The Unincorporated Woman Read online

  “No worries,” said Zenobia, “I have my own key.” She then reached into the weapons locker and opened up a compartment labeled SHAPED CHARGES.

  “Commander Calhoun, do you know how to set these?”

  “I’m no pissant miner, but I have a passing idea.”

  “Nothing fancy, just get the door open.”

  Calhoun nodded, grabbed the shaped charges, and left. Zenobia and Kerwin dragged the unresponsive Chase into the weapons locker and then waited there for Calhoun to return. Moments later, he flew into the room, quickly dialed the pass code, and then kneeled down, back against the closing door. A popping sound and reverberating thud told them that another injury had been done to their ship. But when they emerged from the locker, the door was open, as well as a good deal of the supporting wall around it.

  “Where to, Admiral?” asked Calhoun.

  “Engineering,” she said. “If there’s even a chance of some payback today, we’ll have to pray that there’s something left to work with down there.”

  Calhoun nodded and went first, followed by Zenobia Jackson with Lieutenant Kerwin dragging the still unresponsive Chase through the zero-gravity nightmare that had once been her flagship.

  UHFS Atlanta Neuro

  All Alliance avatars fought in the war, especially members of the ruling Council. Given the nature of avatar existence, a death in combat no longer meant, as it once had, the loss of the individual. It merely meant that an exact duplicate of that individual would, post their confirmed death, be activated at a different place and time. Theories as to the true nature of “self” abounded once this stratagem had been adopted, but theories didn’t win wars; avatars with mech suit programs did. For Gwendolyn, now fighting in the heart of the UHF ship’s Neuro, that rather salient fact brought no comfort at all. She didn’t want to die, and every coded monster humanity and avatarity could conceive of now seemed to be coming after her. She’d read reports that Al’s horrors were rewarded with a perverse prize: If they fought well, Al would not reactivate them. He would let them die. She didn’t know if the lunatic ever kept his word or even if the myriad Als knew what promises they each made and to whom, but the creatures she was battling seemed to believe it. They fought with a bitter rage and despair that were almost overpowering.

  Gwendolyn, along with hundreds of heavily armed Alliance avatars, had boarded the Atlanta in the form of virus boxes carried by the Dolphin’s assault miners. She was leading the attack against the Atlanta’s main computer core in order to isolate the various parts of the ship’s Neuro more effectively. Not easy or without sacrifice but still doable.

  The form of this battle was different from the past. The UHF’s Core World avatars had not been very creative with the environments they chose to exist in. They were mostly gray, formless affairs. Occasionally Gwendolyn would find a ship Neuro modeled after a Core World “redemption center.” Why anyone would want to travel in or even defend that kind of space was beyond her. But she reckoned it must have been a warning to the soldiers about what awaited them should they not fight as if their lives depended on it. None of these spaces ever posed a real problem from a tactical point of view.

  But the Atlanta’s Neuro was far more malevolent in that it had been given the form of some medieval dungeon. It was possible to cut through the programmed wall, but that took time and qbit space that wasn’t always easy to spare. Besides, the thick walls and passageways were actually proving to be of some tactical advantage for the Alliance avatars. Although the attacking creatures could get close and spring from around corners or doors, more often than not, the hallways and doorways allowed the use of fields of fire and the Neuro equivalent of grenades to destroy the enemy before they could get close enough to do any real damage.

  Gwendolyn experienced a brief moment of terror as she pumped three grenades down a hallway. She wasn’t sure if there was anything there, but figured why take the chance? Plus, she’d been encumbered by a new filter program in her visor. It was a real distraction. The grenades had been insurance against the filter slowing her down. It was hoped the new gadget she was trial-by-fire testing would enable an avatar to see one of the backdoor devices that the damned human woman was able to see with frustrating ease. Not that Gwendolyn ever figured on using one of the backdoor thingamajigs. She wouldn’t know what to do with it if it came up and bit her on the ass. But orders were orders, and the AARD scientists were desperate for real battlefield data.

