Every now and then, every other cycle or so, the Hoon liked to tour the fleet. The easiest way to accomplish that was to choose two or three hundred of the more than twenty thousand surveillance devices at his disposal and spend a tenth of a second on each.
Though once routine, the excursions had been more rewarding of late, ever since the soft body had gone forth to "peach the gospel" - the essence of which seemed to consist of blocking thoroughfares, praising the supreme intelligence known as "God", and seeking "converts", which is to say semi autonomous units willing to listen to the human's rantings.The entire process seemed like a waste of time and resources except for one thing: interspersed with the nonsense regarding God was a good deal of anti Thraki rhetorics. And, like it or not, the Artificial Intelligence had no choice but to support sentients that shared the same mission it had which was to find Thraki and kill them.Still, the Hoon had encountered a co"Don't tell me, let me guess", Herbert said disgustedly. "You signed on".Jyro looked away. "No, not exactly"."But close".The human turned back. The tone was petulant. "So, what if I did? There was no other choice".The navigational computer would have sighed, had such a thing been possible. "I think the message is pretty clear: They found some Thraki, and the Hoon wants you to kill them"."Why me?" Jyro asked desperately. "The Hoon could kill them by himself"."It's a test", the Artificial Intelligence replied patiently, "to see what you will do".The better part of a minute passed while the human considered the matter. When he spoke, the words fell one at a time."So it's kill or be killed"."Essentially", Herbert replied."Unless..." Jyro said."Unless what?""Unless I could convert the Thraki, and convince the Hoon to accept them"."Dream on", the Artificial Intelligence said simply. "The Hoon is a computer, and
The stars seemed to snap into existence as Jose Fonseca-Three Hundred Forty six dropped hyper, switched his sensors to max, and scanned the surrounding volume of space. Something that he, plus all 876 of his "brothers" had done countless times before.In spite of the fact that the Clone Hegemony had joined the Confederacy at the conclusion of the second Dodvalian war, they continued to maintain their own military forces and placed little reliance on the Confederate Navy.That being the case, the clones conducted regular patrols along their section of the Galaxy - mostly to control smuggling, but to ensure their sovereignty as well.A beeper beeped, data scrolled onto the scout's screens, and the pilot felt his stomach lurch. The readings couldn't be true! Nobody had a fleet that large! Not even the Confederacy.Fonseca-Three Hundred Forty six ran the scans again, obtained the same results, and dumped them to memory. A swarm of fighters started in his direction. That was
"Then, when the Shem arrive, the aliens will help fight the machines. Who knows? It may be possible to use them as a protective shield. Later, at the conclusion of the conflict, we can either continue the partnership or, if circumstances warrant, turn and destroy them".Silence filled the chamber as the female took her seat. Sector 3's strategy was one of the most cynical, dishonest, and downright diabolical proposals the sectors had ever heard. Needless to say, they loved it.Sector 16 was the first to stomp his right foot, a sector 34 followed, and the rest joined in. After years of waiting, the Facers would have their day. Sector 3 looked triumphant. The Runners scowled. All eyes turned to Adrolopus.The warrior's mind flashed forward to the work that awaited him. He felt a great weariness settle onto his shoulders, and bowed his head. "This sectors have spoken... I will obey". * * * Jedidiah Jyro waited for the shuttle to settle o
Antonio, the doubter, remained with the fleet, ostensibly in case of treachery, but actually because he refused to participate and thereby endorse the meeting.There were rumors about Antonio, people who claimed that his genetic material had been obtained directly from one of his predecessor's backup copies rather than the Hegemony's DNA banks, as if that might account for his independent ways. A seemingly silly theory - since there shouldn't be any difference - but who could know for sure?Ishimoto-Seven watched with approval as the Thraki admiral entered the compartment, closely followed by an entourage of officers, priests, and a contingent who, in spite of the title "Sector", sounded suspiciously like the sort of politicians the diplomat was used to.The two parties merged, exchanged greetings, and were herded in the direction of the Bullet's wardroom - the only space other than the hanger deck that could accommodate such a large group. The Thraki spoke via
The statue of Christ the Redeemer still stood over the way ravaged city of Rio de Janeiro, but little else looked the same. Great swaths of the once attractive downtown area had been destroyed pro to when the Navy retook the skies. Now, having been victimized by repeated submarine launched missile attacks, the city lay in ruins.The government tower lay where it had fallen, crushing hundreds of lesser structures, pointing toward Guanabara Bay. Sugar Loaf stood as it had been for countless millennia, but the cable cars that carried people to the top lay crumpled where they had fallen, as did a row of three transmission towers.Thousands of dispossessed citizens lived in the enormous soccer stadium, while an equal number camped in the streets. The citizens of Rio had paid a high price for their freedom and refused to let it go.Farther toward the south, beyond the limits of the old city, the latest incarnation of the Hotel Intercontinental still stood, blackened by the effect
