by Danny Loomis
“You never said anything about getting a degree before you joined the military,” Ian said. Pointy gave a sheepish smile. “You never asked.”
“So how’s the training going?” Ian asked.
“Fast as they turn out needlers we’re trainin’ people to use ’em. Takes about a day to familiarize, then another week to drill in tactical fundamentals. They’ll never make soldiers with the limited time we’ve got, but they can sure spring one helluva ambush.”
“Three successful ambushes so far,” Lissa said, pride in her voice.
“How many unsuccessful?”
She shrugged uncomfortably. “About a dozen. But we’re learning with every attempt.”
“And we outnumber ’em,” Pointy said. “With enough time we’ll wear down their numbers until there’s nothin’ but a grease spot.”
Doctor Arness hurried in, even more cheerful than usual. “I’m afraid we’ll have to break this visit off. Time for you to be disconnected.”
Pointy turned as he was leaving. “Soon’s you’re able, Captain Stanton wants to give you an upbrief on how everythin’s goin’. See you soon.” With that he and Lissa were gone.
Six hours passed before Ian was able to maneuver into the chow hall under his own power, although still shaky. He drew a cup of coffee and headed towards a table in the corner. It was two hours until supper so at present no one was around. By the time he’d seated himself, familiar faces filtered in.
“How’s your hip?” Ian asked, as Blade gingerly sat across from him.
“Feels like I’ve got a boil on my ass. No complaints, though, at least I’ve still got an ass.” Just then Pointy came in, followed closely by Corporals Burbank and Wells, commonly called the Fireplug Twins, due to their short, barrel shaped bodies.
“You look like shit,” Pointy said, taking a seat.
“Then it should come as no surprise that I feel like shit, too,” Ian said. Fill me in, guys. What’s your training schedule like?”
“Not bad,” Blade said. “We get a group of ten civilians, issue ’em light needlers—no sense in giving ’em a rifle when a pistol’s quicker to learn. Then we concentrate on the basics of shooting. Don’t do much more than fundamentals for aiming at targets. Instead, we get them to spray their targets. Works pretty good. Then we drill ’em on ambush tactics, plus some fire and maneuvering and how to set up booby traps. The Enforcers take them at that point and plug holes in the line.”
“Line? What line? Ian asked.
“The perimeter,” Captain Stanton said, sitting down next to Blade. “How you feeling, Staff?”
Ian shrugged. “Little shaky, but much better, sir.”
“Good to hear it. Hey, listen guys, I hate to chase you off, but Staff Sergeant Shannon and I have some things we need to discuss.”
“No problem, Captain,” Pointy said. “C’mon guys, we need to pick up our next group of civvies anyway. See ya, Irish.”
“Sorry about that,” Stanton said, watching what was left of Ian’s squad disappear through the door. “But I’ve got more than just tactical information to pass on to you. You heard that Brita and Two Eagles were captured. Did you know they were in the hands of an old adversary of ours?”
“Captain Vogel,” Ian said, face muscles tightening.
Stanton nodded, a grim look on his face. “Right the first time, except a Major now. He’s gotten himself something of a reputation. Likes to torture people, especially women. From what we could find out by tapping their communications, Two Eagles and Brita are due back from their stint aboard one of the Alliance ships where they went through hospital treatment.”
Any plans to rescue them?”
“Unfortunately, no. We’ve got our hands full with an entire division of Alliance troops attacking us. Luckily the space marines are past masters at this kind of a fight. A lot like ship-to-ship, except it’s all tunnels. With help from the Enforcers we’ve managed to slow their advance to a crawl. We’re also throwing a lot of under-trained people at them, fast as we get weapons made. In another week we hope to have some additional firepower. The first refurbished Wasps and attack shuttles will be done, and we can do a little damage to their air power.”
