Jack L. Chalker - Rings 2 - Pirates Of The Thunder

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PIRATES OF THE THUNDERPIRATES OF THE THUNDER
Copyright © 1987 by Jack L. Chalker
e-book ver. 1.0
For Judy-Lynn del Rey,
a unique giant in a field
dominated by pygmies,
for all that I am today.
I wish you'd stuck around for the climax.
PROLOGUE
NINE HAD DIED IN THE FIGHT, NINE GOOD FRIENDS AND family members. From her
haven
in the small hollow escape pod attached to the great tree, she stared out into
the rain, but she could see little more than water and mist. The tears began
to
flow as a dark shape seemed to move in the gray ness outside. She raised the
pistol but did not fire; the shape paused a moment, then moved on past the
tree.
She knew that it had somehow still missed her, but it was heading for the
nearby
compound where twenty more would be taken by surprise as her party had been-
and
possibly slaughtered for not telling the thing what they did not know.
Its pause between her escape and its pursuit certainly meant that it had
beamed
a full account of the progress to date to its master module, in orbit
somewhere
above. Its programmers would make certain she never left this cursed world,
and
if she destroyed it they'd send another Val, and another, until they got her-
no
matter what the cost.
How many lives, both human and Sakanian, was she worth? How many would be
massacred for her? And for what? Sooner or later they would get her, and even
if
she could elude them indefinitely in this mess of a world she could do no more
useful work.
With a sigh, she crawled out of the pod and into the rain. The thing had not
gone far and was easy to track, and she was amazed at her sudden calmness.
Sensing it was being followed, it stopped and waited, a large, hulking,
obsidianlike humanoid that was plastic enough to become whatever it needed,
and
now needed to be nothing more than itself.
She stepped into the clearing and faced the Val from a distance of five meters
or so, her pistol still pointed at it.
"I have been waiting for you, Ngoriki," the Val said in a voice that sounded
somewhat like her own, but full of stoic self-confidence.
"I know. I can't let you kill any more innocent people."
"Yes. Inside me is a record of you, you know. I fully understood what the
action
would do to you. I very much regret having to do it, but there seemed no other
way. I had tried the traditional approaches and nothing else seemed sure."
She felt suddenly furious, and her grip on the pistol tightened. "You regret!
How dare you! How can you regret? You are a machine, a soulless monstrosity!
You
don't feel. You don't know what that did to me! You're nothing but a machine
carrying out your programming, no matter what the cost!"
"You are both right and wrong," the machine said. "It is true that I am a
construct, carrying out my master programming instructions-but so are you. I
am
made of different stuff, in a different way, than you, and, unlike you, I know
my creator and my engineers. Human beings are programmed by their biochemistry
more than you would like to believe. I think-and that makes me an individual.
I
am not free, but neither is humanity."
"Yes. That's what you'll do to me, isn't it? Reprogram me. Perhaps that is
what
sets us apart, then. I have a yearning to be free, and you see that yearning
as
only a flaw in my own genetics."
"No," the Val responded. "We have a disagreement, that is all. This is not a
good, let alone perfect, system we have, I grant that. It is merely a better
system than the alternatives. It saved the race of humankind and many other
races from inevitable self-extinction. Having saved them from their demise at
their own hands, it now saves them from extinction at the hands of others.
Survival outweighs all other considerations. If one survives, one has
opportunity and hope at some point for changes for the better. If one does not
survive, nothing else matters."
"Damn it!" she screamed at him. "You have everything I was inside you!
Everything! You know I am innocent of what I was charged!"
The Val almost seemed to sigh. "Yes. I know. That more than anything has made
this so difficult for me. We hate to get the rare innocent to track, yet we
must. Do you know why we are called Vals? After a character in ancient Earth
literature, one Jean Valjean. He stole a loaf of bread to feed his starving
family and received life at slave labor as his punishment. He escaped, became
great, and did only great things for others, yet he was hunted relentlessly
and
brought down all the same. The name is that of the victim, not the pursuer.
The
greater good for the greater number requires that the system work. An
individual
injustice here and there is inevitable, but so long as the trial is fair and
the
conviction proper, the system must be served, for otherwise there is chaos and
disorder, and the masses will suffer. Better one than the many, as painful as
that may be."
"You bastard! Where does justice and mercy fit into all this?"
