ARMS Beckland's Fall: (Book 5)

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ARMS Beckland's Fall: (Book 5) Page 4

by Stephen Arseneault


  "Let's make that happen, Mr. Morgan. I'll happily transfer all the credits you need to expedite the process."

  "I'll have a plan ready ASAP."

  Gandy walked around the smaller Banshee. "You've cut a few corners. She looks sleek and fast now. Modern. How many can we fit in the Hailstorm's docking bays?"

  One One said, "If the parameters for the bay can be delivered to my comm., I can answer that question."

  Harris replied, "I have that data. One moment."

  "Eight per bay."

  "So thirty-two total. Hard to imagine we could be flying up to a Ratoon with that kind of firepower."

  Gandy remarked. "And you only need the one shield in front of the Hailstorm to protect them all."

  Tawn shook her head. "Maybe the colonel was right in that we could use more of the freighters. Imagine the swarm of Banshees we could release from a half dozen of those."

  Harris turned to Bannis. "What are the chances of rebuilding a freighter line?"

  "You'll lose a third of your Legion production. That's on top of what we're cutting today."

  "Tawn? Your thoughts?"

  "Let’s get a dozen Legions in the bag first. After that we can reevaluate."

  "There you have it, Mr. Morgan. Looks like we have a plan. Hold up your account bracelet if you would."

  Harris pushed a half billion credits across.

  "Whoa. That's excessive."

  "Use what you need. You can give the unused ones back later if you feel so inclined."

  "Never was one to like holding other people’s money, Mr. Gruberg."

  "For the moment, just consider it our money."

  One One said, "Sir, there are dozen warships rapidly converging on this location. They are Domicile ships, sir."

  Harris pointed at the door. "Take yourself out. Evade those ships, do not fire on them. I repeat, do not fire on them. If you find you can't escape, then move to a safe area and self-destruct. Do not allow yourself to be captured."

  With another whoosh of air, the group found themselves again on the floor.

  Harris shook his head. "Gotta change that programming."

  The Biomarine activated the emergency retrieve button on his comm bracelet as he stood. "Gotta go, Mr. Morgan. We'll be in touch."

  The Bangor powered up, lifting up and over the headquarters building before settling on the concrete deck between the two structures.

  Harris pointed at the double doors. "We’d best be running."

  They boarded the ship and closed the hatch. The modified freight-shuttle turned into a fireball as it raced up through the Domicile sky.

  Tawn cinched her belt tight as the nav display showed the Domicile ships landing around the Hosh-Morgan complex. "What do you think that's all about?"

  "I'm guessing Mr. Morgan has a DDI mole in his ranks. Someone must have notified them of those test results. Too coincidental for anything else."

  "They would have seen that ship rocketing out to space and back."

  "Doubt they would care about something the size of a personal flyer, but they're here, so they care about something."

  Tawn said, "We have such a speed advantage. And we need to keep in mind the Earthers now have that too. They'll be able to run circles around Domer ships once those have been installed. Should we be giving the same advances to our own military?"

  "That's open for debate. At the moment I'd say no. The Earther threat is minimal right now. If that changes, we'll definitely have to consider it."

  "Uh oh," Tawn said. "I have a ship following us out. No identifiable signature."

  A comm request came in. "Mr. Gruberg, looks like I might be joining your team."

  "Mr. Morgan?"

  "Yes, sir. I'm in the other Banshee. Thought it not a good thing for the DDI to have. My engineers are busy dumping all our tech in the smelter. As a precaution for this very scenario, I had the assembly area organized for a quick cleanup. Unless something goes wrong, there won't be any physical evidence of this ship."

  "This puts you on the run from the DDI now."

  "Not necessarily. The planted story is this flyer belongs to an unknown client who was seeking work from our lab. My engineers and researchers don't know where he came from or where he's going. He was inquiring about upgrading his ship's power plant. And now he's gone."

  Harris chuckled. "You really think they'll buy that?"

  "Would an almost ninety-year-old man speeding out in an unsanctioned war fighter be a better story?"

