Bishop's Gambit Omnibus Page 5

  “Agreed,” whispered Sami. “Although the damage is severe, it is repairable with components you have on hand.”

  Yeah, but it won't be ready before the pirates arrive tomorrow…

  “Alas, it will not be. However, the Grey Wolf looks to be in fighting shape. The turrets are functional and still have ammunition. The pirates will be shocked when they arrive.”

  Good point. I brought up the turret control interface, and the system came to life. Sensory data flooded my senses, and I had a moment of vertigo. It passed quickly; however, it was pretty severe. How long will it take to get used to full resolution?

  “At your current rate of progress, approximately three months,” whispered Sami.

  The main sensor array was next on my list. I powered it up, and had I been standing, I would have fallen flat on my ass. The vertigo was overwhelming, and it felt like I was staring wide-eyed at the sun without a visor. An eternity later, I could see through the sensors.

  “I did warn you that you’d be overwhelmed at forty percent, did I not?” asked Sami.

  Yeah, yeah, don’t need the lecture right now. I could have sworn I heard a chuckle in my mind. I looked out of the sensors as far as I could in every direction. I found the three pirate ships off in the distance. A few hours behind them was a bigger problem. “Steve, Anne, I found the pirates on sensors. They uh…they brought more friends,” I said.

  “How many?” asked Steve over the crackling comms.

  “Um,” I said. “All of them?”

  They both started asking questions and demanding answers; however, with the crackling of the comms, I couldn’t make out what they were saying.

  Any idea what’s with the comms?

  “Whatever they are storing in the deck without sensors is interfering with the comms. You will have to physically go there. It seems as if a secret was intentionally being kept,” whispered Sami.

  I checked the engines and found them to be ready and waiting. “Firing the engines,” I said. I didn’t wait for a response. Even at twenty percent, the engines were massively powerful. Inertial information and hull stress indicators started to bombard my sensory cortex. As I looked at them, their meanings became clear. Seems the ship is space-worthy.

  “Indeed,” whispered Sami.

  I pulled the nose of the Grey Wolf to starboard ninety degrees away from the pirates with the moon behind us. “I’m moving the ship. Hopefully, they’ll have to come looking for us instead of finding the freighter where they left it,” I said.

  “What are we going to do when they find us?” asked Anne.

  “Let the turrets deal with them. Although, I plan on firing the rail cannon at them a few times before they get that close.”

  “Rail cannon?” asked Anne. “Did I hear you right? Did I hear him right? This thing has a rail cannon?”

  “Apparently. According to what I’m seeing, they replaced one of the four mass drivers with a rail cannon. Oh, I forgot, the pirates will be here a lot sooner than we thought.”

  “How soon?” she asked.

  “Maybe ten hours? Maybe a little more if we’re lucky.”

  “That’s not a lot of time,” said Steve.

  I increased the engine output to maximum. I heard a couple shouts of surprise over the comms. I checked the sensor array. “I’m pretty sure they can’t see us yet. They’re still heading straight for where we were. They’ll have to make a course correction once they come into sensor range.”

  “Good,” said Steve. “That’s something, at least. Should buy us a little more time.”

  Sami, how good is a rail cannon?

  “Excellent, however, there will be a considerable power drain when it is fired,” he whispered.

  Can we hit them from here?

  “Most assuredly. Are you considering preemptively attacking?” he asked.

  Yes, I am. I began rotating the ship toward my target.

  “Excellent strategy,” he whispered. “It seems you are quite capable of learning on your own. Perhaps I will give you a little more knowledge.” Targeting information flooded my senses as I focused on the rail cannon.

  Whoa. New strategies instantly began coalescing in my mind. It’s like you gave me a boost to my planning ability.

  “I only gave you a taste of what is in my databanks. It does seem, however, that you are able to apply new data on the fly, so to speak,” he whispered. “I am curious to what extent you can adapt.”

