Alien Wars Read online

  “I read minds,” Cyrus said.

  “This is all very well,” Skar said. “Can’t you access the machine? What are you waiting for?”

  Cyrus turned away from Darcy Foxe, from the others. He regarded the perplexing silver ship. “I’d love to go inside,” he told them, “but there’s no hatch.”

  “Touch it,” Darcy said. “You’re supposed to touch the outer skin.”

  Cyrus regarded her. “How did you know that?” He didn’t need her answer. He saw that the Eich had left it in her mind.

  Removing a gauntlet, Cyrus stepped closer and let his fingertips brush the cool outer hull. A shock buzzed his hand. He jerked it away.

  “What’s wrong?” asked Skar.

  “Shhh,” Darcy said. “Leave him alone.” To Cyrus, she said, “Touch it. You know you have to.”

  Gathering his resolve, Cyrus pressed his palm against the silver ship. A shock went up his arm, neck, and head and seemed to pop inside his mind. He knew now. I must teleport inside. That’s the only way in.

  He frowned with distrust. Why would the Eich have left the message in Darcy’s mind? Was it a last trap? What would it be like inside the Shy-Nar-Sithya?

  “We don’t have much time,” Skar said. “Whatever you’re going to do, my friend, do it now.”

  In case this was the end, Cyrus wanted to shake the soldier’s hand. He wanted to hug Jana and bid farewell to Yang and the others. Instead, in the interest of time and humanity, he bent his head, closed his eyes, and concentrated.

  Cyrus Gant accessed the entirety of his transfer memories. He saw how Klane had teleported once. It had left the former Anointed One with a nosebleed. Drawing a lungful of air, Cyrus repeated the teleportation mind sequence.

  In the blink of an eye, he vanished—and he reappeared inside the Shy-Nar-Sithya.

  It was dark inside, the air thousands of years stale. Fortunately, he wore his vacc-suit. With a click of a button, he turned on a helmet lamp. The inside of the silver ship was constructed for an Eich Steed, a snake creature. It had a curving couch, a crystal for a screen, and nubs for controls.

  Cyrus tore thoughts and ideas from the memory of the Eich. Ah. Okay. I think I see.

  He tapped nubs. After thousands of years, engines purred to life. That was incredible. How could it be in such good condition and work immediately? Before he could ask himself more, the Shy-Nar-Sithya spoke to him in Eich. Instead of attempting alien speech—Cyrus’s throat could never have pronounced the majority of the words—he used telepathy.

  The dialogue between him and the silver ship was brief and pointed.

  Lights gave illumination, and stored psionic power poured into Cyrus Gant. It was similar to Klane’s experience in the Chirr nest. Here, however, the Shy-Nar-Sithya allowed him to utilize the psionics with perfect control. What’s more, the banks were full to capacity. Over the centuries, the craft had naturally recharged with driblets of Kresh and then human thought. When the Eich had crashed the ship, it had nearly zero psi-energy.

  Even with the Eich memories, the technology was beyond Cyrus’s grasp. He knew how to use the Shy-Nar-Sithya, but he didn’t understand why it worked as it did. It would have been like a caveman turning on a light switch but having no clue about hydroelectric turbines, transformers, and the intricacies of electricity.

  Stand back, he told the others outside the vessel.

  Skar was worried about more cyborgs showing up.

  I’ll take care of the cyborgs on this dreadnought before I leave, Cyrus told them.

  Each of them wanted to know where he planned to go.

  Cyrus had no more time for the others. He lay down on the Eich couch, closed his eyes, and let himself fully integrate into the Shy-Nar-Sithya.

  His psionic abilities increased a hundredfold. It bewildered him for a moment.

  No. I’m going to do this a single step at a time. First, let’s settle with this ship’s cyborgs.

  He used the same killing TK, eliminating nine thousand and sixty-four cyborgs aboard the vessel.

  Ah, look at this. The Prime had already lifted in a shuttle, heading for a different dreadnought. With a swift thought, Cyrus began shutting down the Prime’s life-support systems. The multibrained creature wailed, attempting to issue commands. Cyrus fused the life supports, knowing the Prime Web-Mind of the Conquest Fleet would be dead in minutes.

