Superdreadnought- The Complete Series

by C H Gideon

  As the light flickered in front of the last person indicated, Reynolds realized that was the extent of the introductions they’d receive.

  None of the council waved or did anything more than make the most basic eye contact, and even that seemed as if it might have been too much for them.

  “Gorad has told us that you wish to observe our society and make allies among our shared people, Grindlovians and the Telluride, perhaps even trading with us should we find a suitable matching of goods or intelligence,” Fulla Sol went on. Her monotone voice was more mechanical than Gorad’s, Reynolds mused. There wasn’t a hint of inflection in the words, and he realized that the crew was probably cursing their translators for spewing the translation out in the exact same manner.

  “Those are indeed our hopes,” Jiya answered for him. She almost huffed as she spoke, possibly in subconscious defiance of the Grindlovian’s placid tone of voice.

  “Then it shall be,” Fulla Sol answered. “San Paget and L’Eliana will see you to your quarters. From there, Gorad will arrange for you to visit our world and its wonders. Our servants will come for you.”

  Reynolds bit back a chuckle as he wondered what kind of wonders they might see.

  “Until we meet again,” Fulla Sol said, letting San Paget wave goodbye to the crew for her.

  A moment later the meeting unexpectedly ended. The chair-bearing podium sank into the ground and disappeared, smooth steel hatches closing behind it.

  “The council thanks you for a productive meeting,” L’Eliana told the crew, smiling happily as if reveling in secret joy before waving them to their feet. “We will now escort you to your quarters. Gorad will reach out to you soon for your tour of the town and to speak with you.”

  The Telluride trotted off, and the crew followed.

  They were led through more plain halls until they came to another set of double doors.

  “This will be your quarters as long as you are here on Grindlevik 3,” San Paget announced. “Make yourselves comfortable, and have a pleasant stay.”

  The doors opened and the crew entered a room that was barely more functional than the council chamber, its gray color almost overwhelming in its negative sheen.

  The doors shut behind the crew, leaving them alone.

  “You know what this place needs to brighten it up a bit?” Ka’nak started. He stuck his tongue out in a playful manner as he looked from face to face. “A nice splash of blood across the wall.”

  Chapter Four

  Reynolds circled the room one way as Geroux went the other. They met at the middle and nodded at each other.

  “The room’s clear of listening devices, far as I can tell,” Geroux announced.

  “Perhaps our host is not as much a dictator as he could be,” Ka’nak said, looking around the place. “He sure could use an interior decorator, though. I spend all my time in dirty, sandy pits fighting for my life, and even I think this place is bland.”

  Ka’nak dropped onto one of the two couches in the main chamber and leaned back with a dissatisfied grunt.

  “About as comfy as squatting on the floor,” he grumbled, doing his best to find a sustainable position.

  “How many times did you guys need to bite your tongues to keep from asking the Grindlovians if there was something wrong with them?” Jiya asked. “They look sickly.”

  Takal grunted as he glanced about, wishing he had something to drink to take the mundane edge off the place and make it more interesting. Something with the sting that indicated a high percentage of alcohol.

  “I was examining the people as we passed, but I’m no more certain they are afflicted by anything than when we first arrived,” Takal explained. “I think that perhaps they are simply so pampered that they have devolved physically.”

  “Is that possible?” Jiya wondered.

  Takal shrugged and pointed to the doors. “I’m not sure how else to explain it. From what I’ve seen, that is the only conclusion I can arrive at.”

  Reynolds agreed. “Yeah, they look like balls of dough with twigs for arms and legs. I hope Gorad controls the weather here, too, or one stiff wind will send them tumbling from their automated thrones.”

  “And the meeting?” Geroux commented. “What was up with that? We didn’t say anything, and they were ready to boot us out and send us on our way.”

  “I suspect that’s Gorad’s doing,” Jiya told them, motioning to the room around them. “These people aren’t in charge of their existence. It reminds me of home,” she said, letting out a sad chuckle, “but on a much larger scale.”

