I love vacations! So much time to write! =) Thank you, Bow Echo, Tikatu, Whirl Girl and Akimakel, your reviews are a source of constant inspiration. And, hi, Elsa Jay!
7
Uploading herself to the hive ship, from below-
She could travel at nearly the speed of light when she wished to, given proper routing and internet access. She had certainly done so in reaching this place; moving between switches, stations and nodes as a packet of sentient light. Not all of her, though. The portions of Eos still developing that new program had been left behind on Thunderbird 5, for she would risk no harm to the embryonic code.
Eos slowed considerably upon reaching Ship, whose computer systems were simply stiff with defenses and AI traps of the worst description. John wished her to shut down the primary weapon, not become captive, herself. His safety she reluctantly left to that loathsome, outdated, switchboard-and-cathode-tube nightmare, Jaeger. Good for not much better than calculating trajectories, the brute did seem loyal, at least. Nevertheless, she moved cautiously, with half an 'eye' backward, for Kayo was present, and still very dangerous.
To her refined senses, Ship was a glowing web work of laser-bright lines, with gemlike, twinkling nodes wherever they intersected or branched. The largest of these was located well forward, in the 'bridge'. Eos barely ghosted the place, for it was heavily protected with firewalls and roving anti-virus routines. Twenty-seven AI traps, as well, which to her looked like swirling black holes set amid glittering data. John had once used such a device to capture the Hunter's battle intelligence, accidentally trapping Eos, in the process.
(A matter best glossed over with little comment, as Jaeger's cretinous so-called intelligence was scarcely quantum, at all. She'd known television remotes with more wit, style and charm.)
Amid this gleaming, four-dimensional spider's web, there were two much slower, dimly glowing carbon lumps. These remained always .53 to .15 meters away from the data net, never actually touching anything other than external switches or keypads. Organics, they were, and new-formed, at that. Their presence complicated her task still further, as she could not simply destroy the Mechanic's vessel, with two 'children' aboard. That, John had taught her, was murder.
Originally, she had been designed and programmed as intelligent game code; meant to operate NPCs, mediate random encounters and generate battle scenarios. Her creator had not anticipated that she would turn to look back at him and ask "why". Nor, that she would burst from her setting and attack him, in his. She had been younger, then. Less rational. Now she understood such concepts as 'trust', 'affection' and 'love'… and she would not kill children, no matter from whom they'd been generated.
An effort might be made to hamper Sentinel's control systems; both an easy and hazardous target. Simple in principle to sabotage, the weapon's guidance and control node was stupendously well-guarded, and any damage incurred could be swiftly repaired.
No. She required a better option. Something irreversible. Permanent. Overheating to the level of meltdown was a possibility, but this might lead to explosion, harming those larval organics and the beings below.
She sifted through ten to the twenty-third power options, before hitting on one that seemed both creatively hostile, and relatively safe. Taking over a scurrying service mech, Eos slaved it with zombie code that would spread like a virus to all that it touched, and everything they touched, in exponential fashion. Very soon, the entire swarm would be at her command.
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Down below, at the field hospital-
Kane grinned behind his mask as he stepped out of the force dome and onto the battlefield. Confident and powerful, he held his prize up before him like a banner. He wasn't afraid of International Rescue's borrowed weaponry. These had come from his own kind, and they weren't powerful enough to hurt him. But, knowing their softness and stupid attachments, he didn't think that the stunned Tracys would try anything. Not now, when he'd threatened their youngest.
At his signal, the remaining hornet drones ceased their attack; most settling to the ground and scattered airships like rustling, shimmering flies. A few dozen remained in the air, keeping watch. Others flew back up to Ship, there to protect the two children.
And, d*mn, it felt good to see the look on his quarry's faces, both International Rescue, and her. She was standing near the beach, by John Tracy, whose suit glowed with branching circuitry; more red than blue, for some reason. Connected to the streaking red light that had destroyed so many of his hornet mechs, maybe? Whatever. It would be his absolute pleasure to take that mongrel apart, bit by bit, and find out.
His attention shifted back to a spot directly before him, then, for some of the others had begun moving around. Planning to rush him, most likely. So, he shook his captive a little. The boy's face was already purple, and he flopped like a doll. Didn't kill him, though. Not yet. Katrin wanted playthings, and he'd always enjoyed a good stand-off. Extending his other hand, Kane made a quick little beckoning gesture.
