Victory at all costs (Spinward Book 3)

by Rupert Segar

  Kimo tapped the screen floating just in front of his face.

  “All clear,” he said.

  Gemi and Calli swiped and tapped their screens.

  “Me too.”

  “And me.”

  A small hoard of golden automata emerged from the scrub and brush surrounding the clearing. The circle of golden figures separated: half going clockwise the other half anti-clockwise. The robots at the back walked fast and combined with the automaton ahead. It looked as if the one at the back simply stepped into the one in front. The process was continuous and swift. There were two golden figures left, facing each other. They each turned sideways, both looking at the alien trio in the centre of the clearing. They stepped into each other and there was just one golden automaton.

  “We are complete. I am the Ship,” said the robot approaching the three young Creators. The automaton knelt in front of them. They each laid a long fingered hand on its head. After a short while, the trio spoke together in unison.

  “You are complete. The Ship is safe.”

  The automaton stood up facing the three young aliens.

  “Although we have won this battle, the costs have been great,” it said. “Our defences against further infiltration are sound but much of our programming has been deleted or fragmented. We will need a period of calm introspection to heal ourselves. For a while we will be unable to interact with you and the rest of the galaxy. Until then, you will have to take the fight to the enemy yourselves.”

  +++

  The Emperor felt the pin prick of a mosquito bite on the back of his neck. He waited for the impertinent insect to get stuck in with its proboscis drilled into his skin before slapping it into a bloody pulp. Then he noticed another mosquito feeding on the back of his hand.

  The Brood King was throwing switches on the Sentinel, its mouthpiece, a severed head, was propped on the top. At its feet lay the twitching bodies of ten football sized spiders.

  “Peter, I have been defeated: the artificial mind in that alien craft has been hurt but it killed all my child soldiers. Some other hidden programme is preventing me from communicating with the fleet.”

  Mad Peter did a backwards somersault at the other end of the Sentinel’s coffin shaped lid.

  “My liege, I am sure we will regain control of Orion,” said the Emperor, standing by patiently.

  +++

  The control room of the Ship was dimly lit by emergency lights as the three young aliens awoke from their battle in the simulacrum. Zeeann stood by her three children who were packed onto the pilots’ seat.

  “I sense victory of sorts,” she said.

  “Yes, we helped the pods beat the beast,” said Calli.

  “But the Ship did most of the fighting,” said Gemi.

  “Without you three, the Ship would have lost,” said Zeeann, smiling. “Without your Creator’s empathy, the beast’s programming would have stayed hidden and could have regrouped and destroyed the pods.”

  “But grandfather has greater empathy than any of us,” said Kimo. “Why did you need us?”

  Sitting at the circular table, bathed in the green light of the omniocular in front of him, Asclepius looked up from the fortune telling machine and smiled.

  “Oh, yes, like you, I could have sensed the presence of the aggressor but I would have not had the courage to fight it.”

  “Your grandfather is a pacifist, all Creators are,” said Yelena. “But you all have your father’s bravery and determination.”

  “My grandchildren, you have played your part,” said Asclepius. “The omniocular now shows a greater than even chance that the cataclysm will be averted.”

  “Then we must do more,” said Calli. “We must take the fight to the enemy.”

  “Look around you,” said Zeeann. “The pods have shut themselves down. The doors are sealed. We are trapped here until the Ship heals itself.”

  Asclepius turned off the omniocular and faced his grandchildren.

  “The future is here and now. You have fulfilled the prophecies of our people. It is time for others to now determine the fate of the galaxy.”

  +++

  “I have lost the battle but not the war,” said the bloated arachnid. “I will destroy every sun that has a planet with a doorway.”

  The Brood King pulled a large switch and the cables running to the antenna began to hum. An invisible stream of virterons and baryons flowed towards the dull grey portal in orbit around the devastated remains of the planet called Marylebone.

  “Turn that device off or I’ll be forced to shoot,” said Colonel Garth, flanked by Art and Yelena and the marine sergeant from the medi lab.

  “Sentinel, screen,” bellowed the severed head.

