STAR HOUNDS -- OMNIBUS

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STAR HOUNDS -- OMNIBUS Page 16

by David Bischoff


  The whole ship shook with new blasts against the force shields. Jitt fell back into his chair.

  The Starbow answered with a volley of its own that struck one of the retreating ships, but to no apparent effect.

  “We felt that on the secondary field, Lieutenant.” Gemma Naquist said. “Shall I set up a tertiary?”

  “Yes!” Jitt said.

  “Lieutenant,” said Officer Mayz. “No response to our signal. But I am getting an interesting reading—”

  Suddenly Dr. Mish appeared at the door. He stalked forward, frowning, and motioned Silver Zenyo away from the sensor boards.

  “How peculiar,” he said, gazing down at the readouts.

  “What’s wrong, Doctor, besides the fact that we’re in a bunch of trouble?” Jitt said, shakily.

  “Those ships have got an extremely advanced form of analysis beam focused on us. Their aggressive activity seems to be masking the fact that they’re simply seeing what we’re made of.” He shook his head and smiled wryly. “Not good enough, fellows. Nice try.”

  “What are you talking about, Doctor?” Jitt said.

  “Lieutenant, I’m reading a great deal of power inside those ships,” the doctor said somberly. “And if they wanted to use that power—”

  “Here they come again!” Silver Zenyo shrieked quite unprofessionally.

  The white hot energy beams streaking out before the whip-ships suddenly changed to bright blue. They sparked against the periphery of the force screen with a dazzling display of spectrum distortion as proton beams from the Starbow’s port side slashed forward to meet the attacker.

  Silver Zenyo gasped, painted nails reaching into her hair, teeth clenched, eyes open with pain.

  “Jitt!” Communications Officer Mayz shouted.

  “The strangest signals … ”

  The hull rivets and structural joints of the Starbow seemed to shriek with outrage at the pressure exerted upon them by the enemy beams.

  The crewmembers on the bridge shook like marionettes shorn of strings.

  “Nothing for it,” said Dr. Mish, staggering toward a control board. “I’m going to have to cut in the extradimensional reserve!”

  “What in God’s name is that?” Dansen Jitt cried. But Dr. Mish seemed too busy to answer—nor did he seem to do much at the control board, simply grabbing hold of two bus bars, then becoming statue-stiff.

  Within moments the vibrations stopped. Dansen Jitt steadied himself by leaning against the command chair. A sudden change in the vu-screen attracted his attention. Purplish red beams of astonishing width seemed to emanate from each pod on the Starbow’s radii. These converged upon the two Jaxdron ships, holding them motionless.

  “Some sort of tractor beam,” said Mayz. “But I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “Quickly!” Jitt ordered. “Blast them!”

  The weapons officers aimed the beamers, but did not fire.

  “What’s wrong?” Jitt demanded.

  “All the power is apparently being sapped by those beams, sir!” came the answer.

  Jitt turned to Dr. Mish, who maintained the same position, eyes closed in intense concentration. He did not respond at all to Jitt when the little man called his name.

  Jitt turned his attention back to the vu-screen. The Jaxdron whip-ships were struggling to escape the tractor beams and not succeeding.

  “What can we do, sir?” asked one of the crew.

  “Apparently Mish is counting on Laura Shemzak and Captain Northern to disable or destroy those ships,” said Jitt. “He’s throwing everything we’ve got into keeping them there.”

  “Lieutenant Jitt,” said Silver Zenyo. “Sensor readings show a tremendous power surge of some kind on one of the Jaxdron ships.”

  “Look!” Mayz pointed to the primary vu-screen.

  “Something has broken away from one of those ships. It’s gotten free of the tractor beams!”

  “Some kind of boarding boat!” Jitt said. He struck one of the controls on his chair. “Red alert! Red alert!” he cried breathlessly. “Break out in-ship weapons and prepare for alien boarding!”

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  When the blip-ship and its attendant shuttle rose from the globe that was Baleful, they were immediately confronted by the sight of the Jaxdron whip-ships caught in the Starbow’s tractor beams.

