Invaders: Dreadnought Ocelot (Invaders Series Book 4)

by Vaughn Heppner

  “It’s alive?”

  “I suspect an advanced computer runs it,” Rax said. “Whether the computer is sentient or not, I do not know. In any case, you must accelerate toward the asteroid.”

  “You mean close faster with the missile?”

  “That is the one negative effect to the new plan, I grant you, but not the purpose for the action. To give us the best chance for success, I must be in closer communication range with the Synthesizer.”

  “Why would that matter?”

  “Logan, we lack time to engage in this back and forth. I imagine I am correct in saying that both our lives are on the line. Thus, haste is critical. Please, accelerate toward the asteroid.”

  “I don’t see an asteroid.” I didn’t even see the missile anymore. “But if you give me the coordinates, I’ll steer there and accelerate.”

  “Excellent,” Rax said. “Here are the coordinates.”

  I followed his instructions, and the sled increased speed. I had to grip the handlebars tighter, although I did wear a safety strap to help me remain onboard.

  “Progress,” Rax said a moment later.

  “What does that mean?”

  “That you must cease your monkey chattering for just a bit,” Rax said huffily. “I am in direct contact with the entity. She is quite—”

  That was the last the crystal said.

  “Rax?” I asked. “Are you okay?”

  He did not reply.

  “Rax,” I said. “If you’re not going to say anything, I’m going to get out my blaster for target practice.”

  There was still no reply.

  I knit my brows. Was Rax in trouble? He had said he’d made contact with an entity. If it had been a computer, would he have called it an entity?

  The seconds lengthened into one minute and then two. I shifted on the sled. I didn’t really want to blast Rax into atoms.

  “Logan,” Rax said suddenly.

  “Yeah, yeah, what’s happening?”

  A bright flare of light appeared ahead of us. Was that good or bad? Was—

  A tingling, itchy feeling struck, like the feeling of transfer tech—

  “We are in grave danger,” Rax said in a tinny voice. “I have erred and apologize in advance for what you will have to undergo…”

  I didn’t hear anymore as I began to teleport off the sled.

  -13-

  I rematerialized naked on a steel table with cold restraints around my ankles, thighs, midsection, wrists, biceps and neck. I shivered because the restraints and the table were freezing.

  There was no sign of Rax, my blaster or my spacesuit and clothes. I looked around. The small chamber had strange, alien machines beside me. They started humming, increasing pitch rapidly.

  “Hey,” I said. “There’s been a mistake.”

  I recalled Rax’s apology. The implications seemed dire.

  There had been a dim glow in the chamber when I’d first arrived. Now, harsh lights snapped on above me. The air tasted stale, but a unit purred, and it rapidly grew purer and warmer.

  Had I teleported to the Synthesizer or the asteroid where it had been hidden for who knew how long? If that was so, the bright light I’d seen just before teleporting must have been the kinetic-kill missile self-detonating.

  That would be good, though, right? I mean, being alive was categorically better than being dead. If something bad was going to happen to me, I should be glad I wasn’t a smear of atoms floating in the Asteroid Belt.

  “You are Logan?” a feminine voice asked.

  I looked around to see who was talking, but could find no source for the voice.

  “You are awake,” she said. “I am speaking Anglic so you should be able to understand me.”

  “What?” I asked.

  “Oh, so you can speak.”

  “What’s Anglic?”

  “Hmm… English, you mortals call it English. Yes. That is the name of the language we are conversing in, is it not?”

  “I guess so.”

  “You do not know? I was led to believe you had a modicum of higher intelligence.”

  “If I’m too stupid for you to use, what will happen to me?”

  “The question implies cunning on your part. Yes. You are intelligent enough after all. Rax did not lie regarding you.”

  I hesitated before asking, “Speaking of Rax, where is he?”

  “Receiving payment for the trade,” she said.

  “What trade?”

  “That is an unseemly question from the chattel I’ve just acquired. You are mine now to do with as I please.”

  I squirmed, testing my strength against the steel restraints.