  Geroux sighed. “That’s depressing.”

  “It most definitely is,” Ka’nak mumbled from his seat, where he was still squirming to get comfortable. “Can you imagine what the food will taste like? Cardboard and water, I’m picturing. Yummy.”

  “I’ll slip out and find a Telluride home to eat at if that’s the case,” Maddox announced. “Those folks look like they eat fairly well.”

  “Yeah,” Geroux started. “Why would they choose to serve these…” She raised her hands in surrender. “I’m not even sure what word to use for them.”

  “Lazy bastards?” Ka’nak offered.

  “I’m not sure that’s it,” Reynolds countered, “although I’m shitting presumptions out my ass.”

  “That’s a beautiful visual,” Geroux noted, her upper lip peeling back into a disgusted sneer.

  “Regardless, we need to determine if there is a back door to find what we seek without going directly at Gorad,” Reynolds went on. “It’s clear he’s in control of everything and has been directing our every move since we climbed aboard the shuttle, but how much say do the Grindlovians and Telluride have in their daily lives?”

  “You sure we can’t just chit-chat with Gorad and get out of here without having to quiz the locals?” Ka’nak asked. “I’m not seeing much potential for this trip to be fun by any definition of the word.”

  “We’re here for more than just fun, Ka’nak,” Maddox advised, waggling a finger at him. “We’re here—”

  A knock at the door interrupted the general.

  “That was quick,” Geroux muttered. “You think they’re here to get us already?”

  “Probably,” Reynolds answered. “Gorad didn’t strike me as one to sit around waiting.”

  “You AIs aren’t exactly patient,” Jiya added.

  Another knock sounded, and the crew stared at each other for a moment as if waiting to see who’d volunteer to get it.

  “I just got comfortable,” Ka’nak called, shaking his head and taking himself out of the running.

  Takal finally shrugged and acknowledged that he’d get the door when it came open on its own.

  L’Eliana stood outside, smiling. “Are you ready for your tour?”

  “Absolutely,” Reynolds answered, attempting to be cheery despite the mundane start. “Shall we?” he asked the others.

  Geroux took Jiya’s hand in hers and they started forward, Takal right behind them. Maddox followed them out. Ka’nak stayed seated, staring at the rest of the crew.

  “I’m not much for taking in the sights,” he said, “so I’ll stick around and hold down the fort. If you need me for something—you know, something that requires my particular talents—let me know.”

  Reynolds sighed, but Jiya didn’t want to argue with the pit fighter. It’d be easier to leave him behind and reach out via comm if they needed him.

  Jiya didn’t think they would, given what they’d seen of the people so far.

  The Grindlovians couldn’t be bothered to harm them, and the Telluride seemed far too friendly.

  “Don’t get into any trouble while we’re gone,” Jiya ordered Ka’nak.

  The warrior nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  “He can take care of himself,” Reynolds whispered to Jiya. “He’ll probably nap the whole time we’re gone anyway.”

  “We can take care of ourselves, too,” she shot back, clenching a fist and causing Reynolds to grin.
>
  “Indeed.”

  L’Eliana led them outside to the mobile walk, where another hovercraft awaited. This time, there were no Grindlovians in the seats. L’Eliana clambered in front and let the crew pick their own seats. Once they had gotten comfortable, the craft took off on its own.

  Jiya was amazed by the smooth operation of the transport and everything else in it, but as Reynolds had said, Gorad’s hands were pulling the strings for everything. She could picture the AI as a twisted version of Reynolds, sitting in a fortress lair in a tin-can body, rubbing his hands together maniacally.

  It was exactly how she pictured Reynolds.

  Occasionally.

  She bit back a chuckle and ignored the AI’s sideways glance at her sudden amusement.

  L’Eliana spoke about the town as they traveled, pointing out various aspects. The route this time took the crew deeper into the populated areas of Grindlevik 3, or Goranton, which Jiya wasn’t really sure was the city as a whole or just the part inside the walls.

