The Indestructibles (Book 4): Like A Comet (39 page)

      He sighed and activated his
earpiece.

      "Who's out there," he
said, shocked at how gravelly his own voice was.

      "I'm here," Billy said. "Where
are you, Titus?"

      Titus looked around, wiped blood
from his eyes. The aliens behind the glass were stared at him, not in anger,
but in curiosity. He wondered what they thought of him. If they realized this
was the end.

      "I'm on the brain ship,"
Titus said. "If we have anyone close to it, you better pull back."

      "What?" Billy said.

      "I can't kill it," Titus
said. "I thought I could, but I was wrong. I'm going to have to blow it
up."

      "The hell you are,"
Billy said. "I'm coming over there."

      "How many fighters would you
drag with you if you headed my way, Billy?"

      Silence on the other end of the
line. Titus heard his friend breathing.

      "Who else is out there?"
Titus said. "Are we all still alive?"

      "Yeah furball, we're all
still here," Emily said.

      "Do you have the amulet I
told you to take," Doc said.

      Titus was glad. He'd been
wondering if Doc were out there. He wanted to hear the magician's voice one
more time.

      "I do, boss."

      "Don't give up hope then,"
Doc said. "You're carrying a little bit more luck with you than you think."

      Titus smiled, looking around at
the tight quarters here in the middle of this hellish ship, at the glowing blue
engine full of some sort of fuel that hadn't even been invented yet. He needed
more than luck.

      "Kate?" Titus said.

      Kate didn't answer. Titus smiled.
Of course not. He knew she was listening. Talk to her about business. Always
business with her.

      "Hey Kate, how's the problem
with that last seed ship," Titus said. "I don't think destroying the
brain ship will stop it from doing what it's intended to do."

      "I've got a plan, Titus,"
Kate said without hesitation.

      "You always do."

      Neal's voice chimed in.

      "Designation: Whispering.
Your channel with Designation: Dancer is now direct," Neal said.

      "Don't you dare die on me,"
Kate snapped.

      "Trying not to," Titus
said.

      "You're the one person I've
never been able to protect," Kate said. "I hate that."

      "Well, that goes both ways
Kate Miller," Titus said. "I promise I won't let you down."

      Kate sighed. "I mean what I
said."

      "I know," Titus said.
"I've always known. Go save the world, Kate."

      "You too," she said.

      The line went silent.

      Titus activated the incendiary
device, then half-walked, half-crawled down the steps that led up to the room
where the fleet's controllers still slumbered, using the old alien's sword like
a cane to help pull himself along. The stairs wouldn't offer much protection,
but maybe that little bit would help.

      This is what we were all put here
to do, he thought. Defense mechanisms for the world. White blood cells. Immune
systems. Here to keep this place spinning for one more day.

      He closed his eyes and smiled
before pushing the button on the remote and activating the makeshift bomb.

      The tunnel filled with horrible
noise, then white light. And then nothing.

Chapter
74:

Improvised
weapon

Kate watched the Tower's monitors and
saw the brain ship crumble from within. The huge vessel crackled and split. Pressure
continued to build inside until its shiny carapace exploded, causing it to fall
apart like an egg squeezed in a giant invisible fist.

      Flames flashed for just a moment before
the vacuum of space snuffed them out. Somewhere in the midst of all the
destruction, her best friend had stood alone, trying to save a world he'd truly
never been comfortable living in.

      She gritted her teeth, pushed all
other thoughts to the back of her mind, and turned her attention to the seed
ship, no longer under control of its brain but still hurtling, with increasing
momentum, toward Earth. Still capable of terraforming the planet into something
deadly with its organic machinery. A suicide bomb for a dead armada.

      How did I get here? Kate thought.
I didn't put on this mask to save the world. I did it to stop little crimes, to
make things better one life at a time. I'm just a failed dancer in a costume. I
don't belong here in a bloody space ship fighting to prevent the apocalypse.

      You must be better than this, she
reminded herself. Her consistent mantra, her prayer. There's always something
you can do.

      "Neal," she said. "Are
you sure there's no weapons on this ship."       "Nothing beyond
personal weapons like the ones in the training room, Designation: Dancer,"
Neal said. "I apologize."

      "How do you build a ship like
this without weapons?" Kate said.

      "This was a craft designed by
hopeful people, Designation: Dancer," Neal said. "From what little I
have been able to learn about them, they were healers and wise men. Allowed to
travel the stars unharmed."

      "Well, they still should have
put some damned guns on this ship," she said.

      They were rapidly approaching the
plummeting seed ship. Do what you always do, Kate thought. When you see a
problem, hit it. And, if you see a problem too big for your fist, hit it with
something harder.

      "Neal, if we ram it with the
Tower, will we be able to knock that ship off course enough that it'll miss the
Earth?" Kate said.

      Neal went silent as he calculated
projections, velocities, and angles.

      "Designation: Dancer. If we
increase our speed by sixty-five point seven percent, we will meet the seed
ship before it strikes the Earth and create a sufficient impact to redirect it
away from the planet."    

      "Do it," Kate said.

      "Designation: Dancer,"
Neal said, panic overtaking his voice. "I should warn you there is a seventy-eight
percent chance the Tower itself will not survive the impact. This vessel was
not designed as a warship. Its hull—"

      "—Can you come up with any
other options, Neal?" Kate said. "Because I'm not seeing any and I'm
not about to let my friends die because I didn't want to break our clubhouse."

      Again, silence from Neal.

      "Any other options I calculate
result in mission failure or destruction of our ship, Designation: Dancer,"
Neal said.

      "Jane told me to find a way
to end this," Kate said. "I'm not letting her down. Any of them. Do I
need to steer?"

      "No. I will pilot the ship
for you."

