Armor World

by B. V. Larson

  “Well, normally that would be a good tactic,” I admitted. “But the trouble is we can’t get out of this place, and we can’t kill all your tanks and other creatures. So, we need to deal in order to escape.”

  “Nothing that enters the mouth of a Skay exits again unaltered.”

  I blinked twice at that statement. The thing was referring to that giant door, calling it a mouth… the mouth of a Skay.

  All of a sudden, an obvious thought struck me. Most of my troops had probably figured it out already as they listened into our talk, but the idea was brand new to me.

  This thing, this giant ship… I now realized it was a Skay. All of it. The whole thing was a planet, a living world… and a single, artificially intelligent being.

  “I didn’t realize any of the Galactic races were as big as you are,” I said, seeking confirmation on my hunch. “Can you feel pain when we fire missiles at your outer hull? Are you alive, or just a numb ball of star dust?”

  “Your questions are absurd. Star dust feels no pain. My mind triggers regret software when events go in an unfortunate direction, but that is all. Now, human, contact your ship. I grow tired of this process.”

  Tapping at my tapper, I contacted Legate. It took about twenty seconds to get Graves on the line. He looked annoyed.

  “McGill? What did I tell you about transmitting in the clear? You’re supposed to be on radio silence, and any…”

  He trailed off, having apparently noticed the turrets, cannon barrels and eyeballs behind me.

  “What the hell…?”

  “Primus, may I introduce you to a child of our host Skay. Our new Galactic friend is interested in talking to us personally. Can we approach without being fired upon?”

  “McGill… you have to be the craziest rodent I’ve ever laid eyes on. You want me to stand down and let you roll an alien tank right up to Legate without us firing a shot?”

  “That’s exactly right. Here’s how I see things, sir: We’re trapped inside the belly of this Skay-thing. But I’ve been making friends, and I think we can make a deal with this Galactic, the same way we’ve made deals with the Mogwa in the past.”

  Graves didn’t answer right off. His screen went dark. I thought he was conferring with Drusus or something. I began sweating again, even though it wasn’t that hot out.

  “I grow impatient,” the Skay complained. “The digesters on these vehicles will now transform you. Please climb down and stand near the orifice.”

  “Uh…” I said, hearing some awful sounds from lower down on the tank. It was shifting around, opening armor plates and no doubt revealing a nasty maw of some kind that was interested in eating us.

  “Graves!” I shouted at my tapper. “We’re wasting Mr. Skay’s time here, sir!”

  He finally came back on the screen. He looked annoyed.

  “Roll your friends down here. If they fire at Legate, we’ll incinerate the lot of you.”

  “That sounds mighty friendly of you, sir,” I lied. “Downright hospitable!”

  The tanks began to roll, and we traveled over a hill. Legate appeared in the distance. Each kilometer we traveled, I found myself swallowing harder.

  This bit of diplomacy was going to take all my skills—and all my luck—to pull off.

  -54-

  The tanks rolled us closer to the squatting transport. Every gun on Legate tracked the tanks, and the tanks returned the favor with obvious paranoia.

  I seriously considered telling Graves to open fire. It would be a coup if I could get Legate’s gunners to destroy these tanks without taking much damage, but I passed on the idea. Battling with a few vehicles now was pointless. Armor World was full of Skay minions. A handful of destroyed mega-tanks meant nothing to the enemy. Eventually, they’d wear us down.

  So, I kept my bargain instead. I climbed down off the lead tank and headed for the nearest ramp. There wasn’t a human in sight.

  Behind me, my troops began to dismount as well, but I raised my hand to stop them.

  “Hold on, you’re staying here with the tanks. You’re all hostages.”

  Glumly, what was left of my squad stood under the watchful alien eyes.

  Nearer at hand, as I climbed the ramp, Cooper released a dirty laugh. “You’re such a bastard, McGill. Are you going to dust them all off together?”

  “Negative,” I said, and I considered ordering him to take his stealthing ass back down there to face the music—but I didn’t. He wasn’t hurting anything by making good on his escape.

