Superdreadnought- The Complete Series

by C H Gideon

  “That explains the smell,” Geroux said, covering her nose and giggling.

  Reynolds triggered the panel by the door and waved the crew into the hangar. He thought about warning them about not saying too much during the flight but decided against it.

  He’d let the situation serve as a teaching moment for the crew to see how they acted and how aware they were in strange and possibly hostile situations.

  They climbed into the shuttle and took their seats, Reynolds bringing up the rear. He quickly and methodically examined the ship’s interior as he entered. He noted that the shuttle’s seats were designed for humanoids the shape and size of the Larians.

  Nothing stood out as sinister or odd, which made him happy.

  Whatever Gorad’s plans were, it didn’t seem to involve harming them.

  As for anything else, Reynolds would have to wait until they were on the ground to see if the alien AI had anything else planned.

  That was okay. Reynolds was patient.

  Sort of.

  Chapter Three

  The shuttle hurtled toward Grindlevik 3’s surface, and Reynolds was rather surprised by what he saw as they drew closer.

  Not necessarily surprised, since he hadn’t known what to expect to begin with, but he had thought the planet would be less…sterile looking.

  “That’s, interesting,” Jiya remarked beside him, peering out the shuttle’s windows as he was.

  “What’s that?” Maddox asked, leaning over to follow her gaze.

  The gray and antiseptic atmosphere looked back at them.

  And that was exactly how to describe it. There was very little in the way of color in the city they were flying over, not to mention very little in the way of variety. Everything was so similar it was a blur.

  “It’s like a black and white image,” Takal noted. “Only…starker.”

  “I like it,” Geroux said. “It’s symmetrical and neat. It’s like computer code stretched out and made into houses.”

  Jiya chuckled. “You’re right, it does look like code on a screen.”

  Reynolds nodded at hearing that, realizing he shouldn’t have expected much else from Gorad. It was obvious that the AI had a hand in everything they had seen, from the orbiting space station to the planet’s surface.

  Whatever part of Gorad piloted the shuttle remained quiet. While he had to know that Reynolds knew he was there, listening, he was keeping a low profile, not interrupting the crew or involving himself in their conversation. As Reynolds was doing, Gorad was collecting data.

  The shuttle came in smoothly and landed gently, the door opening as soon as the ship touched down.

  The crew chattered curiously among themselves as they slipped free of the restraining gear and clambered to their feet. Once up, they gathered their equipment and made their way off the transport shuttle.

  Ka’nak went first, filling his role as team security.

  Maddox followed on the warrior’s heels, likely imagining the same scenario as Reynolds.

  Reynolds appreciated the general’s cognizance in situations like this. He could count on the male to keep a level head at times of stress. Since the treatments following his lengthy incarceration, the general had greatly improved, becoming affable and keen.

  Unless there was gambling and a neuromanipulator was involved—then all bets with the general were off.

  Reynolds chuckled at that, but he realized the male’s captivity had made him more susceptible to the device back on Loran. He couldn’t be blamed for his loss of control.

  Once the crew was outside, the inhuman nature of the planet became even more apparent. Automated vehicles and devices flitted back and forth in a rigid fashion, following an obvious grid, none deviating from their course or making a sound beyond a mechanical whir.

  Bots filled the space between, overseeing everything that was happening. They were imperious in their presence, and Reynolds was amazed to see just how many there were. They were everywhere; way more than he suspected were necessary for the tasks. It was overkill. The living creatures of Grindlevik 3 were nowhere to be seen.

  Reynolds figured there might be more to the excessive bot population than just oversight.

  As he took in the environment, he spied a vehicle coming their way in defiance of the meticulous order of everything else around them. It was also the only thing that had even a remote splash of color to it.

  That turned out to be its occupants, not the vehicle itself.

  Reynolds turned his focus on the beings. Pasty blue, almost sickly-looking, and rail-thin, the two locals pulled up alongside the shuttle and parked in front of the crew.

