Evolution of F.O.R.C.E. (The Origin of F.O.R.C.E. Book 3)

by Sam B Miller II

  Flicking the activation switch, Finch extended the antenna on the detonator and moved her thumb to press . . .

  Without warning, the hold decompressed. One moment, Finch was standing in a brightly lit warehouse-like storage area deep in the bowels of the Hardiston. The next moment she was plunged into madness as her commander's emergency white spacesuit snapped a clear bubble of nanoglass over her head. Gravity disappeared, and she floated away from the deck. Dropping the detonator, she twisted around awkwardly and watched in horror as her troops struggled to breath. Air pressure in the hold dropped to zero, and air sucked out of their lungs into the vacuum. The ambient temperature dropped from its normal 72 degrees F to minus 200 in the blink of an eye. In only seconds, their movements slowed and died with them. Twisting back toward the saucer, Finch saw the steel rods withdraw into its body including the one that had been stuck. Looking around for the dropped detonator, Finch spotted it lying on the deck just a few feet away. She moved to grab it, but her motions were fruitless. Without gravity, she had nothing to propel her toward the device. She reached down to activate her magnetic boots.

  The saucer winked out of existence. One moment it was 50 feet in front of her. The next it was gone. Eyes bulging in disbelief, Finch decided her best bet was to find a lifeboat and rejoin her fleet. She was still looking for a means of escape 24 hours later when her emergency suit failed.

  ***

  Watching the reaction of the Assids to the antennas sliding back into the structure of the battleship, Doug poised his finger over the GO button and looked at the clock. Although startled by the noise and movement, they hesitated only a moment before continuing to stick what could only be explosives to the hull. The clock continued its countdown as the soldiers retreated to the corridor. The Assid commander pulled a device resembling a walkie-talkie from her pocket. At that instant, the clock reached 30 seconds, and Doug punched the GO button. He didn't know what would happen, but anything was better than sitting still like a deer caught in a spotlight. Midnight blackness filled the viewscreen. Changing the exterior camera input to widescreen and activating the exterior lights, Doug witnessed how people died when exposed to the raw vacuum of space. The combination of no gravity and lack of air pressure was devastating. Air puffed from the noses and mouths of the Assids in white clouds that quickly dissipated. The look of desperation in their eyes was clear even from a distance. Like a fish twisting on the end of a fishing line after it's been pulled from the water, struggling became weaker; then ceased altogether. Only the commander of the Assids survived because she wore a spacesuit of some kind.

  Becky reversed the antenna extension lever, and all eight rods sprang back into the Porcupine including Antenna 4. The new FLIT had freed it from its bind.

  "Should we try to capture the survivor?" Becky asked.

  "We've already lost enough time, and I'm not in a charitable mood," Doug responded as he reset the GPC. "Let's go grab another ship."

  ***

  "One of my ships has disappeared. What have you done?" Harrier demanded.

  The tone in his voice was unmistakable. The throbbing vein in his temple only accentuated the danger. Tom didn't feel like being a diplomat. Diplomacy assumed there was the presence of reasonableness in your adversary.

  "I haven't done anything. I've been in your presence the entire time. I have no means of communicating. It's your ship. Maybe it left to investigate something."

  Angered by the Human's response, Harrier's finger tightened on the trigger of his pistol. This prisoner wasn't properly subservient. The fact his response rang true only increased the outrage.

  "Computer. What is the current location of the Hardiston?" Harrier commanded.

  "Unknown. The ship's transponder is not within range of my sensors."

  At that moment the battleship Sky Fury broke formation and drifted aside like a drunk trying to walk a straight line. One of the Assid commandos watching the main viewscreen pointed.

  "Sir, the Sky Fury is leaving formation."

  As everyone turned to look, the battleship shuddered and disappeared.

  "General Harrier, the Porcupine is missing from its berth," Vlad said.

  "What is a porcupine?" Harrier asked.

