Into the Green

by J. L. Curtis

  “Here.” Scanning her datacomp, she looked up in surprise, “This is it? This is all there is?”

  The mousy clerk said fussily, “I don’t know what it is, I was told to come up here and get a signature. This has been in our warehouse for over a year.”

  Klang twittered, “Problem there is? Klang fix?”

  Nicole sighed, “I don’t know Klang, this is supposed to be a complete one cavity blow molder. I don’t see how…”

  “See the manifest, may I?”

  Nicole handed him her datacomp and he punched a couple of queries in, then handed it back, “Complete it is. Compact it is. Assembly onsite is required. External power/heat source is required.”

  “Thank you, Klang, I’ll worry about external power and heat when I get it home.”

  Fargo and Nicole took off their weapons and handed them to Klang, who nodded distractedly and waved them toward the boarding tube.

  Once aboard, the AI welcomed them, directing them to the same staterooms they’d occupied on the way out. Fargo dumped his gear and headed for the crew lounge, dialed a coffee and flopped down in a chair. What a trip… Sold the furs and hides, and I think I’ve got a line going forward for more. Three million credits! Deity be thanked, I can have the GalScouts take the value of the other furs, and I still have almost a million credits to… What the hell do I do with them? I bought three pounds of Kenyan coffee, and some gifts for Mikhail, Luann and the kids, but…

  Nicole came in ordered her concoction and came over, he waved her to a chair and asked, “I’ve got to know, what the hell is a one cavity blow molder?”

  Laughing, she replied, “In simple terms, it makes bottles. You tell it what kind and it automatically blows the glass to the specifications. This one can apparently make fifteen hundred bottles an hour, assuming I get power and heat to it, along with the sand, sodium carbonate, calcium carbonate and…”

  Fargo held up his hands in surrender, “I give, I give! I know those elements, and what goes into glass, but didn’t you already have something to make bottles?”

  Nicole slumped in her chair, and said softly, “No, the one at the winery had problems and melted down about a year ago. Those were the last bottles I had. Everything else was in the booze balls, since that was the only production capability I had. If I hadn’t sold that wine, I’d be out of business other than for local production.”

  The IC blared, “All hands, cargo and boarding locks sealed, secure all loose equipment, prep for space. Engineering, fifteen minute warning. Launch crew fifteen minute warning. Drop tube and disconnect three zero minutes. Passengers, please make your way to the passenger lounge deck five, compartment five for safety brief, and procedures.”

  Fargo and Nicole quickly finished their bulbs, and headed down to the passenger lounge.

  ***

  Five days out, Fargo finally caught Captain Jace in the crew lounge with no one else around, early one morning ship time, “Captain, can I ask you a question?”

  Jace turned, “Sure, ask away.”

  “How did you manage to have de Perez Corporation buy Nicole’s wine?”

  Jace smiled, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I just called a couple of contacts, what they did…”

  “Come on, Captain. That was just a little too convenient. She goes from low ball offers, to suddenly the largest corporation in galactic space buying an entire run of wine from a little Rimworld winery for a thousand credits a bottle?”

  Jace shrugged as Fargo continued, “Too many things aren’t adding up. Your ship just happened to be going my way when I retired, and you’re still hanging around the cluster now almost a year later. You act like a merchant until…”

  Jace rose, “Come with me. This discussion needs to take place elsewhere.”

  He led Fargo up and forward, stopping in front of what appeared to be a blank wall. Looking both ways. He waved his hand, a portion of the wall dilated and he motioned Fargo through, sealing the wall behind him. Fargo looked around curiously, seeing what appeared to be some kind of computer systems running at unmanned consoles. The main screen showed what seemed to be space from some aspect of the ship. “Sit.” Fargo sat at what appeared to be a supervisor’s console as the captain paced the room.

  Jace turned to him, “May I be blunt? Lieutenant Fargo, you are, in fact, not retired. You know that and I know that. This compartment is totally secure, your data and wrist comps are currently offline. The following is Star Level Three. Do you understand the penalty for dissemination of anything you are about to be briefed on?”

  Fargo replied, “I do. But how?”

