Star Raider

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Star Raider Page 38

by Vaughn Heppner


  Tanner looked up in astonishment. Then, he grinned. “It’s good to be back, Lady. I missed you,” he added, before he could stop himself.

  She smiled, clearly liking that.

  “This is all very well,” Acton said. “But I believe it is time to act, not to gush affectionately over each other.”

  Ursa blushed as Tanner’s grin widened.

  “Right you are, Lord Acton,” Tanner said, turning to his board. “What do you suggest?”

  “That we lift into high orbit,” Acton said. “That we go around to the other side of the planet from the Doom Star.”

  “Why’s that?” Tanner asked. “The Coalition people aren’t the ones who have pinpointed the raider.”

  “If the Phaze has taken control of the Doom Star, we’re no longer worried about the Coalition here.”

  “Okay, but how does that—”

  “The Doom Star has entered the planet’s atmosphere,” Acton said, interrupting. “The vessel has gone dangerously low, almost to the surface. The warship wasn’t constructed for heavy atmospherics. One possibility for taking the vessel so low is so the Phaze can be within mind control range of the Web Mind.”

  “The Phaze doesn’t need the Doom Star near for that. The energy creature could go itself at any time.”

  “Maybe the Phaze wishes to remain on the Doom Star in order to control the crew.”

  “Oh,” Tanner said. “We don’t know enough, do we? But that’s still not…” Tanner fell silent, thinking. “Is that why the orbital sensors have stopped searching for us? Is there a contest of wills taking place between the Web Mind and Phaze? Maybe the Web Mind can’t control the orbitals while it’s fighting to keep its will intact.”

  “That is my belief,” Acton said.

  Tanner nodded. “One way or the other, though, our time to act is surely limited.”

  “Maybe limited just enough for us to go out far enough to render ourselves invisible from the orbital sensors. Once we’re hidden as before, we shall be hard to find again.”

  “Right,” Tanner said.

  The Dark Star continued upward, leaving the red sky as it entered the darkness of space. By slow degrees, it went from low to high orbit. It soared far above the countless devices circling the planet.

  “Now what should we do?” Tanner asked.

  Ursa had departed the control room. She’d been beat and said she’d needed a few moments to herself.

  “It is time to go around onto the same side as the Doom Star,” Acton said. “We must discover exactly what it is doing.”

  “Got it,” Tanner said, as he piloted the raider.

  Thirty-seven minutes later, Tanner spied the mighty Doom Star on his scope. It hovered less than a quarter of a kilometer from the surface. That was daringly low indeed for a deep space vessel.

  “I see a string of shuttles,” the centurion said. “They’re entering huge hangar bays to land inside the Doom Star. I see other vehicles, too. They have a strange design. I wonder if they’re cyborg craft.”

  “Put what you see on the screen,” Acton said.

  Tanner did so, sitting back. The possible cyborg craft had swept back wings and narrow fuselages.

  “Those are space superiority fighters,” Acton said. “I have seen such craft in history texts. Those are cyborgs vessels. Can you zoom in more tightly?”

  Tanner did. They saw cyborg pilots in the cockpits as the space fighters headed for the giant hangar bays.

  Without a word, Tanner changed focus, soon zeroing in on the surface. There, cyborg soldiers milled in their thousands. When a shuttle landed, a section of cyborgs marched up a landing ramp into the shuttle. Some carried cargo, most just had rifles and ammo packs. The various shuttles lifted and went directly to the Doom Star.

  “They’re loading up on cyborgs and cyborg tech,” Tanner said.

  “That would indicate the Phaze has gained control of the Doom Star,” Acton said.

  Tanner scowled. “We failed then, right? The Phaze controls cyborgs. It would seem it has an entire planet of them at its disposal. The great assault will soon begin upon humanity. If the Phaze has regained control of the Web Mind, that means it can bring through more Phazes to our galaxy. It can also link the intellects of the ones who have fully incubated here.”

  “Your conclusion is obvious and correct,” Acton said.

  “So…what do we do now?”

  “What can we do?” Acton asked.

