Rebel Fleet

by B. V. Larson

  “Hmm…” I said. “A bureaucrat? What’s your title?”

  “I’m Secretary Thoth,” he said, as if this should explain everything.

  In a way, it did. The Rebels had never seemed to me to be overly organized. They were an alliance of necessity. They reminded me of the UN back home, or maybe NATO. Worse than that, even.

  “Well, why am I hanging in straps with a rubber hose up my ass?” I demanded.

  A few of the delegates twisted their necks and peered, no doubt trying to catch a glimpse of this imaginary hose. I let them look.

  “We must apologize,” the Secretary said, “but you’ve put us in an awkward position.”

  “How so?”

  “Your… experiment… should not have been allowed. It may even have doomed more of our planets.”

  Frowning, I looked from one to the next. “Cut me down from here, sirs,” I said. “Let me show you how to do what I did today.”

  “That was four days ago, actually,” said one of them.

  “Whatever. We destroyed three cruisers with a single carrier. I can do more than that. Let me show you how.”

  “It’s not that simple,” the Secretary said. “We don’t want an escalation.”

  “An escalation?” I asked incredulously. “What are you talking about? The Imperials are destroying whole worlds out there!”

  “Yes. But they weren’t angry then, just having a little fun. If we were to hurt them badly, however, they might take this to the next level.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Secretary Thoth came near. He seemed to have more balls than most of them.

  “You have to understand our position. I’ve recently researched your world. You have historical precedents. You have nuclear weapons, yes?”

  “Of course we do.”

  “But do you use them in every conflict? Do your leaders drop one, for example, when a city riots?”

  “No, that would be absurd.”

  “Exactly! A clear overreaction. Now, what if a hunter stalks and kills game animals—but one of the animals gets lucky and kills the hunter. Would you blow up the entire forest?”

  “No…” I said, almost laughing.

  But a part of me was beginning to understand what he was saying.

  “You mean…” I said, “that we have to be careful, because the Imperials have more power than they were displaying against us right now?”

  “Exactly. The ships they’ve sent to invade our space are only training vessels. We don’t want to face their actual warships.”

  I nodded slowly.

  “What’s our strategy then?” I asked. “How do we go about defeating the Imperials?”

  The scientist ape who’d been prodding me earlier turned toward Admiral Fex who I now noticed was at the rear of the pack. “You’re right. He’s a smart one. Dangerous…”

  Admiral Fex nodded nervously. I had the feeling he’d also stepped in this without meaning to.

  “We’ve determined that you’re operating your technical miracle purely out of your sym,” the Secretary said. “That’s very impressive. Doctor Shug, here, is to be credited.”

  He waved forward the ape I’d met first. The short guy with the fur coat and the lousy bedside manner.

  “Doctor Shug,” the Secretary continued, “is the being who invented your sym. You’ve done more with it than we’d ever thought possible.”

  “That’s right,” Shug said, “the syms were designed to quickly build up a coherent force from an incoherent mass of recruits. They sped up the selection process, facilitated translation and training—many things.”

  “Right,” I said, “but by giving us a universal interface that can work with networks, you created a hacking platform that we humans were able to use to our advantage.”

  “Exactly,” Secretary Thoth said, bobbing his head happily. “I’m very glad we had this talk. Your understanding of the situation wasn’t entirely necessary, but it will make the rest of this unfortunate process so much easier. Thank you.”

  “It will stand up in court, if challenged,” announced another skinny fellow in the back. “As the state’s attorney, I’d now be willing to argue the execution was done appropriately. It’s a sad case, but unavoidable.”

  My expression went from a baffled frown to one of alarm. “Execution?” I asked.

  “Yes,” Secretary Thoth said, turning back to me. “Isn’t it obvious that’s why we’re here? We’re a Rebel Tribunal, Blake. A duly appointed group of representatives. Your case was tried over the preceding days, and your public defender was most eloquent—where is she, by the way?”

