The Trilisk AI (15 page)

Good.
So far, so good.

“Ready?”
Cilreth asked.

Relachik
gave the go signal over his link. Cilreth got to work first. Relachik knew she
would break into the club controls and mark the club as closed. They had
concocted some excuse about a fire that morning which had damaged the club, to
help draw off any suspicion. The announcement would go out to anyone seeking
entrance, or to any queries over the net from people at home planning their
evening.

Once
Cilreth had closed the place down electronically, including bringing the
internal cameras down for maintenance, Arlin and Relachik used their stunners.
They broke a few glasses and knocked out the men inside, but it didn’t cause
much of a stir.

“This
one looks like Frankie. Supposed to be the owner,” Relachik said over his link
to Arlin and Cilreth.

“Hadrian
better be back there somewhere,” Arlin said.

As
soon as Relachik noticed that Cilreth had the place closed down, he went into
the back, Arlin at his side. They found a short, broad-shouldered man sitting
in a back room. The man was bald, yet his face was covered in stubble. The
retro desk before him looked chipped and worn almost like the damn thing had
been shipped here from Earth itself.

You
go in the side door there,
Arlin suggested. Relachik kept going, headed to the side.

Arlin
walked in first.

“Hadrian?”
Arlin asked.

“Yeah?”
the man replied, already suspicious.

Got
to give the guy credit. He’s already arming his weapon. Probably wiping any
tracking keys he’s got, too.

Relachik
shocked Hadrian with his stunner from the other side. The man collapsed. His
weapon remained under the counter, untouched.

“In
here,” Relachik directed, finding his way toward the back. A private room
beside the bar was empty.

Arlin
threw a table aside to open up some space. They worked to tie Hadrian up in a
chair.

Cilreth
hovered near the entrance of the private room.

You
don’t want to be here. Maybe just make sure no one comes in?
Relachik suggested over his link.

Copy
that,
Cilreth replied
eagerly, disappearing.

Relachik
broke out the robokit he’d brought from
Vandivier
.

“Need
anything else?” Arlin asked.

“Yeah.
Get me a whiskey,” Relachik said.

“Coming
up.”

Relachik
had never personally tortured anyone before, though he’d been around and seen
it done. Putting the subject into a virtual reality was pretty typical
procedure, but he didn’t have that luxury. It would have to be the
old-fashioned way. He took out an illegal tool he had rigged up to use on
Hadrian. He activated it against the man’s head, disabling his link.

Telisa,
I hope I find you.

Relachik
used the kit to give Hadrian a stimulant. The man stirred.

“So,
who’s our lucky man today?” Relachik said, feigning enthusiasm.

“His
name is Hadrian,” Arlin supplied.

“The
club’s all shut down, Hadrian,” Relachik said. “We have plenty of time.”

“You
know I can’t talk. Waste of time,” Hadrian said.

Relachik
hooked up the
Vandivier
’s medical robokit to Hadrian.

“What
you doin’ there?”

“I’m
making sure you don’t pass out. We want to make sure you’re awake for the full
experience.” Relachik took out an injector and pressed it against Hadrian’s
shoulder.

“What
is that shit?”

“The
Space Force has a wide selection of useful drugs,” Relachik said. “This
particular number intensifies pain in the subject.”

Hadrian’s
breathing and heart rate increased. Actually Relachik had injected an alertness
drug that did have a mild side effect of pain enhancement, but it was hardly
the purpose of the drug.

“There.
There. Now we’re ready to have some fun,” Relachik said.

“I
ain’t saying nothing. You’re nothing compared to my bosses. I’m not afraid of
you at all,” Hadrian claimed.

“Tell
me Hadrian. Where does the F-clave keep its main storage? The important
storage, with the client information on it, the one that can unscramble all the
queries and give out tracking keys.”

“I
dunno, man.”

“You’re
going to know where it is soon enough,” Relachik said. He stabbed the needle
into the man’s leg and started to inject the contents.

Hadrian
started to scream. A sizzling sound rose from his leg along with a bit of
smoke. An awful smell filled the air.

Relachik
sprayed some quickskin over the gaping wound to stanch the bleeding.

“I
wouldn’t want you to bleed out. We’re just getting started,” he said.

Hadrian
shook his head.

“I
can’t tell you nothin’, man.” Tears streamed down his face. “Iz not just me. Iz
my family I’m protectin’.”

“Your
boss isn’t going to get your family. We’re the fucking Space Force. We’re going
after them. Don’t you see? They screwed up, got our attention. The F-clave is
going down. The ones left alive, if we leave any alive, are going to be mining
ore out of some asteroid until one of them screws up and depressurizes the whole
thing. Then they’ll be dead, too.”

Hadrian
hesitated. “I know this ain’t real,” he said. “You blocked my link. This ain’t
real.”

He’s
mine now.
Relachik
filled another hypodermic slowly as he talked. “You think you’re not incarnate,
Hadrian? You’re dumber than you look. I shot you with Frankie’s zapper when I
walked in. You forget that already? Your link was fried the second I hit you
with it.”

Hadrian’s
eyes bulged for a moment.

“That’s
right, this is real-world shit. We aren’t in a VR.”

Hadrian
deflated.

“You
got four balls. Two in your eyesockets and two in your sack. This one’s going
into one of them,” Relachik said.

The
needle descended.

“No,
no, I tell you what you wanna know.”

“Then
tell me where’s the storage with your client info. The UNSF wants to get it
intact before grabbing the F-clave leaders.”

Hadrian
vomited over himself.

The
sound of breaking glass came from the other room. Arlin went to investigate.

“You’d
better hope that’s not a marshal. If I’m forced to run before I get what I need
from you, I’m going to shoot you and take off.”

