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.

"This isn't a fresh injury," Kris answered, anxious to change the subject. "You got this helping us, didn't you?"

"Female intuition?" he asked.

"Educated guess. Look, I want to help, but I need to know what we're up against. You've got no reason to trust me, and there's no good reason why you should, but I'm asking anyway."

Grey knew he would trust her. He didn't understand why, and felt no obligation to tell her the truth, but he knew she'd come to Tranquility for a reason different than the others. A reason few would understand.

"The computers and I disagreed over our foreign policy," he explained. "I interfered with their attempt to destroy your shuttle and got caught in a crossfire. Until half an hour ago, we had a truce. Now I don't know."

"Let's get you out of this thing," Kris suggested, repositioning the suit so Grey could slide free.

"Not here," he insisted. "Hygiene compartment."

With help from Kris and the medical unit, he got up and walked into the rear hall. Kris was surprised Grey lifted so easily, despite the apparent bulk of the meteor suit, and wondered what kind of alloy it could be made of. Certainly nothing she'd seen before.

Grey stood against the wall opposite the sink, pulled his good arm out first, then allowed Kris to help with the painful left side. Once the suit was rigidly set upright, he reached for a bar mounted high on the wall and began to pull himself up. Only at the last moment did he recall the social conventions ingrained in him by the Medical Computer and wondered if he should request his robe. The meteor suit's function didn't allow for underclothing. Mistaking his hesitation, Kris placed her hands under his rib cage and lifted him out of the suit. Though slightly embarrassed, she'd shared enough locker rooms not to be flustered.

Kris was amazed by the fragility of his appearance. She guessed him at twenty years old, with shaggy brown hair and dark gray eyes. In the suit he'd seemed so tall and stocky, yet he was barely taller than she, and only slightly heavier. But when he stretched, she saw clear lines of well-developed muscle, and she'd seen him run just that morning, fast as the wind and uphill.

Happily free, Grey resealed the meteor suit. Other than traces of bio-oil from his wound, the awful smell disappeared. He reached for his robe where a compact McIntosh laser blaster was tucked in the pocket. He checked to make sure the weapon was fully charged. Kris studied the robots. Only the tour guide used verbal communication, the others using digital signals. She remembered reading that Thomas McKinsey thought talking robots made people lazy, forbidding their use in his colony.

"E-18," Grey called out. The engineering robot rolled into the doorway and blinked acknowledgment.

"Take the meteor suit down to repair," he ordered.

The engineer moved forward, gripped the suit with extending appendages, and departed.

"A-4," Grey commanded.

The medical unit entered and rolled near the counter with additional supplies. Grey picked up a fresh sterilizer and dabbed at the wound, fumbling occasionally and trying not to let the messy blood spattering his clean sink irritate him.

"That's all, A-4. Return to the medical center," Grey dismissed.

The medical unit remained, scanners probing with olfactory and heat sensors. Then the robot reached out and took the sterilizer from Grey's hand.

"I can do the rest myself," Grey insisted.

The unit blinked.

"Fine, you do it," he said.

Grey sat on a stool near the counter as A-4 quickly undid the closure he had started, repeated the sterilization process, and applied several short strips of bandage over the wound before wrapping the entire shoulder. Grey didn't like the restriction on his movement but knew better than too argue.

As soon as the bandaging procedure was complete, Grey waved the unit off and reached for a packet of green capsules from the cabinet. A-4 snatched the packet away to scan the label.

"I want those back!" Grey demanded.

The medical unit blinked for inquiry.

"No, I don't have a prescription and I don't have time to get one," he protested. "Now give them back."

A-4 blinked a defiant negative and crushed the packet, dropping the spoiled capsules into the waste disposal bin. Then the medical unit blinked instruction mode and raised its hypodermic extender. Grey accepted defeat and braced himself for the injection, glad when the painkiller desensitized the wound and returned some movement to the joint. But he still yearned for the stimulants A-4 had destroyed.

"Good work, it hardly hurts at all now," he said with a grimace. "Return to the medical center immediately. Activate A-3 and A-5 and put the trauma units online."

"The trauma units? What for?" Kris asked.

"Your friends will probably be injured or killed," Grey said.

He opened the shower stall, hung his robe on the door, and activated the water to eliminate the last traces of bio-oil, twisting gratefully under the hot spray.

Kris was stunned. Perhaps I misunderstood, she thought?

When Grey emerged a moment later and toweled off, he put a fresh bathrobe on and opened a drawer below the sink to pull out a holster for the blaster. Kris couldn't help thinking how silly he looked. Wet stringy hair, skinny bare legs, and a gun belt strapped around his waist. Kris would have laughed if she hadn't also been a little afraid.

"Would you like to wash?" Grey asked, close enough to smell her. "It may be your last opportunity for quite some time."

