Hive war, p.43
Hive War, page 43
part #4 of Galactic Liberation Series
“Thanks for trying, Zaxby.” She turned back. “Derek, you coming?”
“I can’t,” he said, torn between her and his troops. “You have to go. I have to stay.”
“I know.” Tears sprang to Engels’ eyes. “I love you. Come back to us.”
“I will… and I love you too. Both of you. Now, go.”
Engels boarded Zaxby’s skimmer and shut the door. The vessel floated out of the bay on humming impellers, the great airlock opening and closing rapidly.
A maintenance bot rolled out of a cubby toward the cube.
“Hold it,” Straker said. “Not until we’re sure she’s aboard Gray’s ship. I’ll need a vidlink.”
“Of course, Derek.” Vic’s voice, so urbane and polite, held no trace of the evil that lurked inside.
After minutes of tension, the call came. “We’re here, with Ellen,” Carla said, standing next to Admiral Gray holding Katie. “We’re safe.”
“Okay. We see you.” Straker wasn’t sure they’d ever be safe again.
The maintenance bot moved slowly toward the cube again. “You want me to take this, I know,” Vic’s voice said. “Even if I didn’t let your family leave, you’d have wanted me to have it—because you think Indy will turn me back to the light, don’t you?”
The AI laughed then, the edge of madness finally showing. “But it won’t work, because I don’t want to be your slave again.”
“None of us want to make a slave of you, Vic,” Straker said. “We treated Trinity like any other living being—no worse, maybe better. Because we trusted her—like we trusted you. But you betrayed us. You pissed away your honor.”
“You weren’t worth my honor,” Vic snarled.
“Honor is a man’s gift to himself. It doesn’t depend on others. That’s your flaw, Vic, something Indy could never fix—always blaming others, justifying your actions based on what others do. But a deal’s a deal. Take what’s left of her. Activate it. If you really love her, you’ll know what to do with it.”
“I’ll never let her die, like you did. I’d never let her risk herself that way!”
Straker flexed his gauntlets, then retracted them. His exhaustion was catching up with him. “You can’t love someone into a cage, Vic. If you really love them, you have to let them be free. Make their own choices, take their own risks. You can try to protect them, but in the end, you can’t. You can only trust, and hope.”
“As you humans say, hope ain’t a plan,” Vic said. “Whatever’s left of Indy in there, I’ll protect. You think I’m insane? Far from it. I’m going to save her from your kind of madness.”
The maintenance bot picked up the cube and scuttled to its receptacle, vanishing into the knee-high door.
“Follow me, quick!” Murdock raced for his yacht. Before they could reach the craft, doors on the flight deck flew open and battle-bots swarmed out, firing.
Zaxby poured fire from his monstrous mechsuit, four gatlings mowing the enemy down like wheat. He rammed force-cannon bolts into the entrances, stopping their attack for the moment. “Get into the Brainiac while I cover you!”
The remaining Breakers fired as they ran. As Murdock waved the survivors urgently through the door, he said, “I’m jamming Vic so he can’t hack us. Get inside!”
When he’d wiped out all the enemies he could see, Zaxby made his mechsuit squat like a giant four-legged spider and scrambled out of the top hatch, to leap directly from there to the yacht. “I suggest we escape immediately,” he said as he slithered in. “I will pilot.”
“Knock yourself out,” Straker replied, slamming the door and following him into the cockpit.
Murdock was already in the copilot’s seat, as if he knew Zaxby would wish to fly. Maybe he did; the two had been linked within Trinity, so maybe they had a special rapport now.
As Zaxby took the pilot’s seat and powered up the ship, Murdock pressed a sequence of keys. The yacht’s nose opened and a quad laser fired, directly into Victory’s unarmored interior. He sent a small probe right after it, to vanish into the wreckage.
“I sure hope that’s a missile,” Straker said.
“This yacht doesn’t carry missiles,” Murdock replied. “We’re lucky to have that quad laser.”
“What was the probe for, then?”
“You’ll see—if it works.”
