Synchronicity Trilogy Omnibus

by Michael McCloskey

  Finally the time came. Xinmei forced herself to go back into the bedroom. She walked up to the bed to take a closer look. He appeared lethargic.

  “You have trouble?” she asked in her pidgin English.

  “Huge trouble. Leviathan trouble,” he said.

  Xinmei’s hidden link provided the translation. “Big trouble?” she asked.

  “I’m a prisoner here like you. I found out a big secret about this place. That missile I found is an alien ship. Captain is an alien cyborg. We have to get out of this place, and warn Earth. But I’m powerless to do that. I need time to think it over.”

  “Let me help you forget,” she said. Xinmei offered him the program connection. “It is for enjoyment.”

  “I thought you didn’t have... where is that running?”

  “The bed computer,” Xinmei lied. He should be able to see through the deception, but she hoped he wouldn’t remember it later.

  His head lolled to one side and he made a sound halfway between a whimper and a moan. Xinmei approached carefully and took off his shirt. He didn’t seem to notice her. His head moved side to side but his eyes remained unfocused.

  She took off the rest of his clothes. She took a moment to peek at him. Apparently he was quite aroused. She left the garments beside the bed and retreated from the room.

  Xinmei thought about what Mr. Adrastus had said. An alien ship. An alien cyborg. Was he insane? Xinmei had a lot of data about the missile, or ship, or whatever it was. The Westerners were studying it carefully. Clearly, whether it was alien or not, it was important. Xinmei wanted to get that information back to China.

  Each time the spies sent dispatches back home, they ran the risk of being caught. Corporate security could be tight, and of course if anyone dared to run an AI for a while to look for spies, then they’d almost certainly be discovered.

  Xinmei didn’t know exactly how they smuggled out data, but she could guess: Most likely it was added onto regular employee communications in pieces, or else it mimicked an employee message or file. She didn’t think the data went out in a physical storage module on the shuttles, because that would be too slow and clumsy.

  The problem was, since the spinners arrived, things had changed. Everything they’d tried to send out had been flagged and removed from the system.

  Yingtai thought it was the spinners themselves who had started blocking the secret messages, but Xinmei wasn’t so sure. What if VG itself had redoubled their security to keep the secret? They were studying the ship day and night. Xinmei had heard from her fellow spies that traffic to and from the station had tripled. Xinmei knew very well that when security went lax, it became easy to get past most procedures, but once vigilance had been raised, it became much more difficult to defeat.

  Yingtai had mentioned that she and her friends might even be able to escape the base, but she said they would only have one chance, and anyone left behind would likely be caught. Xinmei thought that if she could get on a flight out of the base, she would be able to send the transmission once they had departed. If nothing else, they might be able to leave something on the plane. Surely the MSS back on Earth was wondering why their spies on Synchronicity hadn’t been in touch for so long. They might be looking for clues on anything that came back from the station.

  Xinmei left a drop for Yingtai hidden in the cybloc that controlled the couch. Its normal function was to offer temperature and ergonomic controls, but it had the standard cybloc memory module, which was much more powerful than necessary for the tiny couch controller. Her message proposed that the spies would leave the base and get the message out from the plane or its destination near Earth, one way or another.

  As far as getting off the base, she couldn’t imagine how it might be accomplished. How could the slaves simply walk onto a shuttle and disappear?

  Her link signaled her. Its program had completed. Xinmei padded back into the bedroom.

  “Better now?”

  Mr. Adrastus’s eyes focused on her. She smiled.

  “Yes… much better. I guess if we’re stuck here, at least we have pleasant company.”

  “So, you know too much? They not let you go.”

  “Right. I’m surprised that they haven’t put more security on everything. Unless maybe Alec wants someone to leak it.”

  Xinmei picked up the helmet of his gear from a plush white chair by the bed and sat down across from him.

  “Was more security precaution,” she said. “Helmet can control you. Can make you forget things you see.”

  Mr. Adrastus looked at the helmet like it was about to attack him. “It’s done something to my brain?”

  “No. I disable it. Otherwise, you not find anything out. Then I not find anything out, either.”

  “You? You knew about it?” he stared at the helmet. “Wait a minute! Captain has trapped me here because of that! He discovered it. He said I caused a malfunction.”

  “I did not know. Very sorry,” she said rapidly. “I here to find out things. To report back. We work together. Have others like me. I arrange our escape.”

  “That’s… I guess that’s a good thing! I need to figure out how to get away and warn VG about this. Hell, warn the whole world!”

  “One thing …”

  “Yes?”

  “We escape to China.”

  “Oh.”

  Nine

  The Ascending Dragon rendezvoused with three more Chinese space vessels at Grand China Station. Feng learned they were two destroyers and a supply ship. They got a hundred new dogs from the supply ship, which got them back up to almost 900 dog machines to deploy.

  Feng and Wenbo had often lamented their heavy losses in the battles thus far. It seemed that the universe conspired against them. Feng, however, remained confident, as they had been victorious each time in the end.

  Then the small fleet left, heading into deep space. Feng didn’t know what their new destination was until they were hours underway, when the admiral opened a ship-wide link channel.