  “That is a primitive response,” she said. “Something I did not expect. You do have fine musculature, however, and are well-endowed sexually. Yes. You will do just fine.”

  What had Rax gotten me into this time?

  “This is interesting. According to my instruments, you have a high survival aptitude. I believe Rax said that Argon named you a natural. I deem that an accurate statement. Nevertheless, I do not want to worry about you attempting an escape. Yes. I believe I shall have you blinded.”

  “What? Wait a minute. Why blind me?”

  “I will use you for sexual congress on occasion. You do not need your eyes for that.”

  A large slot on the ceiling dilated open, allowing an array of ugly mechanical tentacles to descend toward my face. Some of them held tiny drills, and others, equally small scoops.

  A sick feeling twisted my gut as the back of my throat burned. I was about to vomit. This couldn’t be happening. Is this why Rax had apologized? Had he known an alien planned to blind me so I could be a powerless harem slave?

  I blinked sweat out of my eyes. My mouth tasted foul. “Who are you?” I croaked.

  “How does that concern the object of the trade?” she asked, as if enjoying my growing terror.

  I watched in sick horror as the mechanical tentacles with drills and eye scoops approached my face. This was happening all too fast.

  “Ah, ah,” I said. “Can’t I at least see your beauty once? Let it be the last thing I see so I can know who it is I’m pleasing.”

  The lowering tentacles halted. I couldn’t take my gaze off them.

  “I am Ailuros, although in ancient Egypt they referred to me as the goddess Bastet.”

  It was hard to engage my mind, but I knew I had to keep her talking if I wanted those drills to stay far from my precious eyes. How could this even be happening?

  “Uh…Ailuros, huh? Sorry, but I’m drawing a blank on that.”

  “You have not heard of the Egyptian cat goddess?”

  “Nope.”

  “That is unthinkable.”

  “Uh…American education isn’t what it used to be,” I said, with sweat pouring from my body. I tried slipping my hands through the steel restraints, but it was still impossible.

  “I have referred to myself as an Egyptian goddess, but you surely must realize that in reality I am a Polarion.”

  “Oh… Yeah, yeah. That makes more sense. You’ve been in charge of the Synthesizer all this time, huh?”

  “You vile creature. How dare you ascribe such a lowly position to one who used to rule as a goddess among your primitive kind?”

  “Uh…”

  “But maybe that has more to do with your cunning. Rax warned me you would attempt to thwart your newfound purpose.”

  “He did what?” I asked.

  “Argon trapped me here ages ago,” Ailuros said. “We were married—”

  “Hey,” I said, seeing a loophole. “You and I can’t have sex then, as I’m not an adulterer. Argon helped me once and I would feel awful—”

  “What nonsense,” she said, interrupting. “Do you think we goddesses have the same moral codes as you mortals?”

  “Uh…let me get this straight. You didn’t just play at being gods, but actually started thinking you were divine?”

  “This is most unseemly, and how dare yo
u throw that in my face? Argon used to ask me exactly that. He said I had become mentally unhinged, hinting that I was insane. He would not slay me, though, because we had been married once. So, he imprisoned me in the Synthesizer station, promising that someday he would use the great device to heal me of my megalomania, as he termed it. Argon surely did not realize that I had usurped control of the Synthesizer. Until this moment, I lacked access to malleable subjects. You are the first, Logan, and I would have changed you into the first of my new basilisks. Yet, upon scanning you and your wonderful musculature, I find an insatiable desire for sexual congress. It has been too long for me. Rax says ages and eons, yet I cannot accept that.”

  “This is crazy,” I muttered.

  “What is this? You say I am insane. I confide in you, and you immediately use the knowledge to mock me. I must say, Logan, I am beginning to think I should also remove your tongue as well as your eyes.”

  “Rax,” I shouted.

  “Do not call for your former master.”

  “He wasn’t my master.”

  “He is a Galactic Guard Advisor. This I know to be true.”

  “Even so—”

  “While you are—were—his trainee as an aboriginal native in local law enforcement.”

