“How?” the Sergeant asked. “We’re holding relative position to Station Nineteen, the electromagnetic pulse took them out as far as we can tell. We need you back up on the bridge.”
“I outrank you, soldier,” Toby said.
“We all do,” Skylar said. “You and your men will come with us down to the planet.”
A read on the man’s name finally appeared on Gavin’s goggle display. “Sergeant Ferrier, please understand that we’re all on the same mission. We’ve dealt a serious blow to our enemy here, one that could take them weeks to recover from. The ship is being overrun, your people in the core are probably already dead.”
“Now we need to go down to the planet so a message can be sent to our people using faster than light transmission technology. Another fleet will be sent. They will finish the work here while we pursue the technology that we came for. This mission is not over, great things can still be accomplished.”
The thick bulkhead door down the hall started to turn red along the edges, and the sound of an impact from the other side thundered. “My orders are to hold this level of the ship.”
Vivien and Toby moved past the Sergeant. Vivien knelt down and ran her hand along a nearly invisible seam, activating an emergency panel. “We’re leaving,” Skylar said.
“You could come with us and be helpful. There’s room for all seven of you,” Gavin said.
“Or you die here,” Skylar added. “Oh, and if you want to slow that down, project your personal shields from the muzzle of your weapons together, so you can create a shield wall long enough to put some distance between you and the machines.”
Another heavy pound against the door resounded through the hallway, the thick metal moved a few centimetres. The machines were through, it would only be another minute or two before the door fell down and they were overrun.
Sergeant Ferrier thought for three seconds then nodded at Skylar. “Lead the way, boss.”
A two-centimetre-thick hatch opened in the floor. Toby dropped inside right away as Vivien helped everyone else down. A bash at the door and the loudest clang Gavin ever heard sounded as he dropped through the hatch into the shuttle. The pair of marines who were still in the hallway above opened fire along with Vivien, who took careful shots with her sidearm. A red-hot, long spike speared through one marine while a five-fingered claw grasped the other. Vivien fired one more time and stepped over the hatch, was starting to drop when a spike was driven through her from behind.
Her eyes darted between everyone just beneath her in the shuttle; “Help me,” she said the instant before the spike split into five and tore in different directions. Her legs fell through the hatch, inside the shuttle and onto Toby.
Skylar closed the hatch and Gavin dropped into the co-pilot’s seat. The ship was already warming up. The sounds of scraping on the hatch behind and above them filled the cabin. “Strap in, there’s no time for the dampeners to come online,” Gavin announced.
“We’re launching early, then?” Skylar asked, hurriedly going through the systems check.
“Early is good,” Ferrier said as he strapped into the seat behind them.
“Then early it is,” Gavin was pushed back into his seat, and he heard a few protests, as well as some clattering in the cabin behind him.
They were a kilometre away from the Queen’s Pride in a few seconds, and Skylar increased their thrusters as the dampeners finally came online. Gavin performed a scan of their surroundings and shuddered at the condition of the Queen’s Pride. The rear dorsal weapons array was active somehow, and thirty heavy antimatter pulse guns fired a storm of light at anything in range, turning smaller ships into slag. Three of the guns turned in their direction and began to fire at anything nearby. They weren’t the only ones in lifeboats. Several of them were heading for the planet.
“Man, I guess you were right,” Ferrier said, looking over his shoulder at the scan results. “The Queen’s Pride is drifting right into Station Nineteen, and there’s nothing anyone can do.”
“It’s slow,” Gavin said, looking at several destroyer sized robot ships that were holding behind cover several kilometres away. “Something could still stop it, don’t count it as a victory yet.”
“I’ve gotta have some hope.”
“Sarge,” one of the soldiers behind them said, a warning in his tone. “This guy's not holding together.”
A drone fighter appeared on Gavin’s warning system and he set the shuttle’s countermeasures on it, sending a barrage of small rounds packed with high-explosives towards it, blasting it to shreds. “They’re not following us in.”
“Guys,” Ferrier said, unbuckling his belt, turning towards the rear of the shuttle. “Hey, it’s all right. It’s going to be okay.”
“She was everything,” Toby wept. “I just stood there and watched, and they, and they…”
Gavin looked over his shoulder in time to see Toby put the barrel of his gun in his mouth. “Toby! Stop!”
Toby looked at him, shaking with grief, closed his eyes and pulled the trigger. There was a loud hiss, a pressure alarm whistled loudly. The round went through the top of Toby’s head and penetrated the thick hatch above him. “Patch kit, right there!” Gavin pointed at a box at the back of the shuttle beside the door.
“Where?” a soldier asked while everyone else stared in shock.
“Look! Beside the door, right where I’m pointing!”
The soldier looked at him then back to the door and found it right away. She got a boost from Ferrier, pulled the backing off of an emergency epoxy mesh patch and let the suction pull it into place.
A wave of fighters rushed past the ship, and Gavin scanned the area. “Ground cannons are firing to cover that new group of fighters. I see two people inside each, but they're not ours. That's a group of twenty-one of them with heavy shielding, high power ratings.”
