Now he had to take care of the business in hand if he wanted both of them out of here. The hanger deck was his, his rearmost squads having taken it at the cost of four robots, leaving eight to secure the hanger and the three shuttles that were housed there. He didn’t know how he was going to get those shuttles back to the planet without their being shot out of space by the fleet, but when he figured that out he would have the transport he needed.
The superman watched as the last guard was dispatched and the way cleared, then stalked in his metal suit into the brig. The robots had already opened the cells from the central control panel, after moving the body of the security officer off of it. “Who is in charge of your group?” he questioned, his voice booming out of the suit speaker system.
“I guess I am,” said a young woman, stepping from the group that was starting to gather in the central room of the brig. “Since the bastards killed my captain.”
Watcher looked the proud young lady in the face, noting the commander tabs on her torn jumper. She looked back at him with big dark eyes that were unafraid, despite the treatment she had received at the hands of the Nation of Humanity. Both of those eyes were blackened, and there were cuts on her face, and the gaps where teeth used to be showing when she spoke. The jumper was almost ripped apart, and her flesh was marred with many cuts and bruises. And I’m sure the injuries go deeper than the surface, thought Watcher with a grimace. He knew the Nation had sophisticated torture methods that they must have also used. Bastards, he thought, then cleared his mind. There would be time for rage later. Now it was time to act.
“I am Commander Kallistara,” said the woman, glancing around at her ragged command. “XO of the Callista. Or I guess I should say the former XO, since Callista no longer exists. And who might I be talking to?”
“I am Watcher,” said the armored warrior, smiling at the looks of surprise and mumbled words.
“And you have come to rescue us?” said the senior officer in a surprised voice.
“I came to rescue Pandora Latham, who I believe you people are familiar with,” said Watcher, taking a second to monitor Pandi and frowning. That woman is determined to get herself killed.
“So she lived,” said the woman, relief in her voice, while the murmuring of the people behind her increased “She saved our lives, or the fanatics would have wiped us out without a fight. But we were afraid that she was killed when her ship exploded.”
“She got off,” said Watcher, again monitoring Pandora and seeing that she had gotten herself out of the room and into another storage area. But they would find her soon. “We need to move, now. If you are willing to help, I will try to get you off the station.”
“And if we aren’t willing to help?” yelled out a young man from the group who was cradling an arm that looked to be broken.
“I will still get you out of here, or at least make a try,” said Watcher, looking the man in the eyes until the Spacer turned away. “I won’t be able to leave security here for you, and it will take longer, but if there is a way to get you off this ship, and back to your homes, I will find it.” I have so much to atone for, thought Watcher, looking at the frightened faces before him, and seeing determination come over most of them. I can at least do this much for allies.
“What say you?” said the young Commander, looking back at her crew.
The yells were overwhelmingly to the positive, with only a few naysayers.
“I guess that means we are your people, Watcher,” said the Commander, giving him a gap toothed smile.
“Then gather up what weapons there are. Arm yourselves. Then we will strike for the armory over in the next section.”
“And then?” asked the officer with a grin.
“And then we take this ship. And we rejoin your companions on the surface, who I am sure are doing what they can to help us.”
The Suryans started to move, gathering weapons and making sure those best able to use them had them.
It was a short fight to get to the armory, with Watcher and his robots providing the point of the assault force, the Suryans securing the flanks. Soon the Suryans were being equipped with Marine combat equipment, sans the armored suits which had to be fitted to the individual. Still, they had naval personnel helmets and body armor, and Watcher led a much improved force away from the Armory. He was starting to feel good about his chances of taking the ship when they ran into the first line of Marines.
* * *
“The damned woman has broken free again,” called the voice of the Security Chief over the com.
“And how in the Hells did that happen?” asked Admiral Gerasi, sitting up in his command chair on the bridge and putting his face in his hands. That woman will be the death of me yet.
“She had some tricks on her suit that caught us unawares,” said the Chief of Security. “She was able to use the laser units on her forearms to cut herself free.”
“Casualties?” asked Gerasi in a tired voice.
“Three spacers, including the officer in charge, and three Marines.”
“And where is she now?”
“We don’t know, sir,” said the Security Chief in a low voice. “She disappeared once she got out of the compartment.”
“Of course you don’t know,” said Gerasi, straining to keep his voice calm. “And how did she get out of the compartment? You had men outside of it, did you not?”
“We had sent all the men we had to the stern amidships, to take care of the Abomination,” said the man, a cringe in his voice. “We did not expect her to be able to escape.”
“Detail as many men as you can to find her,” said Gerasi, enunciating each word while he tried to stay calm.
“All of the Marines are engaged, or soon to be engaged, with the Abomination and the Suryans he freed.”
Gerasi closed his eyes and grimaced at that. With one move Watcher had doubled his strength. “Then arm spacers to search for her, and maybe a platoon of the reinforcements. The rest of the Marines will be detailed to take the Abomination.”
“And what do we do if we capture her?” said the Security Chief.
