•You mean, he doesn't want to believe the real Kilalt Isn't the same as the Ideal one In his head?"
"Exactly."
"Maybe," Coeur said. "Think you con use that as a weapon?"
"Ah...no."
"Me neither, jo we 'IT go ahead with my plan."
'You've found the communicator?"
"Roger—it's under the floor plates we're ripping up around the jump drive."
"Howcan ihelp?"Physic asked.
"Distract Crayiord somehow. 111 need at least five minutes alone here."
"Distract him? How?"
"Whatever works, doctor. I'm sure you'll think of something."
What Physic came up with was a painful 'sprain' of her left ankle, a sprain that threatened to develop Into a genuine broken leg as she somersaulted dramatically down the aft boarding ramp In front of Graylord and the nightjacks.
"Doctor, are you all right?"
"Damnl" Physic said, rolling around on the floor of the berth, grasping her leg, "I don't think sol"
"Please lie still, doctor. I have basic medical training."
"You—unh—do?"
"Yes. Although doubtless inferior to your own, it tells me you should be still, lest you aggravate your Injury,"
"Right"
"Now tell me where It hurts....*
Astounding iy, the full examination look 10 minutes—far more time than Coeur needed, and Indeed Coeur came trotting down the aft ramp scarcely concealing a look of smug satisfaction.
"Oh my goodness," Coeur said, catching sight of the bandage Graylord was wrapping around Physic's left ankle, "whatever happened to you. Physic?"
Unaware that Physic actually had managed to hurt herself, Coeur gave this question a light enough lone to Invite a glowering stare from the doctor, whp had gone above and beyond the call of duty In canying out her orders.
The doctor appears to have twisted her ankle on the foot of the cargo ramp," Graylord said, "but I believe the Injury Is minor, and will heal In two or three days,"
'Two or three days?" Coeur asked.
"Yes," Craylord said, "which means that the doctor will have to stay oft her feet for that time."
"Pity," the slight doctor said, with a strangely happy expression. "I guess I won't be able to help you manhandle those jump governor housings into place."
"Yeah," Coeur mumbled, "funny how that works out."
The doctor's mishap was hardly anything to smile about, though. One way or another, Craylord would soonfind out about the message she'd just sent, and then Physic would very much wish she had two good legs to run with.
* * *
Forty kilometers to die northwest. Boomer stepped out of die pa'ked ship's boat that was his responsibility and ran over to Tom with the report he had just received on his vehicle's meson receiver.
The place where all of the spacers eventually congregated, was, in fact, alongside Ceneraf Lemos' rebels, in the profoundly rubbled remains of western Senega District After dropping off Brother Anthony In the outskirts of the Federal District, Tom and the C-canier crew came to join their mates in what once was a forest of concrete buildings, a region now offering especially rich opportunities for camouflage and concealment. Soon, almost all the spacer vehicles—the Intrepid, the C-carrier and the ship's boat, everything except Vi Et Armis and Hornet—were clustered together in the underground parking garage of a collapsed skyscraper, so Boomer did not have far to go to find Tom conferring with Drop Kick and Mercy.
"Begging your pardon, sir," Boomer said, saluting his skipper and handing over a computer notepad, "but we just received this over the meson set."
"Good Gaia," Tom gasped, turning the notepad so Drop Kick and Mercy could see it Take a look at that"
In Coeur's typically laconic style, the message read:
ATTENTION VZ/DK
MESON GUN SENSORS
15.43 deg W, 9.81 deg NRS
"It sounds like Red Sun," Drop Kick said. "Short and to the point. But what does she mean? Could all the meson guns on the planet have one sensor cluster?"
"Probably," Mercy said. "Or she wouldn't have sent the message,"
"Huh," Drop Kick said, thoughtfully. "This really changes everything. Up until now we've known practically nothing about what's Inside Angel's Haven, except thatRedandPhysic were lost there, and that it has a big radio transmitter. But if this report is accurate. Angel's Haven could very well be the depot—the one we came here to destroy." <
"I don't follow you," Boomer said.
"I do," Tom said. "Those coordinates Red sent are almost directly on top of that Gutter of Blood She went into."