“They might by Issyrian,” Ferrier said from where he held his comrade up while she checked the patch.
"No, definitely not. They don't match anything in the database and they each have two humans aboard." Several rounds struck their shuttle from behind, but their shields held.
“That’s going to be a problem,” Skylar said, looking through several navigational patterns and the data she needed to make re-entry without burning up.
“This is Lieutenant Gavin Oflux to whoever is firing on us from the planet. We intend no harm. Our ship was under siege, so we had to escape. We have our own supplies and equipment. We will not be a burden on you, we only need to land long enough to send a message to our people so they can rescue us. Please cover our approach if possible.”
Several rounds struck a shuttle to their port side, getting through their shields, damaging the hull plating on their aft side.
“Do you have our pursuers on scans, or are they ducking behind wreckage?” Skylar asked.
“I'm marking several of them, but the fighters from the ground are taking them out fast. They're moving towards the Queen's Pride, fighting their way there.” Another wave of fighters passed around them, attacking their pursuers and drawing most of them off as they moved on.
“Gavin Oflux,” said a voice through their communicator. “We are giving you leave to land at the coordinates we are sending you. You have three minutes and fifty seconds. Our planetary shield will be closing. The escape vessels with you are being given similar instructions. Do not deviate from the course you are assigned or you will be destroyed. Be aware: synthetics have priority.”
“Acknowledged,” Gavin replied. He made sure Skylar had the course on her navigational console then added. “Thank you for safe harbour.”
“Nice, it looks like our luck is turning,” Ferrier said.
“Never count your blessings until you’re on friendly ground,” said Skylar.
Nine
The cubicles were holographic. A digital ball bounced in front of Spin's feet, leading her through corridors of walls that appeared and disappeared until she reached her destination. A door par
ted silently so she could see a man behind a desk who looked through a window that showed her ship docked at the station above. It still looked new, especially with the lighting they had on it, whether it was real light, or a digitally added effect, she couldn’t know, and it didn’t matter anyway.
“The chair isn’t a hologram, have a seat,” the greying British Alliance Sergeant said. “This was the Alliance’s solution to the space and manpower problem,” he said, gesturing all around him. “Everything was handled by artificial intelligence, so we didn’t need all this space. Now that humans and grey matter power everything again, they couldn’t figure out how to arrange all us intake officers efficiently, so we have artificial walls.” He leaned forward nodded. “I’m Sergeant Graham Toller. Let’s get started.”
Over the next half hour, they went into every detail about what the ship she had was capable of, ran through a basic version of how she became captain, and what kind of work she was looking to do. He didn’t care that most of her money was stolen or ill-gotten, in fact, when it looked like those details were about to come up, he simply asked; “Did it happen here?” then he’d answer his own question by quickly concluding; “If not, then that’s your business. Let’s move on, please.”
When the issue of her being a doll came up, he nodded, smiled and said; “That’s nice,” and tried to continue on to the topic of her crew.
“I don’t have long to live,” she interjected. “Months. It’s genetic programming,” she said.
For the first time, sorrow creased his brow. “You’re not the first I’ve seen,” he sighed. “If you can agree that your crew are answering their intake questions honestly, then we can move on to that.”
“I’ll make sure,” she sent a text message to everyone. ‘JUST TELL THEM EVERYTHING THEY ASK ABOUT, AND DON’T VOLUNTEER EXTRA INFORMATION.’
Sergeant Toller sat down, gesturing at the desk between them so it disappeared. The only non-holographic things in the room, including the walls and ceiling, were the chairs they sat on. “I’m sorry to hear about your problem. This is grim, but who will you be leaving your ship to in the event of your passing?”
“Mirra, she’s a crewmember,” Spin answered without hesitation.
“I see her here. She doesn’t seem to have the experience to captain a ship like that, but I’m not here to contest your decisions. I request that you file a last will and testament on your way out of the system. You can leave the qualification tickets I’ve assigned your ship to the new captain. That includes your passenger, cargo and defence operation tickets. They’ll be able to legally perform all those trades.”
“Thank you,” Spin said. “I’m wondering if there’s something you can do to help me find one of the researchers or genetic coders who worked in the Geist system when I was made.” It was difficult for Spin to play the responsible captain, which she was doing with surprising confidence, and the vulnerable refugee doll at the same time. She watched Toller struggle with her question a little. This was a conversation he’d had before.
For all she knew, a hundred dolls and synthetic persons had come through trying to get information using every tactic she could imagine. Perhaps honesty, earnestness was the best option. “I want to know if I can have a normal life span,” she said more quietly, feeling a well of emotion surge. “I’m happy we’ll get to be free here, but I’d like to live long enough to be of some use.”
“I understand,” he said. “Dolls are different here, you have to understand. In some ways you’re in the right place. The British Alliance allows the creation of dolls that are fully sentient, like you, in cases where people are going to be in extended isolation or are replacing a lost loved one. My colleague three cubicles over has a daughter who is twenty-nine years old. She serves in the military, and she’s not much different from you. We have developers and programmers who still work on them. I could send you there.”