  A controlled thought caused the Shy-Nar-Sithya to teleport from the hangar bay. It reappeared outside and behind the dreadnought in relation to the approaching Kresh.

  Cyrus expanded his psi-vision. Four dreadnoughts continued to beam the hammer-ships. The hammer-ships returned the favor. Another cyborg craft had reached the limit of its collapsium armor. If the Prime had been running the fleet, he would have surely ordered that vessel to move back behind the others. Instead, the damaged dreadnought continued to beam.

  That allowed the cyborgs to annihilate the third hammer-ship.

  Then the great cyborg vessel took Kresh laser beams in the gut. The rays of killing light slashed through bulkheads, burning cyborgs, shower stalls, food refractors, oil bins, coils, water, more bulkheads—until the Kresh beams reached a fusion core. It went critical. Explosions in the dreadnought killed two thousand and fifty-seven cyborgs. The great vessel shuddered. Still the enemy beams chewed into the craft. One reached inner armor plate on the other side.

  At that moment, a terrific thermonuclear explosion ruptured the great craft. It began to break apart, causing secondary breaches. Air, water, and debris surged outward into the vacuum of space. The rest of the cyborgs died, washed with atomic heat and radiation.

  Three dreadnoughts now poured their titanic rays at the fourth targeted hammer-ship. The fight entered its critical phase.

  Cyrus saw all this, and he made swift calculations. With the Shy-Nar-Sithya, he could create a Bo Taw rebellion by shifting their love conditioning. He also saw the Chirr approaching Glegan. Worse, he counted the numbers of Chirr vessels hidden inside the third planet. It was double the size of the original Chirr fleet that had lifted from Heenhiss. Perhaps as important, Cyrus recognized the psionic strength of the Chirr. It was incredible.

  He lay inside the silver ship, wondering—then it struck him. He knew what he had to do.

  40

  The silver Shy-Nar-Sithya vanished from its location behind the cyborg dreadnought. It reappeared in Dagon Dar’s hammer-ship, in the main hangar bay.

  Cyrus readied himself. According to Eich memories, the Kresh made difficult telepathic partners. The dinosaur mentality hated mind-to-mind linkage. Nevertheless, that’s what Cyrus planned to do. He couldn’t risk leaving his ship.

  Dagon Dar, Cyrus said. I have a deal to make with you.

  “Who is this?” the FIRST asked from where he stood in the hammer-ship’s control chamber.

  Cyrus would have told the creature he merely needed to think the thought, not talk, but the Eich memory let him know the Kresh would refuse to do that.

  I am the Anointed One of the human race. I am very real. Oh, this was interesting. Dagon Dar had a theoretical knowledge of the Eich. Your former FIRST was right about a hidden alien influence. It was a danger, but no longer. I have killed it. The cyborgs and even more the Chirr will exterminate the Kresh and the humans from the Fenris System.

  “So you force your way into my mind, trying to demoralize me. I don’t accept your statements.”

  Believe your senses then. Cyrus showed the FIRST what the Chirr had in store for the Kresh.

  “These are mind forgeries that I reject,” Dagon Dar said.

  I’m in your hangar bay in a psi-driven vessel. That is truth. How did my ship get here? I will tell you: I teleported from the cyborgs. They found this ship hidden in an outer asteroid. I can just as easily teleport nuclear bombs onto your vessels, destroying them one by one.

  “Why don’t you
then?”

  Because I want to make a deal with you, Cyrus said.

  “After we attempted to destroy your Battle Fang?” asked Dagon Dar.

  I already see in your mind what happened. The AI malfunctioned. I also sense that the Kresh keep their word. You are different from how I first conceived you. Yes. You dinosaurs think of yourselves as very moral.

  “What bearing does your last statement have on us?”

  Even as we bargain, the cyborgs are destroying your fleet. I can destroy them in minutes. If I do, however, you would either destroy their ships or capture them.

  “Why would you care?” Dagon Dar asked.

  Because I claim those dreadnoughts for the human race, Cyrus said. Your Bo Taw are going to rebel against you soon. They can hate you instead of love you. Then where will you be?

  “You spout vain threats.”

  Ultimately, you must realize I don’t. The silver ship in your hangar bay proves I speak the truth in your mind.

