Deadly Dream

by Gray Lanter

  “That’s fine. This is not the kill shot. That comes later,” I said.

  “Yes, sir. Bombs are away.”

  Two red streaks zoomed from the Patton toward the silver ship. The alien vessel basically shrugged. No evasive action.

  The Federation told us the alien jets were probably manned by robots or Artificial Intelligence bots. AIs are not, as some believe, flawless in action and planning. Just as humans can make mistakes, AIs can make mistakes too. They can be as flawed as anyone else, but in different ways. I thought it was a big mistake not to take evasive action. Unless they had already scanned and calculated the power of our atomic volleys and figured they wouldn’t do much damage. But you still evade. You don’t allow a ship to take any shots that could have been avoided. Nevertheless, the silver swan kept on a straight course toward the Patton, ignoring any evasive action.

  “Keep us moving back, Ms. Alesong. They’ll probably think we’re retreating. Let them continue to think that.”

  An area of space exploded in red flames when the bombs hit the alien ship’s shields. For a moment crimson covered the vessel, then the colors dissipated in space. The vessel shook slightly , wavering left and right, then like a silver hound dog, yelped after us. Two blue lights zinged our way.

  “What type of weapon are they using, Tek?”

  “Some type of particle beam, sir. Nothing I’m familiar with.”

  “Anything to worry about?”

  “No, sir. We can take that and a lot more.”

  “Taking evasive action, sir.”

  “Thank you, Ms. Alesong.”

  As the Patton swerved, the two blue beams flew by on the left.

  “Send them another bomb, Mr. Murdock. Give them something to think about,” I said.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “That was stupid not to evade. It’s preferred military procedure to avoid weapons aimed at you.”

  “Maybe it’s a new tactic, sir.”

  I laughed. “Often new is not better. Listen up, Ms. Alesong.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Start scanning and scan continuously. Aim the ship toward the tail of the sphere. When you get there, I want you to move like a sniper searching for the best position to fire. Move back and forth, getting into position.”

  “Heading that way, sir.”

  “Mr. Murdock, keep peppering the aliens with our weapons. Keep them on their toes.”

  “They’re firing again, sir.”

  “Same weapon?”

  “Yes.”

  “They must be optimistic. If the first blast missed, what makes them think a second one will hit their target?”

  “Hope springs eternal. So maybe they hope we will stand still,” Geneva said.

  “Hate to disappoint them, but we’re going to keep moving.”

  The blue beam weapons came our way but missed us by a considerable number of miles. I couldn’t figure out what the opposing captain was doing. But I didn’t have to, because in a few minutes the question would be moot.

  I looked at the second screen. The Greene was trading fire with the second silver ship. They jockeyed back and forth for position. There’s no sound in space but fiery yellow lights shot from the Greene. The second swan shot back. No blue particle beams from it. A quivering orange dart came from the silver swan. It exploded and sent black flakes across the ship but did no damage.

  “I am maneuvering, major, per your orders. But may I ask why?”

  “Certainly. I hope our enemy thinks we are maneuvering for a clear shot at the sphere and given our evasions, I hope he will believe we’ve found one before we fire. The AIs on the alien ships don’t have to worry about their crew. That’s one plus for being an AI. I have to make one guess in this battle, which is that the only mission of the enemy ships is to protect the sphere. They must, at all costs, protect the sphere. So we are going to fire the equator bombs. Thanks to Mr. Jones’ modifications, the AIs won’t be able to scan the bombs to determine how powerful they are. Which puts our artificial opponents in a dilemma. They must protect the sphere but they can’t stop the weapon. They have to realize there is a chance the mysterious weapon we’re launching could destroy or at least damage the sphere. So what do they do?”

  Geneva thought for a moment then nodded. “Since the Artificial captain doesn’t care about himself or his crew, he directs his ship into the path of the equator bombs. That’s his only option.”

  “I hope so. How’s the maneuvering coming?”

