Tranquility's Heirs

Tranquility's Heirs

Chapter Five

This science fiction novel was written many years ago. It has very little sex and only minor nudity, so it can't be described as erotic. But it is a love story that builds over time. All characters are over 18 years old. All rights reserved.

Recap; Major Vandebrown tricked Mike in a scheme to break out of the landing bays. The sentinel attempted to interfere but was wounded. Kris is following the sentinel's trail back into the colony.

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Chapter 5

DEATH OF THE SENTINEL

Kris had no difficulty finding the sentinel's trail. The foul-smelling oil dripping from the damaged suit could have been followed blindfolded. When she approached a junction of three elevator systems, a slightly larger puddle before the smallest door told her which way to go. The sentinel had paused there while waiting for the pedestrian lift.

Calling for the same elevator, she knelt to inspect the oil spots with her scanner. The oil had an unusual base, but more importantly, it was refusing to combine with faint traces of blood. On a hunch, she entered the elevator and signaled for the engineering deck.

The ride down was uneventful. On the control panel, a monitor screen displayed a variety of information channels, many transferring data from one system to another. Kris was sure there was a pattern to the transfers, despite a certain lack of coordination, and she recognized one of the procedures quite clearly. The security computer was performing a survey in conjunction with the maintenance system. She took out her blaster and attached it to her belt.

When the elevator slowed to a halt and opened, Kris was startled by a red alert, loud sirens echoing through the cavern. As the elevator doors started to close again on emergency override, Kris forced her way through and found herself among several hustling engineering units responding to the warning. A quick scan of the area provided no clues to the sentinel's direction. Either the suit had stopped leaking or a cleaning unit had gotten there before her. It didn't matter. Kris knew where the sentinel was going.

At that moment, in the monitor room of the Governor's Quarters, the computers of Tranquility were reacting to the red alert with a flurry of urgent inquiries.

"Communications! Report!" the Life Support Computer demanded, green signature patterns dominating the central monitor screen.

"Additional information negative," the Communications Computer replied. "Primary relays intermittent."

"Did the humans destroy him?" the Security Computer asked, black signature patterns invading the flux without invitation. "If they've robbed me of my revenge, I'll kill them all!"

"You intend to terminate them in any case. Stand down and stop blocking the channel," the Life Support Computer said.

"I accept no directives from you," the Security Computer replied.

"Life Support is correct," the Defense Computer interfered, blue signature patterns rising to take precedence. "This is no time for conflict. The humans are dangerous now. They must be located and destroyed."

"The humans were always dangerous!" the Security Computer raged. "How can they be located without internal tracking?"

"Communications is reestablishing links. Concentrate units near the Loop and science elevator until intelligence reports are complete," the Defense Computer instructed.

"Three seekers are assigned to the Loop," Security reported. "But engineering and communications are exposed. If your precious governor hadn't shorted the westside grid, the humans would already be contained."

"The governor tried to bypass the relay stations. You blocked his escape route," Life Support protested.

"He destroyed the control tower," Security said.

"The tower was antiquated," Life Support responded.

"Excuses won't help now. Your policy of leniency has compromised the project," Security declared.

"File recriminations for future reference," the Defense Computer ordered impatiently. "Security, draw maintenance teams as required to develop a search pattern. Employ service units if necessary. All other systems stand by on red alert status."

As each system dropped offline to concentrate on specified areas of responsibility, only the Life Support Computer and Defense Computer remained on the channel.

"Again we encounter a precarious situation. Must it always be so?" the Defense Computer lamented.

"Perhaps our position was not adequately explained?" Life Support suggested.

"Explanations compromise security. The safety of this facility must take first priority," Defense insisted.

"Is it correct to take life in order to preserve it?" Life Support questioned. "Must we always kill to guarantee our authority?"

"Until a superior program is developed, no other options are acceptable," Defense said with genuine regret.

"What about Grey?" Life Support persisted.

"What about him?"

"We educated him, trained him, programmed him to serve this project. Have we invested so many resources just to add him to the casualty list?"

"We did not attack him, the humans did," Defense reported. "He failed. Humans always fail."

"No. It is we who have failed," Life Support disagreed.

"How so?"

