by Olson, Ry
Something made the bed bounce and Martin looked down into a pair of deep yellow eyes. “Hey Maria, meet Prowler. And thank you, he’s beautiful.”
She giggled when Prowler sniffed her feet, his virtual whiskers tickled.
. . .
Doctor Swain wandered into his lab, his eyes sweeping the consoles with practiced precision. He stopped in front of the console monitoring Martin’s container, something had changed. He sat in a swivel chair, tapped some keys and frowned for a second before smiling as data scrolled down the screen. He stopped near the bottom.
ATTEMPTING LEVEL II SENSORY SYNCHRONIZATION
WARNING!!!
SYSTEM NEURAL PATH ERROR, ABORTING SYNCHRONIZATION
ATTEMPTING REMAP BLOCKS 34BF THRU 3F6F
REMAP CORRELATION VERIFIED 98.3% - ACCEPTABLE
RESETTING BLOCKS 3XXX
RESET COMPLETE - NO ERROR
ATTEMPTING LEVEL II SENSORY SYNCHRONIZATION
LEVEL II SENSORY SYNCHRONIZATION INITIALIZATION COMPLETE
ATTEMPTING SENSORY LEVEL II LOCK
SENSORY LEVEL II LOCK SUCCESSFUL, NOMINAL +3 SIGNAL GAIN
Swain spun himself it the chair, laughing waving his fists in the air. “Congratulations Martin, welcome to the cyborg world.” He stopped to tap a few more keys and the console asked for verification to terminate monitoring on Martin’s container. “You lucky bastard.” He laughed and slapped the key.
13: Then There Was One
“SCRAMBLE JESTER” the command came through and a klaxon sounded in Martin’s head. He shook out the cobwebs and smiled thinking about the night before, a split second later he was back in his fighter.
^Jester four, in.^ Martin reported.
^Martin, ready to roll?^ Brian didn’t sound quite like his jovial self.
^Where are the others?^ Martin asked as he automatically cycled through some ship diagnostics.
Brian hesitated. ^Reese’s ship is in repair . . . and Dottie won’t be re-joining us.^ He sounded glum. ^Martin, something really strange happened out there. Reset your FTL preloads to come up about a thousand kilometers short. I’m setting up the same way but I’m also off setting so we’ll come out about five hundred kilometers apart.^
^Affirmative, Jester one, resetting one thousand short.^ Martin’s response was automatic. ^Is she ok?^
^Yeah, she’s fine. When we got back her entire power system imploded when we dropped out of FTL. She had to jettison her ship, it was the last straw. She never really liked flying fighters anyway. I was going to tell you when we were supposed to go back on duty, in say what, about six hours from now.^ He finished with a sigh.
^Damn, sorry to see her go. I’m set, let’s rock.^ Martin was a little edgy, and his voice conveyed concern.
^Just one second. They’ll cut us a little slack on a cold scramble. Control filled me in a little, eight manned fighters reported an unknown bogey and went to investigate. They got out a partial mayday and dropped off the air. The Clowns responded and found the combat zone. They started to report, then they went dead. Control hasn’t been able to contact any of them and all telemetry is flat. So heads up bro, we got a real bogeyman out there.^
^No shit.^ Martin agreed. ^Let’s just take this slow and easy.^
^My thoughts exactly. FTL on my mark. Two, one, MARK.^
. . .
Martin scanned the area around the ship, the only thing on his instruments was Brian floating about five hundred kilometers away. ^Brian, I’m going to accelerate at twenty g’s for thirty seconds and coast.^
^Sounds good.^
Both fighters accelerated then cut back to run, more or less silent. For ten minutes they saw nothing.
^Martin, I got something. About twenty degrees off to my side low, range eighteen hundred.^
^Got’em, man something is really making hash of my readings, I get no details.^ Martin responded, trying futility to clean up his displays.
^I’ve got enough to see something I really don’t like. Just coast on by and we’ll come back around.^
^Roger, Jester one.^ Martin watched in silence as the combat zone drifted by, never really getting any detail. They decelerated to a stop.
