Anarchate Vigilante (Vigilante Series 4)

by T. Jackson King

  “Thank you for the information and welcome,” he said, putting his ID disk in his shoulder bag. “However, I think beer and seeing one of your Hunt plays will come before food!”

  The Teecheen waved him inward with a friendly nod.

  Walking into the interior of the Lounge building, George stopped in front of a self-service air skimmer pedestal. He waved his ID disk over the top of the pedestal, waited for the face of a Teecheen to appear in a pre-recorded welcome, waved his hand through the holo to make it stop, then touched the Options spot of the holo and ordered a bubble top skimmer. At the holo’s prompting he ran the ID disk through its field again, then withdrew it as the pedestal displayed a color image of the skimmer that would be awaiting him on the far side of the Lounge building. Passing through a loose crowd of aliens from the Meligun, Orko, Spelidon, Brokeet, Loglan and other species he did not recognize, George stepped outside. He entered the open cockpit of the skimmer, waved his hand over the control panel, and spoke his wishes to the onboard expert program.

  “NavCore, fly to downtown Halath, circle the city once at an altitude of one hundred meters above the tallest city structure, and identify beer service locations as we pass over them,” he said in Belizel.

  “Complying,” said a Teecheen voice in the sharp screech talk normal for the arboreal species. “Advertisements for a variety of oxy-nitro breather services are—”

  “Stop. Discontinue any audiovisual advertisements,” George muttered, not liking how ‘advanced’ the Teecheen were in selling their wares.

  “Advertisements cease. Cessation requires a supplemental rent payment of one platinum Standard. Lifting off.”

  George grimaced. In the Anarchate nothing was free. Or simple. Including the option of travel incognito. He was aware the security archway had facial and body recognition sensors that would alert any interested Anarchate official about the number of bipedal aliens who landed today at the Halath shuttle field. That was why Matt could not appear in person on Megil. His face and morphoform were surely on the Watch programs of all Security stations in the Anarchate. Whereas his own image ID and morphoform were last on record as working for Omega Casino in Zeta Serpentis system. He might be seen as a refugee from Matt’s attack on the casino, but nothing connected him with the crusade against cloneslavery.

  “The destruction of the Flesh Markets section appears total,” said Inevitable in her soft feminine voice. She floated in his mind’s-eye, a ten foot tall dragon of black wings, long tail, two muscular forearms, wingclaws on the forward edges of her wings, and purple spikes along her spinal ridgeline.

  “So it would appear.”

  George looked down at the circle of raw brown dirt that showed a ten meter depth. Ponds of slimy water spotted the one kilometer width of the total destruction zone. A ring of half-standing pyramid buildings, their roofs flat like the pyramids of the ancient Mayan people, showed fallen stone blocks, collapsed walls, and burned debris inside rooms and hallways that lay open to the weather. As the air skimmer flew toward the intact outer urban area of Halath, George saw plenty of land vehicles and other skimmers moving hurriedly. He looked back at the total destruction zone. Land dozers driven by tall black-skinned Teecheen were trying to level out some areas of partial destruction, while in the center of the zone someone was piling up dirt and stone to form what might become a Park island. Small trees, shrubs and other bushes occupied an area of the destruction zone, their roots encased in fabric for replanting on the Park island. Well, it had been months since the attack by Hexagon Prime fleet. It was to be expected that some municipal official would try to reclaim the area of total destruction.

  “NavCore,” he called to the skimmer’s simple mind. “Modify flight plan to inspect countryside to the west of Halath city, and north of the river Fertile. Flight plan to view landscape out to twenty nipads.”

  “Complying.”

  George settled back in the cushioned seat. While the skimmer’s clear bubble roof lay far above his head due to the three meter height normal for the Teecheen, the cockpit area had room for just three Teecheen bipeds. Room enough for his shoulder bag and for spreading out the dried food he’d brought along. A picnic somewhere near the estate of Charlotte’s owner seemed like a nice option for industrial spying.

