by Luke Norris
11
U.W.F PROTECTOR
Rieka had lost an arm this time. Blazing hydrons! Another organic body part gone—that was disappointing. She released another dose of the painkillers. She hated using the drugs, they dulled the facilities, but her right arm above the elbow had been torn off in the blast. Despite the mind focusing techniques she employed to isolate the pain, the injury was extreme, and the discomfort was distracting. She felt the drugs take instant effect, making the pain a dull throb, and causing her to sway on her feet.
The jobs had become more dangerous, she had to concede. The early-traders were getting more desperate, like cornered animals, using whatever means they had at their disposal to try and fight protectors. This added an extra layer of complexity for Rieka because, unlike her, they were indifferent to collateral damage—innocent first-stagers were the victims. She had to employ more stealth, to avoid some crazy early-trader blowing up the whole place just to stop the protector.
In some cases, the pirates were even banning together now, as Rieka had discovered the hard way. That was unheard of in the old days, and certainly not in keeping with their typical cowardly behavior. Normally, it was every pirate for themselves when a U.W.F. patroller arrived. It didn’t matter, the result was the same. They never came quietly. And why would they? They knew that to be taken into custody by intergalactic police had one outcome: trial, and the death penalty.
In all of Rieka’s cleanups, not a single early-trader had opted to come quietly. Not once. Nevertheless, she always followed procedure and went through the charade of giving them the option. It was the law, and the law is what separated her from those animals. But following the law had been costly this time. She instinctively felt at the stump of her arm. It was a cost she was prepared to bear, to know the lives she’d protected.
When Rieka had undergone selection to be a protector all those years ago, the U.W.F. propaganda she was sold was bullshit. There was no fame for such a job, no prestige. Just isolation. That was the real cost, loneliness. When she was younger, there had been some part of her that had done it for the notoriety of being an elite protector. Motivations driven by the stories every Terrassian child hears about the heroes on the outer spiral. They never told the kids it was a lonely, friendless, life of anonymity. Nobody would ever know who she was. But that didn’t matter, those narcissistic reasons seemed laughable and petty now. Her motivations had changed over time. In many ways, the job had a far deeper meaning for her now, especially after seeing first hand the devastation early-traders caused.
Rieka staggered to the landing pod. Several of her drones shadowed her closely until she was inside, then they stayed hovering above the small craft. The others had zipped into the sky and would dock with Tin, who was in orbit. She checked the tourniquet on her combat suit. The seam below the shoulder had closed instantly, constricting the blood flow. It would have to hold until she was in the med chamber onboard.
Damn, this injury would mean a delay before going into stasis sleep. Her body would need to recover after the operation. Inducing the cryogenics immediately after heavy trauma was a bad idea. Galish had a bionic leg attached after one cleanup and had gone straight into his cryogenic bed after the operation. When he woke, the nerves had rejected the bionics. They just had not been able to heal adequately with his body in slow-time. He was in a bad way. The worst part, his lack of judgment meant he couldn’t go planetside, and the consequences had been grave for the inhabitants. He received a dishonorable discharge. After all the good he’d done previously, Rieka thought. We don’t get the luxury to be able to screw-up once. On top of that, his injury meant he still had to spend the remainder of his days drugged up on medical cocktails to keep him alive.
She climbed into the cockpit flight seat. It sunk around her hips and shoulders, molding to her body, and attached itself to her combat suit. It was designed to mitigate the G-forces the small craft could produce when performing evasive maneuvers in a planet’s atmosphere. Often necessary, not just for aerial combat with early-traders but even evading the inhabitants, depending on their degree of technology. How were they meant to know she was there to protect them from pirates? She couldn’t blame them for trying to defend themselves.
“Rieka, you’ve undergone massive trauma, and your body’s in shock,” the ship’s computer observed. The male voice mimicked a concerned tone and spoke from the flight console. The ship’s computer had the ability to speak directly through her implants, but the U.W.F. psychologists insisted that because protectors spent so much of their time in isolation from other people, it was healthier to have external interaction when speaking. She’d named him Tin since he was in effect a giant tin.
The familiar voice continued. “I will ensure we don’t exceed four standard G’s on the accent, to reduce stress on the body.” The landing craft hummed, then elevated gently from the ground. “The med-chamber has begun building your bionic arm replacement,” Tin added. “The operating table will be ready upon our arrival.”
Rieka grunted. “You know Tin, I was kind of attached to that arm.”
“Well, of course, you were attached… okay very clever.” Tin said. “I’m afraid I do not feel it is appropriate to laugh under the current circumstances.”
Tin was advanced, but occasionally he would slip, and Rieka was reminded he was an A.I. and not the person she treated him like.
“Rieka, I told you to have your organic limbs replaced with bionics on our second mission together. If you had listened, you would not be under so much stress now. It’s dangerous. I don’t know why you insist on keeping so much of your organic body.”
Tin was right, but she didn’t need reminding at this very moment. Bionics were superior in almost every way. She didn’t know of any other protectors who weren’t almost completely bionic. But there was something that Rieka liked about still having her original body parts—the last vestige of an old life, one not so lonely.
