Darklight Pirates

by Robert E. Vardeman

  "You must kill Kori Tomlins quickly, before she picks up the reins of power."

  "And her daughter, too?"

  "Yes!" The word came out like steam released from a boiler.

  "That might not be our best tactic. Both can be useful to kill your father and brother." Riddle waited for the response. It came after a small gasp.

  "What do you mean?"

  "Come now, Ebony," Riddle said, enjoying the superiority he felt now at coming to the proper conclusion, "who else would know so intimately the inner workings of Tomlins' Programmer Generalship? You initiated the attack on your parents. Do you hate them so?"

  "Yes!" Again the hissing. This time Riddle imagined it was more hatred than steam.

  "You know the accord I reached with Kori─your mother."

  "She'll try to kill you. Once that sniveling little bitch Bella puts on the control helmet, you are dead."

  "I don't think so."

  "Why not?"

  "I have you to advise me. When I get what I want─and you know my ambitions─then you can do whatever you like with your mother and sister."

  "You want to rule Ballymore."

  "I want so much more. You can have the planet. Use your mother and Bella to conquer Uller and Eire, build the fleet and let me find other planets. Ballymore will be yours. They won't know what happened. They think you are dead, after all."

  "I don't want the planet. I want revenge for how they treated me."

  "Have your revenge, and have the planet, as well. It won't be for too long, I assure you, unless you remove your worst enemies quickly."

  "My father and brother?"

  "Let Kori deal with them for us. It might work out that the citizens are outraged that their heroic Programmer General is murdered by his wife. That gives you a chance to become Programmer General. You can run the Blarney Stone, can't you?"

  "You know I can."

  Riddle smiled. He had detected someone meddling with the basic algorithms that drove the computer. While his skills were minuscule in comparison, he had resources Ebony Tomlins knew nothing about.

  "We agree, then? Patience is our watchword. Let's use Kori and Bella to destroy your father and brother. We use them to further our own ambitions off world. When my fleet is powerful enough and a planet or two have come under my sway, I will leave them to your gentle mercy."

  "I have no mercy for them."

  Riddle hadn't thought so. It took great hatred to fake her own death, then watch Burran fall apart, all to kill her family. He began running the scenarios through his tactical computer to prepare for the briefing he intended to give Kori, showing her how to kill her enemies. The very first battle plan gave a 95 percent confidence level of succeeding. Why run other plans? But he did, just to satisfy himself that Donal Tomlins had no chance of escape.

  Chapter Thirty

  "Two more traders scared away," Cletus Tomlins said, staring at the chart of space around Ballymore that had arrived by Lift message capsule that morning. He knew the reports by heart. They differed only in detail from a half dozen others. The Shillelagh had become proficient at interdicting trade with the rest of the galaxy, shutting off the planet. That wouldn't cripple the economy, but it caused unrest.

  For the moment. Eventually they would create enough dissent between the merchants and off-world entrepreneurs to dislodge Weir. He knew it was a long-term strategy, but he chaffed at the lack of real movement now. Being in command of the Belfast took him out of the real fight back home. Refitting the cruiser at Scrutiny was a necessity if he was to reinforce the pirate fleet. A wry smile faded when he knew that two ships hardly constituted a fleet, even if both were equipped with the darklight energy batteries and weapons a dozen years in advance of what Burran could field against them. But he had been stuck on Scrutiny for what stretched into an eternity as those modifications were made. At least his father─or had it been Leanne?─Had decided not to launch the Shillelagh against Weir immediately. Better to have both cruiser and dreadnought ready for battle. The turmoil on-planet was not going to diminish, not with Weir increasingly using AI modules to deal with the worst problems rather than relying on his own instincts as Programmer General.

  "Another two weeks."

  Cletus looked from the HUD chart with all the battle intelligence sent by his father to reassure him all went well to a vidscreen where Doctor Germain peered down at him, larger than life.