      Engines revved up. The whole ship
shuddered, moving faster than it had since Kate took up residence. I'm throwing
a flying hospital at a living alien missile, she thought.

      Kate sat down and watched the seed
ship get closer and closer on the monitor. She turned her attention to another
screen and watched the ravaged destruction of the brain ship float away. On a
third, the chaos of the battle played as the Nemesis fleet's smaller vehicles
seemed to have lost all sense of purpose, no longer fighting with the
aggressive grace they'd seen in them earlier.

      Another screen displayed only
stars. A patch of empty sky, not far from the pitched battle in the grand scheme
of things. It looked peaceful, a reflection of eternity.

      Not a bad way to go, Kate thought.

      "Designation: Dancer, I can
prepare an escape pod for you," Neal said.

      "I don't want to risk it,"
Kate said. "I need to make sure this works."

      "We can jettison the escape pod
very close to impact," Neal said, his voice growing concerned. "It is
not necessary for you to go down with the ship."

      Again, Kate glanced at the
monitors and all the carnage floating around. She didn't feel like leaving. A strange
sensation, an emptiness in the pit of her belly told her not to leave home.

      "Designation: Dancer…"

      "Neal, it's okay," Kate
said.

      "I do not want to die here,"
Neal said.

      Kate bolted upright, shocked by
the fear evident in the AI's voice.

      "What do you mean?"

      "I don't want to end my
existence here," Neal said. "I want to leave." 

      Kate watched as the seed ship grew
closer and closer on the main monitor.

      "Can you escape?" she
said. "When we traveled into the future, there was a, a portable you
somehow, can you…?"

      "I can download my
consciousness into a mobile casing," Neal said. "I prepared for this
when we left Earth earlier as a precaution, Designation: Dancer."

      "Then go!" Kate said. "What
are you waiting around for? Get out of here!"

      One more long, soft pause from
Neal.

      "My programming does not
allow me to leave a crewmate behind, Designation: Dancer. If you stay, then so
must I."

      Kate laughed. Of all the things in
the world, it's this ridiculous computer, I'm going to have to rescue this
silly living computer…

      "Okay," she said, trying
to withhold smile, her eyes itchy as she fought back a sense of hope she hadn't
wanted to feel. "Where's the casing? I'll get it for you."

      She wondered if she was losing her
mind when she thought she could hear joy in the AI's voice.

      "It is motorized, and on
wheels, Designation: Dancer," Neal said. "I can meet you at the
escape pod."

      Kate released a hard, half-crazy,
incredulous belly laugh.

      "All this time we thought you
were the ship itself," Kate thought. "All this time…"

      "This ship has been a better
body than I could ever make myself," Neal said. "But I am my own
being."

      "Get going, you crazy robot,"
Kate said. She took one last look around the control room. Resting against one
chair was Titus's spear, the one he brought back from a training session with
the other werewolves months ago. He'd left it behind when he went to the brain
ship. Now Kate wondered why. She picked up the weapon and inspected it. She tried
to convince herself she was bringing it because Titus would want it later, but
the pragmatist in her told her this was only sentiment.

      And for just this once, Kate was
okay with sentiment.

      "On my way," she said. "Meet
you there, Neal."

      Long strides carried her through
the corridors into the bright, sterile halls of the Tower, this place they'd
called home, this place where they'd felt secure. Even Kate felt safe here, the
one spot she could turn to when she got in over her head, where she'd always be
welcome.

      She found the escape pods easily
enough. Emily was fond of napping in them, since no one ever thought they'd be
necessary, a row of cubby holes on the lower level of the Tower. 

      A blocky robot, not dissimilar
from a trash can, dotted with sensors and cameras, waited for her by the pod.
It rolled around on what looked like a set of ball bearings, with two segmented
arms attached to its sides.

      "Neal?" Kate said.

      "This chassis has an issue
with stairs and ladders, Designation: Dancer," Neal said. "Could you
help me?"

      Kate wrapped her arms around the
little robot, barely half as tall as she was, picked up the surprisingly light
machine and jumped inside the nearest escape pod with it. She set him down
gently and pounded a button, closing the hatch behind them. Kate took a moment
to catch her breath.

      "Designation: Dancer,
forty-five seconds to impact," Neal said.

      "I guess we better go,"
Kate said.

      She took one last look inside
through the reinforced glass window on the pod's door. It was a good home, she
thought. I'm sorry I had to do this to you. She pressed the release switch.

      Kate and Neal plummeted into
space, the activation of the pod pushed them away from the Tower itself. They
spun in the emptiness, a cork bobbing on the ocean. She watched out the window
as the pod's movement turned the view of the impact into a slide show, the
Tower racing closer and closer to the seed ship.

      The ships collided, hospital
crashing into terraforming device.

      Like a pair of jousting knights,
the two vessels smashed together, shuddering at the impact. Chunks of the seed
ship were crushed under the armored hull of the Tower; the Tower itself
sundered, a huge rift split open across the undercarriage of the flying
hospital. Kate watched the two machines wrestle in space, and then exhaled
deeply as the seed ship broke free, its direction altered by forty-five degrees
or more, falling away silent and cruel into empty space, trailing broken pieces
of its hull behind.

      Two internal explosions rocked The
Tower, leaving deep, smoking gashes in its hull. The ship's engines sputtered
out as it turned and spinned and finally, began drifting on its final course.

      "Neal, can you see this?"
Kate said.

      "Yes, Designation: Dancer."

      "Will you know where the
wreckage lands?"

      "I was a part of that ship
for decades, Designation: Dancer," Neal said. "And it was a part of
me. I will always know where it is."

      "I think I understand that
feeling," Kate said, watching the remnants of their home tumble silently
away.