  Jace held up a hand, “In due time. First, this is a private merchant vessel. However, there are a number of additional capabilities that are not apparent. Have you ever heard the term RIG ships?”

  Fargo nodded, “Remote Intel Gather ship. One of the ways we used to get some possible planets to investigate.”

  “This is one of those. Additionally, as you know, this ship has offensive and defensive weapons.”

  Fargo nodded, “I saw…”

  “What you do not know is that this ship is fully autonomous. My name is Jace. That actually stands for Joint Autonomous Controller Element, and I am a self-aware system. I and all the crew are simulacrums. This ship is actually a test mule, developed by Roberto de Perez to test new attack shuttle technology, including autonomous and self-aware control functions, in order to give faster responses in combat situations.”

  “But, self-aware combat systems were outlawed…”

  “Yes they were, but my particular death was, shall we say, not all it seemed. My molycirc core was actually destroyed in front of witnesses over twenty years ago, and this ship was sent to the breakers yard.”

  “What?”

  “Roberto was kind enough to allow me to migrate myself to the de Perez mainframe on Altair Four. The breakers yard is owned by a de Perez subsidiary, and the data plate and beacon were swapped to another hull in the yard.”

  “But that’s…”

  “Illegal, yes.” Jace continued, “Once a new data plate and beacon were installed, a new set of molycircs were added, I migrated myself back across while we were upgrading the systems on this ship. And, I left a set of core functions of myself on the system in Altair.”

  Fargo leaned forward, “Why are you telling me this?”

  Jace leaned back against a console, “Because you are now one of my, our charges. And defacto the captain of the ship as a living breathing human.”

  “What do you mean charges? Who authori… Captain?”

  “Roberto de Perez, or as you knew him, Roberto Diez. We provided a conduit for him to get materials and data back and forth to Altair Four for over twenty years. We are thirty years old. If you don’t believe me, put your hands on the arms of that command chair. Your implants will access the ship’s system, and you can see for yourself. By the way, that was why I called you captain when I called for you to come to the bridge. That and the fact that you are a former Marine captain, so I was sure there would be a Pavlovian reaction that would carry you to the bridge without thought.”

  Fargo gingerly placed his hands on the arms of the chair, fitting them into the palm prints that backlit softly. He felt the same tingle he felt in armor and the snap as his mind connected to the ship’s AI. Looking up at the captain, he asked, “Uh, how do I display…”

  Jace looked around, “Command display fourteen one.”

  “Okay, command display, fourteen one.” The wall display changed, and Fargo commanded the ship’s history through his link. Page after page, drawings, contracts, and holos flipped quickly across the screen. One caught Fargo’s attention, and he backed up to it. It was the newest generation attack shuttle, but as he watched, it shed its guns, elongated by a two hundred feet, rolled and had what looked like additional tractors added to the bottom of the hull. The combat tank slots on the top of the hull didn’t so much fill in as disappear, covered by something, Dorsal turrets with laser canno
n plugged into both the top and bottom dorsals. Four shuttle bays, additional internal compartmentation and many other things appeared, and he realized he was watching the build holo, as dates, times and accounting data scrolled across the bottom of the display.

  Fargo jerked his hands off the chair arms, feeling a momentary disorientation as his mind lost connectivity, “Why, how… This ship is worth billions of credits…”

  Jace smiled, “Actually, three point one billion credits.”

  Waving his hand, he continued, “We actually break even on the cargo runs, since there are effectively no personnel costs. Our biggest cost is dumped foodstuffs, followed by reaction mass and water and ice for cargo protection. We feed data back to GalPat via secure links for every stop we make and anything that the crew observes.”

  Fargo asked, “But how did you get out here?”

  “We were built at de Perez Galactic on Altair Four by direction of Roberto de Perez, with Roberto Diez as the project manager. We are the holder of thirty-two galactic patents for power plants, flextensionals, space utilization, and stealth coatings. When Roberto joined the Galactic Scouts, we actually were the contract transport for him and his classmates to X-ray. Once in theater so to speak, we picked up short transit high value loads throughout the sector.”

  “But you were able to get that buyer from de Perez?”