^Ok Martin, here’s the situation.^ Brian’s voice was haggard. ^They’re all there Martin, eight manned fighters and four warborgs. They’re dead ships.^ He went silent for a moment. ^Martin there aren’t any Koth ships, and the whole area is full of ionized particles. Those ships are burned to a crisp.^
^Nukes?^ Martin mused for a second. ^No that can’t be right, there wouldn’t be anything left and the Clowns arrived well after the manned ships.^ He felt a pang of sorrow, he had barely gotten to know them.
^Martin, I’m going to drift into the zone and look around. You scout the area and see if you can come up with anything.^ Brian really sounded tired.
^Ok Brian, just watch your self. We have no clue what we’re up against.^ Martin tried to sound more aloof than he felt. He watched Brian’s ship accelerate slowly and glide toward the wrecked ships. He started a leisurely wide orbit of the battle zone. A half hour later Brian contacted him with a full hard link. ^Damn, are you ok?^ You look like a bucket of warmed over puke. ^You gonna be all right?^
^Yeah, I’m ok. Martin this is really spooky. I don’t think the manned fighters got off a shot. The Clown’s saw it coming and started a run, but whatever got them, nailed them before they could knock it out . . . or get away.^ Brian closed his eyes and blew out a sigh. ^They were all flash burned, and looking at the relative positions of the manned ships, I think whatever it was hit those poor bastards all at the same time.^
^Oh Christ. What a friggin’ mess.^ Martin shook his head. ^The only thing I found was a faint ion trail leading back toward Koth space.^
^Ok, I’m going to report in and have a recovery crew come out, I’ll tell them to take their time. Then let’s follow your trail for a little ways and see if we can get anymore data on this bastard.^
Martin cooled his heels as Brian reported in, to the disbelief of Space Control. He was referred to base command and made a report there to. Fifteen minutes later they were ready to go.
^Martin, I’ll take point. You follow five thousand kilometers back.^
^Brian are you . . .^
^Captain, that’s an order. If we run into this son of a bitch it would be nice if one of us got back to make a report.^
^Yes, Sir.^ Martin muttered, knowing Brian was right, but feeling like he should take point. After all Brian just had the unpleasant duty of inspecting the battle zone. He forced a smile. ^Lead on, Mon Capiton.^
They accelerated constantly for a bit following the faint trail. Then they coasted in silence for an hour, the trail grew more faint. ^You know Martin, I bet what we’re seeing is residue from that weapon and it’s cooling off. I’m surprised they haven’t gone to FTL.^
^Hmmm, maybe they’re still testing it and are doing something that FTL would mess up.^ Martin pondered, secretly hoping they didn’t catch up.
^Well, let’s give it an other half an hour and call it quits.^
Twenty minutes later they both noted a sudden increase in the ionization. ^Now that’s weird.^ Brian studied his instruments. ^Wonder if they powered it back up? Why the hell would they do that?^
Martin’s brain froze for a second. ^Because, they spotted us!!^
^WHAT! Holy shit, there it is.^ Brian yelled. ^Look at the size of that thing. Martin, break off. Get the hell out of here.^ He accelerated radically toward the Koth ship.
^Dammit Brian, what the hell do you think you’re doing?^ Martin bellowed as he applied full thrust to stop his ship.
^We need to know more about that weapon, I’m going to get into missile range, fire a couple, and get the hell outta Dodge. Hopefully they’ll use it to kill the missiles, you get your ass out of here just in case.^
^And if you miss judge?^ Martin grated at his friend.
Brian’s voice was dead calm with a trace of huskiness. ^They tell me you could live a thousand years
in one of these buckets . . . but why in hell would you want to?^
^Oh Jesus, Brian they powered up some sort of field generators. Get your butt outta’ there.^ To Martin it looked like some sort of huge fly swatter on his instruments. An immense blade of raw energy swept through space incinerating any matter that passed through it.
