Spinebreakers

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Spinebreakers Page 26

by Mitch Michaelson


  Cyrus said, “What caused those ships to explode? I didn’t see any missiles.”

  “They didn’t sir,” Hawking said. “I suspect the message was more than a vid.”

  “Yes. Buried underneath that signal was a virus. If missiles were armed and targeted at us, they instantly treated the host ship as the target,” Steo said.

  “So they never left their pods,” Glaikis said.

  “I believe that leaves guns,” Renosha noticed.

  A number of ships moved toward the Eye of Orion. The corvette remained motionless.

  Their blips converged from all directions and were soon within range.

  “They are firing, Captain,” Hawking said. “First rounds will hit us in 17 seconds.”

  At the last moment, Steo said, “Move.”

  The Eye of Orion jumped to faster-than-light speed and every shot missed by a mile. The corvette had only moved one mile. On enemy panels, it didn’t appear to move at all. Captains shouted at their gunners. Soon they saw that the coordinates had changed a microscopic amount, in space terms.

  Another ship exploded. Its captain didn’t believe missiles were unsafe. At that point, even the AndroVault’s staunchest allies reconsidered their loyalty. They began to pull away. The destruction they’d seen was like black magic.

  The remaining ships fired guns again. No known robot or computer could calculate a safe place in the flying torrent of bullets. Yet directions kept popping up for the crew to move the Eye of Orion to safe points, and the enemy guns were useless. Steo did the calculations in his head.

  The fleet fired in a wide spread, holding triggers down.

  Seeing his new command, Glaikis shouted, “Captain that won’t work!”

  “It will work,” Steo said calmly. “Follow your orders please.”

  Millions of bullets sped through space from every angle.

  The Eye of Orion disappeared. All the fleet’s firepower passed through the space where it had been. Then the ship reappeared. Robots and navigators reported to their captains that the Eye of Orion had vanished and rematerialized in exactly the same spot. No one could explain how it was done.

  The ship had changed into tachyons, particles known to travel at faster-than-light speed, but it hadn’t moved an inch.

  “In theory, that was impossible,” Hawking said.

  “The theories are wrong,” Steo said.

  “The Tachyon Stand-still Maneuver,” Yuina said in awe, naming the action.

  Without directions from their leadership, most of the ships stopped doing anything. Two tried ramming the Eye of Orion but without coordination they collided with one another, hulls crumpling like paper.

  Space is silent, but the insides of the ships went silent too. Technicians goggled at panels, unable to explain what had happened. Officers felt helpless, unsure what to do or say. Crewmen sat with their hands off their consoles, unwilling to take initiative or responsibility. Even the most fanatical commander realized nothing could be done.

  “Glaikis, move us to the new coordinates,” Steo directed. The ship disappeared and reappeared within feet of the colossal AndroVault.

  “Dock, Captain?” Yuina said.

  “Yes. Cyrus, Renosha: I have something for you. Board the ship and get to their control room. Uninstall the tracking application that I put there. Don’t let that ship move but keep it collecting energy. Hawking: upload our entire cultural database to theirs. Everything on every known world, and every alien species, alive or dead. Governor: upload your full medical knowledge too. Yuina: I promised no away missions for you, so just hold the enemy fleet at bay. If they approach, shoot down their shields. Glaikis: map a course away from here and away from all other occupied systems.”

  “Where and how far sir?” Glaikis asked.

  “Up,” he said. “The longest trip you’ve ever calculated.” Up usually meant a perpendicular course away from the galactic plane, into deep space.

  They docked to the AndroVault.

  “Thanks for the second chance,” Cyrus said.

  Cyrus and Renosha went one direction, and Steo went another.

  Cyrus and Renosha traveled fast. By now, Cyrus really knew his way around. They didn’t hide much but headed aft and down, toward the main control room.

  They entered a long hall. At the far end stood soldiers, some with tension shields. One raised his weapon and fired. Cyrus and Renosha dove behind cover as bullets ricocheted.

  All of a sudden two soldiers appeared in the door they had just come through. The guards yanked out pistols and shot at them.

