Faulty Prophet

by Karl Beecher

  "The Predecessor who talks to me. He just sent me a warning."

  "Predecessor?" scoffed Falco. "What is this nonsense?"

  Ade ignored him. "What warning, sir?"

  Colin Douglass explained. "He told me that another Predecessor has invaded our dimension, a Predecessor called Creth…wait no, Crez…Crzethnuk, that was it. He says this Crzethnuk has invaded and possessed the body of a human."

  "Your body, sir?"

  "No," replied Colin. "Someone called Lowcuzt Null."

  Falco knew that name. He quickly put aside his scepticism. He was always willing to believe news of Lowcuzt Null being in trouble.

  He grabbed Colin Douglass's shoulders. "Lowcuzt Null?" he cried. "Possessed, what are you talking about?"

  Colin looked back, apprehensively. "I…I don't know, Mister Shuffla. That's all he said. He didn't get a chance to say anything else—"

  CLACK!

  "What was that?" muttered Falco.

  Colin stopped. He seemed to have heard it too.

  Ade looked behind them. "Something knocked against the south window, sir."

  CLACK!

  There it was again. The android was right. Someone was throwing rocks at one of the windows. Of all the inconvenient times…

  "I'll check," grunted Falco. "It might be one of your party."

  He went to the window and peered through, but saw nothing except the visitor's shuttle parked outside.

  "Strange," he said. "Can't see anyb—"

  Before Falco could finish his sentence, the window exploded. He fell to the floor, showered with glass.

  Ade leaped immediately to his feet and was on his way to help, when a stranger began clambering in through the shattered windowpane. He was dressed in some kind of red uniform and carrying a rifle.

  "Nobody move!" he yelled in an attempt at an authoritative voice that came out sounding more like fright.

  Before he could come through, Ade was on him. The android grabbed the rifle and wrenched it from the man's grasp. With one hand Ade sent the rifle flying across the room and with the other he shoved the invader back outside.

  At the same time, the other window near Colin shattered too. He buried his head under his arms as fragments of glass rained down. Several frantic voices came from outside. They sounded like a gang of undisciplined street thugs, half-scared, half-primed, unsure of exactly what they were doing.

  "In here!" yelled one.

  "No, in there!" yelled another.

  "The door!"

  "No, not the door. Through the window."

  "Quickly!"

  "That's him. Grab him, Seven!"

  Colin looked up into the eyes of another man clambering through the window, armed and dressed in red. He looked equally terrified and determined.

  "On your feet!" he cried, grabbing Colin by his collar. He turned to the window. "Six? Are you there?"

  A woman, dressed the same, appeared at the window behind him. She began climbing in after him.

  "I'm here, Seven," she answered. "I've got the…Seven, look out!"

  Just like the previous one, this guy saw Ade too late. The android's arm was a blur and sent the man's rifle flying out of his grasp. His other arm grabbed the invader's uniform and yanked him clean off his feet. Colin slipped from his grasp and slumped back onto the floor.

  The woman in the window cried out in terror and panic-fired into the room. Red bolts of energy whizzed over Colin's head, and he pinned himself to the floor.

  Half a dozen holes exploded in the far wall.

  There was a shriek of pain…

  …a shower of sparks….

  …the sound of a slump.

  Colin looked up.

  Ade and the man were lying on the floor. Neither moved.

  Then, two more red uniforms thundered in through the doorway. Colin barely noticed them. He was transfixed on the motionless body of Ade.

  "Ade!" he yelled.

  "Idiot!" came a voice. "You could have killed him!"

  Colin felt himself wrenched to his feet. Still, he shouted at Ade and scanned the android for signs of life. The only motion came from a smoking patch on Ade's torso.

  "Sedative!" boomed a voice in Colin's ear. "Quick!"

  A moment later, Colin felt something cold press against the back of his neck, and his world quickly went dark.

  31

  Transhumanists were not fond of extraneous words. Discussing inconsequential matters to fill silence was an inefficient use of effort. For a Transhumanist, ‘small talk' meant a short oral presentation given during a scheduled friendship time (with optional slideshow).

  How odd, then, that Robbi Leet found herself beside Tyresa at the foot of a solar collector, scrambling for something to say, anything to break this unsettling silence.

  Finally, Robbi snatched at the first thing that came to mind.

  "Did you know," she began, "signal-to-noise ratios of neural implants have increased six percent since last year?"

  "Really?" replied Tyresa, seemingly just as relieved to be conversing.

  "Yes," she struggled on. "Although that's only an….erm, an average figure of course, calculated from among all Collective citizens."

  "Ah, of course, an average."

  "Indeed."

  "Yeah."

  The silence returned.

  Tyresa nodded absent-mindedly, and her gaze shifted off.

  "Well," she said a moment later, "maybe it's time to get back to work."

  A good idea.

  As they both stood, Tyresa turned and seemed to catch sight of something over Robbi's shoulder. "Wow," she mumbled.