"Is it mercy to spare one so that a thousand be killed? The system ensures
survival. Without survival, justice and mercy are irrelevant, as well.
Therefore, they are irrelevant here."
The pistol dipped down, and she felt the tears returning. "But-without justice
and mercy, why survive at all?" she asked.
She suddenly raised the pistol, ready to fire, but the Val had anticipated her
and was quicker. A snakelike tentacle suddenly shot from its midsection and
struck her once, hard, on the side of her head. She cried out, then crumpled.
It
retracted the tentacle, then went over to her and gave her a quick
examination.
She was out cold.
"We are different," the Val said aloud. "I have often wished, in circumstances
such as this, that I, too, could cry."
It lifted her gently in its huge arms and carefully made its way back to the
compound and, eventually, the ship.
Absolution was a destruction of memory that left a Val in some way impaired,
missing a part of itself. Rarely did a Val crave Absolution-but this one did.
The girl had been so beautiful, so innocent, yet the Val had been forced by
the
logic of its system to destroy her. Reprogramming a human brain was not death,
of course; the system demanded some mercy. Still, she would cease to exist as
a
separate entity who had been born, raised, and molded by the world of her
birth.
She would become someone entirely different, someone totally artificial, and
she
would never even suspect that she had changed. She would be a character in
Master System's grand play, no more a true and natural sentient creature than,
well, than the Val itself.
Absolution would erase all knowledge and memory of her, of the hunt for her,
along with the traces of guilt and doubt that such operations always induced.
In
a personal sense, the Val would welcome the relief, but in another sense it
would not. By now those memories that were hers existed only in its own data
banks; when they were gone, she would be truly dead.
How many others had been like her? How many of the thousands it had chased and
brought to justice-or destroyed, when that had been the only alternative-had
been in fact not the system's enemies but its victims? It would never know,
but
that very thought was treason and disturbing down to its core; Absolution was
a
necessity, and must be done as soon as possible.
Vals had at their constant disposal a reading of all the memories, all the
personality factors, of their object. To catch someone, the hunter had to know
the quarry more intimately than the quarry knew itself. Even such people as
murderers and traitors might be viewed with sympathy if all that they were was
seen with detachment.
No, that was getting even worse. Perhaps this Val was defective. Perhaps this
time there would be no awakening from Absolution.
The Val went to its cubicle and plugged in its receptors. The complete data
was
first read out into Master System's files; there, at least, the information
and
the personality files would always reside. Then all data in the auxiliary
banks
and the core was erased, so that the Val was as virginal and ignorant-and as
nonfunctional-as when it was built.
Master System then reprogrammed the core as a new unit updated with all the
newest findings, the newest technology, and the newest tricks of the trade.
The
Val did not feel, did not wonder, did not doubt. It was merely a machine.
But it was a machine with the capacity for all those things, for if it were
not
it could never comprehend its quarry, never second-guess them and trap them.
Without Absolution, the Vals were in serious danger of becoming somewhat
human.
Now came the assignment.
Master System was the greatest computer ever built. All data ever on a
computer
network was inside it from the start; it knew all there was to know, the sum
total of human knowledge and experience. Designed as a last link in a massive
defense against impending nuclear war, its sole purpose were the preservation
of
the human race and its knowledge, and the quest for new knowledge.
It had done its job; and having prevented holocaust, it had set about to carry
out its dictates that would prevent even the remotest possibility of such a
horror ever happening again. It seized command of the world, all weapons and
powers, and tied all computer systems into a master system of its own design.
It
selected examples in doubting and resisting countries, and certain cities
along
with their teeming populations ceased to exist-and so did resistance to Master
System.
But its basic programming still reigned: The human race must never be
permitted
to die out. So robotic scouts were sent out to find worlds for humanity. And
such worlds were found. Colonists specially tailored for survival on those
not-quite-Earthlike worlds were brought to their new homes by great universe
ships. Earth was left not with billions, but a mere five hundred thousand, who
could be reprogrammed and resettled.
The great cities were leveled and traces of modern civilization were all but
wiped out. The survivors were confined to isolated reservations whose cultures
were modeled after more primitive periods of history. Humanity became its own
living museum, not with great accuracy but with great effect.