  “Where are we headed?” Reynolds asked.

  “Our first stop is the droid factory, where all of the planet’s machines are created and maintained,” L’Eliana replied. “That’s the huge chrome area you can see over that way.” She motioned toward a building that gleamed as if it might be radioactive, given the lights illuminating it. “After that, we’ll visit the agro sector and go wherever you like from there.”

  “Accommodating,” Takal replied, smiling.

  The crew stayed silent, listening to L’Eliana chatter about landmarks that looked the same as all the others she described while Jiya took in the whole of the gray nothingness that sprawled before her.

  Jiya stifled a yawn more than once.

  They passed additional Grindlovians, and like those inside the walls, each had a Telluride with them, appearing in a sudden splash of color and assisting them in whatever they were doing. Jiya watched one of the golden-skinned servants leverage a Grindlovian female out of her chair and carry her to another at a street-side café, adjusting her so she leaned awkwardly against the table.

  The Telluride moved the female’s elbows into what looked like stirrups to hold her in place.

  She spotted several more instances of similar activity as they traveled, and after a while, she couldn’t stop herself from asking about it.

  “Are the Grindlovians…crippled?” she wondered, unsure if she was asking the right question.

  L’Eliana laughed, a musical burst of a sound. “No, of course, they aren’t,” she replied. “They are simply comfortable with their circumstances. They have both Gorad and us, the Telluride, to cater to their every whim or wish. They want for nothing.”

  “So, you guys just go around lifting and cleaning and caring for them all the time?” Geroux followed up.

  L’Eliana’s smile faltered a little at that. “It’s nothing like that,” she answered, but there was the vaguest quaver in her voice. Jiya wondered if it was because L’Eliana knew Gorad was listening to their conversation. “We are happy serving the Grindlovians and maintaining all of Grindlevik 3.”

  Reynolds shot Jiya a warning glance and the first officer returned a furtive nod that said she’d understood him.

  “Of course.” Jiya smiled and dipped her head. “Didn’t mean to imply otherwise. I was simply curious as to the nature of your society.”

  “It’s quite effective,” L’Eliana told her, clearly grateful to be on familiar ground.

  Effective, Jiya repeated in her head. That was definitely a word an AI would use, not a normal person explaining the nature of their life.

  The thought struck a nerve in her, but Jiya took a deep breath and let it go as best she could. She knew Reynolds hadn’t brought them there to muck around in the lives of the locals, but she was also starting to think she knew him well enough to realize that he wasn’t as hard around the edges as he acted.

  He cared for other beings—she’d seen evidence of that on Lariest—and she suspected he had more in mind for this trip than simply safe harbor and trade.

  Jiya definitely wanted more than that. Otherwise, she’d have stayed on Lariest and wasted the rest of her life driving a hovercab and dodging her father and his demands as she had been for years.

  Before she could dwell on that disturbing thought, the hovercraft pulled up to a chrome doorway, which led into the droid compound L’Eliana had been describing.

  “Here we are at the droid factory,” she announced as the doors whooshed open and their craft drifted inside. A sudden burst of chilly air struck them full-on, and Jiya shivered at the abrupt change in temperature. “It’s a marvel of technological glory,” L’Eliana said, and Jiya noted the rote nature of the exclamation.

  The poor female had been made to pitch it like a used hovercraft salesperson.

  The craft dropped them off, and as L’Eliana led them into the factory, Jiya realized the apparently overzealous description might well be spot-on.

  “Wow!” Geroux muttered when he saw the factory splayed out before them.

  Maddox enthusiastically agreed.

  The place was humongous, and every meter of space was devoted to the creation or maintenance of a wide variety of droids and robots.

  There were copies of models they’d passed on the way there, both at the landing field and in town, as well as a multitude more that they hadn’t noticed before.

  What struck her the most was that there was not a single living, breathing being in the whole building except for the crew and L’Eliana.