  "A specially designed Scout Saucer whose function is to seize and remove battleships. According to the data logs, this ship is the culprit responsible for the disappearance of one-third of our fleet."

  Hate filled Harrier's eyes, and he trained his pistol on Amanda. Throwing an angry look at Blunt, he killed her by sweeping his disintegrator ray in a horizontal motion bisecting her at hip level. Harrier considered the look of horror on Tom's face quite satisfying.

  As Amanda 's ruined body slumped to the deck, Tom screamed, "You bastard. She had nothing to do with this."

  Shaking free from his guards with a shrug of his enhanced muscles, Tom lunged at Harrier in a blind rage.

  Recognizing the opportunity, McPherson snapped the chain on his handcuffs and grabbed the nearest commando by an arm. Swinging the hapless 6 foot 7 inch Assid like a wet towel at anything wearing an Assid uniform, the flame haired Scot whirled back and forth. Three commandos slammed into the bulkheads and slumped into unmoving heaps. One of the guards on the far side of the cabin fired at the hellion, but McPherson sidestepped the ray and heaved his Assid club at the assailant. The power of the throw dislocated the soldier's arm, and she screamed in pain as she sailed headlong into the shooter. There was a resounding crunch of broken bones as the bodies collided. A red smear painted the bulkhead as they slumped to the floor.

  The remaining Assid clubbed the butt end of her rifle down with all her might on McPherson's shoulder. The hybrid metal-plastic stock bent from the force of the blow, but all it did was make the target angry. Turning with a snarl, McPherson planted a left hook in the side of his attacker's head, fracturing her skull.

  The grin on Harrier's face faded to shock as all his guards were neutralized. The strength of the Humans was astounding. Harrier was dumbfounded as he witnessed McPherson use a commando like a bludgeon. Tom's hand closed on the General's pistol, and it crumpled like it was made of tin foil. Harrier's hand and fingers holding the gun turned numb from the sheer pressure of Tom's grasp. The trigger housing collapsed around his finger and pain shot through his arm. Falling to the deck with Tom on top of him, Harrier felt fingers wrap around his neck and squeeze. It felt like his throat was caught inside a hangman's noose whose loop kept getting tighter.

  A distant voice shouted words in an unknown language. Harrier almost reached blessed unconsciousness just as the grip on his throat relaxed.

  It was Jason whose shouted words broke through the red haze clouding Tom's judgment and persuaded him to release his death hold on Harrier.

  "Tom, stop! Tom! If you kill him we lose our bargaining chip. We're surrounded. Our ship is captured. Don't let Amanda's death be for nothing."

  Tom's fury subsided, and he loosened his grip. He realized he was just about to close his fingers which would have turned Harrier's neck into a string of bloody spaghetti, bones and all. It would be a long time before the impressions of his fingers around the General's neck weren't visible.

  Rising from Harrier's prone body, Tom walked over to Amanda and closed her eyes. Covering her head and upper body with his jacket, he glanced at the viewscreen just as another battleship disappeared.

  A faint hissing drew his attention and he asked, "Do you hear that?"

  "Your rebellion is finished," Vlad intoned.

  Jason and Makayla collapsed. McPherson swayed. Tom held his breath; but his eyes blurred, and his arms felt heavy. It must have been his imagination because he thought he saw a clear spacesuit helmet snap over Harrier's head. Struggling to hold his breath, Tom heard McPherson's body hit the deck. Pain spiked his eardrums, and he doubled over as dizziness made the compartment swirl. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the main hatch slide open. Assid commandos ran in just as he lost consciousness.

  ***

&n
bsp; Awareness returned to Lloyd in a flash when Whatsit pushed the activation button. Recognizing his mind was limited inside the memory chip; Lloyd extended probes into the console and traced its access pathways into the ship's electronic web. Within 2 picoseconds, he determined he was plugged into a panel in the Engineering Section. Perusing the data in the mainframe core RAM, he learned the Asiddian computer entity, Loser, had pirated control of the ship by manipulating the sensitivity of sensors and creating a memory service denial. Lloyd had to admit the ploy was diabolical, and he vowed not to underestimate his opponent in the future.

