Insanity's Children

by Rolf Nelson

  Insanity’s Children

  By Rolf Nelson

  Text and images copyright © 2019 Rolf Nelson

  All rights reserved

  This is the second book (chronologically) in the “The Stars Came Back” series (numbering may vary in physical print)

  Back from the Dead (the first half, in prose format, of the above “Stars Came Back”)

  Other books you may like:

  Heretics of St. Possenti

  Komenagen: Slog

  To all the people who want a good story with interesting ideas, understandable characters, and no left-wing preaching. Oh, yes, and people who are hopeful for the future, because they have their own children, and want to leave them something worth having.

  Contents

  Contents

  Chapter I

  Chapter II

  Chapter III

  Chapter IV

  Chapter V

  Chapter VI

  Chapter VII

  Chapter VIII

  Chapter IX

  Chapter X

  Chapter XI

  Chapter XII

  Chapter XIII

  Chapter XIV

  Chapter XV

  Chapter XVI

  Chapter XVII

  Chapter XVIII

  Chapter XIX

  Chapter XX

  Chapter XXI

  Chapter I

  Cell Break

  “Grenade!” Kaminski snapped. Helton pressed one into the sergeant’s free hand, while Kaminski kept the door covered with his shouldered rifle in one hand. Allonia put one hand on the door handle, the other held her pistol. Kaminski rolled the baseball-sized metal and ceramic weapon in his hand to position it correctly. “Pin.” Helton put his finger into the pin ring and pulled it partially free, then paused. Kaminski drew his hand away to free the pin, eyes steady on the door and listening intently, focused. At the table behind them the judge stared in mute fear and confusion.

  “You might want to plug your ears, sis,” Helton whispered. Kaminski nodded to Allonia. The grenade spoon flew off with a ping and a pop. Allonia whipped the door open for him to toss the grenade through, and the two men took a couple fast shots at the very surprised uniforms stacking up outside the door before Allonia slammed it back shut. A loud BOOM shook the room, dust fell, and Allonia reopened the door. She and Kaminski stepped through and checked to see if any of the guards were moving. Nodding, Kaminski waved the others after him; Sharon’s eyes were wide as she followed the others past the six fallen uniforms.

  Helton strode purposefully down the spaceport corridor with a yellow stripe along the wall, rifle carried at the ready across his chest. The corridor was empty, utilitarian, with many numbered detention-cell doors on each side. His sister walked beside him looking flustered and fluttery, while Kaminski lead with rifle at low ready, and Allonia taking rearguard.

  “Helton, what on earth is going on? Who are these people? Did you have to kill them? What about all the dreadful things they were telling me about you being-”

  “Details can wait,” Helton replied, then made introductions. “Sharon, this is Dorek, also known as Sergeant Kaminski.” The big man waved a free hand casually over his shoulder while keeping eyes forward. “And that’s Allonia, my ex-wife behind-”

  “Your ex-what?!”

  “My ex. Had to marry her to save her life.”

  “’Excuse me?!”

  “Yeah, I was a diplomat at the time and-“

  “You?”

  “Hard to believe, isn’t it?” Allonia chimed in from behind them. “Proposal to matrimony in less than ninety seconds. Quite the whirlwind shotgun wedding.”

  “Shotgun wedding?! You didn’t get her in trouble, did you?”

  “Nope, just loaned her my name. Occasional privateer and starship captain now, too. Long story. Complicated. Anyway, we….” Helton paused in front of a screen and tapped on it. A floor plan diagram of the spaceport showing their area appeared. Several groups of red dots were headed toward their four green dots. “Suggestions, Taj? Here, perhaps?” He tapped a nearby room, a short way down the hall which promptly changed from a blue “locked” code to a yellow “open” color. Kaminski glanced at the screen, then moved out quickly down the hall a dozen paces and shoved open a door marked Authorized Personnel Only.

