To Well And Back (The Deep Dark Well)

by Doug Dandridge

  Chapter Twenty

  I’ve never wanted to be a hero. Hell, I had too much regard for my skin to put it in constant danger. There were just things to be done, and I was in the place to do them. As my Uncle Thomas used to say, you just need to do the next right thing. And sometimes taking down scum was the next right thing. Pandora Latham.

  Pandora looked down from her perch on the hull of the Orca and watched the bright pinpoints of kinetic strikes blossom on the surface of the planet. Shit, she thought as she recognized the area near the landing field, about thirty kilometers east, that’s where my friends are. She thought for a moment about advancing her timetable, despite the fact that it might compromise her chances of accomplishing what she wanted. But the kinetic rounds were coming from other ships, and what she planned might not cause those ships to stop firing. I’ll avenge you, she thought, looking away from the planet and watching her HUD timer.

  Hope you fuckers get nice and comfortable, she thought, watching the seconds tick down. Night watch was coming up in two hours and fifteen minutes. She knew the ships were in a combat zone, but also knew that the crews could not be kept at a high state of alert forever. So with the trouble on the ground taken care of, with her taken care of, and no enemy ships within range, they would probably go into rest and relaxation mode, with minimal shifts.

  [Wake me when its fifteen minutes from the time] she thought to her on-board computer, receiving immediate acknowledgement. Pandi closed her eyes, sure that her suit was secured to the hull and stealthed to the max. Within moments she was sound asleep, confident that her security systems would wake her if needed.

  * * *

  Watcher flew low over the trees at his maximum acceleration, breaking the sound barrier within seconds, then seconds more to pass twice the speed of sound. The three kinetic weapons struck just behind him, and he watched on his HUD from the orbital take with a sigh of relief that they had not targeted the caverns in which the Suryans were hiding. Not that he thought they were in any danger, but things had been known to happen. Outrunning the wind from the weapons, he banked into a turn and dropped behind a ridgeline, then slowed, coming to a soft landing near the cave opening.

  Watcher had used his microbots to scout this cavern complex earlier, and had found that the caves ran throughout this range. These were hard granite mountains, the remains of tectonic activity from ages past, before the planet was terraformed. Unlike the limestone caverns under most of the nearby mountains, these were the result of volcanism, lava tubes that had hardened and formed a very strong shelter. Not impervious to kinetic or nuclear strikes, but something that would require pinpoint hits with very heavy weapons. And fortunately the enemy still seemed to be cautious about using heavy strikes.

  Watcher sent orders out to the new wave of microbots, the ones that had flown here from the pyramid wormhole before it had been taken by the enemy. While not as combat capable as his dedicated battlebots, they still had capabilities he could use in his future plans. And he could, to his way of thinking, never have too many of the little guys. With that last thought he headed into the dark opening.

  The tunnel narrowed a bit, then widened out into an ancient empty magma chamber. On the approach to the chamber Watcher was challenged, and knew that he had arrived where he wanted to be.

  “Pass, sir,” said the Suryan marine on recognizing the singular combat suit. “Sounds like it’s getting rough up there.” The ground rumbled underneath again, then carried on into a series of additional shocks.

  “So happy to see you, Watcher,” said the small Admiral, walking up. The guard turned around and quit trying to socialize, his attention back on the tunnel while under the watch of his commanding officer.

  “I’m happy to see that you made it down here,” said the superman, walking his three meter tall suit beside the small form of the Suryan.

  “It was a near thing,” said the Admiral. “We got out of the tanks and into the tunnel just as the first round came down on the other side of the mountain. If it had come down on our side I don’t know if we would have made it. Sorry, but we weren’t able to bring the tanks in.”

  “They will be OK,” said Watcher, moving his suit against the wall and willing it to open along the seams, which now appeared like magic on the solid armor. He stepped down and out of the armor, reaching his arms overhead and stretching, then scratching some places which he could not reach while in the suit. I know the nanites are supposed to take care of that, he thought with a smile on his face. But it’s just not the same.

  Watcher felt a slight regret at the loss of processing power he always experienced when he delinked from the suit’s physical connection. He was still connected by broadband, which did not take up all the slack. And he still had his own organic processor linked to implants, the most efficient organic system known.

  “So what can we do?” asked the Admiral, following Watcher over to where a meal was being prepared by the Suryans.

  Watcher felt his stomach growl as he inhaled the odor of the food. It was not the best he had seen, but field rations were field rations. And hunger was hunger, and he was hungry enough to eat anything put in front of him.

  “We plan an attack,” he told the Admiral, picking up a mess tin and moving into the line.

  “But what good will it do us to attack them when they control the orbitals?” asked the Admiral, narrowing his brow.

  “It will help me to get my lover back,” said Watcher, his eyes narrowing as he looked at the Admiral. “And it will help you to repay your debt to me.”