  “We have solid intelligence indicating there’s another of these spider machines on another station. It’s been doing the same thing this one was— whatever that is. The citizens are wearing the plastic suits. It has taken over the station. We’re going after this creature and we’re going to kill or capture it. We need to find out where these things are coming from and how to stop them. Earth is depending on us to protect them from this new menace. We won’t let them down.”

  Feng studied the data on the target station. It was called Nibiru, owned by an African company called Talisite Systems. The station wasn’t far, since it also rested in Earth’s L5 zone. Feng had a day to prepare for the incursion.

  First, he set Wenbo to running his simulations on the data they had describing the station. They’d have to be careful not to rely too much on the results, given that the station was likely to differ from its specs considerably. The specs were not too detailed, anyway. Apparently that hadn’t been a priority.

  Then Feng himself wrestled with the battle controller interface. He knew they hunted at least one of the spinners. That was the priority he’d make clear in his set of instructions.

  After a half hour he decided to call in Sheng to help him.

  “We want to act as liberators to this neutral station. Otherwise, we’ll be making a move that could start a space war. We need to spare as many of the inhabitants as we can, but we can’t take it easy with the spinners.”

  Sheng looked over Feng’s settings and made a few modest improvements.

  “The Yongshans aren’t in here,” Sheng said.

  “The battle controller is handling the dogs,” Feng said. “I’m putting pilots on the Yongshans.”

  “What for?”

  “The battle controller had troubles, remember? There are only four Yongshans. I’m going to try and use human pilots to guide them at a high level. Of course, all the targeting and split-second maneuvering is left to the robot itself.”

  Sheng nodded.

&nbs
p; “Speaking of that, I need to know what progress we’ve made with the communications problem we had last time,” Feng said. “I need to have extra plans ready for a communications breakdown. How likely is it?”

  “I think it will happen again,” Sheng said. “The spinners are smart, they know it’s a great way to reduce our effectiveness.”

  “How do they do it?”

  “The electronics warfare team released an analysis that said the spinner used our own on-station cyblocs to create EM interference specifically targeted at the battle controller’s channels,” Sheng said.

  “But cyblocs are very quiet,” Feng said.

  “When operated correctly, yes. But the spinners can use the cyblocs to interfere with the battle controller’s transmissions. So we get good control near the surface of the station facing the Ascending Dragon. The battle controller team plans to expand upon that a bit by putting relay satellites around Nibiru. But once you penetrate deeper into the station, we’ll have the same problem.”

  Feng frowned. “If they learn to mimic the battle controller’s commands, then they could take control of the dogs.”

  “I won’t say that’s impossible,” Sheng said. “But the dogs have sets of authentication codes also known to the battle controller in a preset sequence. It should be difficult to defeat that.”

  Feng didn’t want to underestimate the spinners, but he didn’t feel he had much choice in at least trying to rely on the battle controller again.

  Feng forced himself to sleep, anticipating a long incursion when they arrived at Nibiru.

  This time when the Ascending Dragon approached the target station, Feng’s routine was quite different. He didn’t have to suit up or clamber into the cramped transport module. He would be staying on board, monitoring the situation remotely much as the battle controller’s team did.

  He felt calm as he watched the spatial acrobatics of the assault modules as they moved to their designated breach points and penetrated the skin of the station. It was considerably less tense watching from a distance instead of being on board the jostling metal can of a ship as it attached to a station.

  Despite it being the Ascending Dragon’s first incursion where they had to cut their way in, everything went smoothly at the breaches. The dogs ran out under the control of the battle computer, followed by the human soldiers. One of the two modules held the four Yongshans, which rolled in last, barely fitting through the breach.

  He could see in his PV that the Yongshans were in place. Feng smiled. What he hadn’t told Sheng was that he intended to be one of the Yongshan pilots. They could keep him trapped here on the mothership, but he would still have a bit of the action.

  Feng switched over to his pilot’s channel.

  “Take control now,” he told them. “We’re going into the station. If we lose contact, then the machines will return. Now, we’ve got four major ring corridors that run the entire base on the top level. Each of us will take one. They’re relatively open and should give us a good line of sight. Needless to say, if you spot a spinner then open fire.”

  Feng looked over the internal status of the Yongshan he piloted. Everything looked good. The main cannon magazine had been loaded with light shrapnel rounds, which wouldn’t blow a hole clean through the base, but he hoped that if the rounds exploded near a spinner, it would take it out or at least wound it.

  The Yongshans also had a secondary weapon system, a chain gun. Its rounds were soft and slow, designed for use on a space station. Feng had his doubts about the effectiveness of the chain gun on a spinner, given its toughness, but the chain gun’s rate of fire was so high it might stand a chance. Feng had programmed the Yongshan machines to scatter-fire the secondary weapon, making a hit more likely. This also made it impossible to shoot it with any accuracy, meaning that if there were any bystanders around when the gun was used, there would likely be casualties.

  The Yongshans headed down the major corridors that ran the ring of the station. The concourse was wide open. It looked much different than a Chinese station. It looked like a dense city road, with shops and apartments on either side.