  Robbi followed her gaze. What looked like a beige-coloured wall of low-lying cloud hung far away in the distant air. It twisted and pulsated almost imperceptibly.

  "Some kind of storm?" asked Tyresa.

  "Perhaps so," replied Robbi. "I understand they are quite common in this region. We should move inside."

  Just then, she spotted Ensign Oric running towards her from the house. Oric had been assigned to oversee Colin Douglass and the android, but the outsiders weren't present.

  "Commander!" cried Ensign Oric as he approached. "Colin Douglass requires immediate aid."

  Tyresa stepped forward. "What's wrong?"

  "He's experiencing some type of seizure," replied the Ensign. "We don't know what course of action to take."

  Tyresa was sprinting back towards the house before he'd finished the sentence. Robbi immediately went after her. Even after all this, she still couldn't completely discount that this was some kind of trick. The Ensign ran beside her.

  "Why didn't you hail me?" demanded Robbi.

  "Apologies, Commander," said the Ensign. "I attempted, but interference from the—"

  The sound of a proton rifle firing came without warning. Robbi recognised it instinctively, and training took over.

  She and Oric flung themselves to the dirt. Just ahead of them, a brief second later, Tyresa did the same. Robbi jerked out her pistol. Tyresa, probably out of habit, reached to her waist for a weapon that wasn't there.

  More firing sounds came. This time, Robbi saw the shots. Glowing red bolts whizzed over their heads. They seemed to be coming from the house.

  The three other officers, about twenty metres across the field, had reacted just as rapidly and dived into the nearest unfilled trench. It looked like Lieutenant Zillog was getting his precious uniform dirty after all.

  "Who is firing?" yelled Ensign Oric as he charged up his rifle.

  Robbi looked towards the house down the barrel of her gun. A single red-clad figure, concealed behind a corner of the building, was taking the shots. Two more bolts fizzed over the heads of the officers in the trench.

  Either the attacker was a poor shot, or this was just covering fire. But who were they and what might they be providing cover for? The likely answer came a moment later when an unmarked shuttle far in the distance swooped in fast from the south and towards the house. It was flying low, probably to avoid
detection until the last possible minute.

  Finally, the Collective Stellar Forces began to counter. Oric fired first, followed by Robbi. Their shots pounded into the wall and exploded into a veil of smoke and dust, concealing the target. The attacker's fire kept coming, darting out from the fog.

  Robbi tekpated infra-red. Her optical implant obliged, and one half of her vision turned greyscale. The house appeared almost black, while the warm smoke was a light grey mist. Behind it stood the barest slither of a white figure, hot with body heat.

  Suddenly, a piece of text appeared across a portion of her vision, spelling out in big red letters that she currently had a scheduled friendship time with Technical Officer Mojimosh. Banish it! In the pandemonium, she'd forgotten to turn off her notifications. Of all the idiotic times…

  She tekapted them off, and the text disappeared, then she took aim and let off another shot. More shots from her three comrades in the trench joined the volley fire. Finally, one of them winged the attacker. There was a shriek of pain. The white figure in the distance stumbled, grabbed its shoulder, then stepped back behind the wall and out of sight.

  It was time to pursue.

  She called towards the others in the trench, ordering Lieutenant Zillog to the house while the other two maintained covering fire. Zillog acknowledged and began clambering from the trench.

  Robbi turned to Oric. "With me, Ensign!"

  She leapt to her feet and began running. Ahead of her, Tyresa did the same.

  "Stay down, Ty!" she yelled.

  Robbi tekapted her micro-actuators, the miniature pneumatic implants in her knees. They kicked into action, and seconds later, her legs were a blur. Her machine-assisted sprint sent her streaking past Tyresa.

  The fire from her comrades in the trench kept coming, discouraging their attacker from returning. But it seemed they had had enough. There was no glimpse of the stranger as Robbi finally reached the corner of the house. She flung her back against the pockmarked wall, the remains of dust still hanging in the air. Zillog and Oric arrived a couple of seconds later and did likewise. She peered cautiously around the corner. Through the smoke, her infra-red vision saw the white figure in the distance. It had already run beyond the front of the house and was clambering into the waiting shuttle.

  With the rear of the house now secure, Robbi hailed the two officers in their makeshift foxhole and ordered them to follow. Then she heard panting.

  Tyresa had joined them at the wall.

  "I told you to stay," Robbi hissed at her.

  "Stay?" breathed Tyresa. "What do you think I am, your pet?"

  "Just wait here. There's nothing you can do to help."

  "I can if you give me a weapon."

  Oh, this pig-headed woman. Robbi gave up on her. If she wanted to get herself shot, then that was her business.

  Suddenly, Robbi heard the roar of jets. The shuttle was beginning to take off.

  She led her comrades through the remains of the smoke in time to see the shuttle slowly lurching up from the ground. Its side door was still open. The injured attacker was clambering inside, helped by several other red-uniformed people inside. Robbi yelled at them to stop, but the roar of the thrusters drowned out her voice.

