Moving Earth
Page 109
Maybe news of this setback had already reached Sonny from other sources. Maxus sure as hell wasn’t going to last long enough to get the word out, so he could only hope. Possibly Sonny had regained his footing already, playing his unending game of move-countermove with Leon.
In the next moment, he realized the real threat against Sonny. Neutralizing the Klash—an already unthinkable thing was the least of it. Now, with Maxus on Leon’s side—and who knew how many other Shadow Warriors within reach of these Origine moon world cloned psychic projectors now in Leon’s employ—Leon would have spies in Sonny’s ranks. Spies who could serve as double, triple agents, and slowly integrate Sonny’s spy network into Leon’s fighting forces.
Sonny in the role of hired help? Maxus didn’t think so. If anything would cause Sonny to decentralize his control it would be knowing that it was the only way now to thwart damaging intel from reaching Leon before he wanted it to.
ONE HUNDRED THIRTY-TWO
INSIDE THE MIND OF THE MARS WAR GOD ABOARD THE NAUTILUS
Leon’s strategy had worked. His brain trust of Solo and his various colored Umbrage, Natty, Laney, and the rest of the Nautilus crew had managed to squelch an all-out Menagerie assault.
Well, mostly.
The Mars war gods on the Nautilus and on Schopenhauer’s private planet continued to monitor the retreat of enemy forces from the Gypsy Galaxy. Numerous soon-to-be-permanently allied-with-The-Gypsy-Galaxy galactic empires were still heavily under the influence of both The Collectors and the Raj of the Mirage planet. The dual influences of positive and negative voices in their heads were driving much of the crews on the spaceships mad.
The Mars war gods quickly hacked the starships of the Gypsy Galaxy’s retreating allies to ensure that in their panicked state they did not fire upon one another, weakening the coalition forces.
The Mars war gods also hacked the Menagerie ships that were not part of the coalition, refocusing their firing mechanisms at one another every time they tried to take a shot at coalition ships.
No one was in any state of mind to even recognize they’d been hacked, far less do anything about it.
All The Collectors would gain now by persisting with their attempts to psychically influence all parties was increased destruction of the mechanisms of war which Menagerie empires used against one another, thus reducing The Collectors’ own energy source: the feeding off of eternal warfare. Gypsy Galaxy allies would not be depleted in such a manner, just the forces remaining behind after the prison break.
What little wriggle room that had been left The Collectors after Leon and his people were done with them, the Mars war gods had just eliminated.
Anything now but complete surrender could only spell death to The Collectors.
ONE HUNDRED THIRTY-THREE
THE COLLECTORS’ MOON WORLD
Leon was within minutes of his much desired prison break. Farsi, the most powerful of all the Cream Umbrage had succeeded in her mission to cripple Sonny’s rebellion, by winning over his most powerful co-conspirators.
Blaxus knew his people had to make their final play, and fast.
The Collectors changed the dish array across the moon world, refocusing their satellite antennae they were born with instead to the weakest minds and the weakest armadas in the Menagerie. They had to get a lock on them before their fleets finished retreating from the Gypsy Galaxy.
Within seconds the pull back of the pawns on the chessboard, and a handful of knights and bishops, had been halted.
The armadas were turning to engage instead of standing down, resuming their attack on Leon’s assets.
In mid-sigh, Blaxus and Onyxi, his female alter ego, felt the gut-wrenching punches to their stomachs.
Leon, mind-synced with the Raj, ordered an increase in the spike of feel-good energy being emitted from Mirage across the Gypsy Galaxy. The Raj could not sustain this; they would surely die. But neither could The Collectors sustain their last gasp effort to reassert their authority.
In the end, the Raj outlasted them, perhaps because Leon had strategically underutilized this asset until it was absolutely necessary. Just as ironically, perhaps he’d done it out of his respect for life and his unwillingness to coopt pacifists into military affairs which rightfully should not concern the Raj. And The Collectors, who could never resist the compulsion to meddle, had been running their energy-depleting marathon for far too long.