  He looked around the group, but no one raised their hand.

  “Well, no matter,” he said. “She failed to convince the body at large you were innocent by reason of ignorance. Execution was the verdict, but legally we had to inform you. You’ve now been formally and publicly sentenced, with all the appropriate officials present. The bylaws have thus been satisfied, and we can proceed.”

  “The bylaws…?” I echoed, stunned. “You people are insane! I saved your hairy asses! I can save more of you if you’ll let me out of these straps. I’ll lead your ragtag fleet to victory, if you just—”

  “The prisoner is becoming agitated,” Secretary Thoth said smoothly. “Shug?”

  The short ape trundled forward, giving me a reluctant shake of the head. He tapped at a bulb at the end of a needle stuck in my neck. The bulb shivered and pumped.

  I felt woozy. They were drugging me. In immediate reaction, I went limp and drooled on the floor.

  “You gave him too much!” Secretary Thoth admonished.

  “Strange…” Doctor Shug said. “Well, I am new to his biology. Perhaps the stress cortisones in his system reacted with the—”

  “Who cares? Did you kill him?”

  “No...” Shug said, consulting his instruments.

  “Good… We’ll do it right then, in public, tomorrow. Record everything in case the Imperial Hunting Council demands an accounting. Admiral Fex, you’re lucky you’re not the one hanging up there by your balls.”

  “Yes Mr. Secretary,” I heard Fex say. “I’m so sorry, sir.”

  “Save it, Admiral,” Thoth said. He indicated me with a head gesture, which I could see through my half-closed eyes. “Don’t screw this up, Dr. Shug.”

  “No, Mr. Secretary. That’s not my habit.”

  Then the group shuffled out. I let myself dangle in my straps, as limp as a wet dishtowel.

  After a full minute, I felt a hairy presence under me. It breathed, and it stank, forcing me to finally crack one eye.

  Dr. Shug grinned up at me.

  “I knew you were faking,” he said. “You are the best of our breed, Blake. Every trait is present in your genes, outlined in glorious detail. Devious, resourceful—it’s going to be a shame to toss your corpse into the furnace.”

  Then he followed the rest of them. He made a tsking sound as he shambled off.

  =46=

  My next play wasn’t going to be an easy one. Rebel tech wasn’t like Imperial tech. It was built to keep devious types out.

  But I had experience now, as did my sym. The symbiotic was really the key to the whole thing. It was, as far as I could tell, the single biggest advance the Rebels had made that went beyond what the Imperials could do. The ironic thing was that they hadn’t invented it to break into security systems. It was built to influence emotions and provide a standard interface for countless people from many different planets.

  It performed with nearly flawless precision on those accounts—but it was the extra, unexpected ability I was interested in now.

  “Sym, my old friend,” I said, talking to the loose collective of cells that resided in my body with me. “I need some magic now. Get me out of this harness.”

  Fortunately, even the Rebels worked with high tech gadgetry in their labs. They didn’t use mechanical locks with keys or combinations. They used electronics.

  Tight bands of metal wi
re were inside the straps that had me bound. They were very strong. Not even the biggest primate could have broken them.

  But I didn’t have to use brute force. I simply gave my sym the order and waited. Now and then, it tossed back a report that printed on the inside of my retina. It was trying out combinations of signals to hack the locks on my wrists.

  This went on for more time than I felt was reasonable. I tried not to look nervous or to fidget while waiting, but it was difficult.

  My life might very well depend on some sentient slime that coursed through my veins. That was pretty much what a brain was, of course, but somehow this time around it felt different because I wasn’t in conscious control of what the sym was doing. It was like having to depend on your subconscious to solve your problems.

  After nearly an hour, I was beginning to despair. I told myself I should get some sleep, that maybe I’d get a chance to break free in a more conventional fashion in the morning.

  But there was no way I could do that. My body was humming with adrenaline. I was hungry, my limbs ached, and I wanted to get the hell out of here immediately.