^Too late my friend.^ Brian sounded so relaxed, almost relieved. ^It’s been ni . . .^
Martin watched Brian’s ship flash as the field swept over it. ^Brian, god damn it, BRIAN!^ He mentally sagged. ^Go in peace you crazy son of a bitch.^ He watched Brian’s derelict ship tumble toward the Koth noting that he had reversed direction and was headed back. “Oh shit”, he muttered. His ship was over ten thousand kilometers from the Koth as the energy field swept over it. Damn I’m still alive. His ship was badly blasted, a glance at his FTL system confirmed it was totally useless. One of his trusters failed. The remaining instruments told him the Koth wasn’t pursuing, but it didn’t have to, the field was about to make another pass. He knew the ship would be dead after another attack and noted his options. Well this is nice, you get to make a choice ranging from dismal clear down to, you have to be kidding. He was still pulling away from the Koth, but the alien ship was starting in his direction. He’s going to make sure I’m dead. Through his damaged sensors he dimly saw the Koth suddenly veer off, half a second later the energy field hit his ship again. Most of the systems failed, along with two more thrusters. Martin shook off his amazement that he was still alive and using his one remaining thruster Martin forced his ship so the bottom was pointed away from the Koth. He couldn’t detect the field anymore, but he knew it was coming. He dumped as much of the sensor data as he could into his container’s memory banks blowing out a lot of personal data, hoping he could replace it later. Mentally crossing his fingers he jettisoned the ship, using it to shield him from the Koth. The energy wave hit and Martin’s world imploded into nothingness. His gut was a knot waiting for the next pass . . . but it never came as he ran silent, counting to gauge time.
. . .
Mentally gritting his teeth Martin finished counting to three thousand. That should be about a hour, if the Koth is still with me I’m screwed anyhow. He gingerly tongued some of the buttons to power up his container. His heart sank as half the systems didn’t come up. He couldn’t see, and being in space he couldn’t hear. The only communications system that came up was for short range use. Life support was damaged and fighting a losing battle just to maintain the canister temperature. His homing transmitter was dead. With a mental sigh he noted that he had plenty of power, if he could just find a way to use it.
He contemplated his situation trying not to get despondent. He knew they had traveled a long way from the battle site before running into the mystery ship. When he jettisoned his fighter, he tried to aim his container back toward human space, but there were other, more pressing considerations at the time, so he didn’t know how successful he had been. The few instruments that worked told him his life support would keep his container survivable about another twenty hours. This really sucks.
After a few more minutes consideration he clicked on his navigation strobe light and locked the key down on his short range transmitter so it would emit a steady low power carrier. Well, I guess that’s about all I can do. Maybe I’ll see you in the morning, Brian. He pressed the two buttons on the little block. Good night sweet prince, was his last thought as he fell unconscious.
. . .
Reese raised his eyebrows and started to stand when Commander Briton faded into his cabin. He settled back when Briton waved him to stay put. “Commander, to what do I owe this honor?” He waved the officer to a recliner.
Briton slumped into the offered recliner and rubbed his face with both hands for a second. “Reese, as of one hour ago you’re the only operational fighter warborg in this command.” Briton stated flatly, deciding not to drag it out. “C squadron has been wiped out, Major Stith is dead, Captain Morgan is missing and Dottie has no ship.” Jenny nuzzled his hand.
14: The Search
Reese leaned back, contemplating the Commander’s statement. I’m it? “What happened, Commander?”
Briton studied the steady face of his remaining pilot. “We really don’t know. Eight manned fighters reported an unknown intruder and went off the air. C squadron went to back them up, they reported some sort of new Koth ship, started to engage and also went dead. I sent Brian and Martin to investigate. They found all the ships totally destroyed and started following some sort of ionization trail. A little over an hour later they reported a contact . . . and something happened. Brian went silent almost instantly, Martin initiated a data link and we received several seconds of very confusing data then he also went off the air. Recovery found all the ships, they brought them all back in for analysis. Brian’s was shattered and there was a lot of extraneous debris with him that we’re examining, looks like Koth” He hesitated. “Reese, Martin jettisoned.”
It was the first time Reese had every seen Briton show any emotion. Initially he was the usual calm cool Briton, then toward the end he started to anger and was almost gagging with rage when he finished. Reese eyed the Commander. “Go on Sir, give me the rest.” He sighed, knowing he wasn’t going to like it.
“That self righteous borgaphobe, son of a bitch, Group Commander Stratton refused to send out search teams for Martin.” Briton seethed. “If it were a bio pilot he’d have every ship that could waddle through space out there looking, but for a tinman . . . forget it. To dangerous, we can’t afford the ships, you name the excuse.”
