The Web and the Stars

by Brian Herbert

  Abruptly the Digger coughed too, and the engines shut down. On top of the machine, Acey spat expletives.

  Part of the tunnel collapsed overhead, trapping Acey and Dux and many of Noah’s loyal followers. At a command from Noah, robots rushed in and began digging furiously, trying to rescue people before they stopped breathing. Noah and Subi climbed on top of the partially buried Digger, and used a puissant pistol to knock dirt away, causing it to cascade harmlessly to the ground. They saw the teenagers now, inside the sealed cabin. The boys pushed the door open and climbed out.

  From the rooftop, Noah surveyed the machine. A large rock had crushed the engine compartment, and the Digger would need repairs before it could be used again. As a security measure, to prevent the units from repairing themselves and going on burrowing rampages, as they had done in the past, Subi had disconnected the sentient features. It was just a dumb machine now, totally useless.

  At the front of the Digger, Noah saw through the large opening it had cut, revealing a cavern and a subterranean stream. Guardians were climbing down an embankment to the water, gathering along the edge.

  “Now what?” Dux asked.

  “Where does this stream lead?” Acey asked. “Does anybody know how far it is to an outlet?”

  Tapping buttons on his security computer, Subi tried to get information. “Nothing here,” he said.

  Acey repeated his questions, scrambling down the embankment and shouting them to the Human and robotic Guardians around him. No one seemed to have any answers.

  Noah, Subi, and Dux went down to the stream, too. Noah dipped a hand in the water. It was not that cold.

  “I’ve done some swimming in my life,” Acey said, testing the temperature himself. “Extreme sports where I had to hold my breath for a long time.” He waded into the water.

  Figuring out what Acey had in mind—an underwater swim—Noah shouted: “Hold it! You don’t know how far it is to an outlet.”

  “What choices do we have?” Acey asked, with a wide grin.

  “I’ll do it, then,” Noah said. “I can’t die, remember?”

  “And let you have all the fun?” Acey shouted. “Wish me luck!” He swam away downstream, taking powerful strokes.

  Noah dove in and swam after him, but Acey was a faster swimmer.

  The brave teenager went under, followed by Noah.

  Just when Acey felt as if his lungs would burst, he went over a waterfall into a pool of deep, cold water—outside. Noah, who aspirated a great deal of water and should have drowned, joined him moments later. Both of them took several moments to recuperate.

  Then Noah made out shapes on the shore, surrounding the water. Humans and robots. They drew closer, and he saw Guardian uniforms and colors on them. One of his subcommanders shouted to him, “We got out a secondary entrance. It’s just you two?”

  “No!” Noah shouted. “Subi and others are back there, hundreds of Guardians.” He pointed in the direction of the waterfall. “We need to break through rock and get them out.”

  “You mean with a Digger?” the subcommander asked.

  “Exactly.”

  Noah heard the roar of another Digger, and saw its hulking shape appear.

  In only a few minutes, with Noah directing, they dug back to the stranded Digger, and Noah’s squad of followers.

  Noah and Subi then led a counterattack and drove away the Red Beret forces—which outnumbered them—with hardly any resistance.

  As the battle turned, the two men watched on a remote videocam as the attackers hurried into military vehicles and drove off.

  “That was too easy,” Subi said. “Did you notice? Just before running, they were talking feverishly on com units.”

  “I saw that,” Noah said. “We’d better get under cover and regroup.”

  Chapter Seventy-Three

  No motivation is more powerful than the desire to annihilate your historical mortal enemies. It is one of the dark forces, which invariably seem to be stronger among the races than the forces of good. This does not bode well for the balance of the galaxy, which is connected to all activity and continues to erode … while the undergalaxy does the exact opposite. Our loss is their gain.

  —Report of web caretakers to the Council of Elders

  Noah and Thinker surveyed the rubble of the battle, watching as Subi, the teenage boys, Tesh, and others quickly retrieved usable weapons and took them inside the shelter of the headquarters. Medical robots tended to the injured, with most of the bots having been custom programmed a short while before by Thinker.