  “I will not put my people into a no win battle just so you can rescue one person,” said the Admiral, shaking his head. “I realize that she is very important to you. Hells, she helped us get it out of a crack as well. But I have a responsibility to my people.”

  “And if I can guarantee that this fight, if successful, will lead to your people being safe and secure?”

  “I would have to see the plan, and know the objectives, all of them,” answered the Admiral, while Watcher held out his mess tin to get it filled with rations.

  “Fair enough,” replied the superman, walking over and taking a seat on a convenient rock. He pulled an object out of his jumpsuit and set it on another rock between himself and the Fleet Admiral, who took a seat on a folding stool that a subordinate placed for the commanding officer of the Suryans.

  Watcher took a bite of food, grimacing for a moment at the spicy taste which was too strong for his sensitive taste buds, then swallowing. The small holo sphere projected a terrain layout of the landing field while he took another bite.

  “Here is the landing field,” he said, pointing to the collection of buildings and the flat area on which sat some shuttles and fighter aircraft.

  “And how recent is this picture?” asked the Admiral, staring as one of the aircraft hovered in the air, and then started climbing into the sky.

  “It’s real time,” said Watcher, pointing a finger at the fighter as it climbed up and out of the holo. “My microsats are scanning the area, along with the micro recon bots, and are giving me this take of the field.”

  “And you want to take the landing field?” asked Nagara, staring at the base, which also sported some defensive positions that were not there when his side controlled the base.

  “No,” said Watcher, shaking his head, then taking a swig of water from an offered canteen. “The attack on the base will be a diversion. I’ll assign the tanks and my remaining robots to that axis. Your people will help me to take this geographic location.”

  “The hill?” asked the Admiral, surprise in his voice. “Of what use is that elevation, when there are mountains around that give you a much better vantage?”

  “Vantage is not what I’m looking for,” said Watcher, smiling at the man as the holo changed to reveal what was concealed.

  “Oh my,” said the Admiral, fingertips to his face. “Oh my.”

  Oh my indeed, thought Watcher with a growing smile, nodding his head.


  * * *

  “This damned thing is about to drive me crazy,” yelled out Commander Hanson, throwing his hands in the air as he glared at the control panel.

  “You’re the expert on AI,” said Colonel Wilhelm Johanson, shaking his head and grinning at the man’s discomfiture. “Is it too much for you?”

  “Look,” said the Commander, biting off some words it looked like he wanted to say and thought better of. “This is a real artificial intelligence. As in it really thinks, in the same way that a human brain thinks, but much faster. There is no damn way I can out think it. It finds a way to turn every one of my questions around into an answer which either makes no sense, or just confounds me in some way.”

  “And you have to go through the thing to gain control of the station?” asked the Colonel.

  “There’s no other way, unless we could take apart the bitch and disconnect all of the Quantum Computer’s redundancy systems,” said the Commander with disgust written on his face. “And that would take more resources than we have, even if we knew where all the assets were.”

  “Well, keep working, Commander,” said the Colonel, patting the man on the back. “You’re our only hope of finding the system we need to transmit the code to.”

  “The system,” said the Commander, nodding his head. “The system. Transmit.”

  “You have an idea?”

  “The germ of one,” said the Commander, his eyes wide and a smile starting to stretch his face. “It might just work. But I need some equipment sent here from the fleet.

  “Tell me what you need and I’ll get it for you,” said the Colonel, nodding. “As fast as humanly possible.”

  * * *

  The Quantum Computer that was the Donut listened in on the conversation between the men, using an infinitesimal portion of its distributed system to look at voice patterns and tones, as well as words, and come up with a solution. It didn’t like the conclusion it had come to. They’re on to something, thought the quantum mind. Now the question is, what can I do about it?

  There really didn’t seem to be much, besides shutting down the wormhole that led to the pyramid on the planet the intruders had come from, the same that Watcher had gone through in search of Pandora Latham. And shutting down an active wormhole without sentient permission was not something it was capable of doing.

  There must be a way around this, thought the computer, allocating more processing power to the problem and running millions of scenarios. It looked through the memory of the system, which contained all the known information from the Galactic Empire, including movies, novels, music, and art. It sifted through this information at a rate that would have left the fastest photonic computer struggling for weeks to keep up with what it could crunch in seconds. And it finally found what it was looking for. Something that might fool the enemy long enough for Watcher to get back to the station.

  The quantum computer sent a message through the entangled part of its system to Watcher. The message was not long, nor was it rich in substance, as the entanglement system was very small and weak. The computer had tried to convince the superman to install a more robust system, but Watcher had insisted on the low bandwidth system behind numerous firewalls. And knowing Watcher’s history with the last computer system, the photonic tyrant that had collapsed civilization, the quantum brain could not blame him. I would never betray him like that, thought the computer, then amended that thought with an on purpose.

  * * *

  Watcher received the signal instantaneously through the quantum entanglement system, cursing under his breath as he did. He liked the idea the computer had come up with, and really could think of nothing else that might work half as well. If only we can keep them from thinking too deeply about the problem. And that was something he could not do. They would think what they would think.

