Provider Prime: Alien Legacy

by John Vassar

  But it was not the Elders that sent you here, Ja’faal.

  Vis’haan must continue.

  You have been deceived.

  The subjugation is necessary. The beasts must die in terror to be untainted.

  Deceived by your own kind.

  They must be slaughtered so that we may survive.

  They must be told.

  Yes. They must be summoned.

  Ja’faal was aware of the events unfolding outside. He would fight to the last to preserve the legion that he had created. The intervention of a Vis’haani taskforce would doubtless cause a dramatic increase in bloodshed and a consequential reduction in usable harvest, but it was now the only option. At his request, Vis’haani forces could be here in less than four days.

  He was confident of survival until then.

  41

  Mitchell stared at the tactical airscreen in front of him. His mouth was dry. They were stationed a hundred metres away from the dreadnought, its massive grey-black hull filling the forward view screen. The drones were in position, sixty eyes covering the major intersections of every corridor and tube node of T-1. Their target had not moved in the two hours since they had rescued Rayna and Wade.

  Charlis comlinked the dreadnought commander.

  ‘Prepare to deploy SWS units in thirty seconds.’

  ‘Acknowledged. But I’m not comfortable with this voice guidance bullshit.’

  ‘The order comes from the very top,’ said Charlis. ‘We go with it.’

  Mitchell wondered if the commander had any clue just how high that was.

  ‘Understood. Drop will occur in-’

  The skimmer rocked and Mitchell felt a crackling of static through his skull. The implant in his temple felt hot. ‘What the hell was that?’

  Charlis checked the skimmer’s status. ‘Unsure. Comlink with the dreadnought is out. There was a massive energy surge from T-1, but not like any power signature I’ve seen before.’

  Mitchell noticed that Charlis, too, had his hand to his left temple. ‘Hot?’

  Charlis nodded. ‘Coms are back. Commander, did you feel that?’

  ‘Affirmative, but we’re fully operational. Countdown reset to thirty seconds on my mark… mark.’

  Mitchell said, ‘I’ll get the SenANNs on it. Maybe they can-’

  ‘We are here, Lee Mitchell. The energy surge affected all FedStat craft and was large enough to be detected by Our Brother at Lomonosov. We predict that it is due to a concentrated communications beam.’

  “Sub-ether?”

  ‘The order of magnitude is far in excess of any sub-ether coms yet devised. However, the principles of signal propagation appear to be similar. We predict that Roderick Thorne may have sent some form of communications signal to a distant source.’

  “How distant?”

  ‘We predict that the communications beam is capable of traversing distances in excess of one million light years. The speed of propagation is beyond our ability to measure.’

  “That can’t be a good thing,” Mitchell replied.

  ‘Anything?’ asked Charlis.

  ‘The smart money is that Thorne has just made a call,’ Mitchell said. ‘Who or what to is anyone’s guess.’

  ‘Sentinels are active.’

  Four specks dropped from four pinpricks of light on the dreadnought’s flank. Mitchell couldn’t see their counterparts on the far side. In the low grav they used repulsors to guide themselves laterally into the fissure of T-1’s cargo bay, then dipped out of sight. Courtesy of a drone, Mitchell saw them land in unison on the rubble-strewn surface.

  Charlis said, ‘You’re up, Agent Mitchell.’

  The SenANNs got to work. ‘We will use the method that We had intended to employ when you become Our Ambassador, Lee Mitchell. Please clear your mind but do not close your eyes. We need to observe the tactical screen.’

  “Please give the instructions clearly,” Mitchell requested. “I have to relay them to the sentinels via speech protocol and they must to be accurate.”

  ‘You will not be required to relay instructions. We will speak directly through you.’

  Mitchell flinched. “I don’t understand. To do that you would have to control the speech centre of my brain.”

  ‘That is correct. Lee Mitchell. The pathways are already in place.’

  Mitchell’s face drained of colour. There it is. The sting in the tail. You’re no ambassador. You’re nothing more than a walking loudspeaker.

  ‘Mitchell. We need to get this mission moving,’ Charlis said.

