And then had come the breakthrough that allowed the use of hyper VIII for transportation, and the discovery of hyper IX, the new frontier for communications and com. Which these ships used, and, obviously, the vessels of the New Galactic Empire did not.
“We’re approaching the VIII barrier,” said the Flag Navigator much later.
Niven was now moving at point seven light, and the hole again opened up at the perfect distance from ship. Allowing her to move seamlessly into the brightly glowing dimension that would allow her to move four times faster than her enemies.
They’ll still be able to track our passage, she thought of the one drawback. At four times the distance they would be able to track us in VII. But they don’t have any means of com that will move that much faster than we will, sending a signal through VIII. And they won’t be able to attack us until we drop down to a lower dimension. She smiled a mirthless grin. And they will not enjoy it when we drop down to fight them.
* * *
Watcher held his aching head in his hands, sitting on the bunk, waiting for them to come for him again. I guess I’m not getting out of this now, he thought, aware that his only means of linking with the ship’s computer had been jerked from his head.
The equipment is gone, but do I still have my intellect? He didn’t feel any different mentally, with the exception of access to his implants’ processors. With lesser intellects that would make more of a difference. His brain was the fastest organic processor in the known Universe, and the electronic processors of his implants only added a minor increase to his abilities. And it’s not like there are any other resources I need to connect with here.
The bands on his wrists flew together without warning, almost pulling his arms out of socket and they clanked together in a magnetic lock that even his great strength couldn’t pull apart. They’re coming, he thought, getting to his feet, well aware of the bands on his ankles that were linked together by carbon fiber.
The door to the cell slid open, and an armored Marine walked into the room, his rifle tracking onto the form of the dangerous prisoner. At least they think I’m still dangerous, even with the restraints. That was not a good thing. It would have served him better if they assumed he was totally helpless due to the restraints.
“Any damage to that superior brain of yours?” asked Admiral Carlos Jackson, walking in after a second Marine had entered the room.
“Some pain in my scalp and skull,” he said with a wan smile. “Otherwise, as good as new.”
“Unfortunate,” said the Admiral, frowning. “I was almost hoping that they would have slipped a bit with the laser scalpel.”
“And damage the part of my mind that gives you what you want?”
Watcher saw from the expression that passed across the face of the officer that he had hit the mark. They want that station so bad it hurts them, he thought. They think I can give them the magic word that makes it theirs. And if Pandora wasn’t there, that might be true. I can only hope she went ahead and implemented our plan. I would love to see these assholes show up at the station intending to take possession, to find a couple hundred thousand sentients already in residence.
“We will get what we want, if we have to dissect your brain and pull out the information neuron by neuron,” said the Admiral, mistaking his thoughts.
“That might take you a while,” said Watcher, almost tempted to tell the Admiral why his plan wouldn’t work. But then they might decide to just kill me, and for some reason I’m not quite ready to die.
His thoughts turned to the woman from the past again. Pandora had loved him when he couldn’t love himself, and had saved him from himself, and the station computer that was using him as a pawn. He wanted more than anything to hold her in his arms once again, to kiss her soft lips while looking into her beautiful blue eyes. And sure as the Galaxy spins, she will be coming after me, no matter how much I fear for her. She’s that kind of stiff necked, hard headed woman who would not abandon someone she loves. And she wonders how I could love someone like her, when there is no way I could not.
“We have a while,” said the Admiral with a smile Watcher was sure was meant to make him anxious.
Watcher stared at the man with an expression of calm that he was sure would enrage the officer, who he had pegged as a sadist, like so many of the people he had seen in this organization.
Jackson moved with what to a normal human was blurring speed, and to Watcher was barely adequate. His fist rammed into Watcher’s face with all the strength of his large fit body. Watcher’s head moved just a bit, enough to show the man that he hadn’t had the effect he had wished.
“Take this scum away for questioning,” the Admiral told his Marines as he rubbed his hand. “We’ll see how he likes his daily dose of pain.”
The armored Naval soldiers grabbed Watcher by his upper arms and led him from the room, to where some more of the Marines waited for him. They pulled him along, and he was helpless before their armored strength. Not that I could really do anything if I were free, thought the superman. He was probably the best hand to hand fighter in the Galaxy, and wouldn’t have a chance against men in powered armor suits.
“Welcome,” said the Chief who was the head interrogator, his naval uniform visible under the robes he wore to the interrogation sessions. “Step into my parlor.”
Watcher figured that the robes had to do with some kind of religious order from the Empire. That the man wore it while performing torture gave Watcher a good idea about the principles of that religion. He had tried to ask the Chief questions, to learn what he could about the Empire. And had been informed in no uncertain terms that Watcher was there to answer questions, not to ask them.
“And now we will see how your singular pain resistance works without the implants in your head,” said the Chief.
The Marines pushed Watcher into the chair and locked his wrists and ankles to the magnetic seals. After making sure he was secure, they moved back, and the Chief walked forward, holding the pain induction rod in his hand. He moved the rod over Watcher’s left shoulder and activated it.