Only a few human beings knew the facts. These were the elite, the brightest
from
each of the indigenous people, the chosen administrators who kept their own
people in primitive darkness as the price of their own luxury and privilege.
Giving knowledge to those who ran humanity was not without price to Master
System. Putting the best and brightest together and allowing them access to
tools and history resulted in the development of a hidden subculture that had
discovered how to beat the system. They had learned to edit their own
memories,
eliminating any forbidden knowledge that might be detected in the periodic
recordings made of their minds. They did their own research and played their
own
power games beyond the reach of Master System. The great computer tolerated a
certain measure of such activities, but was eternally vigilant to any that
threatened the system itself or its own near-total control. Those who
overstepped the bounds had the Vals sent after them-and the Vals rarely
failed.
Now a Val was being informed of a new element, one that might be the greatest
threat of all times to Master System. For the great computer was vulnerable.
It
had taken all the measures it thought it could to hide that fact, but the
vulnerability remained, having been built into it by its creators: An
overriding
command could suspend all existing programming imperatives of Master System
and
make it subject to new compulsive orders. It was also compelled to allow
anyone
actually attempting this to do so. For the attempt to succeed, however, the
cancellation codes had to be read into Master System's core memory. The codes
were hidden on tiny microchips disguised as five individually designed
elaborate
and ornate golden rings. Anyone inserting all five into their corresponding
interface slots in the correct order would in effect be the master of Master
System. The rings themselves, Master System's programming demanded, had to be
at
all times in the possession of humans with authority. If a ring were lost or
destroyed, another must be fashioned to replace it. Altering any such
imperatives in its programming would destroy Master System.
So it had scattered the rings, leaving one on Earth and sending the other four
into the trackless void of the involuntary interstellar colonists. It had
wiped
out all references it could find to the rings, their function and their use-
and
even to the very location where the rings had to be used.
But somewhere, somehow, possibly in ancient archives uncovered by Center
archaeologists, some record of the rings, and all they implied, survived the
centuries. After nine hundred years of static life in darkness, there were
humans who knew. Already a few technological underground cells had discovered
how to command and repro-gram Master System's computer-piloted spaceships.
Some
such groups as the freebooters, who were occasionally useful, were even
allowed
to exist as a sort of Center in space, so long as they remained selfish and
did
not threaten the system.
But now a small group of renegades had all the information it needed to start
out. They knew of the rings. They knew how to command the ships. They did not
know where the rings were, nor where to use them, but there was a strong
possibility that they could discover these things in time. They were on the
loose, and they were dedicated- with nothing to lose.
Although the group seemed insignificant, and its chances of doing anything
more
than providing a minor nuisance were billions to one against them, Master
System
was tremendously concerned. It claimed it was fighting a bitter and stalemated
war-although even its own Vals were not told whom it was fighting, or where,
or
why- and that if Master System were to be in any way disabled, defeat would be
inevitable, with consequences horrible for all. The mere fact that information
on the rings had survived and gotten out beyond Earth was unsettling to it. It
felt so threatened it was actually considering a new mass reprogramming of
humanity, the destruction of all the Centers, and the imposing of a new limit
where even the concept of agriculture or of a language capable of expressing
complex and abstract ideas would be forbidden by computers that would be
worshipped and obeyed as tangible gods. But it would take a very long time to
do
this.
The capture of the rebel band was given overriding priority to the Vals. There
were ten individuals to find, but there were recordings for only a small
number
of those. What information they did have was provided by Doctor Isaac Clayben
of
Melchior, the penal colony in the asteroids from which all the renegades had
escaped.
The Val absorbed the available information, then was fed the mindprint of the
band's leader, Hawks. The historian was a fascinating individual, a man of
some
brilliance and accomplishment literally torn between his tribal and Center
worlds. Though he was not a rebel or an adventurer, nor a man of action in
spite
of some romantic fantasies, it was clear that once Hawks had the documents in
his possession he would have felt compelled to read them out of sheer
curiosity
and a hunger to know-and that he no doubt understood them and their
implications.
Recent events not included in the mindprint showed that he was capable of much
adaptation, capable of killing if need be, and capable of living in and out of
the wild as well. The Val was convinced that in a hopeless position Hawks
would
kill himself rather than surrender. He would not, however, desert his own
people, particularly the women, unless forced to do so by circumstances or
necessity. As a result, if Hawks could be located, so might most or all of the
rest.