  There were no instruments on either side of the vehicle where the greeters sat. Like the rest of the machines around the landing area, this vehicle was automated.

  Which would explain the complete lack of muscle tone the two males—although Reynolds couldn’t be sure of their gender, he assumed they were male—had going on.

  “Greetings, Reynolds and crew,” the alien on the far side of them said. He barely turned his head to look their direction as he spoke, side-eyeing them as if his head were incapable of movement. The other didn’t turn at all.

  “Hello,” Jiya said with a smile, offering them a half-hearted wave despite their obvious lack of excitement at seeing the crew. She lowered her hand when they didn’t react.

  Maddox pulled a face that clearly said he didn’t appreciate the aliens’ disinterest.

  “I am Vor Gna,” the other said, sparing a glance at the one in the seat beside him, though it looked as if the movement was almost too much for him. There was the barest hint of a smile on his lips. “This is Vor Ilm. It is our pleasure to make your acquaintance on behalf of the Grindlovian people and our overseer, the great and generous Gorad.”

  “Pleasure to meet you both,” Reynold replied, modifying his tone to match theirs. He wasn’t sure if the monotone was a cultural thing, but he didn’t want to appear as if he were yelling at the aliens. He suspected that might be considered rude.

  “Please join us in the vehicle, and we will transport you to the meeting chambers where you can speak to our leaders.”

  Vor Gna waved at the crew to join them, but to Reynolds, it looked more like his hand had suffered an involuntary spasm.

  Jiya glanced at Reynolds, and the AI offered a subtle shrug and mouthed, “Go along with it,” unsure how to approach the Grindlovians.

  Never before had he seen such indifference in a greeting party. They normally put on a big happy face and were all smiles, or they pointed guns and threatened. This behavior was strange.

  The crew did as they were asked and clambered into the vehicle, making a conscious effort to do so casually and calmly. All but Ka’nak.

  The Melowi warrior jumped in last, landing heavily next to Maddox and setting the vehicle to shuddering before its antigrav systems recalibrated.

  Reynolds glanced at the aliens, expecting a reaction of some sort, but if they had responded, the movement had been too subtle for him to notice. They sat there, slumped in their seats and stared straight ahead.

  He wasn’t sure the two even blinked.

  Once the crew was aboard, the vehicle shot forward of its own accord. Reynolds had the feeling that, once again, Gorad was in complete control.

  He wondered why the other AI had even bothered to send the two alien beings. They’d hardly done anything to soften the image of a mechanical overlord controlling every aspect of their lives.

  The rest of the trip did nothing to disabuse him of that idea.

  The vehicle shot across perfectly ordered tarmac to slip into perfectly ordered traffic and proceeded through a perfectly ordered neighborhood. Absolutely nothing was out of place.

  Except, of course, the few Grindlovians they saw as they passed.

  Splotches of pale blue stuck out here and there on the sidewalks, but it seemed as if, despite the scanners showing Grindlevik 3 having a large population, there were maybe only a dozen or so Grindlo
vians out and about.

  And those who were seemed almost incapable of independent movement.

  The Grindlovians scooted about in automated chairs. Well, chairs might be a stretch. They were close to being beds.

  They reclined deeply, and the passengers barely sat upright, letting the cart drive them wherever they were going without any obvious direction from the rider. What little traffic there was on the sidewalks was also perfectly organized, no two chairs getting close to colliding despite the inability of their passengers to see anything around them clearly.

  The chairs went about their business, whatever that might be, as if that was how things had always been.

  Reynolds suspected that might well be true, and wondered how Gorad had taken such complete control of the humanoids.

  As they continued on, Reynolds caught sight of a lift device deploying out of the back of one of the chairs. It reached around and clutched the Grindlovian in a padded harness, which lifted the being up and out of the chair.

  The arm maneuvered him in front of a small outdoor shop—more a simple counter with a board with alien writing behind it and not much else—where another Grindlovian sat in a chair similar to the first. The two carried on a slow, quiet conversation, and Reynolds noted that additional limbs sprouted out of the lift’s arm and did the pointing for the Grindlovian, jabbing mechanical fingers at various parts of the board.

