Galactic Vigilante (Vigilante Series 3) (41 page)

“Good that you make that exception, Matthew,” she said, a relaxed smile filling her high-cheeked face. “I would not have the mind of your lifepartner be upset with me. After all, Gatekeeper and I still have much to learn from you two.”

“Oh? Like what?”

“Like how to bring to life a baby. An infant. A small version of ourselves.”

Damn. When AIs got emotional, they sure got different from the ‘just the facts please’ standard mode of relating. Then again, having emotional AIs like Mata Hari and Gateway sharing his and Eliana’s mind had brought them a greater awareness of how the galaxy’s aliens, who were most of the trillions of lifeforms ruled by Anarchate, must feel. That understanding would be vital to future efforts by Ocean Fleet. And vital to his own movement beyond the memory pain of the loss of his sister Charlotte, their parents and his three other sisters.
After all, wasn’t the loss of five AI minds from his fleet identical to the loss of his family when kidnapped by genome harvesters?

“Agreed, Mata Hari. But I also learn from you and your fell
ow AIs. So, let it begin here and now.”

“Begin what?” asked Summer Girl as she began to dance on a green meadow.

“The fight for life across the galaxy.”

CHAPTER
TWENTY

Mindstorm of the Nik-nik thot species rested in his water bowl, floating in Nullgrav before the fifteen other members of the Council of Sixteen. Several datapads and holo emitters floated beside his post. So nice it was to control one’s local gravity with gravplates in the bowl that his species preferred to the benches, stools or avian perches used by others. That had long been the practice for council meetings. Each member stood, flew or floated as they wished, while their minds and voices, of a sort, collaborated on the ruling of the galaxy. So it had been for two million cycles. So it would continue for another two million cycles. Though the vidimage and acoustic reports from his Sector 14 had become troubling over the last few Belizel months. But the loss of battleglobes and bases had happened before in the history of the Anarchate. He had answers prepared.

“Mindstorm, do you rest comfortably?” asked Noktoren, a red-
plumaged avian who ruled Sector 13. The other fourteen council members fixed perception nodes, eyes or eyestalks on the two of them.

So it began. “Relaxed even am I, esteemed Noktoren of the Solink.”

The avian raptor’s red head crest flared. “Oh? My infrared sight sees your bodyheat is elevated, despite the coolness of your perch. Something disturbs you?”

“Oh, you
refer perhaps to the recent tachnet reports of minor disturbances at some bases and planets within my sector?”

Noktoren flared his two wings
and elevated his yellow beak. “There are such reports? My Sector 13 Combat Command chief Himonius did mention something about your Intelligence base needing 120 battleglobes to fight off some kind of pirate attack. But I am sure you would advise this council of any serious news from your sector.”

A nice
riposte, even though his exoskeletal shell would deflect any normal attack. Even with his shell adorned by rubies, sapphires, diamonds and gold inlay tracery, Mindstorm was quite able to pincer-fight any organic opponent. Including the subtle mind assault of Noktoren. “Yes, there was a request for 120 battleglobes sent by one Brrzeet, my chief of Sector 14 Intelligence base in Perseus Arm.”

“That was it,” whistled Noktoren. “I have a holo record
of it somewhere here.”

“Don’t disturb your perch, honored one.” Mindstorm
lifted slightly his underbody shell to allow more salt to invade his gills, then settled back on his six limbs. “Reports since then, including one from a cosmo-astronomer of your species, a person named Skyree, say a soft-skinned alien of species Human led an assault on the base with several hundred alien warships. It seems the globe nodes of the base were reduced to particles of neutron star while the staff were evacuated on Supply Tubes and Courier ships. A new Intelligence chief has been appointed and a new base location found in Sagittarius Arm. Trade continues without interruption.”

Two
eyestalks of Sooteen of the Loglan tilted his way from her own water bowl that floated in the council’s meeting space. She governed Sector 15, as had members of her species for the last hundred thousand cycles. “Mindstorm, one Kontine, former assistant to a certain Commander Chai of Sector 14 Intelligence, reports it was itself captured by this Human. Who goes by the name sigil Matthew Raven’s-Wing Dragoneaux. Kontine has passed on to me the allegation that this soft-skinned biped seeks an end to cloneslavery. And to indentured bondServant contracts. That does not sound like normal Trade.”

So a species ally of Sooteen had reached the most senior member of the Council of Sixteen? His prepared answers were well researched, but he dare not repeat the mistake of the council’s
Sector 9. The black-furred Meligun representative had approved a change to the standard bondServant contract before discussing it with the Council. As a result, representatives of Melikark Conglomerate were subject to . . . expressions of dismay by any Anarchate official.

“Agreement with your assessment, most esteemed leader of this Council,” Mindstorm said with his mouth palps, then used his
ingestion cilia to activate one of his holos so it projected an image into the central well. “This Human is a renegade to his own species, as noted in this recording from the planetary ruler of his home planet, a place called Earth, in Orion Arm.” His cilia activated a second holo. “The Human has control of at least 300 hundred warships constructed by the long extinct T’Chak species of the Small Magellanic Cloud. An effort to destroy the T’Chak home planet failed.”

Noktoren flapped his leathery wings. “So the report of the loss of costly battleglobes that my Himonius has sent me is valid?”

Mindstorm appreciated how his Sector 13 neighbor avoided directly blaming him by pointing to a report from his underling. It had long been impolite for any Council of Sixteen member to imply personal negligence by another Council member. The admonishment of Melikark Conglomerate and its Meligun representative for Sector 9 had been the harshest action in recent Council memory. He must be fleet on his pincers to avoid the high waves that now approached.