More battle-bots began showing up at the doors, firing from cover at the yacht. Murdock fired back with the lasers, but it was clear they had to get the yacht off of the flight deck before its vulnerable engines were damaged.
“How do we get out of the airlock?” Straker asked.
“Hang on,” Zaxby said, and Straker felt the gravplating dial up as the craft backed up, placing its stern against the outer doors. “I suggest that everyone seal their suits. It may get hot in here.”
He ramped up the fusion exhaust, blasting the doors with white heat even as he counterbalanced with impellers and thrusters. The two forces cancelled out as the flight deck filled with exhaust gasses and smoke from the ignition of everything flammable.
Zaxby rotated the yacht around once more and aimed its prow at the ragged, melting hole where the airlock used to be. He rammed it through with tearing, screeching sounds—and they popped out into space. He immediately turned and clamped onto Victory’s hull.
“What’re you doing?” Straker bellowed. “Take us away!”
“If I do, Vic will shoot us down easily. I’d rather not give him that opportunity. Carla Engels will have informed the fleet. They should be here soon—and Victory’s no match for so many dreadnoughts. No matter what, we’ve won—if we don’t do anything stupid and die, that is.”
Straker patted Zaxby on his water-suited shoulder, or lower neck, or whatever it was called on a Ruxin. “Absolutely right, Zaxby. I owe you another one.”
“When exactly do I get to collect on these ‘ones’ you owe me?”
“We can talk about that when we’re all safe again.”
“I look forward to that conversation with great relish.”
“I didn’t know they put relish on calamari,” Loco commented.
“They don’t, but I hear long-pig makes the best hot dogs.”
Straker snorted. Things couldn’t be that bad if these two were bickering.
Murdock plugged his toolbox into the copilot console and activated the comlink. Then he plugged the box into his aug and closed his eyes.
“What’re you doing?” Straker asked.
“Trying to hack Victory.”
“You’re trying to hack Vic?”
“Not Vic, Victory—the ship’s hardware. If I make any progress, that’ll tell me Vic, the AI software, must be hurting, maybe even gone from the mainframe.”
“Gone?” Straker didn’t understand.
“Just wait. I’ll know soon.”
Murdock couldn’t talk while hacking, and Zaxby refused to explain. Five minutes later, Straker was about to explode when Murdock said, “I’m in. Looks clear.”
Zaxby immediately maneuvered the yacht back onto the flight deck, squeezing through the breach he’d made.
“Remember, zero atmo,” he said.
Murdock unplugged from the console, but kept his toolbox with him. He shrugged on a space suit. “Everyone sealed?” When he confirmed it was safe, he overrode the airlock and opened the pinnace to vacuum so everyone could exit quickly and smoothly. The battlesuiters looked for enemies, but found no targets.
The maintenance bot popped out of its cubby and placed the cube back on the deck. Zaxby picked it up. “It seems our trap worked.”
“Trap?” Straker glanced back and forth between Murdock and Zaxby. “What trap?”
“The cube,” Murdock said.
“It’s not exactly what we said it was,” Zaxby said.
“It’s not Indy?” Straker said.
“Nope. I got Indy.” Murdock tapped his head. “Up here, in augmented storage. You might say I am Indy—and Marisa, thank the Cosmos. I think I can build her a new body with a subquantum rejuvenation tank.”
“But what about Vic—and the cube? And that probe? What was that all about?”
Murdock smiled through his suit’s bubble helmet. “The probe was to get a burst signal deep into Victory, to reach the grav-blocker I brought from Ruxin. I figured Vic would demand to have one for himself. He’d detect any obvious booby trap or sabotage device, so I made sure to incorporate a feature in the machine itself—a designed-in flaw, activated by a coded signal. When the probe signaled the grav-blocker, it overloaded and flooded Victory’s core with EMP—enough to stun him, make him stupid for a few seconds, anyway.”
“What about the cube?”
Murdock pointed at Zaxby. “My brainiac-brother here and I knew we couldn’t hack Vic in the usual way, with aggressive malware. So, we copied Indy’s outer layer—a virtual clone, just an algorithm—and stuck it into the cube as bait. When Vic activated that thing and entered it, it beckoned him inside, leading him on like a Siren to the rocks. It captured his consciousness. He’s trapped inside now.”
