by M. D. Cooper
“Another series of muscle mods gone awry,” she murmured, and he hmmed at her explanation as he directed the light toward where her hand hovered over her next incision site.
She made a quick cut along the man’s arm where another muscle modification had begun to seep outside his epidermis. Reaching for a pair of tweezers and some gauze, Noa cleared the area of blood so that Dominica’s view of the incision was unimpeded.
“The ship from Proxima is entering the system,” Noa said after a moment.
Dominica looked up sharply at that, one eyebrow raised. “Do you think they can be convinced to help, when none of the others in this system have raised a finger yet?” she asked.
“Yes. Bette and Charley have a plan.”
Her mouth twisted wryly at the mention of Noa’s two AI friends who had hidden themselves away within the bunker.
“Please tell me it doesn’t involve anything drastic like taking over the ring.” She kept her voice carefully neutral.
Noa looked briefly startled before hesitating and then shaking his head.
She stared at him, her face a mixture of wariness and exasperation, as if she didn’t quite believe him. “Stars forbid I have to begin treating people for psychotic breaks from reality,” she muttered and returned her gaze to the figure on the table before her.
Noa’s response was little more than a noncommittal noise.
“How is the colloidene replication coming along?” she asked after a moment.
“We’ve used up all the formation material we have. It is enough to keep those of us here in the triage camp phage-free, though even if we are re-infected, it’s a simple matter to re-vaccinate.”
He spared her a glance, his tone one of mild rebuke, and Dominica quashed a surge of guilt at her earlier insinuation that the man would refuse to risk his own skin to help others.
“What we need now is enough formation material to create enough colloidenes to seed the camps and the ring,” he told her.
Dominica snorted in disgust. “Good luck with that. The ring’s not into doing us many favors these days, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
Noa lifted one shoulder in a small shrug. “I doubt they will come through for us,” he admitted, “which is why Bette’s trying to get a message to the ship that just arrived, to ask for their help.”
Dominica looked up sharply as a thought occurred to her. “If the ring will allow it, and if they’re able to get past the blockade.”
Noa just looked at her, his expression inscrutable. “At the moment, it’s the best we can do.”
She let out a soft sigh and nodded. They worked together for several minutes, Noa holding the light, as the senator who had accompanied her patient to the triage camp stood watchfully in the corner of the tent.
As she made her last incision, Dominica let out a small frustrated sound, then waved her hands over her instrument tray. “I feel like I’m back in the dark ages, working with little more than flint knives and wooden sticks,” she said, her voice bitter as she turned back to her patient, using tweezers to remove the overgrown tissue and set it aside. Reaching for a needle and thread from among the pan of sterile instruments, she brought it up to eye level and glanced over at the scientist. “A needle and thread, Noa, for stars’ sakes! Everything about purposely sticking a sharp object into a man’s epidermis is just wrong,” she said, her voice thick with frustration and anger.
“And yet, it must be done.” His voice was implacable.
Dominica hated that the man was so able to control the emotions she knew he felt and yet refused to display. She wished she had such control, but instead her fiery temper often got the best of her. She laughed mentally; well, it wasn’t like she could torpedo her career any more than she had when she’d joined forces with Noa.
She made an impatient gesture, and said brusquely, “I can finish here just fine. Thank you for checking on me. I’ll send an orderly to get the senator when Bryce is ready for transport.” Noa dipped his head once in acknowledgment, and then turned and ducked out of the tent.
Dominica sighed as she glanced up at his retreating back while plunging the needle once more into the unconscious man’s arm.
“Medieval medicine,” she muttered under her breath as she pulled the thread taut. “I’ll never take mednano for granted again.”
* * * * *
As Noa exited the tent, he glanced back over his shoulder at the camouflage covering overlaying Dominica’s makeshift surgical theater. His eyes roamed across the rest of the triage camp, making note of shelters nestled between trees, and hidden in the lee of a small hillock that rose from the ground three meters in height.
