Brabazon allowed his mind to be guided by Colmarrie who, it had to be said, was a very competent telepath, more so than he was himself. Although Brabazon had always been able to communicate by mental thought, he hadn’t been blessed with other paranormal powers.
This wasn’t the case with the mutant woman Colmarrie. Unusually for a Dyason, her mental powers were well developed and quite potent. Obviously there was something about the radioactive pollution of the southern wastelands where she was born that dramatically changed the mind as well as the body. Brabazon had noticed before that Colmarrie’s thinking process was different from anybody else he knew. Her mind was sharp and effective, of that there could be no doubt; it was also the way she thought, it was—unique.
Together they roamed the place where thoughts operated. Until this time, the connection between telepathy and the sub-ether had only been theorised at. However, all this was about to change as Colmarrie finally proved the theory to be an actuality.
As Josh Brabazon gamely followed the massively more potent mind of the mutant he became aware of what she was searching for. Colmarrie was searching for a spike, an anomaly,—something that simply shouldn’t be there. Humanoid thought formed a particular pattern; it had a certain recognisable waveform. The actual detail of the waveform was individual to each person, but the basic shape of the thought was always the same. What the mutant was looking for was something different, something alien to this.
It took a while, but eventually they found what they were looking for and indeed it was a massive spike. There, cutting through the swirling mists of thought and sub-ether was a harsh alien waveform that peaked and troughed in a fashion that could never occur naturally. It stood out against the vibrant, multicoloured wisps of space. The organised regularity and strength of the wave, the sheer alienness of it, confirmed it for Colmarrie; this was what they were looking for.
‘There!’ she exclaimed telepathically at Brabazon. ‘That’s it! See how unnatural it is! That has to be the signal the Starweb is sending to Dominator. Jam that and we should be able to return control to the ship.’
‘I see that. You’re right it must be the signal! I was dubious at first, but this is incredible! But how are we going to block the waveform?’ Brabazon thought back at her. ‘It’s completely alien to our own thought processes?’
‘I do not know friend Brabazon,’ she thought back at him. ‘I was hoping that as you have more experience in these things, you could tell me. However, now that we know that it is here, I suggest we return to our bodies to consider the matter before taking action.’ The Terran scientist agreed then, like an elastic band stretched to the limits, the two telepaths released the tension and returned to their physical forms.
As soon as Brabazon became aware of being back on the bridge of the derelict once more, his comm link hissed into life and Anderson hailed him.
‘Josh, this is Anderson,’ the marine officer began. ‘Do you copy?’
Brabazon shook his head and tried to concentrate his thoughts. He was still groggy from his incredible journey. ‘Yeah, I’m here—just about,’ he responded. ‘What’s the situation? Have you found anything useful?’
‘Well the bad news is that all the power packs we’ve looked at are pretty well exhausted. There’s some juice in them, but not enough to really do any good,’ Anderson told them. ‘We have found some shuttle craft and some other ships in the main hangar, but they’re as dead as a dodo.’
‘Damn! That’s a shame. We’re drawing as much power from our shuttle as we can spare as it is. There’s really nothing more to give,’ Brabazon told the marine officer. ‘Colmarrie’s possibly found a way to jam the planetoid without the need to pump lots of power into a transmitter. But I had hoped we could at least power up some of the armament and cause a diversion of some sort.’
The face of Anderson suddenly lit up on the mini display of the comm unit. ‘Well if it’s a diversion you’re after,’ he said with a grin. ‘Then I might just have the thing for you! But I think you guys had better come down and take a look for yourselves.’
Colmarrie raised an eyebrow, her curiosity aroused. ‘What have you found captain?’ she asked. ‘What is so interesting we need to see it for ourselves?’
‘Well, I need a second opinion…’ Anderson replied stroking his chin, ‘but I think we just might have found some sort of nuclear warhead!’
Colmarrie and Brabazon looked at each other in surprise. ‘Are you sure Anderson?’ Brabazon demanded. ‘What makes you think its a nuke?’
