Anarchate Vigilante (Vigilante Series 4)

by T. Jackson King

  Kristen looked up to see a thirty-something young woman with long black hair tied in braids that were corded atop her head, a narrow face, black eyes with an intense look, a pearl broach at her neck, all dressed in a late Victorian style frilly white dress. She sat up.

  “You are Mata Hari? Uh, but aren’t you on Matt’s spaceship?”

  “Yes,” the slim woman said, then pointed to one of the five accel-couches that filled the habitat area of the sled. “Please take a seat there. Quickly. This sled needs to be out of her very soon, with you taken onboard our ship. There is a fleet of Anarchate battleglobes heading our way, and your Matthew does not wish to fight them within this star system.”

  Kristen jumped off the platform, stumbled over to the accel-couch, sat back, felt an inertial field come on, then dragged her shoulder bag to her chest. She eyed the amber-skinned woman.

  “Uh, are you a robot then?”

  Mata Hari smiled with amusement. A very human normal smile. As was her voice. “No, mother of Matthew. I am a self-aware AI who is Matt’s battlemate, cooperator in his crusade to eliminate cloneslavery from the galaxy, and mutual conspirator in recruiting other organics to work as pilots for our battle fleet. What you see of me, well, that is a hologram.”

  Hologram? Kristen could swear the woman standing in the aisle just a meter from her was solid. She reached out to touch the woman’s left arm. Her fingers passed through the arm. “Oh! Uh, sorry for that. You just look so real that I—”

  Mata Hari looked upward, then back to her. “We are boosting for orbit and our ship. No one is chasing us. Yet. And my ‘real’ appearance is the result of seven years working with Matt as a partner in his Vigilante-for-Hire career. Within our ship, my holo will be much more solid, thanks to miniature tractor beads.”

  Kristen sensed the patience of the AI woman. Who had known Matt for half the years she had known him, until the day of the raid by genome harvesters on their farm. There was much this AI woman knew about Matt. But what did she need to know?

  “Mata Hari, thank you for being here to reassure me. And thank you for answering my questions. Guess the most important question I need to ask is—in your opinion, what should I know about my Matthew?”

  Mata Hari’s black eyes looked intently at Kristen. “Many things, after fifteen years of absence. Being a mother, you should know that your Matthew has a lifemate. Her name is Eliana Antigone Themistocles. She is a Human-Direndl hybrid. She looks just like you, except she has a prehensile tail. Oh, she loves your son very much, and Eliana hopes to have children with your Matt, someday.”

  Kristen blinked her eyes. She did not fight the emotions she was feeling. For once, in fifteen years, it was safe to feel her feelings. For now, she did not have to worry about being sold to some Alien. Or beaten. Or treated like a human dustmop.

  “Thank you. Thank you more than you can know.” She swallowed hard. “How soon will I see Matt?”

  Mata Hari looked upward again. “In two minutes. Until then, drink water from the bottle in your shoulder bag. And keep feeling happy. Matthew thought you and Charlotte were dead. Then recently we attacked a cloneslaver base, captured some memory Cores and discovered you two had survived the trip to the Flesh Markets of Alkalurops. From my mindtouch with his mind, he is beyond eager to see you. Alive. And smiling.”

  Kristen sniffled, then smiled. It had been a long time since she had last smiled. “I’m eager too. Thank you for rescuing me.”

  “You are welcome, mother of Matthew.”

  “Call me Kristen. That is what my children and . . . my farm neighbors used to call me.”

  “Thank you, Kristen.” Mata Hari the holo AI who was dressed like someone from two centuries ago, smiled slowly. “I know about smiles. Matthew has taught me their meaning. More importantly, he has shown me how to feel . . . emotions. I and my own lifepartner, the AI Gatekeeper, are the first of a new breed of AIs. You see, not only do we mindshare with our human partners via tachlink implants, but we share our . . . feelings with our humans. To the benefit of us both.”

  “I’m glad for you Mata Hari,” she said, wondering just what feelings an emotional AI might have. Well, there was time to learn that later on.

  Kristen closed her eyes and took a moment of rest. Her son was safe. She was safe. Her daughter would soon be safe. And the tyranny of cloneslavery that had killed her husband Benoit and three of their daughters, that tyranny was on track to being defeated. She knew cloneslavery would die, with Matt fighting it.

