Vaughn Heppner - Star Fortress

A few Jovians survived in various habitats. Some had aimed their telescopes at Ganymede, thereby witnessing a spectacular event of rarest occurrence. The wrecker created much friction, heat and millions of tons of debris.

All the while, those of the Jupiter System who possessed spaceships continued to accelerate for the last bastion of human life: the Inner Planets.

Far away in the distant Neptune System, the Prime Web-Mind of the cyborgs received data of the successful Jupiter Strike.

Each of the four Galilean moons had been hit, eliminating the bio-forms on them. Even now, small attack-craft hunted through the system, capturing Homo sapiens on the remaining moons, asteroids and habitats. Many Jovian spaceships had escaped, although half would disintegrate under a barrage of accelerating missiles that followed them into the Great Dark.

The Prime Web-Mind was on the verge of completing the conquest of Outer Planets. Pluto, Neptune, Uranus, Saturn and now Jupiter were almost under its complete control. An outpost existed on Charon and there was data of an experimental group in the Oort Cloud. Otherwise, the Outer Planets were secured. It was a heady feeling, one that it had always known it could achieve. Reality, however, was so much more enjoyable than simulations.

Already, the accelerated campaign had begun on Inner Planets. Once the conquest of the Solar System was completed…

The Prime Web-Mind ran through known data and parameters on the struggle. It tested several new theories, ran through different scenarios and listed several unique hypotheses.

Once, it had been located on a habitat constructed of weird ice, orbiting Neptune. That had been a frightening time. A single missile could have destroyed its wonderfulness. That would have been a crime of the highest order. Now it was hidden safely in a deep bunker on Triton, one of the few moons with an atmosphere.

The Prime Web-Mind was a complex cyborg, an exciting meld of man and machine. The primary model was constructed of rows of clear bio-domes. In the domes were sheets of brain mass, many hundreds of kilos of brain cells from as many unwilling donors in the Neptune System. Green computing gel surrounded the pink-white mass. Cables, bio-tubes and tight-beam links connected the domes to backup computers and life-support systems. The combination made a seething, pulsating whole. The bio-tubes gurgled as warm liquids pulsed through them. Backup computers made whirring sounds as lights indicated a thousand things.

A panel opened on the floor. A small robotic device with multi-jointed arms moved out. At the ends of the arms were laser welders, melders and calibrating clippers. The various arms moved as the robotic device made a routine checkup through the primary chamber.

Except for a few trivial holdouts in the Jupiter System, on Charon and in the Oort Cloud, it controlled the Outer Planets. The assault-craft and cyborg troops would capture and begin conversion of the last Jovians. Already, a Web-Mind installed itself on Ganymede, although it had sent communications, complaining about seismic shockwaves continuing to reverberate through the moon. Three small ships traveled to Charon to capture the scientists there.

The Prime Web-Mind paused in its ruminations, playing back an unsatisfying memory. Because of its design and unique functions, the memories had the clarity of a holo-video.

In a white sterile room, cyborgs strapped a struggling Homo sapien with a high forehead and frightened although shrewd eyes onto a gurney. His shredded robes of office lay on the floor. Despite his advanced age, the human had supple muscles and joints. He was designated as Dominie Banbury, one of the chief capitalists of the Neptune System. Capturing him had cost seven cyborgs and two assault craft, an unwarranted expenditure of hardware.

Banbury’s personnel were in the process of boarding a cargo vessel and heading to the Number Nine converter. The Prime Web-Mind had recognized Banbury’s uniqueness, the subtly of the human’s mind. It had desired the specialist knowledge and wished to enslave the mind.

“I will pay good money or services—anything—if you will let me go!” the human shouted.

The cyborgs ignored the pleas as they remorselessly laid him down and strapped him to the gurney. Dominie Banbury soon began to rave as he thrashed, forcing the cyborgs to immobilize him with their titanium-reinforced hands. They wheeled him into an operating chamber.

“Please,” Banbury wept. “Let me go.”

The cyborgs rolled the gurney to a brain extractor, shoving his head into a helmet-like device. The unit vibrated and the lasers began to slice open the skull.

“No!” Banbury howled, his eyes bulging.

An injector stabbed his flesh, pumping various drugs into his system. Soon, Banbury’s eyes closed and he breathed evenly, relaxing.

Twenty-nine minutes later, the unit teased Banbury’s brain-mass from the skull cavity. Normally, choppers would divide the tissue as chemical scrubbers deleted old memories and pathways. The tissue would be rearranged on slates and later inserted into computing gel. Banbury’s fate was different. The Prime Web-Mind desired his memories. Thus, the brain-mass entered an obedience cylinder as a fine web of melds attached directly to the tissues.

Theoretically, it should have worked. The Prime had run through ninety-seven thousand possibilities. Banbury’s brain had taken the ninety-seven thousand and first choice—suicide.

It was the first of twenty-nine failures. Twenty-nine Homo sapien minds of unusual quality each chose or inflicted self-elimination rather than exist as a cyborg-slaved brain. The Prime had thus lost the special services of those minds.

That was a bitter loss indeed. For each of those minds had contained creativity that Web-Minds with their mass integration of human brain tissue lacked. The Prime had not yet discovered the reason for this. And that was angering.

Therefore, it kept several unmodified Homo sapien scientists and technicians alive in special chambers on Nereid. It tortured critical information from him or her, and it learned what each human feared the most.

The Prime had long ago concluded that fear was induced, love was given. Therefore, it was better to be feared than loved, leaving the decision of the action to itself.

I am the greatest being in the Solar System. Thus, it is right that I choose for everyone .

The scientists and technicians were on the verge of an incredible discovery: an FTL drive. If they succeeded, no combination of events could defeat it.

The campaign for the Inner Planets was already underway. The Prime Web-Mind was aware of the alliance of the humans. Fortunately, it was too late for the unmodified bio-forms. It had methods for splintering the alliance, as it had agents on several of the worlds. The Highborn were the most dangerous, but they were also incredibly volatile.

With part of its conscience, the Prime continuously ran through simulations and hypotheses. It had concluded that the Highborn would have one secret weapon it would not discover until the moment of employment. Therefore, it needed the greatest flexibility in order to respond to whatever presented itself. To that end, it had sent several Lurker Assault-ships to the Inner Planets.

Those stealth missions neared their objectives. Mars was the first on the list. As the humans struggled in their chaotic manner, it would continue the war with unrelenting pressure.

One other thought gave it pause. The Prime wanted those scientists on Charon. Through a small lead, the tiniest tidbit of data, it now believed a critical human had escaped from Dominie Banbury’s service. If that key Homo sapien added his knowledge to the captured scientists, the breakthrough technology, the FTL drive, was all but assured.