  "Has the darklight radiation turned you into a telepath, Doctor?"

  "That's a skill I don't need. When not supervising the Belfast project, you spend all your spare time going over reports from Ballymore. I saw the report that a new capsule arrived. That makes six since you docked."

  "I'm too obvious. That's not a good trait for a strategist."

  "Your skills lie more in tactical situations, from what I see. You miss her, too. I can tell. Did she send a personal message along with the sitrep from your father?"

  Cletus stiffened. The scientist didn't have to be a mind reader to know Cletus grew increasingly upset that Leanne had remained with his father instead of coming to Scrutiny with him. He missed her, but a touch of anger entered that longing. He felt abandoned, as he often had by his family growing up.

  "What is your appraisal of Captain O'Malley? Is he learning the new systems?"

  "He isn't as quick a study as you, Commander, but he knows his ship and appreciates the added capabilities. I might suggest you leave him in command of the cruiser and accompany him as fleet admiral."

  "Are you saying his loyalty is wavering?" Cletus didn't like the implications. If O'Malley went rogue or, worse, defected back to Weir's forces, the batteries would be turned against the Shillelagh. No one could reproduce them without the TZO radiation and the special collectors on Scrutiny's sunward side, but knowing Scrutiny even existed would be a serious breach. Finding it wasn't likely, but every crumb of information lost eroded his─his father's─chance to regain Burran.

  "He is a proud man. Give him a chance to serve you, and he will not disappoint. I have seen many similar situations since becoming Chief Scientist here. Once bruised, egos take a long time to heal. It is better to never do damage in the first place. Use talent wherever you find it. Officers such as your captain may surprise you with the heights they can attain."

  Cletus heard the advice and still considered removing O'Malley from command and stranding him on Scrutiny for the rest of his days. Germain might use the cruiser captain in the scoopship fleet mining the gas giants or even put him on a dartabout supplying the accelerator ring around the planet. He wished he had the Shillelagh's captain, Sullivan, here. She had shown herself able and loyal. Still, giving O'Malley the chance to similarly gain honor in the Programmer General's service appealed to him. He had become too skeptical of others since the coup.

  He glanced at the chart again, wondering how his father and Leanne fared. How did Leanne fare? There hadn't been so much as a scribbled note to him with the battle reports, much less a lengthy video.

  "Alert me if he shows any sign of not being the officer you believe him to be."

  "I'm a scientist. I deal with the universe." Germain coughed and shook his head sadly. "Humans are far more complex than the mathematics I use daily. But I will watch him as he works on the cruiser. Not for nothing have I kept this planet filled with scientists and engineers productive for all those years. I know something of human dynamics, though I prefer measuring darklight radiation and finding new ways to use it."

  "The batteries for the Belfast are charged?"

  "Charged and ready for installation. What is taking the most time is rewiring the laser cannon to prevent overload when the more powerful energy surges are dumped into the solid state lasing crystals."

  "I saw a report from a basic science team saying you are growing single crystals in darklight energy fields that can take the energy density during lasing."

  "A complex experiment, but one with great promise. The crystals seem to exist in more than our usual dimensions." G
ermain sucked on his teeth, lost in thought. "That ass Herkimer thinks the darklight energy itself exists in multiple dimension, but his math is suspect."

  "Like StringSpace?"

  "The portion of the crystal lattice not in our usual dimensions doesn't propagate at light speed. Why that doesn't happen is part of the experimental study. I have found ancient earth papers dealing with Alcubierre causality that─"

  "Doctor." Cletus glanced from the vidscreen to his reconstruction of the Shillelagh's last encounter. "None of this makes any sense to me."

  "You are so right, Commander. Apologies. This will be more to your liking and something to school Captain O'Malley in. My rough calculations show such a lasing crystal in your weaponry gives five orders of magnitude more energy in the beam. With a dreadnought-mounted laser cannon using this, it's possible to boil off a planet's atmosphere."