Then, as he did so often whenever he left the bunker, he glanced up at the expanse of ring stretching overhead.
Stars, how has it come to this? he thought.
His chrono flashed up on his HUD, pinging as it reinitialized after the EMP. He had just enough time to make it through the bunker’s decontamination before the next scheduled response from Avon Vale would arrive. He sent up a silent plea to the ancestors that the news would be positive.
DANGLING CARROTS
STELLAR DATE: 09.07.3252 (Adjusted Gregorian)
LOCATION: Inbound, above the stellar plane of the Nereids
REGION: 10 AU inside heliopause, Tau Ceti
Calista glanced over at the navigation board from her seat in the captain’s chair once more; The Avon Vale was just under sixty AU from the far side of the wide dust belt that filled outer Tau Ceti.
Communications lag between the ship and Galene was still a good sixteen hours, which meant conversations were still being exchanged as recorded messages a little over half a day old. Calista had been momentarily nonplussed when Shannon had informed them that one such message had just been received—sent specifically to them from the very man they were planning to hunt down.
Noa Sakai.
She’d called the rest of the team up to the bridge after reviewing it once on her own. Now she observed them, gauging their reactions as they watched Sakai’s missive for the first time.
She had already discussed Noa’s request briefly with Shannon, when the engineer embedded in the Vale first brought it to her attention. But Calista wanted to know how the others felt about it, given what they suspected of Sakai’s involvement in the smuggling of shackled AIs.
Some of what Calista saw reflected in the faces around her was what she’d expected to see: anger, outrage, resentment. But she also saw the beginnings of conflict, and even concern. That last was good, especially given that she’d already decided this man needed their help.
She glanced over at Terrance and was gratified to see him answering her questioning look with a firm nod. She knew he hadn’t missed the lines of strain on Noa’s face; they all could see how haggard the human looked as he stood before the bunker’s optics and explained the situation.
“The problem we face is that the ring no longer has the capability—or inclination—to confirm that our solution works,” Noa was saying. “We’ve sent them streams demonstrating that the nanophage is not only stoppable, but reversible, but they accused us of falsifying the vid.”
Calista and Jason exchanged glances, her XO looking reluctantly impressed. She looked over at Terrance and saw the man rub his hand across the scratchy stubble of his jawline in thought as the physicist continued.
“I’m piggybacking my research onto this stream for your people to review. The phage is spread through a colloidene carrying a click assembly brick,” Noa explained.
This meant nothing to Calista, but she took it to be a positive sign when she saw Jonesy sit up taller, his eyes narrowing, while at the same time, Shannon’s avatar tilted her head to one side, her expression thoughtful.
“We’re not the only ones who need formation material,” Noa added. “There are plenty of sentients up on the ring still in cryo who need this rectification code, and I’m sure there are colloidenes still infecting the ring; there just isn’t much nano left up the
re for it to infect, so it only appears as if the phage is under control.”
The man on the recording grimaced, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand as he considered his next words. “But frankly, as much as I disagree with their methods, they’ve at least managed a sort of stalemate up there. We’re battling active colloidenes shedding their click assembly codes on a daily—sometimes hourly—basis. We’re losing lives down here. We’re desperate for that formation material.”
As the recording ended, the bridge remained silent except for the underlying hum of the ship underway and the rhythmic thumb of Tobi’s tail from where she sat near Jason’s feet.
After a moment, Terrance straightened.
Terrance sent his agreement, and then shifted and put on what Calista privately thought as his ‘owner of the expedition’ face as he began to address the bridge.
“Okay, people, you saw his transmission. Shannon, Jonesy. I want your initial evaluation of Sakai’s research within the hour. Loop Marta in on it, would you, please?” he added as Jonesy rose, ready to head toward the lift.
Shannon’s avatar frowned. “I don’t like it,” she said, her tone blunt. “I don’t trust him.”
Calista tilted her head and shot Shannon a look. “You mean because it’s Noa Sakai.”
