“So we can’t expect anything from Planetary Defense to help us.”
“No, I’m afraid not. If anyone is going to stop the Puppeteers, it will have to be us.”
Mike was surprised at the reaction to this statement: the crew cheered. Instead of having an ally in their Puppeteers these people had been hosting tyrants who didn’t give a damn about whether their host lived or died. The chance to strike back at their tormenters proved to be a powerful motivator.
* * *
“You know” said the chief, “I really hate this beard.”
“Yeah, but you have to look like the same guy when the ship shows up.”
The station chief scratched his chin. Just then the communications equipment beeped: a ship was hailing them.
“Station here, whaddaya want?!”
Mike winced, but the station chief sounded like he had when Mike’s ship had docked.
“We’re here for some fuel...dammit.”
“I don’t suppose you brought anything?”
“Not a chance.”
“You can use docking bay 6...I hope your ship explodes.”
“Screw you.”
The screen went dead. The chief looked at Mike. Mike smiled encouragingly. The chief grinned.
Mike and 10 of the station crew stood in the corridors outside docking bay 6. They gripped their tasers so hard their knuckles were white. Mike mopped his brow. While they had only been there for 10 or 15 minutes, it seemed like hours.
With a shudder, the incoming ship bumped into the docking bay.
“Putzes,” muttered the station chief. “I’m probably going to have to spend 6 hours in an EVA suit to fix that.”
Mike glared at the chief, who quieted down and then absently started scratching his beard.
The door opened and several crew from the docked ship ambled aboard. As they turned a corner Mike and his men sprang out and tasered them. The crewmen barely noticed: perhaps this happened every time the docked with the station.
Mike and 5 others rushed aboard the ship. Quickly going from compartment to compartment they searched for more crew. They burst into a room with the ship captain - a scruffy looking individual with a beard almost as extensive as the chief’s – sat reading a magazine.
“I told you, I didn’t bring any-” he didn’t quite finish his sentence before the tasers hit him.
Mike and the station chief searched the captain’s cabin while the rest of the team went to see if there was anyone else aboard. After a moment the chief cried out. Mike hurried to his side to see what the problem was: maybe the Captain’s Puppeteer had crawled onto him.
“See! I knew it!” The chief was pointing at an open cabinet full of candy bars. “That SOB lied to me! He had all this stuff and he said he didn’t have anything!”
Mike shook his head ruefully.
* * *
After all the preparation, the worrying, actually capturing the ship had been an anti-climax. The more vexing problem was what to do next.
The next day found Mike addressing the assembled crews of the ship and the station.
“We have a problem. The plan is to send out the ship and have it pretend to gather rocks for the bombardment. Well and good. The problem is that the ship needs at least one person who is hosting a Puppeteer to act as pilot. That means one of you will have to volunteer to host a blob.”
The crowd shifted about nervously.
“The good news is that it won’t be one of the old versions that we took off of you. It will be a ‘domesticated’ version that should be a partner instead of a tyrant.”
“The alternative is to sit tight and hope that the other heavy ships in the Puppeteer fleet do not have enough fuel to do any damage to Earth. To my mind, this is an unacceptable risk. Will any of you volunteer?”
The people in the crowed shuffled about and looked at each other. Then, almost as one, they each took a step back, leaving the captain of the scout ship standing in front of them. The captain glared back at them but held his ground.
“Yeah, I’ll do it,” He said reluctantly. He looked at Alice. “You’re sure that it can…you know…grow my…”
“Yes!”
“And I only have to wear it while I’m piloting the ship?”
“Correct – you only have to wear the Puppeteer while piloting.”
You are still willing to live with those terms?
I suppose so.
Thanks – you are making as much of a sacrifice as he is.
Tell me about it – do you see that beard?!
The captain took a deep breath.
“Then we have an agreement.”
The crowd let out a collective sigh.
* * *
The captain wore a grim but determined look as he sat in the middle of the room, waiting for the Puppeteer. Mike and Alice came in. Mike took a seat behind the captain with his back to the man while Alice stood between them.
“Take your shirt off, this will only be a moment.”
While the captain was taking off his shirt, Mike took his off and concentrated. His Puppeteer expanded and then split in two. Alice took it off his back and approached the captain. The captain had closed his eyes and his face scrunched up like he was in front of a firing squad.
“Are you sure about this?” Alice asked him.
“Yes. Do it before I change my mind!” He said through clenched teeth.
Alice glanced at Mike, who was feeling fatigued from the split. Mike nodded and Alice put the Puppeteer on the captain’s back. After a moment the captain said “Quit dawdling, just do it!”
“I already did.”
The captain opened one eye and turned around to glare at the two of them. Gingerly, he reached behind his back, touched the Puppeteer, and gasped.
“This one’s a lot different.”
He stood a moment as if listening.
“Much…different…”
He experimentally moved his arm.
“For one thing, I still control myself.”