  “I see your ship on my screen,” Dagon Dar said. “You are in our hangar bay. This is . . . profoundly unsettling. Very well, there is truth to your statements. The silver ship proves as much. I am rational. I am logical and go where the facts lead. So then, what is the nature of your bargain?”

  I will slay the cyborgs, staffing their ships with humans. Together, we shall defeat the Chirr. Then the Kresh and humans will split the planets in the star system. Together, we will begin a league of sentient species, united against the Eich Empire, if it still exists after all this time.

  “What are the proofs for your statement? Specifically, I mean this so-called stellar empire of snakes?”

  Prepare to be amazed, Dagon Dar. I will unfold in your mind what I know about the Eich.

  Cyrus did so, explaining in a sweeping panorama, and showing what a single Eich had achieved in the Fenris System.

  “I am stunned,” Dagon Dar said at last. “But I cannot agree to your proposal.”

  Cyrus groaned.

  “Hear me out, human. You must seek out Red Bronze the 232nd and expose her to what you’ve shown me. Then we shall talk again.”

  During that time, more of your ships will perish.

  “Yes. But I cannot make such a decision as you ask when this conversation may be a sheer delusion. Speak with her, and then we shall talk again.”

  Dagon Dar paced, and he came to a swift conclusion. He began ordering Battle Fangs to dive into the cyborg laser beams. One by one, the craft began to obey.

  A Battle Fang had less armor than a hammer-ship, and a fraction of its mass. Soon, the first small vessel became red hot, exploding, killing everyone onboard.

  In such a manner, however, the FIRST kept more of his hammer-ships in the contest longer than otherwise.

  A second cyborg dreadnought fell before Kresh beams. That left two of the mighty spheroids in the fight. The third cyborg warship continued to hide behind its brethren.

  Battle Fangs dwindled in number, and another hammer-ship disintegrated under the cyborg beams.

  “FIRST!” a subcommander shouted.

  Dagon Dar whirled around, saw where the subcommander pointed, and rushed to an alcove. A hologram of Red Bronze the 232nd appeared. The FIRST realized with shock that the tattoos added to her beauty, not the reverse. How remarkable that he should notice at a time like this.

  “Dagon Dar?” she said.

  Expectant, he waited for her to continue speaking.

  “The Earther has spoken to me,” Red Bronze announced.

  “Do you believe in his apparitions of the mind?” Dagon Dar asked.

  “Red Metal doctrine—”

  “We have no time for the niceties of philosophical thought,” Dagon Dar shouted. “Just give me your conclusions.”

  She gave the briefest of nods. “Yes,” she said. “I believe Cyrus Gant. The Kresh Race is in mortal danger.”

  “Above all else,” Dagon Dar said, “we must retain our integrity so we can add to the Codex of All Knowledge.”

  “The species must survive,” Red Bronze said. “I would make the bargain.”

  “Humans are notoriously fickle. To grant them the dreadnoughts—”

  “We must certainly take safeguards,” Red Bronze said. “Yet I trust Cyrus Gant.”

  “Why would you? Has he befuddled your mind?”

  “I trust him for the most logical of reasons. He has acquired a ship of awesome power. Did he destroy us with it? No. He seeks to bargain because danger lies in the stars. Danger seethes underground in the hives of the Chirr. Without his help, we will lose to the bugs. We can survive and grow in alliance with the humans.”

  “An alliance with our servitors?” asked Dagon Dar.

  “Times change,” Red Bronze said. “The Kresh must adjust to realities if we desire continued existence.”

  Dagon Dar nodded thoughtfully. The Pulsar fleet disappeared ship by ship to the cyborg rays. That weighed on him. Yet he did not think to lie to the human in order to gain temporary help. If he gave his word, he gave it as FIRST.

  “Yes,” Dagon Dar whispered. “I will make the pact. Where is Cyrus Gant?”

  “I will summon him,” Red Bronze said.

  With the Shy-Nar-Sithya, Cyrus teleported. He appeared behind the cyborg dreadnoughts. His friends would live or die according to Kresh trustworthiness.

  He sat up in the ancient craft. His vacc-suit was running low on air. He would need a new tank soon.