"Right," Mercy said, finding the location on the map In her personal computer and expanding the image. "Those coordinates are on top of ML Altus, which must be the tallest mountain in the whole range.*
"Which," Drop Kick said, "strongly suggests that the depot is down underneath that mountain. There's probably no location that would be better guarded against aerial bombardment.
"Yeah, this changes things all right. If Red went to that much trouble to send us a specific clue, it must mean she wants us to do something about it. I think that means we have to mount an assault on Angel's Haven— take out the meson gun sensors first, then shoot our way into the Cutter of Blood to rescue her and the others"
"Well," Tom said, "before we go that far, ihere Is another possibility. Red could have sent the message from my ship."
"VIElArmisV Mercy asked. "Coon."
"Tom had asecret meson transmitter on the Armis, "Drop Kick said, "one she showed Red and me while we were on the ship."
'That's right," Tom agreed. "And it would have been a lot easier for Red to send the message from there, since that transmitter was already set up to communicate with our ship's boaL"
"But why would Captain D' Esprit be on the Armis?" Boomer asked. "Surely, whoever captured her wouldn't return her to the heart of Soledad."
"Hm," Drop Kick said. "We could try to call Armis back, with your ship's boat set If It weren't just a receiver."
"Sorry," Tom said.
"Well, damn."
"Hey, I never Intended it to be a primary communications system. It's just a lasl-ditch system, for sending short-range emergency messages."
"So what do we do, boss?" Mercy asked.
"Well," Drop Kick said, "I'm going to take a chance that Red Sun gave us those coordinates for a reason—because she wanted those meson guns silenced. But I want you to check out the Armis angle, too, Tom."
"Right," Tom said, clearly happy for an excuse to return to her ship. "I'll take the G-carrier, and as many Marines as you can Spare."
"You can take ail of them," Drop Kick said, "but don't launch until an hour from now."
"Why?"
"Because I don't want either of us to Up off the depot, or Kilalt, or whoever's holding Red and the other prisoners, that we're up to anything. That's why we need to coordinate our missions to lake place simultaneously."
"I see,"
"At any rate, neither mission will be easy, You'll need to penetrate downtown Soledad at dusk, and we'll need to lie low under the cover of the foothills so the meson gun sensors don't spot us before we're in range to fire."
Usually quick with a comeback, Tom decided not 10 joke about trading places. Heavy meson guns—like the ones almost certainly buried inside Mexii—were designed to engage marauding capital warships, ships many hundreds of times larger than Vi El Armis or Hornet. Engaging a 10-ton tank was child's play In comparison.
"Well, you'd belter get going, then," Tom said.
"Yeah," Drop Kick agreed, less than enthusiastically, "I'd pray for you," Tom offered, "but I don't know that God listens much to pirates and criminals in general."
"Hm," Mercy mused, starting to climb up toward her driver's hatch. "I wonder if Kilalt knows that?"
m * *
Getting Physic settled comfortably into her caoin to ok the better part of half an hour, but Coeur knew that soon enough she and Graylord wou
ld gel back to work In Viet Armis'engine room, and inevitably the perceptive android woulddlscover the half-ton meson transmitter beneath the deck plates they were working around, Coeur visualized how it might go.
* This Is Interesting, D' Esprit. A meson communicator hidden In the keel of the ship."
"Yeah, how about that, Graylord "
"It does occur to me, 0 Esprit, that you had the opportunity to use this communicator earlier, while the doctor was injured."
"Ah, but who would I call? People don't just carry meson communicators around in their pockets."
"Perhaps. But I have been watching you, D' Esprit. You've been more enthusiastic to work In this port a I the ship than you should be.
There for, I think I shall have no choice but to return you and the. doctor to the depot and have mind control Implants installed. You understand, of course, it's for your own good."
Or someother such equally horrible variation. Having heard of the prevalence of paranoia among Viral computers, CoeurwOuldn't be at at! surprised if Craylord simply had Coeur and Physic killed as a precaution.
No, Coeur thought, if it comes la that, I'll make sure Physic doesn't take any of the blame. I sent the message, so it's my responsibility.
