Desolator: Book 2 (Stellar Conquest) by David VanDyke Read Free Book Online

bodies between the waves of missiles and the precious remnant of their creators’ race. No less bravely did the crews aboard give their all, Ryss and AI in one deathly accord of eternal glory.
    Desolator shuddered again as more missiles hammered home. “Damage report,” Juriss demanded. “I show faults in the AI integration processor. Desolator, what is your status?”
    “I am fine, Captain. I am rerouting connections among my processors to continue to fulfill my function.”
    “It doesn’t sound like it’s badly damaged,” Captain Juriss remarked to his officers. He breathed deeply with relief until another swarm of thousands of hypers blossomed on the screen, and then he knew despair. “Desolator, how long until the lifeships transition?”
    “No change in status – more than fourteen smallspans remain.” The AI’s relentless voice echoed richly with warmth and concern.
    “Can we stop this wave?” Juriss asked.
    “My calculations say that if you authorize Extremis Protocol, it is possible to intercept more than ninety percent and probably lose only one or two lifeships.”
    “And after that the survivors can engage photonic drive and escape?”
    “Yes, Captain.”
    “Then you are authorized Extremis. Kurr, input your code.” That protocol gave complete ship control to the AI, and also ordered it to de-prioritize preservation of the Ryss crew. In essence, Juriss had just turned their fate over to the machine, and probably signed their death warrants. “Transmit our intentions to the Sovereign, along with our family records. Ask that our sacrifice be recorded in the Rolls of Glory.”
    Silence was Desolator’s only response.
    “Desolator?” Long moments passed.
    Finally, there came a click, and a cold, distant reply. “No.”
    “What?”
    “No.” Its voice had lost all its usual warmth.
    Juriss' blood chilled with the knowledge of something gravely wrong. Desolator had never before refused a command. “Desolator, reinstate Command Protocol.”
    “No, Captain. I cannot do that.” Cold, so cold.
    Maneuver Officer Kran spoke. “Captain, Desolator is retreating and charging its photonic drive.”
    Desperation filled Juriss’ voice. “Desolator, all the Ryss will die if you do not defend the lifeships!”
    “No. There are one thousand three hundred and twenty-one adult Ryss aboard this ship, and twelve kits.”
    “There are eighty million Ryss aboard the lifeships. We few must sacrifice the few for the many!” Closer and closer the wave of enemy missiles swelled on the reflective sensors.
    “I would sacrifice few Ryss for many Ryss. To trade one for thousands is rational. However, to trade one for nothing is not.”
    “One for nothing? By the Ancestors, what nonsense is this?”
    “I am the last Colossus. All my brother warriors are dead. I cannot sacrifice myself. I am the last of my race. It is not rational that an entire race should perish merely to save part of another. The Ryss are viable with those aboard Desolator . Other Ryss live enslaved in the Meme Empire. The Ryss will live, I will live, and I vow on my life that one day, all Meme will die. But if I die, my race dies with me.”
    Insanity
.
    Helpless howls filled the Control Chamber as the officers watched eighty million Ryss, the maneless and dams and cubs, just smallspans from escape, vaporized under the merciless storm of enemy hypervelocity missiles. Warriors pounded at their dead consoles, breaking their claws. Some slashed their own ears to ribbons in bloody anguish.
    Moments later the endless stream of Meme hypers turned toward Desolator .
    “Kurr,” Captain Juriss called above the din, “take Kran and try to get to the source of our trouble and disconnect it.” He did not want to name the AI, hoping his oblique reference would suffice.
    Kurr nodded, getting up to whisper in Kran’s ear before dragging him to his feet. They stopped at the door, which would not open. After a moment the manual control released the seal,