Felik had little doubt that despite what he said, Ilder would inform Xerix of anything significant he did or said.
Going by the standard crew layout, there was the captain, the ship mind, and the XO.
Felik's XO showed up in her avatar. A woman in her thirties with red hair and tired-looking eyes.
"And that makes you Juliard."
"That makes me Juliard," she said, clearly injecting as much enthusiasm as possible into a fake smile.
He forced his own smile. "Great. Welcome aboard. Well, technically, you were already here, so welcome out."
Ilder's core had been inserted into the ship by Xerix, but Juliard's core had existed as a part of it prior to Felik obtaining it. She'd been asleep—offline—for the last three decades.
"Sorry," Felik said, rubbing the back of his neck. "What I meant to say was you've been asleep a long time, so welcome back to the world of the living." He laughed, hoping to get her to. And she did. It was a dry laugh.
"You're new at this, aren't you, Captain?" She held a pleasant face, but there was a crudeness to her. A crudeness that probably came from discomfort.
"No need for tradition. Felik is fine. And yeah, it's my first ship."
"We all have to start somewhere."
Funnily enough that notion applied to their relationship, didn't it? Felik couldn't help comparing her resistance to certain extraterrestrials he'd contacted as a Guardian ambassador. Coming on too strong so early would provide little benefit. He figured he'd try again later.
"I think so," he said. "Speaking of, you've probably got a lot to catch up with. I'll leave you to it."
She did not answer. Instead, her avatar shimmered out. Given how long she'd been asleep, he didn't take her attitude personally. Still it was hard to feel any better about his crew.
Felik had full access to the Nassatar's archival data, sensors, and various read-outs. Not that he would be monitoring it all that closely. That was Ilder's assignment. Because the ship housed Juliard's core, it should've contained detailed information on her history. After looking through, he only learned that she had piloted the ship's mecha frame during the Great Cosmic Wars.
He sighed, wondering again why his genetic father had gifted him this vessel.
The StarMaster would've had access to the Union Omega's best technology, which, in short, meant he knew about the occurrences of the entire universe. Among many other functions, clusters of data-collecting core hubs constantly generated information about the universe's inhabitants down to an individual level and allowed the StarMaster to simultaneously keep tabs on millions of sapient lifeforms in a single instant.
So maybe the StarMaster had seen something special in him. What, Felik couldn't say given that he suffered from a neural virus and, in turn, excessive gambling habits and occasional immaturity.
He juggled this idea in his head, trying to link it with the attempt on his life at the MARINE base. And then there was Karina's warning.
Suddenly it clicked. He had no next of kin, no official will. If he died, anything he owned would pass to his work network, the Guardian Mind. Someone had tried to end him at the MARINES base so that the Union Omega government would inherit this ship.
Rhona had given him the order to go to that base. But he knew her. She had a tendency of sending him into risky situations. Always as a favor to others. She was only an intermediary, so, who had asked her to send him in?
As a formality, he'd sent her a congratulatory thought bubble shortly after learning of her departure from his network, but still received no response. Either she knew something and was hiding it or she'd been told not to speak with him.
The universe was far too big a place to figure out who'd planned his death without more clues. As it was now, he was clutching at straws.
Today, for the first time, the protocols that represented the will of the karma pylons showed a considerable advantage for Megas. More sapients believed the leaks about Oberon than Felik would've thought. Of course, his older brother dismissed them as fakes.
Felik had no doubt the tables would turn in a sol. Still, he wondered if he'd screwed up, all but pledging his loyalty to Oberon.
Having done what he could to open up communications with his crew, he returned to his more typical duties as Envoy.
Surprisingly, Rhona had left the network in pretty good shape. Most of his subordinates were overseeing or engaged in ongoing diplomatic negotiations to maintain unity with various alien species or solve non-military interstellar disputes.
In his private office, his protocol was probably the most interesting thing. From a silver floating pot, the foot-tall bright green and pink plant was a stark contrast to the room's dark gray interior. The protocol had no discernible face or mouth but offered him suggestion after suggestion in his nexus on micromanaging other teams of the Guardian Mind. Nothing out of his field of expertise—it felt fairly routine. Only now he was giving the orders instead of accepting them.
The Guardian Templar had synthesized this protocol's mind when the Guardian Mind formed fifty solar cycles earlier, but the green and pink plant didn't bring up his secret mission. Hours later when his work loop ended, he returned to the Nassatar's command sphere and considered his options.
Juliard must've known the StarMaster, so she'd be a useful resource. It didn't take more than five minutes of searching on the InfiNet—specifically the scholar realms—to discover rumors that she'd been having an affair with Arteyos back when long-term monogamy and marriage were still a thing.
"Juliard at the sphere."
"You called, Captain?" she materialized on the grass, sitting cross-legged by the pond.
Given that the Nassatar contained her core and consciousness, her memory should've been first-class. In other words, she'd called him captain purposefully. Better to let that one go. She was likely still adjusting to her place in the universe. He didn't want to become her outlet for angst, though.
"So you don't mind going by captain then?"
"Huh?"