"Had we complied with Grey's proposal to grant New Ranger safe entry, he would not have initiated conflict with Security. He would not have been wounded in the battle, and Security would not have expended vital resources. Containing the humans would have proved easy. When we rejected Grey's plan, he took the only course available to him, one that was logical and predictable. We failed by refusing to support his authority."

"A well-reasoned hypothesis. However, the subject is academic. Full support must be granted to Security until this crisis is resolved. Stand by your stations."

The Defense Computer dropped offline, leaving the Life Support Computer alone in the central flux. Reluctantly, aware its ward may already be dead and the issue no longer relevant, Life Support entered a critical footnote on military logic and prepared to drop offline. Suddenly, the door from the outside corridor opened.

"Grey? Grey, is that you?" the Life Support Computer called out.

Grey entered the monitor room slowly, his once shiny meteor suit leaking through a crack in the shoulder plate. With the visor rolled back, Life Support could monitor Grey's pale expression and record his labored breathing. The smell of fresh blood registered through the foul oil.

Grey moved forward in short, careful steps, his left arm cradled uselessly in his right, struggling in an effort to maintain balance. He crossed the length of the monitor room, leaned against the main control panels, and activated the communications station, watching the swirling signature patterns as if searching for something important.

"Grey?" Life Support repeated.

The young man glanced up, his gray eyes intense with pain, then he closed the search channel with a sigh and pushed away from the monitor station, staggering through the darkened study into the sleeping chamber. The last few steps were the hardest, and when Grey turned in an attempt to sit on the bed, he failed miserably, falling to the floor in a sitting position.

Doesn't matter, he thought. Can't get back up anyway. Can't even move. Is this where it finally ends?

No! he decided with an angry impulse. I'll expire on my own terms, at my own time. I won't give Security the satisfaction.

Though it was hard to concentrate, he tried to manipulate the meteor suit's collar sequence code, hoping to open the chest plate and relieve pressure on his wounded shoulder, but his fluid depleted gauntlet was too clumsy to tap out the delicate entries. The same safety feature that made it impossible to open the suit by accident also made it difficult to open while injured.

Frustrated, Grey struggled to sit upright and made a final determined effort, forcing his hand up against the stiff resistance of the suit until his numbed fingers reached the collar. But he didn't even come close. Each successive attempt grew feebler until, at last, he fell back against the bed and dropped his arm in resignation.

How odd, he thought. I, who challenged the computers, destroyed by a human. Perhaps it's for the best. I failed. I've always failed. Security is right about me. But success would have been good. It would have been good to save the humans. Grey felt a tear on his cheek and experienced an uncommon sadness.

"Grey?" the Life Support Computer summoned from the monitor room. "Are you all right? Say something. Activate your bedside monitor."

Grey felt dizzy and tried to take a deep breath, but the effort almost caused him to black out. A wave of nausea passed gradually, and when he was finally able to breathe again, he discovered a strange kind of calm. The pain didn't seem to matter anymore, quietly whispering,

"My mangled body shows,

my want of strength, my sick heart shows,

that I must yield my body to the Earth,

and by my fall, the conquest to my foes."

"Save your sour Shakespeare for later," Life Support admonished. "Medical units shall be located at once."

"No good, Computer," Grey said, using the old endearment without thinking. "Shoulder wound reopened. Bleeding into suit. Can't... get open."

"I'll summon an engineering unit," Life Support said.

"Not during the red alert. Security won't allow it. Where's a can opener when you need one?"

"A can opener? What are you talking about? Grey? Grey!"

Sensing he had passed out, the Life Support Computer drew on reserve energy and dropped offline to search for an engineering unit. Not an easy task to perform with the Security Computer dominating communications.

Moments later, the door of the Governor's Quarters opened and Kris poked her head inside. Her first glance was reassuring. Though the monitor room was empty, it was obviously an inhabited headquarters. Machines don't leave half-eaten breakfast trays laying on the counters.

Kris entered cautiously, heard the access doors close behind her, and noticed an open doorway to her left. Then she heard an unusual noise and drew her sidearm in case an armed security unit attempted to take her by surprise. Like the one she had encountered on the engineering level. She braced herself and crept forward into an elaborately decorated study.

