by Reg Franklin
“I can’t believe I’m even thinking about agreeing to this.” Chris sat up straight and stared at the Prelt. “But before I do, I want to know why your people would execute you for this. They didn’t execute Quordex, and he nearly exterminated your species.”
+Many of my people would not take issue with the science.+ Lami’s eyes dimmed. +But Hst-ur-Dra is not one of them. It is not sanction from the rest of my people I fear, but him.+
“Why?” West asked, not unkindly. “Lami, you haven’t even told me why Aster would want you dead.”
+The technique of engram transference is not generally known. In fact, I only learned of it recently, after studying all of Quordex’s research.+ She bowed her head and linked her fingers. +He developed the science. Aster would order my execution for using it, even if to save a life.+
“So you are offering to use technology developed by a war criminal with the blood of millions on his hands in order to save one life.” Chris felt the headache returning. “Doctor, give me one good reason why I should allow this now? Just one.”
“I can give you three, the names of Pickman’s children back on Earth who will never see their father again if we don’t do this.” West stood ramrod straight.
Chris glared at him. “That’s low, doc.” His expression softened. “But true. Do it.”
West saluted, Lami clumsily copying the unfamiliar gesture. “Thank you, sir.”
“Just get it done before we reach Centauri base and I have to answer any questions about it.”
The doctor and alien left the room, excitedly discussing the procedure. “I’m out of my goddamn mind.” Chris grumbled. His office door chimed again. “Oh for...enter!” He snapped.
Jennifer walked in. “I take it you approved of whatever Lami and West want to do?”
“Approved of it? Of course not!” Chris scowled at her and explained what they were up to. He expected her to show outrage.
“Well. He’ll live. That’s the important thing, right?” Jennifer settled into a chair opposite him.
“While we break one of the oldest laws on genetic science ever established! I mean, Christ, not even Stragdoc violated that law!”
“That we know of.” Jennifer shrugged. “But you’re right, I’m pretty sure he hasn’t. He’s more about the perfection of the individual, how each person is unique in their own way. Alphite conversion is more about preserving every unique mind.”
“But, you’re not outraged like I am?”
She shook her head. “If Pickman had been immediately killed like that other man, that would be different. Cloning doesn’t resurrect the dead, memories intact. What Lami wants to do is basically like copying intact data from a corrupted medium. The data is intact, but due to the corruption, there’s no way to retrieve it outside of rebuilding the source.”
“I still don’t like this.” He grumbled.
“You don’t have to. What you do have to do if this works is congratulate West and Lami, and welcome Pickman back.”
“And if it doesn’t?”
“Depends. If it fails in such a way that Pickman doesn’t survive, thank West and Lami for trying. If it fails the way you’re worried about it failing, well, it won’t be a concern for long.”
Chris rolled his eyes. “You’re very reassuring.” The sarcasm was palpable.
“I try.” Jennifer shrugged.
17.
Callixta opened her eyes slowly, catching movement on her peripheral vision. In a moment, Praxus swam into focus. “Your highness! How do you feel?”
“My head hurts. For starters. What happened?” She struggled to sit up.
“I sensed a powerful mind touching something in the palace. Whatever it was attacked you and the Emperor, until one of you killed the point of contact. The outside mind was using it as a sort of broadcast transmitter.”
“I see...Paul! Where is my husband??” Callixta became worried considering her last view of him.
“My lady, you first need to rec-” his voice cut off and Callixta grabbed his throat and hefted him from the floor.
“Where. Is. My. Husband??” Her voice rose to a shriek on the last word, and she dropped Praxus to the floor.
He sucked in breath. “P...perhaps it would be easier to show you.” He grabbed a curtain, pulled it to the side, revealing the body of the Emperor Eternal.
He was breathing, Callixta immediately noted, a good sign. But his eyes...they were wide open and staring into nothingness. “What’s wrong with him?” Her voice was barely a whisper.
“According to Dr. Peters, physiologically he’s fine. Lost a lot of blood, but the ruptures healed, his blood content is now normal, no permanent damage at all. He’s just...not there.”
Callixta paled. “Have you tried scanning his mind?”
Praxus frowned. “A cursory scan, and his mental defenses are too strong for me to risk a deeper probe. That’s why I think this state is temporary or maybe self-induced; the defenses are still there. If he were completely gone, there’d be nothing there.”
Callixta knelt beside her beloved’s side. Darling?
There was no response.
She pushed her mind deeper into his. Paul, my love, are you there? We nee-
OLD IMPOSSIBLY OLD DEFEATED ME LIKE A CHILD I WILL HUNT THAT ALIEN BITCH DOWN AND VIVISECT HER DAMN THAT CODEX I WILL KILL HIM
Callixta pressed a hand to her temple. Darling he’s dead. I killed him to save us.
The mental screaming stopped. ...Callixta?
Yes, love. Come back to us.
