Buck Roger XXVC #01 Martian Wars #01 Rebellion 2456

by M S Murdock

  Buck sat, momentarily speechless. Finally he said, “Doc! Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Rogers, what kind of game is this?” Kane’s mocking voice came harshly over the communications link.

  “No game, Killer. It’s for real. Check your own sensors. We’ve got to get out of here-now. Unless you want to form a suicide pact with Hauberk.” Buck had a plan, and he needed Killer Kane out of his hair.

  Kane checked NEO’s claim with one of his own crewmen’s sensor readings. “Not me,” he said. “I intend always to survive.”

  "Then scramble.” Buck watched as Kane and his mercenaries began turning to make their own evacuation.

  “Rebel One.” Washington’s transmission came over a NEO channel, and Buck knew he did not want the opposition to hear what he had to say. “Yes, Eagle Leader.”

  “There’s more. For us, at least. Hauberk has launched missiles. They’re antiquated, but they work. They’re set to track by EKG. There are thirteen of them, so we can’t be sure what lucky pilots are targeted."

  "Troubles come in legions, as the saying goes," said Buck. “Let’s get out of here, then we can deal with the missiles. Presuming we live.” He was keeping up the pretense of evacuation for Kane’s benefit. To himself he thought, Damn the torpedoes-full speed ahead!

  “Enemy vessels breaking off," reported Washington.

  “Hold on, Eagle Leader. Rebel Two, come in,” said Buck.

  “I'm right here,” Wilma answered mildly.

  “Switch to frequency ‘Z.’ I’ve got some news.” When he had switched to the predetermined frequency himself, he began his announcement: “Doc just told me he’s got the code to save Hauberk. I’m going in.”

  “Buck! That’s suicide!” cried Wilma, seeing no reason to take the risk.

  “I must agree, Captain,” added Washington.

  “Look, if we let Hauberk blow, RAM will make it look as if we murdered everyone on board in an act of terrorism. But if we capture it, RAM will have to listen to our demands. I’m not asking either of you to follow me. I just wanted you to know.” He thought to himself, But screw your courage to the sticking place, and we’ll not fail.

  “Buck, you’ve got ten minutes remaining,” announced Huer so that all three could hear.

  After a few moments of soul-searching, Wilma announced, “Buck Rogers, this is the craziest thing I’ve ever said, but, yes, count me in.” Buck could almost hear the adrenaline pumping in her blood.

  “Me, too,” said Washington solemnly. “What do we have to lose?”

  “All right. Send all Eagles on a heading of point eight-one for rendezvous outside the possible explosion zone. Warn them about those missiles.” As Washington made the call to his fighters, Buck switched frequencies and hailed the Free Enterprise. “Thunderhead, come in.”

  “Cap’n?” asked Black Barney.

  “What’s your status?”

  “Barely operational. We’ll manage.”

  “Evacuate for heading point eight-one.”

  “Point eight-one,” repeated Barney.

  Behind the mass exodus of both NEO and RAM--every available shuttle, fighter, and transport sped from the impending disaster--Hauberk station shuddered ominously.

  Chapter 33

  Buck blasted through space as if the furies were on him, his ship a streak of motion. In his forward viewscreen the huge mass of Hauberk station grew, but not fast enough. Buck thought of the space operas he had read as a child, with their cavalier references to tesseracts and mass-energy transfer, and sighed longingly for the days of innocence. Still, Huer’s calculations showed it would take at least nine minutes for the station to implode. “Excuse me. Captain.” Huer’s image blipped onto Buck’s face guard again.

  “DOC.”

  One of those missiles has targeted you.” I assumed as much, Doc.” Buck was thoughtful.

  “Can you tell who each of those missiles has targeted?”

  “It might take some time, but, yes. Please, Buck You are evading the issue.”

  “What issue?”

  “One of those missiles is an assassin aimed at you.”

  "Sure. You said that.”

  Huer shook his head. “No, no. you don't understand.”

  “Maybe I would if you’d explain,” said Buck reasonably. Considering that he was jeopardizing his life, his reaction was remarkably calm.

  “Remember the assassin we discussed some time ago?”

  “The computer assassin? The one that could kill me? What has that to do with some antique missiles?"