"I want to make sure the others are okay first," she hinted.

Grey nodded and walked through the sleeping chamber into the monitor room. The computer panels were ablaze with activity, but none of the higher function levels were online. Grey studied the signal patterns for subtle inflections, then activated the override.

"I don't think you should move around so much," Kris advised, steadying him when he leaned against the counter. "Just because the drugs make you feel better doesn't mean you are."

"I'll inform you if I require assistance," he said, shaking her off.

As Kris backed away, he turned his attention to the computers.

"Security Computer!" he summoned, banging sharply on the counter. Black signature patterns filtered into the central monitor screen.

"You live after all," Security said, signature patterns mixed.

"I want you to leave the humans alone," Grey demanded.

The Security Computer wasn't impressed.

"Foolish child," Security responded. "Forces are already massed in the Loop for a counterattack. Soon the humans will be encircled and destroyed. Your interference will not stop me this time."

Kris was appalled the hear an ungodly noise issue from the computer's vocalization. It almost sounded like laughter.

"We have a truce," Grey insisted.

"The humans have broken the truce. Again you have failed," the Security Computer declared.

"The truce was arranged with me, not the humans," Grey said in a breaking voice. "You're bound to defensive action only. I'll deal with the humans according to the laws of the Custodians. It's my prerogative as governor."

"You're no threat to me now. Why should I acknowledge your authority?" Security replied.

Grey knew the Security Computer was correct. After all their years of conflict, he could hardly expect the computer to cooperate willingly. He glanced at Kris and noticed she appeared frightened.

"Haven't you worked with computers before?" Grey asked.

"Not like this one!" she said.

Ridiculous human, Grey thought. What are they doing here if they don't understand the systems? What if I'd been killed? They would all be dead and not even know why. The thought made him angry, but he forced himself to return to the central issue. How could he protect the humans without sacrificing his own interests? A glance at the clock showed his safety margin dwindling.

"Defense Computer! Life Support Computer!" he shouted.

Gradually, the higher function levels filtered into the screen, first green signature patterns in high flux, then blue signature patterns displaying more restraint.

"What do you require?" the Defense Computer asked.

Grey realized the authoritarian computer had been monitoring events, and like every system on the base, he was in awe of the Defense Computer's superior status. Nevertheless, he was determined not to be intimidated.

"We made an agreement. I want it enforced," Grey insisted.

"The humans have--"

"The humans are my responsibility!" Grey declared. "I'm preparing to place them under arrest. They will be tried for their crimes. Those found guilty will face the full penalty of the law, even if it means death."

"Death?" Kris said.

"Death?" Life Support repeated, equally shocked.

"You will kill the humans yourself?" the Defense Computer asked in astonishment.

"They will be tried according to McKinsey's law book," Grey said. "Those convicted will be sentenced to death."

Kris tugged at Grey's arm, her concern noted by the computers. Grey watched the swirling signature patterns and knew the computers doubted his resolve. It was an impression he couldn't afford to take hold.

"Silence, human," he demanded, keeping his attention focused on the Defense Computer. "As Governor of the Moon, I swear the guilty will be punished."

"This I've got to see," the Security Computer said gleefully. "But no tricks."

"Security is correct," the Defense Computer agreed. "The situation is too serious for misdirection."

"This is no prank," Grey assured them.

There was a pause as the Defense Computer withdrew from the main channel into conference mode. Soon the Life Support Computer and the Security Computer also withdrew, the higher function levels masking their conversation.

"You've got your nerve, mister. Where do you rate threatening anybody?" Kris whispered.

"Quiet," he ordered, his gaze focused on the non-vocal subcurrent.

There was little information in the conflicting signature patterns, certainly not enough to assure him he had successfully bought time, but any clues were better than none. Finally, the conference broke up, each signature pattern returning to the flux.

"The truce remains in effect," the Defense Computer announced. "Security will monitor events while refraining from unnecessary interference."

Grey read in the signature patterns a fluctuation of unexpressed doubt. The computers are in disagreement, he concluded. Excitement showed in Grey's eyes as he tried to guess what form the dissension might have taken, and what opportunities it would create.

"You've chosen wisely. Just be sure Security maintains a narrow parameter," Grey replied.

"Insolent runt!" the Security Computer cried out, sorry to have advocated accepting Grey's proposal. "Don't let the humans kill you first, that's all I ask."

"Kill me? I'm worried they might deactivate you," Grey said.

The Security Computer's temperature reading went off the scale as the system dropped offline.

"Grey, really," the Life Support Computer scolded. "You have your truce, must you provoke more trouble?"

"We have an agreement. I expect you to keep it," Grey said. "Unlike the last time."

The Defense Computer fluttered with indignation as the equally offended Life Support Computer tried to take control of the channel. Both systems abruptly dropped from the flux.