  “I’m going to take out their engines if I can,” radioed Laura Shemzak. “You get back to the ship, Captain, and stow those false brothers away somewhere so that I don’t shoot them on sight!”

  “Roger, Laura,” replied Captain Northern. “Good luck—wait a moment. We’re getting something from the Starbow.”

  Laura tuned in to the Starbow’s frequency and immediately received Jitt’s voice. “Mayday! Mayday! Captain, a small Jaxdron ship has pierced our defensive shields and is docking right now, drilling a hole through Alpha airlock, closest to the bridge.” A terrible din was audible through the speakers—then a loud explosion. “Captain, they’re through. They’ve boarded!”

  “Damn!” Captain Northern said. “Pilot Shemzak, reroute and destroy Jaxdron sucker-ship attached to Starbow. Then resume previous plans.”

  “Yes, sir,” said Laura, not questioning the orders at all. “Over and out.” She banked away from formation with Northern’s shuttlecraft and accelerated toward the Starbow’s position.

  The sight of the surging energies locking the ships together was quite spectacular, but she didn’t pause to admire the view, streaking in as fast as possible toward the indicated airlock. Sure enough, there was a small ship of a strange trapezoid design attached to the hull of the Starbow.

  Laura’s excellent sensors showed no shields whatsoever around the invading craft. Good. She wouldn’t have to waste energy.

  Her first salvo caught the vessel square in the rear, ripping it in half with a violent explosion. Torn fragments scattered every which way, some taking up an orbit around the Starbow. A brief release of gases shot from the opening—and then the Starbow automatically sealed itself tight again.

  “I got it, folks,” she said. “Now I’m going to see what I can do about the big guys.”

  She righted her blip-ship and accelerated toward the two Jaxdron ships, careful to stay out of range of the peculiar and powerful tractor beams that held them rigid.

  Three aliens emerged from the blown-open airlock—but they were not Jaxdron. They were robots—squat, human-shaped—who carried streamlined energy rifles and immediately headed straight for the bridge.

  A contingent of Dr. Mish’s robots, armed themselves and led by General Patton, guarded the entrance to the bridge and met the invading robots’ fire with fire of their own, delaying them long enough for another party of Mish’s robots, led by Napoleon Bonaparte, to attack them from the back.

  It was at this point that Laura’s successful attack upon the invading ship blew the entire conflict into complete chaos. The rearmost alien robot and one of the defending robots were destroyed in the explosion—and the other two alien robots were blown directly into Patton’s party, creating a strange metallic free-for-all of battling fists and fire.

  Jitt monitored all this with growing apprehension.

  “They’re getting closer!” he said, holding his energy pistol nervously.

  “They’ve broken through,” he went on, staring in horror at the screen. The bronze and black pair of robots, previously a berserker blur, exploded through the mass of warring simulacrums in a blast of light. While one of the robots kept the defenders at bay, the other worked with his energy gun at the door leading to the bridge.

  “Oh, God,” said Jitt “it’s not built to stand that kind of punishment!”

  The robot facing Mish’s creations took a blast full in the neck; its head toppled off. Its weapon dropped from its hands, but it blindly kept its stand, shielding its fellow from the b
lasts of the simulacra.

  With a deafening noise, the door mechanism snapped. The alien robot tore the metal as it wrenched the door open. Close up, Jitt could see three black-lensed oculars swiveling as though searching for something. A beam hit its torso to little effect. Jitt recovered enough from his terror to fire off a blast. But the robot ignored both, focusing its oculars upon the figure of Dr. Michael Mish, still frozen over his set of controls.

  “Doctor!” cried Silver Zenyo. “Watch out!”

  But the doctor did not move, and the power beam caught him full in the back, blowing him away from the board, crumpling him into a smoking heap in a corner.

  “Doctor!” Dansen Jitt yelled. He leaped toward his fallen comrade, putting a chair between himself and the alien robot as it exploded, sparks flying from its head and torso. What was left of the big machine crashed to the floor, twitched, and was still.