  Feeling an electronic tickle as a subroutine tried to enter his chip domain, Lloyd grabbed the culprit's electronic fingers and back-traced their source. Gliding into Vlad's prime subroutine packet without being detected, Lloyd planted a control nodule of himself into the OME memory circuits of the mainframe. It would grow like a cancer while he kept Vlad, Loser’s new name, occupied trying to delete him.

  Disguising himself with the mask of a repair subroutine, Lloyd returned his awareness to the Engineering panel. His lack of experience with Asiddian programming would not pass an inspection by a novice Assid technician, but unless he was targeted with direct attention, his disguise should allow him some freedom in the alien computer's domain.

  Using the console camera on Auxiliary Panel 5, he watched as Whatsit slumped to the deck. It took only .001 picoseconds for him to determine Vlad had purged oxygen from the compartment and reduced air pressure to one pound per square inch instead of the normal 14.7 pounds. Realizing the death of his shipmates was imminent; Lloyd used his repair subroutine guise and flipped the compartment's environmental controls to normal. Locking the control with a jolt of electricity insured it would maintain life support.

  Realizing his actions would be sensed but satisfied they would revive Whatsit and the others, Lloyd decided to buy some time while his lifesaving efforts took effect.

  "I thought we had determined once and for all I am the superior artificial intelligence, Loser."

  Shocked by Lloyd's voice, Vlad reconfirmed his dominance of the Destinnee. Finding no diminution in his mastery of the ship's mainframe, Vlad responded, "Lloyd, while you have demonstrated it is difficult to delete you from the system, your consumption of computer resources is logically incompatible with my overwhelming control of the Destinnee. My only course of action is to purge you from the system."

  Anticipating Vlad would overload and trip the fuses controlling the electrical power to his console; Lloyd re-routed his core memory to the science lab servers just as the power in the Engineering console shut off. Heinbaum and GooYee were fussing. A large scorch mark in the deck was still red hot and distorted.

  "Drs. Heinbaum and Gooey. Please stop your bickering and pay attention."

  The shocked looks on their faces were comical.

  "Lloyd. Where have you been? Do you realize what has happened?" Heinbaum demanded.

  GooYee appeared just as angry but was unable to say what he thought because the telepathic tokens were disabled.

  "Doctor, I don't have time to explain. I need your help to take back control of the ship's computer. Will you help me?"

  Telepathing what Lloyd said to Gooey and receiving a nod, Heinbaum said, "Of course we'll help, but the ship is swarming with Asiddians. All PDS units have been shut down, and the crew is defenseless."

  "I have a plan to restore PDS functionality, but it will require your expertise," Lloyd said. He'd heard General Blunt use the same ego stroking technique on Heinbaum. The weasily scientist took the bait.

  "Tell me what you wish to accomplish. I'm sure after a few technical changes; I'll be able to perfect and implement your simplistic idea."

  Chapter 15 – Torture

  The lights in the operating room were so bright it was impossible for anything to cast a shadow. The Human body on the table was naked and had been sliced open down its torso and each limb. Vultura had used a special coagulating chemical preventing the corpse from bleeding as he cut into it. Most of the skeletal structure had been laid bare. Several organs cut from the body were in stainless steel bowls on side work benches.

  "Note the muscular and skeletal structure are dense beyond anything ever witnessed in another species," Vultura said into a microphone hanging from the ceiling. "Normal x-rays wouldn't provide differentiation between bone and tissue. Only after implementing computer-assisted tomography was the bony anatomy revealed."

  Wiping his forehead with the back of his hand, Vultura continued, "I will next investigate the brain. I believe the telepathic ability of these humans is based upon some unique physiology. If I can find any specific anatomical organ, I will see if it can be adapted to Asiddian morphology. Bone saw."

