Granger, on the other hand, was not built for solitude. Ricket had watched him over the last few days and quietly took note of his mounting problems being on board this massive mile-long vessel—a vessel with just two other people to converse with. The once confident, gregarious Caldurian had become introverted and mopey. Sergeant Toby Jackson, Granger’s overqualified delta forces security guard slash babysitter, also seemed to be struggling with the solitude aspect—but nowhere near to the extent Granger was.
Ricket had spent nearly all of his waking hours either in his lab, here on the bridge, or making repairs to the various other missing or inoperable systems around the Minian. As Ricket’s familiarity with Caldurian technology increased, his dependency on Granger’s assistance declined. In retrospect, that had been a mistake. An uninvolved Granger was a dangerous Granger.
Now, as Ricket sat facing the tall Caldurian who was pointing a pulse pistol towards his heart, Ricket assessed the situation. Where was Sergeant Jackson? Had Granger killed him? What did Granger hope to accomplish—truth was he could no longer return to his own kind, the progressive Caldurians that preferred to roam the multiverse; they certainly would not welcome him back after he’d absconded with the Minian … and the other Caldurians, the originals … they’d left him high and dry at the first sign of violence back in Craing space at the Ion Station. Where would he go?
“What is it you want, Granger?” Ricket asked.
“I want control of this ship,” he said, gesturing with his free hand to the ship around him.
“Ship repairs have steadily progressed. We are nearly done … ready to power on the ship’s propulsion system, get the drives back online,” Ricket said.
“And you’ll continue with that. The difference now is that we won’t be returning to Earth.”
“Without the help of the Minian, Earth and the Alliance will be lost,” Ricket said.
“That is unfortunate. But my own situation dictates I leave this sector with all due haste. I’ve had a lot of time to think about things. For instance, what happens once this ship is repaired? Am I to be an indefinite prisoner on this or another ship … or perhaps back on Earth?”
“That depends. Where is Sergeant Jackson?”
“He’s fine. I promise.”
Ricket waited for more specifics.
“Fine. I tagged him with a stun pulse. He’s locked in the ship’s brig.”
Ricket tried to remember where the brig was on the Minian. “I’m not unsympathetic to your situation. But I cannot allow for your to—”
Granger cut him off. “I’m quite familiar with the workings of this vessel, Ricket. I’ve changed the command protocols. At this point, the AI will respond to my commands and my commands only. I’m sorry, Ricket. I like you and I have no intention of hurting you as long as you follow my orders … which include completing the repairs on this ship.”
Ricket almost felt bad for the Caldurian. But Granger wasn’t the first person to underestimate him.
“Granger, in actuality, you have not reassigned command protocols for the Minian. You were not interfacing with the Minian’s AI, you were interacting with my own advanced nano-device interface. As long as I’m tied in, as I am, there is no user or command level exchange that I am not aware of. To make my point, you used a pass-code registration of …” Ricket proceeded to spool off twenty-seven alphanumeric characters of the Caldurian alphabet.
Granger stared back at Ricket for several seconds. Before he could say anything further, two security drones hovered into position, one behind and to the left of Ricket and one directly behind Granger. Both drones were in high-alert mode with their primary weapons dispatched.
Granger didn’t move for several beats before slowly releasing his grip on his gun and tossing it onto Ricket’s lap. “You win.”
“It seems to me, Granger, you spend an inordinate amount of time with subterfuge … trying to outsmart others. I think you could call it being a con man. Concepts such as friendship and loyalty play no part in your life. It is unfortunate and I suspect the reason you keep finding yourself in this same predicament.”
“So you’re telling me we were friends?”
“No. I don’t trust you … I never have. Friendship is earned. Friendship comes with a price, one that you would need to figure out for yourself.”
Granger snickered at that and shrugged. But Ricket saw that his words had penetrated Granger’s cynicism—how much, he wasn’t sure. “Please go and release Sergeant Jackson from his cell.”
