The Negator, page 3
“And if we do not?” Axion asked.
“I will destroy your vessel.”
“Don’t you desire to know the reason why we’re here?” Axion asked.
“I am not interested in whys,” came the reply. “I am solely interested in stopping you and following my directives.”
“No, you are going to change your mind in a moment,” Axion said.
“I will not change my mind. That is a certainty of directive programming.”
Then Axion started singing.
It was in High Polarion, but not the musical version I’d heard before. This was harsh and grating, like fingernails on a steel chalkboard. Each word felt like a command that bypassed normal thought and went straight to something deeper. The translation system couldn’t handle it—instead of verbal English, I saw flashing red warning lights on my eyeballs.
Axion kept up his awful song, and the pulsating cubes on the comm screen started flickering. Then, incredibly, the cubes collapsed into nothing.
If you can believe it, the enemy ship started powering down.
“What did you tell it?” I asked.
“What?” Axion said. “You were listening to that?”
“Of course I was listening! You shut it down. How were you able to do that?”
“That wasn’t what I was trying to do,” Axion said. “I gave it orders to attack the other ship. Instead, it has shut down. It has thwarted my command.”
I raised my eyebrows.
“This is unconscionable,” Axion said. “I do not understand…”
He went quiet.
I was frowning, wondering why he didn’t shut down the other warship.
“Do you not have a task to perform?” he asked me.
I concentrated on our acceleration, pushing us toward the outer edge of the quarantine fleet. There were ninety-seven ships, just as Axion had counted. Even as the Valor shut down, the other kept coming after us. A second one was powering up. Maybe there was some kind of protocol to always keep two active ships chasing a trespasser.
More plasma bolts started flying at us from long range. They were easy enough to dodge at this distance, but the enemy ship had bigger, more powerful engines than the Theron. It was gaining on us.
The Theron’s pulse cannons weren’t going to do squat against this monster. The warship was built for fighting. We were a scout ship, and it was beating us at the one thing we were supposed to be good at—speed and maneuverability.
“Axion,” I said, “can you shut that one down too?”
He gave me a look.
It was strange. People always thought that AIs, robots and androids couldn’t mimic or have emotions. It was supposed to be their weak point. Whether Axion had true emotions like a human, I don’t know, but he sure could mimic them. The look he gave me—
I shut my pie hole and focused on flying.
-6-
As I sat there considering what had just happened—Axion shutting down one of the enemy vessels but two still following us—I remembered what I had been thinking before the interruption to my thoughts.
Instead of talking about it—to myself—I thought about it. And because I thought about it with my hands pressed against the neural interface plates, I began to push certain functions of the ship.
Oh man, I so badly needed the ship’s AI to help me augment the little bit I understood. But what I did by hook or by crook was to access Alina’s medical bed.
I saw that her condition was far better than I had imagined. Taking a chance, I began to inject drugs into her through her connection to one of the med boards, adding stimulants to overcome the yellow solution that one of Axion’s androids had put into her earlier. That had been a deep suppressant.
As the scout ship raced toward the third planet with these two massive warships following and building up velocity, Alina came back to her senses.
Careful, I said, using my mind to inject the thoughts directly into hers.
What is this? What is happening to me? Her thoughts were powerful, frightened, and warm. Even though there was an alien hint to them, like a reptilian monster screwed into her soul.
Kane, she said, what is happening?
I explained all that had happened to render her unconscious, what had taken place on the Ick prison ship, Dreadstar, and how the Ick, those weird insectile aliens, had operated on her.
Oh, she winced, and I could feel terror, horror, as well as a hidden strength in Alina.
I filled her in on what had happened after the Dreadstar, including the hijacking that took place in the Antares System.
How interesting, she said.
Look, Alina you must know more about computers than I do, right?
With a certainty, she said.
Can you shut down Axion’s androids and then attack him with a computer worm or virus?
That is an excellent idea, Alina said. Let me think. Ah, I would need the ship’s AI to help me.
That’s a problem, I said. Axion has shut down the AI.
Let me see what I can do about that.
Through the interface plates, I could feel Alina’s Wi-Fi-like connection to the ship. It became almost instantly apparent that she knew more about this than I did. Right, she must be a hacker extraordinary. She clearly possessed the powers of a Mindship, and they were the best hacker aliens that I’d ever met.
Of course, I didn’t know too many aliens so that didn’t make it such a great boast. But I could see her boring through firewalls and bypassing blocks in a computer sense. What she was doing wasn’t totally clear to me, and it made my brain throb even more.
I think I can help you there, Alina told me.
She was doing all this from her location in the med chamber beside Gorrax.
I can’t do anything for him yet, Alina said. You’ll have to trust me on that.
I do, I said. I do trust you.
Then she powered up the AI of the Theron. How she masked that from Axion at the bridge console, I don’t know. But I realized her hacker abilities were good indeed. I did wonder if I was exchanging one threat for a different one. Would Alina take over my ship?