  She smiled. “Give me a minute and I will be in position. That opposing captain must be wondering what we are doing.”

  “In a minute we’ll show him. I’m guessing the second ship will also join his friend. Both of them have the same prime directive.”

  “Ship firing again, sir. Different weapon this time. Can’t tell what it is,” Tek said.

  “Almost ready, sir,” Geneva said.

  “Mr. Murdock, as soon as Ms. Alesong gives the word, fire the bombs.”

  The weapon from the enemy appeared to be a black pellet. It didn’t look all that devastating, but looks can be deceiving. I braced myself for impact when the pellet exploded about two miles away from the ship. A right of red fire spurted from it. The red surrounded the ship. A ring of fire circling the Patton.

  “That’s odd,” I said. “Haven’t seen that before.”

  “We’re in position. You can fire.”

  The two equator bombs shot out from the ship and headed directly at the sphere. A second pellet exploded and suddenly we had two red rings around the Patton.

  “Tek, is that really fire?”

  “No, something similar. Very similar. This fire can burn in space where there’s no oxygen.”

  Out of the corner of my eye I saw the silver swan head for the sphere. But not before sending a third pellet our way. It planned to intercept the bombs. The second swan, now looking worse for flying, broke away from the Greene and headed toward the sphere too.

  “Evasive action,” I said.

  “I am, sir. Whatever that fire is, it’s staying with us.”

  The third pellet exploded and a third fiery ring surrounded the ship.

  “Outside temperature is going up rapidly, sir. It’s now at five hundred degrees,” Tek said.

  “Six hundred degrees, major.”

  The two silver swans met at the sphere, then turned and sped toward the equator bombs. I hoped the power of the bombs would be enough to blow them out of the sky.

  The fiery web spit out another yellow threat. It flew over the Patton and connected with a second red-orange line.

  “Seven hundred degrees, sir.”

  “We still have a little time. Tek, can’t the ship stand up to 5,000 degrees?”

  “Yes, but I don’t have full confidence it would withstand 4,999 degrees. Let’s don’t cut it too close.”

  On the screen the equator bombs crashed into the two silver jets. Bits and pieces of the jets spiraled into space. When the smoke disappeared, there was no trace of the swans. The sphere, ignoring the chaos around it, flowed slowly toward its next destination.

  “The sixth planet in the system. Head for it, Ms. Alesong, as fast as possible.”

  “The sixth planet?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Usually in our ships the crew isn’t even aware that the ship is moving. Akin to residents of Earth who are not aware the planet is spinning its way around the sun. But I felt the ship swerve and roar ahead when Geneva steered it toward the solar system’s planets.

  “The sixth is an ice planet, sir. Not inhabitable.”

  “Fine with me. I don’t plan on living there. It is also a planet racked continuously with ice storms. What is surrounding us is not a fire, per se. But it has some properties of the type of fire we’re used to. So let’s hope ice can put it out.”

  “A thousand degrees, sir, and increasing rapidly.”

  “Don’t stop at any tourist spot, Ms. Alesong. Full speed ahead.”

  The temperature
on the outside hull topped 2,500 degrees when we broke the atmosphere of the planet. Dark and ugly, with gray, heavy clouds. Winds more than two hundred miles per hour. But it looked good to me. As we dropped closer to the surface, huge ice packs hit the ship and exploded. The temperature on the planet was four hundred below. The red lines flickered, as if weakening. About fifty lines now criss-crossed the Patton, like a spider web with an bug caught in the center. The lines flared brightly and cast off orange and yellow flames into the blackness of space. The ice flew fast and furious. A huge two-mile-wide aerial iceberg splattered against the red lines. It exploded and the fires dimmed a bit, then flared back but not as strong as before.

  “Captain, it’s working. The outside temperature had spiked to 2,700 degrees, but it’s now receding. Slowly but receding.”

  The Patton rocked as the ice pummeled it. The bright fire dimmed more. The red in the lines changed to a burgundy. I guessed that was a good sign; when the color turned darker I thought it was even a better sign.

