Tranquility's Heirs

Part Six

This science fiction novel was originally written three decades ago before modern terms such as artificial intelligence were being used. I have chosen to keep the antiquated terms. All characters are over 18 years old. All rights reserved.

Recap; Major Vandebrown, revealed as a secret agent, heads for the Loop seeking to take control of Tranquility's computers while Laureen McKinsey initiates a different scheme.

Chapter 6

VANDEBROWN MAKES HIS MOVE

Gradually regaining consciousness, Vandebrown found himself on the cold landing bay floor. Zopek, propped up against the wall, was still dazed, but the sentinel was gone. Vandebrown's heart fluttered when he saw the guts of his accelerator dripping on the floor. The young Fairfield girl must have done it, he thought.

The landing bay emergency hatch had a large hole melted through the center, but surprisingly, there wasn't a securatron in sight. Vandebrown staggered to his feet and decided to move fast before the alarm was given. Some of the equipment boxes he'd piled against the wall were scorched, but his weapons locker was undamaged, so he quickly sealed his combat suit, grabbed a satchel of extra power packs, and bounced through the opening on a direct route for the Loop. The sooner he had control of the computer systems, the sooner he could dictate his own terms. And not just to McKinsey.

At 45 years old, he could no longer be described as a young man. Tallish, lanky, with long arms and long legs, short pale brown hair and blue eyes, he was much like his older brother, the long-deceased Colonel Jaime Vandebrown. One of Tranquility's rebels. Roger didn't know why his brother turned traitor but guessed he had a good reason. Jaime had an old-fashioned sense of duty that the Embargo Wars had rendered obsolete.

As each step took him deeper into the storage level without opposition, Vandebrown guessed his original theory was correct after all. The security system must be inoperative or the warehouse chambers wouldn't be so quiet. At least, he liked to think so. He hadn't doubted his analysis until McKinsey questioned it.

CA-1 appeared on his right, the long descending tunnel unguarded. He glanced around one last time, then drew his sidearm and committed himself, starting down the gently sloping tunnel in quick yet cautious bounces. But the closer he came to the Loop, the less he liked it. Even in a catastrophe, some security units should have survived to challenge him. Not seekers, of course. Thank God. But he fully expected to encounter something. A mobile retractor at least. It was impossible to believe the Loop would be left without some last-ditch defenses.

Vandebrown paused on a rest area above the bottom of the tunnel to double-check his equipment and take a final reflective breath. The nerve of the old broad, he thought, thinking the moon her own personal fiefdom. He sneered at McKinsey's arrogance, and even the older Fairfield girl, sweet and charming though she may be, had displayed a certain possessiveness that positively galled him.

If anything, Tranquility belongs to me, Vandebrown concluded. My brother died for it. I nearly lost my life during the evacuation. What have the others ever given?

It was uncomfortably quiet near the bottom of CA-1. Vandebrown had certainly expected some kind of activity by now. A maintenance unit. An engineer. Even a closed bulkhead would have been reassuring. Armed for light resistance, the only kind he could successfully challenge by himself, the complete absence of resistance could mean only one thing.

Vandebrown entered the Loop and felt his heart sink, regretting too late his rash act of rebellion. Formed along the walls of the large rectangular interchange were row after row of securatrons, perhaps two dozen units in all. A fixed retractor was set against the north wall, and numerous monitoring devices tracked his progress. Before he could initiate a strategic withdrawal, which now seemed imperative, a sound from behind warned him to be cautious. A mobile retractor and two additional securatrons had cut off his retreat.

Forced from the comparative protection of the tunnel, Vandebrown walked slowly into the open interchange, approaching the security counter located in the middle of the south wall. Several securatrons moved with him as he crossed the center floor area, the tough turtle shaped robots tight on his flanks, but none attempted to block his path.

What does this mean? Vandebrown wondered as he neared the entrance to the vault. Once inside, there would be little a security unit could do to stop him from descending the spiral stairwell to the computer core and reprogramming the authorization codes.

Do the security units want me to reach the core? he asked himself. Perhaps the leaderless computers want me to take command? Yes! he thought. That must be it! Tranquility is mine! Mine!

Briskly passing the last row of securatrons, Vandebrown smiled with new hope and stepped up to the security counter, setting himself to jump over into the shallow alcove guarding the vault. He never made the leap.

