But, no matter how emotionally satisfying such a course of action might be, the officer knew he couldn't do it alone. He struggled to keep his voice even.
"I recommend that we increase our counterinsurgency efforts, put more resources into psychological operations, and attack the Confederacy where it is weak". Sandral raised a carefully shaped eyebrow. "And where, please tell, it's that?" "In the Senate", the officer replied bleakly. "Everyone knows that President Rackoon would send a peace keeping force if he had the support. Thanks to our allies, he doesn't. But for how long? What if Marcus Doug Douglas decides to renter politics? He could be more dangerous than a brigade of legionnaires". Governor Sandral felt a sudden surge of interest. "So, what would you suggest?" Luton shrugged uncommittally. "You like politics, go where you can do the most good". Sandral felt her pulse raise. Yes! She loved the senate. A placeThe Shem ships dropped out of hyper and swam through the darkness of space. There were planets, six of them, all worthy of investigation. Scouts were dispatched, probes were launched, and samples were taken.The Hoon was busy, very busy, but nowhere near capacity. The Artificial Intelligence had time to make backup copies of itself, plunder the newly discovered star system, and run the fleet, all without missing a beat.The AI also reserved some of it's processing capacity for small, unexpected anomalies, especially those that were interesting and potentially dangerous.This one took the form of a request for information from a unit that didn't need it - a highly unusual occurrence that set off alarms.Curious as to why a machine would do something like that, the Hoon assigned a tiny fraction of itself to the investigation and waited to see what would happen. The first question the robot wanted an answer to was rather basic. "Who created t
By rigging a pack for Alpha, and carrying one on his back as well, the human brought thirty days of rations. The outward bound leg of the trip took four.Once there, Jyro ignored the planet itself, which amounted to little more than a giant slush ball, and ordered the shuttle to keep on going.There was a moment of excitement when the ship headed out into the darkness of space, but his hopes were dashed when the shuttle circled and headed back.The human yelled, pleaded, and argued, all to no avail. While the Hoon didn't care about Jyro, it did value the spaceship, and saw no reason to part with it.The prospector was on a leash, a rather long leash, but a leash nevertheless. * * * Because Herbert was self aware, it lacked the means to shut itself down, and had no choice but to endure the long, non-productive wait. The situation was made more frustrating by the fact that humans had programmed the Artificial Intelligence to be
The Terminator's wardroom was empty for the moment, which allowed Sophie to slip inside and admire the breathtaking view. The planet Byron hung huge against the blackness of space. With the exception of the poles, most of its surface was brown. It had very little water, and what there was flowed deep below the surface through veins in the volcanic rock.And it was there, protected from the sun's wicked rays, that the great worms spun their gossamer cocoons, "sang" their epic love songs, and manufactured their optically switched computers for which they were so justifiably famous.Among the businesses that went together to comprise Doug Douglas Enterprises was a well known "glass house", as chip based computer companies were known.That being the case, Sophie had gone to some lengths to educate herself where related technologies were concerned. Rather than create conventional computers, in which electrons follow pathways etched into tiny silicon chips
The words, translated by the computer woven into the senator's day robes, sounded only slightly stilted.Thus prompted, the spy, a minor member of the president's staff, started to talk.The information was important, extremely important, or would have been if it had been delivered five days earlier. The report tailed off, concluded with another request for funds, and finally came to an end.Though well aware of the effect the gesture had on humans, the Midvalian yawned, and the operative, who hated the sight of the wormlike organs that waved from the interior of the other being's mouth, tried not to shudder."Interesting", the politician concluded. "Very interesting, but made a good deal less valuable, since former President Doug Douglas is scheduled to land within the next standard hour or two. There will be no bonus. Fetch something more valuable next time".The use of the word "fetch" was intentional, and the meaning was clear. He
That being the case, most visitors had no choice but to don their space suits or wait for a pressurized crawler to pick them up.Doug Douglas didn't need oxygen, not much anyway, and knew his body could function in a hard vacuum - a fact that had saved his life once in the past.Sophie had no such advantage, however, and was forced to wear a navy issue space suit. It was a little too large, but not enough to matter. She sealed herself in and followed her uncle through the lock. A luggage laden autocart trailed behind.Organized chaos ruled the repellor-blackened flight deck. Space suited biological bodies rushed to deal with newly arrived ships, robot hoses nosed their way into receptacles, and two person maintenance sleds flew over their heads.A pathway that consisted of two parallel yellow lines zigzagged across the enormous deck, terminating in front of a well marked hatch. The words "Many minds but with one purpose" had been inscribed over th
Arrogant one moment and subservient the next, his assistant was a study in contrasts. He nodded, killed the holo, and took control of the conversation. "So? What, if anything, did the spooks send today?"Though not entirely comfortable with the term "spooks" as a synonym for the Hegemony's intelligence service, the staffer knew whom Six was referring to and answered accordingly. "Yes, Senator. In addition to the usual summary, we received notice that Governor Sandral Usmos departed Earth. She will arrive soon".It was an interesting piece of news, and the clone took a moment to consider the implication. The governor had timed her visit to coincide with the new session, that much was obvious, but why? To forestall the sort of military action for which the the Turr had lobbied? To buy time for her illegitimate government? Both possibilities seemed reasonable.His government remained neutral where the "Earth problem" was concerned, and so was he. Six nodded.
Xian Karrh knew he had been dismissed and was happy to go. The dinner, a formal affair scheduled for end of work the following day, was a diplomatic must. "Yes, I'll be there"."Excellent", the senator replied. "I'll see you then".A worker drone escorted Xian Karrh to the hatch. It opened, and he stepped outside. The corridor was crowded, and traffic pulled him along. Nothing had been gained, or had it? Why would the Midvalians be interested in Dodvalian planets? Didn't they have enough already?It was an interesting question, and one he would endeavor to answer. * * * The private dining room, which was just right for the intimate dinners that Maricolt Rackoon liked to host, was paneled in Vorthillian walnut.The wood gleamed from frequent oiling and matched that of the long, formally set table - most of which was obscured by what seemed like acres of white linen.The President smiled cordially as he ushered his guests into the
The desert swept long, hard, and wide into what had once been Ethiopia, but had long since become but one of many Administrative Regions, or ARs, all subject to a single Earth government. Not that the local inhabitants cared, or paid much attention to such abstractions. They lived as they always had, subject to God and the rule of nature.There was no sign of movement save from distant clouds of dust raised by the seasonal Khamsin and the high, hopeful circles made by a solitary white backed vulture. A hungry vulture that hoped to feed off the weak or the dead.The river bed, dry until the October rains sent water flooding along its course, ran roughly north to south and offered the only cover for twenty miles in any direction.It certainly beat the hell out of no cover, but was far from perfect. Salom and her people had destroyed most if not all of Luton's spy satellites, and more than a week had passed since one of his high altitude spy planes had attemp
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