Running Leader felt surprise that the pilot of the destroyed T’Chak ship had survived his black hole attack. Still, he had no reason to disbelieve her statement in competent Belizel. “It is clear you control my ship and have access to its central Core mind. But the rest of what your . . . male partner says could easily be fabricated with some graphics algorithms. So why should I believe any of what this male, name sigil Dragoneaux, has said?”
Eliana stared at the brown-armored ship captain and reminded herself that this was a very intelligent, very dangerous creature who had commanded dozens of Anarchate battleglobes. It likely used neurolink in its battle conduct. It was natural that, faced with capture by his enemies, he would doubt everything except the obvious. And would also not share with them any datum that might be combat sensitive.
She kept her lips covered, knelt down onto her knees to put her eyes on level with the Dolmat’s purple eyes, and nodded in the double head-jerk that the Compendium of Species said was a sign of friendliness among the herds of Dolmats who still spent part of the year roaming the grassy valleys of their warm world.
“Greetings, Herd Defender,” she said in the most formal Belizel she could recall from her days on Halcyon, when she met all manner of Aliens on her brother’s orbiting Zeus Station. “You succeeded in preserving part of your herd until this last battle. You are not to blame for our ability as predators to stalk you unseen and unheard.” She paused, lifted her hands and clapped them together in the Dolmat herd signal for attention, then crossed her arms under her breasts. It was the Dolmat sign for Ready To Follow. “As for why you should believe the images presented by my herd mate, there is no reason to believe anything we show you. However, Commander Chai of the old Intel Base issued orders to every ship captain to eject an Observer Globe every time a battleglobe entered a star system where it might engage in combat. Will you believe the imagery and data from your own Observer Globe?”
Running Leader croaked with surprise at the Herd-friendly movements of the white-skinned female. A female who, he now noticed, bore a flexible tail that protruded from her body covering. Its use of the Ready To Follow body sign showed some understanding of his species. He would expect opponents like these Humans to know the basics of his species. But to lower herself from her natural posture to his low-to-the-ground level that fit the heavyworld evolution of his species, well that was not in any Compendium he had ever studied.
“Human female, what is you sigil designation?”
“My name sigil is Eliana Antigone Themistocles,” she said in very formal Belizel. “My birth world was Halcyon, in Sigma Puppis B system. My human ancestors reached an agreement with the native, tree-dwelling Direndl that we would join our genomes together to create beings who reflected the best of both species. I am one of them. Sometimes I am referred to as a crossbreed.”
Fascinating. The few instances in galactic history of two species choosing voluntarily to combine their genomes could be numbered in the nails on one of his feet. He nodded to her in the normal double head-jerk of his people. “Human Eliana Antigone Themistocles, of planet Halcyon, your adoption of Dolmat customs for this negotiation is valued.” Running Leader noticed the movements of a holo that depicted a white-covered Human female. “You may signal my Observer Globe to send its tachlink report to this ship using the code—”
“Code HerdMatriarch9432AlphaPrime,” spoke the white-covered female holo.
The Dragoneaux male stepped forward a bit. “Sector Captain Running Leader, this female to my left is the holo persona Mata Hari. She is the herd matriarch for all ships and AIs in my Hexagon Prime fleet. As such, she controls this ship, seeks my help as co-pilot, and has a mind that far surpasses our combined intellects. She knows whatever she needs to know.”
Running Leader began to understand the assemblage of living bipeds and holos of various shapes. They represented family members, or herd mates, of this Dragoneaux biped, while the holos reflected the T’Chak AIs that had proven so deadly in ship-to-ship combat. He gave the white-covered female holo a double head-jerk. “You are correct, AI Mata Hari. However, you do not know the security key phrase that allows your ship’s tachlink receiver to display the encrypted audiovisual and sensor data recorded by the device.”
The two dark oculars of the Mata Hari AI fixed on him with a look that suggested a very hungry predator. “Correct. However, my complink decryption algorithms have never been defeated by the encryptions of any species. Your Observer Globe records will be depicted whether you cooperate or not.”
