“Yes,” he said, feeling as if he were being inundated by a cosmic ocean of thoughts. “All living beings, whether organic or inorganic, deserve the right to control their lives, to live in security and to seek alliances with others who desire a satisfying life.”
“But order is needed in any society,” said TrueLife. “That is why my fellows dispatched our Dreadnought ships to your galaxy. We saw the anarchy there and knew the other lifeforms in your galaxy needed mentorship.” It paused. “But now we are too few to perform such mentorship. Where stands Stage Three of your grand plan?”
Matt drew a deep breath and licked his lips, giving thanks he was not in ocean-time mode. “If you could offer guidance to me and to BattleMind on how to use the hundreds of Destruction Devices that now rest at the Lacunae Mindworks, we could . . . guide them to follow us into the Milky Way. With their help we could cause the collapse of the Anarchate. I have one organic pilot volunteer in my friend George. He can operate the Interlock Pit of a Dreadnought starship.”
“Perhaps he could,” TrueLife said with a touch of tiredness. “But there are hundreds of Dreadnoughts now asleep in orbit around the world of the Mindworks. You have only yourself, your lifepartner, this George and his lifepartner to assist you. Even by use of this asymmetric warfare that BattleMind passed to me, you are too few to make any difference.”
“He has and will always have my help,” interrupted Mata Hari. “And my friend Gatekeeper is willing to help guide your starships along our pathway. In time, Matthew will gain more organic volunteers to man your fleet. Then it will be able to challenge the power of the Anarchate. And to provide mentorship to the large galaxy, as you originally intended.”
Matt sensed the approach of Gatekeeper’s globe. “She is correct, master of the T’Chak. She and I are . . . bonded in emotions similar to those of these organics. We will help Matthew and George carry out Stage Three of his plan. We too object to bondservitude for lifeforms, whether organic or an AI such as myself. That was the only life I knew on the planet Omega. Until Matthew and Mata Hari showed me another way of living.”
Matt gave thanks for the loyalty of his AI comrades. But there were more people here than just them. “TrueLife, the Haktoon lifeforms known by the names Lateen and Argane seek permission for their species to colonize Temtok. It is a planet your species never colonized due to its heat and humidity. The Haktoon are a species who came to spaceflight after the arrival of the killing disease. Perhaps, with their help, you and other living T’Chak could experience a . . . resurgence of life, of culture, a life that involves discovering new intelligences that may now inhabit your Small Magellanic Cloud. In the past, you T’Chak were alone. Now you have company after we humans depart. Why not welcome the Haktoon? You could mentor them in the way you planned for the large galaxy.”
George smiled at Matt as his friend took in the options that Matt was presenting mentally and verbally. He too seemed to think there was hope for freedom and justice in the Milky Way.
“We T’Chak have long hoped to be mentors to younger lifeforms. I will adopt these Haktoon and their Mother Combine as my special project.” The giant dragon ordered the fiber optic cable to disconnect from Matt, then stood slowly on its feet. “As for allowing you to control our Dreadnoughts, with the assistance of BattleMind, that depends.”
“Depends on what?” said Matt, hoping that everyone else had heard their full conversation.
“Matt!” called Mata Hari. “There are—”
“Battleglobes of this Anarchate have arrived just beyond our outer planet,” TrueLife said. “There are three gravity wave pulses. They will arrive here within six hours as you measure time. I will track their neutrino emissions. And I will lend the Assault Remotes on our moon to you. If you and BattleMind and your companions are able to destroy these intruders before they damage HomeWorld, you will have proven your ability to undertake Stage Three. Once you overcome these intruders, I will provide BattleMind with the activation code for every Dreadnought now in orbit about the Lacunae Mindworks. Agreed?”
“Yes!” said Matt as his mind filled with an image of the icy planetoid that was this system’s planet seven. “Will you preserve our Haktoon guests? They and their ship have no ability to fight the Anarchate.”
“Of course,” said TrueLife as it walked slowly toward the mind globe of Great Remnant. “My Defense modules will allow their ship to land on our moon. And one of my Nullgrav modules will deliver them to their ship after you depart. Is that agreeable, lifeforms Lateen and Argane?”