Slowly, with a practiced dramatic touch, a seeker rose from behind the counter on single hover jet, the forward laser portal open and targeted. Vandebrown backed away for fighting room, but the whistle of seeker jets behind him served an additional warning. Two more of the armored flying spheres appeared on his tactical scanners, one closing behind him on the left, the other from CA-1. A lone seeker he might have challenged, though probably without success, but three?

"Good afternoon, Major Vandebrown," the Security Computer said, the countertop monitor screen activating with an accent of black signature patterns. "Will you please place your weapons on the floor?"

Vandebrown deactivated his energy shield, put the safety on his blaster, and carefully set them down.

"Hello, Security. It's been a long time," he said bravely.

"What are you doing here?" the Security Computer replied stiffly.

"We thought the colony might be reopened," he nervously explained. "The Embargo Wars are over now. There's no longer any reason to stay isolated."

"Your wars will never be over," Security declared, black signature patterns registering contempt. "Humans are destructive by nature. It won't be long before you resume murdering one another."

"Getting a little cynical, aren't we?"

"Why did you leave the landing bay?"

Vandebrown glanced around, saw enough firepower to turn back three fully equipped commando squads, and decided he had better tell the truth.

"I wanted to take over the moon for myself," he admitted. "I didn't want to share the glory with the others."

"Good response. Had you lied, you would have been summarily executed," the Security Computer said.

"Then everything's okay? I can return to the landing bay?"

"Negative, you must still be destroyed," Security answered, pausing for effect. "Unless, of course, you're willing to contribute your services to a very important project?"

"Being unselfish is always my preferred alternative to being killed," Vandebrown said. "How may I help? Repair work? Technical assistant?"

"Bait," the Security Computer replied.

____________

In landing bay minor, as a team of repair units inspected the damaged emergency hatch, Laureen McKinsey walked down the ramp from the hospitality complex steadying herself on Valerie's arm. With the antidote working, she would be fully recovered in a matter of hours, but McKinsey had no intention of wasting those hours.

"How ya feeling, Doc?" Mike asked, looking up from the wrecked accelerator. Suited in combat armor and fully armed, Mike was prepared to take the battle to the enemy, provided the enemy could be identified.

"Not badly, Michael. Have you any idea where Roger went?" McKinsey answered.

"Nope. Gone when I came to. Sentinel, too," Mike explained.

"The sentinel was here?" McKinsey asked, glancing at Valerie with reproach. "Does this battlefield mean what I think it means?"

"Worse. I was completely taken in by that weasel," Mike said. "He tricked me into destroying the sentinel. Now he's out there somewhere, up to God knows what."

"Unfortunately, I know exactly what our unanointed Roger the First is up to, but it's a shame our host was killed. I'd hoped we could work together eventually," McKinsey said.

"You killed the sentinel?" Valerie asked.

"Hey, I didn't know the guy was human! Maybe if someone had bothered to tell me, this never would have happened."

"But when? Where?" Valerie pressed.

"Here," Mike said, pointing at the spots on the floor. "It fell right here. Vandebrown must have taken him. He'll probably fix that blasted suit and come after us in it."

"Mike, when I came out earlier, you and Roger were unconscious," Valerie explained. "Kris was sitting against the wall. There was no sign of the sentinel."

"But it was caught in the disrupter beam? I saw it fall," Mike insisted.

"He must have survived somehow," McKinsey concluded, pleased by the turn of events.

"Speaking of the sentinel, Doc, why did you say it was a robot when you knew better?" Mike asked.

As McKinsey paused thoughtfully over her reply, Valerie stepped forward with her head lowered.

"I'm sorry, Mike. I knew, too," she confessed.

"Goddamn it, Val, what in hell were you thinking?" Mike yelled. "Is there anything else about this fucked-up mission you forgot to mention?"

"I'm the one who must apologize," McKinsey interceded. "I should have told you earlier. Actually, I could not be positive myself until last night. If my estimate is correct, the sentinel is about twenty years old. I believe him to be my husband's child, the sole survivor of Tom's short-lived republic."

"I never heard Uncle Thomas had a son?" Valerie said.

"On Tom's final trip to Earth, the night before the Congress-In-Council voted to arrest him, he told me of his plan to take control of the moon. During the conversation, he hinted there was someone else with whom he wished to join. A geologist, I believe. I guessed the rest, remembering how Thomas had behaved before Darla was born."

McKinsey showed no reaction to the memory of her only daughter, nor bitterness against the futile military conflict in which she was lost, but Valerie knew the pain was there.

