by Isaac Hooke
Why are we still communicating mentally? Will said. The AI would have already recorded Horatio talking with the veterans about the dome locations. Unless all communications were done mentally?
They were not, Horatio admitted. I tried mental communications at first, but the liquored-up veterans wouldn’t have it. I did take care to sit as far as possible from any monitoring devices as I was able, but the men probably carried such devices on their persons without knowing it… their AR goggles, for example. So Will is correct, the AI knows. If it, or the council, wants to stop us, they will.
She glanced at Will. “I suppose you’re right. We’ll talk more when you get back, Horatio.” She disconnected.
“Assuming we’re not arrested by the time he gets back…” Will said.
Rhea glanced at her overhead map. “I want to charter a shuttle this afternoon.”
“Can’t you just send a remote drone?” Will pleaded.
“There’s no way to control it that far,” Rhea said. “Not on this world.”
“That’s fine, program it on a standard exploratory route, and you can review the footage after it returns,” Will told her.
“That’s not going to cut it,” Rhea told him. “I want to be able to react to what I’m seeing and explore whatever piques my interest. I’m going to have to go myself, I’m afraid.”
“But why?” Will said. He switched to mental communications. You told me you triggered a memory when you were exploring Aradne by drone before. The same could happen here.
It’s certainly possible, she sent.
What if our assassin friend is still out there? Will transmitted. Watching from orbit? Waiting for the moment to strike?
Then I guess we’ll draw him out, Rhea sent.
This is a bad idea… Will replied.
She hesitated, and almost agreed to visit the site remotely. But then her resolved hardened. This was once my home. I need to see the ruins with my own eyes. Need to touch them with my gloved hands. Otherwise, I won’t have closure. It’s not something I can do remotely, via a drone. It can’t be something I relive on an augmented reality display. It has to be real.
Will sighed. You’re not going to back down on this, are you?
No, she said. And if I’m truly being tracked by an assassin, I’d rather encounter him now, at a time of my choosing, rather than his. If I go to the ruins and an assassin hunts me, he will show himself there. It’s the best place to attack—far from the colony, away from any semblance of law. Best of all he’ll believe his attack is a surprise, catching me completely off guard, but I’ll be ready. He won’t understand that I’m the one who has chosen the time and place.
Assuming he doesn’t decide to blast you with kinetic kills or other weapons from orbit, Will sent.
He’ll need to confirm the kill, Rhea said. Remember, we’ll be wearing spacesuits. From orbit, he won’t even be able to tell it’s us. He’ll have to get close.
Good point, Will admitted. But you say you’ll be ready… how prepared can you truly be, considering the location? Once he realizes our destination, he’ll drop from orbit and land directly inside the destroyed dome. Our shuttle probably won’t detect his craft, given its stealth capabilities. The ruins will give him numerous hiding places: he’ll be the one planning an ambush, not you.
He’ll still have to get close to see my face, Rhea said.
Not necessarily, Will told her. He could attack, kill all three of us, and then check your face after the fact. Something tells me he wouldn’t care if he accidentally killed the wrong targets.
While that’s true, at least I’ll have a chance of fighting back, Rhea told him. But if we leave without settling this, then my fate is entirely in the hands of a trader. An attack in the void of deep space is not something I want to repeat… I never felt so helpless as I did while aboard that ship, with the kinetic kills raining down all around us.
Wasn’t fun, Will agreed. He sat back, sighed, and gazed out the window at the baroque buildings beyond. I’ll do it. I still don’t like it, though.
Maybe no attack will come, Rhea sent. Maybe it was space pirates after all.
He glanced at her and smiled sadly. You don’t really believe that.
No. She glanced at the time and spoke aloud: “Well, we haven’t been arrested yet… if the council wanted to send security, the robots would have arrived by now.”
“Maybe they’re waiting for Horatio to come before they arrest us,” Will suggested.
Horatio arrived shortly thereafter. Security, however, remained absent.
“Guess the city doesn’t mind,” Rhea said.
“Apparently not,” Will agreed.
Rhea checked the schedules of the local charters and found several that would accept flights on short notice. Some even allowed “walk-ins.” She booked an appointment with one of the latter for half an hour from now, and then departed with Will and Horatio.
When they bounded into the space terminal, they found Peter waiting with two security robots.
“I know what you’re doing,” Peter said.
“You’ve come to stop us?” Rhea asked.
“Not at all,” Peter replied. “I’ve come to lend you a shuttle.”
“We’ve already booked with another charter company,” Rhea said.
“It’s been handled,” Peter said firmly.
Rhea glanced at Will and then shrugged. “All right. We’ll take your shuttle. How much do you want?”
“No cost,” Peter said. “Consider it a gesture of goodwill, on behalf of the Europan people. But I should warn you, if you return with any technology or weapons, such as more Ban’Shar, they will be confiscated. You ceded all rights to such tech when you signed our agreement. You are entitled to one set of Ban’Shar, and nothing else.”
“That’s fair,” Rhea said. “I’d like my Ban’Shar now, by the way. Along with all our other weapons.”