  “My lady, Rax has deceived you.”

  “It matters not. I’ve decided to reconfigure you into the image of Argon. Then, I will blind you. Afterward, I will use you for sexual sport. Once I am fully satisfied, then I shall do to you as I have longed to do to Argon, lo, these many ages.”

  “Rax!” I bellowed, struggling madly in my bonds.

  A mechanical tentacle lowered swiftly and swung hard, slapping me across the face.

  “Here now, none of that,” Ailuros said. “You are my chattel. Wailing for your former master will not aid you in the least, and it will bring you further harm if you insistent on begging for his return.”

  I had begun to hyperventilate. I should have tossed Rax into space when I had the chance and blown him into little crystal pieces and then beamed them into even finer particles.

  I cocked my head as my panicked thoughts finally congealed. I was losing it, but I was thinking about this the wrong way. The missile would have killed us. Instead, this instant, I was still alive. And according to Ailuros, Rax appeared to be free on the station. I might lose my eyes, maybe even my tongue, but my heart was still beating and—I had to keep the Polarion talking.

  “Interesting,” Ailuros said. “According to my instruments, my slap proved instructive, changing your mental state. That shows you can be trained.”

  “I can,” I admitted, changing tack and strategy. “I’m sorry if I’ve been acting wrongly.”

  “Hmm…. This is odd. Rax told me you were a fighter. Yet, one bitch-slap tames you? What kind of warrior were you, anyway?”

  “Ailuros—may I call you that?”

  “I suppose it will do no harm.”

  “Maybe I could perform a greater service for you than you’d anticipated.”

  “Ah, excellent, I believe this is more of your subterfuge at play. I do so enjoy seeing a man squirm in terror, even attempting to trick me. Once I give you Argon’s features that shall be even more enjoyable.”

  “That’s just it, Great Ailuros. I can help you capture Argon. Instead of pretending to harm him, you can really do so.”

  “You vile little snake of a creature. Argon has been dead for centuries. While many considered Polarions immortal, that was a myth we perpetrated on the universe. Thus, I have—”

  “I’ve spoken with Argon.”

  A tentacle lowered again, slapping my face first in one direction and then the other.

  “Great Ailuros,” I shouted, “the Starcore put Argon in a stasis tube, keeping him alive in cold storage.”

  The mechanical tentacle halted in mid swing. “The Starcore?” she asked. “You know about that?”

  “I should. I destroyed it.”

  “You?”

  “With Argon’s help,” I said hastily.

  “But… Argon really and truly is alive?”

  “He’s alive and well on Planet Earth,” I said. “Rax and I both saw him in the underground Great Machine.”

  “How does a little human like you know about the Great Machine?”

  “I know much more than Rax let on, Great Lady. Argon called me a natural. I’m the Galactic Guard agent keeping law on Earth.”

  “Piffle,” she said. “I do not care about the Galactic Guard. I have been imprisoned for eons. Rax was correct on that score. Argon lives, you say. Hmm… perhaps I have been hasty. You know that is the way when the need is upon one.”

  “Don’t I know it,” I said.

  “You vulgar mortal, how dare you comment on the sexual needs of a goddess?”

  I blinked more sweat out of my eyes. She must really be insane. Was she even a person? Maybe her thought processes had been coded into a computer. The tentacles were really her arms—

  Speaking of, the mechanical tentacles began to lower the drills and scoops.

  “Look, Great Ailuros, it really makes me mad the way Argon misused you. Maybe I could beat him up for you.”

  She did not comment, but the tentacles stopped descending and suddenly, the steel bonds snapped off my ankles, thighs, midsection, wrists, biceps and throat.

  Gingerly, I sat up, massaging my throat. “Thanks. You won’t be sorry you did this.”

  Several of the tentacles dropped their tools, whipped down and grasped me, lifting me into the air.

  “Hey!” I shouted.

  The mechanical tentacles drew me up through the opening in the ceiling. I struggled, but they just tightened their hold on my ankles and wrists.

