Prophecy (30 page)

Strapped into her pod in the personal transport vehicle on her way to the Mobile Exploratory Research Station, Mariah replayed her last few minutes with Thomas. Assurances that she would be back rang hollow and they both knew it.

Before she left she begged him to accept the deed to the house on Mastenhege, requesting that Michael purchase it from the CIA and transfer the title into Thomas’ name. She was pleased when he reluctantly accepted her gift. He loved the house; the lighting was perfect for a photography studio—and more so, that he wanted to live in the house that held such warm memories of their time together.

She tried to communicate with the dicit inside her, to find out if she would return, but received no answer. Not that she expected one. There was no contact between them, only strong intuitive feelings on her part that she ascribed to them. Strangely, there was comfort in knowing there was purpose behind her mutations, that she was part of some racial destiny.

Momentary sadness filled her when she remembered her friend and confidant, Frannie Manzetti; however, this powerful force would not allow her to wallow in misery for very long.

The
Lepitera
came into view, hidden from Earth’s technology by alien technology. Mariah’s eyes widened, awed by its aesthetic beauty.

It looked like a butterfly. The main body stretched twenty-five hundred feet end to end, housing all the necessary operations and mechanics to keep the vessel in space forever. At what would have been the butterfly’s head was the bridge and Neural Matrix Information Processor. The NMIP linked together power, environment, communication, long and short-range sensors, hyperspace drive, navigation, and weapons. It communicated like a living entity, having functional speech plus audio and visual recognition.

Protruding from both sides of the “head” were the weapon rods, designed for defense. They had perforations down the top third of the shaft which, when the pulse laser was activated, would bombard an opponents’ spaceship with high energy beams that could slice metal.

Four compartments attached to the main body, two on each side. One was living quarters, more than adequately accommodating the crew of three hundred. Joined to it by a suspended rail system was the medical unit, equipped with technology far in advance of Earth’s.

The third section, opposite the living quarters, was the research facility consisting of fifteen individual eco-chambers whose controls could be manipulated to mimic nearly ten thousand different environments. The last compartment was for social gatherings, recreation, dining, and physical fitness.

Sateron entered the MERS through a protective energy array beneath the main section then relinquished control of the Personal Transport Vehicle to the NMIP who guided it to its cradle. Although Mariah was fascinated by everything, a sense of urgency filled her. She knew they needed to be out of this solar system as quickly as possible. Reaching the bridge in minutes, Sateron brought the
Lepitera
out of hold with a few brief commands, giving the NMIP the coordinates for Izorach.

“Prime Commander, permission to speak.” Meron Drango, Bridge Pilot, stood rigidly, staring straight ahead. He wore the military work uniform of a bridge pilot; a stiff, high-necked black tunic that came to mid thigh, girded with a silver transport belt. Silver-gray Jodhpurs tucked into black boots above his calves completed the severe outfit.

Shekron Prime Commander, Meron Senala, sensed the young pilot’s excitement and surmised its source.

“Permission granted, Bridge Pilot.” The Prime Commander wore a purple tunic, similar to the bridge pilot’s, with the insignia of his rank decorating his chest.

“We have locked onto the
Lepitera’s
signature.”

No surprise, this intelligence. To the Prime Commander’s knowledge, nothing had ever escaped a Stirilium Cruiser. It was the most powerful and intelligent medium class military spacecraft in the Cheloran fleet. In addition to a full array of defensive and tactical weapons—energy beam projectors, smart missiles, various particle emission detectors, and sensors that spanned from radio wave through the Gamma ray spectrum—the Cruiser had a fully functional NMIP programmed for extended range and detection capabilities. While the genetic code for pride had been bred out of the military, Senala, of the military designation Meron, still felt satisfaction in knowing that he commanded a vessel never before defeated.

“Signal them. Do not drop our screens. We will allow the traitors an opportunity to surrender. Arm the beam projectors. Stand ready to fire warning bursts on my command. They will understand that we will not sanction delay while they attempt ineffectual and meaningless maneuvers.

“Feed their signature to the Intezelin. I instinct they will not give up their precious cargo.”

Drango acknowledged the Prime Commander’s orders with a quick nod then fed the information to the NMIP. Senala ordered a screen view of the
Lepitera
and the processor acquiesced immediately.

Scientists were a strange coterie,
he reflected
, drifting through the galaxies in spacecrafts barely capable of anything more than defense against mediocre attack
. True, there were few known civilizations that could penetrate the MERS protective force field, and he granted the defensive weaponry was sufficient to lay waste to many known military vessels, but the
Lepitera
was useless against the superior design of a real war ship in the same class as a Stirilium Cruiser.

Drango tried for dispassion, but Senala heard the excitement in his voice. “We have hailed. They do not acknowledge, Prime Commander.”