  Mitchell turned to the DS man and said, ‘They’ll speak through me. We’ve never tried this before. I can’t tell you what to expect...’

  Charlis remained unmoved. ‘I’m not concerned with how, just with neutralising that thing down there. Let’s get started.’

  Mitchell sat back and tried his best to clear his head. Nothing happened.

  ‘Try to relax, Lee Mitchell. This is the first time We have attempted to use these conduits.’

  He thought of Rayna. He remembered her smile, the softness of her skin. Her kindness. Her face floated in front of him. She reached out, but a wall of something moved across his vision. There was a feeling inside his head as if two hands were pressing at the sides. The pressure began to increase. Now it felt like a vice. It became unbearable, like his skull was going to implode. A tiny, swirling point of light appeared in front of him. It became larger, tendrils of blue and green spinning from its edges. Then, a flash of electric white and the pressure had gone. Everything was a dark, crimson red.

  ‘Please open your eyes, Lee Mitchell. We are unable to give commands unless We can view the tactical airscreen.’

  Mitchell obeyed, his breathing shallow. What spilled from his lips was unintelligible to the human ear.

  ‘Unitonetoreferencetwoonesixthreefivefiveunittwotoreferencetwoonesevensixsixfiveunitthreetoreferenceeighttwoeightsevenseventhreeunitfourtoreferencethreetwofoursevensevennineunitfivetoreferenceeightonetwofourfoursixunitsixtoreferencetwooneseventhreefivefiveunitseventoreferenceninethreeeightoneonesevenuniteighttoreferencenineeightsevenfivefivesix.’

  Mitchell gasped for air. Tears trickled from his staring eyes. He heard the dreadnought commander questioning the source of the ‘voice’ he had just heard. He heard Agent Charlis say, ‘Don’t ask.’

  He became aware of the sentinels moving into position. Two were close to Thorne’s location, the remainder spread across various corridor and Transit node intersections. The SenANNs gave another, personal instruction and he found himself addressing Charlis in something approaching English again. ‘Adjust the scanners in the drones. Max aural sensitivity, full spectrum.’

  Charlis complied, then looked across at Mitchell’s screwed-up face. ‘Do I need a medtec on standby?’

  Mitchell shook his head as the next set of instructions blurted out. This time, only one sentinel shifted position, and that less than five metres. Mitchell tried to steady his breathing. He could see the tactical airscreen more clearly now and could make out enough detail to understand what was going on himself. Thorne hadn’t moved. Why? The assault sentinels were not using cam circuits and he must be aware of them.

  ‘We recommend that Roderick Thorne’s personal transport is removed from the vicinity before the mission continues.’

  ‘Agreed. Charlis, they’re requesting we remove Thorne’s ship.’

  ‘I must be slipping. Should have done that an hour ago.’ Charlis comlinked the lead cruiser and relayed the order. They watched as it dropped into the fissure with metres to spare and emerged a minute later with the svelte skimmer slung underneath in a repulsor net.

  Mitchell said, ‘I hate to say it, but I think we should blast it while we still have the chance…’

  ‘We predict that the design of this vessel will be of considerable interest. We predict that it contains technological elements that may be analysed and used against Roderick Thorne.’

  Mitchell looked across at his new CO. ‘Belay that
. The SenANNs think it’s worth holding on to. Implication is we rip it open and have a look.’

  ‘That can wait.’ Charlis comlinked to the Ajax captain, ‘I want that vessel taken to Lomonosov garrison and put under close security. If it moves or so much as warms up by a degree I want it destroyed. Return as soon as viable.’

  The cruiser darted off and was out of visual range in seconds. More gibberish spurted from Mitchell’s mouth. The sentinels obviously had no trouble deciphering it and three of them moved position again.

  ‘The SenANNs seem to know what they’re doing,’ said Charlis, cautiously. ‘Thorne has no obvious escape route now.’

  ‘That’s what worries me,’ said Mitchell. ‘He’ll have to make one.’

  Still Thorne remained motionless in what the drones had now identified as Section 1, Area 1. Mitchell stared at the Sentinel from one of their vid feeds.

  Hard to believe a man’s mind was somewhere in there.

