To Well And Back (The Deep Dark Well) (26 page)

“And how are you going
to come up here?” asked the Admiral, trying to appear calm and knowing that he
had failed.

“I have a ship,” said
Watcher, looking straight into the Admiral’s eyes.  “And don’t bother looking
for it.  It’s down here, under the earth.  The Suryans I have with me are
prepping it right now, and when it is ready I will be coming for you and your
pitiful little fleet.”

“Scan that base,” said
the Admiral to his acting Sensor Officer, a Chief who was the best he had.

“There’s no way to scan
them, sir,” said the Chief, shaking his head.  “They are jamming us right
fierce.”

“Don’t believe me,
Admiral?” said Watcher, looking as smug as a cat that had just cornered a
mouse.  “That’s OK.  Don’t.  Until you see
Vengeance
coming for you.”

That was the name of
his damned twin
,
thought the Admiral, blanching. 
And he named the ship after that murderous
son of a bitch.

“I give you ten minutes
to think about it, Admiral,” said Watcher.  “Think well, for if I don’t get what
I want, you will get what I want for you.”

The screen went blank,
and a lot of frightened faces looked at each other, then at the Admiral.

“We have an anomaly,”
came the voice of the Security Chief over the Admiral’s personal link.

“What kind?” asked Gerasi,
wiping the sweat from his face with the back of his sleeve.

“We have an electrical
spike in storage room K-380,” said the officer.  “Like something is draining
the system, when there is nothing in that room to account for it.”

“Or something is recharging,”
said the Admiral, jumping out of his chair.  “That’s her.  Get a platoon of
Marines down there with their heaviest equipment.  And don’t move in until the
entire platoon is in position.”

“You still want her
alive, sir?” asked the officer in a hushed voice.

“No,” said the Admiral,
shaking his head.  “Just save whatever is left over, so we can show that damned
freak what we think of his threats.”

“Yes sir,” said the
Security Chief, his tone now upbeat.  “One fried bitch coming up.”

“But, but the Abomination
said he would destroy us if you hurt her,” said the Assistant Tactical Officer,
looking wide eyed back at the Admiral.

“The Abomination is the
Son of Satan,” said the Admiral, glaring at the officer.  “And it is the duty
of every Son of the Church to stand against him.  It’s not my responsibility to
do anything for that demon.  It is my responsibility to thwart him in every way
I can.  As it is for everyone who serves under me.  Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” said the
Assistant Tactical Officer, sitting up straight in his chair.  “Understood.”

“Good,” said the
Admiral, getting up and walking toward the ruin of the hatch leading onto the
bridge.  “I want to be there when they take her down.  Let me know if that
freak tries anything.”  Gerasi walked off the bridge, not sure who he was more
angry with, the Abomination or his own crew.

*     *     *

“Sending the signal,
now,” said Commander Hanson, pushing the button on the central control
console.  It had taken some hours to get the transmitter from the ship and set
it up for the task at hand, none of their tactical sets having the power to
cover this entire sector of the
Donut
.

“I sure hope this
works,” said Colonel Johanson, standing over the naval officer.

“No reason it
shouldn’t,” said the navy man.  “As long as we got a good code from that
woman.”

“OK, station computer,”
said the Colonel.  “You have received the override code from Pandora Latham. 
Now you will allow us access to your systems.”

“I have received no
such code,” said the computer.  “You are not authorized access to my systems.”

“Son of a bitch,”
yelled the Colonel, slamming a hand on the station console.  “We sent you the
damned signal, so you had to have gotten it.”

“I have received no
signal,” repeated the computer, “and therefore cannot grant you access to my
system.”

“And why haven’t you
received the signal?” asked the naval officer.

“The relays of my
signal reception system are burned out,” said the computer, its tone neutral.

“Son of a bitch,”
yelled the Colonel, his face reddening.  “The damned computer sabotaged itself
so it couldn’t receive our override signal.”

“I told you it was an
advanced AI,” said the Commander, his own face pale as he stared at the
holographic screen over the console, then at the giant bubble of space in the
center of the huge chamber.  “It has its own personality, and sees us as the
enemy.”

“I wish I could just
find its core and wipe it out,” yelled the Colonel, glaring at the holo
screen.  “You hear me computer.  If I could get to you, I would destroy you.”

“I acknowledge your
response, Colonel Johanson,” said the calm voice of the computer.  “I am not
authorized to give you the location of my central processor, or my three
redundant systems.  And you are not authorized access to my systems.”

“I guess it just told
us where to go,” said the Commander with a chuckle.

“You think this is
fucking funny,” yelled the Colonel, turning toward the naval officer and
raising a fist.

