Final Assault bw-4 Page 19

  "What's so funny about going off to get sliced by some blades?" grumbled D'Trelna, returning to his post.

  "One of humanity's endearing traits, J'Quel," said L'Wrona, turning off the pickup. "We can laugh at our own end." A telltale beeped on his console.

  "Here we go," said the captain, and touched the commlink. "General address. Alert status three," he said, his voice booming through the hangar deck. "This is it. Third assault wave's going in."

  "Hardly a bold attack," said Admiral L'Guan, frowning at the screen. "They continue advancing as a single massive wave. Why not break out into separate units, some engaging our pathetic defense, others striking at K'Ronar?"

  "Their tactics indicate a fixed-response mindset," said Line.

  "One would expect a lack of imagination from machines," said L'Guan.

  "I would remind the Admiral that I am part machine," said Line.

  "Only part," said L'Guan. "The rest of you is five Imperial admirals, one security master and a chaplain."

  "My point, sir, is that there's a wide cognitive gap between a computer and an AI," said Line. "About as wide as the gap between you and a v'arx."

  "Surely the AIs could build a battleglobe as smart as themselves," protested L'Guan.

  "No doubt," said Line. "But what if the battleglobe decided it was smarter than the AIs?"

  "I see. Yes," he said. "So?"

  "So the tactics of the Fleet of the One now indicate that we face uncrewed battleglobes, receiving general orders from a central AI commander, but implementing them without further instruction and with unsurpassed dullness."

  "Kiss my mother," said L'Guan, his eyes widening.

  "Biog states your mother is dead, Admiral," said Line.

  L'Guan shook his head. 'An expression popular among cadets some years ago, Line. Why is all but a tiny part of that invasion armada uncrewed? And where is their command ship?"

  "No idea why they're uncrewed, Admiral. As for the command ship, where would you be if you were in command?"

  "The safest point, of course," said L'Guan, looking at the screen and the advancing Fleet. "Dead center."

  "I can suggest an attack pattern to make them open a path to their center, Admiral-if you want to play our hunch."

  "See what he's doing?" said Sutak, pointing to the projection.

  "Being destroyed piecemeal," said Orlac, standing beside the first leader's chair.

  Line's lead elements had attacked the AI Fleet's lead squadrons and been warded off by waves of missiles and a virtual wall of fusion fire. The lead squadrons scattered, pursuing Line's fleeing units.

  As the AIs watched, a fresh attack wave poured in, exchanged fire with the lead squadrons and broke off to either side, more battleglobes pursuing. The Fleet of the One's original solid phalanx was now just a round core with two elongated arms speeding away from it, the arms themselves fragmenting as single globes chased single enemy units.

  "He's opening a slot right toward us," said Sutak. "I think they've detected we're a little short of help." He turned from the projection. "Operations. Direct all pursuing squadrons to disengage and resume original formation."

  "I believe the first leader's order may be too late," said Larn. All but forgotten, the first cyberneticist hovered to the right of Sutak's station.

  The first leader turned back to the hologram and a new tactical projection: thirty-five blips were moving down the slot at close to light speed.

  "We can intercept with globes yellow seven alpha green one through four," said Orlac.

  "No." Sutak shook his head emphatically. "I'm not going to put four crewed ships at risk to save one just because our expensive hides are aboard. Have all crewed globes except this one scatter. We'll stand off this suicide run ourselves. Ten thousand shipbuster missiles and every fusion battery we can bring to bear against thirty-five small, lightly armed asteroids should end it. Give the order."

  "I just want to say, D'Trelna," said a familiar voice from the commodore's chairarm, "that if this doesn't work, these years with you have been an education."

  D'Trelna laughed. "Well, Mr. N'Trol, if it does work, I want you to know-I'll always remember you as the sardonic authority-hater who saved our asses a least a dozen times."

  "And I'll remember you as the fat man who saved more than just his ship a hundred times. Luck, Commodore."

  "Luck, Engineer."

  The circuit clicked off.

  "Incoming," said a machine voice-the voice of the computer guiding the asteroid in whose hollow belly Implacable nestled. "Incoming shipbusters," repeated the computer, voice sounding through the hangar deck. The waiting troopers threw themselves prone on the deck.