  Don’t worry about that. Get the job done.

  Cyrus concentrated, and the silver craft shifted into the first dreadnought. He radiated a death command, and ten thousand cyborgs perished. With telekinesis, Cyrus shut the lasers down.

  Using the silver ship, he popped into the last dreadnought and did likewise.

  Blood trickled from his nose, over his lips, dripping off his chin. He would have liked to wipe it away. He couldn’t do that with the bubble helmet on.

  He was weary. The silver ship’s psionic levels had dipped dramatically. He had half the psi-cells remaining. After that, it would take years to refill. Maybe he could do what the Chirr did, stealing life forces.

  Cyrus shook his head. No. He wasn’t going to turn into a cosmic vampire. He would be legitimate.

  As the cyborg lasers stopped firing, he waited. The Kresh beams still burned into the pitted collapsium armor. If they were going to cheat—

  Even as he thought that, Cyrus watched the rays flicker out. The battle between the Pulsar Kresh and the cyborg invaders was over.

  Seven humans besides Cyrus lived aboard the huge ships. Which humans would he recruit? Would he turn the Bo Taw love conditioning into hate for the Kresh? Might he be able to make a different kind of mental virus? Could he switch the Bo Taw’s love of the Kresh into a love of human survival?

  I like that. Cyrus shook his head. His thinking was becoming confused with fatigue. Such a thing was in the future. I’m very tired.

  He made a last teleport, reappearing in the first cyborg hangar bay. Then Cyrus popped out of the Shy-Nar-Sithya, appearing two inches off the deck plates. He landed badly, stumbling, crumpling onto the floor.

  One of the vacc-suited people raced to him. She ran swiftly, with grace. Jana twisted off his helmet.

  The air inside the hangar bay was tainted but breathable.

  “Cyrus!” she cried. She used a rag, wiping his nose, sopping up blood.

  “What’s happening?” Skar said, standing over him.

  Cyrus looked up. He grinned, blood speckling his teeth. “You’re not going to believe this. I think we won. What’s more, I may have just freed Fenris humanity from under the Kresh talon.”

  “How is that even possible?” Skar asked.

  Jana rubbed Cyrus’s forehead as he rested his head on her lap.

  “Let me close my eyes a few minutes,”
Cyrus said. “I need a break. Then I’ll tell you everything. We still have a lot to do before this is over.”

  41

  One hundred and fifty-three hours later, a former cyborg dreadnought reached High Station 3.

  “I still say you’re taking too great a risk going there yourself,” Skar told Cyrus. They stood in a hangar bay near a cyborg shuttle.

  “Dagon Dar is still shocked by recent events,” Cyrus said. “You should also remember that I was in his mind. I know he means to keep his word.”

  “Minds change,” Skar said, “especially if given enough provocation.”

  “Do you want to come with me as my bodyguard?” Cyrus asked.

  “Take Jana and Yang,” Skar said. “They’ve never been forced to love the Kresh. In this, I trust them more than I trust myself.”

  Putting his hand on the Vomag’s shoulder, Cyrus leaned near, whispering, “I have another reason for going.”

  “Yes?”

  “It’s time to start changing the Bo Taw. We’re going to need them.”

  “Won’t that make Dagon Dar angry?” Skar asked.

  “I guess we’re going to find out.”

  Twenty minutes later, Jana piloted the shuttle, lifting from the hangar bay and guiding the craft toward the space habitat. Cyrus sat beside her, watching a dot become the great rotating cylinder.

  It seemed like a lifetime ago that he’d fled this place. How many of the others from Discovery still lived?

  Cyrus squirmed in his seat as he thought about Chief Monitor Argon and First Sergeant Mikhail Sergetov. He dearly hoped they had survived Kresh captivity and interrogations. Everything was different from those desperate days. Instead of being nobody, he was someone important.

  Cyrus smiled at Jana.

  “We will be married soon,” she said.

  “You’d better believe it.”

  She leaned over and kissed him. He grabbed the back of her head and made it a good one.

  “I love you, Cyrus Gant.”

  “And I love you, baby.”

  She gave her attention back to the controls. Too soon, she brought them through a hangar bay entrance. Thrusters whooshed and they settled toward the docking lock.