The military preparations were going well - perhaps too well, unless her uncle made some progress pretty soon. She, along with Kairo and Cummings, could hold the coalition together for a while, but they wouldn't wait forever.Something appeared up ahead. Sophie struggled to see what it was. A table? Someone sitting where the ocean met the beach? What in the world?Curious, the executive continued her stroll. As the distance closed, Sophie confirmed her initial impression and saw that a man sat with his back to her. He stood and turned. It was first time she had seen Marco in civilian clothes. He wore a short sleeved black shirt, white trousers, and no shoes. He smiled and offered a flourish. The table was covered with crisp linen, gleaming silver, and some of the hotel's best dinnerware. Coolers were stacked in the background. "Good evening, ma'am. Your table awaits. We have cold shrimps, a crisp garden salad, and a nice white wine. Madam approves?"Sophie laughed. "W
Grand Admiral Googoo Isan Adrolopus stepped out onto his private gallery and looked up through the carefully tended gardens to the transparent dome beyond.The planet called Zynig-43 hung there like a blue green gem, beckoning the Thraki home.Scouts had landed six ship cycles before, and were quickly followed by four teams of scientists, all of whom arrived at the same conclusion: The humans had been truthful.The atmosphere was clean, some of the natural resources had been exploited by previous inhabitants, but plenty remained. The arks had assumed orbits that would allow them to function as fortified moons. Yes, their presence would result in tidal action down on the planet's surface, but so what? The indigenous life forms were not likely to be of much value anyway.Though previously inhabited by scientists known as the N'awatha, the planet had fallen to another race called the Dodvalians, who, though subjugated by a multisystem government called the C
The Dodvalian knew that the question was a matter of form and shook his head. "No, but thank you for asking. May I be blunt?""Please", Doug Douglas replied fervently. "You can't imagine how good that sounds. Tell me something - anything - so long at its true".No wonder it was this human who beat us, Xian Karrh thought to himself. He thinks as we do."It shall be as you suggest", the Dodvalian said out loud."A cabal consisting of certain humans, the Clone Hegemony, and the Midvalians are working to weaken the Confederacy, circumvent its powers, and confiscate worlds under its protection. Earth was first... others will follow. Some belong to the Dodvalian people".Doug Douglas sat bolt upright. "Can you prove that?""Yes", the Dodvalian said grimly. "I certainly can".It took the better part of two hours to review the data that the Dodvalian had intercepted and decide what to do with it. When Xian Karrh left, Do
Doug Douglas, already stunned by the magnitude of what was almost certainly coming their way, felt a terrible sense of hopelessness as the Thraki politician described how her race planned to sacrifice the Confederacy forces to the Shem and then, if convenient, turn and destroy them.But only if they fell for it. It was the Sector's hope that once the Confederacy knew about the Shem, they would force the Armada to resume its nomadic ways - something that would make Sector 14 and the rest of her party very happy.Doug Douglas listened, nodded, and asked the obvious question. "It's my understanding that you have approximately five thousand ships, all under Facer control. In addition to that, your race fortified one of our planets. How would we force the Armada to leave?"The Thraki hoped there would be a way, but wasn't sure what it would be.The human looked at the Dodvalian. Understanding jumped the gap. Nothing was safe. Everything was at risk. Death roamed the stars, an
Marcus Doug Douglas stepped out of his cabin, paused to ensure that the hatch was locked, and stepped into traffic. It was brisk and carried him along.Earth, and the restoration of a legal government, were yesterday's news aboard the Unioncity, where most sentients were focused on both the problem and opportunities posed by the newly arrived Thraki.Many of the passersby recognized Doug Douglas and said hello. His elevation from historical curiosity cum lobbyist to planetary governor had raised his status from the C list to the B list, which he shared with other notable but nonvoting politicos.There was a stir ahead, and traffic parted to allow someone through. Doug Douglas spotted a Midvalian war drone and knew who would follow.Senator Vaano, along with Ambassador Ishimoto-Seven and Sensor Ishimoto-Six, had spent less than an hour in custody prior to being released on their own recognizance.Then, in the wake of vaguely worded apologies from their respec
Usmos bit his lip. Luton had no reason to help, but who could tell? The asshole was an idealist and capable of damned near anything. A positive approach seemed best. "Luton! Thank God. Where are we headed?""To Los Angeles", Luton replied calmly, gazing out the window. "To turn ourselves in"."Turn ourselves in?" Usmos asked incredulously. "Why would we do that? I own a ship. She's small but fast. We can break out, make a run for the galaxy, and live like kings. I have friends out there, lots of them, and we can start over. What do you say?""I say no", Luton answered laconically. "There are rules. We broke them. We have to pay. It's as simple as that"."No!" Usmos shouted. "I won't go!""Really?" Luton inquired. "I think you will. Now shut up. I'm tired".The following minutes seemed to last an eternity, from Usmos' perspective anyway, as the fly form flew toward the sun. Plans stuttered through his brain, dozens of