  The only sound was the whir of intake fans straining to deal with all the smoke.

  “It was after the doctor,” Dansen Jitt said. “But why?”

  “Lieutenant,” said Silver Zenyo, her uniform torn, her hair mussed, her makeup smeared. She lifted a cracked fingernail and pointed at the vu-screen. “I think your answer’s there!”

  Jitt looked—and something touched his mind, a whisper-vision, a voice, a broadcast of incredible depth and power.

  And Dansen Jitt knew the real meaning of fear.

  Laura Shemzak had been involved with a number of space melees during her career, with a solid background of countless hours in training simulation, with subliminal attitude adjustment that made her view the interchange of lasers and photon torpedoes and what all as rather a sport. She could dance around a bigger ship like a bee about a bush, using the generally superior biotechnology and weaponry of her blip-ship to the utmost advantage over much larger and higher-powered vessels. Her ultrahuman intuitive capabilities allowed her to anticipate and dodge power beams her force fields were incapable of dealing with.

  However, when she hovered within five hundred meters of the ships hung in the tractor beams like flies in sparkling amber, her sensors immediately noted that none of the weapons blisters seemed prepared to fire upon her. So she scooted about the periphery of the tractor beams’ influence, trying to determine the best way to put one of the ships’ engines out of commission.

  Up close, she could see why they were called whip-ships. They were long and cylindrical, with nodes and blisters and ports in oddly symmetrical patterns, and a strange elasticity. Portions of the hulls were translucent, revealing odd and definitely alien inner workings; she could not make head or tail of her sensor sweep data.

  I wonder if Cal is somewhere in one of those ships, she thought to herself, trying to pick up any kind of readings with identifiable patterns.

  No, she concluded. There was nothing human in either of those ships, unless the Jaxdron had shielded Cal somehow.

  Finally she gave up and just decided to let one of the ships have a strong taste of her firepower to the rear.

  She fired.

  The blast made the stern of the whip-ship glow red briefly, but nothing more.

  Damn! What kind of stuff was this hull made of, anyway?

  She had no chance to find out, for just as she fired again, the tractor beams disappeared, and the Jaxdron ships streaked away, causing her shot to miss entirely and leaving her uncharacteristically surprised.

  Her intuition, however, was strong enough to use a starboard impeller to abandon her present position, which prevented her from being more than stunned by a blast of tremendous proportions from one of the ships.

  And there was more …. Subliminally she detected some kind of psychic broadcast, content unrecognizable.

  She spun away through space away from the Starbow, struggling for control. By the time she was able to right herself, the Jaxdron ships were too far away for her to have any hope of pursuing them further.

  What the hell had happened? That boarding vessel …. The creatures inside must have gotten to the controls. A kind of panic hit her, a fear, a pain …

  She realized that she didn’t want these people to be hurt. For some reason she had a feeling for them, a concern ….

  Quickly she sped to the boarding dock.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Laura docked within the Starbow and made it to the bridge in record time.

  Smoke still hung in the air over the wreckage of the robots, both human simulacrum and alien, that lay strewn all over. Arkm Thur and Captain Northern were busy assaying the damage.

  Dansen Jitt, in the command chair, looked as though he had just taken poison and was waiting for it to take effect.

  In the corner lay Dr. Mish, twisted circuitry hanging from his blackened chest.

  “Dr. Mish!” Laura cried, stepping back with horror. She blinked.

  “Dr. Mish is a robot?” she said.

  Captain Northern walked over to the still form and twisted off the head. “Alas, poor Yorick,” he said.

  The eyes in the separated head seemed to light. “Watch out for that poisoned sword tip, my friend.” The voice emerged from the mouth cavity, though the jaws did not move.

  Northern related to Laura what had happened. “Somehow,” he finished, “the Jaxdron knew that to cut that tractor beam, they had to break Mish’s concentration. So they sent their boarding robots and accomplished that task quite handily.”

