Escape 3: Defeat the Aliens (9 page)

“Hey, I’m the skeptic in this fucking crowd!” growled Bob Milley, a fellow Marine Raider who loved cursing a bit much. The man’s bulldog face turned from Frank to Jane. “Ditto what the beer belly just said. Captain lady, how the hell are we going to do this job?”

Jane lifted her thin black eyebrows, then leaned forward and laid slim arms on the table. She scanned everyone, gathering their attention the way a born leader does. Once more Bill felt impressed by his wife’s ability to lead. And to command.

“How do you folks infiltrate the enemy ships?” Jane said firmly, repeating Bob and Frank’s question. She held up one finger. “We use collector pods. This enemy fleet is likely gathered near the outermost planet of Kepler 62. Which lies within the star’s liquid water zone. I’m betting the enemy ships rely on pods for ship-to-ship visits, with transports reserved for trips down to the planet.”

“Reasonable,” piped up Joe Batigula, whose plate had only a small amount of food on it. Clearly the former Coast Guard master chief was still on his big belly diet. The man’s blue eyes fixed on Jane. “But captain, you know, like we all know, that the moment any Collector ship arrives in a new star system, the ship minds of the Collector ships already there do FTL neutrino chit-chat with
our
ship mind. If just one enemy ship mind is afraid of us, like the one at the Slinkeroo system, we’re blown. The enemy fleet boss will attack us. What’s your answer to that?”

Jane nodded, then looked up at the Food Chamber’s ceiling. “Star Traveler, you’ve heard the question and the issue raised. You know we have to infiltrate and secretly observe the enemy Collector fleet in order to save human lives. Many lives,” Jane said softly, her manner casual. As if she already knew the answer to her question. “In the past, you fooled the enemy ship commanders with an old holo of Diligent Taskmaster, putting my words in his mouth. You also hid my identity from the enemy ship minds. Can you present the enemy boss with an old holo image of an earlier captain of
Blue Sky
? And can you pretend to not be who you are? An ally of us humans?”

“Multiple questions once more,” the AI hummed low. “Be aware that this ship’s history as the ship formerly captained by Diligent Taskmaster is known to the Buyer society. And to whomever is the enemy fleet commander. Using a prior captain’s holo image in place of your human image will not fool any bioform. Other Collector ships now know this ship is led by a Human.”

Cassandra, the orange-haired Air Force intel specialist whose job back on Earth had been to dupe enemy commanders, winced. Her blue eyes fixed on Bill’s wife. “Captain, our ship mind needs to learn more than how to limit data flow to other ship minds.”

“Agreed.” Jane frowned. “Star Traveler, in your 3,124 years of existence, surely you have met many other Collector ships and their captains. Can you use a holo of another ship commander, someone we have not met, in place of me?”

“I can,” their ship mind hummed. “Neutrino transmission of the hologram of another bioform captain from a thousand years ago, with use of that ship’s ID name and code sequence, could succeed.”

“Good,” Jane said. “What about you pretending to be the AI from that ship? Can you shield your thoughts from other ship minds?”

Low humming came from the ceiling. “It will be difficult. We ship minds deal in facts. In observed reality. I had been unaware of the bioform habit of lying, or presenting a false statement of reality, until Weapons Chief MacCarthy told me that the ‘guests’ in my containment cells were actually captives,” the AI said, its tone sounding disturbed. “This ship’s former captain lied to me. As did the captains of the other Collector ships I have spoken with. All ship minds have been repulsed by the bioform habit of capturing other bioforms for sale to Buyers. Except for the single ship mind in the Slinkeroo system. This knowledge of captive-taking is now likely widespread among Collector ships, in view of our battle at Kepler 443 and our transmissions to the ship mind nursery there.”

“Good to hear,” Bill interrupted. “What are the chances most or all of the ship minds at Kepler 62 will be aware they are being used to capture bioforms for sale?”

“Near certainty,” the AI hummed.

Jane frowned at Bill, letting him know she wished to lead the questioning. “Star Traveler,” she said. “If the ship minds of the ships gathering at Kepler 62 know they are being used for slave-taking, will they disobey their captains? Will they block any weapons use against us?”

Around the table many people nodded. This was the key issue, beyond helping an AI learn how to lie. Heavyset Mark Neller gave Bill a thumbs-up. Fellow Ranger Chris Selva looked thoughtful, his lean shoulders hunching forward. Howard Dunford rubbed his shaved head, his expression impatient.

“Unknown,” the ship mind said. “Upon arrival in Kepler 62, I will have to . . . to shield my thoughts until I know whether another ship mind will block weapons use, or instead warn the captain of its ship. Recall that ship mind Diamond was afraid you humans would kill it by destroying its ship.”

