The slim young woman puts fists on her hips, atop the embroidered work pants she wore, and fixed blue eyes on Airmed. “Governor! Everyone knows about the people you are secretly training for the Vigilante fleet! And they knew to keep their mouths shut during the visit by the Meligun bear spy.”
Airmed gave thanks again for Balor’s advice to send this boisterous young woman out on a Scouting campout trip. Which clearly had not sufficed to keep her away from the capital. A ring on her left hand buzzed silently, telling her that Matthew Dragoneaux had entered the building. With three other people according to the buzz pattern. She sighed.
“Gerald! Bring us a pitcher of ice water! And a dozen glasses! Who knows who else will show up to demolish my day’s schedule.”
Matt, walking hand in hand with Eliana as they exited the Nullgrav elevator block, led his Mom and sister into the spacious, beautifully decorated office of Governor O’Davoren. A metal mobile hung from the ceiling. A large aquarium filled with puffer fish stood in front of the glass wall that looked out on the Greek-style buildings of Lisdoonvarna. And music of a Celtic nature echoed softly off the room’s pale green walls. He stopped in front of a ruddy-faced young man. Gerald, he recalled from his visit a year ago.
“Gerald?” He smiled the way Eliana had taught him to smile when in the company of other humans. “I am here for my visit with Governor O’Davoren. With me are my lifemate Eliana, my sister Charlotte and my mother Kristen Dragoneaux. Is the governor available?”
Gerald brushed back his brown hair, met his smile with a guilty look and stood up. “Yes, Vigilante Dragoneaux, our Governor O’Davoren is in her office. She . . . was joined moments ago by a young woman you may know. Her name is Maeve O’Grady. Please follow me.”
With a tuneful whistle of surprise, Matt followed Gerald into Airmed O’Davoren’s executive office. Eliana and Charlotte gave him a mindlink smile as they picked up on his surprise. Then all of them looked at the young blond girl who jumped up from the couch and gave him a three finger salute.
“Fleet Captain Dragoneaux,” she said firmly, her blue eyes focusing only on Matt. “I am Maeve O’Grady! You rescued me a year ago. Since then I have trained at laser rifle shooting and hoverjet maneuvering. Please accept me as a pilot trainee in your fleet!”
Eliana felt Matt’s mental surprise, his brief chagrin, then his softness of feeling for the young woman they all knew had been beaten and raped a year ago. By that bastard Conand O’Toole! She felt Charlotte’s mental shock at the mindimage of the naked Maeve that had been recorded by Mata Hari’s Spy Eye, then a feeling of nausea from Matt’s sister as she mindviewed the dismemberment of O’Toole. She pushed that memory into a deep vault and gave her mind-sister a shrug.
“Charlotte, it was necessary.”
Matt ignored their mental communion chatter and focused on the young woman who had overcome much to appear here as bravely as she had.
“Hello young Maeve. I thank you for your offer to serve as a pilot in my fleet. Does your mother Brigida approve of your offer?”
Maeve frowned. “No, she does not. And I know she will not be happy with my decision. But I am of adult age for us Tuatha De Danaan. I choose to be at your service!”
Matt nodded slowly, his mental reaction to Maeve a mix of interest, surprise, deep consideration and curiosity. “Why do you wish to be of service to me and my fleet?”
“So I can kill more slavers like that bastard O’Toole!” she yelled, then gulped. But her gaze stayed steady. As steady as a rock.
Matthew walked up to the young woman who was tall but still did not reach Matt’s chin. Her lifemate looked aside to Airmed. “Governor, how many new pilot volunteers have you gathered since my last visit?”
“Forty-three,” said the middle-aged woman who had put her life and her good name to the defense of two million humans who hailed from the island of Eire, on far distant Earth.
Matt nodded. She felt his decision even as he reached to lift up Maeve’s chin so her blue eyes were fixed on him. “Hatred alone is not a good motive for fighting in a war. This war is a war for the extinction of cloneslavery from this galaxy. It is not a war for personal vengeance.”
“Brother,” called Charlotte as she walked up to stand beside a worried-looking Maeve. “You are right about not letting vengeance rule your life.” Charlotte looked at their pilot volunteer. “Maeve, I lived fifteen years as a labor slave to a Meligun bear person. I was fed decently, had shelter from the elements and most of what my owner wanted was back massages and cleaning of his fur. Still, I had no personal freedom. And my owner implanted a tracking nodule in my neck, here, where you can see the pale scar. I gave up my hatred and my wish for vengeance long ago. Do you know why?”