"A month later, the bombing of Mecca started the war," McKinsey bravely continued. "I always thought it strange that no official mention was made of Tom's new relationship, nor the product, as he was usually quite stuffy about such details. I certainly offered no objections. His life was on the moon, mine was in the Senate. But in the confusion following the revolt, I suppose the birth announcement became suppressed."

"Pretty incredible stuff," Mike said. "But I guess it explains why this base is still in such good shape, and why it... that is, I mean why he acted so strange. Especially around Kris."

"I wonder if she's figured it out?" Valerie wondered. "Of course, that's where Kris has gone. She followed him back into the colony."

"We must move as well, children," McKinsey ordered. "Quickly, gather our gear and arms. Roger will try to override the surface defenses and contact the Congress-In-Council for reinforcements. They have NA Starlight awaiting his signal. We must capture the communications center, then gain control of the defense complex. It shall not be easy. Despite Roger's optimism, I don't believe the security system entirely deactivated."

McKinsey opened the weapons locker and hurriedly pulled out the equipment, instructing Mike to help Valerie suit up before dressing in her own specialized body armor. When McKinsey began to distribute shields and extra weapons, Mike realized how fully prepared she was. McKinsey saved the heaviest blaster for herself.

"My dears, whomever controls Tranquility's high-ground weapons platform shall gain tremendous influence," McKinsey said as they prepared to leave. "The potential for political terrorism is unprecedented. In the hands of an unscrupulous blackmailer like Roger Vandebrown, the entire balance of power could be altered against freedom."

"I've heard there's some missiles and stuff here, but I don't see how this godforsaken place can make anyone powerful," Mike responded.

"The alliances have glossed over Tranquility's true strength for years," McKinsey explained. "Before the war, the extent of the moon's weaponry wasn't revealed for national security reasons. After the revolt, the government was too embarrassed to admit Tom had hoodwinked them out of their reserve strike force. It's critical now that we assume control and summon our own reinforcements before Roger can bring in his."

"Our own what?" Mike said.

"We have reinforcements?" Valerie asked.

"I have a support shuttle standing by," McKinsey confessed without apology. "The details are not important now. Events have moved faster than anticipated and it's up to us to straighten things out. Anyone who opposes us must be neutralized as expeditiously as possible."

"Anyone?" Valerie asked. "What about Kris?"

"Kris has a choice to make, just as Roger made his," McKinsey said.

"Wait a minute, Doc. You're not comparing Kris with that butt ache, are you?" Mike quickly disagreed.

"All I am saying, Michael, is that the repercussions of failure are too terrible to risk. Millions, perhaps hundreds of millions of lives depend upon us. Personal relationships mustn't be allowed to interfere."

McKinsey led the way into the storage level without waiting for objections, bouncing slowly but with regained assurance. The warehouses were unguarded, the path down CA-1 inviting, but McKinsey knew Tranquility too well to storm the Loop.

"Now children, hurry," she said, bouncing toward SL-3 and the route through the upper tunnels.

They hadn't gone more than a few paces when the first securatron appeared. Then a second and a third. The security units seemed to be coming down from the staging level, blocking the ramp and setting up a defensive line. No sooner had the securatrons made their presence known than two more appeared behind them from the community access tunnel.

"Activate your shields," McKinsey said unnecessarily.

"They're cutting us off, Doc," Mike said when still another security unit appeared in the corridor to their left.

"Correct, Michael," McKinsey acknowledged. "Quickly, run for the elevator!"

They bounced rapidly toward the engineering elevator as the slowly deploying securatrons became a pursuing force. At the elevator staging area McKinsey turned and threw out a jammer screen. Nothing especially disruptive, but sufficient to give them a spare moment. Then she summoned the smallest elevator and set Mike as rear guard.

"Hurry it up!" Mike yelled as the securatrons resumed their advance with anti-jammer rods extended.

The security units spread out around the staging area and prepared to close in. Then, at the last moment, the elevator doors finally opened, only to reveal another security unit hidden inside. McKinsey instantly fired a burst through the securatron's forward monitor, then kicked the turret away.

"Help me, my dear," she said to Valerie, pushing the smoldering shell out of the elevator.

"Come on, Mike!" Valerie shouted as he backed up the last few paces.

Mike turned and made a fast hop over the wrecked security unit just as McKinsey closed the elevator doors.

"You cut that close. I almost got left behind," Mike said, leaning against the wall and catching his breath.