  “Below 1,550 degrees and dropping, major,” Tek said.

  “Bring us up a bit, Ms. Alesong. I don’t want to stay here. Just want to visit for a few minutes. Tek, tell me if the temperature goes up again or keeps heading down.”

  “Right now it’s still going down, major.”

  “Good. We have any other problem or is everything all clear?”

  “A few minor things, but nothing serious, sir.”

  “I like hearing that.”

  Geneva edged the ship up. When we broke through the atmosphere, the outer rim was hot enough to fry an egg on, but not much more. Gotta love those engineers and builders. They take pride in excellence and we have owed our lives to them on more than one occasion.

  “Breaking free of the planet’s gravity, sir.”

  “Head back to the sphere but at cruising speed, Ms. Alesong. It will give us time to double-check everything on the ship.” I flicked my communicator. “In thirty minutes, I’d like to see all department heads in my office with your reports.”

  Geneva turned the ship and started back toward the sphere.

  “Tek, one question. Could something like that spider web of fire had been the weapon that killed everything on the three planets? Surround a planet with fire, close the circle and incinerate everything? Nothing is left.”

  “Possibly. But even with that devastating a fire I think more remains and debris would have been left. We don’t know how long it’s been since the attack. The question needs more study and evidence before we come to a conclusion.”

  “Just wondering.”

  The Greene came into view and hailed us. I took it and said hello.

  “You had me worried, Logan. Although I thought you might be taking off for the sixth planet. Glad it worked out,” said Captain Markey.

  “So am I. I thought the sixth planet was just a cold, dead hunk of rock. Turned out it was very useful. But I hope there won’t be a need for a return visit.”

  Markey came on the screen. His face is as craggy as the Rocky Mountains and his eyes as blue as Arctic ice. Off duty, he’s a very amiable guy, but you’d never know it when he’s in uniform.

  “I have good news for you, Logan. We had a chance to do some scanning on the object before the attack. The sphere isn’t invisible to our scans this close up. My people believe there is an entrance located near the front of the sphere. We can use the cosmic tunnel to get over. We have to do a bit of fancy scientific footwork to press the right buttons. But when you do, a portal slides open and we can walk in.”

  “That is good news. We just have to make sure it isn’t a trap.”

  “The scientists tell me too that there are five chambers. Vast. Have no idea what’s in them. And it appears, although my people are not definitive on this, that the last chamber may be what we’d call the bridge, the command center. But to get there we have to go through the first four chambers.”

  “Gosh, I wonder if we’ll see any welcoming committee.”

  “Let’s don’t plan on that. Our experience tells us that the aliens who built the thing and are protecting it are not very friendly.”

  “How true,” I said.

  Chapter 8

  At the conference table, I looked at the officers. Most of them were smiling. So was I. Our first battle with the sphere had gone our way. If we kept that streak going...

  “Ladies, gentlemen, do we know any more about the sphere now than we did when we started this mission?”

  “Only a few more facts, major, but some important facts,” Tek said. “The sphere itself remains as mysterious as ever. It’s like a lumbering giant. It just rolls along, nothing seems to bother it. At its current velocity it would enter the nearest habitable solar system in about two years.”

  “Which gives us a little time,” I said.

  “Yes and no. It could speed up. We shouldn’t assume it will keep this velocity forever. But we do see an entrance to the sphere. A small portal, which looks roughly like a door, that we can open. We use a tunnel of air to get over, then close it again. We easily match the speed of the sphere so we shouldn’t have any problem, at least in traveling over there. What we find when we get there is another matter.”

  I nodded. Tek could have gone into a lengthy, say twenty minutes or so, explanation of the ‘tunnel of air’, which is obviously a layman’s explanation. We fly alongside the sphere, at precisely the same speed, and extend our tunnel. It’s not really of air. The material is almost as solid as the sphere’s exterior. But it works. That’s all that matters.

