Anarchate Vigilante (Vigilante Series 4)

by T. Jackson King

  “Really?” said the imperious voice of Medun. “How strange. No wonder they seek colony planets. Their world must be massively overpopulated.”

  She heard Masterful grunt. “Not under her sleep platform. She must truly be just below Level One. I go to fetch her and teach a lesson about obedience!”

  “But how did she exit your habitat if she was in this room upon my arrival?” Medun said in irritated Belizel as the two of them emerged back into the view of her Spy Eye seed.

  Masterful’s wings flared widely. “It seems I was mistaken over her location. She called me over her datapad saying she was in her room preparing to take a cleansing bath.”

  “Assumptions,” said the black-furred Medun as its shiny tail twisted up to lie over on one shoulder. “They afflict every being.”

  As the two exited the living room of her habitat, Kristen heard Masterful snarl again. “Yes. Like your assumption I would of course sell you a unique possession like this rare biped?”

  Kristen smiled to herself. She had another fifteen minutes for her escape efforts before Masterful learned her tracking pellet now lay in the recycling vats just below Level One. By then she had to be on a supplies maglev and headed for the next skyrise over. It was a place under the control of Melikark Conglomerate, unlike her owner’s skyrise that had been funded by the Halicene Conglomerate. Maybe the Melikark people would refuse to search for her, just to tick off the Halicene merchants. She had heard the Melikark combine was on some kind of Anarchate ‘disapproval’ list for actions that had upset some high official somewhere. She did not care. Every moment took her away from someone who wished to buy her and take her away from this world.

  “Matthew,” she whispered softly. “I’m coming. Somehow, I’m coming.”

  Matt sat in his Interlock Pit, feeling the hugeness of his ship, its millions of components and the strange golden glow of the Dark Energy stardrive given to him by his Bogean allies on their return trip from the Small Magellanic Cloud. The stardrive glow stopped and Mata Hari appeared in his mind, now wearing the chainmail overshirt and leather skirt of her Lady of the Sword persona. The AI’s dark eyes fixed on him.

  “We are in low orbit about Working, at two hundred kilometers elevation,” she said over their neurolink. “Commercial space craft and the Commerce Station are well above us at around a thousand kilometers. I launched two Offense sleds, tachlink Remotes and several nuclear warhead armed KKVs just after our arrival. We are invisible behind our Alcubierre shields. And . . . my monitoring of planetary communications among all emitters has detected mention of a Human labor slave that has gone missing.”

  “Mom?” he thought mentally as, to his right, the giant holo shape of BattleMind took form. The true master of starship Mata Hari fixed his red-eyed attention on the forward holosphere, which depicted a city of fourteen skyrise habitats that occupied a high plateau in the northern continent of the world.

  “Perhaps,” Mata Hari said as she also took holo form on his right. “The emissions are not encrypted. They are in standard Belizel. And there are two speakers, one a Spelidon named Medun and the other a Mican named Masterful. The Mican was listed as the owner of your mother in the slaver base records. And in the Core of Captain Markel’s ship.”

  Why was his Mom on the run? Why try to escape now? Maybe she had seen a galactic tachnet broadcast about him as an enemy of the Anarchate? There was no way she could know he was now just two hundred kilometers above her. Wherever she might be.

  “Mata Hari, send down two Offense Sleds to the skyrise where this conversation is coming from. I’ll use one to find and evacuate my Mom, while the second sled can provide combat cover.”

  “Surely, Matt.” In their shared mind Matt felt and saw the two sleds drop down into the grey clouds of Working, their entry on Nullgrav allowing for a straight down descent. The skyrise that was the source of the radio chatter glowed green against the red of the thirteen other skyrises. Each skyrise showed an ID icon. One of the icons he recognized.

  “Is that icon the one for the Melikark Conglomerate?” he asked Mata Hari, indicating with a mental arrow the suspect icon.

  “Yes,” said Mata Hari as she enlarged the city holo to bring each of the skyrise pyramids into detail view. “It is next to the radio chatter skyrise. The chatter skyrise is owned by Halicene Conglomerate.”