  At some point during the second hour, I heard a familiar shuffling gait. Dr. Shug was coming back.

  Shit, I thought. Could it be morning already? Could I have misjudged the time, or perhaps they were on a different schedule in this star system? I had no idea, but I knew I didn’t want to be marched to my execution yet.

  When I saw him, he looked me up and down, and a new worry gripped me. Did he know what I was up to? Was he monitoring net traffic and therefore been alerted to the clumsy efforts of my sym? It was perfectly possible. These guys were far more sophisticated when it came to security compared to the Imperials.

  He put his hands on his hips, which I found to be a very human gesture.

  “Disappointing,” he said.

  “Who? Me?”

  “Yes. I’ve gambled and lost this time.”

  He sighed and began working on a panel off to one side of the room. I saw numbers flash up, but I had no idea what they might indicate.

  “I don’t understand,” I said.

  “Of course you don’t. You got lucky out there against the Imperials, that’s all. I’m a fool.”

  It was right about at this point in the conversation that my left wrist came free. I almost blew it by yelping aloud as it fell and dangled. Damn it was sore, and a little bit numb. I drew a sharp breath, trying not to hiss.

  “Yes,” Dr. Shug said, “I see these clumsy transmissions. Simply repeating codes until you get the right one? The stuff of amateurs. This log of access-attempts is a disgrace.”

  My left arm was operating now, but it was still sore and weak. I reached to unbuckle the central strap that held my chest, and it fell away in my hands. It had already been unlocked.

  Dr. Shug scrolled down the data listed in front of him. I knew now that he was looking at a sequential log of attempted security hacking. The work my sym had been doing over the last hour or so.

  “Hmm…” he said, pausing. “This is different. It’s advanced several notches. The data from the earlier responses is being used as feedback… Could it be learning from its mistakes?”

  I didn’t answer. I was too busy struggling with the last major buckles. All the locks were off and dangling. If Shug had been looking at current data instead of an old log, he would have surely noticed this. But like many technical people, he was lost in the details.

  The next thing that happened was very painful. I’d forgotten about the needles and tubes stuck into my body. When the harness let me go, these all ripped out in a wave of pain. It was like being stabbed by a dozen long forks at once from every angle.

  I landed on my face with a meaty slap. Summoning what I had left in the way of physical prowess, I forced myself to my feet, grabbed one of these dripping, pencil-thick metal needles and approached the doctor.

  He’d turned around by now. He stood there, mouth agape, transfixed by what he saw. I must have looked pretty scary. After all, he was a small primate.

  My right hand jabbed forward. He caught it in both of his. He was quick and strong—stronger than he looked. If there was one trait a primate typically possessed, it was physical power.

  My left hand jabbed then. My right had been a fake. It no longer held the needle. I got him in the belly.

  I felt a pang of sorrow about all this. I kind of liked Shug—but I liked breathing even more.

  He gasped and made a choking sound. He looked down in disbelief.

  Then, he did something I wasn’t expecting at all. He looked up at me and smiled.

  “Well done, you tricky savage! Well done! There is hope!”

  I heard clapping behind me. I whirled around, almost falling as I was still off-balance from spending hours in those dangling straps. The needle in my hand glinted with a splash of fresh, red blood dribbling from the tip.

  There was the gaggle of other apes. Two of the guardians were with them, stunners leveled.

  Everyone but the guardians seemed happy about the situation.

  “Tell me,” Dr. Shug said, hobbling around to face me again, “why did you wait so long to make your move? Did you want a hostage? I’m intrigued as to the cunning details of your plans.”

  I gaped at him, then at the delegation. The Secretary was among them. I addressed him first.

  “What the hell is wrong with you people?” I demanded. “Was this all some kind of joke?”

  “No,” Secretary Thoth said. “Not at all. As you can see, we’re not laughing. We had to test you. It’s our way.”