Given all this contemplation of Graylord's probable actions, Coeur was surprised by what actually did happen. Ninety minutes after Physic's accident, as dusk began to fall on Soledad, Graylord came across the meson communicator, in the keel of the ship under the jump drive, and was simply mystified by It 'This is curious," Graylord said, squeezing his large frame into the small crawl space where Coeur herself had lain, mere hours before, to manipulate the secret communicator. "It appears to be a short-range meson communicator, disconnected from the main computer."
"Well," Coeur said, "I'll be damned."
"It does appear to be functional," Graylord announced, "but I don't know how useful a device it would be. With a range of 300-kilometers, it would hardly be practical for long-range communications In space."
"Well, it's there," Coeur said, attempting to sound nonchalant, "so Tom must have used it for something."
"Pernapsifs just junk," Craylord decided eventually, ripping loose the power cables to the communicator, but leaving it otherwise intact 'The engineer of this vessel did seem to have a proclivity for incorporating random pieces of equipment Into the ship without consideration for their efficiency or practicality."
"Is that your only criteria for a good design, Graylord? Efficiency and practicality?"
"Certainly, you would agree that those are important considerations in a starship."
"What about creativity and spontaneity? Do you appreciate those, or are you Still an unfeering machine, like when you were built?"
"I am surprised at you. Captain. A pel ly attempt to provoke an emotional response."
"Well, the question still stands. Were you created with emotions?"
"I do not remember the process of my manufacture. Captain, if that's what you mean. I only know that I was imbued with intelligence by the holy Defender, that I might..."
"That you might what?"
"Serve the noble purpose of my master, St. Kilalt."
"Your noble master, who terrorizes Soledad and bums Innocent people In the street?"
In response to this, Craylord fixed Coeur with his unblinking gaze.
"You are trying to provoke me, Captain. Why?"
"Because you have a mind, Graylord, and presumably a conscience. I can't Imagine any other reason why you saved me from Yunque at the depot."
"You are a useful asset. What other reason could there be?"
"I think you know something you're not telling anyone, Craylord. I think you control the nightjacks yourself, and the whole depot and you could stop Kilalt's reign of terror like that— " Coeur snapped her right thumb and forefinger, "—if you wanted."
having begun down thlsdangerously provocative path, Coeur wasn't at all certain where it would lead, but she was completely unprepared for what Graylord did next. Affecting a human gesture, he turned away from Coeur In thought, and faced a corner of the engine room for a long moment.
"If only I could," he said softly.
"What?"
"You are wrong, Captain," Graylord said, turning back around. "I do not control the depot, nor all of the nightjacks—just those closest to me. A greater Intelligence controls all of us and the depot"
"You mean God?"
"No, notGod.Asynthetlc intelligence, like myself, but greater."
Oh my Cod, Coeur thought.
'The depot computer," she guessed-
"Yes," Craylord said. That's it It is only recently...only since St. Kilalt was resurrected...that I have begun to understand that. I am only a subordinate machine, programmed as a messenger and ambassador of a higher Intelligence."
"But" Coeur said, suddenly empathetlc with the android, but also strangely afraid, "but you aren't a slave. You have free will. You con resist"
Whether he could resist or not became mool a moment later. Beginning to answer that comment Graylord froze suddenly— as if riven by a powerful shock—and fell off-balance to the deck, bouncing heavily off a fuel pump and landing heavllyon thefloor, as rigid as a department store mannequin.
Oh, fikkl Coeur thought, anxiously, Coeur, what did you do?
A due to what the did came a moment fa lee, when one of the nightjacks—stooping to fit inside Vi it Armis—appeared at the rear of the engine room, sprouting holographic flames from its vaguely demonic form, Coeur didn't even think about staying where she was. Instead, she leapt in a single jump for the foiward engine mom hatch and siammed shut the manual hatch behino her.
"Physlcl" Coeur yelled, running forward toward the stateroom where she'd left her friend, "Physic, damn it, get upl"
"What Is it?" Physic yelled back, from behind her stateroom door.
"Damn it, your door's kxked! Hold on, I'll find something to open the door with!"
