by Frank Carey
Max and Judith found a bot standing guard in front of the door leading to another storeroom. Keeping out of sight, Max fired up the network analyzer. Seeing a strong signal, she took a pen from her pocket and threw it down the corridor. It landed several feet past the bot which swung its head around while it searched for the source of the noise as Max and Judith watched the network activity spike. Max raised a thumb then programmed the analyzer to record traffic on this channel. After about twenty minutes of recording, she typed in commands, then abruptly shot the bot with her weapon. It crumpled to the ground.
"What the hell did you do that for?" Judith hissed. "They'll send something down here to check on that thing when they find it has gone silent!"
Max smiled and patted the top of the analyzer. "It is now looping whatever that bot said to its controller but wait! There's more. It has analyzed the data stream. It can respond to any command sent by the controller as long as it matches one we've recorded."
"And if we didn't record it?"
"Then we're screwed. Try not to worry," Max added. After a quick look around, she ran up to the bot, then clapped her hands in glee. "Wonderful. Better than wonderful. The blaster charge only caused a breaker to trip." She stood up and aimed the gun at the door before knocking on it. It slowly opened, and the captain peered out. "Yes?"
Max holstered her pistol. "Could you give us a hand with this?" she asked while pointing at the bot. "I need to do some surgery."
The captain was joined by the first officer. They looked down at the still form of the bot, then back up at the diminutive Alue. "Sure," the captain replied as she and the XO stepped out into the corridor to give Max and Judith a hand. Once inside the room--a small electronics shop used to repair the ship's instrumentation--they got the simulacrum up on a worktable.
Max took the multi-tool her parents gave her and used it to remove the abdominal, thoracic, and cranial access plates. The three officers gasped when they saw what was inside.
"Is that clockwork?" Jenna asked. She was referring to the cogs, gears and shafts which filled the abdomen. "Where the hell do you wind it up?"
"Max pointed to a glowing cylinder. "Power supply," she said while running a scanner over it. "Why the hell would this Cranston person need the biocrystal power supplies if he has these babies? Captain, how big are these power supplies of yours physically?"
"Each is about the size of a shoe box. They produce an EM field which is converted to electricity by a converter. A converter is about the size of a house when assembled. Each supply will last about two years at full utilization. We plan on getting our geothermal, solar, and wind generators on line well before the first BPS depletes."
"What Cranston wants with them is beyond me but want them he does. Where are they being stored?"
"Aft store room 57D along with the large machinery. Do you have a plan, Deputy?" the captain asked.
"Yes, I do. Like the immortals and necrue, Alue can move into a computer network and move around in it as a data packet, and like the other species, we're talking about a very large data packet which limits us to only large bandwidth networks." She pointed to the bot's cranium. "This network is way too small for me to move into without shutting it down, and I need it up and running."
"So, what are you going to do?" the XO asked.
Max reached into a pocket and withdrew her Space Patrol-issue datapad. "Now this little darling has enough capacity for me to throw an Alue wedding reception complete with a band. All I need to do is interface this between the existing network interface and the bot's control systems. That way I can ride inside and control the unit without Cranston being any the wiser." She walked over to one of the benches and returned with a box of tools and a scanner. "Captain, my bigger plan is to find the rest of your crew and take you all to the stasis module. Once everyone is safely inside, I'll eject the module before going after Cranston. If all goes well, we can put your ship back together in a few days, then get you on your way."
"And if things don't go well?"
"You and your people will be safe, though your departure may be delayed until Space Patrol can get another ship."
"What about you, Max?"
She shook her head. "Let me do the worrying. So, may I proceed?"
"The safety of my people is tantamount. Proceed, Deputy and thank you."
Max saluted the captain, then got to work.