“You have command-level interface capabilities with the AI. You can easily do that yourself.”
“Yes, quite easily indeed. But this way you have the opportunity to apologize to Jackson,” Ricket said with a smile.
Granger snickered again and stood and saw that the two drones were gone. Ricket tossed Granger his pulse weapon. “In ten minutes we’ll attempt to bring the drives back online. I could use your help with that.”
Granger smiled. “I doubt you need anyone’s help, but sure. I’ll go ahead and let the soldier out of his cage.”
Ricket watched him leave and let out a breath. Unaccustomed to this kind of deception, Ricket had been bluffing. He had memorized Granger’s command pass-code, seeing it deep within the trillions of lines of code of the AI’s core. Ricket used that same code now to login and revert the command protocols back to himself. He also reconfigured the AI to alert him to any other potential breaches of this nature in the future.
* * *
Ricket had put in a request to the Determined’s commanding officer, a Lieutenant Commander Douglas, to move additional personnel over to the Minian. The solitude situation was an easy fix, one he should have thought of previously. Within an hour, twenty-five crewmembers transferred over to the Minian; although this was not a substantial number of people, it had an immediate impact on the overall ship-wide atmosphere. Now there would be sufficient crew to man key departments including tactical, engineering, bridge/navigation, medical, as well as command and operations. But having this new crew wouldn’t do anyone any good if the Minian’s drives couldn’t be brought back online. Ricket had done all that he could, including manufacturing thousands of new parts via the phase-synthesizer. In effect, he’d had to re-engineer much of the drive technology and develop the necessary parts on the fly. In concept, it all should work, but the truth was, Ricket wasn’t one hundred percent sure it would. All this was accomplished while at the same time he stayed current on what was happening back on Earth. Ricket had not slept—had not eaten, had done only those things that would get the Minian back into the fight with the Craing. From his last conversation with Captain Reynolds, miraculously they’d destroyed the Vanguard fleet of dreadnaughts. An impossible task in its own right. But the approaching three fleets, Fleet 9, Fleet 173, and Fleet 25—comprised of no less than five thousand warships—would be impossible to defend against without the Minian’s presence there.
Ricket stood alongside Granger and one of the new engineering crewmembers, Seaman Steinway, in engineering. He was feeling dizzy and nauseous. Ricket was unaccustomed to illness. Cyborgs didn’t get sick. Even now, with his millions of internal nanites working overtime, his body was rebelling. But he’d continue to push forward or die trying.
Ricket and Steinway manhandled the thick cable into place, having connected the last of three optical power cables on the primary substrate. Ricket measured the energy levels on each with a portable test device and nodded.
“That was the last of them,” he said. Ricket turned to Granger and gestured toward the primary engineering console. “I’d like you to have the honor of initiating the power-up routine.”
Granger looked surprised. “Thank you, Ricket. I would like that.” He stepped over to the console with its now operational holo-display interface. He keyed in the start command which activated the system to initialize. Both massive drives, only the ends of which protruded into engineering looking like the noses of two Goodyear blimps, now buzzed to life.
Ricket felt exhilarated and then fell to the deck, unconscious.
Chapter 25
Jason entered the captain’s ready room to find the admiral finishing up a conversation with the president of the United States and several others—each with their own video feed window up on the integrated wall screen.
Jason walked further into his cabin and found Boomer immersed in a game. When he heard his father finish his conference call he reentered the ready room.
“What’s new?” Jason asked.
The admiral stood and stretched. “Two hours of video-feed briefings with officials from Washington, as well as with several leaders from the few remaining Allied worlds.”
“I saw you speaking to the president,” Jason said.
The admiral looked shaken. “Yes, for a few minutes there at the end. Things aren’t good. His security detail has had to move him and his family three separate times. Seems the molt weevils have managed to breach the White House’s underground bunker, as well as two other supposedly secure locations. The Capitol building now contains hundreds of cocoons … many were U.S. senators and congressmen.” The admiral made a beeline to the liquor cabinet where he poured them both a drink. “How are Nan and Mollie? Have they made it to safety?”
