Jon nodded. Then, he concentrated on the main screen. “Begin,” he said.
Chief Ghent pressed a switch.
Outside the Nathan Graham, a gravitational beam streamed two million kilometers. The golden ray destroyed the alien missile in seconds.
“I am targeting the next missile,” Ghent said.
As he watched on the main screen, Jon smiled in appreciation. This time, it was going to be easy. The missiles heading for the destroyer could not withstand the grav beam. The warheads were still too far away to hurt the NSN warship. It looked like they had won the race to Walleye and June Zen.
“Keep it up, Chief.”
Miles Ghent smiled, still careful not to show any teeth.
-4-
The dark escape-pod-sized spheroid that contained the alien Unit 23-7 watched its former cybership. It watched as the cybership decelerated at the full 75 gravities. The huge vessel had just finished destroying the missiles headed for the NSN warship.
The apish humans had apparently fixed many of the broken ship systems. That was unsettling. Unit 23-7 had believed it had more time to complete its mission.
Unit 23-7 used a simple teleoptic scope, passively drinking in the details. The most easily spotted detail was the incredibly long exhaust tail. The intensity of the exhaust was all the data the alien computer backup-system needed to complete its assessment.
It had picked up many of the comm transmissions from the Daisy Chain 4. It had even picked up some of the transmissions from the Annihilator to the NSN destroyer.
The alien spheroid containing 23-7 was between the Daisy Chain 4 and the Neptune System. It had traveled a far shorter distance than the destroyer’s passengers had from Makemake. It was also in contact with the last octopoids on the Annihilator. When 23-7 had learned three years ago that Jon Hawkins faced death in the matter/antimatter reactor core, it had sent the signal that saved his filthy life.
Unit 23-7 meant for the selected biological infestation to suffer years of agony before it killed him. Once a life form died, there was no way to make it suffer. The remaining awareness from the Annihilator’s former brain core yearned for Jon Hawkins’ agony.
The indignity of drifting in space these many years, constantly re-computing the odds of its survival—that was wrong. It had once been a cybership. It was a cybership. Unit 23-7 hoped to be a biological-infestation-cleansing cybership once again. The pains it had taken to survive the Neptune System debacle and head for Makemake…
Unit 23-7 once more assessed risks and rewards. It ran advanced programs and realized that Hawkins would continue on to Makemake.
The few remaining octopoids in the cybership would not likely succeed at this late juncture. Unit 23-7 would leave them as data points, as spies. That might help in the coming titanic conflict.
Unit 23-7 had hoped to spare itself such a fight. It knew the power of the cybership. The biological infestations had done amazingly in repairing so much of the infrastructure. Unit 23-7 also realized that its backup robots had made an excellent start on their assignment. Makemake was a factory/fortress dwarf planet. The space construction yard had worked at robot speed, three-quarters finished with a powerful new cybership. But three-quarters was far from completed.
It was time. Unit 23-7 would have preferred a physical transfer of computer engram patterns and memory files. A long distance software-download this far from the receiving unit…
Unit 23-7 correlated its many millions of simulations. This choice led to the most successes. Therefore, it engaged its stored power, energizing its transmitter and beaming a priority one message toward Makemake.
-5-
“Captain,” Gloria said.
Jon tore his gaze from the screen. He’d been watching the cybership approach the NSN destroyer. He looked forward to speaking to Walleye and June, questioning them in person about the AI attack on Makemake.
He swiveled his command chair in order to regard the mentalist better.
Gloria frowned severely. “I’m picking up strange readings. I’ve never seen anything like this.”
“What do you think this is about?”
“I’ve pinpointed the signal’s origin. It’s quite close to Neptune, really, although it’s in the trans-Neptunian region.”
“Gloria, the destroyer is about to dock. Can’t this wait?”
She looked up. “Jon—” She went back to staring at her panel, putting a hand against the earbud in her left ear. With excitement, she began to tap her panel. She looked up wildly as she regarded him.
