Star Carrier (Lost Colonies Trilogy Book 3) (14 page)

-23-

“Captain Sparhawk,” K-19 told me. “Aggression will not be tolerated.”

I let go of Vogel’s lab coat slowly. The nano-fabric of his collar unfolded itself and smoothed over.

“He’s fine,” I said to K-19. “This is all a misunderstanding.”

“Understood. We must continue our mission.”

Relieved, I opened my mouth to call out orders to them, but Director Vogel put his hand up to my lips and shook his head.

Watching in astonishment, I witnessed all three of the variants marching by through the double doors and up the ramps into the heart of CENTCOM.

“We’ll follow them,” Vogel said. “We’ll use your biometrics to get past the elevator doors. No one will notice us in the confusion.”

“We’re just letting them run loose?” I asked.

Down the hall ahead of us, I heard shouting begin. Two shots were fired from PAGs.

Director Vogel began to trot.

“Damn, damn, damn,” he said. “I didn’t think they’d get off a shot!”

“What have you done?” I demanded, grabbing him again and spinning him around. “This wasn’t supposed to happen! They’re killing the guards!”

“Did you really think they’d let my variants get all the way to Perez’s office without a direct assault being involved? Don’t be naïve, Captain!”

My jaw sagged. I had hoped… but maybe he was right. There was no way to sneak these things all the way down to the heart of CENTCOM. They’d be stopped along the way, and once they were, it would be done in force.

“Let go of me,” Vogel said, struggling. “They’ll get too far ahead.”

We rushed along in their bloody wake. Bodies were strewn about the place missing limbs in most cases. Some people merely huddled against walls, cowering. They’d been ignored by the variants.

“This is how Halsey lost his ship, isn’t it?” I demanded of Vogel, who was puffing now with exertion.

“I can only imagine,” he said. “Will you give me a hand?”

He was kneeling on the floor, sick from running in Earth’s high gravity. I paused and considered leaving him behind. He’d lied to me. His plan to get down into the War Room had been a fabrication.

“You can’t hope to control them without me,” he said, seeing the doubt in my eyes.

Reaching down, I hauled him up to his feet. He staggered into me, his muscles atrophied by too much time spent in a low-G environment.

“They’re programmed to drive a path between the loading docks and Admiral Perez’s office off the War Room,” he said in a gasping voice. “If they get stuck, we have to help them bypass security.”

Feeling like a traitor, I hustled Vogel along the corridor. He seemed to get heavier with every step.

At last, we made it to the elevators. Guardsmen lay in puddles of blood and snipped-off limbs. Most of the staffers were screeching and fleeing out the exits in every direction. Outside the windows in the quad, I saw an armed contingent of marines gathering. It was only a matter of time until they counterattacked in force.

The elevator we’d reached was designed for heavy freight. There had to be some way of getting large items down into the vaults below the CENTCOM building, and we’d found it.

My hesitation lasted less than a second. The marines would gun us down with the variants if they realized we were in league with them. That much was clear. It was one thing for these cyborgs to abuse a few stray guards with pistols. An organized platoon of marines with heavy weapons was something else entirely.

I touched my hand to the plate, and it flashed green. We entered, and the variants trooped in after us. It was a tight squeeze.

The elevator doors shut, but it didn’t start moving.

“They’ve locked it down,” I said. “It’s standard procedure. We’ll never get to our goal now. You struck too soon.”

Vogel wasn’t listening. He was hacking instead. After I’d entered a valid biometric input, he only had to bypass the lockdown, not the regular security.

After a few seconds, the elevator lurched into motion, heading down again.

He gave me a triumphant grin, but when the elevator began moving, the gathering troops outside took action. They opened fire targeting the heavy metal doors.

A hundred PAG bolts burned and sizzled on steel. The whole elevator shook, and a spot grew orange-white, throwing off sparks. A moment later, as we threw ourselves to the floor, another spot began to burn.

They must have thought they had us trapped in the elevator, but now that we were escaping them they’d decided to kill us while they could. They were burning their way through, but it was too late. We were already sliding out of reach.

The firing stopped, but then the lights went out. Emergency red illumination kicked in and the elevator took on aspects of a funhouse. The three variants, packed into a space large enough for a truck but still cramped by their standards, resembled artificial monstrosities assembled to terrify carnival-goers.

The ceiling of the elevator car began to take scattered strikes.

“They must have forced the outer doors open,” I said. “They’re firing down the shaft. The metal roof of the car probably isn’t thick enough to stop bolts from penetrating.”

The three variants conversed with insectile rapidity. I thought I heard a few squeaks and clicks, but that was all.

