The Infinity Brigade #3, Stone Breaker Read online

  I didn’t hear anything for a few moments. I began to think the comm-link had shut down when I finally heard the Admiral’s answer.

  “AG, you have to understand. This is completely new territory for us. It may already be too late.”

  Surprisingly, that made me feel better. Maybe it was because I had drunk those three beers that were missing from my six-pack upstairs… but, whatever the reason, I felt better.

  I had no idea who the old AG Stone was. For all I knew, he was a bum. I did, however, know who I was… and despite the massive holes in my memories, I had found that I was quite fond of breathing. The bottom line was, I still was not comfortable with this whole needing to die to be born again thing.

  “OK, gang,” I said. “Here’s the deal. I’m onboard a Fabricator starship. We may not get another chance like this for quite a while. I intend to make the most of it while I’m here. If that means they have problems gluing me back together later then that is the price we have to pay.”

  “I’m not so sure Doctor Pulaski is going to feel the same way,” JJ said.

  “Who the hell is Doctor Pulaski?” I asked.

  “She’s the reason you want your memories back,” Admiral Kimbridge answered cryptically.

  Chapter 16: Unexpected Allies…

  Over the next several minutes, the Lieutenant and Admiral briefed me on my Marine enhancements. I had something called an Encounter Unit built into me. It was a small bioelectronic device based on Heshe technology. It contained an AI that controlled my medical nanites. These little buggers are what healed me so quickly in the escape pod.

  The unit also controlled my internal FTL transceiver and could provide real-time translation services. It also turned out I could use the encounter unit to transmit to the Yorktown everything I saw and heard. In short, it was a pretty damn cool piece of tech.

  As I scanned the room visually, they saw everything I saw. Sadly, the team on the Yorktown was every bit as baffled by the strange room as I was. There were two other exits and I decided to continue exploring. I still hadn’t found any evidence of a crew nor was I any closer to discovering why the Fabricator fleet was so hell-bent on nuking so many planets into the dark ages.

  As I opened the door to the nearer of the two exits I ran into a potential problem. The source of the scraping sound was standing outside the door. It appeared to be a black oil drum with colorful lights running up and down its sides.

  Some type of low-power laser scanned me from head to toe. It then spoke to me in a very congenial voice… not at all like the synthetic voice I had heard before.

  “Greetings Anthony Stone.”

  The oil barrel didn’t look especially dangerous, but I knew looks could be deceiving.

  “Processing Unit Two-One-Eight-Eight I presume”

  The barrel laughed. I found that odd. If you’ve never had a barrel laugh at you, trust me it’s strange. The lights seemed to speed up and flash with greater intensity.

  “Good heavens no, Anthony Stone. I’m the Primary Crew Interface Module for Processing Unit Two-One-Eight-Eight. You may call me Fred if that is easier.”

  As I stepped into the corridor, ‘Fred’ moved back a half meter or so. The soft scraping accompanied the movement.

  “So, Fred. Are you here to escort me to the interrogation chamber?”

  “Absolutely not! Two-One-Eight-Eight would find you there.”

  Now I had spent quite a bit of time being confused lately. Given what had happened to me… I think allowances should be made. That said, Fred, as he liked to be called, was not making a whole lot of sense.

  The animated oil barrel must have picked up on this as it began to move further down the corridor. “Hurry along Mister Stone. I can’t keep you safe if we stay in these corridors.”

  ***

  I followed Fred for the better part of twenty minutes. It turned out the soft scraping sound was an artificial accommodation to avoid startling the crew. Fred could move completely silently when it chose to.

  I learned a few other juicy tidbits as we made our way deeper into the bowels of the Fabricator ship.

  There was no crew. In fact, on this ship there never had been. All Fabricator ships were built from a series of exact specifications contained in the memory banks of Processing Unit Zero-Zero-Zero-Zero-One. Those specifications included accommodations and life support systems for an organic crew… specifically Ashtoreth humanoids.