Wherever the mistakes were made, it was over.
The Collectors had lost.
ONE HUNDRED THIRTY-FOUR
ABOARD THE NAUTILUS
“It’s over, Leon.” Mother’s disembodied voice, at once everywhere and nowhere, came at Leon like a welcomed breeze. “The invading fleets still able to retreat are doing so. The others are decimated. The invading galactic alliance, as well as our unaligned galactic foes, are standing down, waiting for The Collectors to settle this one way or the other.”
The news had come before Crumley and Leon could make it too far beyond Solo’s doors back into the hall. But Singularity Time had a way of sneaking up on you real fast.
“How long before…?” Leon asked.
“They’re coming, Leon, the guardians at the gate, pouring out of the Lagrange nodal points.”
“How many?”
“Only a dozen,” Mother replied.
Crumley glared at Leon. “Look what we did with just one Peacekeeper.”
“How big are these ships, Mother? Best guess as to what technology we’re up against?”
“They look like second-generation Peacekeepers. With their engines on idle, they move through space-time at the speed of light and disturb the fabric of space on par with cannonballing yellow suns.”
“Ask her if that’s good,” Crumley said acidly. “About our ‘never surrender’ motto, I say we change it to ‘miracles happen’ while there’s still time. Maybe with enough of us chanting it at once…”
Leon groaned, rubbing his forehead.
“Mother, what are the second-generation Peacekeepers doing?” Crumley asked.
“Nothing.”
“Nothing!” Crumley balked.
“They don’t have to do anything,” Leon explained. “If we can’t do any damage to them…”
Crumley was putting the pieces together for himself. “Then our prison break fails before it gets started.”
“Most of the empires in the Menagerie already see The Collectors as gods, and unassailable. So long as we could keep the legend of Leon DiSanti going, one who was every bit as godlike and unassailable in battle…” Leon sighed.
“So, it’s back to hostilities as usual between galaxies within the Menagerie,” Crumley said, running with the idea. “They’ll find ways to nip at our heels until they provoke us, dragging us down with them. And The Collectors can return to their old game of standing back and doing as little as possible, just feeding off of the animosities between member galaxies.”
“And if we play the game on the Menagerie’s terms, invading member galaxies to ensure a cessation of hostilities…”
“We’ll eventually deplete ourselves to where we are vulnerable.” Crumley’s voice sounded as if he was shouldering a satchel of bricks.
“And if we could somehow manage to keep everyone in check, The Collectors will find other prisoners to incarcerate until the delicate balance is lost,” Leon explained.
“They’re not stupid.”
“Master manipulators seldom are.” Leon realized his tone could use a little lightening as well.
“What then?”
“I want one of those second-generation peacekeepers.”
“Yeah, right,” Crumley said. “Who you gonna get to help you with that one?”
“I might have some ideas,” Mother said.
Leon and Crumley were surprised she was still listening.
“That’s all we need is to risk the Nautilus by putting it in harm’s way,” Crumley blurted. “We’re better off surrendering, living to fight another day.”
***
ABOARD THE UFO
“Techa, look at that thing.” Leon had his face pressed to the viewport to try and take it all in. “No doubt that’s a second generation peacekeeper, all right. Looks too much like the big brother.”
“I know what you’re thinking, and forget it,” Cassandra said. “We couldn’t possibly get near that ship. See that gravity ripple? The fact that you can see it at all means that Peacekeeper is displacing space-time like a sun cast in the part of the billiard ball rolling across one very big pool table.”
“And yet the other planets are not falling toward it. Optical illusion?”
“We don’t know that, Leon. It’s got technology we can’t possibly comprehend. When the first generation peacekeeper sent out an EMP pulse to take out the Kang dragon ships, it magically passed over several stage zero civilizations without harming the tech on their planets. Technically, an impossible feat. Toying with basic physics is child’s play for gods, and for civilizations so advanced they may as well be gods.”