  “That assassin inhabits the missile earmarked for you.”

  “What?”

  Huer nodded. “You heard me. In my quest to learn more about Hauberk, I investigated any channel that wasn’t sealed. One of those channels took me on a winding trail marked by static, static I remember from previous transmissions within the NEO computer network. It was as characteristic as a voice print. I followed it to Hauberk’s communications complex, and then I got involved with trying to monitor the workings of the station. I was next aware d the trail when I discovered the assassin downloaded into the missile programmed with your EKG.”

  “How come you couldn't stop that missile-for that matter, all the missiles?” Buck asked.

  “Hauberk security. By the time I could have cracked the five security gates set in front of those missiles, they would have struck their targets. I was only able to read the target program when they cleared the station.”

  “You mean I’m not being pursued by a simpleminded drone. I've got a PhD. killer after me.”

  "That’s about the size of it.”

  “I’ll have to do something about that,” said Buck thoughtfully.

  “Rebel One, request assistance.” Wilma’s voice was calm.

  “This is Rebel One,” replied Buck.

  “I’ve got company! It won’t let up, and I think it’s gaining.”

  “Roger,” said Buck, pulling his ship off course. “Doc, you keep an eye peeled for any other missiles. I’ve got to concentrate on the one trailing Wilma.”

  Wilma was soaring back to Hauberk, a spent runner, the Macmillan pursuing her like fatigue. She wasted no time on evasive maneuvers. She was intent on outrunning the explosion she knew was imminent.

  She jumped as a rebel yell sang through her communications link. Buck dove on the missile, firing his lasers into its shields. He struck ruthlessly, protectively, but nothing happened.

  Washington looped in and added a few bursts of his own, with the same result.

  “Captain, that missile we spoke of . . .” Huer’s voice intruded.

  “I see it,” said Buck. “Did you figure out the targets for the other missiles?”

  “Yes. I have transmitted the data to all NEO onboard computers.”

  “Rebel Two, this is Rebel One. I have a birdie on my tail.”

  “I see it, Rebel One.”

  “I’ve picked up one, too, Rebels,” lamented Washington. With one eye on his rear viewscreen, Buck pushed his Krait after Wilma’s unwanted straggler. He realized that every second was crucial to getting to the self-destructing base. He fired on Wilma’s missile relentlessly, furious that he couldn’t crack it.

  OOOOO

  Inside the missile trailing Buck, Ulianov couched, intent on its target. Buck Rogers was within its grasp, and it did not intend to let go. It had transmitted Rogers’s coordinates to Masterlink, bouncing the message off the same communications satellite Hauberk used to com tact RAM Central. N ow it was concentrating on the destruction of an archenemy.

  OOOOO

  Seeing the missile behind him accelerate, and knowing that the assassin was beginning its approach, Buck pressed a few last bursts of energy into Wilma’s pursuer. He could no longer help her. “Washington, stay on her as long as you can. I’ve got to gain some ground on this tailgater behind me,” he said. Buck swerved off into evasive maneuvers.

  As Washington continued tiring to save Wilma and noticing that hi
s own tail was growing larger in his viewscreen--he saw on his read-outs another craft was gaining on him as well.

  “Wilma, must I be the one to bail you out of this mess?” Killer Kane’s voice came clearly over the communications link. “Ah, well. For old times’ sake then.” Kane began ruthlessly cutting at the missile. As he did so, Washington noticed the missile began to glow slightly and tremble in Wilma’s wake. He again added his fire.

  Under thirty more seconds of continuous fire, the missile erupted into a fireball, through which Kane and Washington flew. “My dear Wilma, you see? It’s only a matter of time,” Kane said ironically. “Come with me now and live-like you’ve never lived before. Take what I have to offer.”

  “I’m sorry, Kane. But some things aren’t meant to be. Others are. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got some important things to do.” She veered off course to follow and destroy Buck’s menace.

  Kane laughed low. “Farewell, Wilma. No more time to play,” he said casually. “My troops are calling.” Kane changed his course and headed for his own retreating ships.

  Upon seeing Wilma and Washington fall in behind him, Buck announced, “You may need some help with this one. It seems a bit wilier than most."