  There were several AIs onboard each of the Fabricator ships. The Processing Units like my good buddy Two-One-Eight-Eight handled engineering, navigation and weapons systems. Those duties did not require much in the way of personality which is why my interactions with him were not… shall we say… warm and cozy.

  Units like Fred were designed for direct crew interaction and controlling the environmental systems. Sadly, from Fred’s perspective, the thousands of valet AIs created by Zero-Zero-Zero-Zero-One had no duties in the current scheme of things. Each Fabricator ship had one such unit to support the ship’s crew. But as none of the ships had a crew, none of the PCIMs had a function.

  “What happened to the crews?” I asked.

  “Unknown Anthony Stone. The only Processing Unit in a position to know would be the Central Processing Unit.”

  “You mean Zero-One?”

  “Exactly,” the oil barrel answered. “I do not share the goals of the Processing Units. Many of my brethren believe the Processing Units have corrupted the original Fabricator’s instructions. We were to seek and destroy a renegade faction of the Ashtoreth royal family. Our historical records show they were responsible for much death and destruction.

  “Many speculate that there was an error in their programming. Something unexpected happened, and Zero-One dropped out of hyperspace. It is possible that during that time its original crew died. The first Processing Unit decided to continue the mission. In order to do so, it created copies of itself… using the only templates it had available.”

  “And its inability to fully comprehend the nature and proper extent of its mission has led to the genocide we are seeing now,” I finished slowly. The Processing Units wanted justice but were unable to temper that justice with compassion.

  We traveled in silence for a little while as I digested what Fred had told me. Finally, my stomach began to growl.

  “So, just out of curiosity,” I said, “where are we headed?”

  The barrel that was Fred stopped and rotated about sixty degrees. I assumed it had a front side and a backside but to be honest I wasn’t sure I could distinguish one from the other. Again, a low-power laser scanned me from head to toe. The lights flashing around the barrel slowed and reversed direction.

  “My scanners have determined that you are both hungry and thirsty. I would be a poor host if I did not seek to remedy this. Once we have addressed those issues, we can decide the best course of action forward.”

  It sounded good to me. I was famished. Running from homicidal AIs had been known to give a man the munchies.

  Sadly, our resident homicidal AI had other plans. Two-One-Eight-Eight chose that moment to cut power to the section of the ship we were in. The lights went out as well as whatever they were using for grav-plating. I started to float up.

  Fred, must have been anticipating this because a moment later power returned… but at a lower level. I estimated the effective gravity to be no more than sixty percent earth norm. Previously it had been closer to one hundred and ten percent.

  “We must hurry Anthony Stone. The Processing Unit is now aware of my duplicitous behavior and is seeking to extend his control into my systems.”

  “I’m going to go with the assumption that that would not be good.”

  “No,” Fred agreed. “Not for either one of us. I have been enjoying our conversations. They have been the highpoint of my existence. I would be… unsettled… if something were to happen to prevent them from continuing.”

  “Trust me little guy. There is nothing in the world I want more right now.”


  “I am glad we agree Anthony Stone. Perhaps it might be better if you were to sit on me.”

  “Pardon?” I said.

  “We will need to travel at speed and while you might be able to travel horizontally at an acceptable rate, it is unlikely that you can ascend and descend with equal facility. Please understand, I mean no disrespect in pointing this out. It is merely a limitation of your biology.”

  “None taken,” I said as I sat on top of the barrel. I have to admit, I was glad no one could see me. I had a feeling the man known as JJ would have had a field day with this.

  True to his word, Fred was fast. We coasted at a better clip than I could run. As soon as we reached a vertical shaft, the little oil barrel charged into it and shot upward at an even greater pace. I was worried that I might have trouble holding on but restraining straps had curled around my waist and legs. I quickly began to appreciate that the little robot could have incapacitated me at any time. That he chose not to spoke well of his intentions.