“Matthew and Running Leader,” called the shorter female to his left, the one with the attractive grey streaks. “While your Mata Hari is an incredible battle ally and AI, this Dolmat has said it is willing to view the battle record recorded by its own device. It would be more efficient to let this ship captain provide the decryption code, would it not?”
Running Leader checked his memory images and realized the female Human who’d spoken was the progenitor of the Humans named Matthew and Charlotte. Which clearly gave her matriarch status within this assemblage. He head-jerked twice to her, then looked to the Dragoneaux patriarch. “What do you wish, Matthew Raven’s-Wing Dragoneaux?”
Matt felt impatience with the extended debate between his people and the Dolmat ship captain. His wishes were that everyone shut up so he could go collapse on his bed platform, with Eliana in his arms. But he had a strong reason for this Bridge deck byplay with a ship captain who had fought him even better than the absent Sector Captain Yorkel. So he cooperated with his Mom, giving thanks that she had chosen to engage with his efforts rather than deny the value of her daughter becoming a cyborg human. Maybe his Mom would enjoy seeing her daughter as pilot of a Dreadnought, once they rendezvoused with Immovable’s cohort fleet in Sector 15. But that was weeks ahead.
“My wish, herd patriarch, is that you apply your decryption code to whatever record your Observer Globe will transmit to us.”
The alien’s purple eyes brightened. As if it felt somewhat in control of its destiny. Which it was. “AI Mata Hari, please signal my Observer Globe to send a tachlink report to this ship. The globe is located five million nipads out from the former gas giant.”
“Sending the signal to your globe,” the Human replica AI said. “Receiving now. Please observe the front holosphere.”
Matt saw the Dolmat’s brown hide shiver with coolness. It made him recall the species was used to year-round seasonal warmth similar to that on Earth, in a place called Serengeti. He stepped closer to Eliana and looked left. The Anarchate icon of the galaxy transfixed by a white lightning bolt appeared in the alcove in front of his Pit.
“Observer Globe 937,421 acknowledges receipt of Code HerdMatriarch9432AlphaPrime. Security key?” asked an artificial voice in Belizel.
Running Leader lifted up his chest, inhaled deeply and howled his Herd Lineage at the holosphere.
Matt winced as a bellowing series of musical tones ripped past his head to the holosphere receiver/emitter. To his right his sister, mother and even Eliana said “Ouch!”, covered their ears or shut their eyes in pain. His mind felt the mental pain of Charlotte and Eliana, even as the mindimages of Mata Hari, Gatekeeper and BattleMind showed no reaction to the Dolmat’s sonic blast.
“An interesting and unique series of sonic tones,” said Mata Hari. She gave the six-legged alien a double head-jerk. “Your assistance with the security key is appreciate. Deciphering that type of encryption would have been . . . lengthy.”
Matt gestured at the holosphere. “Here’s the globe record, beginning with your arrival at the system’s heliopause,” he said for everyone not a Dolmat. “Running Leader, you are in control of what is showing. Skip ahead or stop the display as you wish.”
Running Leader settled down from his Herd Lineage bellow and watched the three dee images and listened to the rapid Belizel spoken by a device with no sense of normal speech.
“Upon activation at the heliopause of system CC4213, this device detected a moving neut
rino source different from the neutrino patterns emitted by the three ships under command of Sector Captain Running Leader.” The holo showed an overhead plan view of the system that showed the two planets in their orbital positions plus the asteroid belt. The view angle was thirty degrees above the system ecliptic but curving down toward the planetary plane as onboard Repulsor power guided the globe toward a position near the gas giant. A purple spot blinked urgently on the far side of the local star, indicating a moving neutrino source that slowly fell out of globe perception as the Observer Globe moved to the gas giant’s orbital location. “Neutrino source matches the emission characteristics of a Courier-class ship of Combat Command.”
“Stop!” he croaked to the report. The audiovisual froze at the point where the neutrino source was disappearing into the neutrino haze of the blue-white star. “Quantum time signature?”
“Anarchate current date of cycle two million, one hundred thousand and six, fourth month of Plenty Season, 93 day cycles, seventh hour, 93 nitas and 7 nitos. Neutrino source—”
“Stop,” he told the brainless record. “Advance to day cycle 96, fourth hour and resume.”
