Logan Ryvenbark's Saga Box Set

Table of contents-20

“Ihave the honor to be his daughter, sir.”

“He’sa very fine officer and a very fine man. Did you inherit hismilitaryability?”

“Somepeople say so, sir.”

Ismiled. “I’m sure of that, Ameri. Welcome to the Rangers. Andmay you and Lt. Diamond be very happy!”

“Thankyou, sir.”

Asshe walked out, Rab walked in and saluted.

“Wouldthe major like to inspect the MITTs before we takeoff?”

Istill don’t know why we call our military robots MITTs. Should beMIROs. Military robots. Maybe MITTs simply rolls easier off thetongue. I always wondered if it was a typo that became embedded inmilitary jargon.

“Whyshould I? Don’t they look about the same as the last time I sawthem?”

Sometimesa master sergeant has to control his disbelief. Rab did a prettygoodjob of it. I noticed only the slightest twitch of his lips. Theyhadformed a sarcastic smile for a split second and then straightenedback out. There was no disbelief in his voice as heanswered.

“Probably,sir. But most commanders like to take a quick look at them beforewemove out.”

“Attimes I wonder why I should observe tradition,” I said. “Anyway,lead on.”

Wewalked out, got into an elevator and dropped about five stories. Iwas glad Rab knew his way around the corridors. I would have gottenlost. Had doors sliding open and closing all the way to ourdestination. The final door dilated and I walked into a room withabout fifty of the MITTs.

Theydid look about the same as the last time I checked them. All areabout six-feet-six and had been built with a silver metal. They hadbeen turned off. So all held their brown laser gun in silverfingers.If we plugged them in – a phrase their techno-designers reallydespise – they would start moving. Actually they salute much betterthan regular soldiers and they always say ‘sir’. What is a bitunnerving about them is when they open their eyelids, their eyeslookhuman. Human eyes staring out of a metallic, and very strong, body.Ihave no idea why they were designed that way. I would have done itdifferently, but I’m not military robotic designer. When theyclicked alert and stood at attention I assumed Rab had pulled acomputer level somewhere. One walked out from the others andsaluted.

“Readyto proceed, Major Ryvenbark.”

“Gladto hear it. I’m sure we will be calling on yourservices.”

“Weare proud to be a part of Ryvenbark’s Raiders.”

Thevoice held so much emotion and passion I almost believedhim.

“We’reglad to have you here.”

Hesaluted and marched back into line, then went still. I assumed Rabhad unplugged them again. When he walked up to me, I nodded.

“Theylook fine.”

“Thinkwe’ll put them to use on this assignment?”

“Idon’t know. I hope not. I hope we find Belen’s team. After wesnatch them up, we head home. No trouble. No shot fired inanger.”

“Whenhas that ever happened?”

“There’salways a first time, Rab.”

“Ihope so.”

Aswe walked back to the elevator, he cleared his throat.

“Bythe way, sir. Weren’t you going to retire?”

“Idid, for about a week. It got a bit dull.”

“Havea bad golf game?”

“Well,that too. Couldn’t hit a thing. Actually, Astrid told me she wassurprised I lasted that long.”

“Goodto have you back. You sort of get used to the same commandingofficer. You don’t want to change. So hard to break a new onein.”

“Ican imagine,” I said, as the elevator doors closed behindus.

Chapter 3

Thehyper-lightspeed velocity of the ship didn’t bother the greatBoston Red Sox slugger Ted Williams as he stepped up to the plate.Ihad the game on a fifty-inch screen and settled back in my blackcushioned executive office chair. When you’re the commander you getone of those. Williams, thin as a toothpick, was nicknamed the‘Splendid Splinter’. His career in the major leagues wasshortened by two tours in the United States Army, the second comingin the Korean War when the army needed pilots. Williams was a goodone, but he was bitter about the two years spent in Korea. Hefiguredhis duty to his country had been done. I sympathized with him.Without losing those two years, his Hall of Fame numbers would havebeen even higher. He whisked his bat around. He was facing thealmostequally great Warren Spahn, one of the best left-handers theAtlantaBraves ever had and one of the best left-handers in the history ofbaseball. Spahn had some of his best years when the Braves remainedin Milwaukee. They had finished first in the National League twiceinthe late nineteen fifties and won one World Series.