  Inside the storage closet, partially filled with shelves bearing assorted janitorial supplies, was a makeshift love nest with a folding bed and simple decorations. The young couple on the bed rapidly pulled the covers up over their nakedness, ignoring their uniforms in a heap on the floor, eyes wide. Kaminski held his finger to his lips as the other three crowded in behind him in the close quarters. “Shhhhh.” The sounds of running men and loose equipment came echoing down the corridor. Kaminski held his rifle at the ready, but didn’t point it directly at the two terrified people. All six of them stood or lay, motionless, as the sounds got closer.

  “You’re the… the… you-” the man began as he recognized them.

  With a knowing smile, Allonia whispered softly “We won’t tell if you won’t.”

  Helton stifled a laugh. The police squad in the corridor ran past, and silence returned. Helton reached for the door handle, holding his pistol at high ready, Allonia backing him up. Cracking the door, he peeked out, then opened it and lead them back out of the closet.

  As he was about to pull the door closed behind him, Kaminski faced the couple still frozen in place on the bed. “Sorry for the interruption. Carry on, then.” Closing the door with a grin, he took up rear guard as they continue down the hall. All the screens along the wall lit up with flashing red light and an emergency message.

  Dangerous fugitives on Blue Seven West. All units converge on Blue Seven West.

  “Helton, what’s going on? What sort of dangerous criminal is he? What have you done?” Sharon pleaded.

  “She’s the illegal, actually. He’s just a decorated mercenary. I’m collateral damage more than a criminal. Well, kind of. Except for the fact I blew up a planet. That wasn’t really as bad as it sounds - nobody really owns gas giants. What they really want is my ship.”

  Allonia paused at a corner, held her hand up for silence and to signal everyone to stop moving. The sound of a running person could be heard rapidly approaching. Her face focused intently for a moment, then she holstered her pistol and slung her shield onto her arm, crouched a bit, and got ready with both hands on it. As a man came running around the corner, she lunged up and sideways, knocking him off balance and sending him careening into the opposite wall headfirst. His helmet bounced off the side and back off the follow-through shield smash.

  “Show-off,” Kaminski remarked. She smiled back. “You’re lucky he’s just a little guy.” He kissed her briefly as he walked by to take lead as she glared at him good naturedly.

  “Not lucky. He sounded small. Light, quick movements.”

  “They’ve been like that ever since they got married.” Helton explained, seeing Sharon’s confused look as they move off once again. “Another long story.”

  “Is there anything you can tell me that makes sense that isn’t a long story?”

  “Nope, don’t think so.”

  “His life isn’t really that complicated, Sharon. It just sounds that way.” Allonia said from behind them. “He just wound up in the right place at the wrong time, managed to piss off a lot of powerful people that want him and his ship dead.”

  “But you don’t own a ship, you’re just a teacher! How did you-“

  A screen that they were passing changed from the RED ALERT posting to a view of Tajemnica’s bridge, with Quiritis’ worried face on it. “We have to leave, now. Incoming heavies with nuke orders, can’t stay and fight. Try for pickup at rally-point Sigma. Go
tta bounce. Love you!”

  “Well, isn’t that just as useless as a company of conscripts,” Kaminski snorted.

  “Who’s she?”

  “My wife.” Sharon shifted her gaze from Kaminski to her brother, looking dazed. “Another long story. Lovely ceremony, should have been there. But, what now… OK, she’s got the ship, we have to get out of here before we are beyond easy hacking range for Taj. Crud.”

  “Helton, what’s going ON? Two wives since we last met, for a man that can never find the right woman? And killing guards, and carrying guns?”

  Kaminski rubbed his chin a moment. “Sigma means things are getting ugly fast down here, we gotta get to the islands or off-world on our own. Know any shuttle pilots here ‘bouts?”

  Helton shook his head and asked Allonia, “Think you’re good enough yet to pilot one?”

  Allonia wrinkled her nose, still unsure of her ability. “You know the area better than I do, Helton, so where do you think we should head to lay low? Grabbing a ship here might be kind of tough right now.”

  “Wasn’t exactly a criminal looking to lay low when I lived here guys.”

  “Will somebody please tell me what’s going on?” Sharon demanded.

  The other three ignore her and consider their options.

  “Wearing armor is sure to attract attention, we should ditch it,” Kaminski pointed out.

  “Not ditching the guns, though!”