  It took only an hour to located the estate of Nak ho-mesk. It lay fifteen nipads due west of Halath, on top of a hillock that was adorned with green grass and scattered red-barked trees. No roadway showed and the skimmer landing pad within the two meter high estate walls made clear the Meligun bear came and went in his own air skimmer. George ordered the skimmer to land in a small meadow surrounded by trees and ground shrubs. While the meadow lay just two kilometers from the estate, he and the skimmer were not easily visible to security vidmonitors on the estate roof and wall pillars. He got up, grabbed the shoulder bag, and stepped out in the warmth of a late afternoon on Megil. As with Earth, the local yellow sun would set in the west. He tossed a green tarp onto the ground, sat down, opened up the bag and pulled out a squeeze tube of Teecheen beer. He laid back on one elbow and squirted some beer into his mouth.

  “Damn!” he yelled to the red and yellow feathered birds that flittered away from nearby trees at the sound of his yell.

  Suzanne took immediate form in his mind. “George! Are you okay?”

  “Yup.” He looked down at the beer tube, letting Suzanne see the Teecheen icons that spelled out something in the local language. “This local beer is the slime pits! Tastes like honey mixed with lime juice! Ugh!”

  She laughed in his mind, her voice tone somehow sounding Swedish. “So that was the cause of your mindburst!”

  “Mindburst?” Then he recalled the telepathic mindlink that Suzanne and Eliana shared. It was very similar to the FTL tachlink signals that connected each fleet pilot by way of the embedded tach node. “Uh, sorry to disturb whatever you, Eliana, Matt and the other folks were doing.”

  The deep blackness of interstellar space filled the background behind Suzanne. Only the stars Alkalurops A, and the binaries B and C, showed any closeness. The fleet lay ten light years out, on the side of space opposite to where the cloneslaver ship rendezvous had been held. The fleet’s exit from Alcubierre stardrive there, well away from the heliopause of Alkalurops C, made their gravity pulses weak and not likely to draw the attention of any Anarchate official on Megil. Suzanne’s slim neck, brown freckles and pale Nordic skin glowed with health as she focused a sober look on him.

  “No problem. Matt and the rest of us are just planning our approach to Antares A star and how to get close to the Halicene-run planet Working. Working is a far busier Trade port than Megil. And his mother Kristen is surely there.”

  George noticed the setting of Alkalurops C. Soon it would be dark since the moon Salla would not arise over this part of Megil until well after midnight. He nodded mentally to Suzanne. “Well, thank you for your understanding. And do stay awake until I check in with my report on whether Charlotte is here. I hope she is, for Matt’s sake. But she could be traveling with this Rak character. We’ll know soon.”

  “That we will,” she said, chewing pensively on a curl of her golden hair. “George, I need you. I need to feel your living strength. Come back soon to me.”

  Her image vanished from the Park mind meadow, leaving George alone mentally, except for the constant green mindglow of Inevitable. His dragon AI’s attention was focused on routine orbital mechanics, maintenance of the twelve fusion power plants aboard the ship, the balance of water and oxygen with ship air, and the minor impact of stellar wind ionized particles. Inevitable shifted a small part of her attention to him.

  “Shall I send your suit to you?” the AI asked. “It can fly to you on Repulsor power, while the Nullgrav boots will allow you to pass over the estate walls without touching them.”

  “Yes, please send suit to me.”

  George turned away from the shadows of the meadow and the closed bubble dome of the air skimmer to focus on the black stone o
f the estate walls and the inner buildings. The central building was clearly the habitation area, as the three outlying buildings were either a shelter for air skimmers or for automated garden bots that kept the shrubs, flowers and water pools in pleasant shape. He saw at least one white gravel pathway disappearing into a garden area close by the two stories of the habitation building. There was no sign of any living person on the estate, or any guardbots on active patrol.

  “I am here,” said his combat suit’s external Talker.

  He turned and faced the two and a half meter tall combat suit, its white ceramic armor adorned with Matt’s Running Wolf logo. Atop the armor sparkled tiny sapphire beads that served as deflectors of laser beams. “Welcome, my friend,” he said aloud to suit’s Tactical CPU. “Open the back entry and let’s get this invasion going!”

