PART 2 : SEIGE

  General Sweet was in a foul mood. The air that surrounded him in his office was as dark and thick as the three hour old coffee that was thoroughly chilled in the mug in his left hand.

  He snorted.

  A light began to flash in the corner of his eye; it illuminated one side of his pale face in intermittent bleeps. The General thought to himself for a moment, trying to remember if he had left it on after sending a cryptic memo to his superiors.

  He turned.

  The dark screen shined again and he read the words that dance before him.

"Incoming Message..."

  He frowned.

  Messages weren't supposed to be sent to his office without first passing through about four secretaries and a number of security protocols before he was even warned of an incoming transmission. Someone had fucked up somewhere down the line. It flashed again. With a calloused hand, he punched down on his keyboard.

  "What is it!?!"

  "Hello General Sweet. I must admit, bypassing your security grid was an easier task than I expected. The military should be ashamed of itself."

  The General gazed at his screen; the hollow, artificial voice that emanated from his speakers chilled his blood colder than his coffee.

  "Uh, who is this? How did you get on this channel?"

  The print that had appeared a few moments earlier disappeared as a new set began to spell out with the continuing voice.

  "That's not important right now General. What is important is that I have your little spy that you sent to us aboard the Necronomicon. He has been neutralized with extreme prejudice."

  Sweet turned in his chair as the butt of his cigar slipped out from between his lips.

  "About five seconds of snooping around in the database aboard his ship told me everything I needed to know. Now here I am talking to you General."

  "I, uh ... I demand to know who this is."

  "That was nice and domineering. Any more authoritive and the kindergarten students just might start respecting you."

  Sweet began to huff in efforts to intimidate the nothingness that surrounded him.

  "I won't stand for..."

  "Shut up General, I'm on your side."

  He looked around his office for a moment in the silence that followed. The drawer to his desk opened and he pulled out a fresh Cuban before reaching for the golden Zippo near his keyboard. It was engraved with the face of a playing card joker, the emblem of a small click of Army Rangers that he once belonged to; he had long since forgotten what it had stood for.

  "How can I trust you? Your one of those bastards on board workin' for that renegade they call 'Captain.' How do I know you didn't kill my operative?"

  "I did kill your operative. You should be happy, he was an idiot anyway."

  Sweet closed the lighter and the flame extinguished. The cigar in his mouth was still unlit as it hung limply.

  "But you see, my dear General, that's what I wanted to talk to you about."

  He fiddled with the lighter again, not sure of what to say.

  "Your silence proves that I have your attention. That's good. Now listen to me. My name is Psi and I'm one of the three artificially intelligent programs incorporated into the Necronomicon's primary computer core."

  Sweet scratched his temple with a nicotine-stained fingernail. Before he could say anything, the old print disappeared and four words appeared as Psi resumed talking.

  "I'm like a robot."

  He nodded in minimal understanding.

  "Just an incredibly brilliant one without a body.

  "Now, it has come to my attention that the crew of the Necronomicon is not fit to command her."

  "That's damn right!" The General brought down his cigar so quickly that it flew from his hand and it rolled off his desk to the floor. "A fine piece of technology such as that belongs in the hands of this man's Army! Cretins and nubile sycophants like them don't deserve it; it should be under the command of a real leader!"

  "A leader like yourself?"

  "You better believe it!"

  "Than we are of the same mind General. You want control of the Necronomicon and I would like to give it to you. I believe we may be of mutual aid to one another."

  Sweet was shaking in his chair; the sharp pangs of greed were twisting his stomach into knots that boiled the ulcer within.

  "Uh, what do you propose?"

  "Patience General, patience. I will give you what you desire; you can count on that. The Necronomicon will be yours and you can do with the crew as you please. All I require of you now is a small favor that I know you can accomplish."

  "I'm listening."

  "The Necronomicon is scheduled to dock at Tokyo Airstation in the next few days for repairs and routine maintenance."

  "We have no jurisdiction in Japan! How are we supposed to get a hold of them over there?"

  "That's precisely my point General. We can not have them keep their appointment. This is where you come in."

  Sweet fidgeted in his seat as the the AI laid out his plan on the table. The General nodded in admiration; it was risky, but it was also the best chance they had of capturing the renegade ship.

  "Very good. I'll make the call to the President right away. She's so terrified of looking weak in front of the populace and other foreign countries that she'll easily accept my proposal. It's so simple it's brilliant."

  The computer flashed lightly in electronic pride.

  "Yes it is. I'll be in contact with you when your forces mobilize."

  "It's going to be a pleasure working with you Cy."

  "That's Psi General, and I'm sure it will be."

  The screen went dark and General Sweet leaned back in his chair with a broad smile on his face as he twiddled his thick fingers.

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On to Ch.8 - Advancing Theories

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