  As the sentient machines performed their work they transmitted signals to Thinker, reporting on the conditions of the patients.

  When their tasks were complete, Thinker passed the information on to Noah. “Fifteen dead Red Berets,” the robot leader said.

  “How many did we lose?” Noah asked.

  “Fifty-four”

  “That many?” He thought back. “But I only saw a few.”

  “Aren’t robots as important as Humans?” Thinker asked.

  “Of course. Your contributions are tremendous. We couldn’t do it without you.”

  “There are six Human dead, and forty-eight seriously damaged robots.”

  “Fifty-four in all, then.”

  “Right.”

  Noah felt considerable relief, but didn’t want to offend Thinker by showing it, or pointing out that dead machines could be repaired, while Humans could not. Except for himself. And half a dozen others, from what he’d heard.

  Soon additional information came in, this time from Subi, who rushed over and interrupted Noah and Thinker. “We took prisoners,” the adjutant said breathlessly, “and they confirmed our suspicions about Lorenzo. The attack force was under his command from the orbiter, using Red Berets stationed on Canopa.”

  “So EcoStation is more than a gambling casino,” Noah said, bitterly. “We built it and that idiot turned it against us.”

  “How did they find out where we are?” Dux asked.

  “It was only a matter of time,” Thinker said, “and probabilities. They have been searching for us intensely.”

  “This headquarters is no longer safe,” Subi said. “They’ll hit us with a massive force next.”

  Noah noticed that his signet ring was flashing colors, and shifting from sapphire to gold. The color change and pattern of flashes told him the source of a telebeam message that had just arrived for him: Doge Anton.

  Opening the connection, he saw words floating in the air: “Hello, Uncle Noah. For the sake of the MP A, I’m declaring a formal cease-fire with the Guardians, while you and I discuss ways of ending the hostilities. For your part, you must discontinue all guerrilla attacks against corporate assets, including those owned by my mother and my father. I found out about Lorenzo’s attack on you, and put a stop to it. Not that you needed my help. I just made it easier for you. “

  Speaking into a recording mechanism, Noah transmitted a response: “Much appreciated. All right, I’ll keep my end of the cease-fire. I assume you’ll see that Lorenzo does the same.”

  Moments later, he saw the Doge’s response in front of his eyes: “I’ll do my best, but watch out for his tricks. He and your sister are always plotting against you. “

  When the exchange was complete, Subi said to Noah, “We should still dig in and open up as many escape tunnels as possible. Let’s take new precautions, lay traps, and do the unexpected. I think we should also send a recon team to the orbiter and see what Lorenzo is doing there. Obviously he’s using it as a command center against us, but maybe we can get through and find out what he’s up to.”

  “The best defense if a good offense,” Noah said, nodding. Tesh approached him, a look of sadness on her face. She stood by him, listening as he and the robot continued their conversation.

  “Wearable surveillance cameras would be handy on such a mission,” Thinker said. “I’ve done repairs to a hibbamatic machine that Subi brought in some time ago, and it can produce as many camer
as as you need, tiny units that look like buttons and are totally undetectable to scanners. They’ll project images from the space station back here.”

  “As I recall,” Subi said, scratching his head, “you were less than impressed by the quality of products produced by that machine.”

  “I improved it,” the cerebral robot said. “The thing is not perfect, but it should serve our needs, especially on short notice. The cameras will project images back here just fine; they’re a simple enough mechanism.”

  Noah nodded. “All right, Subi, set up the recon mission. How many people do you want to send?”

  “Eh?” Subi was staring at Dux, then at Acey, who were only a few meters away. “I’m thinking three,” he replied. “Say, these boys have the look of Sirikan nobility. Isn’t that where you’re from?”

  “From Siriki, yes,” Dux said, “but from the back country. Our families are dirt poor.”

