“Shouldn’t we bring one of the Attack Talon’s former crewmembers onto the deck?” Jana asked.
“We know what to do,” Klane said.
“They’ve taught us and we have memories,” Jana said, “but they’re actually trained to run these particular ship systems.”
“No,” Klane said. “This is too important to leave to them.”
“Because Niens is untrustworthy?” asked Cyrus.
“That’s a shrewd question,” Klane said.
“So what’s the answer?”
Klane glanced over his shoulder, giving Cyrus an unreadable stare.
For an instant, Cyrus felt as if an alien watched him. It put a cold feeling down his spine.
Cyrus waited for Klane to say something. Was the Anointed One able to break through his mental shield to read his mind?
Hey, do you hear me? Cyrus projected the thought. He’d never been much of a telepath, and it appeared he still wasn’t. Klane didn’t even react. That seemed odd.
Just what was going on inside of Klane’s head?
9
Dagon Dar brooded as he studied a hologram of the Fenris System.
Confusion reigned among the Kresh. Long-distance arguments meant warships remained at the third planet. The personnel in the Glegan orbital platforms were on high alert. How would that help the satellites against massive planetary-based beams if the Chirr down there tried to do what had happened at Heenhiss?
All the while, the Chirr continued to attack the Heenhiss space habs.
Earlier, Dagon Dar had given orders for every Kresh spaceship in and around Heenhiss to flee into deep space. The vessels could redeploy later. The logical act was to save what he could instead of trying to defend the indefensible. The strength of the Chirr armada staggered his imagination.
If that fleet reached Glegan, the Kresh there would sustain crippling losses. If the Chirr underground on the third planet launched an equally large space fleet as they had at the second, at the right moment, the Kresh forces there would perish.
Should the Kresh fleet withdraw from Glegan, leaving millions to die? Or should the Glegan fleet fight and possibly face annihilation?
What kind of Chirr force lay under Glegan’s planetary surface?
Many Kresh argued that Dagon Dar should take the Pulsar fleet, such as it was, and add their ships to the Glegan fleet.
The new FIRST tore himself away from the holo-globe and stalked out of the chamber. He began to move along the corridors of his Battle Fang. He had to ponder the evidence and make the most logical choice for the Race.
Half of the remaining Kresh vessels orbited Glegan. Roughly one quarter resided in the Pulsar gravitational system. One fifth of the remaining Kresh warships were far away in the outer asteroid belt, scattered around the periphery of the star system. The rest of the warships either journeyed between planets or waited at out-of-the-way locations.
If that wasn’t enough of a logic puzzle, there was the strange and final warning from the old FIRST. That’s why Dagon Dar strode down the corridor, trying to make sense of her odd advice.
Human crewmembers fled from his path. They recognized an agitated Revered One when they saw him.
As he stalked through the largest corridors of his ship, Dagon Dar issued commands. Battle Fang Whet Steel increased velocity, along with its sister ship. They would join the other warships gathering at Jassac. From there, in several hours, he would make the fateful decision concerning the Pulsar fleet.
What should I do about the former FIRST’s suspicion? Dagon Dar had never entertained the slightest notion of an alien entity softly pushing the various species to come to Fenris. It was a staggering idea. Yet there was more. The former FIRST supposed a foreign entity might be guiding . . . what? The alien intelligence pushed Kresh into taking selected actions?
That is preposterous!
Dagon Dar stopped, and he cocked his raptor head. Why should that be a preposterous notion?
That isn’t how my intellect deals with a troublesome idea. I do not reject it out of hand, but consider every possibility.
As he stood on his speeding Battle Fang, Dagon Dar began to think deeply. The former FIRST should have laser-beamed her articles to him, outlining her suspicions and giving him full data on the thesis. What had led her to her conclusion anyway?
It might have been the very fact of three distinct intelligent species living in one star system. She had also pointed out a fourth species, the metal creatures called cyborgs. That four very different species had each came to the Fenris System during their years of advanced technology . . . what would be the mathematical odds of that?