  “He’s…shopping,” Takal murmured, eyes wide. “Interesting.”

  “Yes,” Vor Gna said, catching all of them off-guard with his soft incantation. They’d almost forgotten the silent beings were in the front of the vehicle. “It is a Csma shop. Best in town. You should try some before you leave.” Before the vehicle moved on, the crew spotted a dull gray drink being handed over by a mechanical arm. A second one stuffed a straw into the cup, and a third moved the end of that straw into the Grindlovian’s mouth.

  Jiya tapped Reynolds’ leg and stared at him from under raised eyebrows.

  The ride lasted several minutes longer, during which the crew were treated to similar views of Grindlovian society.

  No one did anything for themselves. The superdreadnought’s crew found that disconcerting. They were an active bunch, unable to contemplate being bedridden as a matter of course.

  It wasn’t until the vehicle passed through a walled section of town—the two Vors announcing this to be the inner sanctum of Gorad—that the crew saw another race of beings scurrying about.

  Jiya sighed, and Reynolds found himself nodding. These must be the Telluride, he thought.

  The polar opposite of the Grindlovians, the Telluride were full of life.

  They strolled behind the mass of chaired Grindlovians. The Telluride, while perhaps a bit short and stocky, were in fantastic physical shape. Their golden skin gleamed under the sunlight in sharp contrast to the overwhelming palette of gray that surrounded them.

  Their hair was a deep red, almost fiery in the way it reflected the light, and many wore an array of colorful bands to keep the wild strands at bay.

  These people had none of the restraint of the Grindlovians, though neither group seemed to balk at the huge difference between the species.

  Where the area outside of the wall had been maintained by bots and automated services, it appeared that much of what went on inside the wall was handled by the Telluride.

  Where mechanical arms had lifted things and helped the pale Grindlovians around, the strong Telluride were hands-on inside the compound.

  Reynolds spied one of the golden beings pointing and discussing something with the shopkeeper at what looked to be a clothing store, apparently on behalf of the Grindlovian in the chair beside him.

  Another Telluride came up to the first and the two had a raucous debate, albeit a friendly one, before the Telluride worker handed a pale gray scarf to the first. Reynolds didn’t notice an exchange of money of any kind, but the Telluride wrapped the ugly scarf around the neck of the Grindlovian in the chair.

  The two Telluride said their goodbyes, and the pair moved on at a slow and leisurely pace down the street.

  “We’re here,” Vor Ilm announced quietly, and the vehicle came to a gentle stop in front of a huge building.

  A moving walkway ran from the curb, which the vehicle had parked within a centimeter of, all the way to the front door of the building.

  “Please disembark and take the walkway to the door,” Vor Gna told them. Again, a flicker of his hand appeared to be what passed for a wave or a point on Grindlevik 3. “Servants will meet you there to take you the rest of the way to the meeting hall.”

  “Once more, we are honored by your presence,” Vor Ilm said, then both the Grindlovians went silent, clearly waiting for the crew to climb out of the vehicle.

  “That sounds like our cue,” Maddox muttered, hopping over the side of the vehicle and landing next to the walk to wait for the others.

  Ka’nak grunted and scrambled out, followed by Jiya, Takal, Geroux, and Reynolds last. The AI glanced back to say goodbye to the two Grindlovians, but the vehicle shot off before he could. Neither of the aliens had said a word.

  He watched their blue heads disappear around a corner, leaving the crew on a nearly empty street. Only a few Grindlovians traveled nearby, each having at least one of the Telluride nearby.

  “This is quite…interesting,” Takal said, nodding as he looked about, clearly unable to think of a better word for what he saw.

  “’Disturbing’ is the word I’d use for it,” Geroux countered, helping him. “These Grindlovians look ill,” she suggested. “I wonder what’s happened to them to make them so frail?”

