Anarchate Vigilante (Vigilante Series 4)

by T. Jackson King

  CHAPTER SIX

  High Commander Sytoon sat in the saline water of his rest bowl, his four eyestalks fixed on three holo pedestals as they fed him images of the recent attack on the sector admin base in star system CC3214, which lay inside a star cluster cross-listed as the Dumbbell Nebula M27. After the defeat of the local battleglobe defense and the destruction of the admin planet, the F2V star had gone nova. Thanks to a new tactic developed by the fleet’s new Sector Captain, one Running Leader of the Dolmat species. Telling his chromatophore shell colors to show the color swirls of Calm Knowledge, Sytoon leaned two eyestalks toward his fellow Loglan, one Kontine.

  “Chief assistant,” he clicked in succinct Belizel. “How does this battle compare to ones collected by your former Commander Chai?”

  “Very similar, High Commander,” hurriedly clicked Kontine as his own shell colors betrayed an excess of worry. “The fleet of the renegade Human appeared suddenly out of Alcubierre drive within a few light seconds of the planet. The ships instantly assumed their Alcubierre defense shields, then antimatter beams lashed out at the three battleglobes in orbit. As the alien fleet passed by the planet, a graviton beam reduced the planet and admin domes to a small black hole. However, their pursuit of the two Courier ships without firing on them does not fit the normal attack pattern.”

  Sytoon switched away from the battle holo recovered from an Observer Globe and focused on another of Chai’s former aides, a hairy soft-skinned biped of the Meligun species who called itself Rak alk-thorn. Watching from the background was the former aide to Sector 14’s former Intel head Brrzeet. That aide, a long-necked Hootnai carnivore by the name sigil of Dokeel am-thak, had been very quiet since Sytoon had ordered it and its two comrades to report for duty at the new headquarters of Sector 14 Intel in Sagittarius Arm.

  “Rak alk-thorn, can you supplement the analysis of Chief Assistant Kontine?” Sytoon asked.

  The two pink eyes of the hairy land dweller met his gaze. “Yes. The renegade Human known as Matthew Dragoneaux made a miscalculation after destruction of the primary defense units. The hairless biped allowed its curiosity to draw it after the Couriers, leading it and its fellow ships into the Nova Blast trap designed by Sector Captain Running Leader. Its T’Chak ships barely escaped total immolation.”

  Sytoon noticed again that the Hootnai quadruped kept quiet. Well, he would be quiet too if his immediate superior decided to use a secret Bethe Inducer to blow up the star that was home to your workplace. Perhaps it was still in shock. Inhaling the cool salty water of his basin, Sytoon gestured at a side holo with one of his pincer-feet.

  “And this star Antares A. Mindstorm of the Council of Sixteen says the progenitor of this soft-skinned, land-dwelling biped has been located on planet Working, which orbits the red supergiant star. Its operative Medun aims to purchase or capture the Human’s progenitor. Does anyone have an opinion on this effort of sector Leader Mindstorm?”

  “I do.” The elevated head of Dokeel am-thak nodded slightly. It tilted down to fix a single eye on Sytoon and the survivors of Chai’s Intel globe. “The effort of Mindstorm to capture a blood relative of this Human and to then use her as a ‘lure’ to draw the Human to a place of entrapment is useful. Since our battleglobes have failed in most battles with the strange T’Chak Dreadnought ships, a psychological-emotional attack is the only other option we have available. Other than a lucky Nova Blast which vaporizes one or more of the Human’s warships.”

  Sytoon ignored the twisting of Kontine’s mouth palps, a classic sign of anxiety among all Loglan. “Dokeel, why do you endorse a tactic which led to the destruction of Sector 14’s prior headquarters location?”

  Dokeel squealed in some kind of emotional reaction. The noise irritated the acoustic receptors of the Meligun biped but mattered not to him and Kontine. “High Commander, leader of this new Intel base, the loss of the prior base was due to mistaken assumptions about the size of the Human’s attack fleet. And due to arrogant assumptions by my former commander. Who sought to sacrifice thousands of Anarchate personnel to his personal advancement. We know better now. Which is why Sector Captain Running Leader is unlikely to provide the Human with stationary battleglobes for target practice.”