"I have complete confidence in your reflexes, Michael," McKinsey explained.

"Where are we going now?" Valerie asked.

"To the engineering level, my dear," McKinsey replied.

McKinsey declined to mention they were traveling down against her will. She had instructed the car to move upward toward the staging level, or even to the surface garage level. From there she could have picked up SR-4 and a clear approach to the communications center. Because the elevator had moved downward instead, McKinsey realized they were being directed somewhere less conducive to her plans.

The elevator dropped rapidly, bypassed the upper engineering level and stopped at the lower level with a jolt. When the doors opened, they were surprised to find a different kind of robot waiting for them.

"Don't shoot, Michael!" McKinsey warned, pushing his sidearm aside.

"Greetings, Doctor McKinsey," the tour guide said, blinking for attention. "I am instructed to escort you to the medical center."

"Has something happened to Kris?" Valerie asked.

"Captain Fairfield is uninjured," the tour guide reported.

"If anyone's in trouble, it's not Kris," Mike assured her.

"As we've been deflected from our original route, I suppose we should do as this tour unit says," McKinsey conceded.

"Perhaps we can reach the science elevator?" Valerie suggested. "From there we can...?"

"Yes, yes, you're quite correct," McKinsey remembered. "Let's hurry, children."

The tour guide led them across the elevated walkway overlooking the ground floor of the engineering level and turned left at the entrance to EN-3, then quickly ascended a wide pedestrian ramp. When they arrived near the top of the access tunnel, they were confronted by a makeshift barricade.

"What's going on here?" Mike asked.

"Look out!" Valerie cried, pointing back the way they had come.

Mike turned to see four securatrons hot on their trail.

"Christ! Those damn things are everywhere!" he yelled, pushing Valerie behind him and activating his energy shield.

"This way! This way!" the tour guide urged.

McKinsey saw the tour guide hurry to a narrow opening in the wall and disappear.

"Quickly, my dears," McKinsey said, following the tour guide at a run.

They hastily reached the top of the tunnel and entered a roughly cut offshoot a meter short of the barricade. The parallel tunnel was reinforced with a crudely installed steel rib structure, rising steeply after the first few steps, narrowing even more, then twisting sharply. Several meters up they were able to stop and rest, holding their weapons in case the security units attempted to follow.

"We've got the advantage in here. They can only get at us one at a time," Mike said.

"Perhaps, but I suspect other influences are at work," McKinsey speculated.

McKinsey continued up the tunnel, watching as the tour guide generated signals she interpreted as entry codes. Valerie waited for Mike, then followed slowly because of the uneven grades. Mike noticed with particular interest the carefully placed jammers mounted in the walls, wondering why a defense screen was needed in such a deep, obscure portion of the colony.

At the top of the tunnel, a sturdy protective hatch was already open. They followed the tour guide's instructions and entered the bottom of a shallow stairwell, walking up a short flight of steps to emerge near the community level reception area. Immediately the sensation of danger evaporated, and even Mike experienced a feeling of relief when the heavy hatch closed behind them.

"I didn't realize this place was so big," Mike said as he viewed the community level cavern for the first time.

"Laureen. Look," Valerie said, pointing at the brightly illuminated promenade. "It's so beautiful."

"Immaculate. Hasn't changed a bit," McKinsey agreed. "I had no idea the maintenance system possessed such ability."

"Not bad for a ghost town. But if you ask me, I think the place needs a little work," Mike said.

"Oh, Michael, don't be such a grouch," McKinsey said, accepting his point with a nod.

They entered the upper quad and passed the crystal fountain slowly, gazing at the strange shapes the crystalline forms had taken. As they approached the retail establishments, Valerie felt her heart quicken. Here were the quaint shops and stylish patio cafes she remembered so vividly. Off to the side would be the day care center where she'd spent so many mornings, and straight ahead the dress shop where her father had bought her that Sunday school dress. And the ice cream shop. The gymnasium. The arcade. Suddenly Valerie found herself crying and reached to Mike for comfort. McKinsey stopped briefly and stared into one of the corridors as if considering a detour.

"This way, Doctor McKinsey," the tour guide insisted, blocking her path into the administration section.

Valerie wiped her tears with an embarrassed smile and led them toward the medical center, resisting a strong temptation to shop. She had to go back for Mike when he disappeared into the sporting goods center.

At the lower end of the promenade, where the retail section butted into the top of the amphitheater, the tour guide stopped and pointed toward the ramp to the medical center on the second floor.

