Gabi: Warrior Women of the League, #5

By Jo Carey and Frank Carey

Can a reluctant negotiator free the hostages of an immortal monster?

Gabi, the immortal Goddess of Law known as Ma'at in ancient Egypt, has traded the scales of justice for an archaeologist's spade. When fate casts Gabi in the role of negotiator, will her past failure stop her from freeing the hostages?

With help from an immortal assault team which includes her father, a sentient race of amphibians, and Njord, the Norse God of the Sea and Winds, she faces Typhon in a battle for the future of Old Olympia.

Gabi is the fifth book in an exciting science fiction adventure series featuring the Warrior Women of the League. Gabi is one of the Immortal Ladies Sagas which feature strong female characters and some real twists on the legends of mythology. 166 pages.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jo Carey
• Release date: Apr 26, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386581246

Jo Carey

Jo Carey grew up in the Midwest but her curiosity and gypsy-spirit has kept her on the move. She's lived in eight US states and spent three years living in Ireland. She has always loved creature movies, so creatures and bugs often show up in her books. Jo, a former information security compliance guru, writes fast-paced, character-driven stories in a variety of genres from medical thrillers to space operas and cozy mysteries. Her novels are filled with humor, romance, and sometimes creatures or aliens, or maybe even all of the above. She often builds her stories around a strong female lead character surrounded by plenty of hunky male heroes. Jo's been under fire on a golf course and climbed out the roof of an elevator in the Netherlands. Life hasn't been boring. Now residing in Texas, setting often plays a huge role in her stories. Jo was intrigued by the League of Planetary Systems, a world her husband, Frank, created for his science fiction books, and she now writes mysteries and other types of tales sets in that world. Jo was bitten by a cat, a fire ant, and a snake, before succumbing to the bite of the writing bug.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

Some would consider Old Olympia to be a living thing, for every square millimeter of its surface was covered with hybrid animal-plant life—oceans, deserts, plains, even the poles—all covered.

The capital city of the planet was the only exception. A short time ago, a League drop-node ship had exploded near the city, leaving a mile-wide bare spot which was quickly filling in, but still empty in the center. Nearby was a crater, all that was left of a vast research complex that was destroyed during a rescue mission.

Standing at the center of the crater was a being. His name was Typhon, and he was once an immortal, a painter whose canvas was the genome of the living. Now, he was a monster, an amalgam of plant and animal. He stood there for a moment, quiet, contemplative, before raising his fists to the sky and declaring vengeance on those who tried to kill him. His anger sated for the moment, he returned to his underground lair to wait for his foes' return, leaving behind a beacon to draw them into his trap.

XXX

In orbit around the planet, a lone probe-sat kept watch running periodic surveys of the surface and the surrounding space as it had done for the last three years. Unlike the countless previous scans, it had already performed, this one picked up an anomaly—a distress beacon. As it was programmed to do, the probe-sat immediately dispatched a hypercomm report containing the signal it had received and all data collected over the previous 48 hours. Finished, it returned to its normal routine.

XXX

Alarms sounded in the Old Olympia Project Control Room. As the skeleton crew decrypted the data and sent it off to various departments, members of the day shift took their positions at their posts. Minutes after the first alarm, Cube Director Ciara Devlin strode in with Bob, the leader of the immortals and head of Cube Computing Services, close behind.

Report! she ordered.

The probe-sat picked up a distress signal in the capital city, specifically near the destroyed research center.

IFF?

Unknown identify friend or foe signature, possibly alien in origin. We're running translation routines, but so far, we've drawn a blank.

Let me take a look, Bob said while closing his eyes. He shook his head, It looks vaguely familiar, but I can't put my finger on it.

You're sure it's a distress signal? Ciara asked.

Computers have flagged it as such, ma'am, the mission director said.

Bob? Ciara asked for confirmation.

I agree, it fits all known distress patterns.