  Even as a young man, Matt had never given up. And now that he had a fleet of starships, the rest of the galaxy would soon know just how determined her Matthew could be when he set his mind to doing what he knew to be just and right.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Matt stood dressed in his Japanese yukata robe as his Mom walked through the red-bordered pressure lock from the Spine hallway. She was accompanied by the Spy holo of Mata Hari. His Mom looked . . . tired, weathered, with grey strands in her shoulder length red hair, but her high-cheeked face was filled with a giant smile.

  “Matthew!” she cried, rushing toward him with arms outstretched.

  “Mom!”

  Her body impacted against his chest. Wrapping his arms around her, he kissed her hair, then whispered in her ear. “I thought I would never see you again. Thought you were dead!”

  His Mom leaned back a little to look up at his face, her hazel eyes fixing on his. Tears that gleamed like diamonds filled her gaze. “Me too! I thought I would be a labor slave forever. Even though I planned for this escape, bought tech stuff, had my shoulder bag ready to go, still . . . oh Matthew!” She buried her face against his chest.

  Matt looked beyond her to where Mata Hari stood in the back of the Bridge, just in front of his other ally Suit. He gave the solemn-faced AI a happy smile. “Thank you! Thank you Mata Hari for rescuing my Mom and giving me this gift of joy.”

  Mata Hari walked toward him, her narrow face moving into a shy smile. “I’m glad, Matthew. And I feel . . . what I sense from your mind. This joy. These emotions of you and your fellow humans are a sensation . . . a sensation I never thought to experience. Seven years ago, when I rescued your Suspense pod, I just needed an organic ally for Vigilante work. Now, well, I am learning the meaning of words like friendship, family, love and joy. And the meaning of having children. My thanks to you!”

  His Mom looked up abruptly as she felt Mata Hari’s holo hand touch her shoulder. She wiped her eyes with one hand, held him with the other and glanced from him to Mata Hari, her look bemused. “So you do feel real when inside this ship, young Mata Hari. Your touch, I am feeling it!”

  Mata Hari smiled at his Mom, then handed her the shoulder bag she’d dropped upon entering the Bridge. “Yes, and I feel you. Kristen. Mother of my mindpartner Matthew. I feel that you will enjoy our Park habitat, later on.” Mata Hari gestured to the accel-couch usually occupied by Eliana. “But for now, we will shortly enter battle against Anarchate forces. Already the battleglobe on this side of Working is moving inward from its Lagrange parking orbit. Probably due to a call from your former owner who, my Spy Eyes report, has discovered the exit hole we put in the wall of Melikark Conglomerate. This Masterful being has stopped accusing the Melikark skyrise people of intentionally hiding you. It now believes a third party helped you escape. Which we did.”

  Matt looked down at his Mom. “She’s right. I’ve got a fight to fight, a fleet to guide and seven other pilots to lead into combat. But later, while in Translation, I will take you to our Park and show you images of Charlotte. She is a beautiful young woman. She has your Apache cheekbones and our Polynesian red skin!”

  His mother left his embrace slowly, lingering, as if the touch of him after fifteen years might prove an illusion. Then a stern look filled her face, showing a determination he knew well. “Go, my Matthew. Go. Do your piloting and fighting and whatever else you need to do to lead your friends. This crusade of yours will not fail. Even when you were just sixteen, you alway
s got done whatever you set out to do. I’m just thankful to be alive and be here as you teach the Anarchate a lesson about kidnapping real people to serve as slaves!”

  Matt nodded to her. “Thanks Mom. Uh, part of what is different about me involves being a pilot with Mata Hari the AI, and with this starship. I accepted cyborg modifications which are mostly internal. To fight at computer speeds, I need to think at computer speeds. Which is why you will see a fiber optic cable plug into the back of my neck. And why I need to be naked to accept optical neurolinking laser beams. You will see much on the forward holosphere, but do not talk to me. Please. I cannot think mentally at your speed of thought when I am in ocean-time neurolink.” Offering her a son-to-Mom smile, he dropped the yukata robe, turned and stepped down into the Interlock Pit. The lightspeed cable socketed into his neck.