‘Well, my scanner tells me it contains radioactive material with an incredibly long half-life. The little red light on the control panel is still blinking and the bastard is shaped like a missile warhead,’ the marine captain told him bluntly. ‘What do you think it is Josh?’
Colmarrie immediately pushed herself toward the turbo-lift and Brabazon followed. ‘We’re on our way down!’ the scientist called into his comm link.
The mutant fighter had seen enough; it was obvious this replica of the bitch Nimue was a greater threat than the real woman. He couldn’t understand why they were just all standing here. Why didn’t they just reduce the place to rubble and get the hell out of there? The appearance of all the ghostly images of horrific creatures was unholy! They had no reason, no right, to be here! Surely they should simply destroy this nightmare world and leave!
Somewhere back in the wastelands of Dyason he had a woman and child. He should be there, not lost on an alien contraption thousands of light years from home with a religious zealot demanding they repent for their sins!
He looked at the arrival of the holographic aliens filling up the pews of the temple and decided that enough was enough. The mutant dropped to his knees, aimed at the android and moved to squeeze the trigger. He got no further…
The eyes of the biological robot flashed, it raised one hand and pointed it at the hostile humanoid. The air in the cathedral became electric, full of static like the moment before a lightning strike. Then a flash of blue light leapt from the replicants hand and hit the mutant squarely in the chest. The unfortunate Dyason was thrown into the air and landed dead beside the nearest pew, the front of his environment suit scorched and smouldering.
‘By the gods! How did the thing do that?’ Tallok uttered in shock.
‘Halt! Nobody else open fire!’ Myrddin turned on the troopers and bellowed at them, hands raised. ‘This only makes matters worse for you all! Put your weapons on the floor and leave them there. This is not the time for aggression!’
The rest of the troopers looked hesitantly at Gulag for approval. The clone looked at the still smouldering body of the unfortunate mutant, then back at the android. Myrddin was right, this wasn’t the time for aggression. However, he was determined that their time would come. Fear was beginning to give way to anger.
‘That’s right Gulag. Focus your thoughts! Control your anger! You’ll need it later to extract your people from this place, but for now use just your wits!’ came the thought from Myrddin.
‘Put your weapons down,’ Gulag ordered the troopers, turning back to face the biological robot. ‘Go ahead then bitch! Go ahead with this sham; this laughable inquisition. You know as well as I do that you can’t make us responsible for the actions of a race that died out aeons ago!’
The replica Nimue lowered its hand, ignored the clone and strode up several wide steps to a podium built into the altar. Then she turned and faced the holographic multitude that now filled the temple.
She looked at her computer-generated audience and began in a voice devoid of emotion. ‘Members of the Starweb, guardians of the memory of the murdered children, these humanoids stand before you as representatives and examples of their race. Under normal circumstances we would simply carry out the necessary fumigation process and remove the vermin. However, the unusual means of transportation through the space-time continuum has aroused our interest. As has the biological make-up of some of their number. The question we have to ask ourselves is;
are they responsible for the sins of their race?
‘Therefore a stay of execution has been granted while the Starweb considers these matters. However, as we have just seen, the humanoids are savage and violent. One of their number has already attempted to pollute the gardens. We have no choice but to make them answerable for their actions.’
The android turned and faced the clone who stared at her with malevolence. ‘Do you accept the sins of your race? There can be no doubt that humanoids have polluted the universe with savagery and violence. Your race stands accused of blasphemous disregard for God and the beauty of His nature. Are you willing to repent and
accept penance?’
Gulag ran halfway up the stairs and pointed a finger at the robotic Nimue. ‘I accept nothing!’ he answered angrily. ‘What right do you have to accuse us of crimes committed by an extinct people? What right do you have to threaten my race with genocide? What right do you have to threaten my ship and its people? Who are you to play God?’