Suddenly, R-77 climbed on the backs of the others and reversed himself, clinging to the roof of the elevator car with steel hooks. As it hugged the roof of the elevator over us, I couldn’t help but notice the variant’s carapace was smeared with the blood of innocent men.

PAG bolts soon began to sizzle through. As the fusillade was targeting the center of the car’s roof, it burned through there first. It melted away in a shower of sparks, and the variant’s exposed belly was lashed with fire.

He was sacrificing himself to protect the rest of us. The realization came as a shock. I’d never thought of the variants as protective of one another, much less us.

At last, before the variant died and lost its grip on the roof of the car, the door dinged and opened.

The scene beyond was smoking and vacant. The lighting at least was back to normal—normal for CENTCOM, that is. A dull, yellow glow filled the chamber.

We rushed out into what we’d hoped would be safety, but more troops were waiting for us.

“Step aside, Captain Sparhawk!” shouted a commander in dress-blues. His pistol was out, and his look was determined.

“Put away your gun,” I told him. “You can’t stop the variants with that. They’ll cut off your arm.”

He bared his teeth. His sides heaved as he looked me over for a second.

“Captain… are you
with
these things? What’s going on?”

“CENTCOM has been infiltrated by the Stroj. Stand aside, Commander.”

He stared. Perhaps he took too long because K-19 began to stalk him. At last, he waved for his men to put down their weapons. They all complied.

Dropping the gun like it was hot to the touch, we were all pleased to see K-19 halt and switch targets. He was now fixated on the doors that led into the War Room.

When I drew even with the commander, he snaked out an arm and caught me by the collar.

“If it was anyone else, I would have shot you down,” he said to me. “Why are you marching with these monsters, sir?”

“Do you remember Admiral Cunningham?”

“The Stroj agent?”

“That’s right,” I told him, “she was operating right here, at CENTCOM.”

He shook his head slowly, not liking where I was going with this.

“But sir, we’ve got new procedures. A Stroj imposter could never make it down here again.”

I jerked a thumb in the direction of Vogel and his creations. “Well, that’s what I’m here to find out. If I’m wrong, you can court-martial me—or better yet, just execute me on the spot.”

“You better be right about this, Captain,” he said. “If it was anyone else…”

“I understand.”

We moved forward, and the variants scuttled behind us. We reached the security doors that led into the War Room. I turned to see if the commander would help.

I was shocked to see him sprawled out on the floor. All the others were sprawled with him. Most of them were dead, but a few crawled weakly, bleeding.

“I didn’t even hear a commotion—K-19, what did you do?” I demanded.

“I observed the enemy signaling to one another. Before they could act, I disarmed them.”

Staring, I could hardly believe my eyes. They were so fast, so accurate. The men had thought they could ambush us from behind, but they’d seriously underestimated their opponents.

Vogel stepped next to me. “You have a serious deficiency when it comes to knowing when you’re being lied to, don’t you?”

Unable to deny his words, I stepped up to the final door.

Together, we opened it.

-24-

Inside the War Room, two dozen staffers surrounded a half dozen high-level brass. They didn’t have sidearms. Someone had forbidden loaded weapons in the control center due to past incidents. Unfortunately for them, disarming the troops hadn’t made them any safer. We strode into the room unopposed.

Gasping, the officers fell back on all sides. One ran for the emergency exit on the far side, but Q-161 rushed forward and removed his left foot at the ankle. He fell, wailing, and the rest were cowed.

“Sparhawk!” boomed a familiar voice. “Have you lost your mind?”

It was Admiral Perez himself. I was glad he was here. That part of the plan had to rely on luck to succeed. He was highly ranked enough to make his own schedule. If he’d been late today or stepped out for an early lunch, our lightning strike would have gone differently.

“Admiral,” I said, walking toward him. “I’m sorry about this intrusion. I’m afraid there’s a traitor in our midst.”

“There certainly is, and his name is Sparhawk!”

“I can see how you might feel that way, but you must let me speak.”

“Why? If I don’t will you slice a limb off me using your robotic slaves?”

My face reddened slightly. I hadn’t known how things would go once we managed to penetrate Star Guard, but I’d hoped for an audience that would at least listen.

Taking a half-second to think about the situation, I came to a firm conclusion.

“You’re the one who I’m talking about, Admiral. You’re the enemy in our midst. I’ve dealt with your kind before.”

The officers swept their eyes toward Perez. He wasn’t popular, and they knew me. I could tell some of them at least had to be thinking I wouldn’t have pulled this mutinous stunt without good reason.