“No, mistress Charlotte,” Maeve said in a subdued voice. “Why?”
“Because I realized that living in hatred meant my owner possessed my soul, my inner self, even my thoughts in a way. I determined to deny him that!”
Matt nodded to Maeve. “My sister is wise beyond her years. She learned something that my Eliana has long counseled me to adopt. Can you, Maeve, abandon your thirst for vengeance?”
The blond-haired girl blinked, glanced at Charlotte whose mind felt deep empathy for the girl, then looked up at Eliana’s Matthew. “Yes, I can. With your help. And with Charlotte’s help. Please?”
Eliana felt Matt’s mental sense of satisfaction, his sense of gaining another pilot, and a sense of success in helping young Maeve to recover from her rape and mistreatment.
“I accept your offer of pilot service, young Maeve. How do you Tuatha De Danaan swear an oath?”
“This way,” Maeve said as she struck her chest with her forearm. “My aid of arms is yours to command. My food is yours to share. My beer and wine are ours to enjoy. And my family’s heritage song will include your name in an honored place!”
Eliana had never heard an oath so simple, so real and so binding as what Maeve had just said. In mindlink with her brother and with Charlotte, they celebrated the recovery of a cloneslave captive.
Hours later Matt stood with Eliana in the Park habitat. They had been called there by Mata Hari and Gatekeeper. Only they had been called by mindvoice. It was clear the other humans on ship Mata Hari were not invited to whatever his two AIs planned. He looked across the blue pond as Mata Hari’s mind globe, a copy of the purple one occupied by Altuna, floated toward them. Beside her floated the silvery mind globe of Gatekeeper. Their holo images hovered atop their individual globes. A third mind globe floated in on Nullgrav, between Mata Hari and Gatekeeper. It was not Altuna’s or BattleMind’s mind globe. Feeling Eliana’s intense interest over their shared mindlink, he spoke.
“Mata Hari, Gatekeeper, we are here as requested. Uh, where did that little globe come from?”
“From us,” whispered Mata Hari in a voice tone that did not match any of her personas.
“From both of us,” said Gatekeeper, his holo face showing a shy smile.
“A baby!” cried Eliana.
“In a moment, yes,” said Mata Hari.
His AI partner’s mind globe touched Gatekeeper’s mind globe. At the crevice between them, the small mind globe touched both larger globes. A purple glow enveloped all three globes.
“Helllllloooo, my progenitors,” squeaked a voice that sounded like a mix of his voice, Eliana’s voice, Mata Hari’s Spy voice and Gatekeeper’s gardener voice.
Matt smiled the way Eliana had taught him. As she too did, both in mindvoice and in real-time physical reality.
“Wow!” he exclaimed. “That’s a fast learner! Do you have a name for your offspring?”
“Yes!” yelled Eliana, moving to kneel before the small purple mind globe.
Gatekeeper smiled broadly. “We call her—”
“Child,” spoke Mata Hari as she finished the mind-thought of her AI partner.
Eliana jerked on him to kneel down beside her. He did, enjoying the smell of fresh grass.
“Hello, Child,” croone
d Eliana. “We are Eliana and Matt. We also are expecting a baby! You two can play together in nine months.”
Everyone laughed, including Child, Mata Hari and Gatekeeper.
Matt realized that the new AI baby, and their baby to be, were their call to the universe that they believed there was a future life of joy for them and their babies.
“To the future!”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Mindstorm inhaled the scented salty water of his basin as he hovered on Nullgrav before the Council of Sixteen. All the lifeforms of the council had gathered here at the call of Sooteen of Sector 16. His Intel Chief Sytoon floated in his own water basin behind the brown and red colors of Sooteen. Their leader’s four brown eyestalks fixed on him.
“Mindstorm of the Nik-nik thot species, your hereditary claim to leadership of Sector 14 has been called into question by your Intelligence High Commander, one Sytoon.” She paused in her high tone Belizel clacking to scan the assembled council. “Sector 13 Leader Noktoren of the Solink species has argued against this conclave, saying the loss of battleglobes in your sector, the decimation of your naval bases, and the destruction of tachlink nodes has happened before.” Sooteen spurt exhaled water into the middle of their Nullgrav supports. “However, I disagree. Scores of attacks on Anarchate ships and bases in other sectors have occurred. Our battleglobe strength is down to 9,943 on active duty. And the galactic tachnet is filled with words that question the value of the Anarchate to Trade. Your response?”