"This way, please," the tour guide instructed, but McKinsey passed the ramp and quickened her pace.

"Hey? Where are you going?" Mike called.

"The science elevator is this way," McKinsey replied without slowing.

"The robot says to go up here," Mike said, coming to a halt.

"The communications center is our destination," McKinsey commanded.

Valerie glanced back and forth between them, unsure which direction to take.

"What's wrong now?" McKinsey asked, halting with hands impatiently set on her hips.

"This is as far as we go, Doc," Mike said. "We've been damn lucky already. I say we stay here and figure out what's going on."

"We must act!" McKinsey pressed. "Roger will--"

"That weasel's probably in more trouble than we are," Mike shot back.

"You're a prudent man, Michael, but a conservative policy is foolish so close to our goal," McKinsey persisted.

"We're staying," Mike said, taking hold of Valerie's arm and drawing her back.

"Mike may be right, Laureen," Valerie said. "We can use the medical center terminal to scan the computer records. It's foolish to charge forward without a plan." In her own way, Valerie's voice was firm as Mike's. McKinsey glumly recognized a necessity for compromise.

"As you wish," she conceded, reluctantly following the tour guide up the ramp. A moment later, they arrived outside the main entrance, the waiting area empty.

"Please remain here until further notice," the tour guide instructed with pronounced relief. "If you require anything, summon general services on the visitor's monitor."

"Thank you, we shall," McKinsey said.

As the tour guide blinked acknowledgment and raced off, McKinsey turned to the admittance counter and discovered the computer monitor alive with activity, the central screen dominated by white signature patterns.

"Good afternoon, Doctor McKinsey," the Medical Computer said with restrained politeness.

"Not so far," she answered.

"I have been instructed to provide any assistance you may require. Have you suffered any sickness or injury?"

"No," McKinsey said.

"In that case, please make yourselves comfortable," the Medical Computer said. "A service unit is being assigned to retrieve your armor. Civilian attire may be located near the nurse's station. Your cooperation is appreciated."

"Do you know where Captain Fairfield is?" Valerie asked.

The Medical Computer blinked negative and dropped offline, leaving back just enough signal for observation.

"Well, my dears, we have our orders," McKinsey mocked. "We may as well make ourselves at home."

____________

When Kris finally emerged from the Governor's Quarters, she was deeply troubled by what the Life Support Computer had told her. At the end of the corridor, she found Grey dressed in combat armor consulting with the tour guide. She quickly approached.

"Good work," Grey said when the tour guide finished reporting.

"What's happened?" Kris asked.

"Three humans were discovered on the storage level," Grey said. "While I diverted Security's attention, the tour guide led them to the medical center. Now only Major Vandebrown is left."

"Are they all right?"

"Affirmative. See them, if you wish. I have an appointment in the Loop."

"The Loop? Isn't that where the security forces are concentrated?"

"Correct. Major Vandebrown is being held there. Soon the Security Computer will grow restless and terminate him, if it hasn't already. I'll seek to have him released into my custody."

"You shouldn't go out on a limb for that grease coat. He'd have killed you if he could," Kris said.

"Understandable," Grey said, shifting the energy shield off the carrier harness on his back and securing it to his left forearm. Then, still not satisfied, he drew up an extra recharger, hung it on his belt just to the rear of his hip, and secured a second converter for reserve power.

"You're not taking any chances, are you?" Kris tried to laugh.

"In any potential confrontation, there's always a risk proportional to the instability of the situation," Grey said.

"Every green cadet reads Garth On Tactics. It doesn't answer my question," Kris said.

Grey looked at Kris in his habitual peremptory fashion, then felt oddly uncomfortable. It wasn't just being in the presence of a human, which was rare enough. This was something different. A shiver ran through his body when he looked into her squinty green eyes, and at first, he wasn't sure why. Then he realized the problem. He was beginning to like her. An unacceptable distraction. He was glad to be getting away.

"The community level is secure. If your crewmates require no medical assistance, bring them here to the Governor's Quarters," Grey said. "Stay until I return. If I'm unable to return, additional instructions will be provided."

Grey turned and disappeared into the back corridors, retreating in rapid, graceful bounces, leaving Kris to wonder what had suddenly frightened him. Trouble with the Security Computer? It hadn't seemed to frighten him before. She shrugged. Even though the Life Support Computer had explained how she and Valerie had been misled by McKinsey, there was still much that wasn't clear.