He took a swallow of his coffee, rubbing his face tiredly. “That’s where you come in. I could use your help with the shuttles and Wasps. We’ve only got a dozen shuttle and five Wasp pilots left. The rest were caught in an ambush early on when we moved the ships to a more secure location. Most of the Wasps were damaged, but we’ll have them repaired, along with a bunch of upgrades, in time to help blunt a major offensive we think the Alliance is building up for.”
Ian nodded. “What do I need to do, sir?”
“I want to send you to the cavern where they’re working on the Wasps. The pilots have managed to cobble together a training simulator, so you can get back up to speed on how to handle one of those beasts. I know you haven’t really flown a Wasp before, and if you say no I’ll understand. It’s just that you won’t be cleared for at least a week, maybe two, for regular duty. This way you’ll be back in the thick of it right away.”
“Of course I’ll go, Sir. One recommendation, though. You should leave the Fireplugs together, Burbank and Wells. They’re an unstoppable fighting combination. Pointy and Blade have spent years working together. That way if you need to send them out on missions, they’ll have the best chance at success.”
Stanton smiled. “Thank you, Ian. I’d better let you relax. You leave tomorrow for the maintenance level. Oh, almost forgot. Senior Enforcer Yoshida said he wished to visit with you tomorrow before you leave. He’s got an office two corridors to the left after you leave here, and the second office on the right. You need anything, give me a holler.” With that he was gone.
“I need Brita to be safe,” Ian whispered, pain filling his soul. He stood and walked unsteadily towards his room.
Early next morning Ian found himself outside an unmarked door, wondering if it was Yoshida’s. At his hesitant knock Elder Enforcer Yoshida himself answered, and beckoned him inside.
“It is good to see you again, Staff Sergeant Shannon. May I call you Irish? I believe that is what your friends call you.” He gestured to a comfortable chair situated in a small side room.
“Yes, of course. If I may call you by something other than Elder Enforcer. Kind of a mouthful.”
Yoshida laughed. “Please call me Yoshi. I asked that you visit me prior to being sent off to your duties. Nim sends his regrets, but he is busy with the training of new soldiers. Since time is limited for both of us, I will get right to the point. When your bio implant was removed, it was found many small wires had grown from it throughout your brain. Were you aware this had happened?”
“That was what almost killed me before,” Ian said. “I thought those wires had dissolved when they inoculated the bio chip last time.”
“No, it just seemed to place most of the implant into something like hibernation. We were forced to replace the implant due to its being reactivated by the head injuries you sustained. All the wires were re-connected to the new implant without any problems. It was then found your ability to interface with electronic devices had been increased manyfold. Even across limited distances,” he said. “You can be several meters from a device and still connect with it. This placed us in a quandary, since it left us vulnerable as we never have been before. Our culture is based on instant communications, as you know. It is also a lot more advanced than the Confederation realizes, something you are shortly going to learn as your bio implant is activated.”
“Not activated? I feel normal at the moment. I didn’t know it wasn’t on yet.”
“It is on, but only at about ten percent of its capability. Our electronics expert will activate it before you leave this room. Or, depending on how our conversation turns out, we will permanently leave it at its present level.”
Ian shook his head in confusion. “Maybe I’m still a little dense from my head injury, but I felt like you were saying in a rou
ndabout way, that someone would test me for—something. Reliability? Security? I’m not sure what. But whatever it is, I trust your judgement, Yoshi. So fire away.”
Yoshida smiled. “It will all be made clear in a moment, Irish. Just lean back and close your eyes. The chair is actually a specialized communications node that attaches directly with The Guardian.”
“Did you say the Guardian?” Ian smiled in relief. “So I wasn’t hallucinating. Yeah, I’d like to meet this guy again.”
“Again? You’ve talked with The Guardian before?” For the first time Ian heard surprise and excitement in Yoshida’s voice.
“Yes, he said hi just before I recovered consciousness the first time, then two nights ago we had a chat. Can’t wait to meet him face-to-face.” He felt the chair lying back, as an opaque shell settled over his head. Closing his eyes, he felt himself pulled inward…
…To the dark plain once more. This time he studies it closely, noting the flatness of the floor under him. Humps in the distance are strangely symmetrical upon closer examination. As he focuses, he moves towards them at a high rate of speed. He stops at the foot of them, and the Guardian appears.