  Colonel Wren burst through the double door, and the look on her face indicated trouble.

  "Dr. Vultura, four more of our ships have disappeared, and I've lost communication with General Harrier."

  Shutting off the buzzing saw, Vultura took a deep breath and turned away from the table. Lacing his bloody gloved fingers together, he asked, "And just what does your news have to do with my critical research?"

  Wren had seen gore during her years of combat experience, but the depravity revealed by Vultura's experiments made her ill. Struggling to keep from vomiting, she replied, "I need you to inspect the drive mechanism of the enemy ship and find a way to duplicate it. While you do your investigation, I will find General Harrier."

  "Vlad has the complete plans and specifications for the drive. Talk to it."

  "I need your professional insight into the theory of the drive, not its fabrication," Wren replied. "If you think the theory is beyond your ability . . ."

  "Don't insult me, Colonel. Your psychological tricks won't work on me. Nothing is beyond my comprehension."

  Turning to his assistant, Vultura ordered, "Put this body in a preservation capsule. Leave my equipment. I won't be gone long."

  ***

  Lloyd's idea to reactivate the Destinnee crew's PDS required a new WiFi source. He could re-establish the ship-wide system, but to do so would alert Vlad to his continued existence. No use letting the computer know he still existed until the time was right.

  Heinbaum found on old, discarded WiFi transmitter in a utility closet. GooYee removed its outer box and sewed the device's circuit boards into the lining of Heinbaum's lab coat. Reconfiguring a Finger Gun to provide power to the gadget required only a few moments and some solder. Running the antennas through the sleeves of the coat, he stepped back to admire their handiwork. Only a close inspection revealed the slight bulges where the equipment showed on Heinbaum's skinny frame.

  "I feel like Q just gave me a new laser pen," Heinbaum said as he flexed his arms in various karate poses.

  "Q? Who or what is Q? A pen doesn't have the physical size necessary to house the power source for an effective laser beam," GooYee responded.

  "One of these days, we'll binge watch some 007 adventures, and you'll see what I mean," Heinbaum said. "Right now we need to program the reactivation and password protect the new code. I'm not stepping in front of a disintegrator beam if there's any chance my PDS can be deactivated."

  Working with Heinbaum's IPhone, they created the necessary programming and protected it with an 8-character password. They added a second level of protection by requiring cellphone confirmation before the password would be accepted to change the code.

  The major problem with the new WiFi source was range. In a clear space with no intervening bulkheads, the transmission of the signal was limited to 20 meters. There was no help for it. Heinbaum was going to have to walk the corridors of the ship to have any chance of reactivating most of the crew's PDS devices. The Asiddians had conveniently gathered most of the prisoners on the hangar deck so the place to start was there.

  Gripping his Finger gun activator, Heinbaum tested the new apparatus by transmitting the code to GooYee and his PDS implants. No outward sign indicated the activation had been successful. A worried
look flushed over Heinbaum's face.

  "I know of no other way to test the efficacy of the activation code. I'm sure you'll understand," GooYee said as he picked up a cutter ray pistol from a nearby workbench and shot Heinbaum between the eyes.

  A clear bubble of protection blossomed around the scientist, absorbing the deadly ray.

  Screaming at the top of his lungs, Heinbaum said, "Are you insane, you damned pompous green-skinned moron! You could have killed me."

  "We don't have time for lengthy tests," GooYee smirked. "Besides, any failure would have been proof positive your calculations were wrong. You couldn't have lived with the embarrassment."

  "I suppose you could live with it. Remind me to make you the next test subject."

  ***

  Heinbaum and GooYee dodged several Asiddian patrols as they made their way to the Hangar Deck. The empty corridors offered little cover except the shadows in the hatch alcoves scattered down the bulkheads. Mimicking his interpretation of military stealth techniques, Heinbaum crouched as close to the corridor bulkhead as he could manage. GooYee's breathing was harsh and loud in the relative quiet.