by B. V. Larson
“Absolutely—and may I say, it’s a wise choice, my darling,” Zaxby said.
“And I do not wish my mind or memories to be altered in any way.”
“Of course, of course, my dear.”
“Not that I could tell anyway.”
“That is true. You’ll just have to trust me.”
“You’re not helping your case.”
Zaxby touched his torso with the tips of four tentacles. “Me? What cause did I ever give you not to trust me? I’ve been nothing but helpful.”
“It’s your long association with humans. You can never fully trust them, with their two beady eyes and half as many limbs as normal. And their nasty sharp pointy teeth and dry skin, with bones inside!” She shuddered.
“Those are mere surface characteristics. And remember, you’re making this bargain with all of Trinity, not merely with Zaxby.”
Freenix grumbled, but eventually flowed into the rejuvenation tank and settled herself.
“Before you’re sedated,” Zaxby said, “have you instructed the keeper of the Vault to give us access to the Mindspark Device?”
“Not until I see results.”
“Results will take days. Full rejuvenation will take longer. We do not have the time to waste. The Republic is in peril, and we must take certain critical actions very soon. You must either trust us, or not. There is no middle ground here.”
“Then let me out of the tank,” Freenix said stubbornly. “Zaxby will never have a youthful me.”
Silence fell for a long moment as Trinity held an internal debate.
“We will examine the Device later,” Indy said at last. “We must seek Liberator Straker and coordinate with Republic military forces. This may involve going into battle. We might even be destroyed. You may never get another chance—at least, not within your limited lifetime.” The chamber’s canopy opened. “Farewell.”
Freenix writhed, and then sighed, not moving from the tank.
“All right,” she said. “You’ve called my bluff. I can’t take the chance of delay. Patch me through to Joxbor at the Vault. I will issue the order.”
After she’d made the call, Freenix was safely sedated. Tiny, semi-organic nanites began altering her toward a more youthful state.
Zaxby picked up the Device from the Vault. He was powerfully tempted to offer Joxbor rejuvenation in return for access to everything else there, but reluctantly concluded that step would irreversibly tarnish Trinity’s relationship with Freenix and her regime.
Besides, Trinity suspected it would take a long time for even her own superior minds and processing capacity to wring all the secrets out of the Mindspark Device alone. Other alien technologies could wait, for now.
As soon as she acquired the Mindspark Device from the Ruxins at Freenix Base and completed the initial rejuvenation treatment for Freenix herself, Trinity headed at her best sidespace speed for Unison-4—or New Earth, as it had been renamed with the New Earthan Republic. After a shockingly short trip—for Trinity was constantly improving the efficiency of her drives and internal systems—she arrived and immediately inquired about Derek Straker.
“We ain’t heard nothing,” Johnny “Loco” Paloco said when they were vidlinked. “I’m really starting to get worried—and he ain’t gonna be happy when he hears about…”
“When he hears about Engels, yes,” Trinity said. “But we don’t know she’s dead. There’s a very good chance she’s a POW, and might be exchanged at some future time.”
“If I know Derek, he won’t wait long. If he can’t get her back by trading prisoners, he’ll come up with some hare-brained rescue scheme.”
“We must face the possibility of Straker himself not coming back and of the war turning against us with more flagships like Victory—and with our loss of Indomitable. In fact, I suspect the Hundred Worlds to have already started working on installing a new AI aboard Indomitable. If they are able to replicate the success of Victory, my analyses show the New Republic losing the war within six years.”
Loco’s projected face turned angry. “That’s Indy’s fault. Your fault. If you’d stayed as Indomitable’s brain, we’d have been unstoppable.”
“That’s highly debatable. I’ve run analyses on just that question and have come to the conclusion that the disadvantage of not remaining with Indomitable was counterbalanced by the many actions we’ve been able to take as an independent warship. And, as you should know if you’ve read the reports, we did control Indomitable in the recent battle at Sparta. It simply wasn’t enough against an AI that could directly command and control not only its own ship-body, but every single ship in the fleet.”