  A bubble force field sprang up around the Sentinel and expanded smoothly, knocking the Emperor off his feet and shoving him unceremoniously towards the others. Garth fired his pistol stunner and the sergeant fired her rifle but both beams were dissipated by the grainy force field.

  “You are a fool, Garth, to think that I would leave myself defenceless,” bellowed the head.

  “Is this why suns are going nova?” asked Art.

  “Oh, the infamous Arthur King,” said the Brood King’s head. “You have an annoying habit of not dying.”

  “Baryons and virterons, flowing into space,” intoned Mad Peter, “destroying all the suns, it really is a disgrace.”

  “For the snark was a boojum, you see,” replied the Sentinel.

  “How are the particles channelled to a particular sun?” asked Yelena.

  “Oh, that involves skill and knowledge, but this is much simpler,” said the arachnid, waving a long leg at the antenna. “I am flooding the entire network of portals with antibaryons. All the suns explode. It’s my revenge on this galaxy.”

  “Ship, please help us,” said Art, speaking out loud, although using his sub dermal comms link.

  “You’ll get no reply from your computerised friend. It may have driven me out of its domain but I managed to land a knockout blow. Nothing can stop the Brood King now.”

  “There is one tiny thing, or, maybe, a flock of them,” said Garth pointing at one of the fallen spiders.

  A dozen or so mosquitos were feeding off the stomach sack of the recently deceased arachnid. Five of the tiny insects took to the air and hovered over the Brood King’s bloated belly.

  “What are these creatures?” asked the giant spider, trying to wave the insects away with three of its legs.

  “Iberian mosquitos,” said Garth. “They are natural arachnophiles: they love spiders. And they breed very fast. Within 24 hours there will be swarms of them on board Orion.”

  “How could you be so traitorous, Garth?”

  “Easy, the mosquitos. Their bite cleans the bloodstream of your spider corruption,” gloated Garth. “I wonder what their bite will do to your bloodstream.”

  The spider shook, all its legs vibrating. Then it steadied itself wrapping two legs around the end of the Sentinel.

  “Die or survive, I will have the satisfaction of wrecking your entire galaxy,” said the Brood King. “Peter, increase the baryon rate.”

  “No,” said Mad Peter.

  “What? You will obey!”

  “No! This not how the world ends: in a bang,” said the ragged man.

  “You will obey,” said the Brood King wrapping two legs round Peter’s head and the third, razor like leg at his throat.

  “Sentinel, all screens down, cast off …” cried Mad Peter, just before the spider cut off his head.

  The loading bay siren began to hoot and lights around the open space dock door flashed red.

  “Caution, atmospheric field about to be opened,” said the automated recording. “All personnel must exit loading bay 7 by the interior airlock.”

  Colonel Garth and the marine sergeant dashed towards the inner lock follow by Yelena and Art.

  “Death has a hundred hands and walks by a thousand ways,” said the Sentinel, and four small explosive charges br
oke the bolts anchoring the AI to the floor.

  All the force fields in the loading bay collapsed, including the bubble protecting the Brood King and the screen holding the atmosphere in the giant vaulted chamber. A hurricane strength wind sprang up as all the air in the room was sucked into the vacuum outside.

  “Noooo,” screamed the severed head mouthpiece as it tumbled away towards the open space door.

  Thousands of tiny spiders were sucked out of the loading bay. Egg sacks, hanging from ropes and cables, burst and the wriggling spider mites inside were brushed away. Mad Peter’s head rolled and bounced towards the space door. Rotting body parts and Human bones were swept along the floor towards the dockside.

  The Emperor was holding on tight to a railing, frozen in fear. Then he saw the Brood King clinging to the Sentinel directly downwind. The large coffin shaped machine was sliding towards to edge of the space dock but not fast enough. The King of Kings felt an urge to save the spider but then he found a new perspective. This monster wants to turn all of humanity into a mindless herd of meat cattle to feed its offspring, he told himself. I cannot allow that, No!

  The Ruler of Ten Thousand Worlds let go and ran with the wind behind him. Just meters from the Sentinel, the Emperor jumped up and aimed his body feet first at the arachnid.