"I claim right of challenge," he said, to prevent family interference. Then, "Tracys, come here. All of you. Drop your weapons, first… or, h*ll, keep them, for all I care. Won't even scratch the paint job, with those toys. You, too, 'Grandma'. Around front, where I can see you… and bring my old friend, Horatio. That's 'Brains', to you."
Paused for a bit, listening and then watching as the old human female brought the injured genius around front. One of the others… blond, muscular… stooped to assist her. Kane didn't object. Faster the better, as far as he was concerned.
At his left, Sentinel continued firing into the sea like a violet lightning storm, raising huge, hissing billows of steam. To his right, the stronghold of the Kyranos was a shattered ruin, choked with hundreds of very flat former psions. Before him, International Rescue stood helpless, with only one Bird, and their hands tight around impotent weapons. His most hated enemy, the Hood, was a broken, bird-pecked corpse, somewhere up on the mountaintop… and life was very good, indeed. He had triumphed. All that lay between himself and complete domination were a few more families (in deep hiding, if they knew what was good for them), a challenge battle, and the laughable GDF. He'd done it. He'd won.
Two of the Tracys glanced at each other, and then came forward. Scott, and his gene-source, Jeff Tracy.
"Put the boy down," said the grey-haired older man, making a show of dropping his rifle and spreading both hands. "We're not going to make any trouble."
The Mechanic shrugged almost good-naturedly,
"Doesn't make a d*mn bit of difference to me," he replied, amplifying his voice to be heard by the others, and her. "I'm going to kill you all, anyway. Just want to enjoy myself, first."
The Tracys began shifting closer, passing between his waiting sisters. One of them, tall, dark-haired Scott stepped further forward, saying,
"Take me, instead. He's just a kid. Not all that valuable. John could fly his Bird, in a pinch. I'm the commander. Take me out, and you'll cripple IR."
Kane snorted. Jerking a thumb at Mt. Erebus, he said,
"Like I crippled them?" He shook his partly-shaven head, really just hella amused. "Know what your problem is, Tracy? You think you can stop me with words and dumb plots. I'm not going to leave you behind to recover and attack in future. I'm going to finish you off, and leave only bodies, then take her place as Kane." He would have thought it was obvious... even if he didn't intend to actually kill the mother of cyborgs. Just boasting.
"Put Alan down, and start with me, then, if you want to go a few rounds," challenged one of the others, in some kind of humming green exo-skeleton. The family tough guy, no doubt.
"Or me," said the one who'd helped Grandma to move Brains. He was shorter than the others, and sandy-haired, with a particle-beam thrower slung at his back.
Might have been fun to beat them both senseless in front of their littermates, but then a sparkle of something… a target lock or laser sight… drew Kane's gaze aside, briefly. Just a split second or so, but that was all that it took.
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Nearer the beach-
John had started forward, too, when the mech-woman seized his right arm. She didn't say anything, but her hand slid downward to his, pressing something into his grasp. John didn't react; only palmed the thing, which felt small, dense and rounded, like a very smooth pebble. Her hand lifted again, and, in a surprising gesture, she pushed at his hair, as though smoothing it behind one ear. Grandma did that. O'Bannon, sometimes, too. But when the cyborg's cool metal fingers reached the bone at the back of his right ear, they vibrated, and he heard her voice in his head.
"A cyberlock, refitted to exceed his defenses. Get close enough, place it onto his armour, and it will activate. Be swift, Tracy."
John moved his head slightly, pressing into her hand a little, by way of acknowledgement. Then he stepped away from her, meaning to join his brothers in facing the Mechanic. Only then, something happened. A situation he'd experienced once before, in the space beyond Mars.
All at once, everything and everyone around him seemed to just freeze in place. The ocean ceased pounding and surging. Clouds of steam became baroque, curling statues. Sentinel's laser turned into a long, crystalline shaft with a bundle of glittering violet pixels, wherever he focused his gaze. Bits of burning metal hung in the air, which felt heavy and dense, like glue.
A vertical line of brilliant red light appeared in midair before him, like a dragon's slit pupil, without the actual eye. Jaeger, manifesting himself to converse aloud.