  Tanner snapped his fingers. “You’re a super genius, right? Why can’t you use the Web Mind’s viruses? Surely, if it took over all the orbitals, you can do likewise.”

  “I doubt it would make any difference. The Doom Star is an Old Federation warship. Surely, it has the correct codes for the orbital missiles and sensors. If I rip control of them from the Web Mind—no, the Phaze controls the Web Mind and the Phaze appears to control the Doom Star. What is your plan?”

  “Nuke the Doom Star.”

  “That might make a slight difference,” Acton said. “It still leaves all the cyborgs and their hidden equipment under the planet. They have clearly awoken. It is merely a matter of time before the great assault begins.”

  “So we’re finished?” Tanner asked.

  “No!”

  Tanner and Acton turned around. Ursa had returned.

  “The centurion should speak to Greco,” Ursa said.

  “That does not explain your ‘no,’” Acton said, seeming puzzled.

  Tanner stood up. “Maybe not, but if someone has an idea, I want to hear it. I haven’t come all this way and gone underground and back to give up this easily.”

  ***

  Tanner buzzed Greco’s room. There was no reply. He made a fist and hammered on the metal hatch.

  “It’s open,” Greco said through the closed door.

  Tanner entered a smoky, hazy room. The place was a mess with the bed unmade, clothes and junk strewn on the floor and half-filled containers sitting here and there.

  Greco leaned back, balancing himself on the rear legs of a chair. His feet were on a computer desk, the toes wiggling. An open bottle of brandy sat on the desk beside a tumbler with a splash of alcohol on the bottom. The smoke came from Greco’s big, nasty, black cigar. It stuck out of his simian lips. He puffed lustily, making the end glow red as he put more smoke into the air.

  “What is this?” Tanner asked, coughing, waving smoke from his face.

  Greco plucked the stogie from his mouth. The apeman waved the cigar in the air, making a trail of smoke. “This, my fine friend, is me lubricating my mind. I need brandy and a cigar to help me think deeply. I have been doing that ever since you boarded. I have a reached a fantastic conclusion.”

  Something about the way Greco said that convinced Tanner the apeman knew what he was talking about.

  “Do you remember what I told you about a koholmany?” Greco asked.

  Tanner shook his head.

  The apeman puffed some more. Then, he bent forward, picked up the glass and threw its remaining brandy into his mouth. He smacked his lips afterward, giving a hoot of delight.

  “This is my best stuff,” Greco said. “I tell you, my friend, my thoughts have percolated into high gear. I am near my dream, and all because of you. I cannot believe this day is coming. It is the reason why I left Avernus long ago to join you.”

  “You’re drunk,” Tanner said.

  “I am, I am,” Greco said, “on the possibilities that lie before me. I am giddy with delight.”

  “Does this have anything to do with the cyborgs?”

  “A small part of it does, I admit. You will gain your desire as I gain mine.”

  “Okay…” Tanner said.

  “A koholmany is an Avernite’s great dream,” Greco said solemnly. “You know I love vibrations.”

  Tanner glanced at the drums in the corner.

  “My dream has always been—let me amend that. For a long time, I have wished to fulfill Tesla’s boast of being able to split a planet apart by applyin
g a small amount of force at precisely the right locations.”

  Tanner scowled. “Why don’t you spell it out for me so I can understand?”

  “It is simple. My koholmany is an invention, a device to fulfill my dream quest. If we can gain control of the orbital missiles, I have developed a precise pattern of impacts and explosions.” Greco used the cigar to point at the computer screen.

  Tanner saw an image of Planet Zero on it. The planet had thousands of lines on it.

  “Those are fault lines,” Greco said. “During your long absence, I plotted them.”

  “Okay. So what?”

  “So…if you can gain control of the missiles for me, I can show you where to hit and explode them in such a way that it will split the planet. Will that not destroy the vast majority of the cyborgs?”

  “Yes!” Tanner said. He stared at the screen more closely. Then, he studied the apeman. “Can you really do this?”

  “Can Acton gain control of the orbital missiles? I happened to be listening in on you two a few moments ago.”