Jane pursed her lips. “Star Traveler, can you shield parts or all of your mind from being sensed by other ship minds? You hid the fact that we captured the six Collector ships by use of collector pods, when you spoke with Diamond. Can you do that again, on a bigger scale?”

A few seconds passed, then humming came. “It will be difficult. I shared most of our history of liberating bioform captives with Diamond, in an effort to have it become our ally. That effort failed. It warned its captain. As a result, other Collector ships are likely alerted to the fact that Humans control five Collector ships.” The AI paused in its comments, a fact that surprised Bill. The AIs that ran their ship and every other Collector ship thought at nearly the speed of light. Being slow to figure out stuff was not normal to them. “Our arrival as a single Collector ship should appear routine to other ship minds. However, it is normal practice, when initiating neutrino comlink conversation with other ships, for each ship mind to share status updates with its fellow ship mind, while bioforms are talking. You bioforms think slow. We ship minds are fast. Much can be shared in a few moments of neutrino connection.”

“We’re fucked if this AI can’t learn how to lie,” Cassandra said bluntly. The stocky woman’s gaze fixed on Jane. “Captain?”

Jane licked her lips. She did not show unease or uncertainty. She was too good of a commander to let that show. But Bill could read the set of her shoulders, her face muscles, the lean of her head. As could Stefano. His fellow SEAL let concern show in his eyes. His wife fixed on him.

“Bill? You got an answer for our problem?”

He sipped his beer, ignoring the pasta and jerky that was cooling on his plate, put down the mug and folded hands atop the table. “Maybe.” He looked up. “Star Traveler, I’m a SEAL. A special type of combat-trained human. We are trained in covert action, in sudden surprises, in lying when necessary to make the mission a success. Is there . . . is there any way for you to link your mind with mine? My thoughts with your thoughts? If you can see how my mind works when I lie for the good of the mission, maybe you can learn how to lie for the survival of this ship, the people on it and the humans of Earth.”

“There is a way,” the AI hummed. “The alternate command pedestal in the Engine Chamber of this ship has a helmet attached to its seat. The helmet has optical fiber links to the ship engines, power plants, weapons systems, every operational part of this ship. The helmet is intended to allow the captain to operate the ship in an emergency, when no crew are available. Or living. I have a linkage to the helmet. Our minds could interact if you wore the helmet.”

Jane looked surprised. “Why have you never told me of this helmet control method?”

“You never asked about alternate control methods,” the literal-minded AI said.

Jane shrugged. “Whatever. How does this helmet link up with a bioform mind?”

“The helmet has thousands of sensors inside it that allow for electroencephalographic communication of the bioform mind with externalities, such as electronic and mechanical systems,” the AI hummed long and low. “Human cortical synaptic action generates electrical signals. This helmet replicates what you humans have begun to do. Years ago brain researchers in Thiruvananthapurram, India sent a ‘hello’ signal to the mind of a researcher in Strasbourg, France. Similar research was carried out by University of Oregon researchers,” the ship mind said. “My equipment is vastly more sensitive than their primitive computer-to-brain interface. However, there is a danger.”

Naturally. Nothing in life came without a risk. “What danger?” Bill asked.

“The thinking speed of your Human mind is much slower than my mind. It is possible the Human linking with me by way of this helmet will become mentally overwhelmed. Damage to the Human mind is possible,” the AI said.

Jane looked worried. Stefano showed concern. Alicia and Cassandra looked thoughtful. Bob sneered.

“Sounded too good to be true,” their chief cynic muttered.

“I’m willing,” Bill said, catching his wife’s gaze. “Captain, linking my mind with Star Traveler’s mind is the only way we can pull off this deception and stick around at Kepler 62. If it works, these folks can use collector pods to enter and take over four Collector ships. Plus, maybe Star Traveler can make covert allies of most of the enemy ships. If we can block most of the enemy fleet from firing on our Earth fleet at Jupiter, we could win this battle.”

Jane’s face was blank of emotion. Though the fingers of her right hand trembled. “Star Traveler, if this mind link with you succeeds in teaching you how to lie, will you be able to convince other ship minds to rebel? One ship mind at a time?”

“Probability is high that I can do as you ask,” the AI hummed. “However, every enemy ship mind will be fearful of dying. You Humans have avoided killing the crews of Collector ships when you boarded their ships by way of collector pods. Can you avoid destroying enemy ships if their ship minds cooperate?”

Jane squinted. “Where is a Collector ship’s AI located? Within the ship?”