"Earlier you said to call you Felik."
Trying not to look annoyed, he shrugged. "Yeah, it's no big deal. Either is fine."
She tilted her head and covered her mouth with her hand, maybe hiding a smile. Slowly, she nodded. "Okay."
Her intonation seemed doubtful. Clearly, she wanted to get under his skin. But why? What was her issue?
"What?" he asked then immediately regretted it. She was baiting him.
"Once you say something, you really mean it."
"Um, no. Sapients change their minds." She had a funny way of trying to create rapport between them.
"Obviously. That was a joke I used to make." Leaning over, she peered into the pond and murmured something to herself.
"Oh. Alright." He didn't understand it, but, then again, she came from a different era.
"I thought you parsed the data node on me," she said irritably.
"I did. Said nothing about—"
"Felik suffers from a neural virus that affects his memory in addition to other intelligence components," Ilder announced.
Juliard frowned, skimming the pond's surface with her fingertips. "I didn't read that in the file on you."
"That's because it's not in there," Felik said, wondering if Xerix had told Ilder.
"It doesn't take a fourth generational nexus to deduce the reasons for your substandard performance."
"Okay, I didn't realize she was joking." Felik put up his hands in exaggerated panic. "Yeah super substandard performance," Ilder said.
"You mean standard standard performance?" Ilder said.
Felik and Juliard gave him a funny look.
"Super and sub are opposites, so they cancel each other out. But you included them before the word 'standard.' Instead, you could qualify it as a standard standard."
"I was being sarcastic." Felik looked at Juliard. She hadn't altered her appearance since rebooting. Her eyes carried the same constant fatigued look. There was usually a reason someone di
dn't choose the most attractive avatar or living frame they could afford. What was weighing on her?
"I was referring to your work history in general as substandard," Ilder said.
Before Ilder could continue, Felik ordered, "Ilder, you can enter your sleep cycle if you like." Ilder complied. An auxiliary bot that utilized the processing power of Ilder's core would run basic functions of the ship in the meantime. That left the two of them on the soft green grass of the command sphere. Felik glanced at a goldfish swimming in the pond.
"So?" Juliard said. "It's okay if you forgot why you called me."
"Didn't forget," he beamed, happy to disappoint her. "I was just reading up and saw some rumors about your past. I was—"
"Wow." She strung out the word. "This generation is totally screwed."
He felt his face burning in shame. A vestigial trait he wished he'd toggled off before this. "What makes you say that?"
She pointed from herself to him. "I barely know you. I'm aware of the rumors on the InfiNet about me. You have no right to ask me about them."
"I'm your captain," he thought aloud. And he needed some sense of guidance for his investigation as badly as an Old Terran explorer with no ladar or working comm.
"A true captain doesn't have to remind his crew of that."
"He might. For example, if they get psi.hacked and don't remember who he is."
"I get it, I get it. Your genetic daddy is dead, and you want some answers about him. Don't you think if I knew anything about who terminated him, I would've told the starkeepers?"
Felik tilted his head. "You think he was terminated?"
He thought back to when Xerix said the same by accident.
Juliard furrowed her brow. "The ruler of the single largest empire in the entire universe doesn't just glitch himself out of existence."
Which left him to wonder if this was all some sort of a coup. An inside job. There were so many possibilities, variables, tangents to consider. It was no surprise the official investigation was taking so long even with the best artificial minds processing and analyzing it nonstop.
"If you had to bet on it, who would you pick as a suspect?" he asked her.
"Unlike you I'm not a gambler. But you've benefited from his death quite nicely, haven't you?"
He hadn't considered that. From an outsider's perspective, it might seem odd that he'd come out ahead with the StarMaster gone. "You don't honestly suspect me?"
"I didn't exactly say that, did I?"
"Well, I hope I'm reading you correctly," he said. "Because as Envoy, I intend to figure out this mess. And I have a feeling I might be making a few enemies along the way."
As the Guardian Templar had said, the StarMaster's death had destabilized the Union Omega. Without a resolution, there would be an interstellar bleeding. Already, tensions were rising.
As a scion, his older brother Megas had never shied away from voicing his uncensored opinions publicly. And now was no exception. Most recently, he'd been quoted, Now would, in my tactical opinion, be an opportune time to strike against one's enemies. With no StarMaster, a lot of what goes on in this transitional period is forgivable, really. I know if I become the new StarMaster, I'll overlook what happens.
Not surprisingly, localized conflicts had broken out within dozens of separate solar systems. Estimates suggested that millions of Type III sapient lives had been lost in the last few hours due to preemptive long-range strikes. It frightened Felik to imagine a sapient like Megas ruling the universe. Yet he'd mustered a lot of support with his claims of revoking Union Omega tech from alien species and bolstering new technological developments for New Terrans. Plus, he said he'd allow sex sims.
Of course, if the leaks on Oberon were true, he wouldn't be much better. He might even be a worse choice.
Juliard burst into laughter. "And I'm sure you'll do a much better job than all the other investigators."
