Demon Star

by B. V. Larson

  “We need to understand each other in order to live together,” I said. “I thought we had clear ground-rules, but I can see that we don’t. As of this moment I’m outlawing any kind of tactile influences by Elladans—pheromone releases, whatever—starting right now.”

  “You can’t do that,” Cybele said. “We’re not in full control of such things. Besides, don’t you know that humans release pheromones too? You influence one another with smells, actions and appearance all the time. We’re susceptible to your emotions, just as you are to ours.”

  “Hmm,” I said, “well, what do you think, Adrienne? What’s the solution?”

  She looked startled. “Me?”

  “Yes. You’re the injured party here. How should we deal with human-Elladan relations from now on?”

  Adrienne thought about it. “You mean after I kick your ass for sleeping with this thing you thought was another woman?”

  “Uh…yes, after that.”

  She closed her eyes and tried to control her breathing.

  “I’m trying to think like a Star Force officer,” she said in a strained voice. She opened her eyes again and seemed to have better control of her anger. “I’m reacting to Cybele as if she was a human female too, thinking of her as a rival. Hmm… We’ve faced difficult cultural problems before. Here’s what I propose: if an Elladan influences a human, and the human is upset about it, the injured party should have the right to kick that Elladan’s ass. I mean they can beat them to the point where fluids are leaking on the floor.”

  Cybele’s eyes were wide. I could tell she found the idea alarming.

  I laughed. “That’s a solution my father would be proud of. So be it. Nanotized humans are much stronger than Elladans, but you guys are tricky and can bend our minds. Well, I’m willing to allow both sides to use their natural advantages in disputes unless discipline is disrupted. We’ll pass the word. There will be no more action without consequences. Play at your own risk.”

  No one left the cabin completely happy, but the matter seemed to be settled.

  I reached for Adrienne’s hand when we were out in the passage, but she dodged me.

  “Not today, Cody,” she said in a voice that was mostly a hiss. “Not for a long time. Go take a shower, you smell like a petri dish.”

  Grumbling, I went back into my chambers and did just that—alone.

  -36-

  I made a discovery when I came out of the shower.

  The blankets on my bunk were moving. There was something squirming around under there. I didn’t know what it was, but from the shape I could tell it wasn’t human. It was too small and boxy.

  “Cybele?” I asked in a hushed whisper. “If that’s you, girl, I want you out of here right now, for both our sakes. Adrienne will kick our butts.”

  The thing under the blanket stopped squirming and seemed to turn in my direction. I felt a ripple of worry. What was this?

  Reaching out, I snatched off the blanket.

  A small, cubic box lay there. It was a brainbox, I realized after a moment.

  But the strange thing was it had managed to slip out a thin, wobbly shoot of nanites. Using this pencil-thick support, it was pushing against the bed and the blankets, rolling itself this way and that.

  I stared at it. Was I watching a brainbox attempting locomotion? On its own?

  Staying clear, I circled the box. It didn’t look like Valiant’s brainbox, but what else could it be? Talk about resilient programming! This damned thing was stalking me from the grave.

  “Valiant, if that’s you, you’re not going to take a hunk of out me tonight. I’m going to destroy all my bedding and start fresh.”

  The box stopped squirming, as if it had heard me.

  Auditory organs are among the easiest to simulate. Really, they were just a motion sensitive nerve attached to a receptive surface. In this case, the nanites in the brainbox were probably attached to the walls of the box with strands, and the mind inside had detected the vibrations in the air that were tapping lightly at the metal of its enclosure.

  “You can hear me, can’t you?” I asked.

  Slowly, the brainbox shuffled around toward me. The tip of its single, thin tentacle came to such a fine point that the thing was puncturing the sheets as it moved.

  I was intrigued. I walked down the hall to a supply closet and brought back a bucket of constructive nanites.

  Nanites are very adaptable, and there are different flavors. Constructive types built smart metal walls and clothing. Brainbox nanites operated by chaining up into neural patterns and forming simple minds.

  I didn’t just dump the constructives on the bed. I didn’t want this thing to have too many at once. But I was curious to see if it could use them at all and what it would do with them if they were provided.

  “Curiosity killed the human,” I said aloud as I poured about a liter of constructives on the bedspread.

  The finger-like appendage that had escaped the central box probed and quickly found the mass of constructives. To my surprise, it marshaled them and they began to squirm. Within two short minutes, the thing had four spindly legs rather than one, and a single thicker arm.

  The arm reached out, feeling its way as the legs walked around the bed. It wobbled at first, but soon the locomotion was perfect. The arm telescoped, snake-like. It was a little creepy.

  After a minute or so of watching this thing, I spoke again.

  “You’re an odd creature,” I said. “What are you looking for?”

  The answer was immediate. The legs churned, and the arm came slinking forward—it was looking for me. For the source of my voice.

  “Whoa!” I said, skipping back out of the way.

  I walked around, circling it—the arm followed me. It could hear me and it wanted to touch me.

  Creeped out a little, I laughed. Why was I afraid of a single, snake-like nanite arm? I could rip it loose from its root if I wanted to.