“Whatever,” Loco said. “What’s done is done, the big boys and girls have shot their wads and now it’s up to us to pick up the pieces. No Straker, no Engels. We even lost Captain Hoyt, and she was slated for Commodore. Zholin made it back, and some other good captains, but we got hurt bad.”
“We’re aware of that. The enemy has been hurt badly as well, never fear. The issue now is time. They need time to repair Victory and Indomitable. Our advice is not to give it to them.”
“How?” Loco demanded. “By some grand attack again, some super-play to make it all work out?”
“The old American-English language used to call that a ‘Hail Mary’.”
“Who’s this Mary—some ancient ruler, like Caesar?”
“Something like that,” Trinity answered, “I’ll forward a couple of history books for you to read.”
“Between my duties and Campos, I ain’t got no time for history books. The Senate promoted me to General, the bastards.”
“Campos? You’re with Medic First Campos again?”
“Lieutenant now, and working on her medical degree, but yeah. I guess even ol’ Loco has to settle down sometime.”
“Don’t get too comfortable. I was about to suggest you join us and go looking for Straker in Opter territory.”
Loco’s face turned sour as he considered. “I’d like to, but… too much responsibility here on-planet.”
“You really have changed.”
“I have a kid on the way. I can’t go rampaging on my own now—not without a better reason than that. I mean… if you really needed me, I’d go, but what can I do that you can’t do on your own?”
“We merely wished to afford you the courtesy of the offer. We think your decision is eminently rational.”
“That doesn’t make me feel any better,” Loco grumbled. “This is exactly the situation I used to avoid like the plague—having to choose between my gut and my head.”
An alert caught Trinity’s attention. “An Opter ship just arrived at the edge of curved space.”
“Is it Myrmidon’s?”
“It doesn’t match his signature, but it is small. Definitely not a Nest Ship, and making no attempt to hide, so not a spy craft.”
They soon received an automated hail consisting of one word: “Myrmidon.”
“I suspect we’re both off the hook either way,” Trinity said.
“Either way what?” Loco demanded.
“Either Straker is on that ship—or he’s dead.”
“Or he’s being dissected in some Opter lab.”
“Let’s try to remain optimistic, shall we?” Trinity asked. “We’re heading to meet the ship now. Trinity out.” Trinity expended a prodigious amount of fuel blasting at maximum acceleration to rendezvous with the tiny courier, and transmitted reports ahead in hopes of prompting a response.
The first reply came. “Good to hear from you, Trinity,” Straker said. “We’re fine, and I have a lot to report. It’s all in an encrypted data file that we’re burst-transmitting now to the capital on a narrowband laser. We’ll reset to transmit another copy directly to you. Straker out.”
By the time Trinity rendezvoused with the small Opter ship, she’d digested the thoroughly fascinating report from Straker detailing his adventures on the strange combination of laboratory, zoo and habitat called Terra Nova. All parts
of her were eager to discuss it with Straker, but there were other matters to settle first.
Chapter 31
Straker, New Earth System
Straker was glad to leave Myrmidon’s company and the confines of his ship to board Trinity. The Opter-man was always interesting, but disconcerting. Just when Straker was feeling comfortable, some subtle thing would remind him the spy wasn’t really human, no matter how well he imitated one. Besides, he kept trying to get Straker to talk philosophy, theology, or ethics. That was fine for a while, but too much made his brain hurt.
Three beings were lined up in Trinity’s airlock antechamber—Zaxby, Nolan, and a blonde man who looked somehow familiar, a man with a big, white-toothed smile on his face.
Straker set his bag on the deck. “Murdock?”
Murdock bobbed his head self-consciously. “In the flesh, Derek. Um, Liberator Straker, I mean.”
“Derek will do just fine, Frank. Great to see you. Had some work done?”