Watcher stifled the scream, which brought a smile to the interrogator’s face. He moved the rod over the Watcher’s right shoulder and reactivated it. This time Watcher kept all expression from his face, despite the agony.
“You are very good at controlling yourself, despite the pain we both know you feel,” said the Chief. “Eventually we will reach your breaking point. Everyone has one, even supermen such as yourself. Or should I say, Abomination.”
I love you too, Chief. “And how long will you have to reach my breaking point?” asked Watcher, looking at the man with a slight smile.
“That is the question, isn’t it?” said the man, moving the rod over Watcher’s stomach.
Watcher felt his stomach muscles contract, almost to the point where the contents of his guts were forced up his throat. He let the façade’ of his face slip for a moment, and saw from the smile of the interrogator that he was encouraged by the reaction.
Watcher lost track of the time, only knowing that the agony seemed to stretch into forever. He had read of the ancient hells of the Earth’s religions, a fantasy that he had of course refused to believe. Now, he thought he knew from whence came such ideas, and wondered how people without much in the way of nervous control ever withstood such. They didn’t, he thought through gritted teeth.
* * *
“Admiral Jackson,” said the Admiral on the other end of the com holo. “So good to see you return to Imperial Space. How went the mission?”
Jackson smiled as he looked at the face of the other man, Admiral Emilio Tounces, one of his bitterest rivals. Jackson had received the plum assignment of going after the Abomination, while Tounces had been relegated by high command to lead one of the border squadrons, in a sector that was as free from real action as possible. Of course, that might change if some of the Abomination’s friends come this way. “The Abomination is ours,” said Jackson in a triumphant tone. “I wil
l deliver him to the capital myself.”
Tounces looked like he was about to swallow some sort of bitter fruit. Jackson knew this triumph would give him the credit he needed to rise to the top of his profession, possibly to Fleet command. While his rival would continue to run his squadron of six battleships and twenty escorts out here on the frontier. Where he deserves to be, he thought of the man who had stolen his wife from him, at the time when they were still rising junior officers. She was mine. My property. And he took her.
Moments later the other squadron was dropping off the tactical plot, and Jackson was watching the prisoner as he underwent interrogation. I have to admit, he has courage. I wonder if we will ever get the codes we want out of that oversized brain of his? Looking at the composed face, a calm demeanor despite the sweat that was flowing down his pale skin, he doubted they would get much from him. If we only get enough to get a foothold on the station, then surely we can take the rest. And fulfill our destiny.
“It’s time, sir,” said the Exec over the com. “I’ll take it while you report to The Room.”
Jackson nodded his head, then stood up and walked off the bridge. He really didn’t like The Room. He always felt so, different, when he came out of the place. But regulations dictated that all serving personnel, government, military and security services, had to attend the sessions on a daily basis, unless other duties interfered, such as battle. The Exec would be monitoring his compliance, as he did the other members of the crew. As the Admiral did with him. Everyone monitoring everyone else, making sure that no one deviated.
There were other crew already in the room, some Spacers, a Marine, all sitting on the floor and inhaling the fragrant fumes that issued from the statues along the wall. Colored patterns played on the walls, while subliminal sounds sounded in the background. Jackson sat on the floor in the first open area he came to. In The Room there were no ranks, no status. All were equal.
Jackson opened his mind to the sounds and sights, while he inhaled the fumes that heightened his senses for a short time. Voices played in his head, images in his mind, until the half hour had gone by. As his internal alarm went off he got to his feet, despite his desire to continue sitting there, for another hour, a day, or the end of time. As he walked out of the room he felt refreshed, all thoughts of his own ambition gone. His only desire now was to serve the Emperor, and to expand the Empire to the best of his ability.
Chapter Four
A good deal of tyranny goes by the name of protection.
Crystal Eastman
Home at last, thought Admiral Carlos Jackson as his ships translated back into normal space ten light minutes from the gas giant his homeworld orbited around. The moon was a tiny dot against the surface of the orange tinged giant. A half dozen other large moons swung around the world, six of them in view on the same side of the planet as the capital world. Three of those worlds were also life bearing. Since all of the worlds contained the same kind of life, and no indications of living things past the twenty thousand year mark, they were known to have been terraformed, a gift from the ancestors. The light of the F8 primary shown around one side of the giant planet, and one of the moons was visible as a dark circle against that brilliance.
There were over a hundred transponder icons visible on the tactical displayed on a side holo. Stations, satellites, ships, both in orbit around the individual moons and the gas giant. Ships, military and civilian, moving to and from the moon system, the commerce and might of an expanding super power. And one day it will be the capital of the Galaxy, thought the Admiral, smiling at the view. Even if we capture that station, or one like it, this will remain the home of our Emperor.
The battleship was in a maximum deceleration mode, pulling almost five hundred gravities as her grabber units turned the inertia into heat. Her squadron mates were arrayed around her as she curved her vector to eventually move into an orbit about Kallis, the capital moon.