“Mine says that controlling the host is some sort of abomination – the aliens had to be desperate to have done it.”
“Hmph! Well, I think I can stand it…at least long enough to pilot the ship.”
“You will take care of it, won’t you?”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“And talk to it – they get lonely if you don’t, you know, and…”
“Look, don’t push it.”
Mike sighed.
* * *
The captain left a few days later on the captured heavy ship. He still seemed ambivalent towards the Puppeteer, but at least he didn’t seem to fear wearing one the way he had at first. The Puppeteer seemed to think matters had improved a bit.
Well, at least I’m going to be on this station when it explodes. The Puppeteer informed Mike.
But…but why would it do that?!
Because the rest of the Puppeteers will attack.
Yeah, but I’ll be defending it!
And that’s why I want to be as far away as possible!
“Ingrate,” Mike said under his breath.
* * *
The next ship was even easier than the first to capture, since the team knew what to expect. After a few months, the entire “fleet” of alien ships had been captured. While the Puppeteers certainly had some ships left on their home base, they did not have anything left that could pose a threat to Earth. Even Alice was impressed.
“Your plan actually worked.”
“Try not to sound so surprised,” Mike replied sourly.
“It’s not that I didn’t think it would work…” Mike gave her an appraising stare.
“OK, so I thought it would fail; but it’s really great that it worked out.”
Just then, the vidcom signaled in incoming call.
“At least until now,” Alice finished.
Make glared at her but headed to the control center. By the time he got the
re, the station chief was already answering the call.
“Yeah, whaddaya want?” inquired the chief crankily.
“We want to talk to Mike.” The individual on the other end of the link was unusually tidy for someone under the alien’s control.
“Who?” The chief spat back.
“We know that the station has been compromised, we’re sure that Mike Smith is behind it, put him on.”
“What makes you think that there’s something wrong with my station?”
“The captain of ship 7 told us as much.”
“What?” goggled the station chief.
“Although the way he put it was something along the lines of ‘You stinking, slimy bastards will get yours soon enough.’”
“You’re wrong about it. You’re wrong about everything.”
Just to show the depths of his hatred for the aliens, the chief put them on hold. He had even arranged for elevator music to be piped in.
The chief glanced at Mike. “I knew that guy held a grudge because I took all his chocolate bars...”
“I’d better talk to them.”
The station chief scratched his beard. “Does this mean I can shave now?”
“Yes.”
“Aaaalllriiight!” The chief took off before Mike could change his mind.
Mike switched on the screen and regarded the person on the other end.
“Yes?”
“Surrender the station and all the ships you’ve captured, or we will destroy you and them.”
Mike smiled.
“Is that the best you can come up with?”
“We mean it.”
“I‘ve rigged the station with a ‘dead man’s switch.’ If you try to take it, it will be destroyed. The crews of the ships would probably rather die than turn them over to you.”
Mike crossed his arms. “Rather than threatening me, you should be worried about getting out of this system before the humans decide to pay you a visit of their own.”
The other regarded Mike for a while.
“You don’t have the will to die. Neither do they.”
“As for them, who can say? What’s sure is that they will probably turn the ships over to Planetary Defense, at least those that don’t try to hurl a few rocks your way.”
“Also, you don’t realize what you are facing. You are not going up against some human or a zombie; you are facing two who are working together.”
The other man looked carefully at Mike. “I’m surprised that you would make such a claim. The other humans would not accept such a leader. I wonder if they know.”
“They do. How else could we pilot the ships without a Puppeteer.”
The other man winced when Mike said their name.
“Well, we shall see if you are telling the truth soon enough.”
“What’s that supposed to mean.”
“You’ll see.”
* * *
In the days that followed, Planetary Defense finally put together a comm link with the station. When the link came up Mike expected to see the General, but found himself talking to some guy in a lab coat.
“Hello.”
“Is this the fuel station out in the asteroid belt?”
“Yeah, that’s us.”
“Ha! Finally found you.”
“I guess that laser beacon that we’ve been pointing at you gave you a hint?”
The guy on the other end glowered at Mike.
“Are you with Planetary Defense?”
“Yeah, I guess I should get someone else on the line. Can you hang on for a bit?”
“Sure I could -” then the muzak came back on and the PD seal showed up instead of the harried guy Mike had been talking to.
After 30 minutes of stale tunes, the line cut out. Mike sighed and went back to a book he had been reading.
Over the course of about a week, PD got the hang of maintaining a steady link. After that Mike did find himself talking to the General.
“General.”
“Mr. Smith.”
“And how are things going with Planetary Defense?”
The General eyed Mike warily. “That depends on you.”
“Well, for starters, the crews of the various ships we took from the Puppeteers are probably ready to go home. That means you will need one of the smaller ships to act as a shuttle. I would recommend keeping the station manned since we are in a good position to keep an eye on the Puppeteers.”
Mike sighed. “And I imagine that you will want to take command of the station and have myself and Ms. Winslow remanded to your custody.”
