Alien Honor (A Fenris Novel)

by Heppner, Vaughn

  They were in the New Eden system.

  An alien had just attempted mental domination.

  The ship decelerated much harder than ordinary.

  “It sounds like the disaster has hit,” he whispered.

  Cyrus wiped sweat out of his eyes. Aliens had just tried to batter down his mind. He bared his teeth. Maybe these aliens had destroyed Venice and Roxie, but he wasn’t going to let them destroy him. He would fight to the end. First, he had to figure out what was going on.

  The alien wore a baan, whatever that was. The alien had pressed his forehead and baan against amplifying discs. Were those like the tele-ring in the sense that it increased mental power?

  Cyrus bet that was the answer.

  “Hey!” he shouted. “I need to talk to Jasper. Can anyone hear me?” He waited, but no one answered. “Hey! I’m ready to give up. Tell Jasper he can read my mind. I’ll drop my block for him.”

  It wasn’t true, but he figured that should bring Jasper running.

  Again, there was no response. He shouted five more times, but it made no difference.

  Maybe the others can’t answer. He grunted. It was the oldest lesson of his life: he couldn’t count on others, just himself. He had to act and he had to act now.

  Carefully, because of the Gs, Cyrus rolled his body to the edge of the cot. The acceleration made it much harder to breathe. If he tried walking around now, he’d rip a tendon or muscle. He pulled his underwear tighter to protect his privates, drew his knees against his chest, and tied his shoelaces. He eased a leg off the cot and worked down onto his hands and knees. This was a miserable way to travel, but caution was in order under these G forces.

  Slowly and methodically, Cyrus crawled to the portal. He hammered against it several times using the bottom of his fist. Just like before, there was no answer. He gathered his thoughts and readied himself. He would be vulnerable to another mind attack as he did this. He would need to work fast.

  One, two, three—

  Cyrus used his ability, tripped the inner portal mechanism, and the hatch swished open.

  He crawled through into the corridor. Pressed against the farthest corner was a soundly sleeping marine. The man was hunched in an awkward position. How could he keep sleeping like that?

  The answer was easy: The alien had put the marine to sleep. That would imply others aboard Discovery also slept.

  Am I the only one awake?

  A shiver of fear shot up his back and curled his gut. Jasper would have been in a weakened state after shifting. Might the alien have known that and put their telepath to sleep at exactly the right moment?

  First rubbing his eyes, Cyrus craned his neck, checking the other portals. Several had green occupied lights. He crawled to the nearest. The switch was high enough that he would have to work up to his knees.

  He used the wall and raised himself. This was definitely like using the workout machine. It was a good thing he was in prime physical condition. He pressed a switch and the portal opened. A monitor lay on the floor. His right arm lay at an awkward angle as if broken.

  Cyrus crawled in and shook the monitor. The man kept sleeping.

  “Hey! Wake up! The ship is under attack!”

  It didn’t help. The monitor didn’t even twitch. He was out for the count.

  Cyrus inspected the arm. Yeah, it was broken all right. The pain must be intense.

  He would have remained and set the bone, but he knew time was critical. Despite his hurry, he crawled at a deliberate speed and went to the next green-lit portal. He opened it and found another monitor. He found three more monitors after that, each one sound asleep.

  I really am alone. He was used to it, but just like his early days on the streets, fear ate at him. This was uniquely horrible.

  At the last cell, he found something different. Chief Monitor Argon lay on the floor with his eyes open.

  “Can you hear me?” Cyrus shouted.

  The NKV officer’s eyes shifted and focused on him.

  Cyrus’s heart beat wildly with hope. Facing danger was always easier with someone else standing with you. It made it harder to act like a coward. Argon must be in here because he could block Jasper at times. Had the monitor resisted the alien’s thoughts?

  Cyrus crawled into the cell.

  “Special Fourth Class Cyrus?” Argon asked in a dry, raspy voice.

  “That’s right.”

  “Are you simply in my mind? Are you real?”

  “You’re not hallucinating,” Cyrus told him.

  “We’re using over three Gs acceleration.”

  “I wouldn’t know about the precise amount, but I think we’re decelerating, not accelerating. One thing is sure, it’s hard to walk.”