Jason had just ended a NanoCom conversation with Nan—she’d assured him that she and Mollie were fine, still on their way to Cheyenne Mountain, and that they’d probably make it there sometime that night. But Jason didn’t buy her act … her pretend confidence that everything was fine and that he needed to stay in space and protect the planet at all costs.
Jason took the tumbler and shook his head. “Still en route. Hoping to get to the mountain later tonight. Seems the molt weevils are multiplying at an astounding rate. It won’t be long before they literally cover every inch of—”
“It’s like that throughout North America. Hell, the entire Western Hemisphere, Jason. I know you’re worried about them. You’re probably tempted to rescue them.”
Jason didn’t answer, but his expression answered the question … of course he was tempted.
“Don’t do it, Jason. For one thing, where would you bring them? Here in space? You know what’s coming. I don’t need to tell you what our odds of survival are against those approaching five thousand Craing warships, do I?”
“What else did the president say?” Jason asked, changing the subject.
“Earth has never been in greater jeopardy—reports of the infestation down on the surface paint a truly desperate picture. While we’re up here battling the Craing in space, the general populace below is being eradicated at an alarming rate. On the flip side, we have reports that the Craing Empire itself is perilously close to crumbling. Which explains Ot-Mul’s quick departure. Jason, your bombardment of the Craing worlds’ key military and government installations accomplished a tremendous amount. Probably more than you anticipated. Things are finally changing there.”
“I only hope Earth survives long enough to see that empire fall,” Jason said.
“The problem with desperate situations is that they often require desperate decision-making. I’ve been in contact with our Mau friends … homeless now, they conveyed more discouraging news regarding Craing deployments. Hundreds of Craing fleets are moving into that sector’s star systems, indicating the Great Space operation has fully begun. The Mau are seeing the systematic obliteration of planets. It seems the Vanguard dreadnaughts we destroyed were actually a prototype methodology, one that has been uniformly replicated. Together, seven retrofitted dreadnaughts’ combined strength can atomize a planet in minutes.”
“So, while anarchy spreads among the populace at home, Ot-Mul continues his predecessor’s insane plan to continue the Great Space wipeout,” Jason said, draining his drink and slamming his glass down on the table. “Suddenly, winning this war has become more about taking out Ot-Mul than it is defeating the Craing’s military machine.”
“I’d have to agree with that.” The admiral swirled what remained of his whisky at the bottom of his glass. “The Minian will be arriving here in Earth space within the hour. Ricket has done the impossible—brought that magnificent ship back to nearly full strength. With what’s left of our fleet, along with the Minian, I think we can hold off those three approaching Craing fleets.”
“What are you saying, Dad?”
“What’s the best defense …?”
“A great offense. I know where you’re going with this. You want me to go after Ot-Mul. Read my lips: it’s IMPOSSIBLE. I’ve been to Craing space recently; I’ve seen the countless warships moored there for as far as the eye can see. And that’s not even talking about getting onto the planet itself!”
“What’s at stake is humanity itself. Come up with a damn plan, figure it out … you’ve done it before. Take The Lilly, and that same convoy, back to the Craing worlds. Find Ot-Mul and his supporters and take them out. At all costs, son … take them out.”
Jason realized Boomer was standing in the doorway. “Hey, sweetie, what are you up to?”
“We’re going back to the Craing worlds?”
“No. You’ll be staying here with Grandpa, kiddo.”
With a furrowed brow, Boomer sat down next to the admiral.
“I’m sorry, but you’ll be safer—”
She cut her father off. “I know that, Dad. I want to talk about something else.”
Surprised, Jason and the admiral glanced at each other. “What?”
“I’ve been talking to Mollie.”
“What do you mean, you’ve been talking to her?”