  When we reached the top of the ramp, Graves and Drusus were waiting. They looked tense and annoyed. Graves had an arm missing just above the elbow—but I didn’t ask about it. Injuries were temporary in the legions.

  “McGill…” Drusus said. “I’d welcome you back, but I’m not sure that’s appropriate. Why’d you bring a squad of Skay tanks with you?”

  “These aren’t the Skay, sir,” I said. “Not exactly. You see, this entire inside-out planet is what’s called a single Skay.”

  “You’re talking about the ship?”

  “That’s right. You see, the Skay are one of the Galactics that are machine intelligences, rather than biotics. They’re a race of giant ships, or planets, or moons—whatever you want to call this thing we’re trapped inside of.”

  Drusus looked surprised, but he appeared to get it. “I see… that does clarify some things. There’s got to be a computer somewhere instructing these tanks. Have you spoken with it?”

  “Yes, in a manner of speaking. I’ve talked to it through the tanks themselves. I suspect we could have talked to the Skay at any point through one of its abominations, if it had felt like talking.”

  “Why did it talk to you?” Graves asked, narrowing his eyes. He moved as if to cross his arms, but failed due to the missing limb.

  “That’s a plain mystery to me,” I admitted. “But I think it’s because we were irritating it and it wanted to get on with the business of consuming us. You see, this weird species—if you can call a race of cyborgs that—likes to tear down biotics like us and add some metal, maybe a few computer chips, and make new, obedient soldiers out of us.”

  Graves looked me over as if suspecting I’d been compromised in some way. Knowing my only hope for reason was going to come from the praetor, I turned to Drusus.

  “I made a deal with it. I told the Skay if it brought us back to Legate and let our ship go, I’d give it a gift of great power.”

  Drusus laughed politely. “That sounds like classic McGill. The only trouble is I can’t imagine anything we have that would interest this monster, other than allowing it to devour our flesh. I’m not interested in such a trade.”

  “Hold on,” I said. “We do have something to trade. I told the Skay we had a weapon—a powerful weapon it could use against the Mogwa. That’s why it’s out here in the first place, see. This Skay wants to horn in on Province 921, which it regards as unguarded Mogwa territory.”

  They both squinted at me in confusion for a moment, but Graves figured it out first.

  “A weapon against the Mogwa?” Graves asked, shaking his head. “Forget it, McGill. We’re not going there. We’ll blast our way out first.”

  “Haven’t you tried that already, sirs?” I asked, glancing over my shoulder toward the distant coiled spring.

  We’d bombed out that tower-like coiled spiral structure the first time we’d come to Armor World to pay the Skay a visit. We’d successfully broken a huge spring and caused the door to sag open and require repairs.

  “Looks like the mouth over there is pretty scarred up, but the door is still shut,” I remarked.

  “The ‘mouth?’” Drusus asked.

  “That’s what the Skay calls that cargo door—its mouth.”

  “That’s cute. But yes, we shot it up as best we could. We couldn’t damage it because it has shielding now. The Skay not only repaired itself, it made improvements.”

  “Why not use an A-bomb?” I asked.

  “We’re too close,�
� Graves said. “Legate would be destroyed at this range. Besides, we’ve been holding onto the last big weapons in our arsenal in case one of you scouts located a better target.”

  I looked back at them. “Like the Skay’s brain-pan?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Any luck finding it?”

  “No,” Graves admitted. “That’s what you’re supposed to be doing, and in fact, most of the patrols we sent out are all dead.”

  “It was a good effort,” Drusus told him. “A desperate move that never had much chance of working, but a good effort nonetheless.”

  Graves looked sour. To him, any failure was a failure. Nothing more.

  “Well?” I asked. “Are we going to hand it over? It’s our only way out.”

  Drusus narrowed his eyes. “Hand it over… now I get it. You must be talking about the Mogwa bio-terminator. Can that possibly be your plan, McGill? Seriously?”

  “Of course, sir. It’s the only bargaining chip we have. The Skay are at war with the Mogwa. If we give this thing a weapon, it will see us as allies.”