“Let’s take a closer look, shall we?”
Cassandra’s eyes were afire as she craned toward him. “This fragile peace between us hinges on you not being a total idiot. We’ll be sucked in and crushed, if we don’t burn out in the corona of that ship’s energy shield.”
“Not if your nanites coat this ship so it mimics the frequency of that energy shield. Peacekeeper shields are selective, remember?”
She pinched her eyebrows. “And if we make it to the other side? The Peacekeepers have any number of things that can take us out without harming itself.”
“We’ll be off the ship by then, coated in another type of nanites, courtesy of you, one that will make us invisible to their scanners. Just make sure they’re battle-hardened enough in case we’re still too close to the UFO when it blows.”
“And, assuming I can do all that, what then? How do you plan on getting us home? Swim through space-time like a damn fish?”
“We’re going to board the Peacekeeper and take her over, of course.”
“I’m a superweapon built in another age, Leon. I doubt anyone or anything on a 2nd generation Peacekeeper would be too impressed.”
“Don’t sell yourself short. Besides, I don’t think there is anyone aboard that thing. The Collectors are cowards. Why else hide outside of space-time where we can’t get to them. They’re not about to break from habit now. I’m betting this Peacekeeper is a constellation of supersentiences, each one unhackable, and in charge of another part of the ship. That way…”
“It’s impervious even to far superior AIs. That way it gives itself enough time to either destroy their enemy, or, barring that, get the hell out of Dodge before the hack of the entire ship is complete. But…”
“It would have to be one very egalitarian constellation of AI souls to share power like that, to operate independently and yet trust each other enough to do their jobs.”
She snorted. “Just the perfect ship for a free-thinking society like us.”
Leon smiled. “Built by a consortium of paranoid tyrants. You gotta love the irony.”
“We should get Mother involved if that’s the case.”
“I’m thinking she’s several steps ahead of us as usual. So long as she can anticipate our approach at a specific section of the ship, she’ll be working on shutting down the AI in that area to buy us some time.”
“You’re hoping she’s advanced enough to do that, unlikely in my estimation. And she no longer has the other Nautili to link with to enhance her mind power.”
“What would life be without these little David and Goliath scenarios we both live for?”
Cassandra snorted. She put her hands up to the ceiling and started bleeding her nanomorphs into the hull of the ship to blind the Peacekeeper’s energy shields to it. The whole time they’d been talking she’d been multitasking the morphing of her nanites to satisfy Leon’s requests.
Let’s hope she’d had time to supplement his strategy with additional tactics he didn’t have time for up in his head. He couldn’t fake singularity state for short bursts like she could, thinking at the speed of light, and sending her morphing instructions to her nanite DNA at the same speed.
ONE HUNDRED THIRTY-FIVE
ABOARD THE LUCKY STREAK
“Sonny.” The man addressing him went by the name of Faceless. He used to go by the name of Falstaff. Sonny didn’t question his loyalty after paying the steepest price for failure—having his face ripped off. Now that he looked like even more of a freak, he could go places and be accepted where he otherwise might not. He was an even more valuable Shadow Warrior.
“What?” Sonny was impatient at having his nerve-calming game of pool interrupted.
“The Collectors’ endgame has begun.”
Sonny dropped the cue stick on the table. “So, my little coup has failed. Peace in the Menagerie reigns once again.”
Those words reached enough ears that many guests were beaming off the Lucky Streak, not waiting to hear more, if only to preserve their body backups.
I should have known when Farsi stood down, ceasing any further meddling after getting the Rippa and the RamRadden to withdraw, that she realized, even if I didn’t, that she didn’t have to do more. Leon would turn the tides from there. But I was so damn cocksure of myself….Who’d have thought the Klash, just by themselves, could ever be stopped, or even slowed? Moreover, how could the critical mass created by all the less significant galactic players ever be kept from blowing up in Leon’s face? Sonny would tear his own head off right now if it served any constructive purpose. Thank God you have so many moving pieces in play already for your next crack at him.