  Cletus' eyes widened. He had not realized the cruiser would carry such powerful armament.

  "Another world killer weapon." German sighed. "Such power can be used for other purposes, but I understand your eagerness for it to be deployed."

  "The only planet of interest to me is Ballymore. Destroying its atmosphere is not a goal. I am more interested in how you are coming with reverse engineering the warbots."

  "We recorded all we could when the Shillelagh was ported here. With the darklight batteries powering such a fighting machine, heavier armor and armament is possible. Increased speed, range, lasers, our version will be greatly improved over the Far Kingdom designs."

  "I wonder what Leanne would say about that."

  "She has the two Far Kingdom warbots aboard the Shillelagh refitted with the batteries and new armor. What was her reaction to them?"

  Cletus wondered. She had avoided commenting on the fact that those two units were more than a match for even the heaviest models Far Kingdom produced. His own calculations showed the two, working in tandem, outclassed ten of the warbots without the updated power and armor.

  "Will our model be ready to put aboard the Belfast when I return to Ballymore?"

  "There might be some adjustments required if final testing is skipped. A few techs can accompany you and work on it since you aren't intending to use the warbots on-planet immediately, are you?"

  "I am planning on joining the Shillelagh in interdiction for a few weeks. If we capture enough ships and assemble a real fleet, then is our best chance to use the warbot in an attack against the capital."

  He had worked through a tentative battle plan. Bombardment from space was out of the question since too many civilians would die. The space station had to fall quickly, without much damage done to it. Then the real fight began. Precision strikes, pinpoint targeting against ground troops, use of the warbot, that would crush resistance and gain access to a control helmet linked with the Blarney Stone. His father could cut off supplies to the military then and end the conflict quickly.

  "I need to return to my experiments. I will keep you─wait. Are you getting the feed from another message capsule?"

  "Another? But I just got one. It's difficult sending them. This must be an emergency!"

  Cletus adjusted his HUD and brought the encoded message into view. A few quick blinks verified his identity and started the decryption. He slowly got to his feet.

  "I'm not sure this is accurate. The capsule came from my father?"

  "All the proper challenge codes were answered."

  Cletus read the message again, emotions battling within him.

  "There has been another coup in Burran. Weir is dead, and my father is returning to take over as Programmer General again."

  "That's excellent news, Commander. It means Programmer General Tomlins is one again in charge of Burran. I must let the others know. They worried that this civil war would affect our contact with Ballymore."

  The thought that rose to the top of Cletus's mind was an outraged, Without me!

  Chapter Thirty-one

  "It is too dangerous. Wait. Wait for Cletus to bring the refitted cruiser and─"

  Donal Tomlins waved Leanne to silence. He settled the spidery legs of the control helmet into place on his scalp and leaned back in the captain's chair. Momentary dizziness passed as he meshed his brain with the electronics in the Shillelagh. A feeling of expansion, of soaring to the limits of the universe seized him when he ventured further, using the dreadnought's computer to touch the Blarney Stone. Again he felt the throbbing pulse of a nation─a world!

  He closed his eyes and probed deeply. Weir's meddling amounted to little, or so it seemed at first. The more he examined the intricacies of the Blarney Stone's programming, queried the logs and examined the registers, the more changes he found. These were subtle, careful, thoughtful. It was as if Weir started with a stone chisel and then had switched to an atomic force microscope to make these alterations. Donal skimmed over them, ordering the algorithms he had sequestered to return the machine to its functioning before the changes. Even as he slipped away from the heart of the computer, he saw how allocations changed throughout Burran. Supply would be restored in days, if not hours. He needed to run projections to see the effect of this reallocation, but it had to derive better results than Weir had obtained trying to quell rioting and insurrection.

