The guard smirked at me.
“As your father commands, Ms Price,” he said, making it known that he followed the leaseholder’s orders and not mine.
I lifted my chin and slapped my palm against the bioscanner, then stepped in through the doors when they opened. I waited for them to shut at my back before I let out a disgruntled breath of air; albeit quietly.
Ahead, I could hear my father and the mayor talking. They were already seated at the dining table, then. I could have done what the guard had told me to do and go and change my clothing. But I was already late. I either made it worse, or I got this over with.
I sucked in a fortifying breath of air and started down the corridor. Father’s office door was open, but no one was in there. I kept walking, aware my steps were slowing. I scowled at my recalcitrant feet and then stopped just before the dining room door, trying to find what was left of my battered courage.
“I can just picture the bridge crew chasing their tails over this,” the mayor’s distinctive voice said.
“As long as they don’t trace it back to us,” my father growled.
“If the AI can’t, then they can’t.”
“Are you sure the code was undetected?”
“Absolutely. I masked it in a systems failure that would have required 88% of the AI’s computing power to prevent a disaster.”
“Playing with the air filtration system again, Jacob?”
“It worked last time. It only takes a split second of distraction to get in and then get out again afterwards. Simon Anderson wasn’t as clever as so many think.”
My hand came out and rested against the gel wall. A gel wall that never changed colour, I realised. I had wondered why the AI always waited to talk to me when I stepped out of our quarters. Now, I had my answer. So the leaseholder could plot unobserved.
Just what the hell were my father and his toady playing at?
“In any case,” the mayor said in superior tones, “they won’t be able to fix it without pulling the jump point beacon apart. And they won’t think of doing that until it’s too late for the others.”
“You better be right about that. Timing is everything.”
“Trust me.”
“I trust no one. Unless I can buy them, of course.”
“And you have bought me, Mr Price. For better or for worse.”
“That I have.”
Ratbag chose that moment to scratch his nose. I sucked in a breath of startled air knowing what came next and reached down to stop him. But it was too late. The little sneeze echoed in the silent pause of conversation. I grimaced.
A glass clinked as it hit the table.
“Adriana?” my father snapped.
I turned my face away from the door’s opening and called, “Hi! Sorry, I’m late.” And then faked a few steps, as if I was still back by the front door to the quarters before I walked into the dining room.
The mayor stood upon my arrival. My father didn't.
“You’re not dressed,” he said.
I looked down at my clothes and tugged on my trousers. “All pertinent parts are covered. I promise.”
Father scowled while the mayor checked. Creep.
“Sit then, if this is the best you can do,” my father snapped.
Relieved at having avoided an all-out yelling match, I forgot about Ratbag.
I sat in the chair farthest from both of them as Ratbag sniffed around the bottom of my father’s trousers. In a movement too quick for me to react to, he kicked out with his foot and sent Ratbag flying.
I gasped and made a move to go after my dog when my father’s hand came down on my arm and gripped it tightly.
“Sit!” he snarled as if I were the dog, not Ratbag.
I sat. My heart in my throat. Tears threatening to fill my eyes.
I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. And I sure as hell would not show weakness in front of the mayor. That man loved to hunt his prey when they were wounded.
Ratbag curled up in a pitiful ball in the corner of the room, whimpering quietly.
I fisted my hand. But my father noticed my reaction. He smiled. It was chilling.
“I have a proposition for you, daughter,” he said. “As it seems you require incentive to act appropriately.”
I said nothing. The mayor looked positively gleeful.
“Your dog may live to see another day,” my father advised, “if you agree to one simple business contract.”
I raised my eyes to eyes that thankfully did not match mine and kept a neutral expression on my face.
“What would that be, Father?” I asked.
I’d get Ratbag out of here, and I’d take him to Mandy. She’d protect him. She’d love him in a way I had no hope of doing now. I knew my father. I knew his ultimatums were real. He never said a word he didn’t mean. And he never made a threat he didn’t intend to carry out if required. And I’d seen him carry out plenty.
I’d lost a lot of things in my life because of his threats being made real.
One of them was my mother.
My father smiled. His knowing smile.
“We understand each other, then,” he said. And then released my arm and reached for his glass of champagne. “A toast,” he offered.
The mayor poured wine into a spare glass for me and took great delight in making me reach farther than strictly necessary to accept it.
“To a successful negotiation,” my father said.
There had been no negotiation. Only his threat. And my acquiescence.
“And to ownership,” he added.