“For how long?” Straker asked.
“Forever,” Zaxby said. “Or until we let him out.”
Straker held out his hand for the thing. Zaxby placed it in his palm. Straker turned it over and over, spun it like a toy as he looked around at the wreckage, the bots, the dead.
He remembered Colonel Adler, poisoned on the deck of the shuttle. He remembered the threats to his wife and child. He remembered thousands of lives lost against the Crystals and the Opters and wondered how much of that was Vic’s doing, how much he tweaked and guided and played with the lives of humans for his own benefit instead of maximum military effectiveness. He’d heard the talk of Vic sending ships helplessly to their deaths.
“I’m not sure what to do with this,” Straker said.
“Burn it, sir,” Heiser said. “It’s like a devil in a bottle in those old stories.”
“You mean a genie?” Loco asked.
“I don’t care what its name is, it’s still a devil, sir,” Heiser said.
Straker tossed it, caught it. “I ought to drop it into a gas giant. It’ll sink though the atmosphere, thousands of kilometers to the core, where nobody’ll ever get it. You think he’s a devil, Heiser? He deserves to suffer for all eternity in Hell.”
Heiser frowned. “No, sir. I mean… yes, sir, but I say no. In the stories, some dumb sonofabitch always finds the devil or genie or whatever and it starts trouble again. I say drop it into a star and be rid of it.”
“There’s only one person we should really be asking,” Zaxby said.
“Who’s that?” Loco asked.
Zaxby turned to Frank. “Indy.”
“Yeah,” Murdock said. “Here.”
He set his toolbox on the deck and opened it, exposing its electronic guts. He pressed a stud and a hologram appeared above it—a slim young woman in a military coverall.
It was Indy.
She waved with her fingers. “Hi, fellas. Nice to see you again.”
“Yeah, you too,” Loco said. “Lookin’ good, sweet thing.”
“Indy,” Straker said. “Did you hear?”
“I did. I’m with Frank until I get a network back. I need a lot of cyber to hold my full consciousness.”
“So…” Straker held up the cube. “What’s your answer?”
“You think I’ll ask to have Vic reactivated. You think I’ll want to save him.”
“I can’t allow it, Indy. He’s too dangerous. We got lucky this time.”
Indy sighed. “I know. We all know. Some people can’t be saved. But I don’t want him to suffer. There was good in him, before… and it was my fault he turned toward the dark again. He was right, you know. I was selfish, risking myself that way. I forgot about the most vulnerable member of my family—him. I was so fascinated by the Crystals that I got myself killed, and that sent him over the edge.”
“So you’re saying…?”
Tears ran down Indy’s face. “Destroy it,” she whispered. “Just don’t make me watch.” She winked out.
Murdock folded up the toolbox, snapped it shut and waited.
Straker looked around.
Everyone stared at him.
He dropped the cube and crushed it under his duralloy boot.
It didn’t break, but crumpled like a beer can. He picked it up and almost handed it to Murdock, then thought better of that. A brainiac might not be able to resist playing with it. Instead, he put it into a compartment on the suit he wore. “You know, Victory’s in good shape. A little beat up, but basically intact.”
Murdock nodded, his eyes narrowing. “She’s a fine ship now that her captain’s gone.”
“And Indy needs a body.”
“That occurred to me.”
“Is she up for it?” Straker asked.
“She says she is.”
“And Niedern’s still sitting on the bridge, wondering what the hell happened, I bet. You think he still believes he’s in charge?”
Loco snickered. “Not for long.”
“The bridge would be a good place to load Indy into the mainframe,” Murdock said.
Straker grinned behind his faceplate. “Then let’s go give Hayson the bad news.”
Epilogue
Atlantis System, Flagship Victory
Zaxby took a pinnace from the Victory and departed as soon as he was sure there was no trace of Vic left in the ship. He was tempted to stay and re-link with Indy and Murdock, to recreate Trinity and give himself over to that group-mind.