A vicious mental bolt hit him once more making him wince and stagger despite his mental shields. ‘Careful lad! Careful!’ Myrddin urged telepathically. ‘This is for real. The Starweb will force you to answer the questions! There will be the chance to make good your escape later, but until then you have to buy time!’
‘Escape? How?’
‘It is better that you don’t know until it happens,’ came the reply.
‘Only through penance can you seek redemption!’ the android stated once again. ‘Your words and actions condemn you as the same people despite the subtle differences we have noted. Therefore, do you accept your sins? Only by admitting your wrong-doings can you save your people. Surely you can understand this?’
‘Are you telling me that if I personally accept the sins you speak of, you will not fumigate, not exterminate my people?’ the clone demanded.
‘No!’ Myrddin warned him mentally, ‘Whatever you do don’t accept the sins! The penance is extermination!’
Like a needle in an old stuck record, the replicant quoted once more, ‘Only through penance can you seek redemption!’
Gulag turned and face the multitude of holographic species and bellowed, ‘No we do not accept the responsibility of your extinction! How can you compare and confuse us with a people who are as dead as you are? Whatever happened here took place thousands of generations ago! Planning to exterminate us is the real sin and you’re committing it!’
‘You claim not to be sinful, yet you carry weapons of destruction into the house of God. You are violent and blaspheme—sins in themselves. So how can you not expect to pay a penance for such actions?’ the robot asked in a maddening, monotone voice.
‘We carry weapons to defend ourselves in the same manner as you defend yourself!’ Gulag retorted hotly. ‘How can you accuse us of aggression when you have forced us to come to this place against our will, and you murder one of my crew?’
‘We carry out God’s will.’
‘You don’t carry out God’s will. You carry out your own will!’
Gulag’s outburst was ignored. The android prosecutor went straight on to the next question addressing not the humanoids, but the holographic representatives of the extinct species. Gulag knew from the machine’s behaviour that the 2323 computer and the Starweb had no real interest in hearing what he had say; Gulag and his crew were damned regardless. There was no doubt they would be given the ultimate penance. The psychotic planetoid computer and the Starweb were simply satisfying their own curiosity. The lost crew were there to provide entertainment, for the benefit of Starweb nothing more.
Whatever scheme Myrddin had for their escape he had better spring it into action soon, because Gulag didn’t think he could keep this ridiculous cat and mouse game going for much longer.
‘Your ship is of the same design and construction as those blasphemous vessels flown by the destructive vermin who built them. Your biological construction is mostly the same as theirs, yet you claim to have evolved on an entirely different home-world and have no knowledge of the godless creatures. How do you explain this?’ the biological contraption demanded.
‘Now what do I say?’ Gulag pleaded to Myrddin. ‘I don’t have the answer to that question! We don’t have an explanation! I came here to find the answer to that question myself! How much longer do I have to continue this farce?’
‘It doesn’t really matter what you say. The Starweb is going to condemn you anyway, all you have to do is keep the damn thing going until the opportunity arises,’ was the reply.
‘What bloody opportunity? You’re not exactly a lot of bloody help at the moment old man! What is it we’re waiting for? What is the escape plan!’ Gulag retorted angrily.
‘It will happen and soon, I promise! And when it does I’ll be there! Just stick with it lad.’
‘The vessel we travelled in was discovered on our planet,’ Gulag told the robotic Nimue and the holographic audience. ‘It’s true that we’re biologically similar to those who created this space-station. However, we have no knowledge of the race who built the ship. The reason we are travelling through the universe is to find the answers to these questions. You, the Starweb, must know the answers we seek. Why don’t you tell us why our race is so similar?’
‘The Guardians are not here to answer your questions, they are here only to determine your guilt,’ the android priestess continued in a maddeningly stubborn manner. ‘As you have no explanation, we have no option but to presume that your race is the same as the polluters. You are the sinners!’
‘This is ridiculous! How can we be condemned? We’ve had no dealings with the Starweb before. We know nothing about the race that built you!’