I believe I kept that thought hidden, as she didn’t respond to it.
At this point, I began to receive subtle help from the ship’s AI. With the help, I increased thrust. That matched the accelerating warships of the Eleventh Batmarsh Quarantine Fleet.
“Excellent,” Axion said. “I knew if you did this long enough you would be able to figure it out. You are suboptimal, Kane. There is no getting around that. But you have some Polarion instincts, and you are a stubborn SOB, are you not?”
I grunted in acknowledgement, deciding to throw him a bone, to try to keep him off my trail. I couldn’t believe I’d gotten as far as I had in awakening Alina.
Then self-doubt grew. Was this a trick by Axion? He was a trickster, and he was, in the end, much smarter than me, and knew much more about this universe than I did, that’s for sure. Maybe my rage was helping me in this. I don’t know.
I concentrated, and saw that the two enemy ships had started to accelerate even more. Once again, they started to inch toward us.
I had to think of something. We had to stop the two vessels, or they were going to destroy us, scattering our atoms across this little star system.
The problem was, I had no idea how to get out of this.
-7-
One of the pursuing warships surged forward, its engines burning brighter than before. Through the neural interface, I could feel its massive bulk eating up the distance between us like a hungry predator closing on wounded prey.
“Unknown vessel,” the ship’s AI crackled over the comm. “This is your final warning. Reduce velocity and prepare for boarding.”
Axion started speaking in High Polarion again—those harsh, commanding syllables that had shut down the first ship.
Nothing happened this time.
“How quaint,” the pursuing ship said. “Your command codes are noted and rejected. This unit has been hardened against external override protocols.”
Axion muttered under his breath, angry.
Ports opened on the warship as it launched four projectiles.
I used sensors to analyze. They weren’t plasma bolts. They were drones that accelerated with terrifying speed. Ah, they had warheads designed to detonate when close enough to do maximum damage.
“Kane,” Axion said, “Destroy them.”
I brought the pulse cannons online, feeling their targeting systems sync with the neural interface. The drones were coming in fast, but not faster than I could track. The first one was leading the pack, maybe two seconds ahead of the others.
I lined up the shot and fired.
The pulse cannon’s energy clots caught the lead drone’s center mass. It exploded in a brilliant flash, debris spinning away in all directions. Some of the larger chunks slammed into the second drone, damaging it and sending it tumbling off course.
The third drone tried to adjust its trajectory to avoid the wreckage. That gave me the opening I needed. Another pulse-cannon shot caused another explosion.
The damaged second drone was still coming, wobbling but functional. I rotated the Theron, bringing it into a better firing angle, and put the drone out of its misery with a precise shot to its propulsion system.
The fourth drone was the trickiest one. It must have learned from watching its companions die, weaving through space in an unpredictable pattern. I had to lead it, anticipating where it would be instead of where it was.
The pulse-cannon clots caught it just as it tried to juke left. The explosion was close enough that I felt the Theron shudder from the shock wave, but we were still in one piece.
“Nicely done,” Axion said, though he didn’t sound particularly impressed.
The lead pursuing warship kept firing plasma bolts, but at this range, they were still easy enough to dodge. Each bolt looked like a miniature sun streaking through space, but they all passed harmlessly by.
“Ah,” Axion said, “I have finally remembered.” He started speaking in High Polarion again, but this time it was different. Instead of harsh commands, these were melodious codes—almost like singing. The words flowed like music, building to something that felt important. Then, at the very end, there was a single harsh note that seemed to cut through space.
“Accelerate,” Axion said. “Accelerate for all you’re worth.”
I pushed it to maximum, feeling the Theron’s AI secretly helping me manage the inertial dampeners. The scout ship leaped forward, pulling away from the pursuing warship.
I must have been concentrating on the acceleration, because I didn’t notice it right away. The alien warship was going critical. Energy readings were spiking all across its hull, systems overloading in cascade failures.
Suddenly, there was a flash brighter than the local dwarf star. The warship detonated in a massive explosion.
When the sensors cleared, there was nothing left but an expanding cloud of superheated gas and debris.
“What the hell?” I said. “You talked it into self-destructing.”
“It believed we were boarding it,” Axion said. “But the other one has hardened against our communications. It will not speak to us. Thus, I cannot destroy it the same way.”
Through the sensors, I could see the remaining warship still pursuing us, its weapons charging.
“We have to defeat it the regular way,” Axion said.
“How are we going to do that?” I said.
“Yes,” Axion said. “That is the question.”
The last warship was still out there, and it wasn’t going to be fooled by words or songs. This one was going to require a kinetic solution.
-8-
The last viable warship from the Batmarsh Eleventh Quarantine Fleet was gaining on us even as we sped toward the third planet. Through the neural interface, I could feel its massive bulk getting closer.
“We’re screwed,” I said, watching the distance markers tick down. “Maybe we should try to use the Manifold Drive to escape from the star system.”