  “Great Ailuros!” I shouted.

  The tentacles shifted and stiffened, rotating and pushing me up from a new opening in the floor of another presumably higher chamber. The tentacles stretched and set me on a conveyer belt of sorts. New leathery bonds grew out of the belt and securing me as I’d been held on the steel table. In seconds, the belt began to move, heading toward a huge metal machine that had started humming.

  “What’s going on?” I shouted.

  “Behold!” Ailuros said in a booming voice. “This is the Synthesizer.”

  I struggled harder.

  “Before you begin your labors for me, mortal, I must strengthen you. I must also probe your memories and insert a few new ones in order to help guide your thinking and coming actions. This will hurt tremendously.”

  “What exactly will your machine do to me?”

  “The Synthesizer will turn you into my avenger, Logan. Now, no more outcries, as I am deciding what sort of powers to graft onto you.”

  -14-

  I grew up like any American kid and had enjoyed reading comic books and watching superhero movies. I would have loved to fly, be invulnerable to bullets or do any of a number of things I’d watched on the big screen. I already had a form of super powers: healing much better than ordinary, being stronger and with tougher skin. But I did not want to enter an ancient Polarion machine under the control of some fake Egyptian goddess with delusions of grandeur.

  Ailuros had spoken earlier of molding me into Argon’s shape or turning me into a basilisk, whatever that was. I did not want to become a basilisk. I did not want to look like Argon so she could enact ancient revenge against her husband. I did not trust a machine that could synthesize my body into something different. Besides, she had talked about probing my memories and giving me new artificial ones.

  The conveyer stopped, and she spoke again:

  “I do not know whether I should give you fantastic strength or if I should grant you superhuman mental abilities. If I make you ultra-strong, I will have to make your body much denser than it is now. Perhaps I should have you project an energy ray from a third eye I would graft onto your forehead like the basilisks of old.”

  “Uh…just for the sake of curiosity,” I asked, “was the Synthesizer responsible for some of Earth’s leg
endary monsters like the Cyclops and Minotaur?”

  “You’ve heard of them?”

  I shuddered, wondering if there really had been terrible creatures in the dawn of humanity, creatures designed by Polarion super-science.

  “What about Hercules?” I asked, wanting to keep her talking. “Did the Synthesizer give him—?”

  “Great strength,” she said, interrupting me. “Yes. The prodigious strength went to his head, though, making him uncommonly arrogant for a mortal.”

  “That’s crazy,” I said.

  Ailuros fell silent.

  I struggled against the leathery bonds because I realized I shouldn’t have said crazy. That might drive her into fury. I jerked and pulled, but could not free myself.

  “I’ve changed my mind,” she said suddenly. “I am going to turn you into a basilisk for your impudence. I am going to graft a third eye onto your forehead and insert powerful circuitry into your chest. You will be my avenger, mind-controlled to bring Argon here. I will have fun then. And I can dispense with your sarcastic tongue once and for all.”

  “That was an error,” I said.

  “Your last one, I promise you.”

  The conveyer belt started moving again. I thrashed madly, trying to rip free from the restraints. That still proved impossible. I craned my head, peering ahead as best I could. What I saw horrified me: little flensing knives or razors. I had a bad feeling that the knives would peel the skin from my muscles.

  “Ailuros!” I shouted.

  Then I saw an even worse horror, if that was possible. It was a mechanical spider-thing. It had a central metal body the size of three pressed-together fists. Eight articulated mechanical legs moved like a giant Black Widow spider, scuttling rapidly toward me. On the bottom of the central metal casing was a pair of steel mandibles with dripping green fluids running down them. The mandibles looked razor-sharp and the fluids—

  I roared with fear, thrashing, panting and jerking my limbs, desperately trying to avoid this fate.

  “Logan, stop that,” Rax said.

  I jerked my head back and forth, looking for Rax. As I did, the mechanical spider scuttled even closer.

  “Ailuros!” I roared. “I’m never going to obey you! I’m going to find you and—”