  “Damn!” he muttered, feeling intensely angry at once more having to deal with the ferocity of Micans. His long ago encounter with Legion the griffin-tiger had infected him with a slow virus that dealt him lots of pain until Eliana had precognitively located the virus and killed it with a virus tailored for its ‘jumping gene’ complexity. “Of course, her owner Masterful is a Mican. So it makes sense his habitat would be in the Halicene skyrise.”

  “Just so,” murmured Mata Hari as several of her Spy Eye floaters and Seek-Identify sensors entered the Halicene skyrise. A similar cloud of sensors entered the nearby Melikark skyrise. “We should gain real-time reception of the frustrated sounding talk between these two persons, Matthew. And some of my Spy Eyes can infiltrate the utility conduits that thread through each skyrise. Also, I am sending a limpet complink to each building’s Core computer. The Cores are not self-aware like me and BattleMind, but they are highly diverse. The Cores receive images of all organics, the common spaces, the underground maglev transports, each elevator module, and the name and ownership registry for every habitat in each skyrise. We will find your mother!”

  Matt hoped so. Hanging low in orbit just above the prime industrial city of Working was not a great place to be, even with the advantage of Alcubierre invisibility.

  “Matthew! I’ve located your mother!” Mata Hari said excitedly. “Or at least, a bodyheat form that matches her records.”

  “Show me the sensor image.”

  In his mind the skyrise landscape was replaced by a three dee holo that showed the land underneath the two skyrises and the threads of maglev transport tubes that connected all fourteen skyrises. The one linking the Halicene skyrise with the Melikark skyrise showed a purple dot just where the maglev entered the Melikark basement. Reading his mental wishes, Mata Hari enlarged that point and then gave him an infrared and normal light image of a food supply maglev car that was slowing to an automated distribution zone within the Melikark skyrise. On top of the car lay a two-legged, two-armed humanoid form partly covered by a heat reflective tarp. But his Mom’s head lay outside the infrared covering. Shoulder length hair of red streaked by grey showed. His Mom had always had red hair. Like his sister Charlotte. It was her!

  “Can you get a Spy Eye to her? Gotta talk her to a place where the Offense Sled can pick her up!”

  “Moving toward her. A few moments,” Mata Hari said pensively. “Now! She is in view. Speak to her.”

  Matt swallowed hard, giving thanks he had not stayed in ocean-time computer think mode once they arrived safely at Working. The Spy Eye shone a pale yellow light on the head of his mother, alerting her to its presence.

  “Wha . . . what! Go away you pest!” cried his mother’s tired voice.

  “Mom!” yelled Matt even as he wished he was down there, in Suit, able to take her in his arms and protect her. “It’s Matt. I’m in orbit above you. I’ve sent down a robot rescue sled. Follow this Spy Eye up to ground level and near an outside wall. The sled will cut a way into the skyrise and take you onboard. Then you’ll be with me in orbit in just a few minutes!”

  His mother’s hazel eyes blinked, wetness seemed to gleam in them, then she smiled a huge, happy smile. “Matthew! Oh, I so missed you. And, and, your sister Charlotte is alive! Or was 15 years ago. I’m sorry I could not save your other sisters but—”

  “Mom! Jump off that maglev car now!” he interrupted. “I know about Charlotte. She’s still alive. I know what planet she lives on. We’ll go there next after I and my fleet rescue you. But head up that rampway to your left and get to ground level! Your Mican owner and the Medun giant rat have sent out their own Spy Eyes and tracking Rem
otes into the Halicene skyrise. Some are coming up the maglev tube after you. Move!”

  “Moving,” she said as she threw off the tarp, grabbed a shoulder bag, then jumped down two meters onto an accessway that led to the rampway. His Spy Eye floated ahead, guiding her to the rampway even as another Spy Eye preceded it and the complink latched onto the Melikark skyrise Core computer.

  With control of the skyrise computer, doors and accessways, Matt knew he could block any physical effort by local people to capture his Mom. What he did not control were the tracking and security remotes being sent after his Mom by her owner and the Medun person.

  “Matthew!” cried Mata Hari in his mind’s-eye. “Look! A fleet of battleglobes just appeared! Out near the gas giant!”