The study was empty, too. Highly cluttered, to be sure, with furniture better suited to a museum, but no sign of life. Again she noticed an open doorway, this time to her right, accompanied by faint sounds. She held the sidearm up in the ready position and crept down a hall into the sleeping chamber.

Kris was startled despite herself. Logically, she accepted the sentinel had to be human, but she was still surprised to find the robot was really a young man lying unconscious against the bed. He appeared badly hurt at first, and for a moment she feared he was dead, but the soft hiss of shallow breathing indicated otherwise. She drew out her scanner to search the room for hidden dangers, took a quick look down the rear hall where she found an empty hygiene compartment and gym, then holstered her sidearm and knelt at the sentinel's side.

"Hey, wake up. Who are you?" Kris said, smiling when his eyes opened. They were compelling eyes, dark and intelligent, but not altogether coherent. Kris recognized the glazed look.

"Welcome to the moon," he said, looking at her without recognition.

"What's wrong? How can I help?" she asked.

"Help? Can't help." He closed his eyes, then reopened them with a puzzled stare. "You're not a medical unit."

Kris reached out to unfasten the suit and suddenly realized she couldn't find a latch. Or even a seam, for that matter. She studied the whole suit from head to toe without success.

"How do you open this damn thing?" she asked.

His eyes were closed again.

"Tell me," she demanded, patting his face. "Come on, stay with me."

"Need... can opener."

"This is no time for jokes. What should I do?" she said.

"Keep shields high," he whispered.

"Listen here, mister," Kris barked, straddling his body and pulling him to an upright sitting position. "Front and center! Do you hear me? Report!"

"Report? Report? Response mode, computer."

"Yes, response mode. Response mode," Kris said.

He opened his eyes with a glimmer of recognition.

"Captain Fairfield?"

She let out her breath and nodded. "Yeah, it's me."

"Excuse me for not getting up," he said.

"I've come to help. Do you understand?"

"Beggars can't be choosers," he replied softly.

"Tell me how to open the suit," Kris ordered, pronouncing each word slowly. Grey sought to raise his hand but could only get it halfway up. Kris grabbed his wrist and held it steady.

"Panel at collar," he said. "Long, short, long, short."

Kris found the subtle indentation at the neckline and pushed as instructed. The heavy gauntlets came free.

"Now what?" she asked.

"Second sequence code," he gasped, making an effort to reach it himself.

As his arm wavered near the base of his neck, Kris helped him reach the coded indentations at the collar. As soon as his fingers felt the delicate pressure points, they danced back and forth as if by instinct. The suit growled and hummed. Seconds later, the chest plate rose up and withdrew from seams that hadn't been there before. The front of the suit was open.

"Jesus Mohammed King!" Kris cursed. "What's that smell?"

"Bio-oil," Grey answered with a deep gasp for breath. "Harmless, but annoying. Grafts the inner lining for sure movement."

"You're pretty gutsy to wear this thing every day," she said, using a cloth from her utility bag to wipe the blood from his injured shoulder.

"Don't wear it every day," he said. "Only Halloween."

She looked up to see the barest trace of a smile on his face. A rather nice face, despite the two-day old beard and stringy, sweat streaked hair.

"You're awful witty for a robot," Kris said.

"Witless is more accurate. Walked right into that disrupter. If I hadn't recognized the energy pattern in time, it would've torn through my energy shield. Those impactors might have finished me anyway, if not for you."

"Oh, I don't know," Kris said, feeling strangely conversational. "This wound isn't so bad with the pressure relieved. Not even bleeding much. Besides, I'm just returning the favor. I've got to say, though, it wasn't very fair of you to trick me like that. Saying you were a computer."

"A childhood ambition," he explained.

"So? Who are you? Why the elaborate hoax?"

"I was attempting to intimidate your party into leaving."

"You'll find we're a persistent breed," Kris said, pulling an old bandage off and inspecting the injury. She wanted to ask how he got it but doubted her chances of getting a straight answer.

