Matt reminded himself he had already won the most vital argument with BattleMind when, after leaving Sigma Puppis B system and the black hole remains of the Anarchate battleglobe, he had convinced the alien AI to release him, Eliana and Mata Hari on the grounds that conquering an organic-filled galaxy required the help of organics like him and Eliana. Now he had to expand on that argument. He smiled.
“There is not room for all 152 human lifeforms to leave this system on any of the 23 starships now in orbit. According to the AI Gatekeeper.” The dragon’s red eyes blinked slowly. “And since it will be known that a human, myself, destroyed this facility and the Intelligence dome earlier, I fear the Anarchate may torture my fellow humans to gain information they do not have. Anyway, as at SAO 47250, we will leave a locator beacon with imagery of what we have done to the Omega casino as a further act of war.”
BattleMind flexed the three gripping claws at the leading edge of each wing, then collapsed the wings against his purple-armored back. The alien crossed its small forearms across its yellow-scaled chest. “Death is the natural result of being organic. Let those who cannot fit die here. Or put them on one of the outsystem asteroids with a habitat dome. They will be found by any incoming vessel.”
Matt bit his lip, even as Suit hugged him close and reassured him that his body functions were in cyborg optimum. “Those are options. But you, BattleMind could learn valuable information about organics in general and humans in particular if we housed them, temporarily, in the empty staterooms of the Spine Hallway.”
“What!” roared the T’Chak dragon. “I destroyed one battleglobe for trying to insert inspection golems into me. You and the Eliana hybrid are the only organics allowed on this ship! Why allow anyone else?”
“Intelligence,” Matt said firmly. “Your memory is 207,000 years old. Much has changed in home galaxy since you were given your Task by your T’Chak masters. And they are organic, just like Eliana, myself and the 6,114 sapients who were here when we arrived.”
BattleMind’s red eyes glared even as its hand claws twitched as if seeking something to tear apart. “There is no comparison between my T’Chak masters and the rest of you organics. They are a perfect species, without genetic flaw, with a vastly greater lifespan than any of you, and with an intelligence so far beyond yours that they could create me and this Dreadnought starship. You compare pebbles to diamonds.”
Matt nodded within his helmet, the faceplate long ago retracted so he could breath natural air. “You are correct. But even with perfect masters and powerful starships like this one, you will be fighting a force larger in number than all the 647 Destruction Devices like yourself.” He paused, then mind-imaged for the helmet to lift off and fold back onto his shoulders. Perhaps his facial expressions would help. “BattleMind, remember the concept of asymmetric warfare that I spoke to you about right after we left Sigma Puppis? And the book by Ivan Arreguin-Toft?”
“I recall the statements and the book,” the alien said, shifting its posture on the Bridge so it pretended to watch the forward holosphere that showed shuttles taking off from the Arrival Hall.
“Well, allowing the 152 humans aboard this starship will allow you to learn more about organics than your knowledge based on just me and Eliana. The way organics relate to each other is part of how and why they fight. Understanding the inferior minds of more organics will . . . enrich the future battle plan of your T’Chak masters. And it will be easy to restrict the human refugees to the food commissary and their roomsuites in the rear kilometer of the Spine. There is no way any of them could access the Bridge or cause you concern about the Restricted Rooms. And I promise you, let me find an Earth-like planet or colony to put them on and we will embark on Stage Two of the Anarchate war plan I discussed with you and Mata Hari. Agreed?”
The dragon’s red eyes fixed on him for long seconds. Then its spike-adorned tail thumped the deck within the holosphere. “Agreed. Bring them up in shuttles, without arms, carrying only personal items.”
“As you wish,” Matt said, causing his helmet to reattach as he had Mata Hari prepare to pouch him out and down to the Arrival Hall. “Oh, some of the humans will have children with them. Small versions of the human form. They may entertain you.”
“Go!” blasted the tooth-filled mouth of BattleMind, as if it recognized Matt’s attempt to joke as the irrelevancy it was. “And human Matthew Dragoneaux, I allow these deviations solely for the purpose of better learning your battle tactic of sneakiness. Some of which I see you displaying in this moment. Remember, your freedom depends on increasing your value to me.”