“Okay,
okay. I said I’d tell you. The storage is on Halthia Hyri Three.”

“Say
it again,” Relachik ordered.

“Halthia
Hyri Three. The storage is on Halthia Hyri Three. It’s on the map as the Natali
Compound. It ain’t gonna do you no good, man. That place is a death palace.
Real nice, real deadly. You’ll never get in there.”

“Shut
up and answer my questions,” Relachik said.

Arlin
walked back in. “There was another local in the bar. Cilreth took care of it,”
he said.

I
like the way he implied Cilreth killed somebody.

“What
are the defenses at Halthia?”

“I
never been there myself. Just a friend of mine. Said they have themselves some
Space Force hydras.”

Hydras...
military robots. Damn.

“What
else?”

“What
else? That ain’t enough? The whole place is wired from top to bottom. Booby
trapped, you know? And when somebody crosses these guys—”

“Yeah,
I get it. They’re not afraid to frag someone.”

“They’ll
do you, you try to go there.”

“How
many men there? How many hydras?”

“Who
knows, man? At least three hydras. Gotta be a dozen enforcers there.”

Relachik
raised his stunner and shot it into Hadrian’s face. Hadrian was out instantly.
His head flopped to the side and his tongue lolled out.

“We’re
leaving now,” Relachik announced to the others.

“What’s
the summary?” Cilreth asked. Relachik marched out into the front and saw her.
Dried blood crusted the side of her head. A lot of it.

“What
the hell happened?”

“Some
femme came out of the bathroom and smacked me with a bottle,” Cilreth said. “I
probably lost a lot of neural connections.”

“Where
is she?”

“I
stunned her. Well, I had to stab her in the hand with a knife first. Look, I
can fill you in later.”

“We
don’t want to hurt anyone we don’t have to,” Relachik said.

“Preaching
to the choir. Summary?”

“Basically
they have an opulent complex on Halthia Hyri Three. Paid for with all their
ill-gotten gains, no doubt.”

“And?”

“Everything
we need is there. Well protected, of course. We’ll have to think through our
options. Let’s just get out of here.”

Chapter 12

All
the Bel Klaven capital machines were easy to see. They had nothing to hide
from. The huge floating fortresses were interstellar vessels turned into
military headquarters. They resupplied smaller hunting units under the ground
and lent EM support as needed. Dozens of them hugged the planet, evenly spaced,
searching, hunting, and guarding for any Gorgalan activity.

The
Bel Klaven themselves were soft, round liquid-dwellers who manipulated their
environment electrically and chemically as much as with coarser physical tools.
Kirizzo wondered what they thought of the Gorgalans now that they had struck
back. Did their behavior call for continued competition or would they be
satiated, having brought their revenge full course? They must blame all
Gorgalans for the war, since so many uninvolved Gorgalans had been killed.

Kirizzo
considered the powerful enemy who had obliterated his homeworld. He had
uncovered the story of the fall piece by piece. It had taken the Bel Klaven a
few weeks to finish a planet that had endured a millennium of Gorgalan internal
strife. First their ships had destroyed or scattered the Gorgalan fleets. Then
they had rained down bombs, but the Gorgalans lived deep underground. Some
thought they had found respite from the assault, but then the Bel Klaven
descended to the planet to hunt the Gorgalans in their subterranean home. There
hadn’t been time to develop a coherent strategy or to outsmart the Bel Klaven,
as Kirizzo had done with the small force that pursued him. The Gorgalans died,
though they had used every robot at their disposal to fight back. They simply
hadn’t prepared defenses capable of repelling a huge attack from above. Most of
their automated defenses were designed to defend their houses against other Gorgalans.

The
Bel Klaven who had come personally had taken a small Gorgalan house and turned
it into a on-planet headquarters by filling it with liquid and living inside.
Few things disturbed Kirizzo more than the idea of his house becoming a
liquid-filled tomb. The water levels in that house had dropped considerably;
Kirizzo took this as a clue that the Bel Klaven themselves may have left,
leaving behind only their war machines.

Kirizzo
focused on the vessel nearest his own home. He formed the hypothesis that the
capital ship monitored the Gorgalan power and data frequencies to dispatch
hunters whenever something became active. Kirizzo decided to test the theory
and watch the enemy in action.

His
probes linked into the Gorgalan infrastructure. As he’d suspected, his familial
domestics had turned most of the system off near the end to try and hide. In
particular, the broadcast power grid had been deactivated once most of the
systems had been damaged. Whoever had been in control at the time of the attack
had decided to turn off the grid to preserve whatever assets they had left. If
Kirizzo could reactivate those assets, he could distract the Bel Klaven, learn
more about them, and help the Terrans.

He
connected to his house from a couple of the probes. His old access keys were
intact. He took stock of the damage. It was extensive. His house was a ruin.
For a moment, Kirizzo felt rising frustration at the amount of work blocking
him. He shook it off and started.

If
he ordered machines back online and started repairs, that would likely attract
attack, so he needed something to throw away, a non-critical asset to activate
and watch. Kirizzo selected a group of drilling machines scattered throughout
the house. He found a power storage facility and broadcast the necessary
energy. The drilling machines activated. He sent them on random paths through
the house. The machines could cut through debris wherever they found it, making
them mobile even in the aftermath. Besides, Telisa and Magnus might find the
new tunnels useful for making their way through the damaged regions toward the
seed.

Not
that they should need any more help. The seed itself would likely take care of
them. Kirizzo wondered if he had made a mistake by keeping them completely in
the dark. He could have suggested they pray as their ancestors had—hinted to
them that they might once again find it useful. Such a shame their race had
been cheated of the boon they once enjoyed, then struggled to recover for
centuries in its absence.