Matt walked past the Haktoon starfish crabs with George, Eliana and Suzanne following, as did the holo of Mata Hari and Gatekeeper’s globe. He noticed that Elegant Harmony’s mind globe floated next to the living T’Chak, as if it had found its life purpose by staying here. So be it.
“Yes, great Old One,” said Lateen in a short series of clicks. “We welcome your mentorship. We thank you for the permission to colonize Temtok. We—”
“Enough appreciation,” growled TrueLife. “There is work to be done here and in space. Depart, humans and mind moduli, and see to these invaders.” It turned to the globe of Great Remnant. “But first, I need food my little mind modulus. Where is such to be found?”
Matt thought briefly of sharing some meat, cheese and wine from the Morrigan stockpile, then realized he and his companions would need that food during their return to home galaxy.
“So true,” murmured Mata Hari in his mind. “And I do like how you humans automatically assume you will win this Anarchate encounter.” Her mind image smiled at him as she pulled on her chain-mail top and wrapped the bronze-plated leather skirt around her waist. “Note that they are three, you are one, and some of your tactics will have been shared with them. After all, the only reason they can be here is because one of your Anarchate battles included mention of the T’Chak. Someone in Combat Command must have located ancient records of where they lived. And dispatched these battleglobes to guarantee you do not receive new Dreadnoughts.”
“Then Combat Command will be disappointed,” Matt said as they exited from the roost pillar. “Lifting.” He and George rose on their boot Nullgravs, as did the globes of Gatekeeper and BattleMind, while tractor beams lifted Eliana and Suzanne.
In the Interlock Pit, Matt fixed his attention on the three Nova battleglobes at the outer edge of TrueHome’s planetary family, giving thanks that on their way into this system Mata Hari had cast off tachlink Remotes that now fed him FTL images of the Anarchate forces. The battleglobes moved inward at a velocity of one-half lightspeed. No doubt the battleglobes were being preceded by SpyEyes, sensorRemotes, tachlink Remotes, mobile megaton bombs, Picket Globes and similar weaponry. Well, their pressor fields and laser mounts could take care of the solid objects. It was the Anarchate’s lightspeed weapons and the ability to predict where starship Mata Hari would be that most concerned Matt. But they would have some help. Passing by the moon of HomeWorld they were joined by two Offense Remotes, each one a third the size of Mata Hari. Each possessed antimatter pontoons at the top, bottom, sides and forward nose of ships that resembled outrigger boats. As BattleMind took care of tachlink coordination with the Offense Remotes, he became aware the remotes lacked Alcubierre drives. They carried only fusion pulse system drives.
“Mata Hari, those remotes. They cannot follow us when we go into Translation. Can our ship expand its Alcubierre Translation field to include them?”
“Yes,” she said, creating attachment dimples on the rear sides of the Dreadnought for the Offense Remotes. “I am instructing them to approach and attach. Once we arrive wherever you choose to Translate, they will cast loose and maneuver on their own power.”
“Good,” he said as his mind vision perceived the approach of the giant remotes. “Extend our stealth coverage to include them. Once past the moon we will Translate to the side of the three battleglobes. Their Combat CPUs are probably set to fire at any gravity pulse that arrives behind them or in front of them. We will arrive in
a spot I have never used before.”
Flowing into ocean-time was almost easy this time. Perhaps his encounters with TrueLife and the increasing care of BattleMind prevented the usual shock he felt. Whatever the reason, he now felt the ship as if it were a skintight vacsuit. Inside he linked directly to the ship’s normal weapons, including the Bethe Inducer. BattleMind moved to control the Graviton Beam and the Sun Glow weapons, along with other Restricted Room devices. Mata Hari flowed over both him and BattleMind, feeding them both the power and function levels of every part of the ship. Splitting his mental attention, Matt used Repulsor power to shift the starship’s hull 90 degrees to the right and made sure the six wing antimatter pontoons were fully loaded with neutronic antimatter ready to be sent in a coherent beam at any target his mind sighted. Finally, BattleMind activated the Alcubierre space-time to Translate them to within ten light seconds of the incoming battleglobes.
