Alien, Mine (29 page)

Mhartak watched a schematic overlay the image of the comet entering his home world’s system. It displayed a false representation of the comet moving along a calculated path. At a particular point not yet reached by the comet, but disturbingly close, a flash simulated the detonation of explosives. The comet broke apart forming a loosely aligned mass of sizeable segments in significant numbers. Its trajectory propelled the fragments in a long string into Mrilala’s atmosphere. The animation returned to the beginning and began to flash red.

“Are our ships capable of destroying that many fragments?” Fear wobbled through Councillor Darlnron’s words.

Grim acknowledgement compressed Mhartak’s lips. An image of the people and creatures of his world dying of extreme radiation burned into his brain.

“We have the firepower, Councillor. Unfortunately with our ships scattered across innumerable sectors, we do not have the numbers close enough to be of benefit.”

But do we need them? The Bluthen wanted Sandrea in this machine for a reason. Was it to emit the detonation codes?

He swung on the doctor. “Remove her from the machine immediately.”

“Not so fast, General.”

Mhartak winced at the shrillness of Darlnron’s tone.

“We need to know more.”

Mhartak glared at Drengel. “Do it.”

The doctor stepped to a console and tapped a sequence on a panel. Nothing happened.

“Doctor?”

“The computer is not accepting my command, General. I’ll have to remove the probe myself.”

“With all speed, Doctor.”

“Doctor Drengel,” Darlnron shrieked, “ignore my orders and you will regret it.”

Drengel slid an instrument from a coat pocket and climbed up next to Sandrea.

Mhartak squeezed her hand. “We’ll have you out soon, my heart.”

A flash of white light sparked from the console above Sandrea’s head. Drengel gasped then pitched back to fall in a quivering heap on the floor. Dovzshak rushed to his side as the doctor lay moaning.

“Report!” Mhartak ordered.

“I’m not severely injured.” Drengel’s voice shuddered. “The electric spark was attracted to the tool I was holding and fortunately I released it before the current exceeded the let-go threshold. But we aren’t going to get Sandrea released from the machine without first disarming that security device.”

Mhartak swung back to Sandrea, his mind racing through alternatives. He drew breath and leaned close to her.

“My love,” he whispered. “Tell me how I can halt this.”

The voice of her soul mate filtered into Sandrea’s awareness. The distress lacing it inflamed her anger. A detonation sequence rushed by, streaming toward the bio-net outlet. She hurtled after it, instinctively knew she couldn’t let it escape, but she struggled to gain ground on it. Two more moved up on her flank. She leapt on one, sank claws of determination into its matrix, and fought to halt its advance. A silent scream ripped through her mind as an outer force tried to tear the command from her body.

Every long nerve writhed with searing fire as she wrestled for dominance. Messages of love stormed her system and strengthened her resolve. Eugen’s plea echoed through her mind. Beneath her fierce will, the detonation command disintegrated into a thousand segments of disjointed code. She sprang after the other two.

Anger drove her forward and strengthened her attack. She spliced her thoughts with her quarry. Cracks appeared in the bonds of one command, then its source code ruptured.

She turned to the other, but it had escaped.

“This craft just emitted a signal, General,” Kiresel said.

“Did it penetrate the
Vega
’s dampening field?” Mhartak demanded.

Private Kiresel shook his head, then an expression of disbelief and dismay furrowed his brow.

“It . . . hells of fire, it’s tapping
into
the
Vega
’s communication systems, Sir.” He gasped. “I’m sorry, Sir, the signal has been sent.”

Mhartak’s gaze flashed to the monitor displaying the comet. A bright, white flare bloomed on the comet’s surface. For a moment nothing changed, then sizeable fragments began to drift from the body of the comet. They remained huddled together in tight formation, close to, but not touching the nucleus.

“Shoot her,” Darlnron snarled.

“General?” Uncertainty vibrated through Private Kiresel’s tone and brought Mhartak’s attention to a symbol flashing on a monitor.

It was a Bluthen ‘task complete’ glyph.

Fear gripped his heart in a bruising vice. Was it Sandrea or an automated response of the machine? There were still two detonation signals unaccounted for. He swung to her, then traced his fingers down the side of her face and stared into her closed eyes as though to penetrate her mind and find the answer his soul cried for.

“
Shoot her now, General
!” Darlnron’s screech echoed through the cabin.

Fear swelled in Mhartak’s throat and his hand shook over his weapon.

Sandrea’s eyes snapped open. Extreme pain haunted their depths. He hunted through her eyes, searching for a sign of awareness, of confirmation this was
her
doing.

“The comet is nearing the Critical Point of Decision, General. Thirty seconds.”

Once past the CPD, even if the explosives were detonated, the comet would not fall into his planet’s gravitation influence. Sandrea was the key. The explosives awaited a radio signal to ignite. Could he trust her to be strong enough not to send those signals?

“General, terminate the threat
immediately
!”

Mhartak knew he could not afford to wait until the CPD passed. If the machine sent signals at the last moment, there would be no way he, or anyone else, could stop it. He knew in his heart if he were forced to kill Sandrea, he’d hunt down every last Council member and murder them.

“General! I’m giving you a direct order. She’s already issued one radio command. Terminate the threat to our planet immediately!”

“Ten seconds.”

“General, do your duty!” Darlnron hollered.

Give me a sign, my love.

His heart shuddered. Fear the likes of which he’d never known crawled through his gut. Tears gathered like cold, condemning spears in his eyes.

My love,
please.

He pulled his handgun from its holster.

“What does that mean?”

Private Kiresel’s soft query crashed into the horror of his mind.

His head snapped to the nearest monitor.