They will go after the rings, the Val noted. Although it is unlikely, we
cannot
assume they do not already know their location. Vals must cover all four
rings.
Agreed, Master System responded. But you will not be posted there. They will
need ships other than what they have. They will need contacts among the
freebooters and others. The Koll Val is working on this end. You will assist.
If
any are sighted, trace them. So long as they do not possess all five rings, it
is imperative that they be taken alive, so that we may find how many others
share the forbidden knowledge. However, once they possess all five rings, if
they ever do, then no limitations will be imposed.
But surely there is no danger of them ever obtaining all five! They must run
our
gauntlet in each case!
It is always possible. I see a hidden hand in this, one who has selected most
of
these for just this purpose. It is this hidden hand I want most of all. It is
possible our great enemy is behind this. If so, then they are dangerous
indeed.
We can take no chances. Also, time is not necessarily on our side. If they do
not succeed, but escape, we might well face their grandchildren. Go. You are
programmed and assigned.
The Val disconnected. The entire process, from Absolution through
reprogramming,
had taken just a few seconds. The Val, who thought often in computer time but
functioned in human time, could not help but note this fact alone.
How could they possibly win?
1. THE WORLD THAT MOVES THROUGH STARS
IT WAS A SPACESHIP-AND IT WAS MORE THAN THAT.
It was a starship, a ship designed to go to places even the eye could not
follow
and to go distances beyond the grasp of human minds-but it was more than that.
It looked very much like a great tube, flattened a bit on top and bottom and
rounded at both ends, with protuberances that were bays for the scout ships
that
clung to their mother in special recesses, and sensors, and communications
devices-and much, much more.
The ship itself-one of the hundreds that circled great Jupiter in silence,
shut
down, but preserved and ready for reactivation if their service should ever be
needed-was a bit over fourteen kilometers long. The ship had a brain and
massive
amounts of stored knowledge and skills that had not been needed in a very long
while.
"I wonder if it is bothered by that," Cloud Dancer said, more to herself than
to
the others who were gazing at the viewing screen of their relatively small
interplanetary freighter.
"Huh?" Walks With the Night Hawks, her husband and co-conspirator, looked at
her. "Who is bothered by what?"
"The ship. It has a mind, a soul, as this one does. Its spirit is dedicated to
work, to a great task, and it has been told to do nothing since it did that
task. I wonder if it minds, sitting there idle, without hope or opportunity to
do its task, to be itself, for all this time."
"It sure fought like hell to keep us out," came the gravelly voice of the Crow
Agency man, Raven. Not long, before they had been the targets of some of those
fighters nestled inside the great ships; only deciphering the clearance code
in
time and some fancy maneuvering had saved them from being blown from the sky.
"That was its duty," the Hyiakutt Indian woman responded. She was quite smart,
but having been raised in a primitive culture, she saw the universe from a
perspective as alien to the others as they were to the computer brain of the
great ship they now approached. "Now it receives us. I wonder if it is eager,
or
if it is waiting to devour us?"
"Neither," an odd voice said through the ship's intercom. When Star Eagle, as
they had named the computer pilot of the ship, spoke on his own, it was in a
pleasant male voice, but when China was interfaced into the ship's system,
forming a human-computer synthesis, the voice sounded strange, neither male
nor
female, but somehow both at once. "There is no command module on any of these
ships. It was removed when they were placed in storage here. These ships have
many brains, as it were, since even the tiny fractions of a second it might
take
to relay an order might cause needless risk, but the only ones there now are
automatic maintenance and ship's security. The tech cult that discovered the
human interfaces intended to fly the ship themselves, without a command
module."
Hawks frowned. "Is that possible?"
"Yes, but not efficient or practical. They did not think beyond that point,
since even attaining that much was highly improbable. All plans were based on
the escape, not what came next. Just like us."
Yes, but we're at least better off than they would have been. We have Koll,
who's been out there, and information from Raven and Warlock. We are not going
completely blind. He frowned, wondering if that was really true or if he was
just trying to reassure himself.
Still, he had no doubt they would get away. No mystical sense informed him,
and
he knew of no particular edge on their part, but even though they'd had to
fight
every step of the way to this point, he couldn't shake the feeling that
somehow
they were being led.