According to the data he’d examined, the crew of the latest human colony ship had not known about the first attempt. Why did the humans journey so far to reach this particular star system?
Did that objection a few moments ago—that is preposterous!—occur in my brain from my own thoughts, or did a telepathic creature plant the thought there?
No. The idea had not originated within him. Dagon Dar knew himself well enough to realize that. If nothing else, the thought proved the former FIRST’s thesis.
Several postulates naturally derived from the thesis. Had the Heenhiss Chirr struck when they did because the former FIRST had stumbled upon the amazing truth? Could the meddling alien subvert Kresh thoughts? Or did the alien use the much more moldable humans and Chirr to do its bidding?
Dagon Dar stopped, becoming rigid. He began to think, really cogitate, using the full extent of his amazing Kresh intellect. With extreme logic, following the reasoning wherever it led, he correlated data and ideas. His mind wrestled with the concepts and examined ratios and probabilities. Finally, he roared as his tail lashed, thumping against a bulkhead.
How could he have not seen it sooner? It was highly improbable that the humans could ever have gained an Anointed One. Klane had originated in the Kresh labs. Zama Dee had instructed others to put him among the primitive humans. The Kresh as good as gave the humans their supposed savior, as told to Dagon Dar by the Resisters on High Station 3. What’s more, the primitive tribes had ready-made seekers to guide the humans.
And in our labs we created the Bo Taw, superior telepaths.
Given these facts, this alien presence must have worked an exceedingly long time to prepare for the Anointed One. Yes, yes, the Chirr fleet had broken out of the tunnels the same month the Anointed One gained space freedom. The two events were connected. It was obvious.
The connection had to be the hidden alien meddler. Logic dictated the entity’s existence. There was no other rational explanation. The alien’s reality changed the Fenris equation.
All Kresh must wear our anti-telepathy devices at all times.
Swiveling around, Dagon Dar strode for his communications chamber. Glegan must be a trap meant to annihilate Kresh space power for good. The alien meddler must hate the Kresh because only they could detect it through heightened reasoning. Therefore, the entity used the Chirr to attack them. That would give the Anointed One time to do whatever he was supposed to.
I must gather the fleet in the Pulsar system. I must cogitate with extreme exactitude and discover the abode of the meddling alien. Somehow, I must extinguish them or it before the hidden one destroys the Kresh.
10
Cyrus Gant sat before the weapons panel as the Attack Talon rose from Pulsar’s atmosphere.
Jana pressed tabs and adjusted controls. Klane sat beside her, avidly watching the window portal.
As the ship climbed out of the immense gravity well, the gas giant’s multicolored atmosphere thinned out. The clouds lessened and it became darker outside. Soon, stars began to appear.
“Better seal the viewing port,” Cyrus said.
Jana tapped another control. Blast doors slid before the window. With another tap, she brought the viewing screen online.
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“I suggest we use passive sensors at first,” Cyrus said.
“I agree,” Jana said.
Cyrus grinned to himself. He knew Jana was proud of how much she’d learned these past few weeks. Even with the memory transfer, her piloting the Attack Talon wouldn’t have been possible without the simulator. She’d sat before it most of her waking hours. The former crew had taught her. With ancient seeker knowledge buried deep in her mind, she had quickly gained a pilot’s rating.
“Sense anything unusual yet?” Cyrus asked the Anointed One.
Klane said nothing, although he closed his eyes and bent his head. It meant that with his psionic abilities he was studying the void outside the ship.
With his fingertips, Cyrus rubbed his other palm. His hands were sweaty. He was nervous all right. The journey from Earth to the Fenris System had been okay. Ever since he’d arrived, though, it had become a nightmare. Did Chief Monitor Argon still live at High Station 3? If anyone could survive the Kresh interrogators, it would be the Highborn. He hoped most of the space marines were still alive. Yang and his Berserkers, and especially Skar 192, were good soldiers. But they were nothing like Earth marines.