  "Shield frequency," said D'Trelna tensely, moving down into the navigator's chair.

  "Matched," said L'Wrona, fingers entering a series of numbers, then pushing the Execute. Outside, the shield blinked off, then on again, holding steady.

  "Let's hope it's still current," said the commodore.

  Before L'Wrona answered, the AI missiles exploded into Line's tiny attack force, destroying Implacable''s host.

  "Filters to max," said the first leader, hands shading his eyes. Even to AI eyes, the holographic projection was a single unbearable ball of red-orange flame.

  "Well done, sir," said Orlac as the fireball slowly dissippated. "All targets…" He stopped, staring.

  Long and silver, something burst from the flames, growing in size until it filled the projection.

  "L'Aal-class cruiser, K'Ronarin Fleet," said Operations quickly. "Heavily armed, carries up to two hundred crew. She'll break up against our shield."

  "If the shield frequencies Devastator carried are correct," said L'Wrona, watching the battleglobe grow to fill the scan, "then we have a chance."

  Thick red fusion beams lashed at Implacable, tearing at her shield as she closed on the battleglobe.

  "Here we go," said D'Trelna, gritting his teeth; he sent the cruiser ramming into the AI's shield, blue and red merging.

  There was a brief confusion of colors on the board, the scan breaking up into a tumbling kaleidoscope, then it cleared.

  "Gods of my fathers, through!" shouted D'Trelna. Hands dancing over the helm controls, he dropped the cruiser lower. Outside, the fusion fire raking the cruiser slackened then stopped as Implacable dropped below the cannons' minimum azimuth.

  Endless sensor and comm clusters, missiles and fusion batteries flashed by, massive gray and silent, as Implacable raced for the battleglobe's southern pole.

  "Brilliant," said Sutak, watching as Implacable flew unopposed across his command ship.

  "Enemy ship identified as Implacable," reported Orlac, turning from a complink. "Has figured prominently in all engagements with our contemporary recons into this universe. Defeated us at Terra Two unaided. Defeated us at D'Lin with some help."

  "Why isn't he bombarding us?" mused Sutak, watching the projection.

  "Perhaps," said Orlac, "he's going to invade us."

  The two AIs looked at each other. "Of course," said the first leader, eyes flashing. "That's just what he's going to do!" "But…"

  "Operations," said Sutak. "Do we have a probable on enemy ship's destination?"

  "Hangar green alpha one three," came the answer after a brief pause.

  "Where is that?" It was Larn. The first cyberneticist was an agitated red sphere, bobbing beside the first leader's station.

  Sutak pointed past Larn toward the command center's thick blast doors. "Through there, first right, second left. He's coming here-for us."

  "What are you doing about this? What are you doing about this?" shrieked the first cyberneticist.

  "Unless you leave now," said Sutak, "I'm sending every cyberneticist on this vessel into that hangar bay. If we're fortunate, they might mistake you for intelligent life." He turned to Orlac. "Ever see what a blaster hit does to a vacuum-sealed cyberball?"

  "It was dogmatic martinets like that who got us into this," said Orlac as Larn streaked for the door.
"A desperate plague fleet with no future.

  "Just what are your orders?" asked Orlac.

  Sutak shrugged. "They want me, I'm available. Security condition one-all blades to hangar bay green alpha one three. Advise security commander that I will coordinate the counterattack. Transfer command of the fleet to Hasi on our sister ship."

  Sutak stood, smiling. "You know, Orlac, I'm looking forward to meeting this cruiser commander who's given us such a hard time."

  28

  "Target penetrated." l'wrona's voice echoed through the cruiser's hangar deck. "Stand by for the go. Stand by for the go."

  "Positions!" cried N'Trol, leaping to his feet. "Let's go!"

  "Never thought to see you leading the charge," said S'Til as the troopers formed an assault line stretching the width of the air curtain.