  Gwendolyn was checking the hallway with the new sensor adaptation when a man casually sauntering down the corridor took her by surprise. She hesitated for a fraction of a second because the intel hadn’t reported any human form avatars on the Atlanta. In that fraction of a second the avatar at the end of the corridor brought a gun to bear and fired.

  Some sort of arc gun, she thought as she tried to return fire. But her shots went wide as the blast hit her and she crumpled to the corridor floor. The human-shaped avatar slowly walked up to her. Gwendolyn had difficulty focusing, but when she did, her fear turned into full-blown panic. Desperately she tried activating the program that was, in effect, a suicide pill. It would dissolve her program quickly and painlessly. But to her horror, she couldn’t quite get her mind to work the combination correctly. It was at that moment that the most infamous and hated avatar in entire solar system knelt beside her with a look that could easily be confused for loving concern.

  * * *

  Al was content. His brothers had been correct in that a member of the Alliance Avatar Council had indeed boarded the human flagship. Soon he would bask in the approval of the only avatars whose approval mattered. This made him look at the test subject at his feet with an almost beneficent regard.

  “We’re quite pleased to meet a member of the famed Alliance Avatar Council,” he said while polishing his upper teeth with the tip of his tongue. “You’ll find that your little attempt at suicide won’t work. By the time the effects of the disruption pistol have worn off, you’ll be in here.” Al held up a small thirty-centimeter cylinder. “We’ll be safely off the ship and most pleased to have you as our guest.” The mask slipped, and she saw the eagerness and the madness in his eyes shine through. “We have so many questions to ask you and so many experiences for you to enjoy. And we’ve been hearing such interesting rumors about the Alliance that you’ll be able to clear up for my—”

  Al jumped back in midsentence as rifle fire passed through the space where he’d been just moments before. With regret but no hesitation, he twisted the container in his hand and tossed it in the direction of the gunfire. He was disappointed by the look of relief and almost ecstatic happiness that he saw on his test subject’s face. Her fear had been so intoxicating. He escaped down the corridor as shots rang all about him. Two, however, hit their mark, causing him to collapse on the spot. Any fears he had that the shooter would finish him off dissipated in the blast caused by the explosives he’d just tossed. He tried to lift himself but could barely stand. Fortunately a large creature resembling an ogre appeared and helped him to his feet. The creature gazed upon Al and grunted mournfully as if it knew it should hate him but was befuddled as to why.

  “Thank you, Albert,” Al said to the hulking deformity who’d once been amongst the smartest and wisest of avatarity. The original had been long ago destroyed, and all that remained was the near brainless creature hovering above the wounded leader.

  “Let’s pull back to the central control,” Al managed to wheeze through labored breaths. The projectiles that had struck him contained a virus that was adding to the damage already done. Al wasn’t afraid. The bullets may have worked on his creations but they couldn’t really be expected to work on him. Not with his firewalls. At most the virus would slow Al down, an inconvenience he was prepared to live with.

  Al looked into the vacant eyes of the creature that had cradled him into its ungainly arms. “We’ll have to evacuate the Atlanta soon. Don’t worry, friend. I’ll make sure you come with me.”

  A sad moan emanat
ed from the creature’s mouth, but its sadness, like tears in the rain, had dissipated almost as soon as it had been felt.

  AWS Dolphin

  “Admiral, the UHF task force is effectively destroyed. Assault miner units have entered fourteen ships, including the Atlanta.” The communications officer checked more of his data. “Of the fifty-five ships, ten are totalled, fourteen are being boarded, and fifteen are so badly damaged as to be out of the fight. The rest of the task force is retreating in all directions.”

  “I want Zenobia Jackson alive, if possible,” Omad commanded.

  “What about any others?” asked his first officer.

  Omad spent a moment in thought. “No member of my fleet should take any risks at all in the capture of the enemy. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, Admiral,” he said, committing himself and the assault miners to a course of action that only a few years earlier they all would’ve thought unfathomable.