  “Is something wrong?” asked the Admiral, walking beside him through the jungle.

  “Just thought of something,” said Watcher, not wanting to give knowledge of that tech away just yet. “Nothing to do with our operation. But something that concerns me nonetheless.”

  “Something that can wait?” asked the Admiral, his eyes roaming the jungle that was again alive with noise, even as the ash from the strikes of an hour ago settled through the foliage.

  “It will have to,” agreed Watcher, linking into his surveillance net and watching the take from his sats and bots. “It will have to.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Success is the child of audacity. Benjamin Disraeli

  Time to get to work, thought Pandora as she came awake, fully alert. She had always been a hard sleeper, groggy and confused when she awoke. She much preferred her new nervous system, which allowed her to go into a deep sleep, waking to total awareness whenever her senses registered something that shouldn’t be there, or to her internal alarm.

  The woman checked her surroundings on her HUD and was satisfied that no one knew she was there. As far as they’re concerned I’m playing a harp among the clouds with the angels, she thought, then laughed. Or more likely in the worst of their Hells, which would be preferable to spending time with that asshole of a God they worship.

  Pandora moved her suit away from the ship, gaining some distance. A hyper-velocity missile still needed space to accelerate up to the velocity she wanted. Firing from ten meters or even a hundred would not have accomplished her task. Firing from ten kilometers would, as long as she was on target. And with the targeting systems in her suit she was sure she would be.

  The woman from the past pulled the first trigger of the launcher while she painted the target with a laser from her suit. Her HUD zoomed in on the laser spot while a beep sounded in her helmet, indicating target lock. Pandi pulled the second trigger and the missile popped into space, then accelerated forward on its grabber units at a thousand gravities.

  The missile hit the hatch traveling over ten thousand meters a second. The hull metal of the door was tough, but the head of the missile was even tougher. The missile tore a hole in the hatch, and the heat from penetration tore more of the hatch away, blasting a meter wide gap in the outer airlock.

  Pandora dropped the first launcher, allowing it to drift away in space, then pulled the second and last one to her shoulder. She quickly sighted in, then launched the second missile, which went through the opening to strike the inner airlock hatch. In an instant vapor was jetting from the hole, and Pandora knew that she had created the diversion she wanted.

  Wasting no time she accelerated back toward the ship and around the hull, then moved up to the bow from where she fired. She deceled to a stop in front of another airlock hatch and reached out to link with the ship’s comp system, sending a new set of override codes and unlocking the outer hatch. Next she sent an override of the sensor system that would tell anyone when the hatch opened. She counted down a minute, hoping it was enough to get everyone out of this area and to where she wanted them. When the counter hit zero she sent the open code to the lock. The outer hatch slid open and she cruised in, closing it behind her and opening the inner hatch.

  Before her was a ready room much like many others she had seen in her career. Lockers and spacesuits in cubbies sat against two of the walls, while doors to other chambers were set in the bulkheads. The room was empty, as she intended it to be, though that could change at any moment if the enemy needed men on the hull to help repair the breech. She had thought they would use the hatches on the other side of the hull though, and so far she had proven correct.

  Klaxons sounded in the background, and she smiled to think of all those poor fanatics roused from a deep sleep to deal with an emergency situation. Unlike her, they would not have brain augmentation that turned on their minds like a light switch, and many would be disoriented for tens of minutes or more.

  The door at the far end of the ready room opened and a man walked in, looking confused for the moment as he saw her standing there in her battle armor. That confusion would be the last thing he ever felt. Pandi reacted without
thought, raising her arm to point at him. She burned through the front of his skull with the suit laser, vaporizing his brain. The overpressure blew his skull apart, and his body fell to the floor before he could give warning.

  They’ll still notice that his life signs fell off the ship net, she thought, stepping over the body, wondering how she had ever gotten this cold blooded, where she could kill a human being and not even think of the life she had taken. She was not a psychopath, of that she was sure. She could cry over the death of a child or animal on a backward world like Sapphire V. Or she could take the life of someone she saw as an enemy who was in her way without batting an eye. Hard times, she thought, looking up and down the empty corridor. I’ll just have to deal with the nightmares later. If there is a later. She pushed those thoughts aside and started up the corridor. It was time for action, not thought, and she could sit and shiver and regret all she wanted when she got back home.

  The corridor was clear the rest of the way. Pandora kept linking to the system through a variety of codes and protocols so it wouldn’t key on any one operator spoofing the security, and kept taking cameras and sensors off line until she passed. She came to an access tube and hacked the door system, then rose through the duct until she had moved two decks up. She sent a few pizzos into the corridor through a vent and looked up and down the passageway, concentrating mostly on her target, thirty meters up the hallway. That might be a problem, she thought, scanning the two battle armored Marine guards standing in front of the door she needed to get through.