“Since you’re leaving the dome, you may collect the weapons you arrived with,” Peter said slowly. “However, since you’re not yet departing the moon entirely, I cannot allow you to take the Ban’Shar.”
“But the contract—” Rhea began.
Peter interrupted: “The provision in the contract specifically states you may have the Ban’Shar only when you board a transport headed off moon.”
She was assuming she’d have the Ban’Shar with her to face any assassins. But now she was having second thoughts…
No. I don’t need the Ban’Shar. The pistol and the X2-59 will be enough. I can do this. I will see these ruins. And if the assassin comes, I will destroy him.
She turned toward Peter and told him: “Very well.”
And so he bound-walked her to the kiosk of a charter company reserved for government officials.
“By the way, are you including suit rentals?” Will asked when they arrived.
“Of course,” Peter said.
“We’ll need the military grade ones,” Will said. “With the thin material around the hands.”
“Done,” Peter told him.
Rhea booked the flight path, and Peter approved it. After he departed, she and the others were given suit rentals, including Horatio—though the robot didn’t need the oxygen, the BNNTS built into the fabric of the suit protected Horatio’s delicate circuitry from the radiation that got past the damaged ring network.
As Will had requested, the suits were military grade; this meant that while they were generally bulky, the regions around the hands and wrists were thin, and essentially skintight, allowing them to wield their existing weaponry as if they weren’t wearing suits at all.
“You sure this was steam cleaned?” Will asked the robot assistant as he shrugged on his leg assembly. “Mine smells like FAN.”
“FAN?” the robot inquired.
“Feet, Ass, Nuts,” Will explained.
“I assure you, the suit has been thoroughly cleaned,” the robot said. “It meets all regulatory standards.”
“I’d like another, please,�
�� Will said, lowering the assembly.
“I’m terribly sorry, but I’m afraid that’s the only military grade suit available in your size,” the robot said.
Will wrinkled his nose. “Suppose there’s no such thing as a free lunch.” He shoved his legs deeper into the assembly.
Fully suited, Rhea, Will and Horatio hop-walked through a corridor to a launch bay. No customs clearance was necessary this time—perhaps because the charter company was dedicated to government officials.
In front of a small, diamond-shaped shuttle craft, two combat robots awaited, clad in spacesuits. They carried rifles strapped over the shoulders of their suits.
Rhea immediately called Peter and his hologram appeared in front of her. She shared the comm channel with Will and Horatio.
“What’s with the robots?” she asked.
“For your protection,” Peter explained.
She flashed him a fake smile. “You’re sure they’re protecting us and not guarding us?”
“A bit of both, perhaps,” Peter admitted.
She glanced at Will and transmitted mentally. They might actually prove useful, considering…
More firepower if any assassins show up, Will agreed.
She returned her attention to Peter. “Where are our weapons, by the way?”
“They’ve been stowed in the exterior baggage compartment of the shuttle,” Peter told her. “The baggage doors will unlock once you’ve landed at your destination.”
“All right,” she said. “But if we get there, and I find out you didn’t pack any of our weapons, I’m going to seize the rifles from your combat robots. Forcibly.”
“You will find your weapons,” Peter said coldly.
“What about my drone?” Will transmitted over the same channel. “I mean, I know it’s useless in the void, but I’d just like to know Giz is safe.”
“If by Giz, you mean your drone, it remains safely behind in the terminal’s monthly storage,” Peter sent.
“Good,” Will said.
Rhea disconnected the call and boarded the shuttle with her companions.
The two robots climbed aboard after them and took the seats across from the trio. Rhea looped the robots into the same comm channel she shared with Will and Horatio.
“Hello neighbors!” Will quipped.
The robots ignored him.
A few minutes later the shuttle took off.
“Well, here we go…” Will told her. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“So do I,” she sent.
8
Rhea looped the shuttle’s AI into the comm channel when they were under way.
“So,” Rhea told the AI after it joined. “Can I get access to the external cameras? I’d like to watch our approach.”
“I’m sorry, I’m not authorized to give you access to the external cameras,” the shuttle said.
“I thought we were supposed to be treated like foreign dignitaries,” Will said to no one in particular. “With all the amenities such a position entails!”
The shuttle didn’t respond.
“Guess not,” Will added.
“AI, are you able to detect if any ships or other shuttles are nearby?” she asked.
“Of course,” the shuttle replied. “Unless they are equipped with extreme stealth measures.”
“So, are there any?” she pressed.
“At the present moment no,” the AI told her.
“Not really reassuring,” Will commented.
She nodded and glanced at her HUD. “Looks like we just exceeded the signal range of the local Internet.”
“We’re on our own,” Will agreed.
“Not entirely,” the eavesdropping shuttle said. “I can still send and receive communications with Centaar. Simply not in realtime.”
“I’m assuming the lag time is only a few seconds,” Rhea said.
“That would be a correct assumption,” the shuttle replied.
She glanced at Will. “So at least if we come under attack, Centaar will know, and respond appropriately.”
“That makes me feel a little better,” Will transmitted. “But not much, considering what I deem an appropriate response likely differs from city council’s definition.”