  “Tell me the exact situation,” the chief monitor said.

  Argon had been in the brig longer than anyone else had. Likely, no one had told him what had happened.

  “Uh, what’s the last thing you remember?” Cyrus asked.

  “Captain Nagasaki drugged me.”

  Cyrus told him what had occurred after that, how Jasper had taken over the ship. He also told Argon about the sleeping marine in the corridor, the sleeping monitors, and the one with the broken arm.

  “I felt someone attempting to dominate me,” Argon said. “I resisted.”

  Cyrus plunged ahead and told Argon about his impression of the alien with the elongated forehead.

  Intensity radiated from the chief monitor’s eyes. He didn’t question Cyrus about the reality of the impression. Instead, Argon said, “We must reach the bridge.”

  “Do you know your way there?” The Teleship was big and had many passageways. Cyrus had never been in the command section of the ship.

  “Come. We will crawl there while we can. If the alien mind returns, can you defend me from him?”

  “That would be a good trick,” Cyrus said. “But I don’t think so. I can barely defend myself.”

  “Let’s hurry then.”

  “Sure. I’ll follow you.”

  Argon led the way out of the brig, crawling on his hands and knees. The giant wore the same black uniform as the day Nagasaki had drugged him. The garments were rumpled and smelly, but that hardly mattered. Argon crawled through the steel corridors and Cyrus followed. Along the way, they found several sleeping crewmembers and marines.

  Argon took a hand laser from one and buckled a belt with extra batteries around his waist. “Do the same,” he told Cyrus.

  Cyrus didn’t care for the extra drag, but he knew it was a good idea. After what seemed like forever, Cyrus’s pants rubbed through at the knees. His hands ached every time he set down his palms.

  “I need to rest a minute,” he said.

  On his hands and knees, Argon looked back at him. Sweat bathed the chief monitor’s face. “Time is critical.”

  “I understand. But if the alien mind returns and we’re too tired to defend our brains…”

  “That is rational. Yes, we will rest.”

  Carefully, Cyrus leaned against a bulkhead as he sat on his butt, letting his muscles rest. Several of his muscles twitched with spasms.

  “It’s crazy that these aliens are people similar to us,” Cyrus said.

  Argon grunted as he too rested against the bulkhead.

  “Do you believe in similar evolution?” Cyrus asked.

  “No,” Argon said. “I believe in the Creator and creation.”

  “Oh.”

  “It is strange that something like humans live in this system—if you correctly ‘saw’ him as he exists.”

  “You don’t believe I did see him?” Cyrus asked.

  “I believe the mind often sees what it wants to see. It is possible you sensed him in a manner convenient to your own perceptions of the universe.”

  Cyrus thought about that. He didn’t think it would have freaked him out if the man had turned out to be a genuine alien. He asked, “If we can’t trust our senses, what can we trust?”

  “A logical argument,” Argon
said. “Are you ready?”

  Cyrus’s hands ached and he didn’t want to crawl on his knees anymore. If he stayed, however, he’d be giving up, surrendering to the BAD THING. His lips tightened. “Let’s go.”

  They continued the crawl and found more sleeping people. None showed a flicker no matter how hard Argon shook them.

  “Gassing could have done this,” Cyrus said.

  “Then why aren’t we gassed?” Argon said. “No. The facts show otherwise. You have mind powers, a reinforced ability to block and I have the strongest concentration shield on the Teleship. It is rational that you and I are the only ones awake.”

  Finally, after what seemed like a tour of the entire Teleship, they reached a red line and a written warning: UNAUTHORIZED PERSONNEL KEEP OUT.

  “We are entering the command area of the ship,” Argon said.

  They crawled over the red line and continued to a hatch in the floor.

  “Do you know the entrance code?” Cyrus asked.

  Argon didn’t bother answering, but tapped the code in. A moment later, the hatch dialed open.

  Cyrus peered down into the bridge module. He saw Nagasaki soundly asleep in the Captain’s Chair. Below him, three officers in their chairs were also sleep.

  “Looks like a tight fit for you,” Cyrus said.