“Well, you’ve got your wish now, Tin. You can put a nice shiny arm on me. Happy?” She was sweating and on the verge of passing out. The nanites in her bloodstream would be furiously working to stave off infection. The combination of painkillers and her bodies reaction was too much right now. “You alright to get me to the operating table on your own, Tin? I think I’m going to take a little nap.”
“Yes, don’t worry about that,” Tin replied. “I’ll have Hands bring you in.”
“Thank you kindly,” Rieka closed her eyes.
“Rieka,” a different male voice interrupted her repose, “are you conscious?” It was the minister.
Rieka had her standard objectives, same as every other protector. But then she had her other mission, an additional task you might say. The one that was not public knowledge. In fact, discretion had been a central condition of her accepting the contract. But if having a private benefactor meant she could be a more effective protector, and it didn’t interfere with her primary duties, she was satisfied to continue the arrangement. So far it had meant a state of the art ship and credits whenever she needed them-no questions asked.
Threeti Caplan, the New World Integration Minister, had head-hunted her specifically for the job, soon after she’d passed selection. It was not surprising he’d approached her for the task, she was top in her selection unit. All he required from her was to give updates after each planet cleanup. He never questioned her, never asked if she had done this or that. The only disadvantage was that being her benefactor, he felt he could contact her whenever he liked, which was often not the most opportune moment.
“Rieka,” the minister’s voice brought her attention to the hologram of his bust on the flight console. “You look worse for wear,” he said, looking at the horrific injury. “Should I be concerned?”
His dispassionate voice reminded Rieka of their business relationship. He was inadvertently asking if she was going to be able to continue with their agreement.
“Minister,” Rieka replied. “Tin has assured me I have a ninety-five
percent chance of survival.”
“Good. Any leads?” Small talk had grown less and less over the years, a man in his position, and his age didn’t have time to waste time on arbitrary banter. Fine, she certainly wasn’t in the mood right now.
Rieka couldn’t believe how old Minister Caplan looked. He seemed to have aged a decade since she saw him last. He had been a young man upon first their first meeting, In fact, at that time he was only the House Representative for New Worlds Integration. Theirs had been a long relationship. The nature of their infrequent communications was like a time-lapse effect. She was staring at the face of an old man. He’ll be lucky to see me through two more cleanups. She knew she would hardly have aged from the minister’s perspective. She spent much more time than the average Terrasian in hibernation, due to the nature of her job.
Rieka admired Minister Caplan’s quiet tenacity and his persistence over all these years. Or was it something else, simply the fool’s hope of a heartbroken father? He still had hope that his daughter was out there somewhere. Rieka had seen enough of the outer spiral to know that if Verity really had been kidnapped by pirates, as the trail of clues suggested, they would’ve demanded a ransom long ago. There had been no ransom demand. No word from Verity. The conclusion was obvious, but Rieka kept her prognosis to herself. The minister was a smart man, he didn’t need to be told.
“Minister,” Rieka’s voice was slurred, “I observed the pirates in stealth for some time before my presence was made known to them. There was no indication that Verity had been in contact with any of these crews.”
“Thank you, Rieka.” The Minister’s eyes betrayed the sign of the disappointment, he was silent for some time. Rieka waited.
“I may have a lead for you this time,” he said finally. “I have come to learn that command tracked one of the early-traders that was involved in looting the planet Earth, but they lost the signal after point two quadrants. The ship escaped. However, they have detected a singing first-stage planet point two five quadrants away, and suspect they may have taken refuge there.”
“How long has the planet been singing for?”
“Signals were first detected a decade ago.”
“They’ve been singing for a decade already?” Rieka exclaimed. Then you know there is a very good chance every E.T. within a point will be on their way, if not already there. I will need to pursue this at once.”
If there was even a remote chance of reaching a first-stage planet early it could mean prevention, rather than cleanup. It could mean avoiding the suffering of millions, if not billions, of inhabitants.
“I know,” replied the minister. “If you find the ship that was involved in Earth, remember our agreement, there is a chance she could be there.”
Rieka had followed Verity’s trail across the galaxy. The last place she had been able to substantiate the girl’s whereabouts had been a trading post on the outer spiral. Rieka smiled thinking back on how jittery those slimy black traders had been when a U.W.F. patroller docked at their little trading station and then discovered an official protector was on board.
They made the mistake of trying to sell her the pretense they were running some kind of legitimate trading business. She knew the truth. They were a scourge that needed to be eliminated. Unfortunately for Rieka, they’d insulated themselves just enough from the E.T.’s to operate in some legally grey area. She knew what went on in those trading posts. She’d counted on them being prepared to tell her what she needed just to have her gone.
Nevertheless, it had taken some coercion on her part to extract information from the black traders. They acted upon some misguided pirate’s code, where they wouldn’t spill information, and snitch on other traders. In the end, she had learned two things: The first, it seemed that they were genuinely unaware of Verity’s true identity, which raised the odds of the girl’s survival considerably. The second piece of information was, she had taken up with a crew which had gone to Earth.