  “There you go, negotiating diplomatic deals again,” Graves said, shaking his head. “Praetor, I urge you to ignore this insanity. Fight well. Die well. After that we can be remembered honorably.”

  “Yeah, the honorable dead,” I said. “All ten billion humans, maybe a few other local species can go out with honor, too.”

  “You think this Skay will exterminate Earth?” Drusus asked.

  “I do. This thing is a heartless machine. It has no capacity for empathy. No kindness. No soul.”

  Drusus rubbed at his chin. He had bristles there, a testament to his stressed state of mind. Drusus never looked like he needed a shave unless it was a very bad day indeed.

  “It appears that this Skay visited 51 Pegasi first,” he said. “After subduing that planet and colonizing it with a processing plant under a dome, it moved on to Earth.”

  “Obviously, it planned to do the same to us,” I said. “We have to make a deal with it if we can’t destroy it. We won’t be able to trick it so easily again by teleporting into the mouth. It knows that move, and it’s taking steps even now to stop such attacks in the future.”

  “Yes, it learns…” Drusus said. “It’s a smart robot.” He looked conflicted.

  Graves looked disgusted. I waited while they mulled it over.

  Suddenly, however, there were pounding footsteps behind me. I turned to gaze down the ramp.

  It was Kivi, running for her life. She had a desperate look on her face. A pleading expression.

  Boom!

  A deafening report sounded. There was nothing left but a single boot and a puff of gray smoke. The ramp itself was damaged, with a crater blasted into it.

  “Seems like our guests are getting impatient,” I told the others.

  Turning around, I walked down the ramp toward the tanks. “If you change your mind, sirs, send somebody out with a barrel of Mogwa poison. I’m going to go talk to it some more and stall in the meantime.”

  “We’re not going to make the slightest effort to miss you when we blow those things away, McGill!” Graves called after me.

  I gave him an unconcerned wave over my shoulder and trudged outside.

  The cyborgs were in quite a mood. They were rolling around on their treads impatiently. My troops, white-faced, clung to the backs of the tanks. They were close to bolting as Kivi had done. Only the instant death she’d faced had kept them from making a run for it.

  When they saw me, the lead tank seemed to recognize me. How? Who knew?

  “It is the speaking ape,” the tank said. “Why have you delayed me? Is this how humans reward their new masters? With long waits and treachery?”

  “Not at all, sir!” I said loudly. “I had to get my superiors to agree to the exchange, that’s all.”

  “You have not even explained the nature of this offer. I’m growing weary of your nonsense. Stand still so that I may cleanly expunge you from my presence.”

  At that point I noticed one of the turrets was tracking me closely. It couldn’t miss at this range.

  “Don’t you want to hear how you’re going to defeat the Mogwa first?” I asked.

  “You trouble me, creature… but speak. I will listen for a few moments more.”

  Smiling big, I began to make my offer. It caught on pretty quickly—but unfortunately, it seemed unimpressed.

  “A bio-terminator? That’s it? I’m overcome with disappointment. We’ve already purchased that formula. It’s nearby in Province 929, waiting to be picked up.”

  My brain clicked inside my head. I swear it did.

  Province 929 was a lost frontier land bordering ours. Rigel was out there, about five hundred lightyears away.

  “That rat-bastard little bear…” I said to myself, then I raised my voice. “Uh… Mr. Skay? You wouldn’t have had any dealings with a fellow about yay-high, would you?” I placed my hand about a meter above the ground. “All hairy and ugly? Goes by the name of Squanto?”

  “You describe the creature accurately. How would you know this?”

  I laughed. “Because I’m his supplier! You see, Earth made the stuff, and Squanto wants to buy it from us. I guess he planned to turn around and sell it you afterward.”

  The Skay tank froze again, thinking.

  “What you say is possible,” it said at last. “But you must prove it. Hand over the formula now, or die.”

  The turrets whined and shifted, lining up not just on me, but on several critical areas of Legate’s belly.

  I wondered if these frigging tanks could destroy Legate with a surprise attack. I couldn’t rule it out.