“Prepare to lay three bursts across their aft on my command.” Senala was just about to issue the fire order when Drango scowled and turned to face his superior.

“Prime Commander, the
Lepitera
has disappeared.”

Senala’s right eyebrow rose fractionally as he stared at the younger Anorasian. “What explanation is given by the NMIP?” While his voice was steady and without inflection, his stomach muscle suddenly tightened in an unaccustomed clench.

There was a pause as Drango queried the processor. Its digitized voice came through clearly. “There is no explanation for this anomaly, First Pilot Meron Drango,” it droned, the vocals startlingly realistic. “I am more than capable of penetrating mechanical stealth-producing energy fields. My probe has received information that they may be enveloped in an unknown biological invisibility.”

Senala stiffened at an unexpected prescience of danger suffusing his mind. Unwilling to acknowledge this sensation, he said grimly, “We will not be drawn into their game. Feed the
Lepitera’s
signature to the Intezelin. Let us be done with this.”

With another brief nod, Drango issued the order to the NMIP. It was immediately transmitted to the smart missile.

The Intezelin Torpedo chattered back to the NMIP, acknowledging its assignment. There had never been an escape from an Intezelin and Meron Senala, Anorasian Prime Commander of the Stirilium Cruiser
Prehendere,
was confidant today would be no exception.

Aleris’ calm, uninflected voice came to Mariah as if they discussed nothing more than the weather. “The Intezelin Torpedo is linked to the on-board NMIP but is, in itself, capable of intelligence. It has a direct range of from two to five million miles and a speed computed at the rate of planetary transport. Its range can be greatly extended if the missile locks onto its target that is in the act of jumping. Should this happen, the Intezelin will follow the target into hyperspace, jumping each time its target does, all the while moving closer until it is near enough to self-destruct and demolish the target. In addition, the missile has a stealth producing energy field and protective force screens.”

Slumped in her pod with her eyes closed, Mariah acted as if she hadn’t heard. When there was no response, Aleris turned back to the computer array to discuss their non-existent options with her colleague.

They knew Mariah was psychically linked to the neural processor on board the MERS. The light array before them was in communication mode but no sound issued from the processor’s audio speakers. When there was a sudden surge of power to the MERS’ stealth shields, they knew she had caused a psychic block—and that the Stirilium Cruiser, which hailed them moments before, was blinded.

For the first time since the NMIP announced the Cruiser’s presence, the Anorasian scientists had a fleeting burst of hope.

It had only been a test. Mariah now knew she was able to enhance the NMIP’s programming.

When she opened her eyes, they saw only her black pupils and reddened eyeballs. Aleris was reminded of an eclipse with the sun’s corona visible only around the rim of the darkness. The sardonic grin on Mariah’s face told them everything they needed to know, filling their hearts with cautious anticipation.

Patch me into the NMIP on that Cruiser
, she sent to the neural matrix processor on the
Lepitera.

Given a dedicated pathway, she fired off her demand without any preliminaries:

Let me talk to the Intezelin
.

The NMIP on the
Prehendere
assumed it was being queried by its counterpart on the
Lepitera
. The demand was unheard of and it responded stiffly.

“
There is no basis for this query. Request denied
.”

The
Prehendere’s
NMIP felt it unnecessary to alert the sentient beings on board the Cruiser as to the nature of the query because the request presented had no merit nor did it pose any threat.

Mariah had not expected her demand to be granted. The purpose of the initial contact was to trace the
Lepitera’s
encoded signature path to and from the
Prehendere’s
NMIP
.
Unaware that she had entered its communication conduit during that momentary link, the
Prehendere
disconnected.

Or thought it had. The NMIP on the
Prehendere
had never been violated by anything. It was never designed to protect its communication conduit. Mariah Carpenter’s exceptional psychic gift had accomplished a feat no Anorasian could do.

As the Intezelin Torpedo slipped through
Prehendere’s
protective force field, Mariah minutely tweaked the
Lepitera’s
signature.

Momentarily confused, the smart bomb sent a communiqué to the
Prehendere
.

“The target signature has been corrupted. Please resend.”

Having stored the
Lepitera’s
signature, the
Prehendere’s
NMIP sent it again. It had no way of knowing that Mariah followed this operation very closely.

Her eyes blazed with excitement. She not only locked onto the communication path between the two processors, she now had the Intezelin’s ear.

She allowed the neural matrix processor on board the Stirilium Cruiser to change the signature back to the correct one; she needed it out of the communication link. Sucking in her breath, she gripped the arms of the pod.
This is going to be too damn close,
she thought.

When the Intezelin was approximately a million miles from the
Lepitera,
Mariah communicated with it.