CHAPTER SIX
Greg stared at Marshal McKee in utter disbelief as she ordered him to stand-down and remain on Maeve while she took the Alliance of Eight on a mission to free the passengers and crew of the Algonquin. For eight years he had received the finest training in every aspect of rescue operations in a confined spacecraft environment while these people had worked mostly in the cities of 19th century Earth. Hell, only his original, Lord Alabaster, even remembered what the interior of a spaceship looked like. Now, in her infinite wisdom, Marshal McKee had placed the safety of the crew and passengers in the hands of these people. He feared that people would die. Mostly, he feared that Max would die...
Max...
He leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes.
Max...
He quietly chuckled at how much of an ass he was. He wasn't angry because the Eight were going. Hell, they could pull this operation off in their sleep. No, he was afraid that he would lose Max, and he could do nothing to stop it. A feeling of helplessness washed over him.
"Greg, would you like to add anything to this discussion?" Red asked, startling him out of his funk. He detected a hint of annoyance in her voice.
"No, milady, I have nothing to add. The members of the Alliance have dealt with Cranston in the past, and I would only be a distraction. Milady, with your permission, I would like to return to the communications room to await any word from Max or Cranston."
"When did I become so namby-pamby?" Gregory asked. "When I was your age, I jumped at the thought of a good fight against impossible odds."
"Gregory!" Penelope exclaimed.
"Lord Alabaster!" Red said in shock.
The others in the room followed suit, all that is except for Greg. He just pressed a button on the table in front of him. "Franny, could you have someone bring me the wooden case on the desk in my room?"
"Sure, Greg," she said before hanging up.
"Lord Alabaster, would I be correct in assuming that you would have preferred I had died with the other clones you had stored in London?"
Gregory stared at his duplicate. "Yes, actually. You were never meant to come to consciousness. At first, I thought having you around would be a good idea, but recent events have changed my mind," he said as he turned his gaze toward Penelope and the others.
Greg shook his head. "If I were to disappear, then so would all your woes. Since when have you become a paranoid fool?"
Gregory bolted out of his chair. "How dare you, sir. Back in the day I could demand satisfaction of you..." A knock at the door interrupted him.
"Come!" Red yelled.
A trainee--Space Patrol had opened a training academy on Maeve--stepped into the room, walked over to where Greg sat, and handed him a polished wooden case. "Thank you, Ensign," Greg said as he took the object. Once the trainee was gone, Greg walked over to where an angry Gregory stood and handed him the case.
"What is this?" Lord Alabaster asked.
"Open it." Greg suggested as he returned to his seat.
Gregory opened it and said nothing as everyone else in the room gasped.
"Are those dueling pistols?" Red asked.
"Yes, milady. I bought them on my last trip to London. They are genuine antiques from the late 19th century. I've had them restored and adjusted. They are deadly in the hands of an expert."
"I will not allow this to happen!" Penelope growled.
"Neither will I," Melinda added.
"Lord Alabaster, I cannot challenge you because I have no problem with your existence. I have attempted to keep as far away as possible from you and the rest of the Allianc
e. I have no feelings toward Penelope or the other members of the Alliance. As we say in this century, the ball is in your court. If you feel that my death will improve your life, then challenge me. Otherwise, get off your high horse long enough to save those colonists and Deputy Wabash." He pounded his fist against the table, causing everyone in the room to jump. "Decide, damn your eyes!"
Gregory closed the case, then handed it to the Marshal.
Greg walked out of the room.
All eyes turned to Gregory.
"We leave in twenty minutes," Red said as she hurried out of the room after Greg.
"When this is over, we are all going to have a talk," Penelope said, her eyes filled with anger and disgust.
###
Greg was about to sit down when Red stormed into the room. He snapped to attention and saluted.
She returned salute then unleashed her fury. "What the hell is your problem? What the hell is his problem? What the hell is going on, Mister!?"
"Permission to speak, milady."
"Spill it!"
"When I was in London, it came to my attention that the members of the Alliance had expressed their preference for me over Lord Alabaster. It seems this did not sit well with the good gentleman."