  Sytoon felt a touch of amusement. Which was a rare feeling among most Loglan. His species were the premier researchers among all galactic species. Their advantage over every other species was access to planetary and cluster data banks that held millions of years of records by the 12,231 space-going species of the Anarchate galaxy. While Sooteen, leader for Sector 16 may have supported his elevation to Sector 14 Intel chief, he knew that his achievement record of the last fifty cycles had convinced Leader Mindstorm to appoint him to head the new Sector 14 Intel base. It was now up to him to provide proof of the superiority of the Loglan in matters such as covert intelligence.

  “The analytical input of you three staff is appreciated.” Sytoon paused, allowing his refugee staff to sense the difference in management styles between him and the dead Brrzeet. “The efforts of Mindstorm’s envoy Medun may or may not yield results. If captured, the Human’s progenitor may or may not serve as a lure to this biped. What is known is that this Dragoneaux biped belongs to the species Human. They are a Newcomer species in the galaxy. Their homeworld, one Earth, has settled 27 colonies scattered across three of the galactic arms.” Sytoon waved a pincer over the holo pedestal controls, causing the three holos to collapse into a single large holo that blocked most of his office’s side wall. “Here is our side of home galaxy. Note the star bands of Sagittarius-Carina Arm, Orion Arm and Perseus Arm. The Human colony worlds are indicated by bipedal Human images that pulse in infrared, UV and the yellow-orange range.” He paused, adjusting his shell colors to the green, yellow and red of Knowledge Desired. “Each of you is now assigned to visit the Human colony worlds in a respective arm. Upon visiting a Human world, interrogate its civil archive, its planetary governor and make every effort to detect any secret efforts that support this Human renegade.” Sytoon paused, his mouth palps feeling in need of live food. “Each of you has eight or more worlds to visit. Depart on this investigation within the next Belizel day.”

  The black furred Meligun biped grunted a query. “High Commander, which of us goes to which galactic arm?”

  Sytoon settled all six pincer feet into his water basin, telling his hunger to abide for the moment. “Must I direct everything? You three are intelligent analysts. Work out among yourselves who goes to which arm. I expect regular tachlink reports on each planet visited. Depart now so I can eat my daily food allowance in some imitation of quiet!”

  Kontine the worried Loglan, the hairy Meligun and the four-footed Hootnai hurriedly exited his Command Node quarters.

  Sytoon filed away his memory of the brief amusement that had infected this staff session and focused on clear thinking. Capturing the live food that would shortly be deposited into his basin would be adequate recompense for the tedium of conversation with less orderly minds. Even his species co-worker Kontine showed untidy infestation from its years spent among the land dwellers. Not Sytoon. Long ago he had learned how to avoid any weakening of his clear thinking from the emotion-contaminated minds of other species. His leadership of the new Sector 14 Intel base would be flawless. As were all actions undertaken by any Loglan.

  Matt felt the mental shock of exit from Alcubierre Translation stardrive as his ship and the seven others in Hexagon Prime fleet arrived within one AU of the supergiant star Antares A. Its red-orange mass filled the forward holosphere and overwhelmed his ship senses with a tsunami of white neutrino radiation, the redness of infrared emissions and the orange pulse of gravitons from a stellar mass that was 1,700 times the width of Earth’s Sol. By comparison to Earth system, the corona of Antares A reached out to between the orbits of Mars and Jupiter. When you placed seven, two kilometer-long T’Chak starships against such a stellar giant, their gravity wave pulses from Translation exit and their neutrino emissions from fusion power plants wer
e completely absorbed by what Antares A emitted. Which was why his fleet had exited Translation on the side of the star opposite from the current orbital position of planet Working.

  “Mata Hari, has each ship emitted tachlink Remotes, Spy Eyes, Seek-Identify Remotes and sensorBeads?”

  “Yes, Matthew.”