That was the moment when Shola managed to reestablish contact, ceased partial control of Quinn's mind, and squeezed with all her might.The executive screamed, grabbed his head, and staggered backward. Shola felt the connection snap, sent a warning to Sophie, and tried to recover.Sophie "heard" Shola's voice, rammed her hand into the briefcase, and felt for the hand gun.Quinn threw himself onto her back, felt Sophie collapse, and experienced a sense of triumph. She was his! The bitch was his!The 9mm spilled out onto the floor. Sophie grabbed it and tried to turn. Quinn straddled her, tried for the weapon, and felt the alien counter his efforts.It was then, as Quinn fought for control, that Sophie rolled onto her back. She remembered how he had leered from the bottom of the tanklike cell, the way the water had risen around her shoulders, and squeezed the trigger.The gunshot was loud, louder than Sophie had expecte
Goya gritted teeth he no longer had, demanded full military power from the remaining engine, and chose the only possible crash site - smack dab in the center of the enemy complex. A tower whipped by, tracers up past his nose camera, and the ground rushed to meet him. Goya barely had time to yell "Five to dirt!" before his skids hit, absorbed some of the impact, and failed.The quad took the punishment after that, skidding fifty yards on her armored belly before the fly form hit the side of a building and finally came to a rest.The quad, a cyborg named Oluchi, knew things were bad. Rather than land where they were supposed to, a mile short of the complex, Goya had dumped them right in the middle of the damned thing! It was time to move, and move fast.Oluchi triggered the two way clamps, or tried to, but found they were stuck. No problem - explosive charges had been provided to deal with that very possibility. She "felt" the fly form shudder as 20mm cannon shells pounded th
Never mind the fact that Marco planned to drop in on Luton unannounced - and probably get himself killed. She was supposed to wait till the danger had passed. Why? Because business was a secondary concern - a perception that showed how little he knew. It was money that made the world go round, and, assuming the counter revolution was successful, the economy would be critical. Without commerce there would be no jobs, and without jobs there would be no taxes, and without taxes there would be no government services. Serious issues that couldn't be handled while sitting on her can.A tone sounded, the elevator doors slid open, and a pair of security guards appeared. They wore burgundy jackets, gray slacks, and thick soled shoes. The Zuon logo was embroidered on their pockets. The larger of the two stopped in front of the receptionist, listened to what it said, and turned to stare.Damn! Why couldn't they have been just a little bit slower? The executive opened her briefcase, p
Staff Sergeant Vista shouted, "Ten-hut!" Thousands of legionnaires crashed to attention, and Marco did likewise.Luton's voice boomed through the cavern's PA system. "At ease. We are gathered here to welcome a new commanding officer. Colonel Dooley Marco".An audible gasp was heard, servos whined, and Staff Sergeant Ward bellowed into the mike. "You are at ease! No talking. Corporal, take that soldier's name!"Nobody could tell who the sergeant had yelled at, and it didn't matter. What mattered was discipline, and it was intact.Luton continued, and as he spoke, Marco realized the comments were prerecorded. "Some of you are angry. You were betrayed by society, by the Independent Government, and now by me."Not because I doubt our ability to win, or the quality of our cause, but because we were wrong. If the a Legion is to be our country, it must be a just country, based on the rule of law and dedicated to more than its own survival".Luton paused, his v
Kenny sent a swarm of fly cameras to cover the event and ran it live. Citizens not only saw the video, but made their way to the express way, and lined both sides. Frantic parents responded as well. Many walked beside the road, or tried to, since abutments, on-ramps, and other obstacles made it difficult to do so.Others climbed the fences and ran out onto the express way itself. The militia had been waiting for that. An aircar swept in from the east, braked, and hovered above. Machine guns rattled, the civilians fell like wheat before a scythe, and blood stained the road.Children screamed, batons crackled, and the march continued.* * *Leshi Quinn stood at the center of the pit. The spotlights pinned him in place. The meeting had been called by old man Zuon. "... And so", the industrialist continued, "not only have we failed to see much return from this arrangement, our expenses continue to soar. Please explain".Quinn was standing there, wondering wh
Something, Huvy wasn't sure what, was definitely wrong. But before he could turn the car around, a heavily visored military police man waved the educator over and motioned him out of the car. That was when the nightmare began.The militiaman, a human in this case, examined Huvy's ID, checked his name off a list, and led him onto the school's grounds. A group of smooth faced robots stepped out of the way, and that's when the principal saw the fifty foot lengths of chain, the small ankle bracelets, and realized who they had been made for. The military policeman gestured to the shackles. The tone was casual, as if a matter of routine curiosity. "How many children can we actually expect? About five hundred or so?"Huvy started to answer, thought better of it, and closed his mouth.That's when the military policeman stepped in close, grabbed the front of the educator's shirt, and jerked the smaller man up onto his toes. "Listen, you little shit... which would you prefer? To answ