"Did you do anything to foster this idea?"
"No, milady. If not for the lord's memories stored in my skull, I wouldn't know these people from Adam and Eve."
"Does Lady Penelope have a crush on you?"
"Milady?!"
"Answer the damn question."
"Yes, ma'am. I think she does, and I think Lord Alabaster is aware of these feelings."
"So, he wants you dead? I thought you two were getting along."
"We were. Ma'am, I think all the Alliance except Penelope are suffering from withdrawal."
"They were heroes, now they have nothing to do?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"So, you thought it was a good idea to hand Gregory a set of dueling pistols? Do you really think him killing you will fix things?"
"In retrospect, buying them was not one of my finest moments, nor was handing them to him."
"What's gotten into you? Both you and Max have been acting squirrelly lately."
He said nothing.
"Spit it out, mister!"
"I'm in love with Maxine Wabash, milady," he blurted out. A look of mortification appeared on his pale face.
"This is not news, Deputy."
"Excuse me, milady?"
"You two have been the worst kept secret on Maeve. I think the only people who didn't know are you and Max. At ease and take a seat."
They sat down.
"I need a drink," she said.
"I'll buy you one when you get back."
A call came in. The computer identified it as coming from the Algonquin.
He tapped a control. The image of the burnished robot appeared on the screen. "Yes, Cranston?" Greg said.
"Alabaster, or whomever you are, I want you aboard this ship in one-half hour. Come alone and unarmed. Any tricks, or you decide not to come, and I start killing hostages. The image went to black as Cranston cut the connection from his end.
Greg looked at Red. "I'll buy us both a drink when we get back," he said.
CHAPTER SEVEN
A bot appeared down the corridor and approached one watching a doorway. The guard turned and stared at the one approaching. "Unit 6, respond to commands!" the guard asked in Cranston's voice. "Unit 6, respond!"
Unit six walked up, then suddenly swung its fist, decapitating the guard. "How's that for a response, asshole?" Max said. She materialized in the corridor and retrieved the guard's head which she opened before placing a device inside. When the guard's eyes flickered, she placed it on top of its body. "That should do it," she said.
"Do what, Deputy?" the captain asked.
"I added a circuit which sends false data from spoofed addresses. Right now, several bots are being attacked by bunny rabbits in the forward lounge."
"I like your sense of humor, Deputy," the XO said.
"Thank you." She walked over and knocked on the door. It opened and one of the crew stuck his head out. "Captain!"
"Doug, grab everyone. We're heading to the stasis module."
With Max back in her bot and taking the lead, the group made their way to the module while gathering crew along the way. When they arrived, the crew entered the module and prepared it for launch while Max kept watch outside. When they were ready, the captain joined her. "Deputy, can I convince you to join us?"
Max shook her massive metal head. "Sorry, ma'am, but I need to stop this Cranston person from doing any more damage. Good journey, Captain," she said with a salute.
"Carry on, Deputy," the captain said as she returned the salute. Moments later, the deck shook as the module ejected and headed to the shelter of the nearby space station orbiting Maeve.
The intercom blared with a familiar, but angry voice. "This is Cranston! I don't know who or what the hell you are, but you need to stop plarking around with my plans or else your buddy, Greg, gets to see the great beyond first hand. Get your ass to the bridge right now or he dies!"
"Shit!" Max said as she commanded her robot body to run full-tilt down the corridor toward the Algonquin's bridge.
###
"Maybe you could have found a smaller ship?" Rex complained as the shuttle Zephyr took off and headed into orbit. "Designed to seat ten normal people, it was cramped when you had six plus Angus and Rex.
"You could ride on the hull," she noted as she thumbed the transmit button on her control yoke. "Zoetrope, this is Zephyr on scramble one, do you copy? Over."
"Zoetrope? Isn't that Greg's ship?" Penelope asked.