Great, just great, Ciara said while thinking about what needed to be done next. Does the probe-sat have a mobile?

Yes, ma'am, the flight director replied.

Can you program it to only report back if we manually connect to it?

Yes, ma'am.

Bob, I want one of our cybercop teams to watch the data stream from the probe just in case something or someone tries to make it through the firewalls.

Yes, director, Bob replied. He tapped his earpiece and made arrangements for a team of cybernetic specialists—cybercops—to place their consciousnesses into the net to monitor the network for breaches of the Cube's ultra-secure computer network. They're ready, Director.

That was quick

They're in the middle of a training exercise, so they just paused the routine and took positions around the probesat's input port.

Luck is on our side. Good. Flight Director send down the mobile.

Aye, Director. You heard the lady! Send drop command, then set communications to standby. We'll check back in an hour. Land the node containing the mobile one mile outside of city perimeter on my mark. Mark!

Command sent, sir. Drop initiated...

Now we wait, Bob said as the master chrono ticked down the seconds.

XXX

The mobile left the landing site even before the dust raised by its landing had settled, its eight tires chewing up the distance. When it reached the outer edge of the city, the mobile slowed as the road became cluttered with plant growth and debris, stopping just outside the remains of the research complex near the center of the city. It was there that Bob had fought the immortal Typhon in a battle that almost led to Bob's death. Lucky for Bob that his two friends, Artemis and Bellerophon, along with their trickster pug Cerberus, had been there to rescue him. As programmed, the mobile initiated a spherical scan of the area out to a radius of three miles. Finished, it went into standby mode to wait for instructions from flight control. Nearby, an alien ship of unfamiliar design sat lifeless on the scorched ground.

CHAPTER TWO

Ciara watched the view screens as the data streams were received, analyzed, then displayed. Yep, that is really alien, she said as the image of the unknown ship formed. Life signs?

None inside the ship or above ground within scan radius, the flight director replied.

Below ground?

Indeterminate.

Excuse me?

There is too much life below ground. The life form sensors are overloading. We are getting some readings which could indicate alien life forms.

Ciara looked at Bob. It was rather overgrown the last time I visited, he said with a shrug.

OK, Olympia is a member of the League, which means the old homestead comes under the heading of 'our mess to clean up.' I told the council to put warning buoys in orbit, but they didn't think it was necessary. Well, I guess they were wrong!

Sarcasm does not become you, Director, Bob mentioned.

Are all immortals as funny as you?

No. I'm just blessed.

Suggestions?

Ratbots. There are five stored in the mobile, Bob informed her.

Send them down there? What if he's down there? Ciara asked.

Typhon? He dislikes rats more than he dislikes me.

So, you think he's still alive?

I do, so he must be. That is the way of the universe.

Ciara chewed her lip. Fine, send them in.

Bob nodded, then closed his eyes for a moment. Command sent. They will enter the facility and perform a standard search out to one mile from entry point before returning to the mobile.

Full-time data link?

Of course. My cybercop team is still standing by.

Good. I'd hate to have to have the network scrubbed down after this exercise. When is the next data dump?

Bob looked up at the room's master chrono display. 53 minutes.

So, once more we wait.

XXX

The mobile's rear equipment bay opened, disgorging five late-model ratbots so authentic they would fool an amorous male rat into mating with them. Upon hitting the ground, they scurried off, using radar and sensors to find entry into the underground labyrinth beneath their little, hairless feet. In moments, one of the robots found a tunnel leading down into the darkness below. Signaling the others, it headed into the darkness, guided by infrared sensors and sonar.

The five bots made their way to a level undamaged by the blasts of the starfire grenades thrown by Artemis and Bellerophon when they were rescuing Bob three years earlier. Instead, the corridor was a softly lit tube of lush plant life. Per standard search and rescue protocols, the five bots spread out at staggered intervals to find any survivors that may have made their way down to this level.