  "I suppose not. So what's our plan from here?"

  "We head out to the factories. You can take the Banshee. I'll stay at the factory, where I have business."

  A run to free space was followed by a jump to the Retreat.

  Harris pulled the Bangor to a stop. Bannis Morgan pulled alongside. "That doesn't look good."

  "I was afraid of this, Mr. Gruberg. We were building warships, which is not exactly lawful. Actually, I'm surprised they've allowed it to go on this long. Even though the railgun installs are happening elsewhere, the purpose of those ships remains the same. Has to be twenty destroyers parked there."

  A general hail came over the comm. "This is Admiral Tonady of the Domicile Defense Force. You are hereby instructed to turn yourselves over for questioning."

  Harris replied, "Sorry, Admiral. We're free citizens. Until there's a warrant you have no cause for arrest."

  "You're correct, Mr. Gruberg. Only, a warrant was issued this morning. However, I've been instructed to not make use of that warrant should you cooperate with this inquiry. We aren't your enemy, but we are the sworn and authorized defenders of the free worlds. Construction of warships falls under the Bardis Act. With these factories you are in violation of that act."

  Bannis replied, "The Bardis Act? Never heard of it."

  "It was passed in the senate this morning and signed into law by the president. These factories are hereby seized for violations under that act."

  Bannis opened a private comm. "I think we've already lost this fight, Mr. Gruberg."

  Tawn said, "We have another ship incoming. It's the One One."

  "Sir? May I be of assistance?"

  Harris shook his head. "Not sure what you can offer, but thanks. Wish we could have pulled those Legion ships out before this happened."

  "Sir, those ships are parked nearby. Colonel Thomas and his crews are in command. The Hailstorm and four Legion ships are waiting in free space."

  "Can you take us to them?"

  "Transferring the coordinates now. Sir, what are my orders?"

  "Stick with us. For the moment we're going to talk to the colonel."

  "Mr. Gruberg," said the admiral, "I would advise you to heed my request. The president would prefer this be voluntary, but we will make use of force if called for."

  "No thanks, Admiral. I think this is where we part ways. Good luck with your inquiries."

  The group sped off, jumping through a wormhole to the coordinates provided.

  The colonel opened a comm. "We're in a mess, Mr. Gruberg. The DDF ships came through while we were out getting in some practice. Wasn't about to turn these over to them."

  "I don't see any of the Centurions. Are they back at the factory?"

  "Wasn't any need for them today, so we left them behind. I have to apologize for that. It was my decision."

  Harris said, "You couldn't have foreseen this."

  "I have about a hundred fifty crewmen out here with me. Is there enough housing on Midelon to support us all?"

  Tawn shook her head. "We have bunks for the five of us and enough food to last us six months. This crowd comes back and we can feed them for a couple weeks."

  Harris said, "Colonel, follow us to Midelon. We’ll leave the ships there. We can bring you back on shuttles. Does the DDI know you're flying these?"

  "Not to our knowledge."

  "Then we go with that and play it by ear after."

  "Any idea as to what brought this on?"

  Harris shrugged. "Don't
know. Could be those factories, or it may have been these Banshees we just made. I doubt we'll find out anytime soon. Follow us out. Maybe we can get you back to the Retreat before they know you're gone."

  A wormhole was opened to Midelon and the ten ships passed through. The mini fleet followed the Bangor down to the surface. The colonel's crews stepped down to the ground, looking at the grassy fields surrounding them and commenting on the perfect temperature.

  Harris pointed at the shuttles. "Trish, Gandy, we need pilots. It will take you a couple trips to get them home to the Retreat. Try not to draw attention and you should be able to drop them without issue. Colonel, you have to be on the first shuttle. We need you home and safe."

  The crews were divided between the shuttles, with two trips planned. As the first loads left the ground, Bannis Morgan hobbled over to stand by Harris and Tawn.

  "Moving slow, Mr. Morgan," Tawn said.