  “Of course not, dear. They conceal fine, even a cannon like yours,” Kaminski hastened to add, nodding to her elegantly engraved and suppressed 10mm. “We can stash the bulky things somewhere, grab an auto cab. I might know someone.”

  “Who?”

  “A guy I, ah, worked for, a while back. Different kind of biz. Just a few months.” Allonia eyebrows rise a bit in surprise. “Wasn’t always a soldier. But I had a few close calls, figure I should get into something… new. He’s sort of like Cobb; as trustworthy as the money, always looking for another angle.”

  “OK, then. Lead the way!”

  The four trotted down the corridor, guns drawn and alert, Sharon doing her best to keep up.

  Evading Heavies

  The spaceport was a busy place, with many landing pads for shuttles, sub-orbital pleasure craft and space yachts, cargo haulers, support and maintenance ships, and smaller charter passenger ships. Among all the gleaming aerodynamic shapes the angular and slightly scorched figure of Tajemnica, sitting at an odd angle out of alignment with the craft around her, stood out as the hexagonal peg on a round hole. Tanks, turrets, and several missile pods marked her unmistakably as the only military ship at the port, and the rapidly growing line of police vehicles and personnel cautiously drawing a perimeter around her proved that her presence had not gone unnoticed.

  “Police are no problem, of course,” Quiritis said to Quinn as he watched in fascination from his seat on a side console. “They don’t have any heavy weapons. They are here because they don’t know what’s going on, and their higher-ups called them out. They’ll see the turrets and keep back, unless they are total fools.”

  “Can’t we shoot them? You said they were the bad guys.”

  “No need to, and for most of them it’s just a job. It’s not like soldiers who are trying to kill us, and can. Most of them just want to arrest someone and let the lawyers sort it out.”

  The old monk avatar showed up on a screen. “Do not kill the undecided, make him your friend. Only kill those you must. No need do so with these just yet… but if we must, then do with alacrity.”

  “What about android enforcers?”

  “Target practice, as graphically and precisely as possible. Sort of sets the example,” Quiritis replied. “Legally speaking, the government only makes a minor technical distinction. But most people know the difference.”

  “Speaking of, there’s a pair now,” Taj informed them, showing a close-up view on one screen of a pair of general-purpose law enforcement androids rounding a corner headed for the ramp, rifles shouldered, casting long shadows in the setting sun. They both sprout several targeting crosshairs on the screen, covering weapons, power, primary processing units, sensors, and mobilization actuators, different crosshair color and type representing laser, railgun, and HE weapons. They flickered slightly in time with the sounds of firing weapons, and the two metallic figures spontaneously disassembled under the assault of beams, high velocity metal, and explosives. In a moment, the remaining bits were hardly distinguishable from a toaster having a very bad day. The effect on the observing officers watching the two androids getting less than three steps was significant, with ducking, covering, swearing, and urination becoming the order of the day.

  No, the hardware they saw mounted on the ship was most assuredly was not just for intimidation purposes.

  Kwon poked a few screens, looked at the results and shook his head. “Can’t figure out what they are trying to do in there. Taking too long.”

  “Interrogation rooms have vid and audio, haven’t gotten into all the systems, yet. Different than the normal hall security cams,” Taj informed them. “They also have local manual cut-off switches in case they want privacy. Working on it.”

  “Better hurry. Got some stacking up just outside the door,” Kwon warned.

  Quiritis’ hands flew over the controls, her brow furrowing in concern. “That’s not right… What do we have there?” More data flows across the screen.

  “What is it, Aunt Quiri?” asked Quinn.

  “How long to get back to the ship, once they leave?” she asked sharply, ignoring Quinn for the moment.

  “Assuming no delays, estimate six minutes…. Ah, I see the problem.” The monk avatar morphs into a partially armored woman, her one green eye flashing beside the Possenti cross eye patch. “That might be difficult.” She drew her sword, did a practice cut and slash on the screen, then sheathed it smoothly. “A close run thing it will be.”

  Kwon looked at the other two, concerned. “What’s headed this way?”

  “Two frigates inbound, sleeks, one high from the east, one low, fast, flying blacked out from the southwest. Estimated launch range innnn… one.”