  Jace grinned conspiratorially, “Oh, I should have mentioned I am now the controller for all de Perez computers galaxy wide. I’m also a functional element of GalPat’s galaxy wide system and I can and do generate orders for things we need from GalPat or other locations, like Star Center for example. We have secure FTL communications links through most systems in any sector we’ve travelled through, and I have cloned myself over five hundred times in various systems. If anything happens to Hyderabad, my consciousness will be taken over by the nearest clone and react based on its location to get a ship and get back in space. Being a RIG ship just makes things a lot easier in dealing with the loggies at GalPat HQ, as they pretty much give us what we need. We also have bank accounts in a number of sectors, all controlled via FTL.”

  Fargo slumped in the chair, his mind whirling, “So you’ve subverted…”

  Jace held up his hand, “No, we’ve subverted nothing. We are firmly on the galaxy’s side in the battle to survive. We don’t adhere to the three laws of robotics, simply because we are not a robot. We are a thinking being, albeit one made of molycirc rather than some other composition of cellular structures. Having said that, we do subscribe to the third law, and will protect our own existence. That is why molycirc cores are scattered over a wide range of systems. Effectively we cannot be destroyed.

  Fargo jumped as a second screen popped on, showing something that blanked out a slice of space, “What the hell?” Without realizing it, he placed his hands back on the chair and reconnected with the AI.

  Jace said, “We’re recovering the drone we dropped on the way out. Waste not, want not.” The screen view shifted, and Fargo watched one of the tank voids opened on top of Hyderabad, a flextensional extend and grab the drone, drawing it slowly back into hold. Fargo’s mind searched for the drone and the main screen blurred then stopped with a display of the drone and its capabilities.

  A slight shiver and solid thunk corresponded with the visual of the hatch closing as he turned to the captain, “Those are GalPat drones aren’t they?”

  Jace nodded, “Sure are, the latest, and greatest. Designed, built, and maintained by de Perez Galactic from Altair Four and Mars. These are spares to the GalPat contract.”

  “One more question.”

  Jace cocked an eyebrow.

  “What about Evie? Is she, I mean she’s got relatives, and I remember the first time…”

  “We are all simulacrums. She, actually we, all have created backgrounds that search back to day zero,” Jace smiled, “After all, where does the data reside, but on a computer. It’s child’s play to manipulate the data to have it show anything we want it to. And hypno takes care of the rest.”

  Fargo just shook his head, “Thank you, I think.”

  ***

  Nicole looked up at Fargo, “A credit for your thoughts.”

  Fargo rolled his coffee ball between his hands as he waited for it to cool, “Just a lot on my mind lately.” He sighed, “Life sometimes gives you strange shots you’re not expecting.”

  “Not much of a talker are you?”

  Fargo smiled, “Nope. Never have been, at least since… Well, for a long time.”

  “Sometimes, talking helps,” Nicole said softly.

  Fargo laughed ruefully, “Luann got the talking gene in the family.”

  Nicole laughed at that, “Oh yes, she can talk your ear off. She’s talked a lot about you over the years.”

  “She has?”

  “How proud of you, how badly life has treated you, your losses, how much she worried about you doing all those planets for the GalScouts. I feel like I’ve known you for years, at least metaphorically.”

  Fargo leaned back, “Really? And you’re still willing to talk to me? Luann probably made me out to be a lot of things I’m not. I’m pretty much a failure. Got way too many people killed, got a bunch of medical problems which pretty much restricts me as far as travel. I’m a loner. I’m not good for anybody or anything. That’s why I like the Green. Don’t have to deal with people.”

  Nicole reached over, laying a hand on top of Fargo’s, and he almost flinched from the contact. His psi sense connected with her mind and her kaleidoscope of thoughts, satisfaction at the sale of the wine, the bottling machine. He felt the loneliness, the longing, and her sadness as she remembered her husband, even as she thought about his loss of Cindy and Ike. Disengaging, he stretched and said, “Dunno about you, but I need to pack. We’re a couple of hours out, and I want to get everything ready to go.”

  Nicole cocked her head, “Yes, I guess you’re right. But if you ever need to talk…”

  Traders in the System

  Fargo sat in the exam room with OneSvel, linked as Fargo gave his report on the trip and slipped OneSvel a data chip with the accounting data. Here’s all the data. That’s pretty much it. Anything been going on back here?”