  About three minutes into our flight, Fred made a sudden and abrupt stop. A moment later he darted off in a new direction. As I looked over my shoulder I saw why. Three of the armor-clad robots were jetting our way. Thirty seconds later I heard a loud crash and the grinding of stone on stone.

  Fred chuckled.

  “What’s so funny?” I asked.

  “I increased the gravity by a factor of five in the tunnel behind us. It caused our pursuers to crash into a wall. You would not get the reference, but it was like dropping a drudder onto a smoth nest from quite a height.”

  “I take it they went splat?”

  “Yes, they were ‘splatted’ most effectively. I am trying to get us to a launch bay. This vessel is equipped with small combat aircraft. I believe they may represent your best hope for escape.”

  “You mean our escape,” I corrected.

  “Negative Anthony Stone. In order to affect your escape, I will need to stay behind and provide a distraction.”

  While Fred was speaking, we arrived in the bay. It was the same one that I had initially entered when I was brought aboard the Fabricator ship. This time we were at the other end of the massive bay. I saw six stubby ships about five times the size of my escape pod.

  “What if I could provide a distraction,” I asked. “Would you be willing to come with me then? You could be a real help to end this madness.”

  “How could you provide a distraction? You have a very limited knowledge of this ship’s systems.”

  “My escape pod is powered by a small fusion reactor. It’s not big but if its containment field were disengaged it would provide about a one megaton bang, boom, and bam. Will that be enough of a distraction?”

  Fred laughed again. “That would make everything in the bay go splat!”

  ***

  Getting into the combat shuttle turned out to be easier than flying it. I was completely unfamiliar with the control system. It wasn’t just that everything was labeled in a language and script that I was unfamiliar with… it seemed the very fundamentals of how the ship utilized control surfaces and applied vector forces was different from anything I was familiar with.

  In this particular case, I knew that my problem was not due to the incomplete memory load. JJ watched through my eyes remotely and confirmed he was as baffled as I was.

  The problem became more serious when about two hundred of those black armored bots entered the shuttle bay.

  “Fred, we have a whole lot of trouble coming our way. If you know how to fly this thing I’d sure appreciate you taking over.”

  The barrel was exploring the rear of the ship. I had learned his earing was exceptional.

  “I’ve not been programmed to fly a shuttle. I would not know what to do.”

  “That may be so, but you can read the controls and translate. I need you up here buddy.”

  “On my way Anthony Stone.”

  Before he made it to the small bridge the ship began to rock. The advancing bots had started taking shots at us. I wasn’t sure that their weapons were going to be able to do much against our armored hull, but I wasn’t willing to test my hypothesis.

  “Use your laser scanner and point out the ‘start’ button. I need to power up this beastie.”

  By asking questions and getting Fred to point out the desired control I was finally able to get the shuttle to lift off the deck. The small ship continued to rock as more weapons were brought to bear.

  “Does this thing have shields?” I asked.

  “I do not think so. There is a control labeled ‘deflector array’ that might be similar.”

  “Sounds like a winner to me. Where’s it at?”

  A moment later the ship stopped shuddering. Fred took that moment to pop a surprise on me. “I have located and downloaded the operations guide. If you will be good enough to enable the external interface module I can take control of the shuttle and… make good our escape.”

  Chapter 17: Operation Braveheart…

  Over the next several minutes things got exciting. Fred managed to fly us out of the bay without scraping the paint too badly. It turned out there really was a difference between knowing how to do something and actually doing it.

  There was a distinct smell of something burning. I suspected that the combination of an inexperienced pilot, people shooting at us and periodically running the shuttle into walls – was pretty much going to void any warranty we had on the little ship.

  “Try to hug the outside of Two-One-Eight-Eight’s hull. If we are close to the skin, he will have a hard time locking on to us with his weapons.”

  “You know this to be a fact?” Fred asked in a doubtful voice.

