by M. D. Cooper
“There’s talk of setting up a quarantine zone for the infected down on the planet,” she said finally. “Less chance of the nano infecting the ring and bringing structural harm to it,” she shrugged, “at least, that’s what I heard.”
Noa nodded thoughtfully. “It makes a certain amount of sense. The planet, I mean.”
Noa frowned as he slipped the last of his data into a small brief, tucked it into the container, and sealed it shut. Activating the maglev hand truck he’d loaded up with all his containers, he waved Marn to the door with a polite ‘after you’ gesture. As they stopped in front of the bank of lifts that would take him down to the maglev line that led to the spaceport, the physicist paused.
“I fear—” and here he grimaced at the oddly prescient use of that word, “that fear is the key here. The government fears what may happen. Thus, they’re reacting swiftly to contain it, assuming they can apologize afterward if they acted in haste, or overreacted, out of an abundance of caution.”
No, I don’t suspect they will, Noa thought, raising a hand in goodbye as the doors closed between him and Marn, and the lift began to descend.
But that was their problem. His duty rested in a hardened bunker, buried deep inside a mountain, one hundred fifty kilometers from the base of Galene Elevator, located at Hokkaido’s city center.
THE BUNKER
STELLAR DATE: 03.07.3246 (Adjusted Gregorian)
LOCATION: Underground bunker, Zao Mountains
REGION: 150 kilometers from Hokkaido, Galene
The lights in the underground bunker sprang on when Noa entered. It had taken years and no small amount of credits to create a fully isolated space from which he could work, but the Imbesi event had turned him into a believer in the doomsday scenario.
Not enough to hide himself away from the universe, but enough to build a fallback, in case it should ever be needed.
He faithfully followed the protocols he’d established a decade before with help from the two AIs from the New Saint Louis.
That encounter changed everything, he thought as he and the cubic meters of atmosphere he’d brought into the air gap went through the rigorous decontamination process that Charley and Bette had designed.
‘Physical sandboxing’. That’s what Charley had called it.
Charley’s presence was a stroke of good fortune that Noa did not deserve, but he was grateful for the good that had come out of an act that had been desperately immoral and unethical. Desperate in that it was the only certain way to ensure a non-Tau Ceti AI’s compliance. Immoral and unethical because the end would never justify the means, no matter how many lives would be saved by sacrificing the lives of two AIs. But fortune had forgiven Noa, or rather, Bette and Charley had.
In the recounting of the incident that had brought the two AIs to Tau Ceti, Noa learned that Charley had been involved in a highly classified cover-up of a nano breach in the Jovian Combine during the Sentience Wars.
“I set out for Alpha Centauri,” the AI had explained, “as a way to begin anew, away from Sol. I’d had enough of war, but my parentage meant that I was destined to become involved, whether I wanted to or not.”
Noa had cocked his head at that. “In what way?” he’d asked, and, after a moment, the AI had reformed from a pillar of light into an avatar of a young man with haunted eyes.
“I was born from a pairing between a Weapon Born and a multi-nodal AI,” he explained. “My parents gave me the sum of their knowledge and abilities and raised me to adulthood within a matter of days to help defend the Jovian Combine from opportunistic viruses.”
Noa saw Bette’s pillar pulse—in shock, it seemed to him, although he couldn’t say exactly why.
“One of those viruses was an attempt to create a nanophage.”
Noa had inhaled sharply at that.
Bette had said, and he’d received the impression of rapidly-exchanged information that could only occur between two AIs.
“I think,” Charley then said, his tone pensive, “that it was fortuitous that this happened. I don’t care what system I settle in, as long as it’s not Sol. I’ve reviewed what history the Sea of Stones Spa has on Tau Ceti, and I find it appealing. I would be pleased to settle here—and to help set up a protocol on my adopted home that ensures we have the means to recover from a nanophage, should it ever truly be unleashed upon us.”
Noa’s thoughts returned to the present as the air gap signaled he was now devoid of all nano, and it was safe to proceed into the bunker. Before entering, he severed his Link’s connection to the planetary net and exchanged his token with the NSAI he had painstakingly installed to Charley’s exacting specifications.
The NSAI was sandboxed in the same manner that both Bette and Charley had sandboxed copies of themselves, after having made backups onto immutable crystal storage more than a decade ago.
Going forward, every communication with the outside world would be heavily filtered before being admitted through to the bunker’s occupants.
Noa’s eyes were drawn to the units racked at the back of the bunker.
* * * * *
The next day, Noa was interrupted by a ping from the bunker’s messaging system. He looked up in momentary disorientation and caught his reflection in the steel surface of the console across from him. He scowled at himself as the ping came once more.
He hadn’t looked this bad since he and his wife had stayed up for seventy-two hours to watch over Khela when she was only two and they had nearly lost her to an accident.