A pause. I cannot. Whatever that...thing...did to me seems to have locked me within my own mind. It will take time to break loose. Another pause. She did not do the same to you?
She was using that alien, Codex, as a broadcast amplifier. At least Praxus thinks so. When I killed him, it cut her off.
I see. Interesting. Ensure that the good doctor does not dissect his brain. I will handle that. A sensation, like a mental sigh. This is frustrating. While I break free, you will need to take command of the Empire.
Callixta shook her head, even though he could not see it. But love, I have no experience in leading forces!
Listen to our advisors. Dalth, Praxus, Peters, Curwin, the rest. Trust in them. And if you need further counselling..
His thoughts turned bitter and rueful.
...it seems I’m not going anywhere.
She nodded, stood, explained his state to Praxus.
“So, what do we do while he recuperates?” He gnawed on a thumbnail, staring at the virtually comatose body of his mentor and Emperor.
“We do as he would. He was about to inspect the fleet, so we shall do so in his stead. And we continue to prepare for the coming invasion.” Callixta stood straight and tall. “Lord Truk, how stand the Neuromancers?”
Praxus bowed deeply. “We stand at your command, Empress.”
“Find a lieutenant to act as your voice, you shall accompany me as an advisor until such time as the war begins in earnest.”
“As you command, majesty.” Praxus fought to keep the excitement from his voice. To advise the Empress herself! The honor and privilege of it! “I will strive to give you the best information possible.”
“You had best, or we will perish in flames and darkness.”
18.
“We are approaching Earth, Zath. I thought you may like to see our home.” Kelly smiled courteously.
Zath chuckled/coughed slightly. +You presume I have never seen it.+
Kelly started. “You’ve been here before?
+Long time ago. I was aboard an expeditionary vessel, I suffered an engine failure, and had to make an emergency landing for repairs. Some of your people saw me, and were rather scared by my appearance. Fortunately, I was able to repair my vessel before anyone else could be scared by me.+
Kelly sat in a chair opposite the alien. Quarters had been prepared upon his arrival, with a suitably sized viewport so Zath could find nourishment. “For what it’s worth, I apologize that yo
ur first contact with our species was...less than hospitable.
Zath laughed again. +Believe me, K’l-Y-Yng, that was nothing. Our first contact with the Gieron involved attempted slavery on their part.+
“The Gieron? So there are other races between ours and the Vandle?”
Zath cocked his head. +Of course. For one to think that they are alone in the universe would be the height of arrogance.+
Kelly choked back a retort, instead opting to ask “What are these Gieron like?”
+Brutes. They attempt to intimidate other races through displays of strength, enhanced through mechanical augmentation. But gather enough together, and they become ferociously intelligent.+
Kelly filed the information away mentally. “Who else is out there? Forgive me, but for centuries, we did believe that we were alone. There were certainly people who thought otherwise, but as time dragged on and no one contacted us, I’m sure you can understand.”
+I am sure I do. There are many races, and soon you will meet some of them. For if your governing body agrees to ally, we shall contact other Prelt to rendezvous at a neutral point for conference. The Gieron shall be there, as will races such as the Yoth-y’n, the Xaodi, even the Relex have consented.+
“The...relics?”
Zath pronounced the word again, rell-EKS. +Although they are relics in a sense. A servitor race of the Salk’art. They repudiated their affiliation only once their masters left. Many do not trust them, myself included, but against the childer of Quordex, all allies must be explored.+
“What of the others you mentioned?”
+The Yoth-y’n are great explorers, nothing brings them greater joy than a new discovery. The Xaodi are aesthetes, what I believe you call pacifists? You will like the Xaodi, I think, for they are similar in development to your own species. Familiar, but different.+
“I see.” Kelly stood. “I know your people do not use honorifics, but for the meeting we are to attend, you may be addressed as ‘ambassador’, it means-”
+I have been studying your linguistics in order to better prepare myself for this meeting.+ Zath rose to his feet (although if Prelt even had feet, Kelly was unaware. All that remained visible were the ebony head and chitinous hands) +Tell me, will your government believe our warning?+
Kelly led the way out. “If it was just me or the Admiral, probably not. But both your presence and the preserved Vandle corpse should convince them.”
They remained silent until reaching the bridge. As the ship left superluminal velocity, Kelly felt a moment of worry. A nagging feeling of concern.
It was well founded. Ships orbiting the Earth were engaged in a furious battle, the familiar Terran vessels of the planetary defense force, and unfamiliar, torpedo-shaped craft.
+It would appear,+ Zath remarked dryly, +Your people will require little convincing.+
---
“Easy there, Picky, your body’s been through a lot.” Dr. West helped the suddenly able-bodied man to his feet. “Best take it slow.”
Following what Lami declared a successful transference, they had moved Pickman’s clone body away from the lab under mild sedation, while the original finally succumbed to the carcinogenic poisons and was quietly destroyed.