  Renosha threw himself in front of Cyrus. The bullets shredded the back of the robot’s cloak, but his hardened metal fibers protected Cyrus. Then they jumped into action. Renosha ran at the two soldiers and Cyrus followed. Using his metal staff, the robot smashed one soldier’s arm. Cyrus slid on a knee and fired, catching the other in the chest and dropping him. Then they got behind cover again. Renosha used his staff to hit the button for the door, closing it.

  The guards at the other end of the room fired and shouted.

  Cyrus started a gunfight with them. Unfortunately the ones in the lead had tension shields, large black devices capable of deflecting small arms fire. The soldiers advanced and called for help.

  “I didn’t know they still had any of those. Otherwise I would have brought my EMP gun.” Cyrus shook his head, angry with himself.

  “They are calling for more. We will be trapped in a moment.”

  Cyrus grabbed the robot’s cloak and looked up at the cold metal face. “I failed here before. I don’t want to fail again. Please, can you help me?”

  Renosha’s eyes unfocused. “Perhaps.” He lifted his left hand and flexed it. The fibers changed shape.

  A laser beam shot over their heads. Renosha ducked. He was nearly immune to bullets, but a laser could melt anything.

  “What do you think this is?” Renosha gestured with his left hand.

  “You don’t know?” Cyrus said.

  “Errr, I apologize but my memory was damaged. Do you suppose it is a weapon?”

  The fingers were curled in, revealing a hole in the palm.

  “Looks like a barrel, so try it!” Cyrus said over the gunfire and ricochets.

  Renosha waited for a gap in the laser fire. Braving the bullets, he straightened his left arm and fired a single, large bead. Before it reached the soldiers, it exploded, sending many tiny beads in all directions. Those beads in turn exploded. The soldier’s tension shields were useless against this all-around attack. They were all hit, and the room quieted down.

  “The Venge Volley System,” Renosha said. “I remember now. It seems effective.”

  “Okay,” Cyrus said, peeking over the crates. “You can call it whatever you want. Do me a favor though. If anyone shoots at us again, use that first!”

  Steo was on a mission. The crew would take care of what needed doing. He trusted them, but he had another task.

  The red disc, his light manipulator, was strapped to his leg. His little tension shield floated next to him.

  He knew he had changed. He could feel new things, and was sensitive to the emotions of people around him. When he saw someone walking, he could tell where they would turn, and if they were going to speed up or slow down. When someone looked his way, he had already bent down out of sight. When soldiers came by, he was in the passage they didn’t look down.

  Near-term time was clear to him. Like an athlete that had practiced an action thousands of times, he had great confidence in the success of the mission. However his emotions were raw. Righteous anger threatened to overwhelm him. He imagined this was what made mercenaries so violent. As they aged, they became stronger, faster, leaner, more practiced in the act of violence. It was a stimulating experience, and Steo wanted to test his new abilities. He wanted to use them to hurt his enemies. Let the punishment fit the crime.

  Nevertheless, he could still reason. The anger didn’t overwhelm him. He knew who he was. If killers deserved dea
th and he delivered it, then he deserved death. It was a futile cycle, one that satisfied feelings but didn’t serve justice.

  The theories, beliefs and rituals of the Exceptionalists were poison. This was a culture that had to die.

  Down a long hall, two soldiers guarded a door. Steo calmed his mind and reached out. He noted the locations of the soldiers, and walked toward them. They had no reaction. With the light manipulator, he projected an image in front of him, of the hall behind him.

  He stopped in front of them, effectively invisible to their eyes. They wore the usual gray jumpsuits with white bandanas, ranks on the sleeves and rifles across their chests.

  Steo was undecided what to do. He was invisible as long as he knew where his targets were, but he had no weapons. He could have brought a pistol and shot them at point-blank range.

  Cyrus appeared at the far end of the hall.

  That’s someone they’ve been warned to look out for, Steo thought.

  The guards quickly drew their rifles. The image of Cyrus ran away. Steo hoped he didn’t make it too obvious, since the image was silent. With the help of the processor, Steo had produced an exact replica of Cyrus.