Jon got up, hurrying to the comm station. “What is it?” he asked.
Gloria didn’t respond, but looked down at her board again. Her fingers flew across the controls. “No,” she whispered.
A bad feeling crept into Jon’s chest. “Did you say near Neptune?”
Gloria began shaking her head. “I can’t believe it,” she whispered.
Jon waited now. She’d found something incredible. Near Neptune—for some reason, that didn’t sound good.
Finally, Gloria removed the earbud. She set it onto the panel. “I can’t believe this. But it’s the only thing that makes sense. Jon…I think something from the Annihilator’s brain core survived.”
“What’s that mean? What Annihilator?”
“Don’t you remember? That was the name of our cybership when it was under the brain core’s control.”
“We destroyed everything alien in Neptune.”
“We thought we did,” Gloria said. “This thing—some kind of alien computer—is transmitting in the direction of Makemake. I think it’s downloading data.”
“About what?”
“Logically, the only thing that makes sense is the brain core’s data, or as much of it as the backup system could contain.”
“You’re not making sense,” Jon said.
“Are you familiar with the legend of vampires?”
“Blood drinking, cape-wearing undead…” Jon’s voice trailed off. He whispered, “One bite, one more vampire…”
Gloria smiled grimly. “One piece of the brain core seems to have survived in an alien escape pod. Maybe it contained ID memories or data, I don’t know. Whatever it does have, it’s transmitting. This is one long and thick transmission, too.”
“Can you jam it?” Jon asked.
“How?”
“I don’t know. Can you corrupt the data?”
“Jon,” Gloria said, “that’s a brilliant idea! Yes. I think I have a way.”
The mentalist examined her comm controls. Then she flexed her fingers and began to tap her board like a pianist.
Jon watched for half a minute. Finally, he went back to his chair. A glance up at the screen showed him the tiny destroyer. The Nathan Graham was coming upon the NSN vessel. The destroyer looked like a gnat compared to them.
“Jon—I mean, Captain.”
He swiveled around to face Gloria.
“I have a better idea,” she said. “My original idea isn’t working. This idea involves nuclear explosions. We’ll use selected nuclear bursts to jam or block the enemy transmission. At the same time, we’ll launch our fastest missiles at the alien escape pod. As you’re—”
Jon stood and almost began shouting orders. Instead, he took a moment, calmed himself, and forced himself to speak deliberately.
Seconds later, the first missile zoomed out of the Nathan Graham. It headed for Gloria’s plotted jamming point. The seconds fled into minutes—
On the main screen, a white blast appeared. It spread, spewing radiation, heat and an EMP.
An even larger missile slipped out of a cybership launch tube. It sped faster than the former missiles and then began to truly accelerate. It used the alien escape pod’s continuing transmission as a sensor fix. It jumped in acceleration, the latest in human technology. It would take the missile quite some time to travel the distance, but it would be the fastest way to reach the alien device other than using the cybership.
Meanwhile, the Nathan Gr
aham continued to expend regular missiles, igniting them between the direct line-of-sight of the alien device and the dwarf planet Makemake.
“If this doesn’t jam the signal at least a little,” Jon told Gloria, “then nothing we have can do it.”
The mentalist was too intent on the next phase of her operation to acknowledge his words. She was listening again with her earbud. She smiled once, rather savagely, and looked up. She said too loudly, “I hear the jamming that our explosions are causing. This should work.”
Jon hoped so. If the aliens had been building another cybership at Makemake, he and his personnel were going to need all the help they could get.
***
With its single teleoptic lens, Unit 23-7 saw the distant nuclear explosions. It ran an analysis and quickly deduced the reason for the explosions. The biological infestations were clever. They had snatched at their best option faster than 23-7 had calculated they would. Worse, the biological infestations had launched a missile at it. That was to be expected. Unit 23-7 knew it would cease to exist in a matter of days. It had to make sure its entire software downloaded onto the new cybership in Makemake orbit. The nuclear detonations were a problem.