Jennifer performed a surface scan of the resurrected Pickman’s mind, just to get a sense of his feelings. There was some confusion, a feeling of awkwardness, the best Jennifer could compare it to was breaking in a new pair of shoes.
“It worked?” Chris was now next to her.
“Looks like it. He’s definitely in there.”
“And the...equipment used for the procedure?”
“Disassembled or slagged.” Jennifer smirked. “They followed your orders to the letter.”
Chris nodded, exhaled. “The ship’s quartermaster is exploring options for protective suits. We’ll need them going forward.”
“Admiral? We’re nearing Centauri Base. T-minus three minutes to arrival.”
Chris glanced at the nearby speaker his adjutant’s voice came from. “Thank you, Jemma. When we return to realspace, please contact the Commander and request a meeting on board the Alex at his earliest convenience.” Chris allowed himself a smile. “If Baker makes any excuses, remind him he still owes me seventy bucks from our last game.”
“Wonderful chain of command you have there.” Jennifer muttered.
“Hey, I beat him fair and square.” Chris grinned. “It’s not my fault that he’s not as good a poker player as he thinks.”
West entered the observation room, followed by Lami. “Well, he’s as good as can be expected. Definitely confused, and I think we forgot to account for the fact he had his appendix out as a boy because he noticed his new body is missing a scar, but we can just blame ‘Prelt science’ for that.”
Lami’s eyes were extremely bright. +I am very glad I could help P’k-mn. The potential exile I will face is a small price to pay for preserving his life.+
Chris nodded. And after a short elbow jab from Jennifer, he added “Congratulations to the both of you. Now, never ask me to do that again.”
Jennifer rolled her eyes.
+This procedure was quite exciting! Working under a deadline, the saving of life, use of techniques I have never tried! I hope I may remain working with you, J’n...Johnathon.+ Lami slowly pronounced West’s name. He beamed at her progress.
And things went to hell.
“Admiral to the bridge, we are under attack, this is not a drill, enemy ships turned on us once we left superluminal!” Jemma’s voice was taut with fear.
Chris ran for the lift, Jennifer following. The human and Prelt scientists turned to each other.
“Tell me, Lami, does your species enjoy games of strategy?”
---
“Who the hell are we fighting? I want visuals, now!” Chris snapped upon arriving on the bridge. The screens quickly displayed images of thin, torpedo shaped craft. Chris recognized them quickly, after all, they’d recovered three of them from the planetoid they’d left.
“We’re too late.” Jennifer murmured, reaching out for any human minds. The few she found were weak, dying.
“No such thing!” Chris snapped. “I want a wide spread on our forward cannons, they might have bloodied Centauri Base’s nose, but I intend to break theirs.”
Arcs of light blasted from the Alex’s prow, catching dozens of the small craft, incinerating them.
“Admiral, their ships...they’re too small to have superluminal velocity.” Jennifer stated, reaching out further, struggling to pin down human minds, separating them from the Vandle.
“Broadside cannons, wide arc, hit them again!” Chris bellowed. Turning to Jennifer, he spoke more softly. “I noticed that. They have to have been brought here on some kind of fleet carrier.” Raising his voice again, “Give me numbers, how many are left! How many did we hit?”
Jemma checked a scanner. “Approximately sixty-four enemy combatants were destroyed instantly, another hundred were damaged, they’re out of the fight for now.” She swallowed. “We’re reading another six hundred are still out there.”
Chris grimaced. Ok, they want to play? Let’s play. “Prepare the forward rail cannon with a fifty megaton yield! Target the center of this cluster here, it’s to detonate only at that point!”
“Sir, several of the enemy ships are approaching at high velocity! Looks like they’re trying to ram us!” A young lieutenant shouted.
“Ram? No. They’re trying to board us!” Jennifer ran for the doors. “Admiral, I’m the only one who can kill them without spilling that blood, keep me posted what decks they arrive on, seal them off until I get there!”
Chris barely heard her, too focused on the carnage he was watching, trying to analyze the Vandle tactics.
“Ordinance ready, sir!” Jemma announced, hand over the firing control. “Rail cannon is charged.”
“Fire!” Chris shouted. The hyper-accelerated nuclear weapon blasted through a score of Vandle ships before reaching the coordinates,
where it detonated with a flash of light. Once it faded, enemy ships were scrambling away from the blast.
“Status?” Chris mopped sweat from his brow.
“Half the remaining enemy ships crippled or destroyed. Reporting to Ms. Safyo that we have breeches on decks five, twelve, and thirty!”
Chris nodded and turned on the ship-wide broadcast. “All hear this! If you are on decks four through thirteen, or decks twenty-nine through thirty-one, seal yourself in and do not engage the enemy! We’ve hit the enemy hard, but they’re not going to retreat. They take no prisoners, and despite our natural tendency to show compassion to the defeated, in this case we cannot. The Vandle are a cancer that must be destroyed. Co-existence is impossible. All cannons, fire at your discretion.”
