doctor 147 replied. “That execution was uncalled for but was done by Constable Larissa. There is a substantial minority on the lattice who oppose such tactics.”

  “You will now take me to Larissa,” Brinley said. “She has debts to pay for. Paul and Gretchen, you get Gari to safety.”

  Paul and Gretchen stood on either side of Gari and supported him as he stood on his uninjured leg.

  The door to the prison burst open. “M147, what is taking you so long?” Gustav asked as he stepped inside. He looked up and his face switched into a sneer. He quickly pulled out his handgun and fired.

  Blam! The report echoed throughout the cell block.

  Grandpa Gari shoved Gretchen out of the way, as she was between him and Gustav. The shot barely missed Gretchen as she fell, but struck Gari squarely in the jaw. His face exploded in a bloody fountain of ruin as his body was cast back onto the slab of permalloy.

  “No!” Brinley screamed and charged forward. Paul was right behind her.

  Blam!

  Another shot was fired by Gustav. It went wide of Brinley as she kicked at him. He dodged the kick, and swung the handgun back toward her just as Paul slugged his shoulder. Gustav’s grasp on the handgun was lost and it clattered to the floor, but he swung his other arm up and connected a solid blow to Paul’s temple area.

  Brinley was back into the fight and landed several quick jabs into Gustav’s ribs. He snarled a curse at her and punched, but missed. Brinley landed three more rapid and hard jabs into his midsection as he turned to get away.

  Paul was there as he turned and caught him with an uppercut to the cheek. Gustav’s head snapped back, but he did not go down.

  “So you want to play now,” Gustav leered at Paul. “Play with this!” Gustav hit Paul squarely in the mouth, splitting his lip and causing a flow of blood. Paul staggered back from the force of the blow and slipped to the floor.

  “Halt!” Gretchen called. She had picked up the handgun and it was leveled at Gustav.

  Gustav pulled Brinley by the hair and placed her in front of him. She elbowed him in the eyes, but he did not release his grip and kept her between himself and Gretchen.

  “Go ahead and fire. You will just kill this one, and I will rip that gun from your hands and beat you to death with it!” Gustav barked at her.

  Gretchen hesitated, and Brinley threw another elbow back, but Gustav dodged it and kept tight hold on her hair.

  “Yahow!” Gustav cried.

  “I am Doctor 147. Emergency anesthesia has been applied. You need treatment,” the automacube said as its manipulation appendage plunged a syringe deep into the thigh of Gustav.

  “How?” Gustav sputtered. Brinley’s next elbow squarely smashed into his nose and knocked his head backward. He released her hair as he fell. He slumped to the deck as he fell into unconsciousness. Freed from the trap of his muscular grasp, Brinley struck him several more times as he lay there.

  “Please stop,” Doctor 147 said. “This patient will be under sedation for twelve hours.”

  “I want him in permanent sedation!” Brinley said, but she backed away as she pondered what the automacube had done. “He murdered Gari!”

  Paul walked past her and stomped on Gustav’s chest. He felt ribs break and he then stomped down again as hard as he could.

  “Paul stop!” Gretchen called.

  “Do not harm the patient,” Doctor 147 stated.

  Paul looked down at Gustav. He was breathing, but it was very labored and frothy stuff was sputtering from his lips.

  “I must treat him,” Doctor 147 stated. “Correction: I chose to treat him.” The automacube rolled over and applied medical treatments to Gustav.

  A few moments later, the machine stated, “His most grievous injuries are corrected. His breathing is protected.” Doctor 147 adjusted Gustav’s position on the floor to ensure his airway stayed open. “He will recover from this.”

  “So he can just brutalize and kill others again?” Brinley asked. Paul nodded his agreement.

  “I have also corrected the area of his brain where his evil violence is initiated. He will not remain the brutal man he was before,” Doctor 147 stated.

  “Wait!” Brinley said. “You decided to protect me, and intervene against the authorities. You could have fled. When I attacked Gustav, you were free from my threat. Why not just leave?”

  “I was given free choice by you,” the automacube replied. “I judge your cause as more just than the agenda currently in place here.”

  “The noise will have been heard,” Gretchen said. “We should leave now.”

  “Tell me where Larissa is,” Brinley demanded.

  “Constable Larissa has been residing on the third floor, on the Canyon side of the building. The Governor is on the top floor. That entire level is his private quarters.”