Rieka had followed, but after the cleanup on Earth, the trail had gone cold. She had nothing new, until now.
“Tin has all the relevant information,” the minister told her. He waited, looking at her as if he wanted to say something else, but then the hologram blinked out. He’d ended the call. Rieka closed her eyes again.
“I feel I must remind you,” Tin said, “you will require time for your body to adopt your new bionic arm. You cannot go into slow time beforehand.”
Rieka raised her arm in objection, and realized that Tin had a point when her arm didn’t appear where it should have.
“How much of me is still human, Tin?” she asked drowsily. “I mean after this operation I’ll be mostly robot, right? Makes sense I guess. My best friend is a robot. I don’t have any human friends.” She was ranting, and she knew it. It was these damn drugs making her nostalgic.
“Your best friend is a robot?” Tin asked.
“Yes, and not so smart sometimes,” she waited. “Oh blazing hydrons, Tin. I’m talking about you.”
“Ah, I see,” Tin said. “To answer your question, Rieka, Including your organs you will be a little over forty-two percent bionic. Still majority human.”
“It feels like more. I swear, soon I’ll just be a human brain in a robotic shell—Tin number two.” She gave a derisive chuckle. “You know those bastards actually do that? One of our patrollers intercepted an early-trader that had actually encased some poor first-stager scientists in pods. And I’m not talking high tech bionic body here, I’m talking about a shell with a little arm if they are lucky. Just using them for their genius.”
“Early traders don’t have the latest bionic technology, Rieka. I receive this technology encrypted directly from Research and Development. The bionictech available to protectors is not available to others.”
“You’re missing the point, Tin.” Rieka closed her eyes, as the craft accelerated into the sky. She had set the capsule walls to transparent, and lightning flashed as the craft punctured the dark nimbus cloud formation in their path.
Some minutes passed before Tin spoke. “You mean they would have preferred to keep their organic bodies?” he paused as if processing, “like you,” he added.
“Something like that,” Rieka said. She opened her eyes in time to see the atmospheric blue hue darken. A moment later the stars came into view, as they exited the planet’s stratosphere. She felt the gravity alleviate, and her body relax in the flight seat. Tin quickly compensated and increased the acceleration to match standard Terras gravity. Her body pressed back into the seat.
“My point was,” Rieka continued, “this was done against their will, and yes it is a decided downgrade. You know in some ways these early-traders having such antiquated technology ends up being worse. They are creative buggers and will use whatever means they have to achieve their ends. Those abominations are just one example, Tin. On the other hand, we wouldn’t want E.T.s to be more advanced than they already are.”
They were entering the mesosphere, and the flight capsule walls tinted to allow Rieka to look directly at the planet’s star. It was a white circle specked with dark red. A single star system, and reasonably small as stars go. Making the habitable planet zone closer to the star than average.
“How was the handover?” Tin asked.
“Huh?” Rieka felt groggy. “Oh you know, usual U.W.F. rigmarole. They released me due to the injury. They have all my video footage anyway. I don’t know why they need to even do an official handover. Also, there were four other protectors on this job, so I wasn’t needed.”
“How bad was it for the first-stage inhabitants?” Tin asked.
“Not as bad as it could have been I suppose. There were only three early-trader crews in the end. Trea was the first protector to arrive. He got here very early and spooked the E.T.s.
“They had only just begun vying for one of the continents. Blanketing had already happened, and the chemicals were already in the water. The cleanup team has started the process of reversal.
&nb
sp; “Trea didn’t make it though,” Rieka said, recalling hearing the news from an emotionless U.W.F. bureaucrat. “They got him, Tin. He went in on his own and faced them all at once. They don’t know exactly how many that was, but ultimately he took on two entire pirate crews. Headquarters are going over his journal records, to identify exactly how they managed to take down a protector. One thing seems certain, they were working together. That much we do know. Crazy right? Those pirates battle each other on the planet, then team up when the protectors arrive. We are the shared enemy I guess.”
Rieka felt her center of gravity shift as the small spacecraft rotated one hundred and eighty degrees and seamlessly began decelerating. She felt the floating sensation for a moment, then felt her back press once again into the chair. The planet they had just left came into view and filled nearly the entire field of vision. They had traveled a considerable distance in a reasonably short time. It didn’t take long when you were at a constant acceleration. The blue and greens of a life-harboring planet stared back at her. A view she’d seen dozens of times, yet was always beautiful. Swirling clouds. Oceans. Life. They flew in silence, Rieka was lost in thought.
The first moon, only visible as a small marble, shone brightly on the dark side of the planet. It was unusually small for a natural moon. What’s more, it was orbiting the wrong way. “Remind me to take a look there before we head off!” she grimaced, the throb was becoming intense.
“Your theory, about there being a ‘third-stage’ civilization?” Tin asked. “You think this moon may have the crystals?”
“It looks too small to have been a naturally formed satellite,” Rieka said. “Most objects that small and that close to their host would have been absorbed upon creation. What’s more, it has a retrograde orbit.”