Read Online The Immortal Game (Rook's Song) by Chad Huskins - Free Book Online Page A

it goes all the way to the core of your people.  It’s instinctual, in your DNA?”
    “ Affirmative, friend.”
    “So does that mean… when you just said compliance …?”
    Bishop holds his hands out, a gesture of conciliation.  “If I told you, would you believe me, knowing what you know now?”
    He thinks about it, then produces the only logical answer.  “No, I guess I wouldn’t.”
    “This is as it should be, Rook.  There is an old saying where I come from: ‘Trust no one.  Especially a friend.’”  The alien lets that hang in the air between them for a few seconds, then nods courteously and says, “I have a few more things to check on.”
    Rook watches him go, and now, passing into him, we know that he is already considering ejecting the alien from his ship.  Just shut off the cockpit, open the cargo bay doors, then all the doors in the ship, and eject his ass out into the void .  Bishop would survive, his body was built to endure in the vacuum of space, but he wouldn’t be troubling Rook any longer.
    Then, Rook considers how much the ship has benefited just by having the alien around.  Much of the upgrades are all Ianeth design, and his capacities as an engineer—and the fact that he needs only an hour of sleep each day—has put the Sidewinder in the best shape it’s been in since rolling off the assembly line.  And, though he is loath to admit it, there is also the company.  He and Bishop usually don’t talk overmuch, but they do share occasional conversations over chess games or whenever they meet over meals.
    Badger is gone, which means all of humanity is gone.  Rook is fighting a war with no positive outcome.  If he loses, mankind is wiped out.  If he wins, mankind is wiped out.  Nothing to live for, nothing to die for, nothing but the compulsion to move forward, to complete a task.  It was why he was selected to be a Sidewinder pilot, his ability to exist on his own and occupy his time with endless machinations.  I just never thought the job would be this lonely .  How could I?
    Rook takes a seat at the consol e, gauges the holographic chessboard, then looks back at the 3D image of Kali’s surface, still streaming in front of him.  He moves the image so that it looks like he’s flying over some of the volcanoes in the western hemisphere.  He glances at the giant floating sphere outside his window, then back at his chessboard.  Rook considers the fact that if he kicked the Ianeth off his ship now, he’d have to go back to playing the computer, which was almost as soulless an experience as playing the Turk.
    Rook smiles, thinking about the Turk.  It was a legendary story from Earth he first heard from his father.  A machine so sophisticated it defeated Napoleon Bonaparte himself at chess.  But then, the Turk had the advantage of…
    A stray notion, interrupting his train of thought.  It’s there one second, then gone the next.  Then it returns, sticks around for a second, and causes him a brief smile.  Then, a chime goes off, and the thought goes off in search of some other idea to attach itself to.  Rook looks down at his trouble-board.  Pycno mixtures need adjusting.  Again.  And now for the first time he is forced to consider if this is a real problem or one conjured up by Bishop.
    The Turk .
    The thought returns again.  Like many schemes, it forms on its own, a small irritant in the clam’s throat that eventually yields a pearl.
    Rook germinates on the thought a short while, then glances out his window, at the giant floating husk that might’ve been a powerful space station once if…
    Need to stay focused, need to go check on the pycno channelers , he thinks, standing from his seat and stepping out of the cockpit.  Gotta make sure the alien isn’t screwing with anything .  Walking down the hall, the thought from before never really leaves him.  It’s like a gnat buzzing all around his ear, and it needs swatting.
    The Turk