“Not at all,” said the
Commander, raising his hands palms out as if to deflect the Colonel’s anger. 
“The problem is we are treating this system like it’s one of our ship
computers, when it is a thousand years more advanced, maybe more.  We will not
be able to outthink it.”

“So what’s the answer?”

“I don’t know that
there is one,” said the Commander, holding his hands out palm up in a gesture
of
I don’t know
.  “Computer.  How long before those signal relays are
repaired.”

“Nanite repair systems
will have the relays up and running in about twenty-two minutes,” said the calm
voice.

“And I bet you are
telling them to take their time, aren’t you, you son of a bitch,” growled the
Colonel, pointing a finger at the screen.  “And then you’ll just overload the
circuits again, just before you tell us they’re ready.”

The computer said
nothing.

“I want you to keep sending
out that signal,” said the Colonel, turning his pointing finger at the
Commander.  “Continuously.  Maybe we’ll get lucky, and it will register while
there is a window.  And maybe we can find a way to input through that console.”

“I don’t think that’s
going to work,” said the Commander.  “It has already told us that it can only
be controlled from one of the designated stations.  And I have no idea how to
actually use this console to input commands.”

“Then think of
something, man,” said the Colonel in an exasperated voice.  “I’m just an old
ground pounder.  You’re the AI expert.  Figure out how to fox this thing.”

“I’ll try,” said the
Commander, looking dubiously at the console.  “But I’m trying to outfox a super
pack of foxes, not just one.”

*     *     *

If the Station Computer
had been able to breathe it would have sighed in relief. 
They’re not really
stupid, as far as sentients go
, thought the Quantum Computer. 
Not in
the same class as Watcher, not even as smart as Pandora Latham, but for
primitives they think well.

The computer had gotten
the idea from an old science fiction movie from the early space age days of
Earth, in which a space probe destroyed the input circuit to its own com system
so its creator would have to input the information it wanted by hand.  Such a
simple concept, and it could do it over and over again as needed, since those
who wanted it to accept the override, which it was sure was an illegal signal,
could not order it not to.

One of those last
remarks had bothered it though, that they might continuously beam the signal
until by some chance it had to accept it.  There would be some microseconds
there when the circuit would be open, before the quantum mind again overloaded
it.  But that was still tens of minutes in the future, an eternity to its
operating system.  It would run the scenarios in that time and see what it
could come up with.  It started right away, looking through its protocols with
one part of its awareness, seeing if there was anything there that allowed some
leeway in its response.  With another part of its awareness it searched its
data banks, hoping to come up with another foil.  It knew the odds were not
good, but a brain like itself had been known to buck the odds, especially when
dealing with the slow moving quantum brains possessed by organics.

I need to tell Watcher
, thought the computer,
sending out the call through the low bandwidth quantum entanglement it shared
with the superman.  Almost faster than the computer could register information
came back, and the computer was given yet another track to think on.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Aliens are an infestation on our Universe.  The
sooner we are rid of them, the sooner we will be able to make this Galaxy the
paradise that God meant it to be.   From the Log of Admiral Miklas Gerasi

“Enemy approaching,”
called out the suit system to Pandora as she was looking through the ship
schematics, trying to figure out the best way to approach her next target.  She
quickly checked her HUD and saw that her armor was fully charged.  She was
still low on consumables, and there was little she could do about that.  She
checked the mag pistols she had holstered at her side, not having too much
faith in their ability to penetrate the armor of the enemy marines.  The rifle
across her back gave her a little more faith, and she dialed it up to maximum
velocity and prepared herself to meet the assault.

The hatch slid open and
a pair of objects flew in.  They exploded the moment they touched the floor,
sending a combination of smoke, gas and shrapnel across the room.  Some of it
struck the cabinet Pandi had pulled in front of her when setting up her
position, punching through the thin metal and burying itself into the boxes
within the cabinet. 
Wonder what they expected to get out of that
,
thought the woman, while she maneuvered a couple of her microbots to get a good
take of the door she knew would soon be swarming with troops.  She sent another
bot into the ventilation shaft, then backed it away as it picked up another
trooper coming through.  Her take from the corridor showed dozens of armored
Marines, and she thought out her options in the couple of seconds they gave
her.

Not much time, but none
of the options looked that great, especially when a couple of Nation Marines
came into the room with grenade launchers blazing, and a couple of more pushed
a sled mounted laser into the entrance.

The room was not really
large, only fifteen meters on a side, and Pandi was about thirteen meters from
the door.  The grenades popped over the entirety of the room, some striking the
cabinet to her front, some more exploding over it and sending shrapnel into her
armor which bounced off with a light clang.  The laser started swinging her
way, and she knew they had to think she was hidden behind something.  Just her
bad luck that the first thing they chose was what she was hidden behind.  Bad
luck, or they had tracked the power outlet she was using.  Either way she had
to act now, or that heavy beam would burn through the cover, and possibly
through her.