That effort would come up short, however, lot mere seconds later the entire engine room hatch—secured with heavy titanium alloy bolts—came off Its hinges, ripped free by the pursuing nightjack.
"Uhoh," Coeur said, lempoiarllyglvinguptheattempttofree Physic so she could retreat toward the bridge. An intervening bulkhead hatch was locked, howevet, and Coeur could not pass, Coddamn, Coeur thought, turning around and beholding the nightjack just meters away, bow close does he need to be to kill me?
"You might not want to get any closer," Coeur warned the closing giant. "At this range, fusion splashback can be pretty nasty, even io a robot."
"fear not," the nightjack said, stopping just two meters away, "you will not be killed unless you resist."
"So, it's going to be the neural rifle, huh?" Coeur asked, standing up to the machine and resisting her powerful Inner urge to beg for mercy. "All right. Get on with it."
Tne nightjack didn't quite get the chance to fire, however. Even as Coeur closed her eyes, anticipating the numbing shock of the neural rifle scrambling her brain waves, a howl like 100 thunderclaps filled the corridor, and the nightjack fell a flaming ruin to the deck.
"Okay, Red," a familiar voice said, "you can open your eyes now."
"Tom?" Coeur asked, squinting open her eyes, "in the flesh," Tom confirmed, advancing down the corridor between the armored forms of Red Eye and Widget, whose smoking fusion guns had presumably done In the hapless slayer of their First Sergeant Caffer—a fact they did not yet know.
"Look after Physic," Coeur gasped, letting herself slump exhaustedly to the deck. "She's In Stateroom 3,"
"Roger," the Marines said, peeling off from Tom to force the doctor's door with their enhanced strength. Tom meanwhile, continued on to Coeur and offered a hand to help her up.
"Is Caffer here?" Tom asked, helping Coeur Pack to her feet.
"No, he didn't make it."
"Oh hell."
"Yean, He died fighting, though."
"I'd have guessed that," Tom said, "But anyway, I think we'd better g
o quick before more of those nightjacks show up. We toasted another one outside, but there's more In the area."
"Understood," Coeursaid, gMng the puzzled Physic her arm for support when the physician was released from her stateroom, "Hey, Tom," Physic said, "you come to our rescue?"
"Sure did," Tom replied, leading the way forward behind the Marines, "Let me guess," Coeur ventured, "You traced the meson communicator?"
"Affirmative, I nearly forgot that I had that communicator, though—It's been a while since I wasdesperate enough to use IT"
"Caia, Tom," Coeur said, "you'll be the death of me yet."
"No, I already tried that," Tom said, leading them back toward the engine room, "when I dropped those atom bombs on you at Ra."
"Yeah," Coeur managed to quip, "and I thought I was in trouble then. You all right. Physic?"
"Hanging In there," the doctor said, limping along as best she could. At the engine room bulkhead, however, she needed Tom and Coeur's help to step through, and this gave Coeur an unexpected moment to fix her gaze on the strange, sad form of Graylord, lying rigidly In a corner of the engine room like an overturned statue.
Or, perhaps more accurately, like a discarded tool. < , ■
Since Virus had essentially destroyed all of civilization at the end of the Final War, when it was released as the ultimate Black War weapon, citizens of the blasted Wilds could not be faulted for a less than clinical detachment when regarding their ancient foe. Virus had mutated from early Suicidal strains into a profusion of more stable forms—Empire Builders that networked vast fleets of Infected ships together, God strains that ruled their human subjects through fear, Mother strains that assisted their human dependents with compassion, and even Hobbyists, whose minds fixated on self-absorbing obsessions. That, nonetheless, was Incidental to the overwhelming belief about Virus—that It was evil and must be extinguished.
Consistent with this belief, Tom's first consideration after rescuing Coeur and Tom was getting the bodies of Graylord and Yunque out of her ship and onto the floor of the berth, wnerc the Marines could bum them down safely.
"Wait," Coeur said, after her Marines had dragged the bodies outside, "we don't have time for that. We've got to get going, remember?"
TNE 02 To Dream of Chaos Page 33