  “We are guiding alongside the sphere now,” Geneva said. “Give the word and we can attach the tunnel.”

  “Any sign of any type of defense?”

  “No. It’s like ‘Old Man River’: it just keeps rolling along.”

  A few other officers gave her questionable gazes. She shrugged. “I grow up on the Mississippi. In Missouri. Old Man River just keeps flowing along. Never heard that song?”

  “Yes, tired of living, scared of dying,” said Weapons Officer Murdock. “Good song. I sang it at a high school musical.”

  “You can give us a rendition later,” I said. “You detect no type of weapons on the thing?”

  “No. Whatever it used to destroy the planets is not showing up. I’m guessing the builders of the ‘thing’ didn’t think about any space combat. They figured no one would be foolish enough to approach it.”

  “Guess that says something about us.”

  “Not the first time we’ve been foolish,” Rab said.

  I grinned. “Tek, you said there are five chambers inside?”

  “Yes, but that comes with a coda. This close to the thing our scanners do work, but there is interference, which I can’t pin down. The scanners are working, but not at a hundred percent. Readings could be off. And we can’t tell what, if anything, is in the chambers. The final one may be the control headquarters. When we get there we may be able to commandeer the sphere.”

  “Good, then that’s our goal. But I don’t understand one thing. If this is a weapon of war, which it clearly is, why build chambers into it that doesn’t enhance its capabilities as a weapon? They’re totally extraneous and, for that matter, useless,” I said.

  “The builders might not have your relentless, logical mind, major,” Geneva said.

  “Or your astonishing sharp wit,” Rab said.

  I laughed. “We’ll soon find out. Rab, get the squad ready. We go in full battle gear; take every weapon we can. If we don’t know what those chambers hold, I want to be prepared for anything.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “If all goes well, in thirty minutes we cross over.”

  Chapter 9

  The tunnel of air has a golden hue to it. It sparkles and gives off flashes of yellow against the darkness of space. Like most technological wonders, it takes a while to complete its task. The brown sphere eased through space. The oval curve of gold slowly edged out from the Patton. It sliced through the blackness but, like the sphe
re, was in no hurry. The gold doorway moved at its own speed, as if testing the space around it. Halfway to the sphere it paused. Instead of gold flashes, three red sparks flew into the darkness. Directed by a computer on the Patton, the doorway waited. On rare occasions, it has retreated and returned to a ship. I didn’t want it retreating now, but it was impervious to my orders. After eight agonizing minutes it inched forward then gradually picked up speed. The Patton stayed about a mile from the sphere. Whatever was piloting the sphere could not be Artificial Intelligence. If so, all it had to do was veer away and our gateway was lost. But the sphere didn’t. It plodded toward its destination, ignoring the tunnel. If the sphere had weapons, it could also send one through the doorway that had been established. I was well aware that the Raiders and the Patton were vulnerable when we tried to establish a tunnel of air to another ship. The corridors of the Patton were sealed off. If a weapon blasted us, hopefully any damage would be contained to this part of the ship. We might be killed, but the rest of the ship should be safe. Space, aliens, or odd-looking spheres have a thousand and one ways of killing you in space. You have to be aware of all of them. Or you die young. There is also, I’ve always thought, an element of what might be called luck. Some soldiers have been at the wrong place at the wrong time. They didn’t make a mistake. They followed all the correct procedures. But a laser or bullet caught them. I’ve been amazingly fortunate in combat. I’ve always seemed to be in the right place at the right time instead of the wrong lethal place at the wrong time. I appreciate that, but you never know when that good fortune will run out. The universe likes to keep things in balance.

  I looked out again. The tunnel had stalled for a second time. It was three-quarters of the way to the sphere, but it wasn’t moving. I looked back toward my squad.

  Astrid, blond hair under her helmet, stood smiling. She winked at me. I nodded back. Rab grinned as he stood holding his laser rifle. He looked ready. But Rab always looked ready. He will say that there is no such thing as luck or good fortune. There is only training, courage and preparation.