“Did any of them work in the Geist System?”
“It’s the same craft, but not the same attitude or purpose, so no. Geist is a haven for our enemies, where they develop technology in secret and build, well, dolls sold into slavery. I’m not going to lie to you or hoist the British flag higher than it deserves to be: we still make dolls who live up to the name. They’re synthetics that don’t have the intelligence or the sentient will to be free. They’re a servant class for the rich, but more like simple organic androids.”
Spin had met several of them in her lifetime. There really was nothing to them – just expensive showpieces that could cook, clean, and perform simple tasks – having a conversation with them was like talking to an incomplete being. It would be sad if the being wasn’t perfectly happy serving. She didn’t approve of them, androids were the better choice, but they weren’t like her. They barely had a concept of time and sensations of pain were more of an awareness rather than something that could cause suffering. “I know them, I don’t take offense. The synthetic industry is too big to prevent the development of a product.”
“That’s an evolved way to look at it, I suppose. Anyway, I can send you to Beta Bio, the largest research and development lab in the sector. The British Alliance has partnerships with a few corporations there. One of them does have a recent hire from the Geist System, too. They’ll talk to you if I tell them you’re coming, and if you give me permission to send a scan of you to them. They’ll want to perform a deep scan so they can compare it to what they’re doing. I’m sure they don’t get many people like you from Geist while they’re in their prime. In trade, I’m sure they’ll tell you everything they know so you can make the right decisions for yourself going forward.”
“Thank you, it’s a good start,” Spin said, sending him the scan she had taken shortly after she came out of necro-stasis.
He pulled slips of plastic from his pocket. “These are passes for our military wormhole generators. They’ll get you where you’re going faster than the drive on your ship. These are hard to come by, but I think your circumstances warrant a little accelerated transportation. It’s my allotment for the week, I can only give out three.”
“Thank you,” she said, accepting them. “Is everything all right?” Spin asked, recognizing that there was a note of desperation in him.
“I’m all right. I only wonder; if you manage to live the rest of your life in our territory, how much will you improve things? Every industry we have – transportation, shipping, defence, manufacturing and everything else – are either just finding their feet or stretched thin. We need people like you with ships like yours. You could have a very promising future. Good luck, truly, I wish you the best.”
“Thank you,” Spin said, shaking his hand. Her arm computer beeped at her and looked through the transparent panel of her suit. The coordinates of the Beta Bio facility had been sent to her along with the idents of several British Intake Officers, including that of Sergeant Graham Toller.
Ten
The structures looping up from the ocean were shaped like someone froze magnetic currents. Shimmering blue, green white and red loops were ninety stories high and higher, but the windows were darkened. Landing bays that were at least large enough for three of their shuttles to land side by side were hollow holes, not showing any sign of life or activity other than the birds that nested there.
“These are advanced Issyrian dwellings,” Skylar said, looking with interest. “Only a few humans have seen this, and they’re not abandoned lightly. Every one of these structures comes from a massive clutch habitat under water.”
“What does it say when they’re empty like this?” Ferrier asked quietly.
Gavin watched Skylar, she was looking through the transparent section of hull and counting. That was only the tip of the iceberg for what was going on in her head, he was sure. There were other calculations going on. Vast knowledge she had from studying xenobiology while he focused on starship construction and xenotechnology. They earned their places in the scanning department of the Queen’s Pride.
Skylar shook her h
ead then turned her attention to a knot of white towers, all looping loosely between each other. “What is it?” Gavin asked.
“Look at those shadows.” She said, tapping the passive scanner readout with her little finger. She wanted Ferrier to look at the shapes in the water, dark and bulbous, while Gavin looked at the scan results.
There was very little life in those under water clutches. Most of the signs were around them, and none of it was Issyrian. The shuttle passed over a shoreline, they were about to land inside a large spaceport shaped like a fan of shells. “What are we looking at?” Ferrier asked. “What do you think the situation is here?”
“Holy shit! Look at that!” shouted an alarmed soldier near the rear of the shuttle. A ship that was shaped like a stingray with a one-kilometre wingspan was appearing low in the sky. Its three hangars were opening as fighters launched from points along the bottom of the hull. Its skin was pearlescent, dark and shifting with the light.
“That is not an Issyrian ship. Not even by a stretch,” Skylar said. “Whoever runs this part of the planet are not the original occupants.”
“You’re sure?” Ferrier asked.
The shuttle set down and the power systems shut down. Gavin checked to see if he could turn the computer system back on and got nothing as he tapped the corner of the display then tried the hardware switch under the console. “We might be in a power collector net,” he said. “No response at all from the computer, not even from residual charge in the system. Something’s drained us.”
“Are you sure there are no Issyrians here?” Ferrier pressed.
“No, there could be Issyrians,” Skylar answered. “But they’re not living where or how they’re supposed to be living, and that ship is definitely not Issyrian.”
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