  “Well, I’d say a nobleman or two passed your way on vacation, and spent the night. You two have just the look I want for this mission. If you’re game for it, I want you to act like young nobles and wander around, seeing how much you can transmit back to us.”

  “Right,” Dux said, exchanging nods with Acey. “Our own little casino game.”

  Looking at Thinker, Noah said, “After you produce the cameras, I want you to have tunnels dug to the clearing where our podship is, so that we can get as many Guardians on board the craft as possible for a mass escape, if necessary. Human and robot Guardians.”

  Then to Tesh he said, “Supervise new construction inside the podship, racks to stack robots, and vertical structures to accommodate as many people as possible.”

  “That is a fine idea, Master,” the robot said, with orange lights blinking around his face plate.

  “Sounds good to me, too,” Tesh agreed.

  “As for me,” Noah said, “I’m going to meet with Anton, at the place he designated. There’s no point taking security with me. He’s proven himself by intercepting Lorenzo’s attack. Besides, I’m invulnerable, in case some of you haven’t heard yet.” He grinned. “And if I get captured, you guys can just break me out again.”

  Thinker made an odd mechanical noise. Then: “Don’t get overconfident, Master. The last time you were caught, your sister cut you up into little pieces. Don’t forget: She’s Anton’s mother, and his benefactor.”

  “Perhaps you’re right. Maybe I am being overly optimistic.”

  “At least take a squad of robots with you,” Thinker said, “to make it harder for them to capture you,” We have our own longevity, because we can always be repaired.”

  “Not always,” Noah said, “not if the damage is too great. And perhaps it is the same with me.” He chewed at his lower lip. “Very well, I’ll tell Anton I want fifty of my guards, and he can bring the same number.”

  Across the galaxy, about as far as anyone could go, Woldn felt much better, and was working to regenerate an entire galactic race. He dispatched cleanup teams to remove the floating bodies from the Parvii Fold and the connecting tunnels, and separated his surviving people into groups, with special attention to the most healthy.

  Of those who were in the best condition, he instituted an intense Parvii reproduction program under the supervision of two surviving breedmasters, to generate as many offspring as possible, as fast as possible. With a short gestation period of only a few days, the population began to increase, and reached adulthood in a matter of weeks.

  Soon Woldn was culling the best of the offspring and combining them with the best of the older adults, selecting who would be future podship pilots, and who would be trained for other important professions.

  He had the historic goal of his galactic race firmly in his mind, and it would never leave his thoughts. Maintain full control of the podships.

  One major problem existed, but he would do the best he could despite it. While he had managed to save two breedmasters, only one war priest had survived, carrying with him the secret of the ancient telepathic weapons. Throughout their long military tradition, war priests had always worked in groups of twenty or more, forming among them a telepathic seed weapon, which was then passed on to the swarms. Over the millennia there had been no need for such a powerful weapon, but the war priests had practiced their craft anyway, generation after generation, awaiting the moment when they might be called to duty.

  Now, after all of that preparation, only one of them remained, but he was the most skillful of his group, and the unspoken leader among them. This one, who went by his ancestral name of Ryall, had risen from his deathbed and gone immediately to work. “I can do it anyway,” he promised Woldn. “It will take longer, but there are still Parviis with substantial telepathic powers. I will teach them the ancient arts, and we will have the weapons again.…”

  Addressing a gathering of future pilots, the best of the best, Woldn announced, vocally and telepathically at the same time: “We’re not going to resume our podship routes until we take care of other chores first. The Tulyans will pay for what they did to us!”

  The din of buzzing and applause filled Woldn’s brain, and lifted him to a state of euphoria.

  “Soon!” he told them. “We avenge our dead!”

  Chapter Seventy-Four

  Some people should never have been born, while others should never die.

  —Ancient Saying

  Acey knew his cousin was uncomfortable in the bright, variegated cape, leggings, and liripipe hat, as Acey was himself, dressed in his own gold-and-white outfit. But the two of them looked perfect for the reconnaissance mission, like typical young lords out squandering their inherited wealth. And their companion Subi, even though he was actually a rough-and-tumble type, looked suitably magnificent himself, like a no-nonsense corporate head, or a front-line military officer with many Mutati kills to his credit.