The holosphere proceeded to display exactly what the Dragoneaux biped had told him shortly after his awakening from stasis. The record showed the star’s corona expanding outward rapidly as it engulfed the inner planet, asteroid belt and the gas giant. The icon of the Dedicated expanded into a globe of blue-white gases as the stellar heat melted the ship’s ablative armor and disrupted the magfield control circuits for the ship’s antimatter reservoirs and its six fusion reactors. The plasma gases fled away in front of the stellar wind of the nova blast.
“Stop.” Running Leader sighed, inhaled deeply, then fixed his multi-vision on the biped patriarch who had spent more time in discussion with him than Running Leader had spent in talks with elder Yanakutt. “My ship crew, what is their fate when they awaken?”
“They may take your battleglobe to any star they wish to visit,” said the Dragoneaux biped in passable Belizel.
Feeling relief at the statement even if it puzzled him, Running Leader asked the question he’d long wondered about. “Why are you spending so much of your time to convince me of the validity of your battle report?”
Matt smiled mentally, welcoming in his mind partners. They knew what he was about and why they had all gathered here and spent time arguing with a ship commander who had fought them tooth, nail and spike-tail. He bent forward and gave the Dolmat a double head-jerk.
“Running Leader of Herd Victorious, of the Dolmat Constituency, planet Medallion, I invite you to join my battle for the ending of cloneslavery in the galaxy, and the freeing of bondServants from captive employment with the conglomerates.” He paused as the captain’s elephant-like ears flapped with surprise.
“If you pledge loyalty to me and my fellow ship pilots, promise to not harm civilians outside of combat, and to bring harm only to the bases, shipyards and combat vessels of the Anarchate, you will accepted as a pilot candidate,” Matt said. “Upon completion of training in mind linking with a T’Chak warship, you will join that ship’s AI as a co-pilot and partner in my effort to protect the herd offspring of all species!”
The Dolmat gave a low croak of what Matt knew to be a surprise reaction, according to the Compendium.
Its purple eyes swept over everyone on the Bridge, lingered on the holo of BattleMind, then fixed on Matt. “Strange biped, I am a graduate of the naval academy that your ship destroyed months ago. I have sworn an oath to the naval Combat Command. Other battleglobes have been my ‘herd’ ever since I graduated to the command of my own battleglobe. Why should I join your illegal efforts?”
Matt mindspoke to Eliana. Then he gestured to the front holosphere. “Running Leader, this holo shows my memory of working as a cloneslave decanter at the Flesh Markets on planet Megil, star Alkalurops C. Notice the tiny infants birthed from placental tubes? The transport band is taking them to a room to be mind-imprinted with the engram ‘Obey or Feel Pain’,” he said. “The infants did not ask to be cloneslaves.”
Running Leader stared with shock at the memory holo. The black transport band held a dozen newly birthed infants from eight different species. But what hit him the hardest was the image of the squalling, brown, six-legged infant that this Human Dragoneaux had just decanted from a placental tube.
“That’s a Dolmat infant!” he bellowed in a mix of herd tones and Belizel.
“So it is,” said the Dragoneaux biped, wiping its two brown oculars. “This is a memory shameful to me. But I was determined to survive being an orphan. To survive the kidnapping of my human family by genome harvesters who hit planet Thuringia fifteen years ago. And I was determined to follow a geis promise I made to my first lifepartner. A promise to always help any planet of any species that called a Vigilante for help.”
Running Leader could not break his fixation on the squalling infant. Its vocal tones sought the comfort of the herd. It sought the touch of its birth matriarch. It sought so much that he recalled from his own years as a youth within Herd Victorious. Speaking softly, never leaving the holo image, he gave his answer.