  No idea, but I’m liking it so far. Here we go.

  “I’m taking a shot at the pirates,” I said.

  “You’re doing what?” asked Anne. “You said they were ten hours away.”

  “Yup,” I said. “There might be a power drain after I fire. Worst-case scenario, I miss. Either way, I need to know what kind of drains we’re looking at.”

  “Targeting window available,” whispered Sami.

  I focused on the targeting system. Maps and trajectories flooded my mind with firing solutions from eight different angles. I picked the one with the smallest course correction and lined the ship up with it. “Firing,” I said.

  I could feel the energy buildup from the railgun. And with it, an ear-splitting howl of rage. Someone on the comms said something, but I couldn’t make out the words over the massive burst of static. What the hell was that?

  “Unknown,” whispered Sami. “However, it emanated from the lower deck.”

  Let me guess… The deck without sensors?

  “You catch on quick. Yes,” he answered.

  The railgun fired. More bursts of static pounded against my senses. I ignored them and focused on the projectile. The sensors honed in on it and the pirates. Sensory overlays filled my mind as the thirty ships flying in formation and the rail projectile both approached each other. The energized projectile was closing in on its target at near the speed of light, and the pirates had no clue.

  11

  The projectile slammed into the formation at a forty-five-degree angle. Seven of the red blips blinked brightly and then ceased to exist. The formation scattered in every direction as they took evasive maneuvers. Had I not been in a Dive inside the neural interface, my jaw would probably be on the ground.

  Can we fire again?

  “Negative. Only one projectile was loaded in the rail cannon. Manual intervention is required,” he whispered.

  Guess we’ll have to get our hands dirty then.

  “Yes. What better use for a human than to effect change on behalf of an AI,” he whispered. Again, I thought I heard a chuckle in my mind. I’d have shaken my head if I had one. I pointed the ship back on its original course and cranked the engines back up to maximum.

  I ended the neural interface connection and removed my helmet. I opened my eyes to find Anne and Steve both inside the Strider. The doors were sealed, and they looked absolutely terrified.

  “What the hell is wrong with you two?” I asked, confused.

  “There was a massive howl that shook the deck,” blurted Anne.

  “Bishop, there's something on this ship,” said Steve.

  “I know,” I said. “I felt it when I fired the rail cannon.”

  “What is it?” asked Steve.

  I shrugged. “No clue. But I'll give you one guess where it came from.”

  “The sensory dead zone,” he said flatly.

  “Got it in one,” I said.

  “So, can we leave now?” asked Anne. Steve frowned. I shook my head. “Didn't think so. What are we doing next then?”

  “Well,” I said. “That rail cannon blast took out seven of the pirate ships and scattered their formation. I think it might have bought us a few more hours. And Sami is rebuilding the captain's journal.” Steve's eyebrow shot up.

  Anne grew concerned. “Who is Sami?” she asked.

  “Oh, right,” I said. “He's an AI construct in that military processor. It seems since I passed a certain threshold on the resolution that we can communicate.”

  “Huh,” said Steve. “Neat. How long
until the journal is recovered?”

  “I'm not sure. It only took a few minutes to break the pirate's encrypted streams. But I guess recovering video files takes longer.”

  Steve nodded. “Makes sense. With encryption, the data is there, just scrambled, not missing entirety.”

  The console beeped an incoming transmission. “What the hell?” asked Anne.

  “What? I asked.

  “The comms are down. We shouldn't be receiving anything.”

  Curious, Steve moved to the console and hit ACCEPT TRANSMISSION.

  “Greetings, incompetent humans. The captain's journal has been reconstructed as best as possible. I daresay you will be unpleasantly surprised at the contents within.”

  “Is that Sami?” asked Anne.

  I nodded. “Yup. Still a smart-ass too.”

  “And coincidentally enough, I still do not care,” berated Sami.