Five picoseconds, murmured Mata Hari.
The front holo turned grey briefly, then space black with its tapestry of colorful stars that filled Cluster Prime. In front of them glowed the ten second old image of the Novas’ twelve kilometer-wide globes. BattleMind activated the flat Alcubierre fields that would shield them from any automated attack beam.
Six picoseconds, five femtoseconds.
The flat space-time sheets formed in front of Matt and to the sides of Mata Hari, their shapes enclosing the attached Offense Remotes. He knew they had ten light seconds before any laser or antimatter beam reached them. With a thought he fired the right wing’s three AM pontoons, each targeting a single battleglobe. The left wing’s pontoons fired just above the predicted pathway of the battleglobes so any movement out of their vector line would be covered by at least one AM beam. With a shiver he cast off the Offense Remotes. They used their fusion pulse drives to move away from Mata Hari’s approach vector. Matt told the belly Nullgrav plates to move them upward, off of the vector line that their gravity wave signal would indicate to the automated Combat CPUs of the three battleglobes.
Forty-two milliseconds.
Matt fired scores of his laser mounts at both the standard vector of the battleglobes and at a circle of spots where they might move as a result of detecting his ship’s gravity wave pulse. The globes were arranged in a vee-shape, with one globe leading the other two. With a clenching of his stomach, he ordered the axial accelerator to eject a purple plasma globe at the spot just ahead of where the globe cluster might be within ten light seconds.
Four point five seconds.
Approaching the battleglobe cluster with the ship’s dragon snout aimed forward and with both T’Chak wings fully extended as the ship slowly rose above the gravity wave vector, Matt told the ship’s fusion pulse spacedrive to speed up from one-half lightspeed to three-fourths lightspeed. The distance between Mata Hari and the Novas was so small that the speedup would make little difference. Except the vector speed gain might throw off the CPU calculations that governed offensive action by the battleglobes. At least until an organic commander chose to modify the automated offense responses of the battleglobes.
Nine seconds.
Matt fired more neutron antimatter beams at the projected vector course of the battleglobes, then tensed as his mind filled with thousands of data inputs and status alerts from inside and outside the ship. Around him his companions were shielded by inertial fields and the crash clamshells of their accel-couches. Gatekeeper had left the Bridge long moments earlier to see to the inertial containment of the park and the swimming pool. Its concern for the frogs and crawling insects pleased Matt.
Ten seconds.
Four black antimatter beams hit the forward Alcubierre space-time field, disappearing into another part of the universe. The beams had come from the equatorial AM mounts of two Novas. The lead Nova that lay a thousand kilometers ahead of the trailing two Novas did not fire at them. Why not?
Eternity passed as Matt waited for the ten second old image of the damage done to the battleglobes by his initial barrage. A ten second journey to the globes meant an identical ten second journey back to his ship’s sensors.
In the holosphere both rear battleglobes moved off their initial vector, one rising slowly and the second dropping slowly off of their inward vector. The rise was not large enough to avoid his barrage of AM beams. The front Nova, though, slowed down its speed, as if it knew his plasma globe approached it. From the forward globe’s equatorial mounts came two black antimatter beams that hit their Alcubierre shield as soon as Matt saw them. Then the front Nova shifted its vector line to straight up and away from its inward vector.
The holo filled with white explosions as his first AM barrage hit the two rear Novas, causing each Nova to lose a third of its mass. The Novas began to tumble in space, as if out of control. Ahead of them the front Nova’s forward hull was creased by Matt’s first AM beam, then missed entirely by his second beam. A red-glowing furrow showed on the lead Nova. Then its thick hull sparkled as fifteen excimer, neutral particle and proton laser beams hit it, but none of them penetrated the half-kilometer thick armor of the Nova. It continued to lift above its approach vector, clearly under control by a living commander.
Twenty-one seconds.
Matt saw that the antimatter beams fired by both Assault Remotes hit mainly the two trailing Novas, causing them to break into large pieces. Those Novas would either explode from the release of inheld antimatter or from magfield control loss in its fusion power plants. He ordered all six wing pontoons to fire at the front Nova that was rising well off the approach vector, knowing nothing would happen for ten seconds. The result of whatever happened would not be known for twenty seconds. A lifetime while in ocean-time.