  "Hips are gone. They served me good up until a few weeks ago. Doctors said they need replacing. I just didn't have the time to go through that."

  Harris said, "Wish I could help, but our medical abilities here are limited. We've been jumping to the Retreat for anything serious."

  A comm came in from One One: "Sir, do you have any further orders for me?"

  "Just put yourself in the idle state or whatever you want to call it. Might as well conserve fuel."

  "Yes, sir. Suspending operations now."

  The comm closed.

  Bannis said, "I would assume you have somewhere an old man can sit?"

  Harris waved. "Follow me. You eaten yet?"

  "Had a light breakfast."

  "Come on. I'll get you set up with a place to relax and get you something to eat."

  As they entered the supply hut, an image of Alex popped up on the wall. "I see we have guests today."

  Harris nodded. "We ran into a bit of trouble with the DDF. Trish and Gandy are taking the colonel's crews back as we speak."

  "Who's this?" Morgan asked.

  "Bannis Morgan, this is Alexander Gaerten. Or at least it was at one point. This is an AI constructed by Alexander Gaerten."

  "Welcome to Midelon, Mr. Morgan. I've heard much about you."

  "Hope you don't hold it against me. Anyway, good to meet you too. Now, is there a place I can sit?"

  Harris chuckled. "Over here. This chair is a favorite. Can I get you an MRE and a beverage?"

  "Sure."

  "What brings you to Midelon, Mr. Morgan?"

  "On the run from our misguided government. Just like these people."

  "I see. Will you be staying long?"

  "At the moment, I would say that's likely. Who was it you said you were?"

  "I am an artificial intelligence program created by and patterned after the esteemed Dr. Alexander Gaerten."

  "Gaerten. Never heard of him."

  "The doctor was one of the original colonists from Earth. As a chief scientist, he had access to this facility. May I call you Bannis?"

  Harris said, "Hold on, doesn't he have to answer a few thousand questions before you accept him as a friend?"

  "His status comes with your recommendation, does it not?"

  "Well... yes."

  "Then he is confirmed as a friend."

  Harris rubbed his forehead after handing an MRE to Bannis. "I guess after this we can take you into the facility and get you started. Very likely you'll be here for some time, and we'd very much value your input on what we have going here. You get annoyed when people ask you too many questions?"

  "I am at the moment."

  Harris chuckled. "Well, prepare to be pushed to your limits. First, let me tell you about this facility. It emits a boson field. There's an identical planet in Earther space. Neither one allows wormhole travel around them, but they're both required for us to be able to jump to where we can.

  "Our known space ends with the edge of the generated boson field. With our wormhole generators, we can jump anywhere in that space except for these two planets. We're only able to travel here because of our dog. Farker allows us access to this planet."

  "Interesting. And why was travel limited as it is?"

  Harris shrugged. "We don't know. This facility is run by the AI. We only have access to certain levels, and those levels have to be earned. There's a lot going on here we don't have a clue about. And yet at the same time we probably know more than most scientists and researchers back on Domicile. Such as, in this facility is an archive containing much of the history of Earth and how we got here. None of that have I ever seen on Domicile."

  "You have a history of Earth here?"

  "And it's extensive. All the way up to when we came through the wormholes to Domicile and New Earth. Fairly complete backgrounds of who we are and why there are two separate empires, the New Earth Empire and the Domicile free worlds. What we don't know is why we're being slow-rolled on full access to this facility. It's almost like we're getting a full psychological examination."

  Harris chuckled. "That AI probably knows more about us than we do."

  When the meal was finished, Harris assisted Bannis with the move, setting him in front of the table in the main room of the bunker.

  An image of Alex appeared above the table. "Hello, Bannis."

  "Hi, I guess."

  The AI went on to give the elder businessman the speech about the facility and why it was protected. Twenty minutes into the talk, the door to the next level opened.

  Alex gestured toward it. "Please, Bannis, make your way to level two. You will be seated in a simulator where various scenarios will be used to evaluate your temperament. Should you pass the tests put forth, you will be allowed access to the level beyond."