  Steve laughed. “I kinda like his attitude,” he said

  “Ahh, you must be the wiser of the group. Excellent. Would you like to see the journal?” asked Sami.

  “Definitely,” said Steve.

  “Yes, please,” said Anne.

  “Oh, and this one has manners,” said Sami. “I think I like this one as well…”

  “Let's see it,” I said.

  “That one maybe not so much,” he said. This time he did chuckle out loud. I glared at the console. “No doubt you are currently glaring at the console. That is a futile act, and it will not insult my superior intelligence. Behold, puny Human. The information you seek.”

  The main view screen flickered, and a distinguished-looking man, perhaps in his sixties, appeared. He looked exhausted and worn down but still strong and willful. This was a man who got results and didn't take no for an answer.

  “It’s come to my attention through my first officer, that some of the crew aren’t convinced what we’re doing is the best choice. They’re scared. I can’t blame them, but I do expect my orders to be followed.”

  The screen turned to static for a few moments and resumed.

  “... cannon was installed this evening. The power requirements are staggering, but the eggheads are positive we can pull this off. Or blow up the ship, I guess we’ll see which—”

  The picture died again, replaced by more static, and then the next entry began to play.

  “They managed to capture the beast and have transferred it into the secondary cargo hold. I can’t say I like it on my ship any more than anyone else; however, I understand the need. One day, we’ll need to defend against these mons—”

  More static was followed by more video.

  “They tested it today. The rail cannon fired, and there were no issues. The only side effect is a deafening wail which shakes the ship. I tell you, that noise will haunt my nightmares for the rest of my life. One of the older crew members actually suffered a heart attack. He’s stable now, but it was touch and go for a bit.”

  The screen went black.

  “The colonial leadership has lost their minds. We received orders today to abandon the Grey Wolf. They plan to use it to store excess supplies and say they no longer need this vessel to be operational. The orders lately have been getting more and more bizarre. Last week, they ordered us to a skeleton crew. I’ve not been able to contact any of the crew who’ve left. Rumors are reaching back to us that their transport was attacked, but no confirmation yet.”

  The screen went black again.

  “This will be the last entry. We’re abandoning ship, per the colonial leadership. I suppose this journal is now pointless since the eggheads will be scrubbing the computers once we’re done packing up, but old habits die hard.” The captain turned and faced the camera head-on. “If by some chance someone recovers this someday…be wary. Do not trust the leadership. I uncovered evidence that the rest of the crew were executed. In fact, everyone involved in this project has been. My first officer and his fiancée were leaving the colony just yesterday. Their ship was attacked and destroyed by pirates. So many losses, just to cover up some top-secret R&D project.” He sighed. “This is likely the last time I’ll be able to speak to anyone. If you find this, use the ship. Take back the colony.”

  END RECORD.

  We stood in stunned silence as we processed what we’d just seen. Even Sami was quiet. I wasn’t sure exactly what I should be feeling right now. I was confused, shocked, and angry, all at the same time.

  “So,” said Anne, finally breaking the silence. “What now?”

  “I’m not sure,” I said. I looked at Steve. He was visibly shaking, and a vein was pulsing in his temple. “Steve? Are you okay?”

  “No,” he growled as he tried to get his breathing under control. “I’m not.” He grabbed the pipe and opened the hatch on the side of the Strider.

  “Where are you going?” I asked.

  “To the secondary cargo hold,” he said. “It’s time I go find out what the hell was worth my sister’s life.” He stormed out of the ship without looking back.

  “Damn,” I said.

  “What?” asked Anne.

  I sighed. “The fiancée,” I said. “The first officer’s fiancée. It was Steve’s sister…”

  “Oh,” said Anne. “Oh, no, poor Steve.” Tears started running down the side of her face. I put my hand on her shoulder for a moment and then ran out of the Strider after Steve.

  12

  I caught up to him at the cargo lift. A quick look at the panel told me it was moving from somewhere above us. “Hey,” I said. “Wait for me.”