  Ocean-time filled Matt’s mind as femtoseconds fled past faster than he could touch them, while picoseconds moved along hurriedly, nanoseconds sped by and milliseconds walked along slowly. In his mind he felt the mindtouch of Mata Hari, BattleMind and the other pilots and AIs of Hexagon Prime fleet. His pale-skinned lifemate Eliana looked at him.

  “Matthew, I’m soooo happy for you!”

  “Thank you my love,” he said, splitting his mind into dozens of segments so he could give a smile and wave to each of his fleet pilots. The segments allowed him to link into each ship’s AI, accept the dozens of tachlink reports from the tachRemotes he had seeded outward upon arrival, accept inward the multi-spectral datafeeds in frequencies ranging from x-ray to far infrared, and build a mental map of every moving neutrino source in nearby space. Blinking mentally, he expanded his attention to monitor the unencrypted radio and tachlink broadcasts from planet Working and from the incoming fleet, feel the plasma stability within each fusion power plant of his starship, track the readiness of the T’Chak superweapons Sun Glow, Graviton Beamer, Axial Plasma Funnel, and to sense the six nodes that even now projected flat Alcubierre space-time shields to protect him and the ship from all matter and energy weapons.

  Four hundred thirty-four milliseconds, 98 nanoseconds, 23 picoseconds and 712 femtoseconds, said his onboard cyberclock.

  Matt focused on his fleet pilots. “My partners, leave me to take out the four battleglobes on either side of this planet. Then I will join you at Antares B. And Rafael, on the way to Antares B, drop back into local space near Working and toss out our own ‘surprise’. Will be interesting to see how the new fleet captain reacts to threats in two places at the same time.”

  Rafael, father of four young kids whom Matt had grown to enjoy being a ‘robot uncle’ to when dressed in his Suit, gave him a half smile, then nodded, his expression intent. “Will do, Matthew. Though I cannot but worry whether this new Anarchate captain will have some surprises of its own for us.”

  “He does,” Suzanne said from their mind communion circle. “I precog sense he will hit us with some kind of surprise during our future battle at Antares B. The star will stay intact though. Making it go nova would kill everyone on Working. And he is a Dolmat used to being part of a herd.”

  Matt focused most of his attention on the two Nova-class battleglobes that held station at the L2 spot on the night side of Working, just above him. The other two battleglobes at L1 on the daylight side of the planet were still in place. One battleglobe on their darkside already moved downward.

  “Mata Hari, send three thermonuke-armed KKVs around the planet to attack the battleglobes on the daylight side. Should irritate them enough that they come to our side of the world.” In one segment of his mind he monitored Mata Hari’s order to the simple Core minds on the KKVs. The order activated the three megaton thermonuke warhead, telling it to explode either upon contact or arrival within a kilometer of the target. “Move our tachRemotes further outward toward the fleet’s incoming vector. And when any battleglobe arrives within 100,000 kilometers of us, fire one or more antimatter cannons at the globe. I wish to make our combat presence here brief. Just long enough to take out all or most of the battleglobes on local security watch.”

  “Complying, Matthew,” she said in his mind as her holo stood to his left, clearly visible to his Mom who lay under inertial field protection.

  “Mom,” he quick thought, “to my right will appear a giant twelve foot dragon with black wings, sharp teeth and a spike-tail that is a thing of beauty. He is BattleMind, the original AI of this ship. Don’t worry about him. He is my other battle partner.”

  Mata Hari slid her mind in between his mind and the billowing hurricane that was the thought gale of BattleMind as the T’Chak AI took form to Matt’s right.

  “So we begin tasting our enemies, small fighter?” it growled loudly.

  “Yes,” Matt said, laying out his plan of action for the next few seconds for Mata Hari and BattleMind to sense and understand. “And BattleMind, would you vaporize that Halicene skyrise for me? There are too many Micans in the universe!”

  Six hundred milliseconds, 134 nanoseconds, 97 picoseconds and 63 femtoseconds, said his cyberclock.

  “Yes!” the purple dragon roared.

  “Attack now!” he yelled as directed energy weapons domes popped up on his dragon spine, the ship’s dragon mouth opened to emit a purple plasma cloud and the long tail of the dragon ship spat deut-li fusion flames as it maneuvered to aim its cannon wings toward the two nightside battleglobes.

  “Attacking!” cried Mata Hari, her persona now the Lady of the Sword as she pointed a red-glowing sword at the nearby Commerce Station.