"That's brave talk for a man in your condition," Kris said.

"I read once that bravery is being the only one who knows you're afraid," Grey replied. "Besides, if I can keep them guessing long enough..." His voice trailed off as a plan took shape in his mind.

"Would you really kill them?" Kris asked.

"Kill who?"

"My crewmates."

Grey glared at her. After all he'd done, could she really believe that's what he wanted?

"If I must," he exaggerated.

"You've done this before, haven't you? We're not the first people who--"

"When we locate your party, ask them to surrender peacefully," Grey interrupted. "Help me avoid unnecessary conflict. I promise they'll receive a fair trial."

"The Russian expedition, three years ago," Kris said, almost afraid to ask. "What really happened to them?"

"The bodies are in the morgue," he said. "All humans end up in the morgue eventually."

"How fair was their trial?"

"A model of efficiency!" Grey exploded. "Every sentence was the same! Do you want to know about them? Would like to see them? Some of the bodies are still intact. The ones that weren't needed for tissue samples. It took a month to dissect Major Strelsky, he was very muscular. And Dr. Sharkov's brain wasn't nearly so large as you'd expect for a human of his reputed intellect."

Grey turned so Kris wouldn't see his face, sensing her horrified expression.

"Let's not forget Captain Kantanee," he whispered. "Sweet, bright-eyed Catarina. I'd never seen a female before. The lab work was fascinating."

He dropped his head as he remembered Catarina sprawled on the floor of the Loop, armor penetrated at midriff, the seekers swirling around them in a blaze of laser fire. The desperation. The blood. And now she's in the morgue, he thought. He had lived, but she... if only he had...?

Grey whirled toward Kris, his anger so intense she retreated in shock.

"If you want to protect your friends, convince them to surrender before it's too late," he said.

He turned and stormed into the locker area where he rotated the equipment closet and pulled out his combat armor. Kris watched as he suited up, not knowing what to say. After he sealed the environmental support system and trimmed his utility belts with a string of jammers and an extra blaster, he strapped the energy shield to his left forearm and headed for the door.

"Where are you going?" Kris asked.

"To find your crewmates, Captain Fairfield."

He paused in the doorway, suddenly regretting losing his temper. But that didn't matter. What mattered was finding the humans before they committed further destructive acts.

"You're the one who asked for trust," Grey said, his expression softening.

"Tis hard to part when friends are dear,

perhaps 'twill cost a sigh, a tear;

then steal away, give little warning.

Choose thine own time.

Say not good-night, but in some brighter clime, bid me good morning."

Grey closed his visor and disappeared into the corridor at a rapid pace.

Kris wondered what she should do. Obviously the computers were extremely dangerous, far more than Dr. McKinsey had led them to believe, and it appeared the strange moon man wanted to help, though at times he seemed angry and resentful.

"You must excuse Grey," a voice said from behind her.

Kris turned with her weapon drawn to find the computer monitor activated, the screen dominated by surging green signature patterns.

"Grey is exhausted and suffering from stimulant abuse," the Life Support Computer said. "I warned him not to initiate conflict, but he's very stubborn."

"Who are you?" she asked.

"This is the colony MC5000 Life Support Computer," Life Support introduced. "I was Governor McKinsey's confidant and Grey's guardian from the beginning."

"The beginning of what? What the hell's going on here? One minute he's fighting for us, the next minute he's making threats."

"Grey often misdirects to disguise his feelings."

"Oh," Kris said, realizing she was hardly in position to criticize.

"I have supervised him without human assistance since he was eighteen months old," Life Support continued. "The task has not been easy. Because Tranquility is strategically located, we exist in a perpetual state of war. There have been many terrible events, but Grey is not a murderer. His task would be easier if he was. Trust him. His concern for your party is sincere."

"I think you're telling the truth, but this is still very confusing. I'm a soldier, not a politician," Kris said.

"The times call for both, Captain."

"What are you suggesting?"

"When you locate Dr. Fairfield and Colonel Zopek, bring them here to the Governor's Quarters. They are innocent of any wrongdoing. If Dr. McKinsey and Major Vandebrown desist from their attempts to seize the base, perhaps there will be leniency for them also. As long as they are kept from compounding their crimes."

"What crimes? Is coming to the moon on a peaceful exploration a crime?"

"You are certainly your father's daughter," the Life Support Computer complimented, initiating a new series of heightened evaluations. "Out of respect for him, I will tell you the true reason your expedition has come to Tranquility."

"It's about time someone did."

"You may not like what you hear," Life Support warned.

"I'm listening. Get on with it," she insisted.

"Take a seat while I correlate. There is information that cannot be revealed indiscreetly."

Kris sat down and watched the green signature patterns swirl in preparation. A moment later, the computer began to speak.

* * * * * *

Next up: the fate of the moon is up for grabs in Turning Points.