“Understood,” Matt said over Suit’s external speakers. “Thank you for your patience. I depart.”
The dragon holo blinked out and Mata Hari filled his mind via PET image-thought.
“Well done, Matthew. To BattleMind, having any organic aboard this ship is a contradiction of his Task order,” she said, appearing to him in her white lace Mata Hari outfit, but with a half-smile showing on her face. “See you below. And you will find Eliana in Lounge B, where she has done well with the human refugees.”
Matt smiled as starship Mata Hari tossed him out into the airless void a thousand meters above Arrival Hall.
Eliana drew a deep breath as she surveyed the 152 humans scattered around Lounge B of the Arrival Hall. Some ate from the commissary food alcove. Some returned from the toilet facilities. Most sat in small groups that reflected prior knowledge of others from shared work cycles. The children, of course, ignored those groups and ran in every direction, yelling, playing hide and seek behind some piles of luggage, and squealing when found. She smiled, remembering the delightful play of her niece Calyce, at the Kostes Palamas school for crossbreeds, on Halcyon. She missed Calyce. But she owed Matt her life for his saving of her home planet from destruction by the Halicene Conglomerate’s Stripper. More than 900 million people owed him their lives. Her presence here was just part of that payback. And she did love him, especially as his tender side peeked out from the harsh combat persona he had developed in his seven years as a Vigilante for hire.
“Mistress Eliana?”
She smiled at the approach of Sarah Vasiliades, an accountant for the casino Owners and a fellow Greek by birth. To Sarah had fallen the job of being spokesperson for the refugees. Eliana nodded, with a smile on her face as her combat suit moved easily when she turned.
“Yes Sarah, how can I help you?”
Sarah’s blue eyes squinted with intense thought, though her lustrous black hair showed a few knots from being rousted out of bed an hour ago. The woman wore a blue jumpsuit similar to that worn by most adults in the crowd, since that was the standard uniform for all bondServants. Looking to be in her thirties, though Eliana knew the woman was at least fifty, she gestured back toward the refugee crowd with a slim hand.
“We believe you when you say that your Vigilante Matthew will find room on a starship for all of us, including the children,” she said. “But some of us, women and men both, wonder about what happens later, once we are in Alcubierre Translation to somewhere. Where will we be taken? Will there be jobs for us? How can we support our families?”
“Reasonable questions,” Eliana said. “All I know, from Matt and from our AI Mata Hari, is that after the casino is destroyed, our ship will follow the other starships and head for the heliopause. Assuming we leave before an Anarchate battleglobe shows up to see why no one has done the hourly Tachlink check-ins that the hall’s AI told us are expected.” Sarah nodded, her look of worry deepening. “Our intelligence crystal says the nearest Anarchate naval force is five hours away by Alcubierre Drive Translation.”
“Will we be exposed to starship combat?” Sarah asked tightly.
“Yes, we may have to fight as we leave Zeta Serpentis, depending on how quickly the Anarchate ship commanders act.”
Eliana decided to offer one of her few tidbits of real information. Though it might disturb as much as reassure. “My lifemate Matthew Dragoneaux is even now asking o
ur starship’s alien-made AI for permission to bring all humans aboard the starship. It is two kilometers long and the Spine hallway has hundreds of apartment-like roomsuites on it, in addition to a large commissary.”
Sarah nodded briskly, not letting show the concern she must feel at exposing children to combat in space. “That sounds better than filling Nullgrav cargoholds with this crowd, or splitting us up among multiple ships.”
Eliana admired Sarah’s matter-of-fact acceptance of a reality that she, just months ago, would have been horrified to be part of. “Sarah, please let everyone know that Matt’s starship is more powerful than any Anarchate battleglobe. It has destroyed two of them already. I will be aboard. And I do not think my lifemate would expose me or 152 other humans to peril unless he had a good plan for dealing with any Anarchate attacks. Okay?”
The grim set of Sarah’s brown face eased and her eyes lit up a bit. “I hope so. I so hope so. I’ll let them know the future is uncertain, but we will all be together. Thanks, Eliana.” The woman turned and headed back to a crowd of twenty men and women who clearly had been waiting for her return.