  Argon slid his feet through the hatch and eased down. As soon as his head disappeared, Cyrus followed.

  “Are you familiar with bridge controls?” Argon asked.

  “I don’t have a clue.”

  “Go to the weapon officer’s chair.”

  “Which one is that?”

  “The one to your left,” Argon said.

  Cyrus crawled past the giant as Argon unbuckled Nagasaki. The officer in the middle seat, a man with a weird set of tattoos on his bald head, snored.

  Unbuckling the officer Argon had pointed at, Cyrus stood up and pushed the man out. He tried to ease the sleeping officer’s fall, but the man thudded onto the floor and rolled away, his head repeatedly bumping against the deck plates.

  “Try to be careful,” Argon said.

  Cyrus gratefully slid into the vacated chair. It was cushioned and helped absorb the crushing Gs.

  Argon buckled himself in and began explaining the weapons screens to Cyrus. Argon turned on his screens as he continued to explain.

  Cyrus had played video games that were harder to understand. He brought up the screens, experimented, and quickly familiarized himself with the controls.

  “That must be it,” Argon said, sounding as if he spoke to himself.

  Cyrus checked his third screen. It was linked with one of Argon’s screen. It showed a silvery ball in space with many antennae. “How about we cut power to our engines?” Cyrus suggested. “I’m sick of these Gs.”

  “No!” Argon said sternly.

  “What did I say wrong?”

  “We have the element of surprise,” Argon said. “The aliens must believe Discovery is under their control. It we cut power to the engines, they will know someone has regained control. Ah, here it is.”

  Cyrus listened and watched as Argon played back Nagasaki’s latest log. Some of the video of what had occurred showed the silvery habitat and it showed a sequence of the aliens in the flesh.

  “You were right,” Argon said. “They are humanoid as you described.”

  “You don’t think they’re from Earth?”

  Argon raised his eyebrows. “That is an interesting idea. I hadn’t thought that far.”

  “It’s time we attacked,” Cyrus said.

  Argon was silent.

  Cyrus twisted around, looking up. An enemy mind hit him then, almost catching him by surprise.

  The chief monitor’s eyelids fluttered. Two muscled balls at the corner of his jaws bulged. He must be fighting the enemy. His eyelids fluttered faster, drooping more. Slowly, the NKV officer slid into unconsciousness.

  Fear welled in Cyrus. He was alone again, the last man standing against the aliens. It was up to him. He silently vowed to fight until blood leaked out of his ears, until he was dead.

  He groaned as he fought the alien psi-dominance. It felt as if hammers beat against his skull. His eyesight blurred and he crouched in his seat. Still the enemy attacked. Still Cyrus Gant from Level 40 Milan blocked.

  I have to take the fight to them. I have to attack or we’re all lost.

  Cyrus began tapping the weapons screen. Behind his mental shield, he tried to remember what Argon had just told him a few moments ago.

  Cyrus adjusted controls. An external cam showed him a main laser dome opening. The aiming apparatus rose into view.

  He calculated distances. The enemy habitat was nearly six hundred thousand kilometers away. That was practically next door in interstellar terms. The aliens must have done something to Jasper so he’d shifted to this location.

  The hammering beat against his mind shield. Cyrus found it harder to think. He pinched his inner thigh, but he hardly felt the pain. He used every trick. He was like a fish in a net, thrashing to keep free.

  The main laser had a range of one million kilometers. He could reach the enemy habitat. Working quickly, he engaged the targeting computer. It took over most of the functions as he watched.

  Human.

  It was a single thought, but it was coherent and it came from an alien mind.

  Who are you? Cyrus asked.

  We are… friends.

  The cynical side of Cyrus laughed dryly.

  We wish to avoid any mistakes, the alien told him. You must not harm the Illustrious Ones.

  Who are they?

  They are the ones who guide, who bring… value to existence.

  Cyrus shook his head. The screen to his left beeped with a red color. It was the targeting computer asking if he wanted to engage. Cyrus tapped the screen.

  He heard the mighty fusion engines thrum with greater power. The strength of the engines mandated the strength of the laser. The one-million kilometer range came about because of the size of the fusion engines.