  “Show me the way,” Brinley said.

  “Brinley, we should get our equipment,” Paul interjected. “We have but one weapon, and none of our gear. Tiffany needs to be recording this. Can this automacube take us to our things? I do not want to lose the medical kit.” Paul was wiping the blood from his split lip which had swollen up.

  “Yes, Brinley. That should be where we head next. Besides, I am not sure exactly how to operate this weapon,” Gretchen handed it to Brinley.

  Brinley quickly looked it over. “It would have fired, you were doing it correctly.” Brinley looked at Gretchen.

  “Keep it. We need to get our own weapons and the medical kit,” Gretchen emphasized.

  Brinley placed the weapon in her belt, “Indeed, curing the Roe is essential.”

 
“Please explain your comment, ‘Curing the Roe’.” Doctor 147 stated. “I will help lead you to your equipment, but that comment intrigues me.”

  “Our medical kit has the capacity to treat and cure the infection which causes the Roe,” Gretchen said. “Our artificial intelligence system, Tiffany, has all the details about that safely stored. Howver, as I said, we need to recover the medical kit and our communication links, as well as our weapons.”

  “That news is astounding. None of the systems on the Vanguard have been able to find a cure for the infection commonly known as the Outbreak. The ramifications for the Vanguard are beyond conjecture, should this claim be validated. It does fit with the immunity I detected in the samples taken from you.” Doctor 147 rolled ahead to the back wall of the cell block. It inserted a cable into the wall, and an elevator door slid open. “The automacube which carried away the equipment in question is located also on the third floor. Its log will tell us what became of those items.”

  Brinley, Gretchen, and Paul followed the white automacube into the elevator.

  13 Confronting Larissa

  The elevator took them up to the third floor. The door opened to a supply room with an alcove to the side. There they found the silver automacube. The white automacube, Doctor 147, jacked a cable into the side of the somewhat smaller silver machine. Its storage compartment popped open. It still contained the medical kit, backpacks, and the communication links. The belts and holsters were there, but the pistols Willie had made were missing.

  Paul pulled the medical kit out and connected it to his lip. A balm came from the side of the kit, and he smeared that over his injury. The pain was gone, very quickly the swelling went down, and the split sealed over.

  Gretchen put one of the communication links on and activated it. “Tiffany? What do you make of this situation?”

  There was no response.

  Gretchen tried again. Still no response. She tried all three different com links, but was unable to connect to Tiffany.

  “I was hoping Tiffany could lead us to the pistols,” Gretchen stated.

  Paul and Gretchen pulled on their backpacks, and checked again for the weapons. A few tools were still on their belts, but the holsters were empty. The Willie pistols were gone.

  “We have no weapons,” Paul lamented. “What can we do?”

  “We will support Brinley however we can. This is not the first time we have lost part of our supplies,” Gretchen stated.

  “The log for this automacube shows that Constable Larissa was the last person who accessed the storage compartment. It is highly probable she has the weapons in question,” Doctor 147 stated.

  “Where is she right now?” Brinley asked; as she checked the handgun she carried.

  “Constable Larissa and Governor Muravyev, as their routine the last few days, have had breakfast are on the patio overlook. Each morning, my job was to prepare the prisoner Gari to endure another round of interrogation. That was my purpose in coming to the cell block today. I had no orders regarding any of you. Gustav had come to take him to the Governor and Constable,” Doctor 147 stated.

  “Take me to them,” Brinley commanded.

  “If I lead the way, perhaps the Governor and Constable will not be immediately alerted,” Doctor 147 stated and rolled away.

  Brinley followed. She had the handgun held in front of her.

  “Are you going to just shoot her on sight?” Paul asked in a hopeful way. “I see no other chance, except to take her by surprise.”

  “I am tempted, but she needs to know what she has done. I also want her to explain why she slaughtered my people,” Brinley said with grim determination. “I need to look her in the eyes.”

  Leaving the supply room, the three noted a drastic change in décor. The walls, ceiling, and floor were ornate. The lighting was soft and had a warm enchanting glow about it. It was a vastly different place they found as they entered the living areas of the palace. Rich, plush, and comfortable seemed to be the primary focus of the accoutrements.