Reese sighed and rubbed his mustache, he had never seen this side of Commander Briton and it re-affirmed what he had always suspected about his loyalty to his troops. The fact he ripped his own commanding officer wasn’t lost on him, this was one conversation that never happened as far as the rest of the world was concerned. “I take it you’re not mounted in a ship.”
“Hell no, regs say a Wing Commander is supposed to be stationary.” He seethed in a sarcastic snarl. “But you know what Reese, screw the regs, I’m getting myself a strike fighter.”
Reese gave Briton a sad lopsided smile. “Good choice sir.” His smile faded. “My ship is short a thruster, but I’m space worthy.”
Briton gave Reese a resigned smile. “It’s a nice offer Reese, but one ship?” He shook his head. “Go if you want, for as long as you want.” He looked Reese in the eye. “I know if I were in your position I’d give it a try. But don’t expect too much, it’s a big piece of space.”
Reese winked. “Commander, don’t give it up yet. I think I might know a way to finagle some help. We may have an ace in the hole.” With that he contacted Leena via vidphone.
“Oh, hi Reese.” She answered rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
“Hi Leena.” Reese felt an odd comfortable stirring in his gut. You’re even prettier all tousled up from sleep. “Sorry to wake you, but we have a situation here.”
She smiled, blinking herself awake. “That’s ok Reese, what’s going on?”
“Leena,” Reese sighed. “Martin had to jettison his ship.” He hesitated. “He’s still missing.”
“What? Oh my god, Martin.” She was wide awake now. “How long has he been missing?” Her eyes opened wide as Briton entered the vidphone’s field of view. Commander Briton! Nobody ever sees Commander Briton. “Sir!”
Briton smiled. “We lost contact with him about six hours ago, we can only assume he jettisoned about then.”
“So they’re still looking for him aren’t they?” Her face alive with concern.
“No.” Briton’s smile faded to stony anger. “They never sent anyone out to search.” His voice was a ragged hiss.
“What, dammit why not?” She stared into Briton’s eyes through the vidphone.
“Stratton’s orders.” Briton closed his eyes and tried to regain his composure. “You know how he feels about us cyborgs.”
“That stupid, God damned, son of a bit . . . excuse me,
Sir.” She was flustered about deriding a senior officer.
Reese just smiled, but Briton broke out laughing and reassured Leena. “Don’t worry about it.” He winked, liking this feisty pixie. “You should have heard what I called him when I found out.”
She smiled and had the lamented thought; Why can’t I have a Commander like this one? “So what can I do for you, can I go out and look?”
“Well,” Reese faced the other two with a devilish grin. “According to regulations, any Wing or Group Commander can ask for volunteers from other wings to assist in special operations, as long as they are off duty and it doesn’t conflict with their normal routines.”
“Yes, but the reg states that I’m supposed to contact the affected commands.” Briton grated. “and we all know what Stratton’s response would be.”
“Yep,” Reese grinned, “but there’s a big difference between supposed to, required to and especially how to.”
“Hmmm, there will be hell to pay later.” Briton stated, starting to look forward to the confrontation.
Reese’s eyes gleamed. “Let’s eat that apple when we come to it.” His smile had an evil tint. “Besides, I think I can give you a hand there.” He winked at Briton.
Britain studied Reese for a moment. He turned to Leena. “Ok, I’m officially asking for volunteers to help search for the missing Captain Martin Morgan.” He smiled at Leena. “What can I do to help?”
She laughed. “Keep Commander Stratton busy for awhile.” She gazed at the two cyborgs with a sly grin. Now there’s two peas in a pod, even if they don’t know it. “Martin has a lot of friends Commander, let me make some calls.”
“Thank you, Captain Tinkman,” Briton sighed with a nod.
Leena kept her best poker face on. This simple act of honest gratitude impressed her, Stratton would have brushed her off. He knows who I am? I’m just some fighter jock in another wing and he knows who I am. She eyed him for a heartbeat. His stock went up another couple notches. “I got to get busy, Commander Briton.” She didn’t know whether to salute or not, then decided saluting in your nightgown was just too weird, so she nodded to him. “We’ll see you out there Reese.” She ended in a slightly evil wink as she blinked out.