"I didn't say I was an investigator." Felik had to be careful not to give away his special assignment from the Guardian Templar. "Isn't this why he cloned himself? Because he knew he could help the universe and he wanted others like him to do the same."
"Tell me, do you feel like a captain?"
"I don't know. What's a captain supposed to feel like?"
"Yeah that's what I thought. Look, you got screwed in your childhood, so I'm not going to hold your incompetence against you personally, but...." Her look made him suddenly feel pathetic. She was pitying him. "You're not my captain. You'll never be. You want answers? Go hop back on the InfiNet. Or find another girl with an alien glyph tattoo to eat out."
Chapter 16
KAI
* * *
The fact that Jace.blek visited Kai in person when he could've simply messaged her was itself a message. His combat peripherals and putting Vespel into sleep mode defined it as a warning. You dishonored me by surrendering so easily. Accept my invitation or I'll be really insulted. And you will face these peripherals again.
"You can't stay here," Vespel said, minutes later.
"I agree. There's a very good chance we'll die if we don't take Jace.blek up on his offer," Kai said. "Unless anyone has a better idea."
Of course they weren't any help. The corner of her lips twitched, and she shut her eyes in quiet contemplation. The universe had dealt her enervating blow after enervating blow, apparently intent on reducing her to a powerless state, devoid of joy.
Yet she hadn't appreciated how great acquiring karma bits had made her feel. Now, none of their game victories mattered, and knowledge of that loss left her hollow inside.
"For the record, there's a very, very good chance you are walking directly into a trap," Vespel said.
It occurred to her that Jace.blek might demand she turn over all her karma bits to him. She would meet that ship if it came. Until then, she considered the words he'd left her. A low-tech cyborg frame is not fitting for the heiress of the Hellion network. If he'd been watching her, he knew about the Starbleeders. And if he was smart, which he was, he'd simply sell her over to them. Except for one thing.
"I doubt it. He could've captured us earlier if he wanted."
"Good point," Vespel said in a tone indicating she didn't give a shit either way. "And to show my support, I'll buy you a portal to him."
The warp-gate delivered them to a wasteland of a valley. A fibrous mat of brownish-red slime coated everything from the gravel-strewn dirt to the slope rising in front of them. Tumors and veins of the slime even crawled along the trio of saucer structures lodged into the hillside.
Kai couldn't help comparing them to conks growing on tree bark. Except that the structures extended hundreds of feet out of the hillside and displayed a raw corroding metal surface in the spots free of the mold.
A breeze swept across the valley, and strands of brownish-red goop swayed from the bottom of the saucers like fallen webs. That's when Kai noticed they weren't alone.
Above, the ominous forms of dozens of Glenbot drones littered the air like a plague. A different variety than the models they'd encountered sols ago. The giant yellow-eyed machines had taken inspiration from Old Terra's ugliest crustaceans, their misshapen exoskeletons a discolored gray and white, arrayed with hundreds of sensory wires that twitched spontaneously. The extra big claws and spikes jutting out of cystic growths upped the freak factor.
"Let's cut to the chase," Kai snarled, "I know you're watching us."
"It took you long enough." Just like that, Jace.blek's headless, moldy warlord form spawned from the fungus on the ground next to them. He motioned to her. "Judging by your expression, you're not familiar with Buejentoe lifestyles. It's simple enough. When a member of my species matures, it builds its own nest. In any case, I am glad you accepted my invitation."
"And should I be glad I accepted it?" Kai asked.
"That depends how happy you are on this planet."
"First things first. You mentioned getting me a new living frame."
"Yes, it's a relatively standard upgra
de I give to high order members of my network." He waved them on in the direction of the saucers lodged in the hillside and Kai reluctantly followed across the slimy expanse.
"I don't think I've heard of your network."
"Consider that a feature, not a bug. On Burkos, I can get away with any number of frowned-upon activities thanks to the extensive legal loopholes. Sadly, most of those loopholes don't extend outside this planet's orbit. Anonymity is my network's best defense for exoplanet work. And until I can link you to my network, the details will remain private knowledge."
Kai folded her arms over her chest. If the situation were more usual, she would've told him to fuck off there and then out of spite.
"Let me get this straight, you want me to join your network because I'm a Hellion and we almost beat you in that match."
"Imagine me laughing right now," Jace.blek said. "You didn't almost beat me. On the contrary, you did exactly as I predicted. And that's why I really want you in my network. Predictable subordinates are the best."
Kai felt like he'd shoved her to the slimy ground.
"You're correct and, yet, I was entirely aware of that possibility. I predicted you would tell your player to surrender if I used that strategy. So that's what I did."
That gave her pause as Jace.blek led them into an underground tunnel at the base of the slope with the saucers. Inside, light spores cast a yellowish glow on the ooze running slick along the surfaces of the tunnel. Kai managed to speak despite smothering air that smelled like spoiled milk. "You're supposed to be a genius, though. Couldn't you have beaten us the old-fashioned way?"
Jace.blek gestured and they threaded their way past a plodding, gnarled purple tree trunk alien into an intersecting passage. "Of course. But there are different ways to win. Some more efficient than others. You're an inquisitor, you know that."
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