“You don’t capture her, you dolt,” growled the Admiral over the link. “You kill her. You make sure her body is turned to ash and vapor, after you make sure that it actually is her. Maybe save a finger for genetic testing. But I want her dead, even if you have to destroy half the ship to get her.”
“Are you sure about that last, Admiral?”
“I am fucking sure, you dumb ass,” he yelled. “And the Abomination too. Because if we don’t kill them they will take this ship away from us, and it won’t matter what condition it is in. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir,” said the Chief in a cowed tone. “I’ll get right on it. May God be with us.”
“May God be with us,” repeated the Admiral in the statement of faith of his church. Though he doesn’t seem to be doing too well by us so far. The Admiral shook his head and dismissed that blasphemous thought. God did as God did, and it was not for man to question him. It was only for men to strive to accomplish God’s will, and stand up to whatever tests were placed on his shoulders. But why did I have to be tested with these two? he thought, shaking his head while the rest of the bridge crew kept glancing at him, wondering if he was in his right mind.
* * *
“I’m getting damned tired of this,” growled Colonel Wilhelm Johanson, looking up at the map of the Galaxy that floated in the center of the huge chamber. “Why the hell can’t we get this thing to accept the signal? I would have thought that something would have to get through if we sent it continuous.”
“I just wish we could find a control center for the computer,” said Commander Hanson, his fingers flying on the virtual keyboard attached to the computer plugged into the console.
“I guess we could look around some more,” said the Colonel, turning a baleful gaze onto the console. “But we don’t even know what we’re looking for. Would it be an impressive room with a lot of chairs and console
s, or simply a room with one chair and a holo projector?”
“Or a room like this?” said the Commander, sitting up straight in his chair. “Computer. Is this one of the control rooms?”
“Do you really think it will answer that question?” asked the scowling Colonel.
“I think it can beat around the bush a bit,” said the Commander with a shrug of his shoulders. “But I believe it has to be truthful with the answer to a direct question, if it is allowed to answer at all. So again, computer, is this one of the control rooms for you?”
“It is indeed, Commander,” said the toneless voice that still seemed to be laden with regret. “From this room all of my central functions can be accessed.”
“At this console?”
“No, Commander. This is not the console to directly access my functions. It is on the other side of the room.”
“Show it to me,” said the Colonel, a smile creeping across his face. “Show it to me, you blasted machine, and right now.”
The Colonel looked over at the Commander with a smile of triumph. We got you, you son of a bitch. And once we get you we have this whole damned place.
Chapter Twenty-Five
It always amazed me how soon the miraculous seemed to become the normal. When I first came to the future everything was an eye opener. Now I take it as matter of fact. I guess we’re not so advanced from the monkeys we came from, able to adjust to just about anything. Or else the God my daddy believed in was not very good at making us better than the beasts. Pandora Latham.
Pandora crept down the corridor, her suit not making a sound as she floated ten centimeters above the floor, the stealth field blending her in with her surroundings. There were some damaged areas on the skin of the suit that weren’t functioning properly, but as long as she kept in the shadows she didn’t think that would be much of a problem. And having partial control of the lighting systems made sure there were shadows to use.
Her audio sensors picked up a sound from ahead, from where the corridor intersected with another, and Pandi shifted her suit orientation and floated up to the ceiling, between the crossbeams that strengthened the corridor. She faced down and locked her suit into position, using the soles of her feet and her fingertips to bond to the metal surface. And then she waited, pretty sure that she would be invisible to whoever would look that way, still tensing up and getting ready to move into the attack if she was spotted.
Don’t know how much more excitement I can take, she thought as her audio pickups followed the sound of boot heels striking the surface of the floor. There were four of them passing her way, and soon she could see them advancing along the corridor. All were dressed as spacers, with body armor strapped to their chests, shoulders and thighs, as well as helmets on their heads. They all were carrying mag rifles, one with a grenade launcher, and had bandoliers of ammo strapped over their body armor. Pandora breathed a sigh of relief that they weren’t Marines, whose visual and audio systems might have picked her up despite her stealth.
The men stepped below, then the one in charge raised a fist in the air and they all stopped, directly beneath her. Crap, thought Pandora as the sweat ran off her face to strike her faceplate. The ever present suit nanos attacked the drops of moisture and whisked them away, but the woman still had the irrational notion that some sweat would get through and fall onto the men below.
“What you stopping for, Chief?” asked the man with the grenade launcher.
“I thought I heard something,” said the man, looking around. He glanced up a second and Pandora felt her heart in her throat. She stayed motionless, her suit locked so she couldn’t make an inadvertent move. The man’s eyes only moved in her direction for a moment, then slid back to the front. “Wonder why there are so many shadows in the corridors,” said the Chief, glancing up the corridor. “What’s wrong with the lighting system?”
“Hell, Chief,” said one of the men, his own eyes darting around the corridor ahead and behind. “As shot up as this ship is, I’m surprised anything is working.”