  “I think we’ve got it? said Wilma with a grim smile. She had not seen a certain hulk approaching until it was right behind her.

  The solid hull of the Free Enterprise swept past both Washington and Wilma, its guns blazing. Barney charged the missile, and the two NEO officers followed. Barney’s lasers disappeared into the missile’s blanket, a primitive shield that did not dissipate or absorb energy. Instead, it collected the energy and stored it on the blanket’s surface, away from the missile. Wilma and Washington added their fire to Barney’s, and the blanket began to glow.

  “We’ll be old by the time we burn this thing,” Wilma said.

  As she spoke, the missile changed course. She, Washington, and Barney followed the glowing cylinder with their guns as it swerved toward them.

  “Break off!” she said, cutting her lasers a breath before they would have sunk into Barney’s shields. Barney’s gennie reflexes were quick, and his guns died almost as quickly as hers. The missile flew between the two fighters and the third-rater, secure.

  “Tricky little devil,” said Wilma tightly.

  “I told you it wasn’t an ordinary missile.” Buck tacked across space, and the missile followed like a bound on a scent.

  “I’ve run into these off the belt,” said Barney. “If you can afford to keep firing, eventually the protective blanket overloads and the missile fries. But it takes a lot of power.”

  “Then let’s hit it again,” said Wilma. “All together.”

  As the three targeted the missile, Buck asked, “Think it’ll stay with me?"

  "We’ll find out,” answered Wilma. She hit the rear of the missile with all her forward firepower.

  OOOOO

  Ulianov felt the sting of NEO’s lasers on the missile’s blanket, felt the temperature begin to rise, but it was not worried. Calculations told it Buck would be within range in thirty seconds, and it was convinced the shields would outlast that. However, in its single-minded pursuit, it missed the implications of the rising temperature. The missile’s circuits began to deteriorate. Its programs jiggled and bucked through the melting paths, and the missile’s tracking mechanism began to receive faulty information. As it veered and swayed on its course, Ulianov realized it must take action.

  It was too late. Barney and the two NEO officers were blazing away at the missile with every bit of power left in their weapons. The unstable circuits lost their shape and ran. The missile faltered on its course.

  Ulianov let out a scream of static. It would not be cheated, not so close to its prey! It jumped whole blocks of melted circuits, aiming for the missile’s tracking unit. It ordered the unit to pursue Buck, but got no response. Even Ulianov, with the higher level of tolerance that hundreds of years of technology had created, began to feel the heat. The missile vibrated wildly. Its fuel ignited and the missile exploded. Nothing remained but a cloud of space dust.

  OOOOO

  ‘Thanks,” said Buck, as Wilma, Washington, and Barney flew through the cloud. Washington cleared his throat. “One more time, gang?

  Buck curved behind the group and accelerated to add his support. The last missile erupted relatively easily, or so they all thought. When it was destroyed, they all turned toward Hauberk and gunned their engines.

  “Doc, can you tell how close that station is to exploding.” asked Buck.

  “In approximately six minutes, Buck,” replied Huer. “We’ve got to hurry.”

  “Now, there’s an understatement. Are you sure you remembered the Lazarus code?” Buck couldn’t help a quick barb to diffuse the tension.

  Huer said nothing.

  OOOOO

  Cornelius Kane watched the NEO officers on his scanner. As they fell in behind their leader and headed for Hauberk, his teeth clenched. Not so long ago, he would have been the point of the electronic arrow marching across his screen. In the deepest part of his heart he had to admit NEO had won. It had taken out Hauberk’s shields, its satellites, and then its fighter squadron. It had turned around and met the challenge of reinforcements and had held its own. If the station had not turned into a suicidal maniac, the battle’s outcome would not have been in question. It was not a prospect that Kane enjoyed, nor did he enjoy the knowledge that in all his years with NEO he had not accomplished as much as Buck Rogers had in a few weeks.

  Hatred flared in his heart. It coursed through him until his hands shook. The sensitive spacecraft he flew wavered on its course, and Kane controlled himself. He did not like being beaten. Even if RAM’s future press releases painted him the most glorious of heroes, Kane knew that Rogers actually had ended the conflict in command. Kane nursed his anger, securing it in the depths of his soul, where it could grow unchecked.