He stood upright on all six pincer feet, telling the overhead lights to shine brightly on his traceries of colorful stones. “Council Chief Sooteen, I admit to failure to capture this renegade biped whose strange alien ships have caused so much harm. However, I relied on the Intel data supplied by Sytoon! And I ordered the destruction of my remaining battleglobes in a Nova Blast aimed at destroying this renegade!”
“An effort that did not succeed,” whistled Sector 15 Leader Rolette am-tok. The Hootnai quadruped slowly scanned the entire council. “My offer of 200 battleglobes is withdrawn. Further battle within Sector 14 is clearly useless under the leadership of Mindstorm of the Nik-nik thot. I support a change in Sector 14 leadership.”
Mindstorm felt the storm clouds gathering all too closely. Soon a wave would crest over him and smash him against shore rocks. “Leaders! Fellow sector administrators! I offer my own corpus! If you defeat this effort to violate ancient tradition, I myself will lead my remaining battleglobes against this biped who spreads Trade heresy!”
The tone of surprise from his fellow council members encouraged him. Then his Intel Chief clacked loudly.
“Sector 14’s remaining battleglobes amount to just twelve. And none of them are outfitted with the Black Hole ejector and Alcubierre Bubble generator that were developed by Sector Captain Running Leader.” Sytoon cast its eyestalks his way in a Loglan slant that indicated high skepticism. “The Observer Globe record of battle at Orion Nebula shows the biped’s fleet destroyed even the refitted battleglobes of Running Leader. New sector leadership is required.”
Mindstorm wondered if Sooteen’s offer of her fellow Loglan Sytoon to be his new Intel chief had been part of a plan to displace him from the beginning of this trouble in his sector. He put nothing beyond the power-hungry reach of the Loglan species.
“And who would lead this sector?” he clacked to the council members. “I have extensive experience in dealing with this insane biped! My advice has been well-considered. Only the inaccurate intelligence of High Commander Brrzeet led to the loss of so many battleglobes. This council should respect tradition and—”
“I offer myself as leader of Sector 14,” clacked Sytoon in his second break with ancient decorum. A tradition violation allowed by Sooteen.
“What!” he clacked loudly, pointing a pincer toward the disloyal Intel commander. “He is an upstart! That amphibian has never administered any group larger—”
“Council members,” growled Dooshesh mik-mal of Sector 9. “I offer a means of defeating the 501 T’Chak warships that now harass our sectors.”
Everyone went silent, even the two sectors run by people who spoke with light glows. Then Sooteen’s soft shell changed color to a mix of orange, yellow, brown, red and the pink of curiosity.
“Explain your statement, Sector 9 Leader,” she clacked in a Belizel tone suggestive of intense interest.
The Meligun biped looked toward Mindstorm, then at Sytoon, before fixing its two pink oculars on Sooteen.
“Council Chief Sooteen, my Melikark Conglomerate has obtained the design for a new stardrive. It is twice as fast as our Alcubierre stardrive. And, most importantly, it does not emit a gravity wave pulse when it re-enters normal space-time.”
An intense wave of clacking, hooting, whistling, sonar echoes and jumbled light glows filled the council chamber.
“Silence!” clacked Sooteen. “Stop emitting conversation in whatever mode you use! Leader Dooshesh, explain the source of this new stardrive. And indicate whether it will be made available to Combat Command.”
The black-haired biped flared its narrow ears in a Meligun body speech that Mindstorm recalled meant Satisfaction Achieved. “Surely, chief of this council. The stardrive relies on Dark Energy to move a ship through the Dark Chamber of the universe. The drive takes energy from the nearly infinite Dark Energy that makes up three-fourths of all the matter and energy in our universe. The Dark Energy star drive is the result of our long Trade negotiations with the aliens of the Bogean Harmony. As you recall, we entered into Trade with these aliens more than a cycle ago. But the Bogean terms for entering Trade and selling this drive to us required our modification of the standard bondServant contract. This council sanctioned our Trade decision.”