Spahnhad a challenge. After facing Williams, he would pitch to CarlYastrzemski, another Hall of Famer that played in the nineteensixties and seventies. Yastrzemski almost carried his team tovictoryin the 1967 World Series. But while he hit more than 400 againstthefantastic fast-baller Bob Gibson, the rest of his teammates werealmost shut out. They couldn’t produce any runs in the last gamewhich the Red Sox lost.

Spahnwound up and threw a curve that edged over the plate. Williamspounded it and it soared over first base dropping just an inch onthewrong side of the white foul line. If it had hit the chalk,Williamswould have had a double, at least. I figured Spahn would tossanothercurve or change-up. It was extremely difficult to get Williams outona fast ball. He was so quick he could get around on almost all fastballs. To get the ball into the catcher’s mitt, Spahn would have tomake sure there was plenty of movement on it. His next pitch wasfastand had movement, but it just missed the plate as it slammed intothecatcher’s glove.

Forhis next pitch, Spahn tried another curve but Williams swungquicklyand drove it into left field. It rolled to the fence. Williams wasstanding on second when the ball was thrown back into theinfield.

ForSpahn it was not a good way to begin an inning. Now he had to faceYaz. In his career, he had never faced a lineup like this. The bestplayers from the 20th,21st,and 22ndRed Sox teams. Of course, the Red Sox pitcher would have to facethebest players from the Braves during that time period.

“Yourealize that is not why the military created theseultra-ultra-ultra-ultra-sophisticated war machines?” Astrid said,as she walked in. “They were designed for otherreasons.”

“Whichshows us the creativity and ingenuity of humans,” I said. “Do yourealize you can play the 1927 Philadelphia Athletics against theincredible 2073 Detroit Tigers on this computer and see who wouldwin?”

“Isthat a question that has been haunting baseball fanatics for acentury or so?”

“Yes,and we can also see who would win in the game between the bestplayers in the history of the Boston/Milwaukee/Atlanta Bravesagainstthe best players in the history of the Boston RedSox.”

“Andwho’s winning?”

“Rightnow the Red Sox 2-1, but it’s only the third inning.”

Sheleaned against the desk and crossed her arms. “You know Logan, Idon’t know why the retirement thing didn’t work out. You’d bevery happy playing your baseball games during the morning, playinggolf in the afternoon and going back to baseball during theevening.”

“Wow!Very good!” I yelled, as Yaz slammed a double off the center fieldfence. “Spahn may not have it today.”

“Seewhat I mean?” Astrid said. “You’d be content with this foryears. I could leave for a month and when I’d come back you’dask, ‘Been away?’”

Iwatched Fred Lynn step up to the plate.

“Nottrue. In two or three days I’d notice you were missing. Four at themost.”

Astridchuckled. She grabbed my face in her hands and laughed. “It’s agood thing that I love you, or I’d smack you for thatremark.”

“Yes,I love you too and isn’t modern technologywonderful.”

“I’mfifty-fifty on the second half of that remark.”

Agrounder to the second baseman was scooped up in a glove and tossedto the first baseman. Williams moved to third on the throw. Therewasone out but David Ortiz stepped up to the plate. A good-sized man,Ortiz had a quick swing. He was on the Red Sox teams of the firstyears of the 21stcentury and was a major reason why Boston won three World Seriesduring a decade. The victory in 2004 was the team’s first WorldSeries win since 1918.

Managersprefer a right-handed hitter against a left-handed pitcher,althoughSpahn could usually get left-handers out equally as well in hiscareer. But Ortiz was not the ordinary left-hander.

Spahnstood on the mound and checked the runner, although Williams wasn’tgoing to steal home. Not with Ortiz at the plate. Spahn tossed afastball. Ortiz must have thought it was inside, but the umpirecalled it a strike.

Theintercom buzzed.

“Shucks,”I said, as I flicked a switch to stop the game. Admiral Nikanawa’svoice came over the speaker.

“Major,we’ve just had a communication from the expeditionteam.”

“Whatdid they say?”

“Themessage was garbled and full of static. We could only make outaboutfive words. “Under attack. Send help. Hurry!’’

Chapter 4

Ismoked the cigar in silence. I had lost all interest in the game.Isipped the whiskey in my glass.