Even before then…
Was he down and out for the count, or just for this round? After all, it wasn’t like they were out of the Menagerie yet. Just the opposite. Leon would be facing his darkest hour right now as well.
“And?” Sonny snorted the question more than asked it.
“We have reports of 2nd generation Peacekeepers entering the Gypsy Galaxy from the Lagrange point.”
It took but a second for Sonny to process the value of this intel. “Excellent,” Sonny said, squeezing his shoulders.
The remaining guests relaxed and continued with their gaming.
“You deserve to share in the glory,” Sonny said to Faceless. “You will come with us.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Sonny gestured to Bulldog, a.k.a. Samson, who relayed the order to beam the Lucky Streak into the line of fire so that Sonny’s Blue could work her magic.
Seconds later, using Gerlari to geolocate, they were on location.
Sonny approached the Blue, staring at the 2nd generation Peacekeeper. “Well, what are you waiting for?”
“You are too late,” Gerlari informed him. “Leon and Cassandra are on site.”
“You telling me you can’t take care of those two?”
“Now that Cassandra is coming into her own, no. With what is at stake if we raise a finger against them, she will blow the Lucky Streak out of space-time.”
“They wouldn’t dare sacrifice a Blue.”
“They won’t have to. Surviving disintegrating space stations, as you’ll recall, is part of my portfolio of skills.”
Sonny turned toward the port, his eyes afire.
“The battle is lost,” the Blue said. “Leon will escape the Menagerie with his dynasty intact. Your best hope now is to turn your attention to the long game, try and get control of one or more of these 2nd generation Peacekeepers, man them with your Special Forces units. So that they cannot be recalled by generals who lose their taste for battle after taking a meeting with a Cream Umbrage. A Peacekeeper is worth a full-on galactic invasion with everything a TGC has to throw at you any day.”
He knew she was right; that her counsel was true, as always. And still he couldn’t control his rage. He picked Faceless up and tossed him through the metal-glass port, the one
man with luck worse than his. The immediate venting of the atmosphere compelled the Blue to outstretch her arm to Sonny to keep him from being blown out of the Lucky Streak. His guests did not have the advantage of her arm against them.
Blown outside, they drifted about the 2nd generation peacekeeper, dead, like so many bottles of champagne struck against its hull to celebrate its launch.
The nanites making up the metal-glass window Sonny had just shattered quickly rebuilt the pane so the Lucky Streak’s AI could restore the atmosphere and get things back to normal; that included releasing a lot of robots to repair the interiors and replace the gaming tables also drifting among the stars where the ghosts of guests past could continue their gambling forever.
“Those were your VIP guests here to celebrate your victory. They will not take kindly to this treatment, replacement bodies in cold storage or no. Now you will have to rebuild those relationships, setting you back two squares on the gaming table instead of just one. Learn to control yourself better before Solo attaches me to someone more worthy of my talents.”
Somehow that remark got Sonny worse than any other from anyone, ever. Was he actually falling for this broad? Like her, he didn’t give his loyalty easily. That may have been more than he’d ever had in common with anybody. Maybe it was enough.
He resolved to do better. Besides, when she was right, she was right.
ONE HUNDRED THIRTY-SIX
THE GYPSY GALAXY
THE 2ND GENERATION PEACEKEEPER – BELONGING TO THE COLLECTORS
Cassandra pried back the second-generation Peacekeeper’s hull plating with her fingernails. The first generation ships’ hulls were white; the 2nd generation’s were black.
“Easy with that thing. We’re planning on recycling, not dumping,” Leon said.
She was shielding Leon from the ship’s outer hull robospiders tasked with repair; the lasers from her eyes dispatched the one coming toward her from the front. Occasionally she’d extend her arm and fire a bolus of energy from her palm chakra to dispatch the ones coming up behind her, the side Leon was hiding behind.