  "Not something you'll see again," said N'Trol, stepping through the long line of troopers to take up position center front. "I've been in a few messy firefights, but nothing like this." He looked down the assault line, left, then right. Brown uniforms were intermingled with black, commandos with starship and ground personnel. What few officers and NCOs had survived were positioned along the line's front. All stood nervously gripping their rifles, waiting, staring through the blue shimmer of the atmosphere curtain. Outside, dark and diffuse, great inchoate shadows flickered across the curtain as Implacable sped into the battleglobe.

  "Don't you have a unit?" asked N'Trol.

  The commando officer shook her head. "No."

  "Fine," said the Heir. "You're now my aide and a full colonel. If we win, I'll make it permanent."

  "If we win," said S'Til, drawing her side-arm, "you'll make me a civilian-with colonel's pension. Deal?"

  N'Trol laughed. "Deal, S'Til," he said, drawing his own weapon.

  "I've seen it before, but it still impresses me," said D'Trelna.

  A great gray cavern, its deck lined with cruisers, interceptors and assault craft, the battleglobe's hangar facility could have held a thousand Implacable'^ and still looked empty.

  Implacable slipped silently past the AI ships, moving on her n-gravs toward the distant end of the cavern.

  "Access portal should be coming up," said L'Wrona, eyes shifting between the diagram on his complink and the forward view on the bridge screen. "They must know we're here -maybe it'll take them a few more minutes to pull a reaction force together."

  "Wrong," said D'Trelna.

  L'Wrona looked up as the commodore brought the slowed cruiser to a stop.

  Security blades were rushing into the hangar facility, forming an assault line in front of the open corridor leading to the battleglobe's heart.

  L'Wrona touched the commlink as Implacable settled on her landing struts. "Hostiles to the front, My Liege."

  "I see them," said N'Trol as the atmosphere curtain winked off. He raised his sidearm. "Forward!" he cried, leaping onto the battleglobe.

  "Where's Orlac?" demanded the first leader. "He's supposed to be coordinating the reserves." Sutak stood in flight control, looking down on the hangar through the armorglass wall. Outside, the humans were charging, an impossibly small number against the blades that swarmed toward them.

  "Dead," said the blade hovering beside Sutak, Security Commander Jnor. "Plague."

  Crisscrossing blaster fire, muffled explosions and screams-Sutak was only dimly aware of it. "This is all futile, then," he said. "If the virus is here, we're all dead-and so are they." He nodded toward the humans as they closed on the security blades.

  "What does the cross signify?" asked John, breaking the silence.

  Guan-Sharick turned from the weathered stone, her blue eyes distant. "It marks the resting place of a hope, Harrison-the hope that we could be better than we were, man and machine."

  "And which are you?" asked K'Raoda.

  "Neither and both," said the transmute. She squatted on the ground, studying a thin blade of grass. "I and a few others were the will and the spirit of this place-computer-generated simulacra is the closest term. And though the computer's long gone, we continued. When the original… owners… passed on, we became their stewards. We in turn created the AIs, our dutiful helpers." She rose, shaking her head. "You've seen the result."

  "You've all but destroyed two universes," said Zahava.

  "All but," said Guan-Sharick, and vanished, only to reappear a moment later, a flat white case in her hand. She gave it to Harrison, who took it uneasily. "Now what?" he asked, studying it. It bore the by now familiar pyramid on both sides, the uncanny blue eyes staring up at him.

  "The vaccine that will kill the plague. It's the only sample in existence. Like the plague, it's generic, protection for AI and man."

  "And how do we get it where it's needed?" said John. "We've no ship, no hope of getting off here."

  "I can send you to the deck of the AI command ship," said the blonde. "It's standing off K'Ronar with your K'Ronarin friends on board, desperately trying to take it."

  "How do you…" began K'Raoda.

  She held up her hand. "I can send you there now."

  "And you?" asked John.

  Guan-Sharick shook her head. "It will exhaust all of the special energy that maintains this planet and much of this sector. Some small part of that energy's used to maintain my existence. A price I pay gladly." She touched the case in John's hand. "Use that wisely." The cool green eyes looked into his for the last time. "Good-bye, John."

  The three humans vanished from the meadow. An instant later, Guan-Sharick, the meadow, the planet, its sun and six neighboring stars winked out of existence.