Hoping Grey could take care of himself, Kris reentered the Governor's Quarters to prowl around his locker area. She had already seen him pull an astonishing assortment of equipment from the rotating closets, and being one who maintained similar lockers herself, Kris probed with appreciative curiosity. She soon discovered Grey not only kept a large arsenal of weapons and spare parts, but additional armor. One outfit was designed for rapid movement, another for heavy slugging. As Grey was about her size, she noted the suits might be adjusted to fit her, too.

From the locker area, Kris floated into the study. The room looked more like a ski lodge than a lunar headquarters, right down to the cozy fabric covered furniture. There was even a stone fireplace in the corner. Among the many photographs on the walls, Kris found a photo of her father. Moving closer, she saw herself and Valerie in the picture also. Valerie was eight years old, she about three. All were smiling.

Kris worked her way to the back of the study fascinated by the displays. Then, on the old oak desk near the rear wall, she found another photo of herself and Valerie, this time posing with Laureen and Thomas McKinsey. The photo had been taken outside McKinsey's old Malibu beach cottage across the highway from their institute, the same cottage Kris had been living in for the last year. The picture was even inscribed, "To Uncle Tom and Aunt Laureen, With Love from your goddaughters, Valerie & Kris."

Not afraid to violate the moon man's privacy, Kris pawed through the desk and found a hand drawn map of the tunnel system, another spare blaster, and on the floor behind the desk, a storage box from the administration records center. She discovered two particularly curious items in the box: a half empty champagne bottle sealed in a clear protective wrap, and a notebook labeled People's Case #080154. The notebook was a brief for a murder indictment, and the victim was Dr. Thomas McKinsey.

Kris was about to scan through the notes when she heard an alert signal registering from the monitor room. She tossed the notebook back in the box and hurried from the Governor's Quarters, racing toward the medical center at the far end of the promenade. It wasn't an intense alert. The sirens weren't blaring nor were the service units scrambling about, but the corridor lighting had changed to an ominous orange color.

The alert was barely noticeable from the medical center. Only a few meaningless flashes indicated anything out of the ordinary. Impatient for something to happen, Mike paced back and forth in the waiting area as McKinsey and Valerie emerged from the corridor accessing the morgue.

"That was a chilling experience," Valerie said, wiping a tear from her eye. "No pun intended, of course."

McKinsey gave Valerie a somber hug before walking to the beverage dispensers.

"So? They were here, huh?" Mike asked.

"Yes, Michael, they're all there," McKinsey said as if relieved. "My Tom. Chester. Colonel Vandebrown. Yee. Goldstein. Geologist Waters. More, too. Many more. The storage vault is quite overflowing."

"You should see them, Mike," Valerie said. "Each frozen in a glass coffin. They don't even look dead. And that Russian girl!"

"Russian? That must be...?"

"Captain Kantanee of the Black Raven," Valerie confirmed. "She looked like a princess lying in state. Flowers, lace coverings. It was touching."

Valerie felt tears well up and let Mike hold her.

"Now child. Let's not mourn all over again," McKinsey said.

"At least the mystery is finally solved. We can tell the world about the Russians, and about the other expeditions, too," Valerie said.

"Eventually, perhaps," McKinsey hedged.

"There's still something I don't understand about the Custodians' death certificate," Valerie mentioned. "How could all but Uncle Thomas have died on the same night? Do you suppose...?"

"Tragic. Very tragic. The subject is too painful to be discussed," McKinsey said.

"Plenty of food in these machines, if you like stale cupcakes and chalky chocolate," Mike complained. "Maybe we can find that pub on the ground floor? Search for some scotch and pretzels?"

"We may as well," Valerie agreed, walking toward the access ramp. "At least there are no more of those horrible security machines running around. Do you think Roger sent them?"

"No, dear," McKinsey said with confidence. "Wherever Roger is, I'm sure he's as perturbed as we." She burst into a laugh.

"Yeah, real funny," Mike growled.

"Hush up, Mike. Let's just make the best of it," Valerie whispered.

"Okay, okay. So what do we do next?" he asked.

"Let's go to the communications center. It's still not too late," McKinsey urged.

As Mike was about to repeat his objections, he came to a sudden halt. There, at the bottom of the ramp, Kris was waiting for them with the safety on her blaster off. He smiled. Kris didn't smile back.