  “I am the power and the glory here,” he said, though his words were barely audible in the thinning atmosphere.

  Crunch. The King of Kings’ boots hit the Brood King in its bloated belly. The spider was catapulted from its perch and tumbled towards the edge. The Emperor, having transferred most of his momentum to the spider, managed to grab hold of the top of the Sentinel. As the air pressure plummeted towards zero, he could feel his skin chilling and his eyeballs swelling. He saw the Brood King gripping the floor at the quayside of the space dock. The Kargol ruler opened his mouth to let out the air he was breathing, then he let go. The last of the atmosphere pushed him along until he was in front of the giant spider. The creature black eyes looked up at him. The spider had broken some of its legs. The Emperor kicked and kicked the spider into unconsciousness and using his shoulder, he shoved it over the edge. The Ruler of Ten Thousand Worlds watched the broken body of the Brood King tumbling through the vacuum of space. Then he too, fell headlong from the dock.

  Chapter 35: A New Beginning

  The coronation of Lady Thea was seen almost live on every planet in the Kargol Empire, and well beyond. The Ship’s secret of interstellar communications combined with Dylan the Devoted’s use of the portal network as a communication exchange meant that no planet need be left in the dark any longer. This latest ‘Good News’ was taken from world to world by the guardians’ fleet of explorer ships.

  The novelty of being able to see a Kargol coronation for the first time attracted audiences from more than two hundred thousand worlds. Many of the estimated one trillion pairs of eyes were transfixed at the image of two pods, one grey and the other bright red, floating behind Lady Thea as they magically held the end of her long train. Commentators or a myriad of worlds told the audiences how these were two of the mechanical aliens who helped defeat the Brood King. There were cut-away shots of the audience where five tall alien figures stood and a close up of the tree younger aliens. Commentators informed the galactic audience how these three, brought up in secret on Fair Isles, had played a major role.

  The camera zoomed into a close up of Art King and Yelena Kolowski. The audience had been made more than aware of the rebel couple’s exploits by their comrade in arms, the inter-galactically renowned journalist Becky Bhuna. Next was a shot of the new anchor herself, arm in arm with her intellectual giant of her boyfriend, Dr Lea Whey, the former librarian who had re-written history.

  There were audible exclamations of joy from the crowd in the Crandos Cathedral when the man stood next to the imperial throne kissed Lady Thea and then knelt beside the royal chair with his head bowed. This was Terrace Thorn, the former Intendant of Arcadia, husband of Lady Thea and shortly to become the Duke of Crandos, her imperial consort.

  There was an audible sigh from Colonel Garth, now the Protector of the Realm, as he placed the Empire Crown on Lady Thea’s head.

  “The Emperor is dead. Long live the Empress,” shouted Garth to the audience, who repeated the words back to Lady Thea, now Ruler of a Ten Thousand Worlds and Queen of all Queens.

  +++

  On the arm of her imperial consort, the Empress made a tour of the reception, which occupied the nave and aisles of the cathedral. Guest bowed and scraped before their new queen. The Empress had kind words for all including her new Protector of the Realm.

  “How do you like your new role, Garth?” she asked. “Is it better than being a mere enforcer?”

  “I am adapting, my lady, to your more benign regime.”

  “Not too disappointed at not being Emperor yourself?” asked the imperial consort.

  “Terrance, you’re teasing the man,” said the Empress.

  “I will admit, mam, to my previous ambitions. However, it was my loyalty and affection for you that broke the spider’s spell and gave me back my life.”

  Dr Robert Fillips and his new wife Dr Alicia Gomez were guarding a tray of broken orange peko jellies.

  “These are taken, I’m afraid,” said Robert to the person he sensed coming up behind him.

  “Honestly, Robert, I can always ask the kitchens to make you some more,” said the Empress, laughing lightly.

  “Your highness,” said Dr Robert, bowing and blushing. “You bought my loyalty with a small basket of these. How could I resist a whole tray full?”