A loud and ominous beep alerted him that the ship’s sensors had spotted something.
Cyrus studied his board. He still had problems reading the Kresh symbols. “What are you picking up?” he asked Jana.
“I think it’s a Kresh Battle Fang,” she said, her voice quavering. “It’s heading straight for us, Cyrus.”
Cyrus’s chest hardened. So, the Anointed One had spotted something before with his farseeing. He should have trusted the man’s dreams.
“Klane, can you sense them with your psi?”
“No,” Klane said bleakly. “I can’t see them.”
“You know what to look for when I use the null,” Cyrus said. “Do you sense similar mental vibrations out there somewhere?”
Klane was silent for a time. Then he said, “I do. They’ve tricked me. The Kresh have definitely learned about the null.”
Sweat beaded on Cyrus’s forehead as he bared his teeth in a silent snarl. Their one ace had been the null. Now the Kresh knew about it. Worse, the dinosaurs had used it to sneak up on them.
Jana moaned as a series of beeps came from her panel. “They’re hailing us,” she said.
“What do you say, Klane?” Cyrus asked. “What should we do?”
“Maybe we should answer the comm,” Klane said.
“What?” Cyrus asked, turning toward the Anointed One in shock. “Are you crazy? Radio connection strengthens the Bo Taw’s psi-abilities. I’ve told you about that before.”
“We must survive,” Klane said as he sat stiffly in his chair. “That is the central issue. Hence, surrender is the safest option.”
“The issue, hence?” Cyrus asked, his brows furrowed. “When did you start talking like that?”
Klane turned around, and he stared at Cyrus. His eyes seemed to burn with power. “Down on your knees!” the Anointed One shouted. “Bow before me.”
Before he knew what he was doing, Cyrus gave Klane the finger. It was so automatic that it surprised him. He realized in that moment that Klane was different. The Anointed One didn’t even seem like the same person.
A moment later, psionic pain struck his mind. Cyrus gasped. He felt the power trying to shut down his consciousness. He fought back, concentrating, using lessons taught back at Earth’s institute. The attack mind was too powerful. His eyelids began to flicker as he fought to keep them open.
Cyrus snarled and sweat began to drip down his face. He had to do something. Klane, or whatever Klane had become, would soon put him under. Inspiration struck. Cyrus slapped the weapons board, launching several missiles at the enemy.
“You fool!” Klane shouted. “Go to sleep—now!”
Cyrus fought back with everything he had. It was like a man trying to stop a bulldozer with his hands. So, instead of engaging the psi-attack head-on, he kept mentally skipping back. Soon, though, he would run out of room and would fall asleep.
In a hazy manner, Cyrus watched Jana swivel around to face Klane. They sat side by side. She started to swing at him, aiming for the side of his head. Klane must have sensed that. His head whipped around. The Anointed One glared at her.
For a moment, the mind attack against Cyrus lessened.
Jana’s arm lost motive power. She struck the side of Klane’s head a glancing, harmless blow. Then she crumpled as if her bones had dissolved. She slid from her chair onto the floor, out cold.
Immediately, the psionic pressure against Cyrus resumed.
“I can kill her,” Klane said in an emotionless voice.
“What’s wrong with you?” Cyrus shouted. “Why are you doing this? We’re your friends. You’re the Anointed One who’s supposed to save humanity.”
On the main screen, a bright bloom showed a Battle Fang destroying one of the missiles. Cyrus had managed to launch three.
“They’ll kill us,” Cyrus said past gritted teeth. “They’ll dissect you to see what makes you tick.”
“No,” Klane said as if he were a recording. “It is too late for them. I have found it at last, at long last.”
“What are you talking about? Is one of the Bo Taw controlling you?”