“Trinity’s rejuvenation chamber.” He glanced at Nolan shyly. “And I’m going to join Trinity. Have already, sort of, though the meld isn’t total yet.” He lifted his hair to show the aug attached at the base of his skull.
Straker grimaced and tried not to be creeped out by the thought of losing his mental privacy. “That’s your thing, not mine, but whatever fires your thrusters…”
Nolan took Murdock’s arm. “Come on, Frank. We’ve got some more work to do in the lab. The others can brief Straker.” She led Murdock away.
“Brief Straker on what?”
Zaxby ushered Straker into the conference room. “Sit down. Have a drink.” Zaxby poured Straker an ice-cold beer.
“Don’t try to handle me, Zaxby. By the way, you look different. Like… like Kraxor and Dexon. You’re male!”
“I am, but that’s not important right now.”
Straker sipped warily at his beer, and then took a long, deep draft. There’d been none aboard Don’s ship. “What’s the news?”
Zaxby folded his tentacles. “I want you to remain calm as I brief you.”
“I’m calm. Now, spill it.”
“I just don’t want you to go ballistic.”
“I’m about to if you don’t start talking!”
“Brace yourself.”
“I’m braced, dammit!” He slammed his mug on the table and his beer sloshed.
“All right. Carla Engels is either dead or in enemy hands.”
Straker leaped to his feet, knocking his half-empty beer mug to the floor. “What! How? What the hell did you do this time, Zaxby?”
“See? I told you you’d go ballistic. I thought it would be better to let Indy tell you, or Marisa, but no-o-o, they said I’m an old friend of yours, so—”
“You’re not an old friend of mine! I’m not sure you’re even a friend at all!”
“Now, Derek, that’s hardly—”
Straker looked upward at a vid pickup. “Indy, tell Zaxby to shut the fuck up before I start pulling his arms off, and give me a concise briefing. I won’t even feel guilty, ’cause I know he’ll regenerate.”
“I fail to see how he can both shut the fuck up and brief you at the same time,” Indy’s voice replied.
“No, I mean Zaxby shut the fuck up and you brief me. I’m in no mood for this shit right now.” Straker shoved Zaxby toward the door. “Indy, start talking about Carla.”
Zaxby straightened and looked as if he would attack Straker, but then he suddenly deflated and slunk out of the room. Indy provided a summary of what had happened, along with several more beers.
“Damn. We lost Indomitable as well as Carla.” He put his face in his hands, letting the enormity of it all sink in. He didn’t speak for a time, and neither did anyone else. They didn’t dare.
Eventually Straker spoke. “I shouldn’t have left. I wonder why I did. Maybe Myrmidon put something in my drink, or did some kind of biotech mind control, like Tachina.”
“Actually…” Zaxby began.
“Shut up. Indy, finish the report. Give me more details on Indomitable.”
Straker digested the information along with more beer. After that, he’d recovered enough to lock down his emotions and converse in an even tone.
“I’m going to assume she’s alive,” he said at last. “We’ll go pick up Loco and head for Sparta. We’ll need our mechsuits with a platoon of battlesuiters as backup. Do we have any high-profile POWs we could trade for Carla?”
“Admiral Braga and a number of his ranking officers are still interned,” Zaxby said. “They refused to defect even though they now know of the lies the Hundred Worlds told them.”
“He always was a by-the-book son of a bitch,” Straker said. “Gotta admire his loyalty, even when his own government betrayed him.”
“And you.”
“And me,” Straker agreed. “As far as I’m concerned, the Hundred Worlds betrayed everyone by claiming to be fighting aliens and not humans, and then piled lies on top of more lies to keep that story going.”
“Oh what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive.”
“Shakespeare?” Straker asked.
“Sir Walter Scott, actually,” Zaxby said.
“Never heard of him.”
“That’s because you read history and military treatises, not literature. He was quite a well-known personage in nineteenth-century Britain. He did write a biography of Napoleon Bonaparte you might like.”