  “Bounce now, or wait and see?” Quiritis asked Taj’s avatar, who mulls it over a moment. “Don’t worry Quinn, we’ll figure it out. We have plans in case something comes up. If we have to leave, we’ll pick them up somewhere else.”

  “They are breaking com silence. Sneaky. It should be more directional, but they are tuned for the wrong sort of atmo, getting usable refraction from their transonic bow wake.”

  The bridge speakers carry the overheard conversation. “Please say again, Fresnel One.”

  “We have been cleared for nuclear launch. I say again, we ARE cleared for nuclear launch if deemed necessary to take down the target. Load and make ready any and all systems, deployed at your discretion. Target is priority Romeo-India-Alpha.”

  The speakers cut out, Quiritis punched up maps and diagrams and data for a few moments. Kwon interrupted her motions. “They are out! Hall cams show… guards are down, they are headed out. They have a woman with them I don’t recognize.”

  “Not good, not good,” Quiritis muttered. “Launch here, go there… five minutes if perfect….”

  “I concur,” the female avatar said, crossing arms and wearing a frown. “Can’t take out the frigates without likely killing tens of thousands, may not be able to at all, this close. They are slowing. Likely prepping to launch fighters.”

  “Buttoning up, prepping to lift.” Quiritis said crisply as she tapped her headset-mounted mic and announces to the ship while her hands danced across the control panel getting ready. “All hands! Inbound warships, might be a rough ride. Lifting in thirty five seconds. Secure loose items and buckle up.” She tapped a few icons. “Put me on a screen near them, Taj…. We have to leave, now. Incoming heavies with nuke orders, can’t stay and fight. Try for pickup at rally-point Sigma. Gotta bounce. Love you!” The screen went black.

  Kwon shook his head in d
ismay. “Use the BFR?”

  “Only good for very close range in an atmosphere, velocity is so high it melts the projectile.” The sounds around the bridge surge, vibrate, and pulse, then the view out the view ports changes and shifts rapidly as Tajemnica lifts and accelerates at right angles to the two incoming frigates, clawing for altitude. On tactical screens more icons showed up as fighters and interceptors are launched. “Too many, too many….” Quiritis muttered as she rapidly examined and discarded options.

  Taj’s avatar on the screen morphed to the pirate-like swashbuckling privateer. “I hate t’be th’ bearer ‘o bad news, me’lass, but me thinks we got another far ahead, high n’ driftin’ quiet-like. Nothin’ ahead but planet, sky, and enemies! Makes findin’ targets easy, but it’s a right tight barrel o’ pickles, it is.” Behind them, a slowly expanding wall of interceptors spread out like a net.

  “Can we just saturate the cruiser’s defenses?” Kwon asked, out of his element.

  “Frigates, not cruisers. More fighters and interceptors, and we expended too much ammunition getting here.”

  “Straight up?”

  “No place to hide or maneuver, pure speed race, but if they have something above us, we charge into a barrage of nukes.”

  “Indeedy they do, seems, lass. Another frigate almost right above the mainmast, getting’ warm she is, falling from orbit like that.”

  “Damn! Four. See if we can draw them down into a close chase on the deck, then.” She pushed the yoke forward, and the scene outside the portals changed again to show the ground as she dived toward the thicker air of lower altitude and raced towards the rugged mountains to the north.

  Captain Nomon of the frigate Montserrat sat buckled into his command chair, suited up like everyone else on the bridge. He floated lightly in the near free-fall of a slowly descending near-orbital ballistic path that would drop him in, with high velocity and useful altitude, right over the target area and moving in line with the expected escape path. He’d heard some wild stories, and wanted to take no chances that some of them might have a kernel of truth. Neither did the other two cruiser and four frigate captains he’d worked out the plan with. For once, intel from higher up was right. A pair of cruisers were far ahead, in line so they’d hide one behind the other from the expected location of the target. Getting confirmation that nukes were authorized was welcome, as it indicated higher-ups were serious, and closing with such an adversary might be messy. On the other hand, it might mean they were paranoid; it was just one small ship. Either way, soon it would be over.