“Must be my nerves, dealing with these damned heretics,” said the Chief, shaking his head.
“And heretics with superior tech,” said another man, his own eyes darting here and there. “Ain’t that a bitch. Makes me wonder whose side God is on sometimes.”
“Watch your blasphemous mouth, Connors,” growled the leader, glaring at the speaker. “Or do you want to make the acquaintance of an Inquisitor?”
“Kind of hard, that,” said the grenadier. “She went and killed all the Inquisitors on this ship, deader than shit.”
“The Hell with it,” said the leader, raising a hand in the air that was only an eighth meter from touching the invisible woman. “Let’s move out, so we can get this over with.”
“I just hope it’s someone else who makes first contact with her,” said the grenadier, shaking his head. “Whoever finds her first,” he continued, shaking his head again. “Well, I hope they get to heaven quickly.”
“Let’s go,” growled the leader, stepping off down the corridor, the others following at his back.
Pandora let out her breath in a sigh of relief. She waited until the men were thirty meters down the corridor before she unbonded from the ceiling and dropped down, floating on her grabbers. She looked over the schematic of the ship in her mind and found the route she wanted. It might take her some time to get to where she was going, but she thought she could get there. First she had to get into the starboard amidships missile room, and then navigate up the warhead feeds to one of the sternward missile rooms. Then it would be a short run to where Watcher was, and they could get off this damned ship.
* * *
This is really not going as planned, thought Watcher as he snapped off a particle beam at the enemy position, and saw it splash from the strong electromagnetic shield those worthy’s had erected before them. A particle beam came back in return, and ninety percent splashed from Watcher’s electromag field. The ten percent that got through caused some scarring to his armor, and the superconducting cooling system went into overdrive to shunt the heat away before it got to his flesh.
Watcher changed the beam with a thought, setting it for neutrons, which might make it through the field. He leaned around the corner with his weapon and fired a snap shot at the enemy particle beam, then cursed again as it splashed off the screen. He ducked back just before the enemy put a beam through the position he had just occupied, the angry red line eating into the wall of the corridor. The field is too thick, he thought. His neutron beam had picked up a charge as it flew through the positively charged field, slowing down and deflecting away as it penetrated inward. What got through hit a physical barricade of hard metal, and the point of impact glowing for just a moment. That spot showed white for a second, then went through red and cool black so fast that he knew there was superconducting heat sink system built into the metal.
He thought about using negative matter for a moment, then dismissed the idea. It would just be deflected and come back his way, and there was no telling how much would hit friendlies. And we’ve never worked with neutrally charged negative matter, he thought, since such would be uncontainable by any kind of containment field.
I should have moved faster, and not waited for the Suryans to get armed and ready, was his next thought, as he watched a trio of particle beams intersect one of his battlebots and leave its head a mass of glowing, melting metal. The robot of course had its processors in the better protected chest region, but the hit had still taken out most of its sensory nodes.
No, I had to wait, and let the fanatics establish themselves in redoubts behind strong electromag screens. Watcher was a student of military history, and he knew the saying that no plan survived contact with the enemy. He thought the saying needed revision now, to no plan could help but devolve into total chaos on contact with the enemy. If he had moved faster, or even ignored the brig and its captives altogether, he would already be past this block. Instead he was fighting a fortified enemy in
that enemy’s territory, which he knew much better than Watcher. And like Stalingrad in the past, his superior tech and abilities were being neutralized in a battle of attrition he could not win.
“I am truly sorry, Pandora,” he said under his breath, looking at the schematic and wondering what he could do to break the deadlock. The only recourse he could see was to move his squad of robots that were still on the hull around the enemy, and attack them to the rear. That meant committing his last reserve, something he was not wont to do, but it seemed the situation would give him no other choice.
[Move out,] he ordered the robots over the link, watching as they rose up on the hull and started moving forward to the next airlock, where they could infiltrate into the ship.
Something hit one of the robots, an invisible beam that left a glowing patch on its shoulder. This was followed by more beams, and Watcher looked through the eyes of one of the bots to see a couple of squads of Nation Marines, firing from a hundred meters away on the hull. He didn’t know how they had spotted the stealthed robots, but they had, and unless he could get the robots to cover, soon, they would be swatted from the hull.
Too late, he cried in his thoughts as the mounted lasers and particle beams on surrounding ships began to fall on the robots, turning them into glowing scrap at the same time they blasted a deep hole in the hull of the Orca. He didn’t know how many casualties the weapons strike from the other ships might have caused to the flagship, but it had sure as shit destroyed his one reserve.
He checked his HUD again, noting that the three robots and fifteen Suryans he had sent on a flanking maneuver were almost to the point where they would make contact with the enemy, and he followed them closely in between the shots he fired at the Marines to his front. Come on, he thought, trying to exert his will and make the maneuver successful. Then they were gone, and a low rumbling vibration told of some kind of large explosion nearby.
To Well And Back (The Deep Dark Well) Page 28