It wasn’t a question. It was evident that Shannon was wrestling with the thought that the salvation of Ring Galene—actually, all of Tau Ceti—could possibly come from someone who had been complicit in the purchase of the very AIs they had come to this system to free.
“I get your feelings, I really do,” Calista assured her, but saw Shannon’s brows draw down at her words.
“Why do I hear a ‘but’ coming?” the engineer demanded.
“Because there is one,” Calista admitted, pausing to lift one shoulder in a half-shrug. “Sometimes you have to deal with things you don’t like, to get things done that need doing. It’s the classic pyramid of needs.”
She saw Terrance stir at that.
“Yes,” the exec concurred. “You have to begin with the greatest need, and then proceed from there. But don’t worry, Shannon. Noa will have his reckoning, I assure you that.”
“If the man is culpable, he will be brought to justice,” Calista agreed, backing up Terrance’s words, her tone unyielding. “You have my word.”
Shannon hesitated, then planted her hands on her hips and glared pointedly at both Calista and Terrance. “He damn well better be,” she muttered. “I’m holding you to that.” Her eyebrows rose in a challenging look, and then her image dissolved.
As Calista had requested, they reconvened an hour later.
“So what do you think?” Jason asked, as Jonesy pushed Tobi aside so that he could slide back into his seat, and Shannon’s avatar winked into existence. “Has this guy found the solution?”
Shannon frowned, folded her arms, and shot Jason a glare. “You mean Bette and Charley.”
“Noa, Bette and Charley,” Terrance inserted in a placating tone. “And you didn’t answer Jason’s question. Have they found a solution?”
Shannon snorted and turned away, but Jonesy looked up and nodded, his gaze firm as he answered.
“Yes, sir, I think they have. Our simulations concur; the science is solid. Whoever else this guy might be, at least he knows his nano.”
Shannon shrugged uncomfortably, but after a moment, nodded her agreement.
“And we have enough formation material to get the job done?” Terrance’s voice was sharp as he sought confirmation.
Shannon nodded. “Yes, we do. In fact, it’ll hardly make a dent in our stockpile,” she admitted.
“Very well, then.” Calista paused as she considered the next steps her bridge crew would take. “Given that the ring is in a state of anarchy at the moment, how can we deliver the material to the planet?”
“As in, how do we get it past the blockade the Galene Space Force has around the planet, and the picket that the Federated States of Tau Ceti have set up beyond their moon to interdict this part of the system from all comers?” Jason’s voice was dry.
“Yes,” she agreed. “Let’s ignore the FSTC picket for the moment and assume one of two scenarios: either Ring Galene won’t care that we provide assistance to Sakai…or they will actively block our attempt to help. Thoughts?”
She saw Jason pick up a stylus from the console where he sat and begin idly weaving it through his fingers; Jonesy used the toe of one boot to send his seat at the nav station swaying gently back and forth, head bent in thought. Terrance…just paced, accompanied by the soft click of Beck’s paws.
It was an intriguing contrast to the utter stillness of the four AIs: Kodi, Landon, Tobias and Logan. Though she knew that everyone present was busy considering, discarding, and reformulating various approaches to the problem.
“The way I see it,” Jason said slowly, setting the stylus down and swiveling toward her. “It’s not a matter of ‘either…or’. It’s a matter of ‘who first’. Am I right?”
She nodded and saw Terrance lean forward, tilting his head in an invitation for the pilot to expound on his statement.
“Both the ring and the planet need the nano that Sakai’s going to make; the ring just refuses to believe it,” Jason went on to explain, looking between her and Terrance. “And we don’t dare risk them blocking our delivery, so it’s best if we find a way to distract them so that the formation material gets safely to the planet. Am I right so far?”
Landon stirred. “Yes, I believe I see where you’re going with this. And a distraction may be easier for us to pull off than you may think.” The AI’s gaze shifted from the projection of Galene and its ring on the bridge’s main holo, coming to rest on his brother. “Given what Noa described, what do you think the odds are that the ring has decommissioned all its higher-thinking, machine-learning NSAIs out of fear they’d become infected?”