  Tanner paused, thinking. “Let’s go find out.”

  -56-

  Clack shuddered. The last few hours had been one horror piled upon another.

  He had been powerless as his officers brought the Doom Star down into the deep atmosphere. Everyone had obeyed the image of the Old Federation rear admiral. She had first appeared to them from the Doom Star as it climbed out of the wandering gas giant. It was just an image, an ancient replica of a former living person. Now, though, something had changed dramatically. He didn’t know how, what or why, but the comet thing that had entered the Doom Star had combined with the ancient image. It had been the thing controlling their thoughts.

  The image of the Old Federation rear admiral had appeared on the main screen from time to time. She’d spoken arrogantly, giving orders. Clack had watched helplessly from the commander’s chair. The image had eyed him several times, grinning malevolently. He had the distinct impression that it toyed with him.

  He knew cyborgs boarded the Doom Star. They had been for some time. He could not allow that. It was time to do something, the only thing that made sense.

  Willing himself to act, Clack pressed a special tab on one of his armrests. “This is the acting captain,” he whispered.

  He waited. Finally, a signal showed on the armrest.

  Clack had discovered the self-destruct sequence during his journey to the planet. He’d memorized it and now began to press armrest buttons in an exact manner.

  Sweat beaded his forehead. He didn’t want to die. He yearned to live a long time. It had been his goal to climb high enough in Special Intelligence to win extended life. He’d made many plans. Now, those plans meant nothing.

  With a sleeve, he blotted his forehead. All the while, he continued the self-destruct sequence. He did not dare glance at the new security officer or see if the Old Federation image watched him. That would be the worst. He had to concentrate on his task. He had to act natural. He did not want to go down in history as the worst traitor to humanity. Surely, someone somewhere would discover that he had commanded the Doom Star that went down to the cyborg-infested planet. This was his sacrifice to social unity. He could pay his debts. For the good of humanity, he must.

  Clack paused, rubbing his fingertips. He could feel a burning sensation in his back. He knew. He just knew that someone watched him.

  Don’t do it, he told himself.

  Despite the desire to continue with the self-destruct, Clack raised his head and dared to peek at the main screen.

  His life seemed to catch in his throat. The rear admiral stared into his eyes. She grinned evilly, as if enjoying this.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” the image in the screen asked him.

  Clack’s mouth became dry. He couldn’t swallow, although he began to shiver. If he could finish the sequence, he could escape whatever horror the thing in the screen planned for him. He knew that look. He had seen it a hundred times in a mirror.

  “Do you think I don’t know what you’re doing?” the image asked.

  Clack’s shivering became trembling. It hurt his stomach to clench it so tightly. He opened his mouth, but no words came out.

  “Do you not realize that I am your new overlord?” the image asked. “In time, I will control the entire galaxy. From here, we star lords shall continue our enteral conquest.”

  Confusion filled Clack. What had the image said? He frowned, and his curiosity helped to quench some of the growing terror. He managed to moisten his tongue. That seemed like a minor miracle.

  “S-S-Star lords?” Clack stammered.

  “It is what you shall call me for the short term remaining of your pathetic humanity.”

  “I-I do not understand.”

  “When you do, you will wish you did not.”

  The hatch opened and the most wicked-looking creatures clanked onto the bridge. They gleamed metallically in places while graphite-strengthened muscles bulged in others. They had horrible faces, part metal and part flesh. Clack had seen the cyborgs milling on the surface. He hadn’t gotten the opportunity to see one up close until now.

  “Clack Urbis,” the image said, the supposed star lord.

  He looked up at the main screen.

  “It is time for you to begin life anew,” the star lord said.

  “Please,” he whispered. “D-Don’t do this. I-I’ll serve you.”

  “By destroying this lovely warship?” the star lord asked.

  “No. That was a mistake, a terrible misunderstanding. I can…I can show you things.”

  The star lord smiled. “I do not think so. I prefer that you become a cyborg, too. I wish to test the convertor my minions have brought aboard. You will be the test subject. Afterward, you will join their ranks and serve me faithfully for the rest of your miserable existence.”