  Finally, the attacker was inside, and the shuttle's doors closed. The shuttle began to climb. Robbi and her officers raised their weapons and let off a volley as they sprinted towards the front of the house. A few shots met their target but left only superficial damage on the shuttle's outer skin. It continued climbing out of reach.

  Rifles weren't going to bring it down. This would have to become a pursuit.

  Robbi ordered a cease-fire. "Oric," she said, "in the shuttle. Power up and prepare for take-off."

  She looked at the house. A couple of the front windows were smashed. Shards of glass littered the ground in front of them. The civilians!

  Tyresa and the other two officers arrived out front.

  "Zillog," said Robbi, "take those two. Secure the house. Locate the other civvies."

  The three officers dashed through the front door. Tyresa followed them, calling out Colin Douglass's name. Robbi would have ordered her to remain outside, if it would have been any use.

  Instead, she grabbed the scope from her belt and pointed it at the fleeing shuttle, ordering a scan of the craft. For a moment, information trickled in across the screen, but then the scope began to lose its lock. The reason quickly became obvious: the shuttle was flying into the oncoming sandstorm. The countless billions of whirling silicon grains encompassed it, forming a natural shield against sensor scans. A few seconds later, the craft vanished into the rolling orange clouds.

  They were as good as gone.

  Ensign Oric hailed her over the comms. His face appeared in her view, looking agitated.

  "They sabotaged the shuttle, Commander" he reported. "Port-side thruster bank. Damage is light, but the turboemitter is disabled. We can't take off."

  Robbi cursed. "Effect repairs. We must take off ASAP."

  "Affirmative, Commander."

  The channel closed, and Oric's face disappeared.

  Zillog was next to hail her, reporting the house as secure. As she ran through the doorway, the Lieutenant was there to direct her towards a ground-floor room, the one with the broken windows.

  A grim scene greeted her arrival.

  Falco was sitting on a storage container looking shaken. Blood trickled from a peppering of cuts on his face. At his feet squatted the boy, Jonn, dabbing away the blood with a rag. On the floor, among the broken glass of a window, lay two bodies. One was an unknown man dressed in a red uniform. The other was the android, Ade. Both lay absolutely still, and each had a charred hole in their body. Tyresa was leaning over her android, desperately checking for signs of functionality.

  There was one person missing.

  "Where's Colin Douglass?" asked Robbi.

  Falco looked up at her.

  "They took him."

  32

  The worst of the storm was over. It had taken only a few minutes to pass. Now there were just the sounds of dying wind and the last handfuls of sand rattling against the shutters.

  "But how in exile did they achieve it?" asked Lieutenant Zillog for something like the fifth time.

  His three comrades leaned against the wall, stewing in silence. Nobody answered. There was no good answer, apart from that a crack security team of the Collective's finest had just been taken completely unawares and bested by forces unknown. And that's probably why nobody answered.

  Tyresa went on scrabbling through the circuitry inside Ade's abdomen. It was a real mess in there. A proton bolt had burned away a chunk of his outer skin, fried a bunch of ambulatory motors, and scorched his main power cells. Though he wasn't beyond repair, Tyresa's skills weren't up to fixing this amount of damage.

  She had help. Jonn Shuffla was beside her hunched over Ade's body, wrist-deep inside the android's gubbins. The boy had insisted he could fix Ade, plunging his hands into the wound without blinking. It was incredible and a little disconcerting. Tyresa fished through the innards gingerly because it was like digging around inside a person, but it didn't bother Jonn one bit. Maybe he saw Ade as nothing but a machine—but then he hadn't given a second thought to the dead body either, now lying in the corner with a sheet draped over it. In fact, Falco had yelled at the boy to stop lifting the sheet and gawking at it.

  When Robbi entered the room, the other officers habitually came to attention.

  "Any news, Commander?" asked the Lieutenant.

  "Some," she replied. "Shuttle repairs almost complete. I interfaced with Cruiser Eighty-Nine. They were also unable to track the perps' shuttle on account of the sandstorm. But I believe I can explain how they managed to arrive undetected."

  She glowered at Falco Shuffla, who was sitting on a container, busy clothing the cuts on his face with a hand-held epidermiser. When Robbi looked at him, he seemed to shrink guiltily.

  She continued. "If everyone would like to
familiarise themselves with Citizen Shuffa's public PanJoin profile…"

  The other Transhackers' eyes twitched as they tekapted. A moment later, there were gasps and sighs among the security officers.

  "What is it?" asked Tyresa, oblivious to what they were seeing.

  Robbi handed her a slate with Falco's profile already displayed. It showed a list of posts, all of them dated from the last few hours and all angrily complaining about the invasion of Falco's property to anyone in the Collective who cared to look.

  One of the earliest posts read:

  IANAL but *no way* is this invasion of my land legal.

  A later post read:

  OMG, THEY TOTES DIGGING UP *ANOTHER* TRENCH!!! THAT MAKES 6 NOW!!!!!