  Everything was automated.

  Everything.

  Machines hummed and whined in the background, mechanical limbs lifting and tugging and twisting, working with delicate electronics and hardened chassis frames all at the same time in a spellbinding dance of mechanized acrobatics.

  Jiya looked at the assembly area and could see no room for error in the delicate operations going on at high speed right in front of her.

  “The timing of the system is exquisite,” Takal said. He was staring over Jiya’s shoulder, his wide eyes gleaming.

  “This is…quite impressive,” Reynolds was forced to admit, although Jiya heard the pause in his declaration and knew he was contemplating much more than the precision of the operation.

  L’Eliana had begun to explain the process when Reynolds’ voice came over the comm, reverberating within her head.

  There are no servants here. No workers. Nothing, he told her, glancing around.

  Realizing he’d sent the message only to her, she nodded without replying.

  He was right.

  Gorad was in complete control of the operation, and there was no one looking over the overseer’s shoulder. Reminded her of one of her father’s favorite sayings: Who watches the watchers?

  That is rather ominous, Jiya thought.

  “Does Gorad control all this?” Reynolds asked their guide. “The production of the droids?”

  L’Eliana nodded. “He does indeed. Gorad builds and maintains all of our electronics and technology, and keeps us safe from invasion by maintaining the Space Defense Initiative.”

  “And…you’re okay with that?” Geroux asked, eyes narrowed.

  “Why wouldn’t we be?” L’Eliana answered, no hint of subterfuge in her reply. She truly believed allowing that the AI absolute and total control over their world was a positive thing.

  Jiya shuddered, wondering where that mentality could lead these beings if everyone believed the same way.

  She pictured Grindlevik 3 and figured she was already seeing its effects, or at least the beginning stages.

  Jiya wanted to question the young Telluride further, but she knew better than to put the female in a tough position. Jiya really wanted to interrogate her and take all the information from her mind since Gorad was obviously everywhere, but Jiya didn’t want to do anything that might put L’Eliana in danger.

  Still, thinking about it made a knot grow in her stomach. L’Eliana appeared safe and healthy and didn’t look
mistreated, but Jiya couldn’t help but feel that she and her people, as well as the Grindlovians, were missing out on something Jiya took for granted: freedom of choice.

  L’Eliana led them through the building, letting the crew marvel at the setup and watch as legions of droids were crafted and assembled in a blur of motion.

  It was breathtaking.

  And then they were being ushered back into the hovercraft.

  It shot off at a fast clip, and Jiya stared over her shoulder at the droid factory until it receded.

  She’d felt the unspoken tension in Reynolds and wondered what he was thinking while taking the whole of Gorad’s operation in.

  She could only imagine he was probing and surveying everything to find something he could take advantage of in all the order and conformity; something that would benefit the crew and their mission. He also was hesitant to talk in case Gorad had a way to intercept their internal comms. Paranoia seized her.

  Other than the possibility of a new android body for Reynolds—or at least some good parts for one—there wasn’t much at the factory that she could see him being interested in.

  Swing and a miss, Jiya thought as they rode off, picturing the growing contest of wills between the two AIs like a game of chess. It had laser blasters and energy blades, though, the two hacking and shooting at each other in their quest for an advantage.

  The grin still on her face from that image, Jiya held on tight as the hovercraft came to a stop outside an even more remote location than the last.

  “What’s here?” Geroux asked, always inquisitive.

  L’Eliana hopped out of the hovercraft, smiling. “This is our agro-sector, where all of our food products are created and modified for each of our peoples. This is Grindlevik 3’s greenhouse, or as we call it, “the Greenhouse.”

  Jiya looked for the expected fields, but there were none. There was nothing more than a long warehouse-looking building that seemed to stretch for miles and miles away from them. There was nothing but barren earth on either side of the building.

  L’Eliana went up to the building and, as had happened everywhere else, the doors opened of their own accord.