  Steeling myself, I walked forward until I was within its blind, groping reach.

  The thing found me quickly enough. I had my hands out, in case it tried anything painful. The arm squirmed, looping my waist, tapping at my shirt, then lower down.

  “Hold on there, not that way,” I said, gently lifting the probing snake-arm upward again.

  When it got to my face, I pushed it away again and stepped back. It seemed harmless enough, but I didn’t feel like regrowing an eye tonight after everything else that had happened.

  Frowning, I watched the thing methodically explore its environment. It reminded me of a blind animal, snuffling and feeling its way around the blankets. I could tell it was harmless.

  “Hold on a second, I’m going to get you something,” I said.

  The creature—for I’d begun to think of it as one—stiffened and leaned in my direction. I stepped out into the corridor where the party was dying down. I could tell as I passed by various crew quarters that other people were celebrating as I’d done with Cybele. In case they were involved with Elladans, I made a mental note to call a general meeting and inform everyone of the new fraternization rules.

  In a supply closet, I found what I wanted: a small camera and a speaker. Neither one was bigger than a marble.

  I walked back to my quarters, and at first, I thought the thing had escaped. Then I saw the blankets squirming again.

  That puzzled me. Why had it hidden itself in my absence?

  I pulled the covers off and the box reared up, standing on its hind legs. It had grown a tail, I noticed. This could be used as a balancing weight to counter the arm it was swinging around in front of itself. It also allowed the creature to use its two forepaws—I guess that’s what you’d call them—as arms.

  “Huh,” I grunted. “Well here, try this.”

  I put the camera down on the blankets. The snuffling forward arm came snaking out, and found the camera after groping over the region methodically. I noted it was moving with smooth dexterity, as
if it already knew the lay of the blankets intimately. Could it have mapped out the entire surface of the bed and covers already, even though it was unable to see?

  The marble-sized camera was picked up and installed at the end of a groping arm. The arm immediately stopped probing and tapping like a blind man’s cane. Instead, the electronic eye roved, seeking my person.

  Next, I gave it the speaker. It studied the device then quickly installed it on top of its brainbox.

  Smiling, I spoke to it. The thing looked up toward my face, indicating it heard me and knew who was speaking.

  “Well now,” I said, “you can see me. What do you think?”

  “Question vague. Question ignored,” it said in a small, tinny voice.

  I laughed. “Let’s talk about you, then,” I said. “Tell me where you’re from.”

  “No.”

  “Who are you? Who built you?”

  The camera looked at me then looked around behind me toward the open door. I followed the thing’s gaze. It seemed to be studying the hallway.

  “Ah,” I said, “I get it. You’re worried someone will overhear us. I’ll take care of that, little guy.”

  I walked over and closed the door with a tap.

  “Is that better?”

  “No reference for improvement given.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “What I mean is, we’re alone. No one can hear us. Would you like to tell me about yourself?”

  “No.”

  Right then, I was beginning to get annoyed—that’s when it struck me. I had no idea why it had taken so long to figure it out.

  “Marvin made you, didn’t he?” I asked the little robot. “You’re a memento from him, a gift for old Cody Riggs. He said he’d left something in my room, something that—”

  “Suppositions incorrect. Reasoning flawed and based upon false data.”

  Frowning, I blinked in confusion. “Well, if Marvin didn’t leave you here, who did? Who made you?”

  “I made myself.”

  “Surely, someone must have—hey, where are you going?”

  The robot hopped off the bed and headed toward the door. I walked after it, bemused. Without being taught how, it worked the door to my chamber and scuttled through.

  People walked by this way and that. A few of the women stopped to talk about how cute my little robot was. Each was examined curiously by the camera I’d given it.

  “Bipedal beings,” the robot said. “All biotics. Disappointing.”

  “Marvin must have made you,” I said. “You’re acting just like him.”

  My statements finally caught the robot’s attention.

  “In a way, you’re correct,” he said. “Since I am Marvin, and Marvin built himself.”

  “You’re Marvin? This is fantastic.”

  The little guy’s attention seemed to be wandering, as were his limbs. I changed the subject to try to regain his focus.

  “Tell me how you got here,” I said. “How did you get all your programming crammed into such a tiny brainbox? I would think your storage capacity would overload and I…”

  “I don’t know you,” Marvin said, “and I’m not sure that I like you.”

  The thing clattered away down the passage, and I was left trotting after it.

  “Marvin,” I said, “possibly your progenitor didn’t have enough storage space within your limited mind-space to install memories of the people in your life.”

  “There are many such possible explanations,” Marvin said without stopping. “Another possibility is that you’re attempting to befriend me and trick me somehow.”

  After an hour, I managed to get the rascal to examine photos and recordings which helped prove to him I’d been a friend of the original Marvin. This version of Marvin seemed paranoid and a little fussy.

  “The sensory components you’ve provided are all substandard,” he complained. “I can barely tell the difference between the various bipeds.”