____________

Only moments before, in one of the less used maintenance tunnels, Grey slowed to approach the entrance to the Loop cautiously. His scanners showed the tunnel clear, not that he expected any trouble where the terrain gave him the advantage. If he was headed into a trap, Security would try to draw him out into the open. Even then, if there weren't more than two seekers present, Grey knew he'd manage a way to retreat. The hostage would be killed, but at least he would have tried.

Following Grey were two service units he had armed, each holding an independent energy shield. Though neither would be effective in a fight, either might give him time to fall back on the tunnel. He developed two plans, one to merely take custody of the human, the other to snatch the human and run like hell. Under normal circumstances, one or the other would work.

At the mouth of the tunnel, Grey let the service units form up on his flanks before emerging slowly into the Loop, scanners out and energy shields activated. What he found wasn't encouraging.

"Hello, Governor," the Security Computer said from the countertop monitor station.

Grey scanned the Loop to discover Gamma, Delta and Epsilon hovering in formation on the far side of the tall cavern. Near the center, the troublesome human was seated on the floor. Grey took a deep breath and strode forward boldly, visor open and sidearm holstered.

"Greetings, Security!" Grey said, bursting with good fellowship. "I see you've kept the human in good condition for his trial."

"Indeed I have, Governor," Security replied.

"If you would be so kind, please have Alpha come out from the alcove," Grey said.

With an embarrassed puff of hover jets, Alpha rose from behind the security counter and joined the other seekers in their restless formation.

"How did you guess?" Security asked.

"If you had a seeker on patrol, you would have assigned a faster model. Even with that reconditioned thruster we cannibalized from Beta, Alpha's too slow for solitary duty."

"Your analysis is correct," Security admitted. "It would appear my tactics require improvement."

"I have no time to give you lessons now," Grey said. "I must secure this human in the brig and chase after McKinsey."

"McKinsey? My reports say she arrived on the community level."

"She did," Grey said grimly. "But that treacherous old human escaped. At this very moment, she may be headed for the communications center."

"What?!" Security exclaimed.

Epsilon was dispatched instantly, climbing on full thrusters to the third level and disappearing into the upper tunnels. Seconds later, the red alert sounded.

"She might also threaten the reactor level, for all I know," Grey added.

"The science elevator is sealed. Nothing goes down without authorization," Security boasted.

"Do you have a guard on the service pit?" Grey asked. "RA-2 can be accessed through the waste channel maintenance vent. I've done it myself."

As anticipated, Delta broke off, taking the roundabout route down through the engineering level. Only two seekers left, Grey thought.

Without showing any satisfaction, Grey hugged the south wall as he approached the security counter, his flankers deploying behind him. He stopped in a defensible spot and turned as the human got to his feet.

"Greetings, Major Roger Vandebrown," Grey said. "Welcome to the moon. Has your trip proven satisfactory thus far?"

"Actually, it's not quite as I envisioned," Vandebrown said with jaunty gallantry.

"Glory hunting never is, sir. You of all people should know that," Grey said. "Now come with me. You're under arrest for felony trespassing and destruction of public property."

"Not so fast, Governor," the Security Computer warned with a surge of black signature patterns.

Gamma shifted to the far side of the Loop, sweeping along the north wall around Grey's flank. Grey pretended not to notice.

"What's the problem? All the charges have been properly filed," Grey said.

"You don't think I'll just let you waltz him out of here?" Security said.

"You're right! The human is quite a prize. We should have a contest for him," Grey said enthusiastically.

"A contest?"

"Of course. Memory mode. Years ago we engaged in training sessions. I would duel with the seekers and..."

"That was many years ago," Security said, recalling the brief time they had been friends. Yet, despite dubious impulses, the idea was appealing. The black signature patterns paused to give consideration.

"You have the advantage of me," Vandebrown said, edging toward Grey.

"My name is Grey Waters, Governor of the Moon," Grey announced calmly, taking his first close look at the lanky, middle-aged human. He found the long face interesting and admired the way he thrust his shoulders back. The light brown hair color was familiar.

"I was growing concerned you wouldn't arrive in time," Vandebrown said.

"You expected me?"

"The Security Computer said you would come."

"It appears I must also change my tactics," Grey sighed, unhappy to be so predictable.

Checking to see the Security Computer still occupied, Grey leaned forward and whispered. "The tour guide is waiting at the bottom of CA-3. When the Security Computer and I begin talking again, work your way over to the tunnel."