His black hair, with its wings of grey at the temples, looked as if it could use a washing, and his white shirt, sleeves rolled midway up his arms—made of nano-free material—couldn’t possibly look more wrinkled.
Well, there is no help for it, he thought. Whoever it is will simply have to excuse my disheveled state of dress.
Moments later, Assistant Director Ann Henrick stared back at Noa over a carefully sandboxed and secured holo, her expression one of annoyance. The sandboxed signal had a maddening delay, he knew, but the AD would just have to live with it; Noa refused to accept a connection of any other kind. Seated around her were Galene’s joint chiefs of staff.
“After debriefing the Joint Chiefs just now—and after your unannounced departure from the ring,” she stated with a scowl as she narrowed her gaze at him, “we decided we had a few additional questions for you.”
Noa simply stared back without responding until, in annoyance, one of the joint chiefs spoke up.
“We would like to know what motivated you to leave Ring Galene, doctor, especially at such a critical juncture. Our analysts tell us you have sequestered yourself behind some sort of—” and here, the man glanced off-screen, as if for verification of a term he was unused to wielding, “sandboxed shielding.”
At Noa’s nod, the man continued.
“It would appear that you believe the situation to be a bit more critical than Doctor deSangro. That being the case, we want to hear from you first-hand: what do you believe is the best way to stop this nanophage?”
Noa drew in a long breath, and then inclined his head toward the man. He lifted a small shielded box with warning labels displayed on its surfaces, declaring ‘Danger! EMP’.
“As you know, devices like this can eradicate nano in small quantities. If we were dealing with a very finite, limited situation, these would work. But in larger swaths, it would take a massive electromagnetic bu
rst to kill it, and that would not be advisable.”
Another one of the joint chiefs shuddered. “No,” the woman said hastily. “That would not be a good idea. EM could damage critical structures here on the ring. It would damage human tissue, as well.”
“Indeed it would. An EMP of that magnitude would generate enough heat within any mods embedded inside a person’s brain—such as the Link interface—to cause intense pain,” Noa concurred. “Not to mention the possibility of irreparable brain damage. No, as pervasive as this nano is, it’s too dangerous to consider.”
He paused a moment, then added, “I think the smartest course of action would be for you to ask the news nets to urge people to voluntarily expunge all personal nano. It may mean going back to the old ways—at least for a while—but until we are able to figure out a way to contain this, it’s the safest course. At least until we are able to erase, reformat or eradicate all corrupted nano.”
Assistant Director Henrick tapped the hyfilm stack she had set before her and gazed at him, her expression calculating. “Noa, we’re planning to move those who have been contaminated down to the planet’s surface temporarily, where they won’t run the risk of infecting any critical part of the ring. I would assume you have no objections to that?”
Noa forced himself to sit and give her question another long moment of consideration before he responded. “I had heard rumors that you were considering such a move,” he began slowly, “and I suppose that it couldn’t do any harm….”
Henrick nodded. “Very well.” She glanced over at one of her analysts as she gave him additional instructions. “Be sure that, when you set up the quarantine planetside, you ensure there’s a no-man’s-land between those contaminated and the elevators. Once downside, they cannot return to the ring until we give the all-clear.”
Noa recoiled mentally at that news as he watched the analyst nod and rise to carry out her orders. He reached to disconnect the comm, but the AD held up a restraining hand.
“Doctor,” she began, and then turned as another analyst ushered Reya deSangro into the room.
Henrick turned back to the holo as Reya took a seat next to her. “I wanted you to know that we’ve asked Doctor deSangro to begin experimenting on a few of the infected AIs, in order to find a solution for the corrupted base code that makes all inorganic sentients here in Tau Ceti carriers of this infection.”
Noa’s head shot up in alarm. “Experiment on AIs? That’s—”
“Sanctioned, Noa,” Henrick said calmly. “And of course, Reya will only take volunteers.”
Noa’s eyes met Reya’s, and he knew with sudden certainty that she would be experimenting on AIs regardless of their consent. He returned his gaze to the AD’s face and swallowed at the hard expression of the woman who stared back at him, as she added softly, “I see we understand each other, Noa. Good.”
DIRE NEWS
STELLAR DATE: 04.07.3246 (Adjusted Gregorian)
LOCATION: ESS Avon Vale
REGION: 5,700 AU and six months out from Tau Ceti
True stasis is definitely the way to travel, but it’s nice to have that final stint behind me, Terrance thought as awareness returned. He blinked, bringing the overhead in focus, before sitting up and glancing around.
Marta looked down at him with a smile and returned her attention to her left arm, where she was studying the readouts on her medical sleeve. Terrance was pleased to note it was one of the newer Enfield models, which provided on-the-spot diagnostic scanning as well as a generous supply of powerful triage mednano.