‘You blaspheme once more! Your race never built the Starweb!’ the image of Nimue flared, an accusing finger pointed at Gulag. ‘God created the Starweb to act as guardians of His worlds. We have seen and heard enough! Redemption can only be achieved through penance.’
The replicant Nimue turned and faced the audience, the representatives of all the extinct species and the worlds dominated by the Starweb. It raised its arms and bellowed theatrically, ‘Members of the Starweb council, guardians of the memories of the murdered children, how do you find this race of people? Are they sinners who have committed acts of blasphemy, savagery and violence?’
The holographic audience leapt to their feet and as one the multitude roared, ‘Sinners!’
Gulag ran up the rest of the stairs and faced the android image of his mother, his creator and his lover. ‘This is insane! What sort of psychotic fanaticism is this? You have no right to call us sinners you bitch! Do you hear me? This is insane!’
The robot completely ignored him. Instead it turned, tolled the bell three times and declared, ‘The Guardians agree that the humanoids are sinners. Only through penance can they seek redemption. Their penance will be death! Extermination of the vermin will begin immediately!’
As the machine declared this, the floor of the temple rocked and the conical walls shook. It was as if the planetoid was being rocked by an earthquake. Myrddin entered the clone’s mind and urged him, ‘This is it Gulag! This is the time! Seize the moment, it will be your only chance! Meld your mind with mine and strike at the heart of the Starweb!’
Not needing to be told twice, Gulag entwined his thoughts with the ancient Terran’s and prepared to strike at the alien mentality.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Dominator's shuttle, Extremity Station
Do you really think this will work Josh?’ Anderson asked the scientist as they finished stripping off their environment suits and preparing the shuttle.
‘Yes…no…well, maybe!’ Brabazon uttered, his hands flashing over the control panel. ‘Not that one! The other one!’ he yelled at Colmarrie who sat in the co-pilot’s seat tapping at the systems panel.
‘Sorry!’ she muttered.
‘Look Anderson, in theory it should work, but as we’ve never done it before we can’t be sure. We’ll just have to hope and pray,’ Brab
azon told the marine captain. ‘Now make sure your people are strapped in tight, ‘cause I’m about to light the wick!’
‘You’ll do just fine Josh. I’ve got every faith in you!’ the big marine slapped the wiry scientist on the shoulder and left the cockpit.
‘Thanks,’ Brabazon muttered dryly. ‘Okay Colmarrie are we ready? Then let’s get this show on the road!’
The thrusters of the shuttle fired briefly once in one direction, then vectored and fired rapidly in two other directions in rapid succession. At first nothing happened, the massive bulk of the derelict starship to which the shuttle was still attached continued to tumble. Brabazon desperately scanned his instruments, swearing blindly. There appeared to be some difference in the attitude of the wreck but it was still too early to be sure.
The shuttle’s computer automatically fired the engines once more. Again the nozzles vectored to another position after a few seconds and once more the engines flamed. This time there was a visible difference; the tumbling of the ancient starship was easing, she was slowly settling onto an even keel. The thrust of the still docked shuttle acting as attitude controls was gradually working. After another few minutes there was one final blast from the shuttle and the derelict finally stopped tumbling and faced toward the gargantuan planetoid.
‘Well, that’s stage one of the grand plan completed,’ Brabazon said to Colmarrie with a sigh of relief, mopping the sweat off his brow. ‘Now for the second stage. Is there anywhere in particular you want to park this baby?’
She looked at the massive planetoid half-lit by the feeble rays of the distant sun. It looked for all the world like a fused scrap heap, with sections of old starships and materials added without any apparent scheme, or organisation. In some places, it looked as if even asteroids had been incorporated into the chaotic structure. Bearing in mind what they knew now, it was clear to her that the Extremity Station computer had forced the crews of the derelict ships to extend the original space-station. Why it had created such a bizarre shape was a mystery that only the psychotic computer knew the answer to.
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