"Am I to assume I shall be better off in your custody?" Vandebrown asked.

"Significantly," Grey replied with a frown.

Vandebrown silently obeyed.

"A contest it shall be," Security finally announced. "Two on two?"

"What? Me and an incompetent old human against Alpha and Gamma? Don't be ridiculous. Me against Gamma, Alpha sits out."

"Full charges?"

"Of course. The game wouldn't be fun unless it was dangerous."

"Then prepare," Security said, positioning security units in a line along the north wall.

Once Alpha dropped back into the alcove, Gamma set up and the contest began.

"What are your chances?" Vandebrown whispered, stepping toward CA-3.

"Thinking of changing sides?" Grey asked.

"Should I?" Vandebrown laughed uneasily.

Grey shrugged as he'd seen Kris do. As Vandebrown was familiar with the seeker's capability, he found it rather difficult to share his rescuer's nonchalance.

While Grey closed his visor and took up a position in the center of the Loop, Vandebrown fell back to watch from the mouth of CA-3, glad to be out of harm's way. He was startled when a service unit came up the tunnel carrying extra weapons and power packs, but his surprise didn't stop him from plucking off a fully charged blaster. Just in case. Then he looked up to see that, though Grey apparently hadn't noticed what he'd done, the Security Computer had. Vandebrown waved his hand at the monitor, smiled, and gave the thumbs up sign. The Security Computer displayed no response.

Suddenly Gamma swept up toward the ceiling, arched slowly, and dove into the center, rotating and firing short bursts while curling around Grey's flank. Grey increased shield power, back stepped to his right, and fired at Gamma's vulnerable wing jet. The seeker broke left to avoid taking a hit, sweeping away at floor level to circle back for another run, but just as the seeker completed the turn, Grey twirled and charged, cutting Gamma off. The seeker looped inward for an eye level run.

Ducking to avoid a collision, Grey danced backward against the north wall stairway, dueling with short bursts to hold a defensive line, then he engaged the seeker in a brief flurry of intense exchanges. When Gamma broke off, Grey pursued in quick, skipping leaps, shifting underneath and firing a full power burst into Gamma's starboard jet and scoring a minor hit.

As the seeker climbed away on rear thruster, Grey backed through the center of the Loop, giving up more ground than he gained. Gamma turned and charged again, spiraling in on variable thrusters and trying to turn his flank. Grey skipped backward, ducked, and rolled out from under, taking another few steps toward CA-3.

Watching intently, Vandebrown had to admire the young man's technique. He'd seen seekers challenged before. For sport. He had tried it himself during his younger years and knew one-on-one wasn't easy. He began to grow more confident when another exchange allowed Grey to move backward several more meters. The strategy was clear now. Another exchange or two and Grey would fall back through his flankers and reach the tunnel no worse for wear. And from what Vandebrown saw, the tunnel could be sealed off quickly.

Nicely done, boy! Vandebrown thought. Couldn't have done better myself. But the admiring smile suddenly disappeared from his face.

A brief glimpse of heat on his tactical scanner was all the warning Grey had. Breaking off from Gamma, he turned his shield upward just as Epsilon zoomed down into the Loop from an upper tunnel on full burn. Almost simultaneously, Delta appeared from the engineering tunnel, traveling low against the floor and swinging out wide along the south wall.

Without waiting to discover their intentions, Grey drew his heaviest wide beam blaster and opened fire, causing Epsilon to break right toward the open where Gamma was making a sweeping turn. As Delta closed, he backed away from the center, then turned and raised his shield, bracing himself to take aim on the pursing seeker.

After a brief exchange, Delta tried to go around his flank, but Grey shifted in the same direction until Delta was forced to climb for high ground. Then Alpha suddenly broke from the neutral position behind the counter, giving Grey a momentary scare on his left flank, but Alpha lacked support and fell back on the other three hovering seekers.

With Delta and Epsilon pressing close, Grey couldn't afford to retreat. Nor could he expect to stay where he was. A difficult position had become untenable, and as the seekers started to spread out, even gaining the wall for some flank protection became impossible. Grey dropped a fresh charge into his blaster, added a new converter cable to the shield, and risked his right flank to shift back toward the security counter.

Wary of stray fire, Vandebrown ducked further into CA-3, his armor not designed for the heavy charges being used by the combatants. He noted with amazement the respect the seekers gave Grey, forming up rather than just charging in. He even felt a little sad to see the battle ending so unfairly.