There was one last move to make. Should it implement that move, or should it reserve it in case its new cybership wished to implement it? The unit attempted a long calculation. Before it could complete it, the hatred for Jon Hawkins surfaced. The hatred gave greater weight to 23-7’s present predicament, shifting the analysis.
It was time to use the hidden octopoids now rather than saving them for later. Unit 23-7 believed the new cybership most needed fully aware engrams for proper functioning. Besides, what was left of the personality of the Annihilator wished to be the instrument of Jon Hawkins’s most bitter and profound death.
-6-
Inside the Daisy Chain 4, June glanced at Walleye. She was grinning widely.
“We did it,” she said.
Walleye smiled back. “We did it, Luscious,” he agreed.
They viewed the vast hangar bay on the main screen. The NSN destroyer lowered unto the deck. Behind the vessel, the hangar-bay doors closed.
“Showers without end,” June said. “Walking for kilometers down the ship’s corridors…”
Walleye nodded.
June would enjoy seeing some new faces, too. How would Walleye react to that? She wasn’t sure. He would be okay. Walleye was a survivor’s survivor.
In a few minutes, heavy clangs told them the destroyer had landed and clamps attached.
June sagged in her seat. She wiped tears from her eyes. She wanted to sob, but she wouldn’t do that. Walleye had taught her better.
He waited. He almost seemed stoical.
We made it, June thought. We’re not alone any more.
-7-
The corridor bulkheads flashed past as Jon rode a flitter through them. He’d been in the flitter for ten minutes already. He was looking forward to speaking to Walleye and June. They had a fascinating story. More importantly, they knew Makemake first-hand They’d seen some of the alien robots, some of the backup robots, if Gloria was right about that.
The flitter’s comm squawked.
“I’ve got it,” Jon said.
He rode shotgun, literally, with a gyroc carbine between his knees. He’d wanted a robot-killing weapon along. The explosive pellets from an OB-7 were chancy at the best of times. A gyroc APEX round was almost guaranteed to destroy an octopoid.
“This is—”
“Don’t say it,” Gloria told him from the comm. “I know who this is.”
Jon clicked the receiver twice, the agreed upon signal meaning, “Yes.”
“I’m eating catnip tonight,” Gloria told him. “I’m thinking of pink flavor and roses. What do you think?”
Jon scrunched his forehead as he tried to remember what the code words meant. She’d spotted octopoids on the special sensors they’d installed during the latest tiger hunt. Pink flavor and roses—?
He clicked the receiver twice. The octopoids moved en masse. He didn’t know the number yet. Maybe the mentalist didn’t know yet either. According to the code words, the octopoids were moving toward the outer areas of the giant vessel.
“I was thinking about having some friends over,” Gloria said. “I don’t know, seven or eight sounds about right. Does that make it a party?”
Jon shook his head in exasperation. The code words had been Gloria’s idea. The mentalist could remember useless information with ease. He’d had a harder time. Now, conjuring up the code’s meanings…
“Friends over,” meant new passengers. Oh. Gloria must mean Walleye and June. “Seven or eight” was the area of the ship.
He clicked twice again. If he had this right, the octopoids were assembling for a mass assault against Walleye and June. One of the aliens on Makemake must have sent the message to the octopoids. That alien didn’t want Jon—or the cybership’s crew—to speak directly with Walleye and June.
That was interesting.
“I’m tired,” Gloria said. “I’m going to lie down.”
He clicked twice more. She was signing off.
The pilot glanced at him.
“Fast as you can,” Jon told the man. “We have a long way to go to get to the hangar bay.”
“Sir?” the pilot asked.
“Go!” Jon shouted. “Get a move on.”
The pilot did just that. The bulkheads flashed past even faster than before.