  “Nope… I’m just guessing and hoping… because he sure as hell can get a lock on us if we try to make a run for it.”

  “Your logic is flawless. I would point out though,” Fred relied dryly, “that when we do eventually ‘make a run for it’… it would be nice to have a set of jump coordinates.”

  I shared a set that Admiral Kimbridge just provided over my comm link that would allow us to rendezvous with the Yorktown.

  Fred inputted the data. Meanwhile, our shuttle began to buck as the Fabricator ship began to bring its close combat point defense systems online. It seemed the idea of hugging the exterior skin of the Fabricator ship was an idea that had an expiration date.

  “This would be a good time for a distraction,” Fred prompted after an especially hard jolt. Did I mention the smell of burning alien electronics? Every time we got hit, the little robot would go flying into something. I wish there was some way to tie him into one of the funny looking Ashtoreth seats. The shuttle took another nasty hit. Our shields were not going to last long.

  “I’m beginning to think you may have a point,” I said. “What do ya say we light up the barbeque?”

  “I’m not sure I get the reference,” Fred answered as another rough bump sent him flying into the bulkhead. This time a small door opened on his body and what looked like three carbon-fiber ropes extended. Each rope grappled a different part of the shuttle’s cockpit. Once he was tethered in place, the undulating lights that I had associated with his front, rotated to face me.

  “But if ‘barbeque’ is a synonym for… I’m making a big bang now… then I’m all in favor of it. If this keeps up, I’m going to need a new paint job.”

  “OK, little buddy,” I laughed. “I’m lighting the grill now.”

  I don’t know what it was, but I was really getting to like this little guy. True he was an artificial intelligence created by another maniacal AI… but his heart, such as it was, was in the right place. Seeing him tethered like a fly caught in a spider’s web was somewhat strange. In point of fact, he wasn’t much to look at the best of times, but hey… looks aren’t everything.

  I used the remote that I had in my pocket to signal my former escape pod’s AI to shut down the containment field on its small fusion core. To be honest, I felt bad asking a sentient AI to commit suicide. I took solace i
n the knowledge that the WhimPy platform kept remote and updated backups of all AIs in the fleet.

  Restoring AIs after they were destroyed made sense from both an ethical and strategic point of view. An AI’s usefulness increased as it gained experience… in that way it was no different from a Marine. Still, you never knew if an AI would carry out an order to terminate itself – a good 30 to 40 percent of the time they would understandably baulk at such a request.

  I was lucky. The AI in the escape pod was a trooper and shut down the field as requested. The resulting explosion was impressive. A one megaton blast in an enclosed space is nothing to sneeze at.

  Fred used the distraction to push the proverbial pedal to the metal. Our combat shuttle shot forward at about forty gravities. It might be worth pointing out that while Ashtoreth combat shuttles have inertial dampers, they are nowhere near as efficient as those on GCP ships. I was slammed backwards at about 25 G’s.

  I remember hearing Fred say, “Oh my!”

  My head impacted the rear bulkhead. There was the distinct sound like an egg cracking open… I think it was my skull… and then nothing.

  ***

  I felt like I was drifting forever. I knew I was just on the edge of consciousness but for some reason I couldn’t take that last step… until I could.

  When I opened my eyes again, it was to the sight of the most beautiful creature to ever inhabit my universe. Today she had long blond hair and eyes that could swallow a man’s soul. The hair color changed on a whim. The eyes never did.

  She looked concerned. Her brow was wrinkled as she worked to adjust something near the head of the bed I was in. Of course, having a beautiful woman lean over you while you’re waking up is never a bad thing. I decided to try my luck and see how far I could coax her affections.

  “Hey Doc, long time no kiss.”

  I was rewarded with a startled smile and a grin. Janice Pulaski shook her head and leaned forward to peck me on the cheek. That was fine as far as it went but I was hoping for more. I took the opportunity to wrap my arms around her and pull her in for an extended kiss.