  My reading of the situation was bleak. Unless I missed my guess, this whole powwow was about to go tits-up and turn into a firefight. I would be the first to admit that I was starting to feel the heat. The tanks were all acting up, and I knew our own gunners were just itching to lay destruction down upon them as well.

  Worst of all, poor old James McGill was standing at ground zero, waiting to become a smear of charred meat on the field of honor.

  “Hold on!” I said, waving my hands over my head.

  This gesture seemed to work a little too well, and I gained a few extra turrets swinging in my direction. They tracked me with eerie precision.

  “I’ll do you one better than the formula—I’ll give you a working sample. A dose strong enough to dust off a Mogwa city!”

  The tanks reversed their massive treads. Two of them surged up to loom over me like giants.

  “The Mogwa only possess one city,” the voice said, and it sounded like it was hungry.

  “Uh… Oh yeah. Well, that was hyperbole on my part. Earth cities are much smaller. But it will be an impressive amount, I assure you.”

  “Excellent. Present your gift quickly.”

  “But we haven’t talked about what we’re getting out of the bargain,” I said.

  “You are gaining your continued existence.”

  “Right, great. That goes for all humanity, right? Not just me? Not just our one ship?”

  The tank thought about it. “If the product works as described, then yes. You will have proven yourself worthy slaves.”

  “Fantastic! Let me just go up this ramp and get the sample. I’ll be right back!”

  Trotting up the ramp, I soon vanished into the ship’s interior. Drusus and Graves were still up there, but if it can be imagined, they looked even less happy than they had the first time we’d spoken.

  “You offered them not only the formula—but our stock of the poison?” Drusus asked. “What authority did you have in making such an offer?”

  “Well sir, I’m as human as the next fellow. I want to keep breathing—and I wanted to keep everyone on Earth breathing, too. In short, I’ve got a stake in the outcome of this situation.”

  “But why did you offer them more than Rigel did?” Graves demanded. “If you’d given them the formula alone, it would be much harder to trace where it came from. Th
e organic chemistry… there might be signatures, if you know where to look.”

  “Sirs, if there is one thing I know well, it’s horse-trading. I couldn’t offer to match Squanto—I had to beat him. I had to one-up him in a clear and concise fashion.”

  The two officers glanced at one another. They looked pretty uncomfortable.

  “Well?” I asked. “The tanks are going to get anxious again soon. Is it a go?”

  Drusus blasted out a deep sigh, closed his eyes and let his chin sink to his chest in defeat.

  “Graves… go get the items. Give them to McGill—and do it on the double.”

  Cursing under his breath, Graves trotted away from us. Drusus stayed in his pose of distress.

  “Aw now,” I said, “don’t worry so much, Praetor. This will all work out.”

  “This is what Turov wanted, you know,” he said, keeping his head down. “You’ve turned, James. You’ve become her creature.”

  “Uh… how’s that?”

  “Didn’t you wonder why she’s being kept in the revival queue for so long? Why she and Armel were out here pulling a deal together?”

  I squinted at him. “Are you saying that Galina and Armel hatched a plan to sell out the Mogwa? To the Skay?”

  “Yes. That’s what’s been going on. We’ve been investigating everything while you were out on patrol. We found out that they wanted to switch masters—they’ve always wanted to switch masters and ditch the Mogwa because they were too weak. Remember the Cephalopods?”

  “Oh yeah… Galina did want to go rebel then, didn’t she?”

  “That’s right. Now, today, you’ve come back to me with an ultimatum of the same general nature. Here I am, going along with it. Earth is a rebel state now, in the eyes of the Mogwa. Worse, we’re cooperating with the enemy, arming them…”

  It was true, of course. Every word of it.

  “But this is different,” I argued. “We’re not rebelling against the Empire itself. We’re just accepting a new lord from the same Core World powers. We can’t be blamed for that. It’s a matter between the Mogwa and the Skay.”

  Drusus snorted. “I’ll have you explain that carefully to the Mogwa if they return one fateful day in the future.”