  “I’m afraid to ask,” Jiya muttered, her expression sharper than it normally was

  The first officer was taking in all she could see before making an assessment.

  Reynolds grinned at that.

  “It looks like they’re waiting for us,” Ka’nak said, gesturing toward the distant door.

  Two of the colorful Telluride stood at attention just inside the glass, staring out at the crew.

  “Let’s not keep our hosts waiting,” Reynold announced. “Weird as they might be,” he added more quietly.

  Jiya, the only one close enough to hear him, chuckled.

  The crew stepped onto the moving walkway, and it carried them at a comfortable speed toward the doors.

  There were a number of humanoid bots spread around the open courtyard in odd postures and positions. It took Reynolds a moment to realize that they were intended to be statues.

  They were held in the air by steel rods, displayed almost as if they were victims of a battle, staked in public as a warning.

  Their eyes were dim and lifeless, and their arms hung limply at their sides. Their feet dangled about a foot off the ground, and their heads drooped to their chests.

  “That’s…kinda creepy,” Geroux noted, her eyes scanning the multitude of bot statues.

  “I’d be nervous if I were you,” Ka’nak told Reynolds.

  Reynolds nodded. “I’d be nervous if I were me, too.”

  The walkway quickly took them past the odd robot museum cum cemetery, and the doors hissed open in front of them. Two Telluride grinned and offered the crew a deep bow.

  “Welcome to Goranton,” the first said. “I am San Paget, and this is L’Eliana. We work for the Grindlovian Council and are to see you to them for an audience.

  The pair positively beamed as they welcomed the crew, stepping out of the way with a grace that belied their sturdy builds.

  Like those Telluride the crew had seen on the street, these two were dressed far more gaudily than the Grindlovians. Red hair and colorful ties were present, and there was little to distinguish the male from the female outside of a slight softening of the features that made L’Eliana look cheerier than her counterpart, if only by a little.

  “This way, please,” L’Eliana told them, not waiting for a reply. She started off immediately with a light step.

  After the meeting with the G
rindlovians, it was almost as if the crew were forced into fast-forward.

  The Telluride pair led them through Goranton, as they’d called it. Reynolds suspected that it had been named after the reigning AI.

  The walls and floor were gray and featureless, not a hint of art or style anywhere.

  Jiya leaned in close so only Reynolds could hear her. “This feels like a prison,” she said, sneering. “With very vibrant and happy guards.”

  Reynolds nodded. It did feel as if it were some form of institution. Like the view from the city above, it was cold and plain; functional but nothing more.

  There was no hint that anyone lived in the place, let alone worked there.

  The hallway they traveled seemed to last forever, going on and on and on until L’Eliana and San Paget came to a halt outside a pair of plain doors without handles. San Paget waved his hand in front of a sensor plate, which was so simplistic that Reynolds hadn’t even noticed it before then, and the doors swung inward, clearing the way for the crew.

  “Please enter and have a seat before the council,” L’Eliana told them.

  The room was fairly large, but like everything else they’d passed, it had no character. Automated chairs that looked more like mobile podiums stood at attention near the back of the room, and several rows of plain chairs were arrayed before them.

  Each of the five podium chairs had a Grindlovian in it, although they were hard to see, hunkered down in their seats as they were and hidden by the mechanical apparatus of the chairs.

  The crew marched in, offered a greeting to the council, and sat when L’Eliana encouraged them to. The council members simply stared.

  Reynolds was sure he saw one of them blink, though.

  He thought he might die from all the excitement, but by dint of great effort, he contained himself.

  The Telluride came over and flanked the crew after they’d settled in, apparently waiting on some clue or another.

  “Greetings, off-worlders,” a Grindlovian said from the middle of the group. A light flickered on the floor below her, spotlighting the female. “I am Fulla Sol. To my left is Fulla Vae, then Vor Stygn.” The light jumped to each as she introduced him. "To my right are Vor Hiln and Fulla Lofn.”