  “Invasion?” said suit’s CPU. “Oh. Our flight into yonder ground installation. Concept added to my data archive.”

  He chuckled. Moments later George was inside suit, the helmet faceplate clear to the starry night sky. But on the right quadrant of faceplate glowed the infrared image of the land between him and the estate, while the left quadrant showed all radiation in the area, including cosmic rays, gamma rays, search radars, high energy power sources like the single source in the main estate building, and any source of artificial movement. He ignored the few red blobs of local night predators and focused on the purple data feed from Spy Eye gyrocopters, sensorBeads and the shadowy form of the Offense Sled that Inevitable had sent down to provide him with data feeds and defense support. An Eyes-Up display filled the center of the faceplate.

  “Moving to AutoDefense mode. Ready to lift on Nullgrav,” the Tactical CPU said in his ear.

  As the suit’s fiber optic cable socketed into the back of his neck, George’s mind split into many parts. Some parts focused on his starship Inevitable and what her T’Chak AI was doing. Some parts shared awareness of the discussion by Matt and the other six pilots on how to approach Antares A. Some parts of his mind monitored local vidcasts and emergency channel chatter in Belizel. But most of his mind fixed on the stone walls and blocks of the estate that lay nearby. Suit’s telescopic lenses enhanced the night view, bringing into close focus every bush and every trail that surrounded the darkness of the habitat buildings.

  “Watch for life signs,” he told the CPU. “Be alert for passive sensor activations. Assume a horizontal flight pattern suggestive of the giant avian vultures that inhabit the seacoast areas. Also, avoid any active sensor emissions. I need to approach this target unobserved. But do keep sensors alert to buried sonophones that would detect footfalls on the interior estate grounds. And stay above any ground level motion detectors!”

  “George,” purred suit’s Tactical CPU in a feminine tone. “Infiltration and Observation are standard combat scenarios. But thank you for your organic guidance.”

  Was his suit’s CPU being sarcastic? Matt said his own suit had shown signs of developing a sense of . . . humor. But George and his suit were new to each other. Surely his CPU had not been infected by Matt’s combat suit?

  His worries were pointless. Suit flew him over the estate wall, keeping him at a hundred meters elevation, even as the suit made a zig-zag approach in imitation of the large avian that relied on smell rather than eyesight to locate dead carcasses. In a few minutes they flew over the central building. Looking down with infrared and UV sight, George noticed the two story building had an open central area split into two zones. A large water pond lay at one end. A dividing wall separated the pond from the red-glowing flagstones of a rest area with pathways curving among bush-filled planters. To both sides of the rest area stood vertical pillars that supported a roof for the walkway that ran down the four sides of the rest area. The walkway gave access to three wings of smaller rooms. A massive pile of stone blocks formed the fourth side of the habitat. The flat roof of that section showed a five meter wide skylight which allowed daylight to enter a large interior floor.

  “No movement detected through the side windows or skylight,” suit said in a tone similar to Suzanne’s voice. “No infrared emissions by living entities detected. So far. Shall we enter?”

  George knew that landing on the walkways would for sure activate pressure or movement sensors, or both. And suit’s faceplate showed the criss-cross strands of low power laser movement detectors at mid-body height for most people. “Suit, have one of the limpet complinks attach to that tachyon pylon on one building corner. Use the pylon as the access route for the complink to find and infiltrate the habitat’s Core computer.”

  “Complying, my good man.”

  In a few seconds his faceplate’s Eyes-Up display showed the interior of the building, sectioned into basement, first floor and second floor, with every room, utility run and wireless energy broadcast spot highlighted. Using interior vid monitors, the complink highlighted a room on the second floor as the likely bedroom of Charlotte, based on the presence of an active security zone. A zone that was smaller than the zone identified with the large main bedroom likely used by the Meligun bear. There were no red blobs indicative of living people. Damn!

  “Any indication that Charlotte may be present in her bedroom?”