Eliana sighed. She wondered—
“Mistress,” whispered Mata Hari in her ear. “Matthew is returning from our ship. He will be here very soon. And yes, I overhead the conversation with BattleMind. The answer is yes. All the humans will be taken aboard our home.”
She smiled, feeling happy at both the return of Matt and the news that people like her, though they lacked the prehensile tail of Halcyon’s Derindl tree-dwellers, would share part of their future voyage with her and Matt. At last they would have other human company. And children to spoil.
Matt touched the slidedoor entry patch and entered Lounge B of the Arrival Hall, his Suit’s external speakers suddenly going to high pitch as three dozen voices of young and old humans bounced off the metal walls of the lounge. Eliana had heard the slidedoor open and now looked at him. Though still dressed in the yellow combat armor made for her by Mata Hari, her expression looked vulnerable and relieved. He opened his bulky arms as he walked toward her, the clank of his boots drawing notice from nearby humans.
“Dearest,” he whispered into her silky black hair as his combat helmet retreated to rest atop his rocket backpack.
“Matthew!” she murmured as she tried to wrap her arms around him. She squeezed him, which Suit told him even though he felt no compression whatsoever.
He kissed her forehead, uncaring of the fact that half the human refugees now watched them. “As Mata Hari has probably told you, BattleMind has agreed to take our fellow humans onboard. Are they ready to travel? It’s been three point five hours since the pylon was destroyed and it would be nice to depart without further combat. Even if it irritates BattleMind.”
She chuckled against his chest pulse-Doppler radar pack. “She is . . . nicely friendly to me, even if I think her Barbarian Queen look is too blatant.”
Matt smiled, then stood away from Eliana and focused on the approaching humans. The brown-skinned woman named Sarah Vasiliades led the crowd of around a hundred adult humans, with only a few teens and adults occupying the attention of the children in the back of the lounge. Good.
“My fellow humans, I am Matthew Raven’s-Wing Dragoneaux, late of the human colony Thuringia at Pl-3 Orion.” The approaching people slowed, becoming a wide arc focused on him and Eliana. “Eliana has told you of my reason for destroying the casino, of the death of my love as we sought escape from this place’s Owners, and how I came to become a part human, part cyborg Vigilante in my effort to bring justice to a few peoples in our part of the galaxy.” He paused, noting that most faces showed worry mixed with impatience. “Enough of history. This casino will be destroyed in thirty minutes time as part of the lesson I am teaching to Anarchate conglomerates and to its Combat Command about the wrongness of owning people. You will be shuttled to my starship, there to remain in personal roomsuites until we exit this system. After consulting with Sarah and other leaders, I will seek a colony world to which I can take you. Take care of your children, leave any weapons behind and be prepared for handling by my personal AI, Mata Hari. She appears now,” he said, gesturing to his left.
Mata Hari, using the entertainment emitters of the Arrival Hall, took form in a large holosphere. Dressed in her white lace Victorian dress, with a neck choker of pearls, her black hair piled atop her amber face, she nodded at the crowd, then smiled. “Welcome to starship Mata Hari and to my company. We will work to accommodate you. My sensors are everywhere, so if there is a need, just call my name and a part of me will respond,” she said. Then she looked to Matt.
With a nod to the refugee humans he told Suit to bring his combat helmet down, though with a clear faceplate. “While we are in-system and under threat, this is how you will see me. Once departed in Alcubierre Translation, I will be dressed in more normal fashion. Now, we depart! Follow!”
Matt turned with a helmeted Eliana and headed for the slidedoor and the three shuttles that stood ready to transport this crowd. A voice called from behind him. “What about the two human Owners? Where are they? Will they also be rescued?”
A male in his sixties, his hair just showing grey, had spoken. With a minor thought he had Suit tag the human as someone to watch. Activating Suit’s external speakers, he answered.
“The human Owners are slave owners through contract bondage. They will leave with the other thirteen Owners, after every other lifeform is safe in orbit or headed out for the heliopause. Follow.”