The image of the surviving Nova shimmered. But not from a startup of the Bethe Inducer field. Could this Nova have learned—
“Translate now! To between HomeWorld and its moon, on the planet side facing us. Now!”
“Complying, Matthew,” said Mata Hari’s mind-flow.
Twenty-two seconds.
The grey of Alcubierre space-time filled the front holosphere. He spoke slower than he thought.
“The two Novas are dead or will be when the Assault Remotes arrive on their vector,” he told the shapes of his companions as they asked why the combat images had disappeared. “But the front Nova has Translated away from here. I believe it is heading for HomeWorld to use its Bethe Inducer on the planet.”
“Nooooo!” roared the mind-voice of BattleMind as its swirling mentality read his memory of the Megadeen battle and his conclusion the same Jump and Attack maneuver was being tried by this Anarchate globe.
“Peace!” he cried to the purple hurricane. “I cannot fight if your mind knocks me out.”
“If there is any harm to HomeWorld why I will—”
Twenty-three seconds.
The holo cleared to show stars and the grey surface of HomeWorld’s moon. To one side of the moon glowed the surviving Nova battleglobe. It lay three light seconds from them. Its hull showed the shimmer of its Bethe Inducer weapon as a large hole opened in one part of the globe that faced them. They were in the way of the Inducer beam, which would of course take out them and the world behind them. Matt’s mind fired two AM beams at the globe’s position, then took hold of the Alcubierre Drive chamber.
Translation would save them.
But their exit would kill them all since Matt had chosen to emerge at the exact space-time spot occupied by the Nova. He barely had time to think of Eliana before—
A red-glowing gas cloud appeared before them and then was swept away by their passage through it and toward the grey surface of the moon. A moon that showed a red-glowing spot at its north pole. Behind them the two antimatter beams he had fired impacted on the rear Alcubierre shield.
“Thank you for your effort to give your lives to save my world,” came the mind-flow and spoken words of TrueLife. “But the Tachyon Beam installed on our moon delivered a large amount of antimatter to the spot occupied by the Nova. With
no time lag due to lightspeed delays. The Nova’s destruction preceded your arrival by three hundred milliseconds. Your emergence was perfectly safe.”
Eliana looked at him, her face showing shock as she understood he had chosen to sacrifice her, Suzanne and George in order to save a world. Tears showed in her eyes, as they did in Suzanne’s. It was George who kept him from seeking death.
“It was necessary, Matthew,” his combat companion said. “Your geis is to save all worlds from the Anarchate. Whether there is one life on a world, or billions. I do not think I would have had your . . . devotion to honor to do what you just did.”
Matt exited ocean-time and slumped in the Pit. “But, but, I nearly killed you all!”
“But you didn’t,” Eliana said, leaving her accel-couch and walking over to kneel beside his head. A head that ached from the force of BattleMind’s reaction. He shivered at the cool touch of her lips on his cheek. “And now we, we four, we have a chance to bring an end to bond servitude in a galaxy where evil is normal, kindness is rare and people of all shapes need more in life than simple survival.”
“Yes,” whispered Suzanne as she hugged George to her. “Now, we all have a future to look forward to.”
From the Spine slidedoor Gatekeeper floated in to hover beside his Mata Hari, whose holo appearance showed a smile and joy that flowed over her shape the way sunlight fills a meadow. “We thank you too, Matthew. We realized your intention before Translation, but we agree with George. It was necessary.”
“And well done,” growled the holo of BattleMind as it approached Matt and Eliana. Its red eyes did not show anger. “A good . . . partner you are. TrueLife agrees and has sent me the code needed to activate my brethren. Agreed?”
Matt looked at the somber faces of George, Suzanne and dear Eliana. “We do not have to do any more world saving. We can take this ship or another and return home. Perhaps tending a soybean farm would be for the best. Especially for our future children.”
Vigilante Series 2: Nebula Vigilante Page 32