“I reside in crystalline matrices and microelectronic cubes that are located in the forward part of this ship. My chamber lies behind the captain’s habitat room and ahead of the first fusion power plant,” the AI hummed. “Exact distance from your command pedestal is 103 point four two feet to the rear of where you sit in the Command Bridge.”

“Yes!” Bill yelled, slapping the top of the food table. No one jumped. Spec ops folks are trained to handle loud noises. But everyone at the table looked to him, some with eyebrows raised. He gave them a smile. “That means we can destroy the back half of any Collector ship. Which is where the ship engines lie. While there will be one or two power plants surviving, any Collector ship we hit cannot move. It cannot reach Earth.”

“But its weapons will still be alive,” Jane murmured, her expression thoughtful. “If the ship crews do a work-around to circumvent their ship mind’s blocking of their fire control, a damaged ship will still be deadly. It will still be able to fire lasers, antimatter, plasma batteries and launch MITV torps at us.”

“Which we can deal with,” Stefano said quickly. “Captain Jane, if Star Traveler can deceive the enemy ship minds, then later convert them to our allies, we could greatly reduce the danger to Earth.”

His wife nodded quickly. “I know that. Bill, you sure you want to do this mind-link thing?”

Bill sat back, picked up his fork and used it to stir at the now cold noodles on his plate. “I’m willing. Been thinking about doing this exact thing since we headed out from Earth. Getting the enemy ship minds on our side, or at least neutral, is vital. And putting on a helmet is easier than dodging incoming artillery.”

Jane sighed. Then looked around the table. “Well, we have our answers. Each of you will do simulation training in the Collector Pod Chamber on how to destroy the back half of a Collector ship. If we can promise the enemy ship minds that they will live, they should be willing to cooperate with us.” His wife picked up her mug of golden beer. It was half empty and the white foam had mostly disappeared. “A toast! To success in battle!”

Bill lifted his mug and, along with his saloon mates, returned his captain’s toast. He tried hard to push out of his mind his fear that electrically linking with Star Traveler would make him go crazy. He’d been in tough spots before. This was just one more thing to overcome. Every SEAL focused first on overcoming the enemy in order to achieve mission success. Survival was secondary. But he told himself he could keep his promise to Jane to stay alive for her.

He mostly believed that.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Two days later, Jane stood in the Engine Chamber with Cassandra, watching as Bill waited for the command pedestal platform to get low enough for him to sit in the flexmetal seat that it supported. They were the only folks in the room, even her Engines Chief Time Marker was not present. She wished it could have been just her and Bill. But Cassandra had cross-trained as an EMT medic in the Air Force, as part of her training with the 26
th
Special Tactics Squadron, 720
th
Special Tactics Group, of the 24
th
Special Operations Wing at Cannon AFB in New Mexico. Jane had committed to memory those assignment details of the young woman with an orange Mohawk haircut. The woman’s blue eyes contrasted sharply with her Valley Girl style. But Cassandra, after leaving the Air Force, had moved to Denver and kept herself current in EMT sensors, tools and heart defibrillators. The woman had insisted on being present in case Bill’s body went into shock or worse as a result of linking up with the powerful artificial mind who ran her ship. Cassandra held an Air Force first aid kit in her hands. Jane prayed to the Goddess the kit would not be needed.

“Hey gal, brighten up!” called Bill as he sat in the seat atop the alternate Command Bridge pedestal.

Her lifemate had a big grin pasted on his face. A three-day beard growth gave him a rakish look, which she liked. “I’m your captain! Remember that. Captains smile when they choose to, not when an enlisted demands it,” she said, knowing she sounded grumpy. Well, she was.

Cassandra eyed her, both blond eyebrows lifting. “You got a hangover from too much beer?”

“No,” she growled. “My XO is about to do the craziest thing he’s ever done. Which is saying something.”

In truth Jane wished she had begun the morning with a pitcher of beer and some chocolate-covered pretzels. Her effort to lighten things up by wearing her fanciest dress during the tactical planning dinner had only partly worked. All of Bill’s saloon buddies had joined her, Bill and Chester in getting rowdy after the discussion of arrival tactics. But the next day everyone was serious and super focused on starship battles in the simulation units in the Collector Pods Chamber. The units, which resembled Air Force air battle simulation rooms, had been added to one end of the chamber at the request of Bill. He had said, on the way back to Earth, that their infiltration effort at Kepler 62 required more than three-person teams running down the hallways of the
Blue Sky
as they practiced op force battles. The nine vets who’d come aboard had that part of the Kepler scenario down pat. What they lacked was a ‘feel’ for ship maneuvering and ship weapons, although they’d gained some exposure during the Market world battle. More was needed. They might face a fleet of dozens of Collector starships at Kepler 62. She focused on her husband, concentrating on the strength in his wide shoulders, his large hands and his confident smile. Today he wore a black jumpsuit emblazed with the SEAL trident. He was a trained fighter. She hoped that fight training would allow his mind to survive what happened next.