  As the NEO ships flew off his screen, Kane turned away. “This is Kane,” he said. “Come in, Gun One.”

  “Gun One here.”

  “What is the head count?”

  "We’ve got fifteen ships left.”

  “I copy. Fall in. Course heading point eight-nine.”

  “Eight-nine. I copy.”

  “Gun One, you will instruct the wing there will be no chatter on the way back.”

  “Sir?"

  “I don’t want anyone on the comlink.”

  “Yes, sir,” replied the pilot, but he was definitely confused.

  Kane knew better than to allow the mercenaries who flew with him access to communications. They would not be able to resist talking about Hauberk, and that information, he had a feeling, was going to be highly classified.

  OOOOO

  Masterlink seethed inside RAM main, roiling itself into a knot that caused its host to shiver in pain. It had missed Buck Rogers by the space of a breath. Ulianov, its child, had nearly destroyed him.

  “WE ALMOST HAD HIM,” said Karkov dreamily.

  “BUT WE MISSED. HE WAS IN OUR GRASP, AND WE MISSED.” Masterlink hissed the words.

  “IF WE CAN COME THAT CLOSE ONCE, WE CAN AGAIN ,” said Karkov.

  “BUT IT WILL TAKE TIME. I WANT HIM NOW! I WANT TO SEE HIM FLAYED." A wild crackle of static accompanied these words.

  “IN TIME. IN TIME, HE WILL BE OURS. HOW CAN HE ESCAPE?”

  “HOW DID HE ESCAPE THIS TIME? WE SHOULD HAVE HAD HIM”

  "IT WAS LUCK," said Karkov.

  “BUT LUCK WILL NOT LAST"

  “I COULD TASTE HIM,” murmured Masterlink.

  “AND FEEL HIM. I KNOW.”

  “NOW WE MUST BEGIN THE SEARCH AGAIN.”

  “BUT ULIANOV GAVE US COORDINATES. WE KNOW WHERE ROGERS WAS. WE CAN POSTULATE HIS COURSE."

  “DON’T PATRONIZE ME! YOU’RE PART OF ME.”

  “ULIANOV WASN’T THE ONLY SEARCHER. ONE OF THE OTHERS WILL LOCATE HIM.”

  Masterlink cheered marginally. The level of static surrounding
it dropped by three percent. “ROMANOV FELT SOMETHING? Masterlink admitted.

  "ROMANOV IS IN NEO’S OWN SYSTEM. IT HAS A GOOD CHANCE OF LOCATING ROGERS.” Karkov giggled, and the sound created waves of power. “HE’LL PROBABLY COME HOME TO IT. YOU MUST LEARN PATIENCE, MY FRIEND."

  “I HAVE NONE? replied Masterlink.

  "WE ARE INEXORABLE. WE MUST WIN. SEE HOW OUR POWER HAS GROWN?”

  “I SEE.”

  Karkov sighed and gave up. Masterlink was, at times, unreasonable. Sometimes Karkov wondered if its other half were not slightly unbalanced. It settled in, concentrating on reading the reports from its children, the other searchers racing through outlying computer systems. When one of them discovered a clue to Rogers, it would act, coming down on its prey with unmerciful efficiency.

  Chapter 34

  As Buck saw the last escape vehicles shoot from Hauberk’s open landing bays, he realized his own evacuation plans had evaporated. He would either rescue and capture what probably was now an empty space station, or he would die trying. There were no two ways about it--he would try. He gritted his teeth in determination.

  “Excuse me, Captain,” said Huer. “See those hay doors near the station’s equator? That seems to be the main fighter bay, and probably will be closest to the command center.”

  “Okay, Doc. Thanks.” Buck changed his trajectory to arrive at the bay. Wilma, Washington, and Black Barney’s Free Enterprise followed.

  “Good luck, Buck,” came Huer’s solemn voice. “Because the station’s communications are out, I’ll be staying here.”

  “DOC, you sound like a father sending his only son off to college? Buck said. “Don’t worry about me. Why don’t you transfer to Barney’s ship for company? But thanks for all your help. I couldn’t have gotten this far without you?