The General smiled tightly. “Actually, we in PD like the idea of keeping those who… erm...prefer alien control in one place nice and far from Earth.”
Mike raised an eyebrow. “Really, out here with all these rocks?”
“Well, PD would naturally want to take control of the station, but there’s no reason that you… uh...people couldn’t form a colony out there.”
“Are we talking about a gulag, General?”
“Something friendlier than that. And your people could help with the expansion of the station.”
“Ah, a base to interdict the Puppeteers when they try something.”
“Do you think that is likely?”
“Sadly, yes.”
“Then we really will need people out there to help with the construction.”
“Well, I suppose it beats being a lab rat on Earth.”
The General smiled again. “Think of it as providing an invaluable service to the Human race.”
Mike chuckled at that.
* * *
PD sent out a crew of 48 people to take command of the station. At that point Mike, Alice and the 4 heavy freighter pilots had Puppeteers. The crew was mostly scientists, with some security personnel to keep an eye on the Guided.
PD was very leery of using Puppeteer based pilots and one of the first priorities was to refit some of the shuttles to function as fighters that a human could use without help from a Puppeteer. Mike tried to convince the military that this was a Bad idea™, and that was how Mike first got to know Major William Sterling, Commander of Planetary Defense, Space Division.
Sterling was a man about 40 years old who tended to frown a lot when talking with Mike.
“Look, captain...”
“Major.”
“Sorry, Major, you have to understand that these ships were designed to be used with a Puppeteer to act as an interface. An unaided human pilot will simply be unable to pilot the ship as well as a Guided.”
“What the hell is all this ‘Guided’ crap? You people are defectors from the Puppeteer cause. At best you’re enslaved humans guided by a blob with a conscience.”
“It’s not quite that simple. Rather than one or the other being in control we work together. A true gestalt. The whole is greater than the sum of its parts.”
“Look pal, all I know is that I have to secure this base from Puppeteer attacks. Even if I did trust you people, which I don’t, none of you have combat training. My pilots will do a better job of running interference then your people will. End of argument!”
And that seemed to be that. Offers to help with combat preparations were not so politely refused. The Guided were kept away from the ships and from mission control.
Mike was gravely concerned about what would happen when the aliens attacked, but there was nothing he could do.
With the first group of people from Earth came a surprise. While Mike was eating lunch one afternoon, Tom came into the mess hall.
“Tom!”
“Mike!” Tom smiled and walked over to shake hands. Mike pulled him into a hug.
“How you doing?”
Blushing, Tom pushed away.
“Well, aside from getting assigned here, I’m doing fine.”
Mike frowned at Tom.
“Were the folks at PD upset with you?”
“No! Not at all! Busting someone with a
Puppeteer out of a secure facility, not to mention helping with something that looked an awful lot like an alien resistance is looked very highly upon by the powers that be!”
Tom glared at Mike for a moment but smiled despite himself.
“They were pretty upset with me. The fact that we captured a ship but failed to turn it over to them landed me in jail for a bit.”
Mike gaped at him in disbelief.
“But it was to stop the aliens from tossing a rock at the Earth!”
“Yeah, once you took over the station and then turned it over to PD, they got nicer. At least it got me out of jail. After that they really didn’t seem to know what to do with me. I guess you could say I was under house arrest.”
“When an opportunity opened up to act as a liaison with you guys on the station it seemed like destiny.” Tom stared over at Sterling at this. The major returned his glance coolly.
“Well, whatever the reason, it’s good to see you!” Mike moved to give him another hug but Tom stopped him.
“Would you cut that out?”
“Congratulations on your new posting,” Alice observed, with one of her rare smiles.
“Thanks a heap. Good job on taking out the Puppeteer bombers.”
“Yeah – would you believe that most of it was his plan?” she said incredulously.
“Well, there’s gotta be some reason we keep helping him.” Tom grinned back.
“One thing’s for sure, we’ve got a lot of work ahead of us.”
“And very little leave,” Tom said, rolling his eyes.
* * *
Among the groups of people from Earth, there were a large number of scientists. Their main job was to puzzle out the alien’s technology. The anti-gravity used by the space ships was of particular interest to them. With the help of the Guided and the corresponding knowledge of their Puppeteers, understanding the principles behind the ships was much easier.
Every month, one of the smaller ships was used to ferry supplies and personnel back and forth between Earth and the station. In addition to food and other consumables, the ships sometimes brought back some people who had volunteered to host an alien.
They were a varied lot, roughly equal numbers of men and women who, for various reasons, were willing to take on a Puppeteer. Most of them had fairly severe mental problems, and were essentially “cured” by partnering with an alien. In addition, there were 3 people with physical problems that could be solved by some form of regeneration.
One was a spinal cord injury, a quadriplegic named Bob, whose damaged spine took only 3 weeks to regenerate to the point where he regained limited use of his limbs. After 6 weeks, he was able to function at the same level of ability as he had before his accident.