  The guards ran down the hallway, chasing after the illusory Cyrus. Steo quietly went through the door and closed it behind himself.

  He moved through the ship quicker now. A sprawling room cluttered with gear and men opened before him. There were boxes piled up and racks of guns spread across the cold metal floor. Steo moved into the room carefully. It was difficult to keep track of all the men inspecting weapons and armor.

  One of them saw him and yelled a warning. The room was alerted to an intruder. They sought him out. Armed men prowled the room, hunting for him. Sticking to cover, he remained invisible.

  A guard came within inches of him but only saw a stack of boxes.

  Steo thought he had it under control but a guard saw him down a long aisle. The guard raised his rifle slowly and squeezed the trigger. The tension shield interjected; none of the projectiles found their mark. Steo was jolted by this and ran further into the room. He couldn’t keep track of all of them at once. A man on a walkway up high saw him and called out his location. Steo disappeared from his view immediately.

  Some yelled for an organized sweep of the room. Others prowled on their own.

  Steo wasn’t making progress getting out of the room. In fact the trap was closing. He steadied his nerves.

  A man saw the intruder. He whipped up his pistol and fired, clearly a hit. What he found was a dead soldier where the intruder’s body should have been.

  Three men stood in an open area, cautious and on guard. Unexpectedly, each of them saw one of the other two become the intruder. They simultaneously shot each other.

  A commander appeared amongst them, shouting where to fire. Then the commander disappeared.

  Fear made men take unsure shots. Steo’s little shield protected him more than a few times.

  Multiple intruders appeared. Men fired wildly. Some found their comrades dead. Others panicked and ran into ambushes by scared men. The room turned into chaos.

  Steo worked his way through, changing what men perceived. They killed each other when he was nowhere near. Finally he made it to the door he needed. Men still screamed in the armory. He left them.

  Lord Muuk was waving his pistol and bawling orders when the Reminders arrived.

  Doib, Reminder of Soldiers. Erps, Reminder of the Dead. Limax, Reminder of Contribution. And finally, Steorathan Liet.

  “Behind you! It’s him!” He pointed his pistol at the Reminders. In panic, they scrabbled away. A pistol fired so many bullets it didn’t need to be wielded by an expert. Lord Muuk blazed away at Steo, even using two hands. Steo fell to the floor. The room was silent. The door was splashed with blood.

  Everyone looked and saw Kinch, Reminder of Obedience, dead. A pool of blood spread from his body. The area around him was littered with tiny deformed beads. Aghast, they looked up at Lord Muuk. His eyes were wide, his mouth open. He still pointed the pistol ahead of him. His gray jumpsuit was adorned with epaulets, a rich belt and holster and rank on his collar. He didn’t understand what had just happened.

  “Are you mad?” Steo said from another side of the room.

  Lord Muuk said, “You see him!” Everyone nodded. He fired.

  The soldier toppled over dead, his face torn, but he wasn’t Steo.

  The soldiers looked at each other in confusion. They had their rifles out but didn’t know where to point them.

  Steo appeared between two of them. They fired through the image, killing each other in the crossfire.

  Scared, the three Reminders crawled into a corner, bewildered by the horrid scene.

  Four soldiers were left, until Lord Muuk saw that there were five. All were Steo. Lord Muuk didn’t hesitate, and aimed a jet of bullets across that half of the room. Several threw themselves behind tables and chairs, but two died. Neither of them was Steo.

  Steo felt sharp pain and warm wetness on the back of his leg. The tension shield protected him from everything in one direction, but the ricochet had come from behind him.

  “You’ve lost all reason,” he said. “You’re insane.”

  The remaining two guards wouldn’t come out of hiding.

  “If the other awakened find out what you’ve done, you’ll have to be punished. It’s the Old Way.” Steo moved jerkily to prevent his voice from giving him away.

  “No one sits in judgment of me!” Lord Muuk said.

  “This isn’t a meeting room. It’s a throne room. You’ve set yourself up as king.”