As the bots searched, they cataloged any plant or animal life they encountered. They did this by collecting visual, infrared, and scanner data, recording it into an internal database which was uploaded to the mobile, then the node, and finally to the probe at regular intervals.

Five minutes before the next data transfer was to occur, bot four came upon an unfamiliar heat signature, one that was pure animal in nature, something very unusual for the environment they were in. The probe traced the signal to a locked room about a mile in from the entry point. Using its tail laser, it cut through the locking mechanism in short order. As the door swung open, the bot made its way into the room where it found a dozen quadrupedal life forms with humanoid torsos mounted on four-legged undercarriages, each undercarriage being square in shape with a muscular leg at each vertex. The beings started speaking in a language reminiscent of that spoken by Earth's dolphins.

After calling its companions, the bot attempted to communicate using its limited universal translator, but before it could continue, a large creature burst in, grabbed it, then crushed it in a tentacled-covered hand. Luckily, the bot had been able to burst-transmit the contents of its data banks before being destroyed.

Still following protocol, the remaining four bots burst-transmitted their data before concealing themselves in the undergrowth. Once safely ensconced in plant life, the four went into standby mode, waiting for further orders from Flight. Similarly, the node and mobile both went into stealth mode to prevent detection.

XXX

Alarms returned to flight control. What is it? Ciara demanded.

A bot was destroyed, ma'am?

Where?

A map of the area came up on the room's main view screen. A blue dot and a red dot appeared. Four green dots were distributed around the blue dot. Green dots are the still-active bots, the blue is the dead one, and the red dot is the mobile. The five rats are about a mile from the red one and appear to be about a hundred feet below it.

Data?

The flight director nodded toward a screen to the left of the main viewer. As they watched, the rat entered the room and tried to strike up a conversation with the aliens. Suddenly, something grabbed the bot and turned it. A monstrosity appeared just as the bot stopped functioning.

Did we get a translation?

Aye, ma'am. The language is a form of dolphinese.

Send recordings to linguistics and the diplomatic section. Flag it ultra-urgent. Fast forward to just before the bot's destruction.

The image shifted to show the thing that destroyed the bot. Hello, Typhon, Bob said. You look surprisingly unscathed.

So, that's your pal. It seems he found some new friends, Ciara noted.

Not quite, a tall elf, in a one-piece suit with diplomatic corps patches on its arms, strode in. On the left breast was a nametag—Irithyl."

Lucien, Ciara said as she hurried over and hugged him. She and the ambassador had known each other since the days when he was a smuggler named Harmon Aymar. Now, he was Prince Lucien Irithyl, Ventosian Ambassador at Large.

Bob walked over and shook Lucien's hand. Good to see you, the king of the immortals said. He and Lucien went back to the days when Harmon Aymar built the immortal his supercomputer man cave. What did you find out?"

They call themselves the Flack, and they're scared out of their minds. They begged the ratbot for help. Linguistics thinks that we’re looking at a mixed group of adults and young.

Ciara looked around the room. Suggestions?

I can have an immortal assault team on deck in twenty minutes, Bob said as his backup lightning bolt—his primary was destroyed in his last battle with Typhon—appeared in his hand. Let me kill that thing once and for all.

Ciara smiled. Bob, how about we keep that as our backup plan for now. Lucien?

No, he's right, we need to send in a team to subdue Typhon and rescue the aliens.

She gave him the classic Have you gone mad? look. You're agreeing with him? You want me to send in an attack force?

Sort of. This has become a hostage situation, so we need an assault team on standby in case we have to storm the place, and Bob's immortals can get to Old Olympia as fast as hyperphotons can carry them. First, though, we need to try to negotiate for the hostage's release.

Have you been watching those old cop movies? Ciara asked.

Not recently, but this is standard operating procedure in cases like this. Anyway, we should give the remaining ratbots time to scope out Typhon's facility.

OK. Bob, any immortal negotiators we can send over the hypercomm channels?

"Unfortunately, negotiation