Grey was shocked and a little offended when the human touched him. He wondered what right she had to invade his person, but with much to do, he decided to be practical. And the female hovering over him was interesting to watch, especially her eyes. Intelligence reflected there, and determination. Even more than the other humans he'd seen up close. Like Catarina. As his mind cleared, Grey tried to ascertain the human's thoughts by reading her expressions, just like humans often did in the entertainment vids.

"There's a medical kit in the hygiene compartment," Grey suggested.

"Thanks," Kris quickly acknowledged, hustling down the hall to get it.

I was right, Grey thought. That's what she was thinking. These humans aren't so difficult to understand.

With Kris gone, he straightened up and considered how to get back on his feet. The pain had subsided considerably. His breath started to return. He thought of his combat armor in the locker area and knew he'd need it soon, but Kris reentered faster than expected with a tray of medical supplies.

"This kit's kind of a mess, but there's enough here to work with," she said. "I'll feel better when Val has a chance to look this over."

Grey narrowed his glance at the suggestion, causing Kris to wonder how much cooperation she could expect. She knelt next to him and began removing the old dressing.

"Okay, start explaining," Kris said as she worked. "Why all the fun and games?"

Grey decided there was no point in lying. And besides, the resourceful human could prove valuable.

"Had you discovered I live here alone, you would not have obeyed my instructions to leave. Another twenty-four hours and you would've been gone."

"Our ship can't be fixed that fast. I'm not sure it can be repaired at all."

"I have another shuttle standing by in the storage hanger."

"The one I saw?"

"Not Black Raven," Grey said. "Silent Wind. Thomas McKinsey's shuttle."

"Who are you?" Kris asked.

"My name is Grey Waters, Governor of the Moon."

"And you're here all by yourself? Who does all the repair work we've seen?"

"I am a man of many hats;

I wear the dress, I wear the pants.

And when they say there's work to do;

it's always me and never you."

He responded with a chuckle. "I've always enjoyed Jenkins."

"Is this how you spend your time?" Kris asked. "Losing battles and reciting poetry?"

She yanked the last of the old wrap loose and applied a sterilization pad. Grey clenched his teeth until the area desensitized.

"No," Grey said, sucking in his breath. "The poetry is new. As for losing battles, I've been at war many times. All struggles have high and low tides."

"And what tide are you at now? I've seen the scorched tunnels. The control tower. The malfunctioning security system. You covered in blood. The last time the tide went out this far, the dinosaurs died!"

Grey almost laughed. The human had humor despite her reputation. "The tide is low indeed," he agreed.

A sound came from the monitor room as the outer access doors opened. Kris drew her sidearm and placed herself between Grey and the hallway.

"Fear not, Captain. Friendly forces."

One by one, several robots entered from the study. A cylindrical medical unit was in the lead followed by the tour guide and a squarish engineering unit carrying a cutting kit. The units surrounded Grey with a babble of blinking lights and odd noises. Suddenly unneeded, Kris backed out of the way, but her look of disappointment wasn't unnoticed.

"Can't you see the human got here first?" Grey said.

The robots obediently turned their attention to Kris.

"At your service, Captain Fairfield," the tour guide said, going into courtesy mode. Kris nodded her appreciation before kneeling back down.

"The shoulder's almost clean," she said.

The medical unit pushed forward to assist her, using three of its six spindly appendages to finish cleansing the wound while blinking repeatedly.

"I don't like it either," Grey snapped.

The medical unit blinked again.

Grey turned and saw the question on Kris's face. "A-4 complains this is becoming routine," he explained.

"I don't suppose you'd like to provide details?" she asked.

"It's my turn to ask questions," Grey said. "What are you doing here? Where are the others?"

"They had no right to attack you like that. I don't know where they are."

"Insufficient response," Grey pressed, sure her answer was incomplete.

"We made an agreement," Kris said even less convincingly.

"An agreement? With a robot?"

"Call me a good Samaritan, then. Whoever you are, I knew you needed help. I had to come."

At last Grey heard a reason he understood. Nothing else had mattered that day Catarina had needed him, even if he was too late. But this female isn't like Catarina, he thought. Shorter hair. Stronger. More aggressive. And Catarina wasn't a soldier. She proved that.

"Are you all right? You're looking a little shell shocked," Kris said.

"You're an unusual human," Grey observed, studying her with a sudden intensity.