  In his mind the AI deposited a three dee holo of the M-class supergiant star, the nearby B-class giant star of Antares B, and the five planets that orbited Antares A, beginning at the orbital equivalent of Jupiter. Within Antares A space, planet one was a Mercury analogue, planet two a nearly airless Mars-like world, planet three a near duplicate of Venus that was superhot and enveloped in a carbon dioxide atmosphere, while planet four was Working. A world of methane-nitrogen air that was similar in size to Earth, but very early in its planetary evolution. So while it had a few small seas scattered across the world’s volcanic surface, all habitation took place in giant pyramidal towers called skyrises. Each skyrise was a self-contained, oxy-nitro filled city, with underground transit links to other skyrises. Established by the Anarchate a half million years ago, the world had become an industrial factory for the Halicene Conglomerate and other interstellar combines. Hence the presence of a Halicene commerce embassy on the world and the plentitude of Courier ships, Commerce passenger ships, an orbital Commerce Station and four battleglobes on security watch at the L1 and L2 Lagrange points of the rocky world. Beyond Working, at ten AU, orbited a gas giant similar to Saturn, the atmosphere of which provided hydrogen isotope refueling services. All according to the Seventh Inventory of Stars.

  “An impressive system,” said Eliana in their communal mindlink as she and the other six pilots walked into Matt’s grassy green meadow that replicated the Park habitat maintained by Gatekeeper. She wore a black, skin-tight vacsuit similar to what she’d worn when first they’d met at Hagonar Station, more than a year ago. Her smile, though, filled his heart with the memory of their love.

  “A bit of a hot location,” muttered Ben the Australian as he walked closer to the pond where they often sat and talked. He wore brown khaki shorts, a red shirt with loose tails that he’d tied at his waist, and a light brown bush hat that shaded his grey eyes. “The redness reminds me of Uluru.”

  Matt’s puzzlement was picked up by Sarah Vasiliades as she arrived and sat next to darkly tanned Ben. She hugged Ben, then smiled at everyone. “Matt, it’s a place in Australia. Non-natives call it Ayers Rock. A giant sandstone slab that is one of the biggest rocks on old Earth. Very important to Ben’s tribe, the Anangu folks.”

  In short order they were joined by George, his lifemate Suzanne, the yellow-skinned ant form of Toktaleen, and black-mustached Rafael, husband to Sarah’s close friend and fellow Omega Casino refugee, Rebecca.

  Beyond the eight humans sitting cross-legged on the grass, near the small blue pond, stood or hovered the mind images of their AI partners, including Mata Hari, Gatekeeper and BattleMind. As Eliana sat next to him and took his left hand in hers, he felt less stress from not finding his sister Charlotte at the estate of her Meligun owner. Now, it was time to seek after his mother Kristen. Far past time.

  “Folks,” Matt said, giving each mind-image a welcoming hug, smile, wave or nod, “our sensors are speeding ahead of us even as we slow down from a quarter lightspeed. They will soon move beyond the corona of Antares A and thereby give us a normal light image of Working, the gas giant beyond it, and the planet one Mercury analogue. The other planets of this system lie to either side of the star or behind us, on an orbital path that puts this supergiant star between them and Anarchate sensors on Working.”

  Sarah squinted, her expression distracted. “Matt, before we do anything, my Welsh passenger Gareth Davies is getting . . . a bit antsy. Wants to do something. Plus, he seems bothered by me sitting naked in my Interlock Pit as I commune with you folks and with Imperial.”

  Ben frowned. “Sarah, being naked for optical neurolinking with our ships and with everyone here is normal.” The young Aussie reached over and held Sarah’s hand. “I’m willing to take him onboard my ship. Maybe being around another guy will teach him patience until we return to Morrigan.”

  Matt felt a touch of amusement at the growing romance between Ben and Sarah, but none of his pilots needed interference when they were in mindlink. “Sarah, have Imperial confine him to his stateroom. Then flood it with sleep gas. Once we are done here we can rendezvous near Antares B and transfer him to Ben’s ship.”

  In his mind and in the shared mind communion, Mata Hari the Spy, dressed in a late Victorian sheath dress, raised her hand. “People, a report from my Seek-Identify and tachlink remotes. They’ve cleared the corona. Here is an image of what they see about planet Working, and beyond.”