  "I've cut off the military supplies for the time being. That will keep them in check, though they can use their emergency stores for some time. You worry for no reason, Leanne. I've even deactivated the AI modules Weir installed, though they might reach deeper into the heart of the Blarney Stone than it appears from my quick survey. I don't think any of this will be a problem for me regaining full control."

  "It cannot hurt to let Cletus join us with the Belfast."

  "I know where the High Guard ships are. We're in no danger from them." Donal smiled as he removed the control helmet and placed it down gently in its cradle. "Most of the commanders remain loyal and welcome a return to the old ways. Even Admiral Lamont has yielded his command to me."

  "The way it was when you were Programmer General?"

  "That seems to be the case," he said, nodding. "I appreciate your concern, but this isn't a trap. I examined Weir's remains. He is dead. Very dead." He licked his lips and tasted blood. Leaning back, he gripped the arms of the chair so tightly his forearms began to ache. Only force of will let him relax. The sight of the pieces left of Goram Weir would haunt his dreams for the rest of his life. The force of the explosion had mangled the body almost beyond recognition.

  Almost. The wide-eyed fear remained on a face curiously untouched by the blast that had turned the rest of his body into gory pulp.

  "The timetable for the Belfast might be shortened. With both it and the Shillelagh in orbit, you can guarantee your safety if you choose to return to the capital."

  "I'm going down now. Give me credit for some sense. A diagnostic of the Blarney Stone shows how Weir altered the programming. That is being reversed. I have searched every surveillance camera record for a hint of alteration. The coup is over. Weir is dead and those who supported him have been quashed."

  "Not Riddle. He was the architect of your overthrow."

  "So say your mathematical scenarios. Correlation isn't causality. He joined Weir for his own reasons, and they are obvious. Riddle controlled the military, even as he remained loyal to me."

  "My calculations say otherwise. He had powerful supporters. What of them?"

  "I will ferret out those names later, after I regain full control of the Blarney Stone."

  "So you admit you aren't in total control, that this might be a trap to lure you in by hiding important facts from you? My cursory examination of your master computer shows Weir and at least one other reprogrammed extensively."

  "It was Weir," Donal said. "There isn't anyone else with access or the talent."

  "What of your daughters? Both are genetically advantaged and trained."

  Donal hesitated. A lump formed in his throat.

  "You know what happened at the military prison camp. That was my wif
e and daughter killed there."

  "Neither Cletus nor I saw them die. We were too occupied with saving our own lives."

  Donal shot to his feet. Anger filled him with fire now.

  "You retreated too soon. Cletus said you could have endured a few more minutes."

  "He is wrong. If your wife and daughter died because of my actions, then that same decision saved your son. Your entire family could have died if I had allowed Cletus to linger under the MBT barrages."

  "I am going down. If I wait for Cletus, even if he Lifts immediately, the citizens won't understand. An immediate public speech is necessary to solidify my return. It had to be open and from a public space with an assembled crowd to keep unrest down after having martial law declared for so long. My presence tells everyone things are back to normal." He glanced up at the chronometer above the fire control panel. "My dartabout launches in thirty minutes."

  "I can pilot you."

  "I have a copilot for the trip, thank you." Donal took a deep breath. "Captain Sullivan has her orders on how to deal with any treachery, should such action be required on-planet. The Shillelagh is in good hands."

  "I can─"

  "Don't, Comrade Chang. Don't meddle in this. You are nothing more than an advisor from Far Kingdom and are not in the Burran chain of command. Keep that in mind. You are an observer, so observe." He started to say more to her, then was distracted. Too much flooded in on him. Not for the first time, he wished Cletus were here, but he wasn't.

  Donal worked on the HUD to settle details before going to the cargo bay. He closed his eyes and let the data flood over him. He tweaked bits of it here and there. In spite of the Shillelagh's successful refitting with the super darklight battery, many of the lesser subsystems required maintenance. Keeping the dreadnought in fighting condition had required a triage he disliked. Every system aboard a ship this size carried a purpose into battle.