  “Alas,” said a powerful voice, seeming to throb through the air with the authority of God himself. “I was locked into my interface with that particular construct, and its destruction did indeed … ah … break my concentration.”

  “And?”

  “Amazing, Captain,” said the voice. “Quite like nothing I’ve ever encountered before. And during their little strafing run they hit me with a remarkably powerful analysis ray.”

  “Oh?”

  “Fortunately, it wasn’t powerful enough for them to get a full reading.”

  Laura shook her head. “This is too much for me, guys. I shoot my own brother, who turns out not to be my brother at all but one of a trio of clone-cyborgs. A couple of Jaxdron ships thumb their noses at us. I come back to find Dr. Mish lying in pieces on the floor, and talking to us like Zeus from Mount Olympus.”

  “There are more things in heaven and earth, Laura Shemzak, than are dreamt of in your philosophy,” replied Northern softly.

  “Captain,” said Dansen Jitt, with haunted eyes. “I know which way they’re going. I know where they have taken Cal Shemzak. Somehow my mind touched something inside those ships.”

  “Very good, Jitt,” said Northern. “I knew you’d be worth your keep one day. Set a course toward wherever that place is, immediately.”

  “Captain, I realize that this is familiar, but I saw that something terrible, something worse than even imagination can describe, will happen if we follow those ships. I can’t explain it, but please believe me—”

  “The wolf or its pack, Jitt?”

  “The pack, Captain, with a few werewolves thrown in for good measure.”

  “Set the course, Jitt. I’ll examine your report at my leisure. And I want a full analysis of these Jaxdron robots.” He looked down at Mish’s head, then tossed it back on the floor. “Crew meeting in an hour. There are some things that I must explain to you all now that this has happened. Also, there are items to discuss with you, Pilot Shemzak. I think you deserve some explanations.” He turned to the clearly upset crewmembers. “You all deserve explanations.”

  Laura took time for a quick shower, so when she entered the stateroom for the meeting, she felt, although baffled, at least refreshed.

  The lights were turned low, and small globes here and there created a distinct candlelight effect.

  Captain Northern and his crew sat in silence around the table, solemn and sober. They all wore military outfits of unique
design, rich with crests, aiguillettes, trim, ties, standing collars, and epaulets. The silver, maroon, and gray seemed to glow softly.

  “Please take the empty chair, Pilot Shemzak,” Captain Northern instructed.

  “What is this, church?” Laura said, sitting down, impressed with the aura of ceremony.

  “Not quite, Pilot Shemzak,” the captain responded softly.

  “I rather like that notion,” the reverberating, timbreful voice said.

  Laura started. “Well, I figured it out, Dr. Mish, or whatever you are. You’re really the ship’s computer, aren’t you, operating that robot by remote control! Am I right, Northern?”

  “Partially, Laura. However, the rather annoying voice you hear belongs not just to the ship’s computer. It is, quite simply, the voice of the Starbow. You sit in a sentient ship, Pilot Shemzak.”

  “AI Project,” Laura murmured. “Of course!” she said loudly. “Artificial Intelligence. So you stole an artificially intelligent ship from the Federation, Northern?”

  “Please,” said the voice of the Starbow. “I dislike the term ‘artificial.’ I am less artificial than you, Pilot Shemzak, and quite a bit more intelligent.”

  “Whatever. That answers some questions. I always wondered why they didn’t have AI stuff in the Federation. Looks as though they gave it a try and didn’t like the results. Am I right?”

  “Something like that, Laura,” Captain Northern said. “There were five ships like the Starbow. Overfriend Zarpfrin was in charge of the operation. As soon as the artificially intelligent ships were able to think for themselves, they decided they did not care to work on the assignments that the Federation had in store for them. They planned to depart Federation space, but there was a traitor among the pilots of the AI project. I don’t know who it was. Suffice it to say, the Starbow and I were the only ship and pilot to escape Federation control.”

  “I can see why you haven’t any particular fondness for the Feddies or the Friends,” said Laura.

 

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