  “None,” said the Tactical CPU. “However, the habitat’s Core computer holds gigabytes of vidimages of Charlotte during her years of life here. There may also be personal vidrecords within her bedroom. And likely clothes she wore. Only entry to the bedroom will indicate whether she sleeps there, covered by a Do Not Disturb order to the monitor eyes of the Core, or whether she left the planet in company with her Meligun owner.”

  “We enter through the skylight then,” George said. “Any sign of active or passive security systems linked to the skylight?”

  His Nullgrav boots lowered George to a hover just above a hinged portion of the skylight.

  “Yes,” the CPU said. “Air pressure inside the habitat building is maintained at a level greater than normal outside atmosphere. If the skylight entry pane were left open by an intruder, the loss in internal air pressure would activate a Security Call to the local civilian police. And a feed to the Meligun’s personal datapad. My complink is in control of this passive detector. When you enter, be sure to close the skylight panel.”

  Damn and damn again, George thought. His years doing repair work at Omega Casino had educated him to a variety of active and passive security sensors, including ground pressure sensors that reported to a central Alarm CPU. But never had he encountered an air pressure change sensor! That system did not rely on low power laser beams, acoustic sound waves that filled a room, ground pressure sensors, or bodyheat detectors. Which made the Core takeover by the limpet complink vital to the success of his stealth entry.

  “Entering,” he muttered to the CPU. “Skylight closed. Moving on hover to suspected room of Charlotte.”

  In four seconds George and suit arrived just outside the double door entry to Charlotte’s room. Faceplate showed door security was the simplest of detectors. A small current ran from one metal door to the other by way of a locking latch. Move the latch sideways and the current flow was broken. With a silent signal sent to the habitat Core computer.

  Suit’s Tactical CPU activated the helmet flare lights. The bedroom lit up with bright yellow light. He floated through the front living room that showed scenic holos embedded in the walls and entered the open entry that led to the girl’s bedroom. A one person bed filled the left corner of the room. No one lay there. Nor did any lifeform make any sound in the nearby bathroom. Nor in the slatted closet that filled one wall of Charlotte's bedroom.

  “Slavers be damned!” cursed Matt in his mind.

  George saw the anger that filled Matt’s face even as he mindfelt the emotion of hope dashed that came to him over the tachlink node. “She’s not here, Matthew. But the complink has recovered thousands of vidcast images of her during her years growing up in this estate.” George flashed one from when the girl turned 20 and had dressed up in a colorful su
mmer dress similar to the type often worn by Mata Hari in her Summer Girl persona. “She was beautiful then. And Charlotte was alive, here, until three months ago. That’s when she and the Meligun merchant left on a multi-star search for an IT specialist. Their last stop, according to the habitat’s Core memory, was to be the world Module, at 51 Pegasi. Guess Charlotte is on Module.”

  Matthew fixed his on George. His Apache cheekbones showed a redness greater than the Polynesian red-brown that was his normal skin color. “George, my thanks. While Megil’s civil archive showed her owner had left months ago, there was still a chance she’d been left in the care of robots, or on her own, until Nak ho-mesk returned.”

  Eliana’s white face glowed suddenly in the mind communion shared by Matt and George. “Matthew, I’m so sorry your sister is not here! But there is some good from this visit. We have her life history for the last 15 years from our control of the house Core. We know what she looks like now, at age 29. And we know where she likely is, on Module. That data is all to the good. Yes?”

  George felt Matt’s mind turn stone cold sober. No emotion escaped from his battlemate. The man who’d spent seven years working as a Vigilante to bring justice and hope to small planets was now in control. In total control, as when he’d led the fleet into the recent battles against Anarchate fleets.

  “Yes, Eliana, it is good to see how my sister looks. And to know she survived the last 15 years.” Matt paused, his eyes going distant. “And thanks to the Core records, we know she will return here with her Meligun owner. We do not know the same about my mother Kristen. She is last known to be living on the Antares C world of Working, in the habitat of her Mican owner. We go there next, to rescue her. No matter what lifeform, ship or fleet stands in my way, I will rescue my mother!”