  Feng spotted a few of the locals in the black armor, congregating in a small side yard. They were gesticulating wildly toward the Yongshan.

  He ignored them. They likely wouldn’t have anything that could harm the Yongshan. He realized he should have assigned a dog or two to each of the large machines. Even a stupid dog out of contact with the battle controller would be able to suppress anyone running up to the Yongshan.

  “Send us a couple of dogs each,” Feng ordered on the channel for his officers. “Put them on general defense in the rear of our Yongshans.”

  He trusted his men to comply so the Yongshan continued forward.

  Feng looked at his display. The Yongshans had moved across about a sixth of the station ring, one third of the way to the position of the other battle module and the rest of their dogs.

  “All right, it’s smart enough to elude us. We’ll get our shot yet,” Feng told the other tank pilots. “The dogs will flush the tiger toward us.”

  “Excuse me, sir?”

  “We’ll get the battle controller to send the dogs from the other module. They’ll head around the ring toward us in a massive frontal assault. The spinner will pick off some and steadily retreat in our direction. When it shows up we’ll be sitting here on the main corridors and kill it.”

  “The cyblocs are blocking our signals. If the dogs leave the skin of the station, it may not be able to control them.”

  “Acceptable,” Feng said. “Put them on general frontal assault. I doubt the spinner will want to engage all of them at once. It should run toward us.”

  “With respect, sir, what if the spinner is on the other side of the station?”

  “I like our odds. We can do this again if we have to,” Feng said.

  Although I worry about the damage it can do before that time, he thought. And our organization gets worse with every minute spent on-station. Unless the battle controller can burn through that interference and take control.

  Feng sat and waited. He could see through his PV the dogs had been dispatched toward his position. They encountered pockets of angry locals who fought them briefly, but the dogs simply glued them up and left them for the soldiers to clean up.

  The mass of dogs were closing on the Yongshans from straight ahead. He noted that the small rear escort had taken positions behind the big machines.

  “Here they come. Look sharp,” Feng said. Feng advised his Yongshan that he expected a target to appear in the forward line of sight. The machine kept its cannon trained directly ahead. All its systems were ready to fire.

  “It’s here!” came the signal on the Yongshan pilot’s channel. At the same time, Feng saw the Yongshan on one edge drop off the live list.

  “What happened?” Feng asked.

  How is it possible?

  “I didn’t see it... don’t know exactly what happened,” the pilot said. It was too quick. The weapons are set to fire, but they missed. How can that little thing...?”

  “I don’t know,” Feng said. He imagined the frail-looking spider robot. Somehow it had blown away a heavy war robot in seconds. The Yongshan was essentially a compact tank.

  It took a moment for Feng to find a record of the dead machine’s sensor feed. He found it a few seconds later. The spinner had appeared for less than a second. The audio analysis confirmed the sound of three supersonic shots. The spinner had shot... something at the Yongshan. With devastating effect.

  The machine that had died was on one flank. Feng’s machine was in the corridor farthest away. He cursed in frustration.

  “Well, it’s likely gotten through our trap, then,” Feng transmitted.

  “Trouble!” said the next pilot over. “My machine is firing... but it’s dying,” he said. Feng saw the machine indicate heavy damage on the display. Then it also winked out.

  Two machines dead, right in a line. Feng’s machine was the end in
that line. He studied the display and thought rapidly.

  There’s a single cross corridor thirty meters in front of us. The spinner could be making its way along there. Then it can dart out, deal the damage, and move on.

  “I’m next,” said the pilot in the adjacent corridor.

  “We have to anticipate it,” Feng said. “Send your dog escort forward to that corridor.”

  “Will do,” said the pilot.

  Feng kept watch in the PV. The two dogs that had been sent ahead winked out.

  “Fire now,” Feng said. “Just fire.”

  Feng watched the tactical display. The Yongshan fired blind. Then a moment later, it started to take damage. Feng couldn’t tell how, systems just started to drop off the monitoring system. Then the tank stopped functioning.

  The third Yongshan was destroyed. Feng cursed again. The dogs ahead were almost there but he couldn’t get a visual on them yet due to the curve of the station.

  Feng kept his eyes peeled, even though his machine was set to fire at the first sign of a target signature. He looked at the granular log display on the right side of his PV. It was exactly two minutes between the deaths of the first two Yongshans. Exactly two minutes and two seconds between the deaths of the second and third.

  He had ten seconds left.

  Feng set his two dog escorts on pure offensive mode and let them flank his machine. Then he opened the weapons control window in his PV. He took control of the cannon and set the shell fuse to detonate at thirty meters. Two minutes and one second after the death of the previous Yongshan, Feng fired the shell.

  Smoke and debris flew from the fragmentation shell’s detonation ahead. Suddenly his Yongshan started to report systems failures. He yelled out loud in anger. He saw a wildly spinning machine in the corridor. The Yongshan opened fire with its secondary weapon. He could hear the chain gun eating through ammo. Then there was another explosion, bigger than the first. The Yongshan stopped firing.