“Yes, I will join your battle against cloneslavery, unstable biped that you are.” His central heart beat fast. Sadness hormones nearly overwhelmed his awareness. His six legs sought to copy the movements of the small Dolmat infant. “I knew of this Trade practice. Like everyone knows that Trade links the planets of the galaxy. But I never . . . I never imagined that cloneslavery would be like this!”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Matt looked down at the pale white face of Eliana as she accepted him into herself. This moment of love was the reward they chose to give each other as they orbited Morrigan. Matt dismissed the mental calendar that blinked with his appointment tomorrow with Governor Airmed O’Davoren. The only woman he wished to be with, now and forever, lay under him. She smiled up at him with jade green eyes and a ‘little girl’ look that had long ago captured his heart. She wrapped her legs atop his buttocks and pushed down, forcing his arousal deeper into her wetness.
“Matthew, let’s make a baby.”
Tears came to his eyes. His heart beat faster than normal, overcoming the cyborg nanobots that tried to keep his biochemistry ‘normal’ despite the flood of arousal hormones. And other hormones. Surely there was a hormone for love.
“Yes!” he cried as pleasure filled every cell of his boy.
Eliana’s deep mind joined with his mind as their mutual ecstasy fed the sensations of each other. Their movements came faster and faster. Their limbs wrapped and held and pulled each other closer. They sought to become one in body just as much as they were one in mindlink.
Love was the way.
They became one in all the ways possible.
Maeve O’Grady looked up at the white, yellow and blue stars that shone down on her Scouting campsite. The stars shone forth from the Carina and Keyhole nebulas in Orion Arm. The place from which her savior Matthew Dragoneaux had come more than a year ago to rescue herself, her Mom Brigida and her brother Brocault from the genome pirate Conand O’Toole. The evil man had raped her and had condemned her Mom and brother to a dark hellhole for storage of goods, a place not suited for the fifteen people he had kidnapped during his raid on the town of Rathfriland. Then Vigilante Matthew had boarded the pirate ship, killed the alien pirates, and smashed down the hatch to the cabin where O’Toole had taken her with a promise of food and water. He was stronger than she was, even at 17. Hoping to bring back food and water for her family, she had walked slowly to his cabin, knowing she would be raped. The Vigilante had sliced O’Toole down to a body with no limbs, then vaporized O’Toole and the ship with a purple plasma cloud. She blinked her eyes, letting the memory tears come forth. She talked to the night sky.
“Mr. Dragoneaux, I want to be a pilot in your fleet,” she said aloud, sending her alto voice out into a highland night of tall trees, whispering winds, flimsy sky clouds and the chitter of groundrunners as they s
ought a meal of red seeds from the Succulent bush. “I am coming to see you tomorrow. On my Mom’s hoverjet. And no one will stop me!”
Looking out from her thermopile sleep bag, Maeve knew her Mom would be upset. Her brother had become eighteen months earlier and had gone off to mining school in the southern continent. She had turned eighteen a week ago. By the traditions of the Tuatha De Danaan people, no woman of age was barred the use of weapons in defense of her family, her home, her village or her nation. Now that her fellow Tuatha occupied the world of Morrigan, that ancient tradition applied to it too.
“Vigilante, I’m a good shot! And I can pilot a hoverjet better than General Balor!”
Her excitement at a future among the stars kept her awake until moonrise.
Airmed O’Davoren stared with surprise at the young blond woman who had just walked past her executive secretary Gerald. His efforts to say Airmed was expecting a visitor shortly did not affect the young woman’s determined stride. The girl looked familiar somehow.
“Governor O’Davoren, I am Maeve O’Grady,” she pronounced as if she were on a parade field. “I want to be a pilot in Vigilante Dragoneaux’s fleet! I owe him my weapons and my allegiance for his rescue of me a year ago, when the slavers hit us.”
Now she recognized the girl. Or young woman since she recalled the lady might now be 18, the age of independent adulthood on their world. “Thank you, Maeve. I recall you from the drinking and dancing party in Lisdoonvarna’s central park. You were very quiet then, though your brother Brocault tried to pull you into a round dance.” She paused, gesturing Maeve to sit on the curving couch that she had shared with Balor and with the Meligun spy. Who thankfully had left their world two weeks ago. “How did you hear of Matthew’s need for pilots?”
Anarchate Vigilante (Vigilante Series 4) Page 30