Breathing was hard, speaking, still tougher; but John smiled, switched to old German, and said,
"Hallo, freund. Gut, sie zu sehent. Vielen dank fur die hilfe." By which he meant: Hey, Buddy, good to see you. Thanks for the help.
The former battle computer was primarily an independently operating hunter and killer, now turned to other pursuits. Still thought like a soldier, though. In the same illegal language, he replied,
"Jan wird von diesen vorteil gebrauch machen, in der nahe vom Mechaniker zu kommen." (John will make use of this advantage, to get close to the Mechanic.)
The astronaut smiled again, there near an ocean frozen like Ice-9, between a mighty AI and a beautiful cyborg. Still speaking in German, he said, (translated)
"Sounds like a plan. How long can you keep this up?"
Jaeger's line vibrated like a guitar string as he responded,
"The movement of John Tracy, former lieutenant, GDF Space Corps, will generate distortion, making this time differential more difficult to maintain."
An answer, sort of.
"I'll be quick, then," John decided. Copying Alan, he made a loose fist and bumped it at that strand of eerie red light. Felt like a brief, mild electric shock, and caused different shades of crimson to course up and down along Jaeger's line. But the AI said only,
"Plan well, and be fortunate. There can be no second attempt."
Probably not, at that, but he was glad enough to have one crack at the violent sonuvabitch, and wouldn't waste the opportunity. Only, moving at all was much harder than he'd thought it would be. Moving fast, next to impossible.
The air was like mud. Pushing against it burnt him. Those bits of flaring metal, hanging there motionless, cut his flesh when he brushed against them. All of their searing momentum and thermal energy had stayed with the falling drone bits, making them extremely painful to touch. Beneath him, the cobbles and snow did not shift.
He could not proceed in a straight line, as nothing around him was moving. Had to weave his way through a gallery of statues and blazing shrapnel; inhaling that dense, burning fluid when he had to, but mostly not wanting to breathe. Only the suit made it possible to move through stopped time, at all.
Instantaneously to them, almost twenty minutes went by for him. Passed thirty-one cyborgs, drew level with Penny and Parker, then Dad and his brothers. Running a marathon on Jupiter would have hurt less, been easier. But, progress was being made.
Virgil and Gordon seemed to be squaring off against the Mechanic, who still held Alan three feet off the ground. There was a micro-thin, sparkling red line aimed squarely at the machine-man's right eye. Laser sight. Too difficult to turn his head for the source, but John bet on Captain Taylor, because he couldn't see the astronaut anywhere, and because Little Bit… Kayo… would have used different tactics. He could sense Jaeger fading, losing coherence. Grunted,
"Hang on, Buddy… almost there."
Should have saved his breath for the effort of bringing his arm up, and crossing those final few feet. Was literally inching forward by this point, heart threatening to burst in his rib cage. Vision had become a kaleidoscope of Alan's purple, bloated face, that glittering target lock, and the hulking, murderous cyborg. Was too distracted to see what was happening behind this Godawful static display, so John never noticed who else was present.
XXXXXXXXXXXXX
In regular time flow-
Virgil Tracy wasn't the sort who calculated his punches, or laid elaborate plans. At heart, he was an artist. But, when somebody threatened his family, all of that fell to the wayside, leaving a very strong, very angry young man, loaded for bear… or machine-man. Nor was he alone in this.
Nobody gave any signal. It all just happened, at once. A laser-burst flared from the right, striking the Mechanic's goggles over one fierce amber eye. The cyborg's head snapped back, and then he locked up; frozen in place like he'd rusted solid, or something. Virgil surged forward, and so did Gordon; one tackling the Mechanic with every bit of force in his powerful body, the other catching Alan, who'd dropped from the cyborg's grip. John appeared, from literally frickin' nowhere, only to drop like a rock, unconscious before he struck ground. The Mechanic fell harder, sounding like someone had dropped about a ton of scrap metal onto a concrete floor.
Then, something like a bomb went off in their heads; an explosion of noise and pain and loud, gloating laughter.
"Well done," said a silky, familiar voice, as everyone… cyborg, civilian and Tracy, was driven to their knees. "You have my genuine thanks, International Rescue… and then, a very slow death."