Everyone followed him and Eliana. The holo of Mata Hari, Sarah Vasiliades and 151 other humans of all sizes, shapes and ages followed behind, most carrying a briefcase or large suitcase, as instructed by Eliana during his absence. Matt led the way to the three shuttle boarding tubes, then took himself and Eliana into and through a service airlock. Looking up at the purple-black of the starry sky, he called for a lift.
“Mata Hari, please bring us up via tractor beam. I wish to be on the Bridge before boarding.
“Complying, Matthew,” she said.
Within Suit Matt felt the gentle pull upward of one of starship Mata Hari’s tractor beams, a beam strong enough to rip apart the casino dome. They were on their way to escape, and likely to a new Anarchate confrontation. Sighing, Matt hoped his decision to bring refugees aboard the starship would, in truth, give BattleMind some degree of understanding of organic lifeforms. He had some exotic plans for his future war campaign that needed more than rote responses from a very smart, very dangerous, very alien AI.
CHAPTER FIVE
Sitting naked in the Interlock Pit of the Bridge, with Eliana safely sheltered in a cocooning accel-couch to his left, Matt pulled his attention away from the 22 starships that were leaving orbit with the blessing of Mata Hari as she removed her limpet complink controls over their onboard Navigation computers. He took a moment to adjust to his clear plastic seat.
He rested hands on transparent input pads, snugged feet against similar pads, and felt his body restrained by the inertial motion fields. The fields kept him safe during vector changes. Wouldn’t do to have him bouncing off expensive alien hardware. While inertial motion fields were normal in all starships, what was not normal were the low power yellow laser beams that touched him from head to toe.
Optical neurolinking it was. It meant that Matt felt the ship as if it were a suit of clothes. And the ship felt him as if he were . . . what?
As a human-cyborg hybrid, he was used to vid-images displayed against his contact lenses. Used to his body’s autonomic linkage with onboard nanoware CPUs. He’d even gotten used to the knowledge-augmentation databyte nanocubes that rested in his brain’s visual cortex—they gave him See-Identify education in strange phenomena. But this optical neurolinking was different. Even after seven years, he was still adjusting to it. As was Eliana, who had boarded his ship with a rampant hatred of artificial intelligences. Due to a medical tragedy her aunt had suffered. Now, Eliana was . . . female-friendly to Mata Hari whenever his AI mate
rialized in holo form. It was a change he welcomed.
The back of his neck twinged. Mata Hari was reminding him it was time to get under way and leave Omega. With a sigh, Matt reached back, grabbed the multi-pin optical fiber cable, and plugged it into the receptor implanted in the back of his neck. At cervical vertebrae one level.
Matt focused, accepting electronic and lightspeed photonic input.
The dam burst as once more he took in ship systems. He stayed out of ocean-time since no threat had yet appeared. Still, oceans filled him, oceans of sensor-fed data filled his mind’s eye.
“Matthew,” said Mata Hari in his mind and aloud for Eliana’s benefit, “the twenty-third staryacht with the fifteen Owners on board is now departing, but our friend the AI Gatekeeper has left it and is heading our way. He wishes to board us and travel as part of the human grouping. What do I tell him?”
Matt appreciated the fact that Mata Hari was talking to him at slow human normal speed, rather than forcing him into ocean-time and direct tachlink with Gatekeeper. “Tell him he is welcome, but must remain in the commissary section and not seek to interfere with any ship systems whatsoever, unless you, I or BattleMind ask for his assistance. Does he agree?”
“He agrees,” Mata Hari said in a tone that felt to Matt like excitement. Hmmm. A female AI and a male AI. Could there be more to the two of them being together than simple algorithm sharing? “Matthew! Stop thinking that way!”
Matt grinned to himself, did not look at Eliana and thought/spoke agreement. “Yes, that was impolite of me. Have the ship’s flexhull pouch out, englobe him and deliver him to the commissary now that he understands our conditions of acceptance.”
“Complying,” Mata Hari said with a stiffness to her tone that made Matt bite his lip. He focused instead on the forward holosphere which depicted Omega and the Casino dome and Guardian box. He tensed both biceps. “Mata Hari, feed full power to the antimatter pontoons, please.”
Vigilante Series 2: Nebula Vigilante Page 6