“That would be a safe bet,” Logan agreed.
At the profiler’s words, Calista saw Jason sit up suddenly and snap the stylus out of the air with one hand. The motion had Tobi flattening her ears and whacking him once with her tail. Jason absently rubbed the big cat under her chin in apology as he speared Landon with a look.
“Wait, are you suggesting that the ring’s security forces have resorted to actively patrolling with humans alone? No NSAI surveillance of any kind?” He looked expectantly from Landon to Logan.
“That would be a reasonable conclusion, yes,” the profiler admitted. “Although the ships in the blockade may be another matter. At least some of them would be ships that have managed to escape the phage, which means they will have fully-modern capabilities.”
“Yes, but, lad, we have yet to see how their sensors stack up to Alpha Centauri tech,” Tobias reminded him. “The picket of FSTC ships keeping the rest of Tau Ceti from Galene nearspace should give us a feel for the capabilities of the GSC ships around the planet. We can assume they won’t be any better than what the Federated States have, at any rate.”
Jason’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully as he stared over at the Weapon Born. “Good point, Tobe. It’d be interesting to see if they can spot the Mirage or one of the Icarus shuttles.”
“So, you’re thinking we launch—what? Both a shuttle and a fighter to test their sensors? What do we say if we’re caught?” Calista questioned, and he shrugged.
“There’s no crime in going out for a little joyride, is there?” The pilot grinned wickedly at her, and she shot him a look of exasperation. He held his hands up in self-defense. “I’m not saying it’s without a bit of risk, but I really think we have a good chance of sliding by without being seen, given the reflectance of the ships’ surfaces—especially if we calculate our trajectories carefully.”
She looked at him a moment, eyes narrowing in thought. “I suppose we could maneuver the ship so that the Vale can hide their deceleration burns,” she mused. “The Icarus ships wo
uld need to stay in our shadow, since they’ll be traveling at the same velocity when we drop them,” she warned, and he nodded his acceptance of her caveat.
She leant back, her gaze shifting from Jason to Terrance. “Okay, so what’s our strategy?” She nodded to the image on the holo. “The Vale can’t begin vectoring toward Galene without someone hailing us and challenging our intent. What do we tell them?”
“We offer to play intermediary.”
She felt her eyebrows raise at Logan’s statement, and then heard a rumble of approval from Terrance at the profiler’s words.
“Sounds like a job Enfield Holdings might be able to take on, since the ring has made it obvious they want our stasis tech,” the exec murmured. “That’s a pretty sweet carrot to entice them with.”
“Yes, but in this situation—and I can’t believe I’m about to say this—I’m the best person to play Enfield intermediary.” Jason’s voice was unexpected; his comment even more so, and Calista watched in surprise as Jason held up a finger to forestall Terrance’s nascent protest. Sensing the exec’s consternation, Beck cocked his head, glancing with interest between the two men, but for once, remained silent.
“Whoever is going to be the face of Enfield has to be the one who can run the ring op. For obvious reasons, that can’t be you, since AIs are banned on the ring,” he said flatly as he shot Terrance—and by extension, Kodi—a pointed look. “I’m the least modded human we have, plus I have my L2 capabilities that we can use as our ace in the hole, if we need it.”
At Terrance’s nod, he continued.
“And while it severely pains me to pass on a really sweet gig,” Jason shot the exec a grin, “I think it’s best if you take our relief package to the planet’s surface on Eidolon, while I take Sable Wind and rendezvous with the ring.”
Calista had a bad feeling about the look in Terrance’s eyes at that suggestion.
Now would be a good time to remind him that his reckless streak’s just about as bad as Jason’s, she thought, remembering a certain shoot-out in the bowels of the El Dorado Ring followed by a live-fire exfil on a Proxima torus decades ago.