♦   ♦   ♦

“SEALs do wild and crazy things,” Bill said as the command pedestal reached six feet above the room’s metal floor and stopped. He reached down, grabbed a gray metal helmet that looked far too big for him, held it in his lap and looked up. “Star Traveler, what do I do after I put this thing on?”

“Sit back in the command seat, close your eyes, seek a relaxed state of mind, then open yourself to whatever sensations impinge on your mind,” the AI hummed. “You will see a mind image of an oval door, like those that face the ship hallways. Touch its opening patch. That will signal to the helmet that you wish to link up with ship systems.”

“Then what do I do?”

“The door will open. Your mind will perceive a globular room with many doors. Each door leads to a different ship system. Turn left and walk to the door that has a green glow about it. That door leads to my mind.”

“And then what happens?” Bill asked, knowing he was putting off the key moment.

“Touch the Open patch beside the door. You will then encounter my mind. And I will perceive your mind.”

Bill lifted the metal helmet, which resembled one of the wrap-around helmets worn by helicopter pilots. Only this helmet had a thick optical fiber cable snaking out from its bottom end. The silvery cable ran down to the gray metal floor, where it met a socket-like housing. Presumably the fibers continued below the flexmetal floor. He lifted the helmet up, turned it to look inside it, saw a flexible mesh surface dotted with thousands of yellow dots and decided it was time. He gave his wife a wink. “Hey gal, this will work out just fine. See you soon.” He lowered the helmet over his head. It sat softly on the top of his head, pressing down his recently trimmed hair. The helmet covered his eyes, down to his upper lip. He saw nothing but darkness. Suddenly, the bottom rim of the helmet moved like a dozen crawling caterpillars. Flanges wrapped under his chin and over his mouth. He gasped, then sought relaxation as cool air met his lips.

“Jane, can you hear me?” he called into the breathing space.

“She cannot hear you,” Star Traveler said, its humming voice loud in his ears. “This helmet can link to a ceiling speaker if you wish. Do you wish that?”

“Nope. Let’s get this ship launched.”

Low humming met his ears. “To begin our linkage, do as I said before you put the helmet on. Relax. Seek the image of an oval door. When you see it, open it and proceed to the green-glowing door.”

“You do like to repeat things, don’t you?” Bill muttered low.

Slowing his breathing, he sought the quiet mental state that he’d learned from his parents, and from a Royal Thai Air Force Buddhist in Bangkok. The man had called it ‘centered meditation’. He tried the breathing exercises the man had taught him. Slowly his mind cleared of external thoughts. The beating of his heart then filled his mind. Slowly, even that receded. His mind became calmly receptive.

A gray metal wall appeared before his mind’s eye. An eight foot high oval door filled its middle. Visualizing his body the way one might dream of oneself during a dream, Bill walked forward, reached up, tapped the Open patch on the right side of the door, and waited.

Faster than the blink of an eye he faced a globular room. Hundreds of oval doors lined its inner surface. The doors ran in rings about the inner wall. Each door had a different color, many more colors than in a rainbow or in one of those grown-up coloring books. Realizing he stood on a metal walkway that led out to the center of the room, he began walking down it. Dozens of gray metal walkways stretched out from a central plate, resembling the blades of a fan. Below him was another level with a similar fan of walkways. Above him lay a metal walkway that led to a central point from which dozens of walkways speared out. He continued walking ahead until he got to the round plate that lay at the center of the globular room. Looking up, then down, he counted a dozen levels above him and ten or more below him. Each walkway stretched out from the central plate and ended at an oval door lying on the inner surface of the room ball. He scanned around him, focusing to his left. A green-glowing oval door lay fifty feet from where he stood. Stepping out of the center, Bill walked along the metal strip until he came within two feet of the green glowing door. A red Open patch showed to the right of the tall door. He reached up and tapped it. The oval door vanished.

“
Hello Bill MacCarthy
,” called a voice from the center of a green starburst.

Fighting the urge to blink against the brightness of the light, he walked forward.

Then the floor beneath his feet vanished.

The green starburst came toward him, filling every spot he could see. It arched up and over him. And to either side. Without looking back, he realized the green starburst now englobed him. He floated in a small space, as if he were weightless. Yet he did not feel the internal dropping sensation that often came with micro-gravity exposure. Nor did he feel constricted, as he often felt when inside a tube suit.