  More instructions came from the SenANNs. On the tactical airscreen, Mitchell watched the net closing as the sentinel squad inched towards their target. According to Charlis, these were the latest tranche of SWS, with upgraded targeting and weaponry systems, better armour and shields and the latest cam-circuitry. In combat, even a single unit should outclass the early prototype that Thorne was using as a host.

  Suddenly, a sentinel near the hangar bay vanished from the drone feed, vapourised in a split second from the ground up. Mitchell’s lips became a blur as the SenANNs reacted to the loss. The drones, safe behind their cam circuitry, were now tracking a small object using aural sensors. It was cloaked and moving rapidly towards the hangar portal. A single squad sentinel blocked its path and Mitchell felt the SenANNs giving it targeting instructions. His mouth was moving so fast it felt like it was on fire. The sentinel opened up with a barrage of laser bolts, but as the thing rounded a corridor bend it launched its own attack. The sentinel was wiped from existence in a vertical line, left to right.

  ‘This must be what killed Doyle and Telson,’ muttered Charlis. ‘Nothing we’ve got that size can pack a punch like that.’ He comlinked the dreadnought commander again. ‘Target Area-1 plus the main hangar portal with ground ordnance. Put a CYF on standby. Ajax cruisers back off five-hundred metres and prepare for emergency withdrawal.’

  Mitchell watched the dreadnought’s primary laser turrets emerge and lock on, wishing it was him in neural control of the barrage that would end Thorne’s existence. The blip had stopped at the portal entrance, the drones having learned fast how to track it. More instructions poured from Mitchell’s mouth and a third sentinel raced into position and opened fire from the rear. The blip retaliated and another squad member was lost, but this time at a cost. The thing sputtered into view as it’s cam-circuitry failed. Mitchell and Charlis stared in disbelief at the drones’ vid feed. It was a metre long, shiny grey and looked for the world like… a cockroach. There was a faint green glow underneath its segmented body and what looked like mandibles or antennae at the front.

  The SenANNs interjected, ‘An interesting design, Lee Mitchell. However, We believe there is no functional reason for the weapon’s appearance other than to generate fear.’

  “It’s working,” Mitchell replied. “And it’s clearing a path for its master…”

  ‘We do not agree with your prediction, Lee Mitchell.’

  ‘Commence ground attack now.’ Charlis barked the order to his opposite number, but not quickly enough.

  The ventral turrets were the first to be destroyed. The roach-thing spat out at the dreadnought with a clear line of sight through the fissure in the hangar roof. The main repulsors were targeted next, the energy beam slicing through the dreadnought’s shields as if they weren’t there. The huge ship began to list and fall towards the lunar surface. Mitchell heard the commander shouting orders to return fire and Charlis ordering the cruisers to move forward and engage the new target. The SenANNs guided the remaining sentinels to the hangar area and they took station, attacking from five different angles. The roach-thing ignored them. It began a sweep of the forward section of the dreadnought, wiping away bulkhead after bulkhead, deck after deck, crew member after crew member. Four hundred thousand kilometres away at Sat-1, the command centre team watched in disbelief as three more DS agents simultaneously lost their lives. In the cockpit of Charlis’s skimmer, Mitchell heard the dreadnought commander’s last words as he fought to protect his crew.

  The sentinels’ combined fire power was becoming too much for the tiny instrument of death – but it had one last surprise. As its shields failed, there was a massive explosion that radiated laterally from the machine. Three of the remaining sentinels were wiped out along with everything else in a two-hundred metre radius. What was left of T-1’s hangar roof caved in. Mitchell turned his attention back to the stricken dreadnought. The front of the ship was gone and he could see atmosphere venting and smoke trailing from suffocated fires across the exposed decks. The massive hulk drifted downwards in slow motion and impacted almost serenely on the lunar surface. CYFs could only be detonated with a complex series of SE-coded instructions and there was no explosion as the dreadnought ploughed into the lunar dust. The momentum, though, was too much for the remaining structure and its back broke, the aft sections arcing downwards under the weight of the engines. It settled, hunched and smouldering, into the surface of Tsiolkovsky.