“Yes, you have dealt with admirals in the past,” Perez retorted. “You’ve bucked every officer in authority over you since you joined the service. You’re a disgrace, and I want you out of here right now! Report to the stockade. There will be a court marital, and I’ll wager it will be short and well attended.”

My eyes narrowed as I considered him. “You aren’t even curious about why I’m here, are you?” I asked. “You’re just trying to stall for troop support and to shut me up. That won’t work, Admiral.”

“No, I wouldn’t expect it to. You are a disgrace to the uniform. We should abolish the service of governmental heirs.”

He’d struck below the belt with that comment. I hated any mention of my parentage, especially when it was suggested it made me unfit for duty.

I took a step forward, and he brightened. That caused me to halt.

This was what he wanted, I realized. When I stopped coming, he snarled at me and a surprising thing happened.

He charged toward me. Scuttling forward faster than any human should have been able to, especially at his age, he climbed right over consoles, a railing and even a conference table in his desire to close with me.

The variants were vigilant. They slashed out with their odd, whip-like limbs.

Perez was stricken and thrown off his feet. He rolled, blood welling up from a dozen wounds. It looked as if he’d been beaten with a lash, but I’d only seen a few flashing touches.

Breathing in a gargling fashion on the floor, he waved back the staffers who bent close to help him.

“Captain Sparhawk,” said K-19. “I sense that the creature at our feet is still dangerous. It has an explosive device stashed inside its body cavity.”

The effect of K-19’s words was dramatic. A dozen sympathetic hands recoiled. Officers scrambled away in fear for their lives.

“Where is it?” I asked.

“In his lower section.”

“Rip it out.”

The order did not need to be repeated. People screeched as two snipping, multi-jointed hands reached forth and tore into Perez’s guts. Exposed, a bloody string of wired-together explosives hung over the deck.

“Dammit Sparhawk,” Perez rasped from the floor. “You’re a fool to the last. You shouldn’t have stopped me.”

I was almost amused. “I should have let you kill me?”

“I was trying to get to Vogel, not you. Fool.”

Those eyes
. They were still roving, still intelligent. They didn’t even look as if they had the glaze of shock in them. The Stroj were tough creatures indeed.

K-19 destroyed the bomb and moved after the officers who were trying to retreat.

“Let them go,” I said. “They don’t matter now. We have our monster. They all saw it. They know why I did this.”

Soon, the room emptied out. Only Director Vogel, Perez and the variants were left to keep me company.

Perez breathed with difficulty. He grimaced up at me with blood outlining each tooth in his mouth.

I knelt beside him. “Talk to me, Stroj,” I said. “Why do you want to kill Vogel so badly?”

“He unleashed these terrors on my people. He’s responsible for their creation.”

Glancing at Vogel, who looked disgusted but stayed quiet, I nodded. “He has a point, you know,” I told the Director.

“Nonsense. The variants just saved CENTCOM from this enemy agent.”

“Yes,” I admitted. “But they are also manning our ships out there, and there are reports they’ve gone rogue.”

“It’s true,” Perez rasped. “That’s why we had to move. That’s why I went for Vogel.”

Frowning, I shook my head in incomprehension.

“Think about it, Sparhawk,” Perez said. “Everyone says you’re a genius. It’s time to use that big brain of yours.”

“You wanted to kill Vogel, not me… You wanted to make sure he couldn’t make any more variants, or improve the ones he’s developed.”

“That’s right.”

“But why reveal yourself at all? Why not stand back and hope we’re arrested?”

“Once you showed up here, you tipped my hand. I had to support your theories. I had to demonstrate to everyone, publicly, that I’m a Stroj agent.”

Now he had my full attention. I sat beside him, making sure to keep beyond reach of his spit and his grasping, broken digits.

“You have me intrigued.”

“He’s playing you, Sparhawk,” Vogel said suddenly. “Next, he’ll claim I’m a Stroj.”

I glanced back at him. “Are you?”

“Certainly not!” Vogel exclaimed.

“He’s right, gargled Perez, sounding weaker. “Vogel is no Stroj. There’s no honor in him. No love for honest combat. He’s worse than any of my kind. He created his horrors to take over the cosmos. To kill all the humans he doesn’t like, Stroj and Basics both!”

Vogel chuckled. “I’m surprised you’re listening to this monster, Captain. It’s clear he’s desperate. His last tool is guile.”

Both men had good points, and I was left uncertain who to believe.

“If you had killed Vogel, what would your Stroj brothers have done next?” I asked.