  “Not like I have much choice,” he said. He kicked the lift door.

  “What do you think we’ll find down there?” I asked.

  He was silent for a moment. “I’m not really sure. Answers, I hope.” I heard the lift come to a stop, and the doors slid open. We rode the lift down to the secondary storage bay in silence. As the doors opened, the lights blinked on a section at a time.

  “Do you feel that tension in the air?” I asked as we stepped off the lift.

  “I can taste it,” said Steve. “What the hell were they storing down here?”

  “I'm not even sure I want to find out, honestly,” I said.

  “Don't be a wimp, Bishop.” He led the way down the corridor.

  “So,” I said, “I know I'm not exactly the most educated, but whatever’s down here must be pretty big. I mean, politically speaking, right?”

  Steve nodded. “You're catching on. Yeah. If it was worth killing the entire crew and hiding the ship and planning an entire cover-up operation involving pirates… I'd say so.” We reached a door at the end of the corridor, and Steve pressed the open button. Nothing happened.

  “Well?” I asked.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “It won’t open.”

  “Maybe you did it wrong?” I asked.

  Steve glared at me. “What? Did I press button wrong?” he asked.

  I shrugged as I removed a set of small tools from my pocket. “Give me a minute.” I removed the control panel and disconnected the wires from the back of the switch. I crossed the wires, and a loud clunk reverberated throughout the corridor from the door. “I think the switch was just fried,” I said.

  Steve opened the door with the intent to quickly enter the room. He stopped short and froze, back straight like a rod. I slammed into him.

  “Ow, why’d you stop?”

  Steve rounded on me, ever so slowly, and covered my mouth. He quickly pushed me back from the door and spun me around, slamming me into the wall, well clear of the doorframe. “Shh,” he hissed. His eyes were wide with terror. The tension in the air was palpable now. I nodded, and he released his grip on my face.

  Slowly, I snuck to the door and peeked around the corner. My blood went cold. My knees and my body started to shake. I was frozen in place. Steve pulled me back slowly. He looked me in the eyes and nodded.

  “That's a bloody Sentinel!” I hissed.

  “Shh!” hissed Steve. His hands were shaking as he held me pinn
ed to the wall. “Oh, sorry.” He let go of me, and I slouched to the floor. Apparently, it was his hands rather than my legs that had been holding me up.

  “What are we going to do?” I asked.

  “I have no idea,” he said. He took a peek around the corner again and paused. “Bishop, come here and look at this.”

  “Hell no,” I breathed. “I’m not going near that door again.”

  “Get over here, man,” he said a bit more forcefully. He didn’t look like he was as concerned anymore.

  “What?” I’d managed to get my feet under me and leaned around the doorframe next to him. The Sentinel was restrained with some kind of metal bands to a pedestal in the middle of the docking bay. “Whoa.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “I don’t think it’s going anywhere…” Steve relaxed a bit, and I cautiously followed him into the room.

  The tentacles were bolted to large metal pieces with cabling and circuity, all routed to the far end of the room. It couldn’t move if it tried. “It’s still alive, right?” I asked.

  “I’m pretty sure this thing isn’t really alive to begin with. This is all mechanical,” he said, examining the Sentinel. We moved over to a display console with graphs for each tentacle. The hairs on my skin stood up, and I could see small sparks of static arcing around them. I got a pretty good shock when I touched the console. “According to this, the core is the only thing alive. And they’re feeding it some sort of immuno-acid solution from that tank over there.” He pointed at a massive tank in the corner. Piping ran from the tank to the Sentinel’s back and inside an access panel.

  “This is insane,” I said.

  “And worth killing an entire crew over,” said Steve. “Capturing a Sentinel and using it as a power source? Can you imagine the backlash if—No, when they’re discovered? This is what we needed to bring down the leadership.”

  “First, we have to survive the pirates,” I said. “They might be wary to come at us head-on now, but they’re still going to come.”