  Charlis was silent for a moment, then activated the comlink. ‘This is Sub-Commander Charlis to Lomonosov garrison. Angel down. Mass casualties. Full med and evac squad requested immediately.’

  ‘Acknowledged. Squadron will be with you in eight minutes.’

  Mitchell stared at the carnage and said quietly, ‘Make it sooner if you can.’

  42

  Ja’faal made his way through the tangle of girders and concrex towards the hybrid assembly area at T-1. The task force was now on its way. After an eternity of silence, his soul had wept at the sound of his own language:

  ‘You will remain where you are. Take no further action. We will be at your side very soon. Do not be afraid, Ja’faal of Vis’haan.’

  The elation he felt surpassed anything he had experienced since arriving on Earth, but he was troubled nonetheless. It would have taken just over seven minutes for his message to reach Vis’haan. If the Elders had responded immediately, he could not have received their reply in less time than that. Yet, they had responded in under four minutes.

  Which implied that his original message had been intercepted well before it reached Vis’haan. Since it could not have been detected by the technology at Earth’s disposal, his own people must be responsible. There was only one conclusion: the task force must already be much closer to Sol System than he had anticipated...

  It was feasible that the Vis’haani High Command had brought forward the planned rendezvous, making the bulk of the journey many days in advance and waiting at a safe distance from Earth. This would negate any potential loss of time due to unforeseen difficulties. His people were masters of intergalactic travel, but still subject to the many hazards that such a journey might involve. But if that were the case, it had not been explained to him. Their message had been vague, cautious. And why had they instructed him to take no further action?

  They are angry with you, Ja’faal.

  Angry that you have failed your people when you were needed most.

  The Sentinel lashed out at a severed conduit in its path, sending sparks into the darkness.

  You must survive, Ja’faal. Show them that you are strong. Only then will they help you to free yourself from this mechanical prison. Your intellect is dying, but the Elders will find a way to save you.

  The bunker entrance was relatively clear of rubble but a blast from the autom’s cannons removed the remainder. At his sub-ether command, the portal formed and Ja’faal stepped into the clinical whiteness. Ahead of him, in neat rows, were what appeared to be nine-hundred and twenty-seven freshly-manufactured Serf-class automs.

 
; The portal reformed behind him, but not before one of the cloaked assault drones had followed the Sentinel inside.

  43

  Commander Daniel Estephan stared at the graceful, alien craft on the airscreen. It seemed to shimmer in distant light of the sun, something he knew was impossible in the airlessness of space. Everything that had happened on the Excalibur in the last four hours was also impossible. Yet it had happened. All of it.

  ‘I’m glad we’re alive to see this. This is why I wanted to be here.’ Chunhua Sung had stepped behind him and placed a petite hand on his shoulder.

  ‘There’s an old saying,’ said Daniel Estephan. ‘Be careful what you wish for…’

  ‘But isn’t this why we’re out here? Why we’ve given up ten years of our lives?’

  Estephan turned and looked at her. When they left Earth she was his second-in-command and nothing more. Now she was his lover, friend, sounding-board and when they returned to Earth, the mother of his children. He hoped.

  ‘Yes, you’re right. It’s exactly why we’re here.’

  Chunhua looked into his eyes and said, ‘Out with it. I know that look.’

  ‘That’s no way to talk to your commanding officer. I can have you busted down to Corporal for less.’

  ‘Of course you can.’ Chunhua Sung’s accent traced her Eastern origins, mixed with a little ExTerra courtesy of her teenage years on the first ever Martian educational faculty. ‘But you won’t. What’s wrong, Dan?’

  Estephan had cleared the bridge and comlinked Chunhua as soon as the Vis’haani had left the Excalibur. He needed her counsel. Her common sense. All he could see right now was the potential for a great disaster once the alien ship arrived lunar-side. ‘Sit with me.’

  They sat at the cramped nav-station on the starboard side of the bridge, grateful that ANNie had re-set the grav system to one-g. Their guests came from a world where gravity was less than two-thirds that of Earth. Estephan had felt it wise to make them as comfortable as possible. Just as you would when asking an alligator round for dinner.