  “Yeah,” I said, seeking a chair and sinking into it. “So, you’re not going to execute me at dawn?”

  There were a few twitters from the group at that. Apparently, some of them had a sense of humor.

  “No, of course not,” Secretary Thoth said. “We owe you an apology, but you have to understand, if we follow your methods in a large battle, we’re risking all of our home worlds. You can understand how serious this is, can’t you?”

  “I guess…” I muttered in irritation.

  Dr. Shug had been working a healing patch onto his skin where I’d stabbed him, but now approached me. He had another handful of patches, so I let him do his work. He sealed up the holes the needles had left in my skin, and I soon felt better.

  “You’re one tricky fur-ball yourself,” I told him. “Did you turn your back on me to encourage me to make my move?”

  “Yes. We’ve all been watching for about two hours while you did virtually nothing. We were growing bored, so we came up with this charade to get you moving.”

  Every complaint about primates I’d heard for months echoed in my mind. I was beginning to really get why the other groups found them irritating.

  The Secretary stepped closer and smiled at me. “You did perform in the end, Blake. Admirably. We locked you up with standard hardware, no cheating. To pass the test, you had to successfully escape this room.”

  “That’s great…” I mumbled, rubbing my head. “They told me during my training that primates were tricky, but I had no idea.”

  “Now, now, don’t sell yourself short,” Shug said. “That switch of the weapon from one hand to the other—that was masterful.”

  “Glad you liked it,” I said. “I also enjoyed sinking that icepick into you as payback.”

  His face faltered for a second, and that brought me a small tickle of happiness. I didn’t want these clowns thinking they could relax completely around me.

  Shug shuffled back a few steps, and I knew I’d earned his respect.

  “This is interesting…” said the Secretary. “You’re a predator and a primate. That’s a rare combination. I can see why you’ve climbed our hierarchy so rapidly.”

  “Listen,” I said, “is there any chance I can get some sleep in a real bed now? And where the hell is my crew?”

  “There will be a few hours for rest before the next phase. As to your crew, they’re all in cells awaiting the outcome of this
test.”

  “What would have happened if I’d failed?”

  “Well…” the Secretary said, fidgeting with his hairy, overly-long thumbs. “It’s best not to think about that... The good news is that you didn’t fail. You won through, and we’ve all agreed to give your plan another try on a much bigger scale.”

  “What’s my part in this Charley-Foxtrot going to be?” I asked him.

  He looked confused. “What’s the meaning of that idiom? The translation system has failed.”

  “Never mind,” I told him with a grin. “What do you want to do next?”

  He told me then, and before the end of his explanation, I had a fresh headache to contend with.

  =47=

  We spent the next several weeks training others how to use their syms to take over an Imperial network. One of the problems we had was the requirement of getting in close enough to the enemy to subvert their security systems. The only viable ships we had that could do it were fighters.

  “Here’s the core of the plan,” Shaw said, marching back and forth in front of the fighter crews. “Our big gunships are going to knock down the shields on every tenth enemy vessel. Then, a group of five fighters with trained crews from Killer will do the hacking attack.

  “What will prevent the enemy from wiping us out?” Ra-tikh demanded.

  “A full squadron from another carrier will lead the way,” Shaw explained.

  “Ah…” Ra-tikh said happily. “I like that. They will be lifting our tails for us, killing themselves to keep us safe.”

  Shaw didn’t answer, he merely shrugged and went on outlining the plan. I hardly listened as I knew the details by heart—hell, I’d come up with a lot of them.

  Before long, we were strapping in and getting ready to launch. Extending my perception, I reached out with my sym and saw the Rebel Fleet begin to create rifts and plunge through them.

  A dozen cruisers vanished, then fifty more. The battleships followed—we only had six of those left. Last in line, the carriers exited the system. Killer was the very last ship to vanish from this part of the universe, and a moment later we reappeared somewhere else.