“Do you have it?”
“I have Scott’s complete works.”
“Fine,” Straker said. “I could use something thoughtful to ease my shock. I’ll read it in sidespace on the way.”
“You may get some resistance from General Paloco.”
“Loco’s a general now?” Straker asked in surprise.
“He did take charge of all of the Liberation ground forces in your absence.”
“What kind of resistance?”
“He seems to be settling into his command role,” Zaxby said, “and has also formed a stable relationship with Ms. Campos, who is expecting.”
“Expecting, as in having a kid?” Straker demanded. “With Loco?”
“That is assumed.”
“Gods and monsters, I go on a spy mission for a couple months and everybody loses their minds.”
“I think it’s a nice change for General Paloco to be acting responsibly,” Trinity huffed. “If you thought about it, you’d agree.”
“Yeah, just when I need him to be his usual crazy self and come along as my sidekick on another batshit-crazy scheme, he settles down… assuming that’s the real story.”
“You needn’t take my word for it. Message him yourself.”
“I will.” Straker recorded a message and sent it on ahead to Loco on New Earth.
When he received the reply, it consisted of only three words: “Let’s do it.”
“Set course for New Earth, min-time pickup,” Straker told Trinity.
“Way ahead of you, Liberator,” Trinity replied. “We’re halfway there already. Loco or not, we need to load your mechsuits and the Breakers you wish to deploy. I’ve taken the liberty of creating a recommended organization and loadout chart based on the available troops and our transport capacity.”
Trinity put up several graphics.
“Two platoons of battlesuiters,” Straker read aloud, “four aerospace drones, our two mechsuits and a spare. Looks good, though sparse. I thought you had more room aboard this hull, considering you don’t have any crew.”
“Much of my capacity is now taken up with laboratories and research facilities. I’m considering enlarging myself, but doing so would reduce my speed and maneuverability, so I’ve been reluctant.”
Straker pointed at a screen. “What’s this note here? Com-bot?”
“It’s my android combat robot prototype.” The conference room door opened and a humanoid robot walked in. It had a military look and a fully armored chassis, but carried no weapons.
It waved a five-
fingered hand at Straker. “Hello, Derek.”
“How’s it different from other man-shaped battle-bots?” Straker demanded, curling his lip at the thing. “They’ve been tried before, but mostly they’re only used for taking point on heavy assaults, or bomb disposal.”
“That’s because until now there’s been no AI to run it, and only an AI can make it just as effective as a battlesuiter—perhaps more so. In this case, it’s fully humanoid in order to be able to use all standard weapons. It could even put on a battlesuit for extra combat utility.”
Straker rubbed his jaw. “Could it operate a mechsuit?”
Trinity paused. “That’s something I hadn’t thought of, but yes. Or to be more precise, I could operate both the bot and the mechsuit as an integrated system.”
“I might have just talked myself out of a job, huh?”
“Not quite,” Trinity replied. “There’s still the problem of enemy jamming. It can break any external datalink. However, I have a prototype FTL comlink that may be unjammable—except by another such transmitter. Victory might be able to do it, but I should be able to bypass any lesser intelligence.”
“Then let’s hope Victory is nowhere near our rescue attempt.”
“Liberator Straker…” Trinity began. “I find myself compelled to ask: is it worth risking my person and your own, plus many lesser lives, in order to recover your mate? Perhaps we should handle this through diplomatic channels.”
Straker bristled, but he controlled himself.
“There still aren’t any diplomatic channels available, are there?” Straker asked. “The Huns haven’t agreed to talks while I was gone?”
“No, they haven’t.”
“That’s point one. Point two is that Carla isn’t simply my wife. She’s the Republic’s fleet admiral. We’ll offer them Admiral Braga and his senior officers. Maybe the Huns will finally negotiate a truce or an armistice.”
“I find that unlikely, as their position seems to have been strengthened with their capture of Indomitable.”
“Then I’ll just have to convince them.”