  The smoke from burning bodies and machines drifted over the charnel house of hangar green alpha one three: dead AIs and K'Ronarins lay sprawled along the deck, their twisted and shattered bodies mute testimony to a battle all but over. The human assault had met the AI counterassault a few hundred paces from Implacable. Outnumbered and outgunned, the attack had faltered, swept by blaster beams even as security blades knifed through soft flesh. The survivors now knelt among the burned and decapitated remains of their dead as the blades regrouped for the final assault.

  "Here they come," said S'Til, slipping home her last chargepak.

  Fresh blades were knifing through the smoke, moving toward the small knot of humans standing amid the blasted remains of their shattered assault.

  Of the original attack force, only eleven survived, among them N'Trol, S'Til, D'Trelna and L'Wrona, all of them wounded.

  "One last volley, gentlemen," said N'Trol, gamely shifting his Ml 1A to his good hand. "On my command." The others fell in beside him, waiting among their dead as death swept in.

  "Aim," said N'Trol, raising his sidearm.

  "H'Nar," said D'Trelna, taking careful aim at the lead blade, "finally a cheery word for you."

  "What?" said the margrave as the blades closed to fifty meters.

  "Volley…" cried N'Trol.

  "The war's over," said the commodore, squeezing the trigger.

  Three figures appeared between the blades and the humans. They looked around, confused for an instant, then one of them held a small white case high above his head.

  "Hold!" ordered Sutak, a familiar emblem catching his eye.

  The assault halted.

  "With me," said the first leader. "All of you."

  "They've stopped," said N'Trol disbeliev-ingly. He stood. "Is that

  …"

  "It sure is," said D'Trelna. "Let's go."

  L'Wrona and S'Til were already advancing, breaking into a run toward John, Zahava and K'Raoda, even as the AI force parted ranks, admitting two human forms and a large blue ball.

  The two sides met on either side of the human trio.

  "That's a medical kit," said Sutak, ignoring the others, eyes only on the white case in John's hand. "And I recognize the Founders' symbol." He hesitated. "Is it…"

  "It's the vaccine," said John, looking at both sides.

  "Vaccine?" said N'Trol. "What vaccine?"

  "The AIs are a p
lague fleet," said Zahava. "Fleeing from a disease they've brought with them-one to which we're susceptible. It's wiping out all life in their own universe."

  "You're running," said N'Trol, staring at Sutak.

  "Running from our own destruction," said the first leader. "Never quite fast enough, though." He held out his hand to John. "I'll take that."

  "No," said the Terran.

  "What's to prevent our taking it?" said Sutak.

  "Me," said N'Trol. The Heir's blaster was aimed casually at the medcase, only a meter away. "You're in command?" he asked, eyes meeting Sutak's.

  The other nodded. "Sutak. First leader since the plague took out our more senior commanders. And you?"

  "N'Trol. My situation's similar to yours."

  "N'Trol," said the AI commander, "my blades can kill you before you can pull that trigger."

  "And you're willing to risk the survival of your people on that?" said N'Trol. There was an almost perfect silence on the battlefield.

  Sutak's gaze shifted to the medkit, then back to the Heir. "No," he said softly. "I did not start this war, N'Trol."

  N'Trol shrugged. "But do you have the courage and the vision to end it, first leader?"

  "I am willing to talk about ending it," said the AI.

  "Truce?" asked N'Trol.

  "Truce," said Sutak after an instant's hesitation.

  "First leader!" protested several AIs.

  Sutak turned on his staff. "Truce, I said, and truce we will have. It should be apparent that we need each other. Security Commander, withdraw your forces. Med units to tend both human and AI casualties." He turned back to N'Trol. "Shall we talk?"

  29

  "Will they keep their word, though?" asked John.

  D'Trelna stood for a long moment, looking out from the Implacable's bridge toward the construction crews, toiling in the first light of day, rebuilding Prime Base.

  "What, to stay in Quadrant Blue Nine as our guests and not our foes?" he said, refilling the two Terrans' wine glasses. Except for a few techs performing minor repairs, the trio had the big bridge to themselves. "I think so," said the commodore. "Don't forget, we can make a variant of the plague virus to wipe them out anytime we want."