Most of this crew had been selected, somehow, by Lazlo Chen, the ambitious
chief
administrator of the central Asian district and discoverer of the information
that five gold rings could, if found and used properly, deactivate or control
Master System. Chen owned the only one of the rings remaining on Earth, and
was
determined that this group secure the others for him. The stakes were quite
high-nothing less than godhood for the one who found all the rings and brought
them together.
But even Chen was subject to Master System; even Chen had severe limits on his
knowledge and power. Chen's reach extended over the whole of the Earth and
even
beyond, but it did not reach as far out as Jupiter. Since their escape from
the
asteroid penal colony, Melchior, Hawks had been convinced that another player
was also on the scene, one who also wanted them to succeed and whose reach did
extend farther out. Who or what this player was could not be known now; nor
could they guess whether it was using Chen for its own ends, or whether Chen
was
using it.
This was a strange band to pick for such a mission. Hawks was a Hyiakutt
Amerind
historian, a student of rebels and warriors, not one himself. Cloud Dancer had
been born and raised in the Plains culture, a primitive suddenly thrust into a
world of what to her was magic. The Chow sisters came out of an equally
primitive society in China, but as personal servants to Center personnel
they'd
had more experience with technology; they had an uncanny ability to pick even
computer-encoded locks, though they were otherwise ignorant. Raven, the Crow
security man built like a boulder, and his associate Manka Warlock, the
Jamaican
beauty with the cold personality and a liking for killing people, seemed more
obvious choices, but neither of them had ever before left Earth. Out here in
space they were as ignorant and helpless as he was. The selection of China,
too,
made some sense-originally known as Song Ching, she was the daughter of the
chief administrator of China and the product of a breeding experiment to
produce
a subrace that was physically perfect and mentally so advanced it was hoped to
be a match for the computer system-but she, too, had never been off Earth, and
thanks to the cruel experimentation of the scientists on Melchior she was
hardly
a perfect choice now. Blind and compulsively pregnant, her true value was only
in her ability to use the human interface to become one with the mind of the
ship's computer pilot, as she was doing now.
That, too, was a mystery. Why did these ships have interfaces for humans at
all?
Master System alone could build them, in far-off, wholly automated factories
among the stars. Why was there a bridge, with connections to the vital parts
and
operations of the ships, as if humans and computers were supposed to work
together? It was this absolute control of space that made Master System
unbeatable, and it had been perhaps nine hundred years since any humans had
traveled on spaceships as anything other than passengers. It would have been
simple to build these ships so that no one could ever control or tamper with
the
command modules, the computer brains. Why hadn't that been done?
Even the huge interstellar vessel they were now approaching had positions for
humans, and more than one bridge, yet these ships had not been built until
after
Master System had taken total control of humanity. These ships had been
designed
not for human use but to carry the bulk of humanity against its will to
captivity among the stars. Why, then, were there a bridge and interfaces for
humans, since without those they would have no escape, no opportunity to flee,
at all?
And then there was Reba Koll, the essential one, the only one who'd been out
there before, and the only one who herself had used the interfaces illegally
to
pilot a spaceship. They had a lot riding on the memories and long-unused
skills
of the strange old woman with the tail, and she was quite mad-who wouldn't
have
been after enduring ten years of experimentation on Melchior? She claimed not
to
be Reba Koll but someone-or something -else she would not now reveal. Even the
security forces who had pursued them from Melchior claimed the same, and that
worried Hawks. He didn't think she was some sort of inhuman monstrosity, but
he
wondered if she was something very dangerous such as the carrier of a dread
disease.
The final two in the party had been unexpected additions to the mission.
Silent
Woman, a product of years of slavery and degradation in the primitive culture
of
North America, her tongue cut out, her body covered with colorful tattoos, was
almost childlike, and there was little or no way to communicate with her on
more
than a rudimentary basis. She understood none of the languages the others used
commonly-though Hawks had used a mindprint machine to give her basic English-
and
she seemed to live in a world all her own.
Sabatini, the cruel captain from whom they'd taken this ship, was here
involuntarily, a prisoner. They could neither trust him nor let him go; sooner
or later, Hawks knew, they would have to face his disposal.
There was nothing left to see on the viewscreen; Star Eagle was now so close
to
the massive interstellar ship that the vast bulk blotted everything out.