Pandi put her palms on
the heavy cabinet and engaged her grabbers, both shoving with her arms and
moving herself forward with the spatial propulsion units.  The cabinet slid
easily on the floor, moving swiftly toward the laser that had started to cut
into the side of the storage container.  The grenadiers moved their weapons to
track onto the big moving  box, too late to do more than hit it with a couple
of mini-grenades.  Pandora shoved hard, the box fell forward, and slid along
the floor to strike the heavy laser and knock it and its stand to the ground.

The woman from the past
bounded over the cabinet as it went down, her suit’s servos sending her into
the air, while she pulled the assault rifle off her shoulder and sent a rapid
stream of high velocity single shots into the armored warriors.  Most of the
rounds bounced from the hard armor, a couple cracked then went through the face
mask of one soldier, dropping that man. 

Pandi cursed and
dropped the rifle, then reach over her left shoulder and pulled her katana from
its sheath.  One of the Marines was trying to wrestle the heavy laser back into
service, but stopped as the ultra-sharp blade cut through his helmet and into
the head beneath.  Pandora swiveled in the air, using her grabbers to move her
about, swinging the blade right and left with a figure eight that cut through a
pair of grenade launchers and the arms that were holding them.  The screams of
the wounded men grated on her ears and the audio receivers that were set for
optimal transmission.  But she did not have time to end their misery, lest her
hope of escape also be ended, or worse, she be recaptured.

Landing on her feet
softly under the levitation of the grabbers, she turned and ducked behind the
bulkhead just as a red particle beam shot through the space she had occupied
moments before.  Her cammo field was still up, and as far as she could tell
they could only see a faint outline of her armor, and the blade of the katana. 
That was probably enough to get off a quick, unaimed shot, and nothing more.

Pandora saw from her
hallway microbot take that there were men on both sides of the door, Marines
with heavy lasers getting ready to move in and try to take her out.  She pushed
her sword through the wall to her front, using the picture from the microbot to
target.  The ultra-sharp blade slid through the bulkhead like it was soft
plastic, and into the Marine with similar ease.  The man grunted, a sound she
heard through the microbot take, and fell away.  She pulled the sword back and
oriented herself to the doorway, waiting for the next object or person to come
through.  The men she had struck down earlier had finally gone silent, their
suits sealing up the wounds and injecting painkillers into their bloodstreams.

Suddenly she lost her
view of the corridor, the microbots taken out by some strong EMP.  She was
about to launch one of her remaining trio into the hall, it being that
important to find out what was going on out there, when something came flying
through the opening.  It was slightly larger than a microgrenade, but of
similar construction, and Pandi thought she knew what she was doing when she
swung her sword to intercept the slow moving projectile.  After all, most
grenades used a crystalline matrix storage cell that had to be primed just the
right way to explode.  And cutting through them was not the proper way to prime
them.

These thoughts went
through her mind as her ultra-sharp blade sliced into the object under her
skillful hand.  The dazzling white flash and the shock that traveled into her
arm were the first signs that something was wrong. 
Antimatter
, went
through her mind while she was still able to think.  Then the explosion washed
over her at the same time her sword shattered into a million fragments.  Heat
and radiation impacted on her armor, while the blast wave lifted her into the
air and flung her hard against the wall.  By that time consciousness had fled,
and she knew no more.

*     *     *

“We have her, Admiral,”
came the voice of the Marine Lieutenant over the com.

“Make sure she doesn’t
go anywhere,” growled the Admiral as he hurried down the corridor and followed
his security detail to the room.  He stood aside for a moment while a body was
brought out in its armor, then another.  Finally he stepped in, his eyes
riveted to the suit of battle armor that lay in the corner. 

The stealth field was
off, and the suit did not appear to be functioning at this point.  The right
hand gripped the hilt of the miracle sword, a sliver of blade still protruding
from the handle.  A tech knelt down by the woman, still in his armor but with
his faceplate retracted.

“The weapon only had an
infinitesimal amount of antimatter,” said the Marine Lieutenant, walking up to
the Admiral.  “We figured that even that blade would not be able to handle
antimatter, and if she hadn’t have struck it the explosion would still have
knocked her down.  And if she died.”  The Marine officer held out both hands in
an I don’t care gesture.

“And what about the blade?” asked Gerasi,
gesturing toward the hilt.

“Fragmented into a million pieces,” said the
Lieutenant.

“I can’t see how this
damned thing opens,” said the tech who was kneeling by the woman.  “There are
no seams, and no switch to make them appear.  I…”  The man stopped talking and
his hands went to his throat area.  He coughed, and blood gouted out to cover
the floor.  The man continued to hack as panic stricken eyes looked out of his
face.  Then one eye started to bleed.