  Disembarking from the shuttle, they stepped through an airlock onto the space station. Following a throng of gamblers, they bypassed inattentive security officers and swept into the large central chamber of the casino. Acey heard the tinkling of coins, the voices of card dealers, and the squeals of anticipation and delight as nobles and their ladies played the games. Robotic waiters passed between the patrons, plying them with gratis exotic drinks and reducing their inhibitions.

  The three Guardians split up and explored side chambers and corridors, transmitting images of their surroundings back to headquarters with the cameras concealed in the buttons of their clothing. By prearrangement, they would meet again in an hour.

  Acey was surprised by the lax security. Perhaps it was due to the gaiety of this section of the space station, or some of the guards had quaffed those exotic drinks themselves, but any red-uniformed men and women he saw seemed unconcerned and chatted casually with passersby. Waving cheerfully to one of the guards, as Acey had seen others do, he continued on his way into a corridor.

  There were restrooms down there, along with a gourmet restaurant, and numerous other rooms, many of which were unlocked. He saw gambling patrons peeking into rooms curiously and either entering, or closing the doors and leaving. He did the same. Poking his head into a small private dining room he was surprised to see Giovanni Nehr in a black waiter’s uniform, serving a well-dressed Hibbil. They had not seen him yet. The center of the red-and-gold dining table had been inlaid with the golden tigerhorse crest of Lorenzo’s House del Velli, as had all of the chair backs.

  Inside Acey’s pocket, he carried an unusual weapon that looked like a billfold full of money. Silently, slowly, he pulled it out and activated an internal pressure pad, causing the device to metamorphose into a powerful little laser pistol, with a silencer attachment.

  Feeling uncontrollable anger, Acey burst into the dining room with his weapon drawn, not noticing Subi and Dux come up from behind and try to stop him.

  In a blur of movement the Hibbil drew his own projectile weapon and fired, sending darts through the air with little pinging sounds. The diminutive, bearlike man was surprising
ly fast, but not very accurate in his aim.

  Ducking and running, the Guardians took cover behind the ornate chairs and fired laser bursts, an eerily silent battle that filled the room with blue light. Acey expected an alarm to go off at any moment, but it didn’t happen. Then he noticed signs of ongoing construction activities in the room—a couple of open junction boxes and a wire on the floor at the base of a wall. The alarm system might be inoperable in here.

  Hurling chairs along one side of the table, Gio used their cover to leap into a hatch by the window, and slammed the door shut behind him.

  “Emergency-escape route,” Acey said to Dux, firing in that direction.

  The laser bursts had no effect on the hatch. Through thick clearplax, Acey saw Gio don a spacesuit with a manned maneuvering pack attached. In only a few seconds, he leaped out into space. Firing red flames from the thruster on the MMP, he propelled himself around the outside of the space station.

  The Hibbil tried to sound an alarm, but Subi fired a laser beam into his shoulder, causing him to fall on the deck, moaning in pain. Acey ran for another escape hatch but the Hibbil started firing again, forcing Acey to duck for cover behind the overturned chairs. Subi, bleeding from a wound on one arm, crept around the other side of the table, making his way quietly toward the Hibbil.

  Seeing another escape hatch nearer to him than to Acey, Dux considered running for it. But he didn’t have Acey’s skills with mechanical objects or weapons. Acey should be the one to go.

  “Acey, look!” Dux shouted. He pointed at the hatch.

  “Go!” Acey shouted to Dux. “If you can get him, do it!”

  Coming around behind the Hibbil, Subi made a rude noise. The Hibbil whirled, but before he could fire, Acey leaped on him and hit him with a fist, causing the alien to drop his weapon. The furry little man fell back with a curse, but came straight at Acey and pummeled him with surprisingly hard blows.

  “We’re trying not to kill you,” Acey grunted, “but you’re not making it easy.”