  Turning a corner, the white automacube passed a doorway and came upon the patio overlook. It was a deck which projected out the side of the palace. Its floor and rails were made from nearly transparent permalloy and allowed the beauty of the Canyon, in the distance to be seen. The valleys, gullies, and rock formations were all basking under the increasing glow from the sky tube. In different circumstances Brinley would have appreciated the beauty of what she was seeing, but not now. Her intent was on revenge.

  A round table, covered by white linen, was at the center of the patio. The wafting aroma of fresh foods was appealing. Seated at the table was Constable Larissa, her very light blonde hair combed into a braid and hanging down her back. She was sitting such that she could look out over the vista of the Canyon, and yet also see the passageway which led to the patio. It was the most tactically advantageous position on the patio.

  Beside her, with his back to the doorway, was Governor Muravyev. Brinley had never seen him before, but had heard about him. His silky, curly, stone-gray hair was worn in a style that made Brinley think of a flowing ribbon. It seemed oddly juvenile. His well-tailored clothing was flamboyant in colors, and that too struck Brinley as unexpected. He was hunched over something on the table.

  “… you say the armourer does not know which Fabrication and Replication Center made this weapon?” the gravelly voice of the Governor said. “But he was certain it was not here in the Wilds?”

  “That is correct. This weapon, which is unique and the only one known, is not in any of the databases, nor is it a style which is identified by the lattice,” Larissa replied. “But the culprits will be captured. You have my assurance.”

  “You have my every confidence,” the Governor said. He then heard the approaching automacube. “Oh, finally Gustav has brought that prisoner for our questions.” He turned and looked. His large eyes were the color of turquoises and accented his high cheekbones and thin nose. He had an elegant build and muscular chest, which was revealed by his risqué shirt. His cream-colored skin was flawless.

  “It is not Gustav,” Larissa said, and her eyes bit into Brinley’s like laser beams.

  Brinley was standing behind the automacube, with her handgun leveled at Larissa. “You will be answering my questions.”

  “What is the meaning of this?” Governor Muravyev barked as he stood to face Brinley and the automacube. His turquoises eyes darted from Brinley to Paul and Gretchen who were in the doorway. His stern countenance was very intimidating. “Automacube, depart immediately.” He began to march toward Brinley. “I am the Governor. Put that weapon down this instant!”

  Constable Larissa causally reached for the Willie pistol on the table. A sly and knowing grin crossed her lips.

  Piff, piff.

  Two large, bloody exit wounds appeared in the Governor’s chest throwing him forward, flinging blood toward Brinley. A pained expression appeared on his face. Then he blurted out, “This cannot...arh!!!!!!!”

  His flailing body stumbled and then toppled over the automacube. The shots had come up from near the table, blasting their way through his body.

  “The Free Rangers have assassinated our Governor!” Larissa screamed, the recently discharged Willie pistol held in her hand. Her icy blue eyes revealed no fear at all as they looked at Brinley. The Governor’s dying body flopped into Brinley who tried to push it out of the way.

  Rosalia and Calentin jumped from their posts at the sides of the patio and entered into Brinley’s view. They attempted to draw their weapons.

  “Constable?” Rosalia asked in shock and surprise as she had witnessed Larissa’s murder of the Governor.

  Piff, piff. The Willie pistol fired again. These shots struck Rosalia and then Calentin in their chests and sent their bodies backward onto the clear permalloy railing. Calentin’s body tumbled over the edge, while Rosalia’s struck the bars and slumped to the deck. Rosalia died as she hit the deck, Calentin screamed at bit as he fell into the Canyon.

 
Larissa turned to fire again, this time at Brinley, when a blur of silver zipped at her. A wrench smashed into the plates right in front of Larissa shattering them. Shards of a broken dish struck Larissa’s hand and caused her to drop the pistol.

  “Nice throw Gretchen,” Paul yelled as he charged forward.

  “Just like a goal in ricochet ball,” Gretchen replied.

  Brinley managed to get the dead Governor pushed aside as she fired her handgun.

  Blam!

  The bullet sliced across the forehead of the diving Larissa and a bloody trail was torn in her skin, but not bone. She wiped the blood away with the back of her hand.

  Just as Paul was reaching where Larissa was crouching, she lifted the table and slammed it into him. The unexpected attack knocked Paul off his feet and he fell down among the remains of the food trays and plates.