Jon’s throat moved and his tongue wriggled. “You’ll fail,” he managed to say.

  The towering Sacerdote peered at him, and he concentrated—the alien’s head snapped up in alarm, and he snarled.

  It was funny, but a great feeling of warmth surrounded Jon. He felt as if he was part of a giant collective of souls that cocooned him against the spirit of Cronus.

  The huge Sacerdote backhanded him, and Jon slid away across the floor, his head numb from the blow.

  Despite that, the feeling of unity, of warmth, gave Jon the wherewithal to draw his revolver.

  “Put that down,” the Sacerdote ordered.

  From on the floor, Jon pulled the trigger. With a loud retort, the gun kicked in Jon’s hand.

  The Sacerdote staggered backward, a great wound in his left pectoral. Blood began to pour.

  “No!” the Sacerdote thundered. “I am—”

  BOOM! BOOM!

  From on the floor, Jon held the gun with both hands.

  The great Neanderthal-like head exploded in gore as the heavy slugs did their damage. The mighty Sacerdote toppled, hitting the floor with a wet thud.

  The body twitched, twitched again and lay still. Then, a black wisp of smoke rose from the ruined skull. The wisp twisted back and forth as if looking around, and then shot at one of the rising scientists. Abruptly, the black tendril of smoke halted. It wriggled and managed to move in a different direction, until something forced it to halt again.

  Was that tendril of black smoke the particle of Cronus, his intellect?

  The smoke wriggled faster as if trying to move, but it appeared as if it was stuck in place. Suddenly, it began dissipating, dissolving and disappeared.

  At that point, the rest of the techs and scientists began to stir on the floor, while marines moved their two-ton battlesuits.

  “That was weird,” Jon said under his breath. What could explain it?

  The far door opened and Gloria rushed in. Behind her marched an old woman with dyed black hair and a surgically smoothed face. The old woman wore a long black dress and seemed uncommonly serious.

  She halted, stared at the dead Sacerdote and then at Jon holding his smoking gun.

  Jon felt conspicuous holding it, and thus holstered it. At that point, he finally realized who the old woman was: the Kames representative he’d spoken with before the voyage to the Red Dwarf System.

  The old woman raised an arm and pointed a finger at him.

  An ominous feeling struck Jon, and he wasn’t sure if he was about to die.

  -5-

  Jon and the Kames rep went into a side room, finding chairs and sitting.

  “Send the Seiner away,” the old woman said. Her name was Sarah Hodges, and she was ninety-four.

  Jon spoke into a unit, telling Red Demeter to return to the university. Then, he eyed the old woman and waited.

  “You killed Lugo Malagate,” Sarah said.

  Jon opened his mouth to explain.

  “There is no need,” Sarah said. “I know all about it.”

  “How?” he asked.

  “You will use greater decorum when speaking to me, as you are speaking to the Kames.”

  Jon dipped his head. “Yes. That makes sense. You—I mean the Kames—must have united against Cronus.”

  “The evil in the Sacerdote was not Cronus,” the old woman said. “It was a particle of his identity. He could possibly have grown into Cronus over time. But that doesn’t matter anymore. I knew about Lugo because I sensed what he did. I could not unite with him at that distance, but I recorded the events when he was in normal time and space. What I mean to say is that I received knowledge of his activities as if he were a man shouting across a great gulf.”

  “Impressive,” Jon said.

  “We are the Kames. Now, we know that you defended yourself against Cronus in Lugo. You had no choice in the matter. Thus, we do not deem it as an attack against the Kames. Because you will undoubtedly wonder about it, we used our abilities to block some of the Cronus-particle-driven Sacerdote as he used heightened telepathy. Because we blocked, you could move again in order to kill the Sacerdote. We did the rest.”

  “You’re talking about the wisp of smoke,” Jon said.

  “It was more than smoke, but we will say no more about it.”

  Jon nodded.

  “You performed a prodigy, Jon Hawkins. You saved an alien race from extinction. That was marvelously done. You also destroyed a Main—”

  “Not its brain-core,” Jon said, interrupting.

  “No. But you set back the AIs, we believe. You have given the Confederation more time. We will all be stronger because of that.”

  “Is there more of Cronus around?” Jon asked.

  “I have not felt him. Thus, I do not think so.”

  “Can you help us understand the Subspace Teleport Device?”

  “That is your specialty.” The old woman cleared her throat. “By all of us working together, we have grown in strength against the machine menace. Perhaps we shall continue to win. Know this, Jon Hawkins: we Kames will continue to work with the rest of you. You, personally, are the catalyst to something mighty, we think.”

  The old woman struggled out of her chair.

  Jon jumped up to help.

  “None of that,” she said, slapping his hand away. “I am the Kames rep. I will do this myself.”

  Jon remembered the great sense of warmth, of belonging. Was that what it felt like working for the Kames? He could well understand how a person would come to enjoy being with them.

  “Goodbye,” Jon said. “I appreciate all your help.”

  Ninety-four-year-old Sarah Hodges nodded stiffly, heading for the door. She opened it and went out, slamming it shut behind her.

  ***

  Later, Jon and Gloria stood hand-in-hand under the great Bristol Dome in a viewing area. The XT University with its trees was nearby.

  “We’re finally home again,” Gloria said.

  Jon released her hand and put an arm around her shoulders, pulling his wife tighter against him.

  “I’m glad for Bast,” she said.

  “Yeah,” Jon said, staring up at the stars. He was glad for Bast, too. He wondered what Colonel Graham would have thought of all this. He wished he could talk to the colonel one more time and thank him for all he had done for him. What a great man Colonel Graham had been.

  “What are you thinking?” Gloria asked, peering up at him. “You look so solemn.”

  Jon smiled at his wife. “I’m thinking that our lives are short. We should use them for good that will make us and others proud.”

  “I know of another way we could do that.”

  “Yeah?”

  “We need to make little Jons and Glorias and teach them well so they can take our place someday.”

  Jon nodded. Maybe that’s what Colonel Graham had been doing, teaching the next generation how to live well. First, though, there needed to be another generation.

  “Come on, honey,” he said, taking her hand again. “Let’s enjoy this night while we can.”

  THE END

  To the Reader: Thanks! I hope you’ve enjoyed A.I. Rescue. If you liked the book and would like to see the series continue, please put up some stars and a review. Let new readers know what’s in store for them.

  -- Vaughn Heppner

 

 

  Vaughn Heppner, A.I. Rescue (The A.I. Series Book 7)

 

 

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