“
It is valid. The space battle at Sector 14 Intelligence headquarters, near the supernova nebula known to some species as Cloud Of Warning, resulted in the loss of 160 Nova-class battleglobes.” All members of the Council gave some kind of reaction to that statement. Sooteen’s eyestalks stayed fixed on Mindstorm. “Before that the Sector 14 Naval Base at CC8733, between Sagittarius and Orion arms, was demolished. Its planet four location was turned into a black hole by a T’Chak weapon that is under study. There was a loss of 62 battleglobes.” Sooteen slapped her own pincer legs against the metal of her bowl, acting startled. Mindstorm’s cilia activated a third holo with the locations of his answer highlighted in glowing purple. “Before that the Sector 14 Naval Academy at CC7843, in the Owl M47 cluster of Sagittarius Arm, was reduced to a radioactive crater. With the total loss of students and instructors, along with a few ships.”

Noktoren lifted off his bar perch with a heavy flap of his wings, his red crest flaring in all directions as his yellow beak struck forward, as if seeking an opponent. “Two hundred battleglobes lost! This is a notable disruption in your sector, my good friend. You have a remedy prepared?”

Mindstorm inhaled deeply through his gills, then clicked his mouth palps in answer. “Of course, Council friend and helper when my Intelligence base faced distress. Your loss of 120 battleglobes will be replaced over the next five annual cycles by output from three shipyards in my sector.”

Sooteen fixed all four
eyestalks on him even as her shell’s outer surface displayed a mix of colors as chromatophores flickered a complex pattern over her soft-skinned shell. “That is not the remedy this Council requires. What of this Human renegade? What of his warship fleet? Do we know where he bases himself? And which planets are helping him? Answers are needed.”

The bluntness of Sooteen’s click-speech startled Mindstorm. Flaring two more cilia he gave what answers he had.

“Esteemed leader of the Loglan, my answers are incomplete owing to the loss of some bases. However, the Human has been declared an enemy of the Anarchate on the galactic tachnet. A reward for his capture or confirmed death has been offered. His warship fleet originated in the Small Magellanic Cloud. Each ship possesses two weapons unique to the T’Chak. They are a graviton beam that reduces large objects like a planet to a black hole, and an emitter of coherent neutrinos that turns small objects like an asteroid, or a planet, into a magnetically confined stellar plasma. Which detonates in a miniature nova within a minute of creation.” Each Council member hooted, grunted, tapped pincers or made some reaction sign. “As to a base, my officials are searching for it. The Human has not returned to his birth planet Thuringia, to the Earth home world of his species, nor to the Halcyon planet that is the home of his chief aide, a crossbreed biped with the name sigil Eliana Antigone Themistocles. My researchers will visit each of the 27 colony worlds established by this Newcomer Human species to uncover his cooperators. This Council will learn those answers as soon as I learn them myself.”

Sooteen’s colorful chromatophore display quieted down to a dull brown and yell
ow mix. “That is a start. Continue your research efforts, Mindstorm of Sector 14. And do remember to advise this Council of any further loss of battleglobes. And bases. Understood?”

“Understood, my leader.”

The Council meeting moved on to other matters regarding Trade alliances, the status of the sixteen conglomerates whose representatives made up the Council, and data about new markets. There were no more revelations from Noktoren or other Council members.

This session had been more stressful than he had expected. His stress would become the life worry of his Sector assistants, commercial representatives and intelligence agents. A challenge to the established order of things in the Anarchate had occurred before. Such challenges had been dealt with and the episodes largely forgotten except by scholars of antiquity. This new challenge to cloneslavery and bondServant contracts was to be expected. His reading of the species history of these Humans showed that sections of the species had eradicated any internal slavery long before entering space. The normal indentured servitude of worker contracts, though, had been evolved to a fine art among these soft-skinned bipeds. Even though they were land dwellers with little appreciation of the vast ocean that covered their planet, their interstellar business entities had fit well into normal Anarchate society. As shown by the two Human owners of the now defunct
play world of Omega Casino. But this renegade’s declaration of war on the Anarchate was beyond humor. It was a public declaration of threat to all Anarchate institutions. Well, he knew how to handle public opposition.

“Medun,” he called over his embedded tachlink node to
his Spelidon assistant who had been the first to convey the reports of a species ally named Commander Chai to him.

“Yes, Sector leader,” said the black-furred and soft-skinned biped who seemed to exist just fine without immediate access to salt water. “You have directions for me?”

“That I do. Dispatch Intelligence operatives to every Human colony world, no matter how recently established. They are to interrogate civil archive databases in search of any sign that this Dragoneaux biped has visited the planet. Or sought help. Include the Halcyon system of his ally, this Eliana person. And revisit the Thuringia home world that gave birth to this renegade. Perhaps there is more to be learned than what Commander Chai reported.”

The black whiskers of Medun flared into the sign of Duty Accepted. “Your wish is my personal life objective, sector leader. Will our forces destroy one of these Human worlds?”

“Only if it is shown to have helped this disgusting biped who does not understand the nature of galactic commerce.” Mindstorm passed over thought-images of his own research. “We cannot attack the home world of the species. Nor any Human colony world without proof of illegal activity. It would be upsetting to other worlds to see us interfering in a world’s internal affairs. But bait is needed to draw this Human to us. Like the genome captives which Sector Captain Yorkel brought to the Intelligence base. Are there no family relatives of this Human that we could capture?”

The Spelidon’s mental image thumped his tail on the metal floor of his personal Courier ship. “There were. Fifteen cycles ago. They were all captured by a genome harvester starship that raided this Thuringia colony world. It is assumed they died after capture, with their clones being sold to the highest bidder. Normal Trade practice.”

Mindstorm clacked his pincers together. “Normal Trade, yes. But it is the sole possible link to the emotions of this Human. Seek out any sign that a family member survived capture. Perhaps one of them was sold as a labor slave. The cloneslave manufactories still do that, do they not?”