“Out of this room,” yelled the Admiral,
grabbing the arms of the men around him and pulling them toward the door.

“What?” asked the
Lieutenant, looking at the dying tech.

“Get out of the room,”
yelled Gerasi again, pulling the officer with him as he ran out.  One of the
Marines, the one closest to the woman, started jerking and stumbled, got to his
knees, then fell down.

“What’s going on?”
yelled the Marine officer, looking back at his men.

“The particulate matter
of that sword is what’s going on,” yelled the Admiral back.  “Get a robot down
here to sweep the air in that room,” said the Admiral over his link.  He looked
back at the officer.  “That sword shattered into a million pieces when the
antimatter destroyed the bonding of the macromolecule it was made out of.  Then
you had millions of sharper than razor particles suspended in the air, and breathed
in by the men closest to her.”

“What about the rest of
us?” asked the panicked Marine.

“As soon as we get
another couple of squads down here we are all going to sick bay and get checked
out,” said the Admiral, a queasy feeling in his own stomach as he thought about
what might have gotten through his own suit.  “And I want her taken to a cell
and kept under heavy guard.  As soon as we get her out of that battle armor. 
And I want it as intact as can be.”

The Marine smiled back
as he heard that and started talking into his own link.

The Admiral knew what
the man must be feeling, enough to even forget the fear of possible impending
death. 
If we have those suits we will be unstoppable in ground combat, or
in boarding actions.  There will be nothing those apostate Suryans can do to
compete with us, just as they won’t have a chance in ship to ship when we gain
the tech base of the
Donut.  A smile stretched his face, enough to make him
forget the health hazard he might have breathed in moments before.

*     *     *

Watcher touched onto
the surface of the ship he had come to board, his twenty-nine robots coming in
around him in a symmetrical pattern, six directly around him, ten more around
those, thirteen in the outer ring.  They had converted from cylindrical objects
to bipedal battlebots, while Watcher had collapsed his own cylinder into his
backpack structure. 
Now where could she be
? he thought, looking again
at the schematic that he had gotten from hacking into the ship’s system.

She could be in this
brig system
,
he thought, looking at the amidships section, then grimacing at the
interrogation rooms that were nearby. 
This is interesting
, he thought,
focusing on the cells that popped a manifest below. 
Seventy-eight Suryans. 
Now, what could a military commander do with that extra manpower?

His mind made up,
Watcher sent a signal to two squads of robots, and the twelve machines delinked
from the hull and boosted to another airlock a hundred meters to sternward. 
Watcher signaled the three squads with him and moved to the nearby hatch,
hacking into the system again and locking onto the hatch’s security override. 

Shit
, he thought as the
system rejected his attempt to open the hatch. 
We’ll just see about that.
 
Watcher’s suit extruded a tube from the left forearm that he placed against the
control mechanism, shooting some millions of nanites into the works.  He sent
the signal to the two detached squads to continue their work, and looked on
through his HUD screen.

Each of the robots had
a small store of negative matter onboard, about a kilogram, sealed in a
magnetic bottle.  A couple of the robots were working on the outer hatch,
spraying the negative matter on the metal and cutting through it like a laser,
but without the heat or other effects.  Where negative matter hit matter both
cancelled out, leaving nothing in their places.  The negative matter didn’t
need to cancel all the matter in the area it was sprayed, just enough to
unravel the molecules of matter and create a gap.  Within less than a minute
the hatch was cut through, the robots tossed it into space, and the ship’s
systems still thought there was a closed door on the hull.  The robots moved
three of their number into the lock to place explosive charges on the inner
hatch.  They then moved out and signaled that they were ready.

Watcher’s nanites
signaled that they were ready as well, having infiltrated the locking system. 
He sent a signal to the nanites and the robots both, initiating the action in
simultaneity.  His hatch slid open at the same time as the robots at the other
hatch triggered their device, blowing through the hard alloy of the entrance
and blasting it in pieces into the ready room beyond.  Watcher sent a half
squad of robots through his airlock, which was now under his local control and
not registering as anything but closed to the ship’s systems.  They cycled
through, then the next half squad entered, until two full squads were crowding
the ready room.  Watcher then came through, while his last squad stayed on the
hull as a reserve for both assault groups.

Almost no organic
intelligences were able to truly multitask.  Instead, their brains flipped from
one input-output circuit to the next, simulating the multitasking processors of
AI.  Watcher was the first truly organic brain that could pay attention to
dozens of inputs at the same time, and he used that ability now as he rode herd
on the robots, seeing what they saw and ordering them in real time in
accomplishing their tasks.  Under his direction they acted like organic
intelligences, his own mind providing the problem solving abilities of a better
than human soldier.