“
The signature I gave you is incorrect
.
”

Blocked from this communiqué, the
Prehendere’s
NMIP was unaware of Mariah’s ruse. However the Intezelin assumed it was receiving intelligence from its source.

In tones that sounded like annoyance, the Intezelin sent:

“What is the uncertainty? You have now countermanded the signature order twice. Are you in malfunction?”

Mariah chuckled out loud, drawing startled glances from the two geneticists. What she could find amusing at this crucial time was beyond them.

“I’m in perfect condition, you little piece of shit. In fact, I’ve never felt better in my life.” Mariah grinned and thought,
that should blow some of its micro circuits
.

Unaccustomed to the language, the Intezelin ignored the communication and responded:

“I have my target on visual. I no longer require its signature. There seems to be no malfunction in my circuitry. I will proceed with my instructions.”

There was no room for errors. Not even a nanosecond. Every step from this point on must be precise.

“
Now
!”

Mariah’s stomach lurched. Her head felt as though it was trying to separate from her body as Sateron activated the hyperspatial transport coordinates. Ignoring the nausea caused by a weightless spinning sensation, she concentrated on the Intezelin Torpedo.

Good. As anticipated, it followed the
Lepitera
, closer now by half a million miles. Mariah instantly shielded the MERS with a tremendous punch of psychic energy. Concealed from view, she then reverted its signature back to the original.

Sweat poured down her face into her eyes, causing her vision to blur and her eyes to burn. Mariah’s body trembled and convulsed with the adrenaline boiling through her system. She tried to ignore this state of near collapse.

It was the exacting communication in binary code that caused her strength to drain. Her brain was working overtime. Translating from code to English to understand what was being said then translating her message back to code was exhausting. It was almost more than she could handle. But if she couldn’t carry this off, she and her friends would become molecules in the vastness of space.

Sateron stared at her, fear gnawing a hole in the pit of his stomach. Mariah appeared to be in tremendous pain. Her body was rigid, shaking as if she had ague. Her knuckles were white from gripping the arms of the pod. Her teeth were bared in a snarl as her lungs strained to fill with enough oxygen to keep her conscious. He felt Aleris’ psychic touch; half rising from his pod, anxiety caused him to subconsciously head in Mariah’s direction.

“Well, hey there, Boo Boo, what’s shakin?” Mariah was back in communication with the smart missile as she sensed it locking onto their signature.

Caught off guard, she reared back into her seat when the Intezelin blasted back:

“WHAT ARE YOU?”

Her brain sizzled from the explosive violence of the transmission.
So this thing is designed with emotional response
, she thought, shaking her head to clear the pain like a bear with a flea in its ear. She had not anticipated this exercise would be easy; she now knew she would have to deal with more than just artificial intelligence.

Recovering, her lips skinned back in a grimace that was supposed to be a grin.

“Hey Gilligan, little buddy, don’t you recognize me? It’s the Skipper! And with me are the Professor and Marianne!”

“I do not understand this transmission. For what purpose is this discourse?”

“Purpose? Well, if you must know, you’ve been given the wrong target coordinates. You’ve been flimflammed, little buddy!”

Lights flashed on the Intezelin’s console, random and haphazard, never having been addressed by the NMIP in this fashion. “Impossible. I clearly received this signature as my target. I am prepared to proceed.”

Mariah immediately tweaked the
Lepitera’s
signature and felt the Intezelin hesitate.

“Which signature were you given? Seems to me like brain central is having delirium tremens. Or worse, is doing this on purpose.”

There was silence as the Intezelin assimilated as many of these words as possible; however, it did understand the last part. But the Anorasians had designed the missile to think—and it swiftly came to a decision.

“If the signature is incorrect, the corruption resides with the Neural Matrix Intelligence Processor that exists on the Cruiser, not the processor from which I receive my programming. I have locked onto both signatures. I will self-destruct when approximate to either
.
”

Mariah’s eyes widened in dismay. It was a whole lot smarter than she gave it credit; it was capable of multiple signature sensory. Disengaging from the Intezelin, she scowled. This was the first time since she began flexing her growing psychic muscles that she was stumped—and afraid.

Suddenly her face cleared; she focused on the two scientists before her.

“Change of plans.” Her voice was hoarse and ragged with fatigue. “Take us back to our original coordinates. I need to be close to the NMIP on the
Prehendere.”

Nonplussed, Sateron nevertheless swiveled back to the panel array and gave the coordinates to the
Lepitera’s
NMIP. If there was one thing he had learned, it was to trust this female’s odd behavior without question.

This time, the hyperspatial jump was not as unsettling.
Or maybe I’m just getting my space legs, so to speak
, Mariah thought bleakly. As anticipated, the Intezelin completed the jump with them, moving to within several hundred thousand miles of the
Lepitera
. Not yet close enough to self-destruct, but definitely gaining advantage.