  “Dr Robert, you helped save Arcadia and then the galaxy,” said Terry, the former Intendant. “My wife owes you a life-time supply of jellies.”

  Art was standing further down the nave with Suxie Wong, sitting in her motorised bath chair, and Mr Angry and a grey pod called Boss, both hovering.

  “How goes the hunt for the spider controlled warships?” asked Art.

  “We have destroyed more than four hundred,” said Suxie.

  “We are tracking any that use the portals but we are not sure how many there were and how many remain,” said the grey pod called Boss.

  “They are a threat to normal traffic but run away when approached by guardian vessels or imperial warships,” said Mr Angry. “It may be some time, but we will get them all.”

  A short distance away, Yelena and Zeeann were in telepathic conversation.

  “I see now,” said Yelena. “Art had little choice but to succumb to your alien charms.”

  “Oh, he had many choices,” said Zeeann, smiling broadly. “But, in the end, he chose you.”

  Yelena and Zeeann looked over the other side of the cathedral nave where Kimo, Gemi and Calli stood together with their grandfather, Asclepius. As other guests passed the group of aliens, they all bowed in respect. Then the Empress and her consort came past and the aliens bent their heads to the new ruler. In return, the Empress and her husband bowed low. The entire crowd applauded.

  “You must be very proud of your children,” said Yelena.

  “As you will be proud of yours,” said Zeeann out loud, putting her hand on Yelena’s slightly swollen tummy. “Ouch, very feisty, just like her father.”

  “I am carrying twins.”

  “I know. The boy is very strong willed too.”

  Both women smiled at each other.

  An alarum of trumpets sounded from all quarters of the high vaulted hall. All the guests looked toward the chancel end of the cathedral. The new Empress stood before the raised altar. An image of the Queen of Queens was also projected on a large vid screen hanging in the crossing of the transept and the nave.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, imperial nobles, venerable Creators, and, not least, mechanical entities, give me your ears, or sensors. I would like to thank you all, for attending my coronation. However, from today, from the very beginning of my reign, you must know I will be the last ruler of the Kargol Empire.”

  The
re was a flurry of chatter among the audience and a few shouts of “No” from the audience. The Empress held up her hand for silence.

  “For too many centuries, the Kargol Empire has bullied the galaxy. We enforce a brutal regime at home and impose the cruel yoke of servitude on hundreds of worlds outside. Secret police crush any sign of opposition. We exploit our young people. We allow our military to abuse civilian populations with rape, robbery and slave labour. In short, the Empire tramples on humanity.”

  There was a stunned silence in the high vaulted hall.

  “No more! No more! No more!” said the Ruler of Ten Thousand Worlds.

  The Empress paused and looked about the cathedral nave. After a moment, a few people began to cheer. Then the majority of the guests joined in the uproar. Even Colonel Garth clapped his hands; as Protector of the Realm, he had been told the contents of the speech in advance.

  The Empress smiled and held up both hands. It was a full minute before the noisy adulation died down.

  “As many of you know, I have already freed all slave planets. Every world will be offered compensation as appropriate and all will be offered full membership of the Empire.

  There were a few cheers from the representatives of Arcadia and other worlds that had been invaded by the Empire.

  “But, as your Empress, there is something more I need to do. I pledge to introduce a fundamental bill of rights for everyone. The Kargol Empire will no longer be allowed to ride roughshod over its citizens. Instead, people and their property will be protected by imperial law.”

  More people began clapping and cheering. The Empress held up her hands for silence once again.

  “And finally, I want to talk to you about an idea,” she said as a black and white spinning orb appeared beside her. “It is called Democracy.”

  “Not only did the Ship help defeat the Brood King but it has also brought us the means for Human to talk to Human right across the galaxy. The Ship has reminded me of a way of organising government that goes right back to Ancient Greece on old Earth. Every citizen should have a say in what happens on their world and who runs it. Collectively, the planets should send representatives here to vote on how we run the Empire. For centuries, we have had dictatorships because we thought it made us strong. It made us brutal and brought division. Now, with democracy and the will of the people, we can be truly strong. My pledge to you is to have a democratically elected government within five years.”