  Running Leader blinked as he and his battleglobe fleet re-entered normal space-time in Antares A system. They had chosen to exit Translation in the empty space between planet Working and the gas giant that was the system’s outermost planet. While not close to any world, still, the gravity wave pulses of forty battleglobes would surely set off small earthquakes on Working. With complaints from local officials, no doubt.

  “Sector Captain, tachlink datafeeds from the four battleglobes in Lagrange orbit about Working show the usual traffic,” Malel said from the right of Running Leader’s Command Bench. “Other ship captains are even now confirming they are operational and ready for your orders. Do we make another Alcubierre jump closer to the planet?”

  He eyed the UV and infrared images of the space lying between the gas giant and Working, a distance of ten AU. Running Leader’s fleet had materialized eight AU out from Working. Inward past the fourth planet loomed the huge red ball of the supergiant star that was called Antares A. In truth it should have a name in keeping with its incredible size compared to normal stars elsewhere in home galaxy. Only the supermassive black hole at the center of the galaxy, and a few other stars were larger than Antares A. But the star’s history as a slow irregular variable with changes in its corona due to the star’s helium fusing and few large solar granules in its photosphere, ruled out further disturbances of local space-time.

  “No. We move inward to planet Working on normal deut-li system drive,” he said, changing his vision to the yellow light spectrum so he could see his Bridge crew. “However, Chief Lark, bring your Tactical Cluster post to full power. See that the north and south pole antimatter cannons have an antimatter reserve for four barrages. And Malel, send what I just said to Chief Lark to the captains of each battleglobe. We should be prepared for hostilities at any moment.”

  Chief Lark, a slim black-haired biped with a long scaly tail, looked back at his Command bench. “Sector Captain Running Leader, shall our ships eject tachRemotes, plasma torps, Thermonuke sleds, and our internal stores of antimatter-laden Supply Tubes and Assault Asteroids?”

  “Of course!” croaked Running Leader, feeling irritated by the question. “Treat this system as if it were controlled by hostile forces! I thought you knew better from your battles under Sector Captain Yorkel!”

  Lark flared his Whiskers of Distinction in the sign of Willing Obedience and turned back to his Tactical Cluster post. To either side, at the NavCore post, the Ecofield post, the EMF Shields post and a dozen other work stations, his Bridge crew focused on their jobs.

  Running Leader settled down on his Command bench, prepared to respond to the predictable complaints from conglomerate leaders. They would claim the minor quakes from the graviton pulses that always happened whenever any starship exited Translation were about the topple over their skyrises. Silly commerce beings! They might be experts in making money, co-opting local species leaders and discovering options for increased taxes and fees, but they knew nothing about a herd of starships running through the stellar grasslands.

  Matt bit his lip at the fleet arrival news, then forced his emotions about his Mom to evaporate. What was needed here was clear thinking. Good tactics. An overall strategy. And fast decision making.

  “Mata Hari,” he called to his mind partner. “Put us on Combat Alert. Eject half the tachRemotes you have on a trajectory toward the newly arrived battleglobes. Mix in with them the normal ratio of sensorBeads, holo Decoys of this ship, nanoRemotes, white noise Defense sleds, plasma Torps, and attackBeads. Send off an Offense Sled toward each of the four battleglobes at the planet’s two Lagrange points. And do your best to track any talk chatter between this fleet and commercial people on Working. They are bound to say something that is not encrypted.”

  BattleMind’s giant dragon form took holo shape to Matt’s right. Its scaly crocodile-like mouth opened. A long pink tongue slithered over white triangular teeth. “Promise me that we will not run away from these tasty battleglobes, little organic.”

  Matt grimaced mentally but held that in the background as his ship’s two AIs began diversifying their attention modalities to a zone much broader than the local planet Working. “You will have a meal, my ally BattleMind. If the new fleet continues its slow approach on deut-li system drive, they will not arrive here for another hour. When they do arrive and get within the range of our FTL tachRemotes and similar sensors, one or more ships of our fleet will engage them.”

  “Matthew?” called Eliana and Suzanne simultaneously, their expressions showing concern. “We learned of this new fleet at the same time your ship detected their gravity pulses. We’ve looked ahead precog for the next hour and do not see any active fighting within range of this planet. But longer than that timeline, things become confused, violent and with a sense of danger for the fleet.”