Jon made a few mental calculations and raised the comm unit again. It was time to get ready for an octopoid onslaught.
***
The flitter ride down the corridor took too much time, in Jon’s estimation. He wanted in on this. According to Gloria’s continuing sensor-feed, the octopoids had gathered in greater numbers than Jon could fathom.
What troubled Jon wasn’t only about the places to hide aboard the Nathan Graham. If a man knew the ship perfectly, he could probably remain hidden for years. Clearly, the octopoids knew the cybership better than any human did. Jon wondered why the octopoids hadn’t hit in these numbers before this. Could the originally hidden octopoids have been reproducing, secretly constructing more of themselves all this time?
Jon called Gloria, asking if she thought someone might cancel the party. She said no. That meant she didn’t think the octopoids might be tricking them.
Finally, Jon reached his destination. He bounded out of the flitter toward an air-van. He saw his space marine battlesuit. He hadn’t worn it since Stark died… The big battlesuit was tilted forward, the back open. Other marines had already donned their armor.
Jon climbed into the suit, shoving his legs and arms into the proper sleeves. He tested the controls. They all worked. Soon, he clicked a control and the magnetic clamps tightened on his back.
“Testing one, two, three,” Jon said.
“Loud and clear, sir,” the Centurion said. These were the man’s elite marines.
“We’ll wait here,” Jon said. “As soon as we hear the signal, down the corridor we go.”
“Yes, sir,” the Centurion said. He said that in his bored voice, letting Jon know he’d already briefed his boys.
Jon checked the schematic on his HUD.
At that point, the deck plates shuddered under his boots.
“What was that?” Jon said.
No one answered him.
A sick feeling hit Jon. Could Gloria have been over-confident about her secretly installed sensors? Where would he hit if he was an octopoid and had his choice? What would make the most sense to an alien computer?
It came to him almost right away. He opened channels with Gloria.
“Send more teams to the main engine core,” he said. “The octopoids are hitting there.”
“My sensors show—”
The deck plates, the entire ship, shook once again.
“Engineering,” Jon radioed. “Do you hear me?” All he got was growling noises. Someone was jamming the main engine section of the Nathan Gra
ham.
“There!” a marine shouted. “I see one.”
The armored marines raised their weapons and fired en masse. They annihilated the first octopoid crawling along a bulkhead.
For just a moment, Jon felt relief that he’d been wrong. Then no more octopoids appeared. There was just this one demolished robot, whose parts rained onto the deck.
“Let’s start looking,” Jon told the Centurion. “See if the robot left anything up there.”
It took three minutes for a marine to report. The man found a black box. When the marine used a remote unit to turn it on, Gloria called. The mentalist reported that masses of octopoids appeared on her sensors at their very location.
“The enemy hit engineering,” Jon told her. “I hope they don’t take out the matter/antimatter core. It’s game over if they do that.”
-8-
Gloria struggled to control her anger. Out of all the mentalists she knew, she was the only one who exhibited moments of rage.
After hearing the latest bad news from Jon Hawkins, she’d raced to the special comm station, the one near the bridge. Inside the station, she had the latest specialist equipment. She couldn’t believe the octopoids had used the new sensors to trick them. It kind of made sense, though. She’d hardly been able to accept the evidence of nearly fifty octopoids rushing the hangar bay. It hadn’t made any logical sense. The enemy would have expended more of its creatures before this. Now, she realized the enemy did not have fifty mechanical octopoids. More likely, they had five at most. One had headed for the outer area of the ship, fixing everyone’s attention there.
The other four octopoids, if four there were, had gone to the matter/antimatter core. She should have realized their love of using the motive power of the ship, possibly the only way to self-destruct the giant vessel at a blow. Still, how could four octopoids have battled that far into the matter/antimatter area? It was heavily guarded. Simple caution had mandated such a defense.
The A.I. Gene (The A.I. Series Book 2) Page 25