Klane’s eyes seemed to smolder. “How can you conceive of the long eons I’ve spent—”
Klane closed his mouth, and lines appeared in his forehead. “Cyrus?” he asked, sounding normal again.
Cyrus knew the truth then. His friend hadn’t acted as if he’d been Bo Taw controlled. This was someone else.
“Klane! Something alien is manipulating your mind. You have to fight it.”
The Anointed One nodded slowly, as if it took great effort to do that. “I know,” he said. “I feel it inside me. Just a minute ago, I pulled back on the strength of my mental bolts aimed at your mind. It keeps forcing me, though. I don’t understand how it can do this.”
Inside the ship, a klaxon began to wail.
With a seemingly rusted neck, Klane turned and studied Jana’s panel. “The Kresh have launched missiles at us,” he said.
“We have to fight them.”
Klane shook his head.
“Do you want them to capture us?” Cyrus shouted.
Klane’s voice and demeanor changed once more, becoming more mechanical. “You do not understand. I cannot risk destruction. We will surrender.”
Another bloom appeared on the main screen. Another of their missiles exploded to an enemy Battle Fang’s destroying laser.
“What are you anyway?” Cyrus shouted. “How did you take over Klane’s mind?”
“It doesn’t have all of my mind yet,” Klane said through gritted teeth, seeming like his old self again.
“Whatever you are,” Cyrus said, “you’d better release your grip on Klane’s mind.” With his limited Special powers, he tried to help his friend. It was like hitting a steel wall. He couldn’t do anything. He was too weak. He had to reason with the thing, trick it maybe.
“If we can’t fight them,” Cyrus said, “the Kresh might accidentally destroy us.”
“We will wait now,” the mechanistic Klane said. “They will autodestruct the missiles aimed at us.”
“You must be the reason why I sensed doom earlier,” Cyrus said. “We had the Trojan horse here among us. I wish I knew how this happened.”
With a wooden motion, Klane tapped a panel, opening channels with the Battle Fang. A Bo Taw appeared on the screen. The modified human wore a baan around his elongated forehead and a red robe around his body.
“You will surrender,” the Bo Taw said.
“Kill him, Klane,” Cyrus pleaded. “Use your powers on the Bo Taw.”
“Surrender,” the Bo Taw said on the screen.
“Fight him,” Cyrus said.
Klane appeared not to hear either man. He sat frozen, perhaps the two entities fighting inside the Anointed One’s mind.
For Cyrus, this felt too much like the last hours aboard Teleship Discovery. Through mind control, the Bo Taw forced most of the Earth crews to fall alseep. For a time, only Cyrus had resisted them.
The man from Milan resisted now, and he realized a moment later that no one attempted to control him.
“We will surrender,” Klane told the Bo Taw.
Cyrus snarled silently. He rose and activated the main laser control. The engines revved and a bright red beam appeared on the main screen. It lanced outward from the Attack Talon and burned into the enemy Battle Fang.
The Bo Taw on the screen shouted in terror. Harsh raptor-like words sounded behind the modified human. Then a Kresh appeared on the screen and swept the Bo Taw out of the way. The dinosaur stared at them. It was like looking at an intelligent, two-legged crocodile.
“Stop your attack at once or the other ships will retaliate,” the Kresh said.
Cyrus cursed the alien. He planned to go down fighting.
“Stop what you’re doing,” Klane told him. Then the Anointed One frowned at Cyrus.
Red-hot pokers of pain broke through his mind block, stabbing Cyrus’s thoughts. He groaned. What a crock. Klane kept switching sides—one second he helped; the next he attacked.
Stunned by the mental assault, Cyrus slid off his chair onto the deck plates. He hadn’t turned off the laser, however. It still beamed at the enemy ship.
Maybe because of that, Klane stood up, moving toward the weapons panel.
On the main screen, the Kresh Battle Fang exploded spectacularly. At almost the same moment, two more Battle Fangs rose up out of Pulsar’s atmosphere. They beamed the Attack Talon.
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