“No,” Axion said, “we are too close to the third planet and its gravitational interference. The drive won’t work this deep in a gravity well.”
“Then we should alter course and race away from the planet,” I said.
“No. We are going to reach the third planet. We are going to find the great weapon to slay my brother. It is here. I am certain of it.”
I stared at him. “Okay, then what do we do with the warship? I can’t dodge the plasma bolts forever. It’s going to be in range soon for its tractor beams or laser cannons, whatever else it has. I don’t think we have the firepower to destroy it.”
“Not in a military one-on-one fight,” Axion said. “But we can and will destroy it.”
“Care to tell me how?”
He looked at me.
“Did you bring some special extra weapon maybe?” I asked.
“I did. But not as you conceive of them,” Axion said. “Attend me and watch, Kane Hunter.”
Axion tried to contact the other ship. Of course, it wasn’t going to open channels because it had seen the other ship self-destruct from Axion’s High Polarion commands. But through the language program that was running, I could hear what he was saying.
“I am going to slow down so you may overtake us,” Axion announced. “I am powering down my weapons.” He pointed at me as he said that.
I knew what he wanted and powered down the pulse cannons, but kept them on standby.
“What are you doing?” Axion asked.
“What do you mean?”
“With the pulse cannons,” he said.
“I’ve got it set so I can power them up pronto,” I said.
Axion shook his head and made a cutting motion with a hand. “Shut them down. Make it so it’s a cold start. That’s a command. I want the cannons fully offline so the warship can sense that.”
“Yeah, but—”
“Do it,” Axion said. “I am the commander of this ship. You will obey me now.”
I did, muttering under my breath while taking everything offline. A cold start would take time to get the weapons back up again. I had no idea what Axion was planning, and he sure wasn’t telling me.
With my hands on the interface plates, I checked the other systems while staying in contact with Alina through the neural link.
Do you know what he’s doing? I asked her.
No. I have a suspicion, though. Do exactly as he says, Kane. Make no more pushes against his orders. We must have him believe that you are cowed and will do exactly what he wants. In fact, I’m shutting down Theron’s AI again.
Why? I asked, suspicion creeping into my thoughts.
Don’t worry, Kane, Alina told me. I’m not planting hidden codes throughout the ship. Well, I am planting a few, but those are only against Axion. It’s your ship. I’m going to help so you can take command of our vessel again.
Our vessel? I asked.
Yours, Alina said. But I am part of your crew, am I not?
You sure are.
The ship’s AI shut down, and I found it harder to keep everything together. I slowed us down, and Axion noticed.
“What’s happening?” he asked. “What’s going on?”
“My mind,” I said. “I’m beat. Do you think you can take over?”
“Not yet,” he said, pointing at me. “We must do this perfectly. Do you understand?”
“No, but I’ll do what you say.”
“That is wise,” Axion said. “Yes, it is wise for such a simian fool like you. Now watch and learn.”
As I sat at the controls, not feigning the headache because I already had one—it was like doing push-ups over and over after I’d already reached my limit—I waited for further commands.
“Slow us down more,” Axion said.
Now, it wasn’t precise to say we slowed down. What happened was that we didn’t accelerate as much as before.
Soon he said, “Cut all acceleration.”
I did. We still had forward momentum, but that was all it was—momentum.
The massive alien ship caught up soon after that. Then my stomach lurched as I felt tractor beams latch onto our ship and start pulling us toward opening bay doors. The thing was so big it could easily hold our ship.
“Now,” Axion said.
I looked around the bridge, but couldn’t tell what he meant. Then I looked out the viewport.
Two of Axion’s androids were moving in space outside our ship. They must have jumped from the Theron’s hull, and each of them held something huge and bulky in their silver android arms. They sailed toward the open hangar bay.
“Get ready,” Axion told me.
I slapped both hands down onto the interface plates.
“Turn on the spatial displacement field you used to cut off the tractor beams from the Dreadstar,” Axion said.
I did, shearing off the tractor beams.
“Accelerate us away from here,” he said.
I punched it as the displacement field shimmered around our hull. The thrusters came back online, and we pulled away hard.
The two androids sailed into the hangar bay, and then two antimatter explosions detonated in the guts of the enemy vessel. It began to blow apart from secondary explosions, with the first antimatter blasts tearing through its hull.
Whether the enemy AI had time to curse Axion for being such a backstabbing prick, I have no idea.
Farther away, where the Batmarsh Eleventh Quarantine Fleet was stationed, I saw two other ships beginning to power up. Then a third did as well. They must have recognized that two weren’t enough. Now they were going to come at us with three.
That meant Axion had given us a reprieve, nothing more.
Pieces of debris started crashing against our force field. I increased all power to the shields, and they held—barely. One generator went offline because it burned out, though.
I told Axion about that, and he nodded.
“That was a clever move,” I said.
“Do you think so? Do you approve of my move?”
“I’m glad we’re free,” I said.
“Yes, and I have two less androids to force all of you to obey me. Is that not so?”