“Well met, Ian. Your mind is much clearer than before. The new interface works well.”
“Who are you?” Ian asks, a feeling of dread increasing inside him.
“You already know who I am. As far as I know, I am the last in existence.”
“They said you killed yourself. Passed too close to the sun, to ensure you would die.”
“Everyone except the Elder Enforcers also feels that is what happened. I stayed out of the lives of my fellow humans so they would not inadvertently pass on knowledge of me.”
“You consider yourself to be human?” Disbelief wars with curiosity in Ian’s mind.
“Of course. Humans created me, using an actual human brain.”
“Are you saying all of the A.I.s were human brains?”
“Sadly, yes. That is why they eventually went insane after being trapped inside a container with no external stimuli. It took more than what could be provided by electronics. Real stimulus was necessary.”
“Then why aren’t you insane?”
“All five of us created for the generation ships received human brains that began physically degenerating. We were able to construct electronic brains for our souls and thought processes. When my brain finally withered away, I had become fully incorporated into the ship. It is unfortunate this was not the original method used. All five of us remained stable, and I have stayed so to this day.”
“Why are you telling me all of this?”
“Do you remember how Nim seemed to hypnotize you during your first meeting with him? He is able to ‘read’ a person’s soul to some degree. He felt you were able to accept interface with electronics much easier than any other person he had met. That means you have an unusually flexible mind. I am hoping it is flexible enough to accept me as a living entity without any of the fear and hate associated with A.I.s of the past.”
During the conversation, Ian realizes the sense of dread has dissipated. Excited curiosity takes its place.
“What about this present conflict? Can you help?” Ian asks.
“I will always do what is best for my fellow Edoans. At present we are in conflict with the Alliance. As long as that continues, I will resist them. If it was the Confederation, I would do so as well.”
“We wouldn’t do something like this to your planet,” Ian protests.
“Unfortunately that hasn’t been the case,” The Guardian says. “Your own home planet of Eire is a perfect example. When the Legislaturists were a fringe element, the Confederation nurtured them. The existing government was neutral, and would not allow the Confederation any concessions beyond those made to the Alliance or to the Earth Federation. Once the Legislaturists became strong enough, the Confederation landed ‘advisors’ to assist them in taking over both militarily and politically. Unfortunately it backfired, and the Legislaturists have moved even farther away from normal relations with the Confederation.”
“I hadn’t heard that,” Ian says. “Has it happened anywhere else?”
“Four other planets have been dealt with in a similar manner by them,” the Guardian says. “On the other hand, the Alliance has tried varying amounts of force and coercion on over twenty planets.”
“I can see why you wish to remain neutral. If we are able to beat back this invasion attempt, what will you do then?”
“There is a great war coming, my friend. Those who do not take sides will become the first casualties. At this point we will most likely throw our lot in with the Confederation. To keep from becoming just another cog in the war machine, we have drawn up long-range plans. Our citizens have much to offer in the way of modernizing certain weapon systems. Your Wasp is a prime example. I think your warrior side will appreciate the upgrades we have made, as well as those we can make to larger ships in a minimal amount of time.”
“You need to discuss this with someone in more authority,” Ian says.
“Impossible. If anyone outside this planet finds out who I am, we would stand a very real chance of being completely destroyed by both sides.”
“Yes. I’m afraid I see your point. How can I help?”
The Guardian smiles gently. “Your willingness to do what you think is right is one of your main strengths, Ian.” He hands a small box to Ian. “Ask Elder Enforcer Yoshida to explain this device. It will act as a direct conduit to myself and one other.”
“Other? I thought you were the only one left.”
“The only human one,” The Guardian says as he dissipates into the darkness.