  Three pink proton beams slashed across space at lightspeed, impacting on the Commerce Station’s central globe and the fusion plants within. A series of yellow-orange explosions began to rip apart the orbital station.

  His left dragon wing’s antimatter cannons spat out three coherent neutron antimatter beams toward the incoming battleglobe, which now lay just 80,000 kilometers from them. The blue-white incandescence of pure matter-to-energy conversion glared more brightly than any O-class star.

  Mata Hari’s spinal domes fired dozens of neutral particle, free electron, carbon dioxide, hydrogen-fluoride and excimer laser beams at the scores of small sensor bots that shared the same orbit as the Commerce Station and visiting starships. The loss to the battleglobes of local tachRemotes would be a bother, but not a problem since all combat ships were close enough for lightspeed lag time to not affect targeting by either side.

  “Incoming,” said Mata Hari even as she moved them outward toward the second battleglobe.

  The purple of incoming X-rays from Picket Globes struck against the Alcubierre shields erected long ago by Mata Hari. The x-rays were Translated to Elsewhere-Elsewhen by the same field that moved starships across the galaxy. It was a unique defense shield that only the ancient T’Chak possessed. It had been vital to their fleet battles against the Anarchate. Still, it was not perfect, as Matt knew from their ship losses to 30 megaton Thermonuke sleds, antimatter-filled Supply Tubes and Assault Asteroids that Translated directly into the normal space-time occupied by his ships as they sheltered behind the Alcubierre shield. The Anarchate had become creative in seeking ways to hurt him and his ships. Even though his total fleet amounted to 502 ships scattered across the Milky Way, that was small compared to the 11,000 plus battleglobes possessed by the Anarchate.

  One second, 607 milliseconds, 23 nanoseconds, 14 picoseconds and 22 femtoseconds.

  “Fire at the second battleglobe!” ordered Matt, glad that for once he could destroy an enemy without fearing for his mother and sister.

  Running Leader shivered with the mental impact of the blue-white total matter-to-energy conversion explosions that his neurolink with the local tachRemotes showed him. The two security battleglobes had died from triple antimatter beams emitted from a spot on the night side of planet Working. Various laser beams slashed sideways to destroy the orbiting Commerce Station, while on the daylight side of Working, three KKVs attacked the two guardian battleglobes at the L1 Lagrange spot. Two of the KKVs impacted on
one battleglobe, their small thermonuclear explosions biting holes in the 300 meter thick armor of the battleglobe. Simultaneous with the neurolink images came a time-delayed radio broadcast from the Halicene skyrise claiming an attack by an Offense Sled belonging to someone unknown. His herd protection instinct flared high.

  “Hostiles infest this system!” he bellowed to the Bridge crew who now saw in the forward holospheres what he had mind-sensed thanks to being in combat neurolink. The neurolink disks attached to his brain bulge were not as fast as having his nerves connected to the lightspeed photons of the image, but they were fast enough for him.

  Malel, his heavy world compatriot, hooted his anger. “Sector Captain! Translation inward, yes?”

  Running Leader thought quickly. As a herd leader should do when faced with surprise predator attacks. “Send two of our fleet inward on Translation. The rest of us will stay on vector for the planet. We must be prepared for attacks elsewhere in this system! Patience!”

  The station posts of his Bridge crew became busy as tachlink signals were sent to each battleglobe captain. Malel, like a good executive officer, selected the two battleglobes to Translate inward. He liked that about Malel. The armor-hide Orko understood about herd protection while also preserving the force of stampeding in order to smash down any new group of predators.

  Chief Lark called from his Tactical Cluster post. “The sleds and Remotes we have ejected. Should we reclaim them so they are not lost if we Translate out?”

  “Reclaim them!” Running Leader said, knowing that shuttles from each battleglobe, aided by tractor beams, would take long minutes to recover the complex Remotes his fleet had seeded about them. But the probability of action somewhere else had now become a near certainty. They could spare some moments to recover weaponry that would be needed in the near future.

  Matt felt starship Mata Hari rise up, away from the system’s ecliptic plane, so he would be in firing position before the daylight battleglobes rounded the planet’s bulge to the night side. He smiled, enjoying how well Mata Hari saw his intentions and translated them into ship action without him having to say a mental command. This was true neurolinking! Two minds thinking and acting as one!