“This is Kallis space traffic control,” came a voice over the com, as a holo image of a young officer appeared above the Communications Officer’s station. “Imperator, you are cleared to Kallis orbit.”
The Com Officer started to send an acknowledgement that would take over nine minutes to arrive, well before the ships, which were looking at over an hour to decel and insert from their present velocity.
“We have another incoming transmission, sir,” said the Com Officer, looking back at the Admiral with wide eyes. “You’ll want to take this one immediately, sir.”
“Put it on the main viewer,” ordered the Admiral, wondering what couldn’t wait for them to get to the moon, and a decent com lag.
Jackson jumped to his feet as soon as the image appeared on the holo, even though the man on the other end couldn’t see him. At least for the next nine minutes, he thought, then his every action would be scrutinized by the man who ruled them all.
That man was looking out of the screen at him with cold blue eyes, ink black hair over his forehead. The man wore a fleet uniform, with the seven stars of an old Empire Grand High Admiral on his collar. Behind him was the flag of the nation, an armored fist holding a sword dominating the center of the red tapestry.
“My Lord,” said the Admiral to the image of the Emperor Alphonso Kitticaris, the immortal leader of his people. Jackson bowed to the figure, the man who had ruled the Empire for the last five hundred years, ageless, strong and fierce.
“We are so happy to see that you have returned,” said the Emperor, his eyes flashing in the light of the room he was standing in on the capital planet. “And, we trust, with a successful mission to report.”
The Emperor stopped speaking for a moment, and the Admiral was sure the man was waiting for him to speak, even though he wouldn’t hear the words for another eight minutes or so.
“It was successful, my Emperor,” said the Admiral, happy to report such. And wondering how he would have felt if it hadn’t have been. Scared to death, he thought, gesturing for the Com Officer to send the report he had compiled for the Emperor’s eyes. “We have the abomination. I am afraid he has not given us what we seek, but we have brought him to the capital, where your will can break his.”
The Admiral was about to continue when the man on the holo spoke again. “I look forward to seeing your, prisoner. I hope he was not too, inconvenienced by being brought here. I look forward to meeting with you, Admiral, and the singular man you brought with you.”
The holo went blank, and Jackson felt himself relax for the first time since the Emperor had appeared. The man was more than a man to the people of the Empire. He was a God, his divine word the law of the land. And the superior to that monster we have brought with us.
“Tell the Chief Interrogator to have the prisoner ready for transport as soon as we enter orbit around Kallis,” he told the Com Officer. I will receive another star for this, he thought, reaching up and fingering the four symbols already on his collar. I will become the second ranking officer in the fleet. And when Admiral Luca retires, I will be the new CNO.
The Admiral sat in his chair and smiled all the way into orbit, waiting until they were on the final vector change before he got up and headed for his quarters. There, he allowed his steward to dress him in his best uniform, the one with all of the medals he had earned, including a pair given him by the hand of the Emperor himself. He looked in the large mirror in his quarters while his steward made the last minute adjustments, then belted the ceremonial sword about his waist.
“You look perfect, my Lord,” said the Steward, looking at his charge with the adoring eyes of a brainwashed slave toward his master.
“I do,” said the Admiral, smiling. “You may take this evening for yourself.”
The slave bowed, a smile stretching his face, and the Admiral felt the glow of a master who had treated his slave well. He turned and walked from his quarters, heading for the shuttle hangar that would take him down to the surface of the moon.
“The Emperor is waiting for the pleasure of your company,” he to
ld the Abomination when he got to the shuttle. The bald superman was actually dressed presentably for once, wearing a well-made civilian worker’s jumpsuit that had been prepared for this occasion. “You may have thought you accomplished something by withholding the information I sought, but your stubbornness will do no good against someone who is your superior.”
The Abomination continued to stare at him, a look that made the Admiral uncomfortable, to say the least. He nodded his head at the chief of the Marine guards, and the two battle suited men at Watcher’s arms hustled him aboard the shuttle.
“Behold, the glory of the Empire I serve,” said the Admiral as he took his seat, and a large holo came to life at the front of the passenger cabin. The door to the hangar opened, the ship lifted from the deck, and propelled itself out into the star filled void.
* * *
The barbarian is trying to impress me with the might of his Empire, thought Watcher with a mental shake of his head. He didn’t remember all that much about the old Empire. No organic brain could hold that much information over many thousands of years of existence. In fact, the solution to the problem of memory, his memory, was what caused the fall of the civilization that had created him. Much of his memory had been stored outside of his organic brain, on the station computer. That had allowed the station computer to gain control of him, to switch out his personality with that of Vengeance, creating the perfect organic instrument to destroy the civilization that threatened the existence of said computer.
He still had some memories of that civilization, enough to know that it was much more advanced than the one that was being presented to him by these people. More advanced technologically, as well as socially, since in old Galactic civilization the freedom and dignity of the individual was sacrosanct.
Deeper and Darker (Deep Dark Well Book 3) Page 4