  Harris protested. "Twenty minutes? It took us days."

  "Yes, but I have a recommendation from a trusted source. Given your prior evaluations of his actions, and your recommendations, I felt the in-depth questioning of level one was not necessary. Is there an issue I am missing?"

  Harris sighed. "No. He's a good man."

  Five minutes later, the simulations for evaluating the decision making of Bannis Morgan were begun.

  — Chapter 5 —

  * * *

  The simulator pod opened after fifteen minutes.

  Harris asked, "Something wrong?"

  "Nope. The AI told me I was through to level three."

  Harris growled. "That's not fair. It took us days to get through there."

  Bannis shook his head as he wobbled toward the door to the hall. "You're complaining to the wrong cat, Mr. Gruberg. I'm just a participant here. I'm not putting on this show."

  Another twenty minutes was spent at level three, the intelligence and wisdom of Bannis Morgan were determined to be without question.

  As Bannis sat in a room with a display, an image of Alex flashed in front of him. "Welcome to level four. Here you will be shown a history of Earth and how Humans came to be in this sector of the galaxy. Harris, you may want to go about anything else you have to do of importance. This will take much longer than the previous levels."

  Harris patted Bannis on the shoulder. "Give me a comm when you're done or ready for a break. I'll come to collect you."

  Harris walked the hall to the next level and then beyond, coming to a stop in the lab. The five bots were moving about, furthering their mission.

  Harris stopped behind Idiot. "What's our status?"

  "We are having difficulty replicating the precision of the original processor bench. The tools we have available are not adequate. Boomer and Emily are attempting to construct new ones, however. Five attempts have all ended in failure."

  Harris smirked. "Would have thought precision would be right down your alley, as they say."

  "As who say?"

  "People. It's just an expression. Means it's something you would be expected to be good at."

  "We are again dealing with molecular levels, similar to what we saw with the Denzee weapon."

  "You have those designs stored away?"

>   "I do."

  "Scrub those from your memories when you’re done here. Same goes for the rest of you bots. All references to the Denzee superweapon should be removed from your memories. We don't need any of you getting captured and that info extracted. You don't need that info, so you shouldn't be carrying it around. Same goes for the specs on our ships. You don't need those to function. Having them is an unnecessary liability. Understood?"

  "Yes, sir. All references to designs of this facility, the Denzee weapon, and our ships, will be purged when we again leave this facility."

  "Good," Harris said. "How's the next processor unit coming along?"

  Idiot replied, "Almost finished. Which of us would you like it to be cloned from?"

  "For the time being, no one. We've had a bit of a setback with our ship production. It's been confiscated. So we don't have anywhere to put this next unit. But keep cranking them out. I'd like to have a stockpile ready if we figure out a use."

  Harris stopped for a moment, staring at the bots as they worked. "Alex, I have a question for you."

  "Yes, Harris?"

  "I have Bannis Morgan here. He's old. His hip joints are failing him. Would it be possible to make a set of leg braces that would function as assists for him to walk? Something lightweight and powered if possible?"

  "I have ample data on the Human form. However, for a best fit, would it be possible to bring Bannis to the scan room?"

  "You're the one in charge of access to the different levels, you tell me."

  "I see. I would like you to bring Bannis to the scan room, please."

  Harris chuckled. "Now you see what I've had to endure. I can't phrase things as a question and expect you to take action. Kind of a pain in the ass, isn't it?"

  "Literally no, as I do not have an ass, but I comprehend your meaning."

  "I'll bring him to the scan room." Harris turned and stopped. "If this works, we might make it into a business back on Domicile. An assisting unit would have to be preferred over those scooters."

  "May I ask what malady impairs Bannis?"

  "He's old. When Humans get old, our bodies deteriorate. Senescence or some nonsense like that. We get bone spurs or our joints swell. It can be a complicated mess."

  "I see. I do have a complete archive of the medical procedures performed on Domicile. Perhaps a hip replacement is in order?"

 

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