  Clack’s eyes widened with horror.

  “Yes,” the image in the screen said. “I will also test your companion in disobedience. The two of you shall become cyborgs together.”

  Clack tried to finish the self-destruct sequence, but none of the responses worked anymore.

  “No,” propulsion said. “Let go of me. I don’t want to go with you.”

  It felt surreal as Clack turned to see two monstrously strong cyborgs pluck poor propulsion from her seat. She struggled to no avail. Her weak human muscles couldn’t compare to the cyborgs.

  Sweat slid down the interrogator’s face. This was the end, wasn’t it? Nothing could save him. It was over.

  “Please,” propulsion wailed. “Don’t hurt me.”

  Clack stood as other cyborgs approached him. He drew his gun, and in an act of mercy, he fired two shots into propulsion. She went limp in their grip, although she managed to turn to him with pain and gratitude in her eyes.

  “Thank you,” she mouthed, too quiet for him to hear the words.

  Feeling more surreal than ever, Clack turned the gun on himself, but he wasn’t fast enough. A cyborg ripped the weapon from him, hurling it across the bridge.

  “No,” Clack said, struggling.

  “I have changed my mind,” the star lord said from the screen. “Now, I will save you for last. I want you to see what you are going to become.”

  Clack struggled harder as two cyborgs hauled him toward the bridge’s exit.

  ***

  Deep underground, the Web Mind worked furiously. Its vast brain could think with lightning speed, playing out thousands of scenarios in seconds. It had regrouped at speed, its workers repairing more of its extended substance as it gave them wireless instructions.

  At first, it had directed a few orbital sensors to look for the gravity sled and the two interlopers. Then, it had found their space vehicle. For a time, the Web Mind had toyed with them, enjoying the limited attack. Oh, how they had tried one thing after another.

  Then, the Doom Star descended into the atmosphere. A quick calculation and several thousand possibilities later, it reasoned that one o
f the star lords from the Triangulum Galaxy had gained control of the Federation vessel. The Web Mind well understood the awesome powers of a Doom Star. It had faced them in battle a lifetime ago.

  The Web Mind was certain the star lord returned in order to control it again. On no account would the Web Mind ever submit to dominance again. Yet, it realized that it had no good defense against the photon-electrical creature.

  Thus, the Web Mind strained to turn on the interstellar transporter. It succeeded. The time warp came back online. It would give the Web Mind time to recalculate, as it would be several days before even a star lord could work its way through the protective field. Turning on the interstellar transporter had momentarily cut it off from the orbitals as well. That didn’t matter much, as the Web Mind wasn’t worried about the paltry humans with their tiny spacecraft. The star lord and Doom Star were the true concern.

  Now, the Web Mind discovered its secret lines to other locations on the planet. It had laid them long ago, a way to thwart the limiting time effects of the surrounding warp.

  What the Web Mind found was infuriating. The star lord loaded up the Doom Star with its cyborg creatures. The energy being also stole cyborg equipment.

  Oh no, this was too much, far too much. The Web Mind wasn’t going to stand for this theft. Yes, the star lord controlled those cyborgs. But there were other cyborgs in other locations on the planet that would still obey the true cyborg lord.

  Now, the star lord would learn its folly of double-crossing the greatest, most supreme intellect in the universe, which was the Web Mind, of course.

  You are about to die, Star Lord, and I am the one who is going to destroy you. No one betrays me and gains from it, absolutely no one.

  -57-

  Lord Acton’s eyes gleamed. “Without the Web Mind’s viruses, this would have been impossible. I am amazed at the Old Federation equipment. I also have a new appreciation for the cyborgs, for the Web Minds in particular. They may indeed be arrogant and even pompous, but there is a reason for that. They are the super geniuses. I am a mite, as the one called you earlier, Centurion, compared to it.”

  “I remember,” Tanner said, working hard to control his impatience. It was difficult, at times, interacting with the highly intelligent. Both Greco and Acton liked to spout off when they should have been working as hard as possible to complete the project.

 

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