As if to answer, Greg's voice came over the intercom. "Zephyr, this is Zoetrope reading you five-by-five. I have you on scope. Prepare to link, over."
"What the hell is going on?" Bayou asked.
"Watch the cabin view screen," Red replied. They watched as the much larger Zoetrope appeared ahead of them before moving underneath them. Moments later, a loud thunk sounded from the deck.
"We have linkage. I'll take it from here, Zephyr. Zoetrope out."
"Care to explain, Marshal?" Gregory asked. "I thought Greg was staying behind."
"He was until Cranston demanded that Greg join him aboard the Algonquin. Cranston threatened to kill the colonists if Greg refused, so Greg agreed. That's why we're using the Zephyr; it's small enough to hide inside the Zoetrope's sensor shadow."
"Cranston will kill him," Gregory said, "whether or not he believes Greg is me."
"Greg knows that, but he's driven by something known as a sense of duty. Anyway, I thought you were going to try to kill him when we got back."
"He has had a change of heart," Penelope said. "The eight of us had a talk while you were with Greg..."
"She did most of the talking," Angus said, "while we listened in fear."
Shade giggled. "It was like facing a typhoon."
"You can speak?" Red asked.
"When I choose to," he replied.
"So, we're using Greg as a diversion?"
"Yes. And Max is part of this, but she doesn't know it or anything about our plan. Try not to kill her by accident."
"Copy that, milady," Bayou said.
"This is Greg. Prepare for docking. I'm heading for the aft airlock closest to the stasis module. Once I'm clear, you're free to enter the ship. I will keep Cranston occupied if I can. Greg out."
There was an audible thunk followed by silence.
"Now, we wait," Red said as she powered down the Zephyr.
"Are you completely insane?" Gregory exclaimed. "Cranston hates me. He will tear Greg apart."
"Tell me, Gregory. What were you going to do with the clones once they had served their purpose?"
Gregory said nothing.
"Did you even check to see if they, like Greg, were self-aware and sapient? Or did you just assume they could be killed on a whim?"
"I am not a monst
er, dammit!"
"No, just purpose-driven blind. You were so intent on saving billions that you forgot to think about the six people you created. That's where you and Greg differ. He volunteered for a mission that he knew might kill him. He is what the Space Patrol is all about: saving the universe one person, one ship, one planet at a time." She looked at the ship's chronometer. "Time to go. Remember: If a bot raises its hands and surrenders, you will not shoot it. Got it?"
"Yes, milady," Angus said for all of them.
Red got up, walked to the center of the cabin, and knelt next to a square hatch embedded in the deck. She tapped a button at its center, causing the hatch to open and reveal the cabin of the Zoetrope below. She jumped through, landing on the shuttle's deck with gun at ready. Seeing the ship empty, she signaled the others to join her. Once they were all present and accounted for, she walked over to the side airlock and cycled both inner and outer doors open while aiming her weapon out the door and down the corridor beyond. "Move out," she said.
Just as the last member of the Alliance of Eight stepped through the airlock, the deck shook. Taking a chance that the computer had not been compromised, Red queried the computer. "Computer! Recognize Marshal Melinda McKee. Status report!"
"Stasis module has ejected."
"How many crew and passengers are left aboard?"
"None."
She tapped a button on her wrist gauntlet "Niall! Ariel! Sitrep!"
"This is Niall, the stasis module has ejected and is currently heading toward the space station. The station has been alerted. Orders?"
"Niall, follow it just in case something wants to interfere."
"Roger that. Good hunting."
"Ariel, find a lock and get in here. I want this computer locked down immediately."
"On it, mistress. I'm already in and my ship is set to defensive station keeping. Shutting down computer functions and locking all store room hatches."
The intercom blared with a familiar, but angry voice. "This is Cranston! I don't know who or what the hell you are, but you need to stop plarking around with my plans or else your buddy, Greg, gets to see the great beyond first hand. Get your ass to the bridge right now or he dies!"