Waiting.That’s the most damnable part of this profession. I have scars –or I did before the nanobytes took care of them. Jagged red marksacross the chest and back and one long ugly bruise running fromthighto ankle. The medical nanobytes performed microscopic operationsandmade me young again. Those wounds heal, but the more personalwoundsdo not. When you lose a friend on the battlefield, the nanobytescan’t help. You chalk it up to life, or death, for this is theprofession you have chosen and losing friends is one of the risks.One of the defensive machinations is simply to become a loner andrefuse to establish friends. It’s understandable, but I could neverdo it.

Thatis the toughest part of being a professional soldier. The secondtoughest is knowing there are people in the distance who need helpand it takes at least three days – at the best hyper-light-speed wecan manage – before you can get to them. You need to mentallydepartmentalize. Go about your ordinary duties and not think aboutit, or at least not obsess about it. Because you are totally,absolutely helpless until the ship arrives at itsdestination.

Medicalnanos can do more than repair flesh. At my order they released thelow-grade sedatives into the blood stream. We all have them and, tothe best of my knowledge, we all use them, except Astrid. She getsalong without them. It’s another amazing aspect of her.

Iswallowed the rest of the whiskey in the glass and turned the gameback on.

Therewas nothing else I could do.

Wecame out of hyperspace three days later and circled Verdunne. Theadmiral alerted me that our sensors picked up a disabled ship, theBelarus II.That was Belen’s ship. Sensors revealed something else too. Deadbodies. Wreckage inside. The helm was a twisty mess of metal andwires. Three dozen bodies lay sprawled on various decks. Tragic,butthere were more than a hundred crewmen and women on the ship. Whichmeant more than sixty had traveled to the planet. And some of themmight still be alive.

“Iassume we are scanning?”

“Weare, sir, and we should have a fix for you soon.”

Itold Rab to have the squadron and the MITTs ready; both groupsfiledtoward the Shuttle Ships. I grabbed my laser rifle and headed tothehelm. When I got there, the admiral smiled and saluted.

“Thinkwe got it for you, major.” He pointed to a huge screen. “Ourfriends are boxed in. This looks like their laststand.”

Strategicallyit was a good place for a last stand. About fifty men and womenfiledbehind a makeshift wall, which looked it was made of shuttle ships.Their back was to one of the oceans on the planet. But two mountainranges stretched before them and the two left a small openingbetweenthem. That’s where the shuttle ships lay, making the makeshiftwall. Soldiers, on top of the ships, fired at the advancinginvaders.The attackers couldn’t get behind the humans unless they climbedover the mountains. There was only one path – straight down thevalley into the human gunfire. But if the invaders made it…

Istudied the advancing group carefully. They were not human. Iguessedthey were androids or robots. Golden machines firing weapons astheyadvanced. And they advanced like robots, not like human armies.Robots, or androids, or cyborgs do not charge an opponent. Theysimply walk forward. Human armies have always charged and alwayswill. But machines, having no emotion, will walk toward an opposingarmy.

Fromthis distance I saw nothing distinctive about these roboticsoldiers.I didn’t recognize their weapons, which shot yellow bolts towardthe shuttle ships and human opponents. The gold robots didn’tappear in any great hurry. They didn’t have to be.

“Howmany are there?” I asked.

“Abouttwo thousand, major. A couple of other thousand are at variousotherplaces on the planet,” the admiral replied.

“Whatare they?”

“ThatI don’t know. Can’t get much of a reading from them.”

“OK,pinpoint our weapons and blow them away. I’m taking the shuttles torescue our squad.”

“Yes,sir.”

Igot to the shuttle as the pilot was taking off. I almost had tojumpas the door closed. We zoomed toward the surface. As we left, Isawthe yellow lasers shoot toward the planet. TheRangerTwohad expert marksmen as theWeapons Officers. It’s not easy targeting a small spot of groundfrom thousands of miles in space but the WOs could do it.

“Whenwe hit the ground fan out and give our friends support. Thereshouldn’t be many stragglers left after our attack, but if theyare, kill them. I don’t think negotiations will workhere.”

Aswe flew closer, I watched as the bombs devastated the goldsoldiers,blowing them right and left. A firebomb spread intense orangeflameson the ground, but the robots came through, unsinged. But theexplosives blew arms and legs off them.

Afireball seared past us as we dropped lower. I saw the gold guywiththe Launcher. He stood next to a tree. The next second the treecracked and exploded sending thousands of pieces of wood and barkthrough the air. Pieces of the gold guy spun in ten differentdirections too.