He was particularly proud of the work Enfield Dynamics had done on that tech, and had made sure the ship had some on hand for their journey. Not only would they prove to be valuable trade items, but they also ensured Marta’s medical teams had access to the latest medicine that Enfield’s companies could provide—although he couldn’t tell at a glance which model she had selected for her own use.
“Kodi, you with us?” she queried as she began her scan, stepping out of the way so Terrance could stand.
Startled, he realized he hadn’t felt the AI’s presence inside his mind since right before they entered stasis—but just as he began to feel the first stirring of panic, the soldier’s presence slipped into his awareness.
Kodi sent a wave of amusement as Terrance turned his attention back to Marta.
“Everything okay, doc?” he asked the woman, and she smiled up at him as she responded.
“Right as rain, gentlemen.” She made a shooing motion with her hand. “Now off with you; I have about two thousand people waiting to be reawakened.”
* * * * *
Hours later, Terrance looked around with a sense of satisfaction at the command team, seated around the table in the officers’ mess, just off the bridge.
Nice way to break a ten-year fast, he thought. Good food, with good people.
He’d asked Jonesy to do the honors, since the man had taken such a shine to cultivating fresh foodstuffs. The engineer served up freshly grilled, tank-raised mahi-mahi with a mango chutney sauce.
Not to be outdone, Terrance had proven he knew his way around the kitchen by doing some fancy knife work on some of the fresh vegetables Jonesy had grown in one of the hydroponics bays. Logan was looking at the dish of chutney sauce in bemusement. Terrance saw him eventually dip a finger in it at Beck’s request, and offer it down to the cat to sniff.
“Stop that!” Calista said, slapping Logan’s hand away as she walked by, passing out plates. “Anybody ever explain to you the difference between human food and cat food?”
Toby chuffed from her position by the bulkhead, where she wouldn’t be trod on by human or humanoid feet.
With that, she padded over to the table and began to sidle up to the fish platter Jonesy had just delivered.
“Oh no you don’t,” Jason warned as he slid the platter closer to the center of the table.
Landon arrived and grabbed seats for himself and his twin at one end of the table, just as Marta set a large pitcher filled with a light green liquid down at the other end. Calista followed with a tray of glasses, each one rimmed with salt and sporting a slice of lime.
Terrance saw Jason’s brow rise, and the XO cocked his head, shooting him a look. “Is the boss green-lighting the margaritas?” Jason asked with a grin.
Calista smirked. “Doctor’s orders,” she stated innocently.
Marta shook her head with a wry half-smile. “With the graphic nature of all the news coming out of Tau Ceti, you’re damn straight it’s doctor’s orders.” She looked pointedly at Terrance, her demeanor challenging him to countermand her statement.
Terrance slid the platter of roasted vegetables onto the table alongside the fish, then raised his hands in the universal gesture of innocence. “Don’t look at me,” he flashed a grin. “I’m with Marta on this. Didn’t Napoleon once say, ‘a good army marches on full bellies’?”
Jason clutched at his stomach at that. “Oh no, say it isn’t so,” the XO said dramatically. “Starvation in the ranks!”
Calista twirled the kitchen towel into a rope and whipped its end at him right before she slid a plate of soft corn tortillas onto the table alongside the platters of fish and vegetables.
As she plopped herself into the chair next to Jason, she grinned. “I don’t know about you, flyboy
, but I’m not going hungry—not today, at least,” she declared, reaching for a tortilla and the serving spoon to heap vegetables onto her first fajita.
“Food first, then the action plan,” Terrance stated as he took a seat. “But hustle, people. Wouldn’t want those who don’t need food to grow impatient.”
They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, folding fajitas and drinking margaritas. After they were done, Terrance leaned back.
“Shannon, want to join us?”
The engineer’s avatar blinked into existence at the end of the table, and Terrance wondered if that was a wistful glance he’d seen the AI cast toward the remnants of food and drink scattered among the empty plates on the table, before she caught him looking at her and sent him a look that dared him to call her on it. He raised his hands in a placating gesture and then asked Kodi to pull up the messages he’d culled from the signals coming out of Galene.
Kodi tossed them up onto the mess hall’s holo, and as the stream began to play, suddenly the congenial atmosphere morphed into something much more grave, as each individual registered exactly what had transpired in Tau Ceti.
Terrance was sure the expressions he saw on the faces of those around him mirrored his own horror. Nanophage. Stars.
“It sounds as if they believe it’s just a pocket of assembler nano gone wonky, and it’s localized to an area around the spaceport?” Calista queried, her voice hopeful, but Shannon shook her head at the ship’s executive officer.
“Not a good place to have nano proliferating,” the AI countered, and Jonesy nodded his agreement.
”Not unconstrained, no,” the engineer replied, crossing his arms and leaning back in his seat with a frown.
Logan gestured as the holowall display, changed to that of a map of Ring Galene’s spaceport. “The reports Kodi intercepted indicate corrupted nano in these locations. Time-stamps show this progression.”