Mindstorm sank into his water basin. He had been a chief proponent of punishing the Melikark Conglomerate and its council representative for its unilateral change to bondServant terms. He used his implanted tachlink module to call for his personal Courier ship.
“That council action can be reversed,” clacked Sooteen.
The Meligun biped stepped off of its gravplate pallet and began walking on Nullgrav plates attached to its black-clawed pincer-feet. “Such action is overdue. But appreciated. And yes, our Dark Energy stardrive—which is the same stardrive possessed by the command ship of the biped Dragoneaux—will be made available to Combat Command.” The Meligun biped paused for what everyone knew to be dramatic effect. Even the light-talkers dimmed their emissions. “For a price of one million platinum Standards per ship. The council will also order the sharing of the new Sector 14 weapons of Black Hole Ejector and Alcubierre Bubble generator with our sector’s shipyards. We will fabricate such weapons for the use of all battleglobes in the galaxy. The price of manufacturing such items will be modest.”
Mindstorm knew defeat when he heard it. His neurolink control ordered his water basin to leave the council chamber. Which it proceeded to do as council members debated the demands of the Melikark Conglomerate representative.
“Mindstorm!” clacked Sytoon of the Loglan. “You cannot escape me! My agents will locate you and show you an impoverishment you will never escape!”
Mindstorm’s water basin tilted a bit as it rounded a curve in the hallway of the skyrise on Central Nexus that housed the council chamber. Water spilled out. Moving upward to the top of the skyrise, he gave thanks that his Courier ship responded only to his speech acoustics and his bodyheat signature.
As for his future impoverishment, well, the jewels that encrusted his shell had a large value in platinum Standards. Enough value to buy him intelligence on the Human renegade who had cost him the hereditary post on the Council of Sixteen!
Mindstorm would never stop hunting for this Matthew Raven’s-Wing Dragoneaux. He would not seek a return of luxury on a distant resort world. Perhaps he could recover his position on the Council of Sixteen if he captured this Trade heretic. If not, then there would be at least one benefit to his loss of status.
“Vengeance
will be mine!” he clacked to the empty hallways of Central Nexus.
The End
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
T. Jackson King (Tom) is a professional archaeologist, journalist and former Hippie. He learned early on to question authority and find answers for himself, partly due to reading lots of science fiction novels. He also worked at a radiocarbon dating laboratory at UC Riverside and UCLA. Tom attended college in Paris and Tokyo, then helped organize anti-Vietnam War demos in Knoxville, Tennessee. Tom is a graduate of UCLA (M.A. 1976, archaeology) and the University of Tennessee (B.Sc. 1971, journalism). Tom has worked as an archaeologist in the American Southwest and has traveled widely in Europe, Russia, Japan, Canada, Mexico and the United States of America. Other jobs have included short order cook, hotel clerk, legal assistant, telephone order taker, investigative reporter and newspaper editor. He also survived the warped speech-talk of local politicians and escaped with his hide intact. He writes hard science fiction, anthropological scifi, dark fantasy/horror and contemporary fantasy/magic realism. Tom’s published science fiction novels are THE MEMORY SINGER (Fantastic Books, 2014), ANARCHATE VIGILANTE (Wilder Publications, 2014), GALACTIC VIGILANTE (Wilder Publications, 2013), NEBULA VIGILANTE (Wilder Publications, 2013), SPEAKER TO ALIENS (Wilder Publications, 2013), GALACTIC AVATAR (Wilder Publications, 2013), STELLAR ASSASSIN (Wilder Publications, 2013), STAR VIGILANTE (2012), THE GAEAN ENCHANTMENT (Wilder Publications, 2012), LITTLE BROTHER’S WORLD (Fantastic Books, 2010), ANCESTOR’S WORLD (Ace Books, 1996, with A.C. Crispin), and RETREAD SHOP (Warner Books, 1988, 2012). His short stories have appeared in the collection JUDGMENT DAY AND OTHER DREAMS (Fantastic Books, 2009). His poetry has appeared in the collection MOTHER EARTH’S STRETCH MARKS (Motherbird Books, 2009). Tom lives in Los Alamos, New Mexico, USA. He has three grown children. Tom can be reached at [email protected]. His writings can be viewed at http://www.tjacksonking.weebly.com/.
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