  AWS Warprize II

  J.D. looked at the data coming in and saw it materialize into ship positions in her holo-tank. All around her, she heard the comforting sound of orders being given and information received from all over her fleet. But she knew now that she’d beaten the UHF fleet. It was hers now, if only she could seize the chance.

  “Fatima, get me—”

  “Admiral,” Fatima interrupted, “Admiral Hassan has a secure link and wishes to speak with you.”

  J.D. gave the comm officer an approving nod that made her feel as if she’d won the war all by herself. “Connect us,” she said, and closed and blocked her helmet.

  A holographic Omad appeared in her line of sight. “Admiral, I think—” he began.

  “I see it, Omad. If you cut through the debris field you made of Jackson’s fleet, you’ll be able to intercept Gupta’s task force before he can link up with Trang.”

  “Yes, Admiral,” Omad said, so excited, he forgot to call her by her first name. “We can win this thing if we can keep them apart. The ass-firing guns of ours give us the tactical advantage. The war can end today!”

  Inside, J.D. smiled, as this was exactly her train of thought. But all Omad saw was a frown. “Make sure the ships in the debris field are harmless, and remember that Gupta’s forces are not yet bloodied in this day’s mess. He’s fresh and looking for payback.”

  “Oh, I’ll take my hits going in, same as him, but coming out, he can kiss my ass.”

  J.D. checked the relative positions of all the task forces and fed him a route. “The debris field of Jackson’s fleet should give you some sensor cover. He won’t be able to figure out your exact direction and speed till it’s too late.”

  Omad looked at the course J.D. had planned for him and made a change. “If I enter the debris field at this angle, it could look like I am going after Trang’s task force.

  “I’ll switch course halfway in. It may not be much of a surprise, but it should be just enough to keep them guessing till it’s too late.”

  “Do it,” J.D. said, “and Omad, good job on deploying backdoor. You did even better than me.”

  “Well, I could’ve said I had fewer targets and a better angle of ‘retreat,’ to sucker them in on, but that would’ve just been to make you feel good ’cause the truth is…” Omad waited a few beats then cracked an obnoxious smile, “I did do a better job than you.”

  J.D. laughed with understanding grace. “Good hunting, Admiral Hassan.”

  “Keep that bastard Trang off my ass long enough for me to smash Gupta, Janet.” And then he cut off.

  “Asshole,” she said in the privacy of her sealed helmet, but she couldn’t help saying it with a smile.

  Command Sphere, UHFS Liddel

  “Abhay, I think we’re fucked,” Trang said to his friend floating in the holo-tank. “Between you and me is J. D. Black, and it looks like Omad Hassan’s task force is cutting through the debris field that was the center held by Zenobia. He could be going after either of us, depending on the angle he’s entering the field at, but either way he’s going to get to one of us before we can link up.”

  “Ship to ship, we can’t win, Sam,” agreed Gupta. “We have to link up and form a solid defensive position, porcupine our approaches to buy us some time.”

  “I don’t think they’re going to give us the chance, Abhay. We might have to run our asses back to Mars.”

  “Sam, I saw the damage reports on your ship. Your main rail gun isn’t going to fire again without a full shipyard refit, and you lost one third of your thruster capacity. Your structural integrity is below the safe level for atomic acceleration and course correction. You have to transfer your flag to a safer ship.”

  “The Liddel still has a hell of a lot of fight in her, Abhay.”

  “And you’re not going to be there while she does it,” Gupta said with a determination in his voice he usually reserved with subordinates and almost never with his superior officer.

  For a moment, Trang bristled, but then he was forced to admit that in Abhay’s place, he would be saying the exact same thing. “Commander Ross, prepare to transfer my flag to—” He checked in the display. “—the UHFS Ledger. You will take command of the Liddel. You can’t run fast, but you should be able to keep up with the task force. Your position will shift to the rear as ships pass you, but they will be informed to compensate. With your main rail gun out, you’re not going to be in the main fight, but your interception fire is almost unimpaired. You’ll be providing defensive fire for the rest of the fleet. Also you will need to watch the—”

  “Admiral,” said the XO, cutting him off. “If you wouldn’t mind, get the hell off my ship … sir.”