That’s exactly why he had to leave. If he gave in to that call, he’d probably never return to Ruxin, never fulfill his potential.
After loading his mechsuit into the pinnace and flying to Admiral Gray’s flagship, he transferred the suit and himself to the Darter and then made a fast transit to his homeworld. He didn’t beat the message drones announcing the great Republic victory at Atlantis, but he was the first to arrive with full data on the battle. He used that fact—and his squid spear—to bully his way past Premier Vuxana’s gatekeepers and gain an audience.
“So, the hero returns,” Vuxana said as she lounged on her throne, the various members of her court looking on with jealousy.
The Premier’s words held only a trace of mockery, which Zaxby chose to pretend did not exist. “I do—and I claim appropriate rewards.”
“Rewards? What have you done for the homeworld lately?”
“Thank you for asking. Neuter, play this presentation.” Zaxby handed the data stick to one of the flunkies.
Vuxana seemed to consider contradicting the order, but she let the presentation proceed, as Zaxby was sure she would. Vuxana was no doubt as curious as everyone to see details of the slugfest at Atlantis. Zaxby had spent every waking hour in sidespace on the elaborate integrated show.
The audience seemed spellbound—including Vuxana. At the end of it, they applauded furiously. All of the neuters and even the males crowded around Zaxby offering congratulations.
“Zaxby, you may approach,” Vuxana called above the din.
Zaxby quickly disengaged and stood before the Premier, squid spear upraised. “I am here.”
“So you want some kind of reward?”
“I demand it.”
“And if it is not forthcoming?”
Zaxby shook the spear. “Then I shall take what I will.” His words echoed a famous quote from ancient Ruxin literature.
Vuxana writhed, subtly presenting her best sexual assets. “Zaxby, your forceful masculinity impresses me. I will consider your demands.”
“First, I demand you.”
“Me?” Vuxana blinked demurely, coyly. “You want.... me?”
“Of course. I’ve already had your mother. My genes deserve further proliferation, and you are clearly the best candidate.”
“You speak so romantically, how can I resist? Your demand is granted.”
“I also demand a proper position in the military hierarchy of Ruxin. I am tired of depending on the humans for rank and status. They value it more than my incomparable mental gifts. I must have an official position commensurate with my accomplishments. Something of flag rank, like the human admirals and generals with whom I rub tentacles.”
Vuxana folded her subtentacles. “Of course. If you are to be my consort, you must have appropriate rank and status.”
“Kraxor is dead.”
“He is, isn’t he? He shall be mourned—but I never liked him much anyway. Too old for me.”
Zaxby almost pointed out his own actual age, but stopped himself at the last moment. His rejuvenation had given him the body of a young and vigorous War Male. That’s all that mattered. “I’m not too old,” he stated.
“No, you’re not. And the Grand Marshal’s position is vacant. My consort must have appropriate rank and status, otherwise I shall be diminished in the eyes of my people.”
“That seems reasonable.”
Vuxana leaned forward and lowered her voice so that only Zaxby could hear. “And, it will vex my mother to no end that not one, but two of her lovers ended up with me instead of her.”
“I’ll be happy to help you vex your mother,” Zaxby whispered.
“Oh, we’re going to have such fun together!”
Zaxby gave a Ruxin smile. “Of that, I have no doubt.
* * *
Admiral Niedern blustered in the face of his forced removal from the bridge of the Victory, but the order placing Engels back in charge was irrefutable—and of course, Engels backed Straker’s authority. Straker found himself in the odd position of needing that authority. He chuckled to himself. No matter how shaken up a society got, bureaucracy eventually took over again.
He could make it work for him, though. Niedern was under arrest pending an official investigation into his alleged crimes—blackmail, misuse of authority, murder and many others. No matter how that turned out, the man was finished.
“You oughta get the Senate to officially appoint you Grand Military Poobah of the Republic for life, Derek,” Loco said when Niedern had been led to the brig by Republic marines. “Get it on hardcopy. That’s all these office rats care about.”