"Strap in and prepare for a set of big jolts," the ship warned them. "My
reverse
thrusters are shot thanks to the battle, and that means, in effect, no brakes.
I've done as much as I can, but now we will have to be caught and halted by
tractor beam and that's going to be a pretty big shock. Helmets on and switch
to
internal air supply. I have no idea if we can maintain pressurization."
They were already all strapped in, both here and in the lounge and up on the
bridge, yet each checked his own straps and webbing to make certain they were
secure. The ship then activated the restraint system, pulling them back and
holding them so firmly that it was hard to breathe. All were wearing pressure
suits and helmets now, and they could only wait.
Suddenly there was a massive jolt, a tremor that shook the whole ship,
followed
by another, then another. The ship seemed to lurch, moving in all directions
at
once, and all around were creaks and groans of metal in distress. Loud hissing
sounds punctuated the moaning and groaning of fatigued metal. The sense of
motion and the shocks stopped quickly; the noises did not.
"What's happening?" Warlock asked nervously. "We're not going to die just on
the
edge of victory!"
The speakers sputtered, hissed, and crackled. "I-released China-to her," came
the pilot's normal voice. "Ship-break up. Suits on, hold tight-I-"
"You're breaking up!" Hawks said through his suit radio. "If I understand
correctly the ship is breaking up in the tractor. Will you be all right?"
"You-get in-soon as bays close. Decompressing... mand module-no serious danger
to-China-"
Suddenly there was silence except for the faint buzz of the carrier in the
suit
radio. The lights blinked, then went off, leaving the passengers for a moment
in
darkness and then in an eerie semilight as their helmet and small body locator
lights came on.
"Is the ship dead?" Cloud Dancer asked, awed by the idea. "Has Star Eagle now
soared to the otherworld?"
"I-I don't know," Hawks responded. "The body of the ship is dead, that's for
sure, but those computers have their own power supplies and sources of energy.
It's possible he's still alive and we can rescue him. I hope so."
There was a sudden and unexpected jarring and the whole ship shuddered, then
seemed to roll over slightly on its side, as the big ship's tractor mechanism
pulled them in, controlled by the automatic maintenance and defense systems.
"We're in!" Raven called. "Damn it, we're inside the thing!"
Hawks was suddenly galvanized into action. "Warlock, go forward and see to
China
and Reba Koll and bring them back here."
"No need" came Koll's sharp, raspy voice over the radio. "We're all right and
coming back now."
"The command module," China said in her own soft, high voice. "Have you seen
to
it?"
"Huh?" Hawks frowned. "Where is it?"
"Aft, in the first cargo hold. There's a big round plate in the floor secured
by
nine recessed bolts and an electronic combination. You throw two long switches
to reveal the lock."
Hawks looked around. "Okay, Chow sisters. That sounds like it's in your
department."
"No need," China told him. "I know the combination and it can be set and timed
to blow the bolts. I come as quick as I can. Someone get a measuring tool and
meet us there."
"Do we have to do it now?" Warlock asked irritably. "It's a damned machine.
It'll wait."
"It is one with us," Cloud Dancer responded in a bitter, almost menacing tone.
"It comes with us."
China was there now, being led by Reba Koll. Hawks shrugged as he was handed
an
electronic measure from Sabatini's kit and went back with them. "Nobody leaves
yet," he cautioned. "You don't want to go into that kind of place without
backup."
"How long's the air last in these things?" Raven muttered.
"Better than sixty hours," Koll told him. "There's time."
"Yeah." The Crow security man sighed. "There's time, but is there air out
there?"
Hawks wasn't quite sure what China had in mind, but he was willing to go along
with her. She was a strange sort, but she knew these machines like nobody else
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PIRATESOFTHETHUNDERPIRATESOFTHETHUNDERCopyright©1987byJackL.Chalkere-bookver.1.0ForJudy-LynndelRey,auniquegiantinafielddominatedbypygmies,forallthatIamtoday.Iwishyou'dstuckaroundfortheclimax.PROLOGUENINEHADDIEDINTHEFIGHT,NINEGOODFRIENDSANDfamilymembers.Fromherhaveninthesmallhollowescapepodattachedto...

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分类：外语学习 价格：5.9玖币 属性：162 页 大小：390.54KB 格式：PDF 时间：2024-12-14

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