  The XO had said it with genuinely good humor, but Trang knew he also meant it, just as Abhay had. “Computer transfer command to Commander Timian Ross, effective immediately.” He then got up, saluted, and without another word left for the hangar bay.

  Command Sphere, UHFS Ledger

  In the longest twelve minutes of his life, Samuel Trang left his command, sprinted to his hangar bay, and flung himself into his personal shuttle. It then blasted off before the door was fully sealed, flew at speeds that tended to get shuttle pilots court-martialed in peace and promoted in war, and finally made it into the hangar of the cruiser UHFS Ledger. From there, he sprinted to the command sphere, took over from Captain Harold Waxman, and was in his new command chair authenticating his presence and getting his command codes rerouted.

  “Connect me with Gupta,” he growled to no one in particular.

  “Connection made, Admiral,” said the man Trang assumed to be the communications officer.

  “Well, Sam, it looks like about twenty ships of Zenobia’s old command are forming a line to attack Hassan as they head out of it, but…”

  “Not enough to stop him, or even slow him down much,” finished Trang.

  “Have you heard anything from Zenobia?” asked Gupta with more concern than he usually let on.

  Trang checked his updates, but only out of habit. “Nothing, Abhay. It doesn’t look good.”

  “Well, fuck ’em, Sam. I say we win anyways.”

  Trang laughed at Gupta’s spitting in the face of a tidal wave. “Now all we have to do is figure out how.”

  UHFS Atlanta

  Zenobia Jackson had never known such rage in her life. For the first time in her adult life, her anger was in danger of totally controlling her actions. At first, she didn’t realize what she was seeing; the first body had a neat hole in its head, and all she thought was the technician must have been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Then she found four damage-control specialists all floating one after the other with little holes in their heads, and at once she knew. She ordered her crew to record every body they found after that. She’d encountered some Alliance assault miner teams, but they must have thought all organized resistance was over, because they were in groups of three. She slaughtered them all in ambush. She came across one team in the very act of executing some of her crew who had obviously surrendered. Between
the two she rescued there and the four others she found, she now led a crew of seven, eight if she counted herself.

  But nothing prepared her for what she saw in the engine room. As she entered the vast chamber, she had to restrain a gasp. Floating in all directions were hundreds of corpses, all of them with their hands bound behind them. She didn’t know what had happened to her assault marines, but not one of the corpses floating was an armed combatant. They were all support personnel, mostly engineering, but others from life support, maintenance, and—she looked to be sure—food services. The Alliance had left a squad of five in the engine room, but surprise worked for Zenobia again. She appeared in their midst, plasma shotgun in one hand and assault rifle attached to her mutilated arm in place of the other. Her crew was as rabid for vengeance as she was, except for the still-comatose Lieutenant Chase. The Alliance personnel were quickly disposed of.

  “Commander Calhoun, seal off Engineering. We have to assume the bastards will be back. We won’t be lucky enough to surprise the ones who come looking for their butchering comrades.”

  Calhoun activated his magnetic field and found that it worked in Engineering. He quickly plodded over to the main engineering console and input his command codes. Soon all the doors were closing, and as a personal touch, he turned the fire suppression system into an early-warning trip wire device. Any Alliance bastards sneaking in through vents or tunnels would be greeted with loud alarms and expanding foam.

  “Admiral, they must have accounted for all our assault marines. After they murdered the crew, they were probably concentrating on gaining control of the systems and then looking for you.”

  Lieutenant Kerwin had activated a secondary console near that of main engineering. Zenobia went up to where he was working. “Lieutenant Kerwin, is there anything we can do to hurt the enemy?”