“Well … NanoTexting with her.”
“That’s good, Boomer. It’s time you two became closer,” Jason told her.
“Anyway, I wanted to ask permission to send her Teardrop.”
Jason sat up straighter in his seat. Why hadn’t he thought of that? “That would be an amazingly kind thing to do. They need the help. Yes … Teardrop would help keep them safe.”
“It wasn’t my idea, it was Mollie’s. She told me she figured out how to NanoText with the other Teardrop … the one they had to leave back in Washington.”
Jason recalled the recent past realms of time situation on Earth, which culminated in there being not only two Mollies, but two Teardrop drones as well.
Boomer continued: “Mollie contacted her own Teardrop and it’s now on its way to Colorado Springs. I want to send her my Teardrop, too.
“Will I stay with you, Grandpa?”
The admiral looked to Jason and saw him nod. “Yes, Boomer, we’ll be staying on the Minian when it arrives, until your dad returns.”
“Good, there’s still lots and lots I haven’t explored there!”
Both Jason and the admiral smiled but looked worried just the same.
* * *
Seated in the command chair, Jason watched as six gleaming-white heavy and light cruisers approached and came to a stop. It was the same U.S. convoy that had accompanied The Lilly on their previous mission to the Craing worlds. Now there was an additional heavy cruiser—one still painted the typical, drab, grayish-tan color. It slowly moved in to join the convoy of ships.
“The Revenge has joined the convoy, Captain,” Perkins said.
Jason had recently given his brother, Brian, the ship’s command. The ship’s previous owner, Captain Stalls, was still imprisoned within The Lilly’s brig. Jason wondered if it had been Brian who’d renamed the ship.
Two more vessels, the Determined and the Minian, arrived; the latter’s size dramatically dwarfed all the other ships.
“I have returned, Captain.”
Startled, Jason saw Ricket standing to his right. His features had changed—from those of Nelmon Lim back to Ricket’s own. He was wearing a new battle suit with the helmet retracted.
“Welcome back, Ricket. We’ve missed you,” Jason said. He watched Ricket take in that last bit of information without any reaction. He may have left his cyborg body behind months previously but it would probably be quite
some time before his interpersonal social skills evolved—if ever. Truth was, Jason wouldn’t change a thing about his brilliant Craing friend and was glad to see he was himself again.
“Captain, the Minian, as you undoubtedly have noticed, has been repaired to a level where she can traverse space under her own propulsion systems. Also, navigation, weapons, and shields are operating within satisfactory parameters.”
“Excellent, Ricket. Any problems? How was Granger?”
“No significant problems, Captain. Granger … he is a person without any loyalties … allegiances. I am not well-suited dealing in such matters; perhaps you can speak with him.”
“Should I be worried? Can he be trusted?”
“He has shown himself to be untrustworthy. I do believe there is hope for him, though, in that regard. But again, this is not my area of expertise.”
“Understood. On another subject, the Minian will stay here in defense of Earth under the admiral’s command. The Lilly, along with the convoy, will embark on another mission shortly. I want both you and Gaddy along with us.”
Jason noticed Ricket’s demeanor change ever so slightly at the mention of Gaddy’s name. “Yes, Captain, I will return to the Minian to retrieve my things.”
Ricket left the bridge as Orion entered. Once seated, she added a new logistical segment to the overhead display. Varying-sized icons represented Earth, their small convoy of ships, including The Lilly and the Minian, as well as the three approaching Craing fleets.
“How much time do we have, Gunny?”
“At their current speed … two days,” Orion answered.
“It’s no secret that the battle of all battles is coming, Gunny. They’ll need the very best on tactical. I’ll do my best to be back here before those fleets arrive, but there’s no guarantee. Take this bit of down time getting to know the Minian’s defenses … like The Lilly, she’s an incredible ship. She’ll need to be. And you’ll need to be just as amazing.”
The Great Space (Scrapyard Ship Book 6) Page 13