  We are friends, the alien told Cyrus. We are agents of the Illustrious Ones. You are making an error against reality.

  Quit trying to put me to sleep.

  Listen as I explain existence.

  Explain it to your mother! Cyrus thought heatedly.

  Your unreasonableness is beyond the pale of acceptance. Therefore, you must die.

  Cyrus hunched his head. The screen showed him what he needed to know. The computer had locked on target. The fusion engines were at full power and the laser system was engaged.

  He gave a ragged laugh. Then the alien psi-bolt struck. He roared at the throbbing pain. It felt as if his head expanded and was about to burst. Maybe it was.

  Surrender to reconditioning so you can accept reality.

  “I bring you greetings from Earth, you lousy mind bender.” Cyrus tapped the screen.

  The stored power flowed through the laser coils and pumped into the focusing mirrors. In a continuous coherent beam, the laser shot out of the main dome on the Teleship Discovery. It flashed across the distance at the speed of light: three hundred thousand kilometers per second.

  Those two seconds were the grimmest of Cyrus’s life. The aliens pounded on his mind, cracking his shield. He twitched in his seat, screamed, struggled to maintain a shred of protection—and then everything changed as the alien psi-assault stopped.

  Struggling back to full awareness, Cyrus wasn’t sure he saw correctly on his number one screen. The laser had speared straight on target at the silvery habitat. The alien sphere structure was over a kilometer wide. The laser should have burned into the ball. Instead, the beam stopped several hundred meters before touching the skin of the silvery material.

  The laser continued to burn, and it inched closer and closer to the alien habitat. Then, in his mind, Cyrus heard a last wail, perhaps of agony or maybe of despair.

  Whatever had deflected the laser disappeared. The beam speared into the silvery ball. The hellish fu
ry of the laser melted the outer skin, making it molten, liquid, and causing vapors to billow and dissipate. The laser punched through and stabbed within. It burned through levels as it ignited air and caused explosions.

  With the targeting computer’s help, Cyrus adjusted the heavy laser, reaching out over six hundred thousand kilometers. He punched holes into the aliens’ ball bearing-like habitat in the asteroid belt of New Eden. Afterward, he used the laser as a saw, shearing off sections. Parts of the ball sliced off. Debris: bio-parts, metal objects, foodstuff, deuterium fuel, and water spilled out of the destroyed habitat. Soon, eleven sections of varying size drifted where the enclosed habitat had been.

  The first battle in the New Eden system went to the Teleship from Sol.

  3

  Three and half hours after the habitat’s destruction, Chief Monitor Argon called a meeting in the officer’s lounge. He recorded it as “Discovery Meeting #13.” The roster included Wexx, Cyrus, and a chastened Captain Nagasaki.

  ARGON: Premier Lang, I am happy to report that your representatives are once again in control of the Teleship. Through his courageous action, Special Fourth Class Cyrus foiled the mutiny. After speaking with Dr. Wexx and Cyrus, I have concluded that Special Second Class Jasper plotted the mutiny and manipulated the minds of the major actors. As a precaution, I have put Colonel Konev of the marines and Jasper into temporary stasis.

  Sir, we have found an astonishing situation. Aliens of close to human norm inhabit New Eden. A war appears to be in progress. I hesitate to give you the next point. Its improbability makes me doubt our senses. I prefer to let Captain Nagasaki report the first half of our experience.

  NAGASAKI: Premier Lang, I, ah, regret my part in the mutiny. I can only say—

  ARGON: Explanations are not important now. We must examine the situation as it is and come to a swift solution.

  WEXX: This is a waste of time. We must fix the tele-chamber and shift out of here.

  ARGON: Work proceeds, Doctor. The damage by your team—

  WEXX: The aliens must have induced the shift personnel to commit the damage.

  ARGON: We are wasting time on the obvious. Yes, the aliens are crafty. How they knew what to damage and then how they attained their goals is a mystery. If we can repair the tele-chamber in time, we will most certainly shift out of here. Until then, we must understand what is occurring. Captain Nagasaki, make your report. You two listen carefully and see if you can discover something new we haven’t thought of yet.