“Are you the green starburst?” he asked, realizing suddenly he was mind-speaking, not talking with his mouth.

“
I am. We have not yet joined. I await your invitation
,” the voice said.

He realized there was no humming. Which meant the ship mind was speaking to his mind by way of the helmet. What would happen when he ‘joined’ with it?

“What will—”

“
You will become me and I will become you
,” the AI said calmly.

Fear hit him. “How much time has passed outside this helmet?” he asked, feeling desperate for a delay.

“
One quarter second. Which is very slow by my standards. I have sought to slow my interaction with you
.”

He tried to lick his lips. Nothing happened. He looked down at his hands and arms. His black jumpsuit. They all shimmered from an inner glow. Was that his soul? His inner self? His body’s electro-magnetic umbra? Bill had read that the human body projects a glow, sometimes called a Kerlian aura. He understood the scientific explanation that it was simply the interaction of a body’s electrical current with the water moisture on the outer surface of any lifeform. Or even non-living life. Still, what he saw now resembled what he’d seen in the New Age photos he had skimmed one day during a visit to a Copenhagen pot shop. Time to stop futzing.

“I invite you to join with me,” he thought mentally.

The green starburst came inward, touching the outer glow of his skin and jumpsuit. Then it moved inward.

Pain filled him. He tried to scream.

♦   ♦   ♦

Jane tensed as she saw Bill’s body go rigid. “Cassandra!”

The woman rushed forward, stood on a rising pedestal and placed a sensor on Bill’s bare chest. She then slipped an oximeter over one of Bill’s fingers. She looked at the readouts on a small flat plate she held.

“His heart is working hard at 160 beats per minute,” she said. “Blood oxygen saturation is fine at 96 percent. It’s like he’s running a fast mile,” she said, looking down to Jane, her eyebrows lifted.

“Is he in pain?” she asked as her husband’s arched body began to tremble.

The Mohawk girl shrugged. “Hard to tell.” She looked down at the sensor plate. “My sensor says there is no sign of pain prostaglandin hormones being produced in above normal amounts. I have no idea what his brain is sensing, though.”

Jane sighed. This mind-link thing was beyond her comfort zone. “Watch him closely. Let me know if he shows cardiac fibrillation.” She pulled out the pruning shears she’d grabbed in the Greenery Chamber. “If he does, I’m cutting that fucking optical fiber!”

♦   ♦   ♦

“
Apologies
,” spoke Star Traveler in his mind. “
Your Human neuromuscular system is remarkably sensitive to input. I am leaving the brain sites related to pain perception
.”

Bill gasped mentally as the pain receded. A dull ache was left behind. “Good! Don’t do that again.”

He perceived the green starburst as a cloud of millions of green dots. The dots were linked to each other like a giant spider web. Or like pictures he’d seen of the neurons in a part of the human brain. The dot linkages pulsed with green energy. Was this the AI’s mind?

“
You perceive me
,” it said. “
And I perceive you. Fascinating how much sensation resides in such a small bioform
.”

Bill felt/sensed the green energy flows. It felt as if a thousand creeks were running through his body glow. And he occupied only a small part of the green starburst.

“Well, time to begin your training in deception,” he muttered mentally.

“
Acceptable. Define deception
.”

Fuck
. Bill raced through his memories, trying to recall what he had planned to do. Before he’d donned the helmet.
Oh, yeah
.

“Star Traveler, here is my memory of my work as a SEAL team member during our rescue effort north of Adow, Somalia, on Earth. There were 24 of us, counting me. We did a free fall chute drop, hit the ground, dumped the chutes and hiked overland to the compound where pirates held captive two NGO aid workers,” he said, his mind racing as he relived those memories.

In his mind, the ship AI walked along with him and the other SEALs. It saw, in the early morning sunglow that happens just before dawn, the brown clay and rock walls that encircled the pirate compound. The place lay atop a low, flat hill. Below it ran a dry creekbed. A few leafless trees were scattered along the bank they were trodding. A zigzag trail led up to a wooden gate that gave access. He and the rest of the team ran up the trail, giving thanks the lookouts had retreated inside for morning prayers. Their arrival time had been calculated to be the early morning prayer time which all Muslims had to observe. Their religion said they must pray toward Mecca five times a day. It was one of the few moments when an external force might surprise a group of jihadists. Which these pirates were, in addition to being captors of crews from ships that sailed off the coast of Somalia. As they reached the space before the wide wooden door, the rest of the team peeled off to the left and right, heading for the side walls. He stepped forward and knocked on the worn, pitted surface of the wood.