  A holo took shape above the open grass that filled the circle of pilots. Matt saw the system’s various planets, then Working. Ninety-three Supply Tubes, Commerce passenger and Courier ships filled the low orbit space just above a grey-clouded Working. Beyond lay the four Nova-class battleglobes that provided normal security to the system. No sign of any Anarchate fleet or unusual number of offense techs like the Thermonuke sleds and Assault Asteroids that Yorkel had used in his battles with Matt. There was also no sign of a Courier hanging close to the Antares star, ready to induce a nova. Which would make sense given the large population on the planet. Suzanne looked at him through the haze of the holo.

  “Matthew, I precog sense that your solo trip to Working will arrive unnoticed by Anarchate officials,” she said even as Eliana left her own distracted look.

  “Thank you.” He shrugged. “As these two ladies have seen, I plan shortly to head for Working by way of my Dark Energy stardrive. Which will not leave a gravity wave pulse when I exit the parallel universe that one travels through while in Dark Energy mode. And I will be invisible, in stealth mode, thanks to our flat Alcubierre shields.” Matt looked at swarthy skinned Rafael. “My friend, hold onto our ‘surprise’ weapon in case it is needed. The rest of you, please stay in stealth mode on this side of Antares A as I go hunting for my Mom. If I need help, you will hear my call over our tachlink communion.”

  Eliana squeezed his mental hand, her closeness a physical feeling thanks to the months they had spent in mental communion. “Matthew, I do not foresee any danger, in the short term, from your trip to Working. Good luck!”

  Kristen Dragoneaux’s knees felt beyond sore. She felt like she’d crawled ten kilometers, when in reality it was close to a kilometer. Now she faced the vertical shaft that allowed for fiber optic cables, thick power cables and small deliverybot globes to serve the various levels of the skyrise. Far below lay the basement level with its recycle vats and maglev transport that linked this skyrise with neighboring skyrises. She eyed the red spotted darkness below, knowing she could not use a Nullgrav elevator. Those were all monitored by Spy Eye seeds, let alone tracking sensors that interrogated the ID disks which everyone carried. In a high tech world like Working, authority knew where everyone was at any time of the day or night thanks to such automated systems. Except for the few labor slaves like herself, who were not considered important enough to monitor. They were considered pets owned by the owners. Each of whom used a version of a tracking pellet to discourage escape. Well, she had escaped. Now she had to move beyond this skyrise, which would go on automated Seek and Identify mode once her owner found her tracking pellet in the liquid waste recycling vats.

  Kristen reached out and touched one of the wrist-thick power cables that brought up power from the fusion reactors far below. They were insulated due to the free flying delivery bots. Taking a plastic rope from her shoulder bag she looped it around her waist, then made a figure eight loop around the nearest cable. She wedged her laser handgun in the power cable loop to act as a brake, then she stepped off and wrapped her legs around the cable.

  Dropping downward at an increasing speed, she pulled with one hand on the handgun to provide friction while her walk shoes pushed against the cable. Judging by the speed of
on-off-on light glows from access vents for each level, she was dropping at fifteen kilometers an hour.

  In her ear buds she heard the Spelidon rat yell over Masterful’s loud snarling.

  “Well, can you at least show me this unique Human who is so vital to your career?”

  The snarling stopped. A thud sounded as her Mican master fell onto his forelimbs from the back-leg jump position. She watched via the Spy Eye seed as her owner’s two feathery wings pulled tight about its muscular body. He and the Spelidon rat vanished from her neurolinked image as they headed down the habitat hallway. “Yes. She is in this bedroom of my habitat. As you will see—”

  “Where?”

  “Gone!” screeched Masterful in harsh Belizel. “Where could she have gone? She was here moments before your arrival. Her rest platform is there. Clothes are in the closet and on the floor.”

  “You do not watch her with a ceiling monitor?” called the dry tone of the Anarchate rat-being who called himself Medun. “What about the usual tracking pellet? Surely you implanted one in this biped long ago?”

  “Yes!” screeched Masterful. “The monitor eye in the room we were in covers all approaches to the only exit from my habitat. And yes, let me check my datapad for her location.”

  As Kristen slid down to the basement she imagined her griffin-tiger owner looking at its personal datapad, blinking all three purple eyes several times, then snarling with frustration.

  “This shows her location as just below Level One of this skyrise. Perhaps she sought private time with another biped. The data on her species say they are infected by a cycle-round sex drive.”