  “Lord! King! Emperor! Prophet! Messiah! They’re just words! Show yourself!” Lord Muuk squeezed off a burst into a corner.

  “Do the Reminders agree? Will they side with you after this?”

  Slowly, Lord Muuk turned to the three cringing men, his pistol still in hand. They raised their hands to protect themselves, though it was a meaningless gesture.

  Lord Muuk smirked and turned back to the room. “You think I care more about myself, my titles, my privileges, more than I do about the Old Ways. You think I’m stupid. That shows how little you know about Exceptionalism. The movement will continue even if you cut off the head.”

  “No. I am here to stop you.” Steo’s image appeared in many places throughout the room.

  “So you’ll continue to chase us and fight us until we destroy you?”

  “We won’t fight you. You won’t fight anyone.”

  To the Reminders, the many Steos said, “Leave.”

  They scrambled across the bloody floor. As the door closed, Lord Muuk lowered his pistol.

  The images of Steo vanished. Councilor Ulay appeared. He said to the two cringing soldiers, “I am the prophet Councilor Ulay. You are my disciples. Go forth and tell everyone what happened here and convey this message: end this war. Go!”

  The two soldiers, though confused, quickly exited the room.

  “Nice trick,” Lord Muuk said.

  The image of Councilor Ulay disappeared and an image of Steo appeared.

  “This crusade is at an end. You are responsible for continuing what Admiral Slaught started. Your ship could have been awakened and gone on its way peacefully, but it didn’t. When Slaught was killed, you had a chance to turn it around, but instead you expanded the war. I have to stop you now.”

  “How dare you judge me. Is that your closing argument?” he sneered.

  “You killed innocent people. Your absolutism, your belief that your faith is the only faith, means you will kill again. Your faith is tyranny, until war is your only belief. That was your crime, your atrocity: killing when it wasn’t necessary. You chose war and death and murder and massacre and slaughter. It wasn’t self-defense that drove you to conquer and kill. There was no imminent need. It wasn’t a last resort. Your hatred of cooperation and disdain for diplomacy amount to war crimes against all people. Voluntary war is premeditated murder. I sit in judgment of you for evil.”

&n
bsp; Because Steo could feel Muuk’s fierce emotions, he had a clear picture of the man’s mind. Steo looked into the future, along the path of Muuk’s ambition. His processor calculated what would happen if Steo took no action: maniacal, fanatical war. It was a mathematical certainty.

  Lord Muuk opened his mouth to retaliate. Steo touched his mind. Muuk felt a twinge that then escaped him. He froze, unable to give further voice to his fanaticism.

  “No. You won’t speak hatred again,” Steo said. “You’re not Lord anything anymore.”

  Muuk sat down on the floor, struggling to make his voice work. He couldn’t force out intelligible words, just rasping sounds, even though there was nothing wrong with his vocal chords. In the future he would find that he was healthy, except that he couldn’t express himself verbally and his writing was slow and hard to follow. In time there were many stories about what happened in that room – stories that conflicted – but no one trusted Muuk again.

  The image of Steo vanished.

  CHAPTER 41

  Far, Far Away

  The captain returned to his ship. Cyrus and Renosha had taken over the control room and finished their mission, then come back.

  Yuina reported that there were no mercenary or pirate ships in the fleet. They had all left. The remaining ships were crewed by awakened. They hovered a distance away, unsure what to do but unwilling to throw themselves to their deaths.

  Steo summoned everyone to the holobridge.

  “We will let the people of the AndroVault live. We can’t change their minds, but to save everyone else, we have to cast these generations to their natural death. I’m not going to punish children for the actions of their parents. They can live out their lives on board the generation ship. Maybe their great-grandchildren will think differently.

  Glaikis has set their course away from the galactic plane, into deep, deep space. The AndroVault will fly for a long time. They can’t stop it. They have no control over the direction the ship flies. Everyone will be awakened. Since the awakened can’t go back to sleep, they have about 237 years before they could possibly return to this galaxy. No one alive on the ship today will ever be near another civilization.”

 

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