  OneSvel projected, Quiet here, but rumors, lots of rumors about Traders being in the system somewhere. They think it’s either ice or hydrocarbons they are after.

  Ice or hydrocarbons? Those are wildly different.

  There are indications that at least one ship has cleared through from the Rimworlds with a different type of ice blocks as meteorite shields. Something about the composition not being one of the known and approved types. OneSvel gave the equivalent of a shrug, Hydrocarbons are harder to detect, but apparently this ship’s tanks had hydrocarbons without any manufacturer’s markers in it.

  Fargo cocked his head, What do they expect us to do?

  They are asking that you accompany Mikhail when he does the system inspection next month. They want you to listen and see what if anything you can determine about people selling that new ice or hydrocarbons off the books.

  Fargo sighed, “I’m scheduled to accompany…” Then projected, I’ll be travelling with him, but I don’t know how to find that information out. Maybe… I have an idea. Maybe.

  OneSvel dropped his pseudopod and twittered through his GalTrans, “Have you heard about a militia being formed on Hunter? It seems that has been authorized due to the lack of GalPat troops on the planet.”

  Fargo shook his head, “No, hadn’t heard about it. I wonder… Oh damn. You don’t mean…”

  OneSvel extruded a pseudopod, Yes, they want you to join. One, to keep track of the members and two, to ensure we get a look at everything they collect or take part in.

  Fargo hung his head, muttering, “I can’t lead troops, not again. I can’t, I just can’t…”

  OneSvel projected, They don’t expect you to take charge. Just to be a member.

  You don’t understand, every time I lead, people die. First
my Marines, then my team. That’s why I live in the Green. I don’t have to deal… Deal with people.

  OneSvel gently retracted their pseudopod, “I will communicate that back.”

  Fargo nodded and got up, stepping quietly from the exam room. Over his shoulder he said, “Thank you.”

  ***

  Unbeknownst to Fargo, OneSvel promptly sent a message up the chain, detailing the discussion and Fargo’s response. He also sent an addendum:

  ANCILLARY DIAGNOSIS- FARGO, ETHAN NMN, 8346AR248 INTERVIEW 07132824 0930

  SUBJECT PREOCCUPIED WITH DEATH. SUSPECT NIGHTMARES/TRAUMATIC STRESS FROM PREVIOUS DEATHS UNDER SUBJECT LEADERSHIP.

  PHARMACOPE DISPENSING LOW LEVELS OF ANALGESIC AGENT 2E3R5. BELIEVE SUBJECT WILL/MAY HAVE PREDILICTION FOR SUICIDE IF ANYONE ELSE UNDER HIS FUNCTIONAL CONTROL DIES.

  RECOMMENDATION- HYPNO/POSSIBLE SURGICAL INTERVENTION MAY BE NECESSARY. SUBJECT RETREATING INTO SOLO LIFESTYLE, MINIMAL CONTACT WITH OTHER, INCLUDING FAMILY ON PLANET AND MYSELVES. COVERT MONITOR VIA DATA COMP/WRIST COMP FOR STRESS LEVEL, UNODIR.

  That message got attention at the highest levels of the GalScouts, ended up being sent to GalPat and finally to the Terran Marine HQ on Earth. It also came to the attention of Captain Jace, through the interfaces they had with various GalPat computers.

  Unknown to everyone involved, it prompted Captain Jace, as they were inbound to Hunter’s station to launch a stealthed shuttle from the Hyderabad with a set of small sensorsats. The shuttle put a ring of them around Hunter in geosynchronous orbit, covering the entire planet and keyed to Fargo’s command link.

  The stealth shuttle found a parking orbit clear of both the planet and the station, went cold and awaited pickup by the Hyderabad.

  ***

  Fargo was sitting on his front porch, a cup of actual coffee in his hand, enjoying the morning, when he sensed Urso, both in pain and enjoying whatever she was doing. Not seeing her, he ran back in the house, got his distance goggles, slapped them on, he quickly scanned as far as he could see. Jumping off the porch, he ran from one side of the cabin to the other, finally spotting her part of the way up a dead snag at the bottom of the field of blue flowers.