  Matt knew the eight ships of Hexagon Prime fleet could probably destroy this new Anarchate fleet. But who was leading it? Was there a successor fleet captain to Yorkel? Was there coordination with whomever now led the new Intel Base in Sagittarius Arm? And what new tactics and weapons might this fleet commander employ, like the Nova weapon they’d encountered at the Dumbbell Nebula? He made a fast decision.

  “Eliana and the rest of Hexagon Prime, hold station where you are,” Matt thought-imaged over their mind communion. “My Offense Sled is close to picking up my Mom. Once she is on board, I will become briefly visible, attack one or more battleglobes, then we all will Translate out to Antares B star, which has no planets. Our arrival there will cause this fleet commander to come after us, once he has reclaimed any Thermonuke sleds and similar weapons that he launched upon arrival.” Matt gave them all an upbeat smile. “That gives us time in the Antares B system to seed the space around our arrival point with tachRemotes and combat sensors so that when this fleet comes chasing us, we will have the advantage in use of lightspeed weaponry. When the battleglobes close on us, we can use Stepwise Translation to avoid attacks by Assault Asteroids and Supply Tubes stuffed with antimatter.”

  BattleMind growled low at the thought of destruction delayed, but Mata Hari, who’d slid her mind between Matt’s mind and that of the T’Chak dragon, spoke her agreement.

  “Good tactics. Good strategy, Matthew, to make this fleet come after us, versus us having to fight in a system friendly to them,” Mata Hari said.

  Suzanne and Eliana, with the other fleet pilots on the mental horizon, also nodded agreement. “Will do, Matthew. Let us know when we should all Translate out to Antares B.”

  “Agreed,” Matt said even as his primary mental attention followed Mata Hari’s sleds through the wind-whipped plateau on which the skyrises were located. Already his first Offense sled hovered outside the metal skin of the Melikark skyrise, preparing to cut an exit hole for his Mom. With use of pressor beams to hold the skyrise air inside, the sled could grab her with a tractor beam and pull her inside the sled’s habitat cabin. Then it could shoot skyward to rendezvous with Mata Hari. Any craft that sought to interfere would be destroyed by the second Offense Sled that even now circled the cluster of skyrises.

  “Ohhhh, how nice it would be to destroy that Halicene skyrise,” mused Matt in real-time voice.

  BattleMind slashed his long spiketail against the floor
of Matt’s Bridge, adding mental sound as if the gravplates of the Bridge had actually been struck. “Yes! Finally you hunger for the depth of destruction that I was created for!”

  Kristen arrived at ground level, noticing several hundred Aliens of various species in the distance, near the Central Welcome area. She instead followed Matt’s Spy Eye as it turned down a service hallway that followed the outer wall. The floating device stopped before an airlock that gave external access to automated sleds for maintenance and outside repairs. No person or floating sensorbot was to be seen.

  “Mom,” said Matt over the Spy Eye. “Stand back ten meters from the airlock. My sled will burn a hole in it, then send in a Nullgrav platform. Get on the platform, hold tight, and the sled will pull you out using its tractor beam.”

  “Sure, Matthew. Is your sister living on Megil? Someplace else? Or maybe—”

  “Mom!” yelled her son in a stressed tone. “I’ve got an Anarchate fleet breathing down my back! Just get on the platform and hold on until you’re inside the Offense sled. Strap yourself in, even though its inertial fields should protect you from its fast escape maneuvers. And yes, Charlotte has been living on Megil. She will be back there soon. More later on!”

  The airlock grew red, then yellow, then white before it vaporized with a loud “Blam!” Looking down the hallway she’d taken to get here, Kristen jumped onto the platform and buried her head in the bulk of her shoulder bag. Any nasty methane air would be filtered by the bag’s cloth. She hoped. Anyway, she was certain Matt’s robot creatures would not let her suffocate during their rescue of her. Under her the Nullgrav platform trembled, then moved quickly, judging by the whipping of air through her hair.

  “Mother Kristen,” said a feminine voice. “You are safe inside our Offense sled. I am Mata Hari, the human-mode AI of your Matthew’s combat starship.”