“Are you expecting an attack?” the AI asked.
“I’m not sure what to expect anymore,” Rhea replied.
A few minutes later the shuttle touched down.
“Have you detected any other ships yet?” Rhea asked the shuttle.
“No,” it replied.
“If anything changes, let me know,” she sent.
“Assuming you remain within range, then of course,” the shuttle replied.
The shuttle’s ramp descended. She felt the vibrations pass through the deck when it touched the surface.
Rhea hopped down the ramp and emerged to find the vast, empty moonscape stretching before her. Light from the sun cast the frozen landscape in a dreary gray. The surface resembled videos of pack ice she had seen online: shelves of ice protruded from the crust at intervals, ranging in size from small crags to tall, sprawling ridges.
She could see the dots of the satellites composing the superconducting ring network ahead, forming a neat vertical stack that reached from the horizon to the top of the sky. She was keenly aware of the radiation leaking through that network: although the suits were made of BNNTS, it was generally recommended that spacewalks be limited to two hours or less to minimize exposure.
Moving off the ramp, she bound-walked to the external storage compartment, which clicked open as she arrived. As promised, their weapons awaited. Rhea sheathed her pistol into the holster at her utility belt and slid the X2-59 onto the skintight portion of the suit above her wrist. The latter weapon blended in quite well with her suit, concealing it from any watchers from afar.
Will grabbed his pistol. Horatio didn’t have an exposed weapon, as the robot’s rifles were built into its forearms, and thus covered by the spacesuit. Rifles dangling innocuously from their shoulders, the other two robots kept watch on opposite sides of the shuttle.
Rhea started to bound past the craft’s right flank when Will stopped her. “I’ll go first.”
He drew his pistol and was about to take the lead, but then Rhea had a go at interrupting him.
“Wait,” she sent, muting the shuttle AI and the accompanying combat robots, so that only Will and Horatio heard her next words. “Consider the optics. If we’re archeologists or public officials who’ve arrived to explore the ruins, would we really act like we’re expecting an ambush? If assassins are out there, we want them to believe we don’t know they’re watching. That means we leave our weapons sheathed.” She glanced at the combat robots. “Or hanging from our shoulders.”
Will hesitated. “Wouldn’t it be possible that pirates might be salvaging among the rubble? That would be excuse enough to be on guard.”
“I somehow doubt the Europans would allow pirates into their space,” Rhea said.
“And yet they allow assassins…” Will said.
Even so, he nodded behind his faceplate, then shoved the pistol back into place at his hips. He rounded the bend.
“It’s clear,” he transmitted a moment later.
Rhea was about to follow. Then:
“Before we proceed,” Horatio said on the same channel, still excluding the other robots. “I noticed you muted our two escorts before raising the possibility of potential assassins. Maybe we should loop them in? They can only help us.”
“I don’t completely trust them,” Rhea said. “They could be assassins themselves, as far as I’m concerned. Keep an eye on them.”
Without a word more, she, too, bounded past the shuttle. The ruins of the Ganymedean colony came into view.
Towers emerged from beyond the jagged edges of a partially collapsed geodesic dome. Translucent panes of glass, frosted over, covered the intact portions of the broken dome.
The skyscrapers within were covered in a thin layer of snow. Many o
f them were splintered, terminating in ragged, uneven edges, with rubble lying in heaps at their bases. The rest mostly stood with their windows shattered, like hollowed out husks against the starry sky.
She was filled with a sudden, intense sadness, and a loneliness like nothing she had ever felt.
Once this had been a great city. Filled with Ganymedeans. Now it was gone, and she was alone, utterly so…
No. I still have Will and Horatio. My friends.
She bounded forward, following Will, who set the pace. First foot forward. Second foot forward. One, two. One, two. Her breathing was loud in her ears, and the faceplate fogged slightly with each exhale, but the anti-fogging tech dissipated the white smudges quickly.
The helmet limited her field of view, cutting off her peripheral vision. She could see Will ahead, and a quick glance at her overhead map confirmed that the two combat robots followed her, with Horatio bringing up the rear.
She considered ordering the latter robots to the fore to act as scouts, but once again decided the optics would be better if they remained where they were.
We’re just a group of archeologists, exploring what we think are vacant ruins.
Still, she didn’t really like having them behind her, where she couldn’t see them. She’d have to trust that Horatio would watch her back.
They circumnavigated the larger crags of ice that interrupted the surface ahead and gave a ridge a wide berth. Rhea studied the top of that ridge, searching for snipers, but spotted no one.
They approached a jagged hole in the base of the dome and bounded through. At the moon’s prime, the fully functional ring network would have been enough to deflect most of Jupiter’s radiation, allowing the Ganymedeans to line their geodesic dome with specialized glass to handle the rest. Rhea couldn’t help the awe she felt when she gazed at those frosted panes overhead. The glass would have been completely translucent before the dome was punctured, kept defrosted by a variant of the technology that maintained her faceplate, allowing the citizens to gaze out upon the naked sky.
If only I had been around to see it…