“We’d have kept a low profile, as we always do. Earthmen have very short memories. Eventually your kind will go back to a place of danger after a few months, or years. We would have hidden in that group.”

“For what purpose?” I asked. “The Earth fleet won’t wait so long. They’ll sweep your people from the cosmos.”

The Stroj bared his teeth at me, but he didn’t answer.

“You’re dying anyway, man,” I told him. “Why not speak plainly? It might help your cause.”

“Impossible.”

“Are the Earth ships, crewed by variants, damaging your empire or not?”

“Of course they are. I’m sure you’re relishing the reports!”

That made me sit up straighter. “Reports? From the lost fleet?”

“Yes—and it’s not lost. We don’t know its exact position, but the fleet is dropping com-pods in every system when it exits a bridge. The variants have been maintaining protocols even after they mutinied. We’ve been picking them up and tracing their progress.”

This was news to me. I was intrigued.

“Tell me about it,” I asked Perez.

The Stroj’s eyes became cagey. “Will you nurse me back to health if I do?”

“Yes,” I said, “if I’m able.”

“He plots,” Vogel said suddenly. “He’s not dead yet, so he’s still churning up evil plans. Don’t listen to him, Sparhawk.”

“You…” spat the Stroj. “I should have known you wouldn’t want the truth to come out. To think you people call
us
monsters. These variants have no soul, and precious little individuality. We’re your enemies, certainly, but we’re not genocidal.”

“You’re not?” I asked. “You wouldn’t kill us all if you had the chance?”

“Of course not. You should know that by now, you of all Earthers. Where would the glory be in an enemy erased? We want dominance. We like the thrill of the hunt and the wriggling of our prey. How could we take trophies from people who’ve been turned to ash?”

“Is that what they’re doing?” I asked in a hushed voice. “Reducing worlds to ash? I’d hoped it wasn’t so.”

“You’ve been to the stars, you’ve met the colonists,” the Stroj said. “You’ve even befriended some of them.”

My eyes had been unfocussed, seeing my past voyages, but now I turned to him more fully. His face was gray now for lack of blood.

“You’re talking about my friend Zye. You remember her, don’t you?”

He rasped and his fingers fluttered. “Of course. We’re immune to your government’s purges of the mind and spirit.”

“Talk to me,” I said, reaching out to help staunch his wounds. “Vogel, get a medical kit.”

“He’s not worth saving, Sparhawk.”

“Get the kit. You have medical training. Save him.”

Shaking his head, Vogel did as I asked. Perez watched with interest.

“I want to kill that one. I still will if I get another chance.”

“He’s not to blame,” I said. “He may have invented the variants, but he doesn’t control them all.”

The Stroj looked at me curiously. “You claim it was the ones we call the ‘others’ then? It is the ones who edit your minds whenever it pleases them?”

I nodded. “It could be.”

“That does make sense. We might have a common cause, Sparhawk, you and I. Have you ever wondered why we keep coming back here?”

“To finish the job? To conquer us like the rest?”

“Partly, yes. But there’s more to it than that. We share an enemy here. The others are not like the rest of you. We suspect they are alien. They’re too cunning to be normal humans.”

I chuckled at that. “That’s where you’re wrong,” I said. “Basic humans can be the most cunning of them all.”

The Stroj stared at me as Vogel worked to save his life.

“You
know
them,” he said suddenly, with certainty. “You’ve met them! That’s how your mind remains intact. Are you claiming you’re one of that shadowy group? Are you one of the others, Sparhawk?”

“No,” I said, “I count them as enemies, just like you.”

A tongue darted out and vanished again. It was bluish in color.

“My fluids have left me. Give me a stylus.”

Frowning, I handed him one. He began to write on the floor with his unbroken hand. I watched, but of course, no symbols appeared. The stylus was connected electronically to my computer scroll.

Taking the scroll out of my pocket and unrolling it, I saw what he was writing. The symbols amounted to a series of numbers in sets of three.

“Coordinates?” I asked.

The Stroj didn’t answer. He didn’t even look up. He wrote with a fury.

While I puzzled over the digits, Vogel stood up and shook his head. His hands were slick with blood.

“I don’t completely understand his anatomy,” he said. “He’s lost too much fluid. He’s almost gone.”

The stylus trembled and then clattered onto the marble floor. I stared at the shivering corpse, then at the scroll.

“Director,” I said, “you did what you could—at least I think you did.”

He looked at me sharply. “What? Do you think I shoved the wrong kind of needle into him or something?”

I shrugged and rolled up the scroll, tucking it back into my pocket.

“Sorry,” I said, “I have issues with trust these days.”