ILYL

“
Shoot her!
”

He stared. Relief washed the strength from his muscles and left him trembling from head to toe. He locked his knees and leaned to place a tender kiss to Sandrea’s lips. Liquid trickled from his eyes and ran over the sensitive skin of his cheek and jaw.

He stepped back. A tremor of pride softened his lips.

“Critical Point passed, General,” Private Kiresel reported, evident relief cast in his tone. “Mrilala is free from the threat.”

Thank g’Nel. And thank you, my one and only.

“General,” Darlnron’s outraged voice bellowed, “consider yourself under susp—”

A hissing noise filled the cabin.

“My apologies, General,” Kiresel murmured, “we appear to have lost communication with the Councillor.”

“Thank you, Private. Get her out of this thing, Doctor.”

“No, wait.”

Sandrea’s whispered words halted him more effectively than a point-blank blast from an ion wave gun.

“Sandrea?”

Her eyes begged his patience and then her lids lowered.

What has she discovered of such significance that could entice her to extend the connection with that abominable machine?

Sandrea swarmed toward the computer link, chasing down a directive marked ‘Detention Centre’. An ocean of information surged toward her. With single-minded focus she battled her way through the overwhelming influx of data and hunted the fleeing directive to its source file. Horrified at what she discovered she pulled out of the mainframe and disengaged from the bio-interface. The damn probe embedded in her nape hurt almost as much being extracted as it had penetrating.

“A detonation command got away from me,” she gasped. “What happened?”

Eugen spun toward her. His arms lifted, wrapping her in a protective embrace and helping her to the floor.

“Nothing to worry about,” he soothed.

She fell into his hold and clung to his security. Not that she needed to. Eugen enfolded her as though his every intention was to shelter her there for the rest of their lives. Something she didn’t have a problem with. She breathed deep and his scent wound into her senses and eased the aching turmoil of her mind.

“I have a headache like you wouldn’t believe,” she said.

Dexter scampered up her arm and clung to her neck, stroking his head against the underside of her chin.

“I’m fine, little one. I’m fine.”

The soft, musical twitter of Drengel’s medical scanner tripped a gentle cascade into her ears, then he pressed a painless injection into her neck.

“Thanks, Doc.” She pulled in another deep, steadying breath. “Eugen, this craft was programmed to return to that planet”—she managed a feeble nod toward a monitor where a dotted line described a path on a star map toward the frontier of Bluthen space—“on completion of the mission. We need to go there—with well-armed company.”

“For what purpose?”

She tilted her head back and gazed up at him.

“It’s another bio-augmentation experiment camp. They’re holding people caught in raids from different sectors.” Compassion constricted her chest. “If the data base information is correct, there are two Bluthen squads in residence and about a dozen technicians.”

The pain in her body eased and the stimulation of whatever Drengel shot into her system began to fortify her body.

“Number of captives?” Eugen asked.

The memory of ‘terminated’ files flashed behind her eyes. She clamped her shoulder muscles tight to subdue a shiver of dismayed revulsion. “I don’t know, some, maybe thirty or forty.”

“Humans?”

She nodded wearily. “Some.”

A shadow passed through Eugen’s eyes.

Despite Drengel’s ministrations, fatigue wobbled her sagging knees, and she leaned her forehead into his chest. Eugen’s warm embrace held her secure into the strength of his body.

“Please, Eugen.”

“Captain Mfumger, Lieutenant, your thoughts?”

“We could use their own initiative against them,” the captain of the
Vega
considered. “Offer them a prize they cannot ignore by sending this craft back. I’m sure they’re hungry for an indication of how successful their scheme was. I’ve no doubt they have spies on Mrilala, but even so, confirmation of success or failure would not be immediately evident on the planet.”

“Yes,” Eugen replied. “You are correct, and confirmation of success would initiate the second phase of their plan.”

“
Second
phase?” she asked.

Eugen turned his gaze to her. “Yes. The Bluthen would take absolute advantage of our crisis and launch an all out attack.”

The bastards! As if burning away a planet’s atmosphere wasn’t enough.

“We could disable the transponder of the craft so that it remained undetected in Bluthen space until it approached the planet,” Graegen pointed out. “So even if they considered it a threat any counter measures would have to be launched from the planet or nearby.”

“But wouldn’t they have been monitoring? Detected only one detonation signal?” she asked.

“On the frequency they would expect it, yes,” Eugen agreed. “And that one signal may work to our advantage. From their perspective there is a possibility the remaining two detonation commands were transmitted on alternative wavelengths. As Captain Mfumger said, their hunger to discover the truth will play to our advantage. They will want this craft and they will want it intact.”

“The
Vega
would most definitely be detected well before the planet,” Mfumger said. “However one or two shuttles could possibly slip in to provide the thrust for an unexpected attack.”

“I agree,” Graegen said. “It appears to be a perfect opportunity, General. As you said, they will want this craft. If we fly in close formation, hide in her baffles, so to speak, on the approach to the planet, I believe two shuttles could enter the atmosphere without detection.”

“Resistance?”

“Troops should be dispersed throughout the compound.”

“General,” Mfumger added, “that planetoid is two days away at high speed. The heavy cruiser,
Kolliok
, and her two escort destroyers could arrive in time to provide backup. And I think, General, for such an incursion, if you don’t invite the
En-Da
, you’ll never hear the end of it from Captain Lisl.”

“That should certainly discourage any hostiles in the area and combat aerial defences. Very well, gentleman, we will discuss this further on the
Vega
.”

“Shall I—” Sandrea began.

“No, you will not link with that damned machine ever again. I’m sure Private’s Kiresel and Ragnon are capable of piloting us.”

“General?” The confines of a cabinet engulfing Kiresel’s head muffled his voice. “Sandrea seems to have made some incursions into the firewalls, I’m able to access navigation and propulsion. I’m pretty sure I can engage the original programming to return this vessel to the planet.”