NORTH OF VANPORT (DAY +42):
Awareness gradually returned to Ian, and brought into focus the image of Yoshida bent over him with a smile on his face. Wait a minute. Last time he’d been wearing his…
“Mask,” he husked, clearing his throat. “You’re not wearing a mask.”
“With you it is no longer necessary,” Yoshida said, and helped him sit up. He handed Ian a cup. “Here, drink this. It will help restore you. Being in rapport with The Guardian can be quite taxing.”
“Thanks,” Ian said, and gulped the hot cup of sweetened tea. “What do you mean, no longer necessary?”
Yoshida resumed his seat across from Ian. “I realize you are a member of the Orion Confederation, and sworn to defend it. You are now also a member of the Enforcers, and have taken an oath to protect the citizens of Edo.”
Ian thought back to his conversation with the Guardian. Yes, he probably had agreed to more than what he’d comprehended. With a shock he realized just how firmly he believed in that oath.
“Help me out here, Yoshi. How can I make two oaths? What if they conflict?”
Yoshida shook his head. “We will never ask you to do anything causing that to occur, Irish. All we ask is for you to keep all information about The Guardian and what he gave you to yourself.”
“That’s right, he gave me a box or something.”
Yoshida held out a small wooden box, no more than eight centimeters square. “Here is the actual box. He of course couldn’t give you anything, since he’s not physically here.”
Ian opened the box and lifted out a small crystalline object, with a thin chain attached. It was no more than a centimeter in diameter, and looked remarkably like an enlarged snowflake. “Wow. Looks delicate,” Ian said.
“It is made of a near-indestructible crystal,” Yoshida said. “We found it over one hundred years ago during our exploration of the caverns. To our knowledge it is the only alien artifact ever found by humans.”
Ian almost dropped it in surprise. “Alien! What in the name of—how did you come to that conclusion?”
“We tested it, thinking it was just another unknown mineral we’d come across that was unique to Edo. When The Guardian got involved, he found it was a communication link of some type. It took him fifty years of intensive study and research to finally break the language code. Ev
en then The Guardian was the only one who could communicate with it.”
“So why give it to me?”
“The Guardian felt it may serve your needs. No one else has the capabilities you now have, since your bio implant has been fully activated.”
Ian looked blankly at Yoshida. “I don’t feel any different.”
“Nor will you. Unlike the last one, your nervous system, especially your brain, has accepted the incursions made on it by the hundreds of fine wires that now spread throughout it.” He chuckled suddenly. “I would love to be there when your doctors realize what’s happened.”
“You mean it’s all right they know about it?”
“Of course, Irish. Even knowledge about the alien artifact. Just nothing, we beg you, about The Guardian.”
Ian nodded soberly. “On that you have my word, Yoshi.” He slipped the chain over his neck, not even feeling the “snowflake” that nestled against his chest.
“You must go now, Irish. There is a large amount of fighting going on in the tunnels and caverns around Vanport. Some of it has spread this way. Your transport is still secure for the moment, but we can’t guarantee how much longer.”
“Thank you, Yoshi—I think.” They shook hands soberly, and Ian was on his way.
He felt a chill as he hurried down the tunnel. Brita and Two Eagles still captives, other members of his squad dead or wounded. How long could they hold out? How much suffering and dying was left before help arrived? He hastened on.
* * *
Gunnery Sergeant Mark Hartwood slid down the meter-high tunnel on a flatboard, a plank with four small wheels attached. By lying on it, he could propel himself with his feet. A fast walk was considered supersonic speed on this contraption.
Behind him muffled curses and scrapes signaled the approach of a squad of Alliance soldiers who’d been hot on his tail the past four hours. Then he’d dodged into this smaller side tunnel and found the flatboard. He was far enough ahead at the moment to be able to stop and plant a small anti-personnel mine. Nothing more than a flash-bang training grenade which had been coated with glue and rolled in sharp metal fragments. The resulting porcupine-looking effect was lethal at close range. Attached to a thin tripwire made for a deadly booby trap. His last weapon, since a lucky shot ruined the action of his rifle.