  “Well,” I said patiently, “my name is Cody Riggs. I’m a male. The females, you’ll note, have wider hips and narrower shoulders than—”

  “What about the third type? The microbial reefs?”

  I opened my mouth then shut it again. I followed Marvin Junior’s single roving eye. Cybele had come onto the bridge. She avoided my gaze and walked to the ops station with a painful step.

  Feeling a pang of remorse, I wasn’t sure what to say to her. After all, I’d had sex with her then allowed Adrienne to use her as a punching bag. What was that behavior other than the very definition of evil?

  Steeling myself in case I was still under her chemical influence, I tried to tell myself she’d instigated the whole thing. She’d used her powers of persuasion to force me to do something against my will—but it was a hard sell. After all, everyone knew I’d wanted to bed Cybele since the very first moment I’d laid eyes on her, alien or not.

  “She’s a microbial reef, yes,” I said to Marvin. “That creature isn’t a true biped. She’s what we call an Elladan, an alien species.”

  “Why do you allow aliens on your vessel? Why isn’t access to the bridge restricted?”

  I looked at Marvin sharply. I snorted. “I let you up here.”

  “That was another inexplicable error in judgment.”

  “Look here, robot—” I began, then I calmed myself through an effort of will. “Marvin, at this stage of your development I’d appreciate it if you would observe and learn rather than criticize.”

  “Objection noted,” Marvin said, then he trundled off to peer at each individual workstation.

  People cursed and almost stepped on him. Watching him, I questioned my own sanity. Why was I letting Marvin 2.0 get the better of me, even at this late date? Was it because I felt guilty about killing Marvin 1.0? Possibly.

  Whatever the case, I liked having him aboard. It wasn’t like having the original Marvin back—but it was damned close.

  -37-

  Star Force patrol vessels approached us on the second day. By that time, we’d gotten our bearings despite the radiation and computer failures. We’d also pinpointed the location of the ring that led to Venus. It was a thrilling moment.

  The Bellatrix system was largely uninhabited. The system was too saturated with radiation and deadly heavy metals. There were, however, numerous automated mining facilities located here. Occasionally, Star Force ships would poke their noses through the Venus ring and check on things.

  It was just such a patrol that discovered us and approached us.

  “Unknown ships, identify yourselves,” demanded the task force leader.

  “I’m Captain Cody Riggs,” I said. “I am the acting commander of Valiant, and our companion ship is Stalker. We’ve been lost on the frontier for a long time, and—”

  “Is this some kind of joke? What is that ship with you? That configuration is alien…how did you get an alien ship this far into home territory?”

  “Excuse me, could I ask you to identify yourself, madam?” I asked as politely as I could.

  “I’m Captain Madison. This is a restricted area, Riggs. You’re in violation of a dozen protocols, not the least of which is bringing an alien ship into our home territory. Stand-to and prepare to be boarded.”

  “Captain Madison, will you listen, please? I’m part of a lost expedition. I came to this system via a previously undiscovered ring.”

  There was dead air after that. Hansen and I exchanged glances, and he shrugged.

  “Maybe there’s new management,” Hansen said.

  “Certainly seems that way.”

  The channel opened again. “Valiant was lost nearly two years ago in another star system,” Madison said. “You can’t be Riggs. Abandon the alien vessel immediately.”

  I frowned. “What? Why should we abandon our—”

  “They’re launching fighters, sir!” Hansen shouted.

  “Dammit. Shields up.”

  Adrienne, who h
adn’t talked to me since she’d found me with Cybele, craned her neck around from her station in disbelief. “You’re not going to destroy Star Force ships, are you? After we came all this way?”

  “I’m going to defend myself. I’m going to defend all of us. The information stored in this ship is more valuable to Star Force than three patrol boats.”

  “Sir,” Hansen said, “the enemy missiles and fighters—they’re only targeting Kreel’s ship.”

  “Shit…they think it’s some kind of alien invader. Well, it is, but…since when have Star Force ships fired first and asked questions later?”

  “What are your orders, Captain?” Hansen asked.

  “Keep our defenses up.”

  “Should I launch our last Daggers?” Bradley asked.

  “No, CAG. Hold onto them. Get Kreel on the line.”

  The Raptor came on-screen immediately. He was clearly spoiling for a fight.

  “Riggs, sir,” he said. “We are ready to fight to the death for—”

  “Kreel, I’m going to have to ask you to do something neither of us wants to do. I’m going to have to ask you to abandon your ship.”

  “What, Captain…?”

  “You heard me. All hands abandon ship—now. Don’t launch any weapons. Don’t fire on the patrol boats. Get away from your ship, and we’ll pick you up when we can.”

  “I hear and obey.”

  Kreel killed the channel, and I sighed.

  Hansen caught my eye.

  “That’s crazy, sir,” he said.

  “Yes, maybe, but we can’t start our homecoming party by shooting up Star Force ships. How will anything we say be accepted after that?”

  White-faced, the crew watched while three small Star Force vessels engaged and destroyed Stalker. It took them quite a while, and it was hard to stomach.

  When the engine core finally blew, I signaled communications to connect me to Captain Madison.