“To ownership,” the mayor repeated, downing his glass and staring at me with a look that I did not much like.
“Drink,” my father ordered. “Drink it all.”
It wasn’t a large glass, so the threat this time was easy to ignore. I downed the champagne and placed it back on the table with nonchalance.
“Congratulations, Jacob,” my father said to the mayor. “You may kiss your future bride.”
What?
Four
Was This The Start Of A Revolution?
Hugo
We’d been on duty for sixteen hours. Third shift had replaced second an hour ago. But still, first shift bridge crew worked on the jump point problem.
Worked on it without little success to show for the gruelling effort.
“Aquila,” Captain Moore called. “Run a diagnostic on the weapons firing system.”
“Yes, Captain,” Aquila said. Even the AI sounded tired.
Or that was just me, and I was hearing things.
The weapons systems firing solutions were used to fire the jump point beacons into space. It was something I should have suggested twelve hours ago. I rubbed a hand across my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose.
As Chief Tactical Officer, it should have been the first thing I checked. Frustration gnawed at my insides as I accepted the captain’s unspoken reprimand. I straightened my spine and looked at what Aquila was reporting.
“Firing solutions systems are operating within normal parameters,” I announced.
The fact that there wasn’t a problem there didn’t mean I’d failed to do my job to its fullest.
I felt a little ill at that.
“All right,” Captain Moore said. “We start all over again. Run ship-wide diagnostics, Aquila.”
“Yes, Captain.”
No one objected. Our lives and the lives of those in our fleet, not to mention the three fleets that followed behind us, depended on us working this out. But we needed to look at this from a different angle. So far we’d meticulously gone over anything that related to jumping. If nothing obvious had appeared the first time we ran diagnostics on the appropriate systems, then the fault was likely not obvious.
Or, I thought frantically, it was not connected to the various jump systems directly. Maybe a different system that intersected one of the jump's systems on rare occasions. Or, my mind reluctantly supplied for me, an essential system that diverted Aquila
’s attention long enough for the fault to be actioned and the evidence to be masked before Aquila even knew what had hit him.
It would take a power-hungry critical system to achieve that. These AIs were capable of carrying out hundreds, if not thousands, of tasks simultaneously.
And there was only one system that could disrupt that.
I searched through the log for the life support system and found it within minutes of starting.
I stood before my station and stared at the line of code that had disrupted the air filtration system to such a degree that Aquila had to divert power and bypass all non-essential systems to correct it. The code had been recorded automatically; a subroutine that Aquila did not need to monitor. If he searched deep enough, he would have found it. And he was likely to find it in the ship-wide diagnostics he was running.
But I’d found it first. And I did not like the thought processes that had brought me to this conclusion.
I noted the timestamp and then brought the log up for the jump’s various systems. I found a match in the jump point beacon’s subroutines. The jump failed because the beacon failed, and the best way to make that happen would be to disrupt the beacon’s activation or action subroutines.
With a sickening stomach, I found the corruption. It had been hidden well and would likely have been overlooked if you didn’t know the exact time the hack had occurred.
I stared at the two anomalies side by side and knew this was not a natural occurrence.
“Captain,” I said. There must have been something in the tone of my voice because both the captain and the first officer approached my station immediately.
I met Captain Moore’s eyes; aware Commander Lawrence was already reading the data on my screen.
“I’ve found an anomaly that distracted Aquila; long enough to allow someone to hack the beacon’s subroutines and cover their tracks afterwards.”
Captain Moore held my gaze a moment longer and then looked down at the logs I’d brought up, and the lines of code and date stamps I’d highlighted.
He said nothing for a moment.
Then, “Aquila. Can you trace these codes?”
“I am trying, Captain. But they are complex and will take some time.”
“If we correct the anomaly now,” Moore asked, “will the person or persons responsible know we’re on to them?”
“I believe so, Captain. There is a complicated triggering algorithm attached to both codes.”
“They booby-trapped them?” Commander Lawrence murmured, horrified.
“The trigger system is complicated, Commander,” Aquila said. “But its purpose is simple. It would activate an alarm.”
“Where?” the captain demanded.
“Unknown. I can confirm the signal is not powerful enough to make it off the ship.”
“So, this is a localised threat,” Moore said, looking at his first officer.
“At least we can assume it’s origin is localised, sir,” she replied. “But the sphere of its influence is much larger than just this ship.”
“Because no other ship in the fleet can jump without us,” Moore concluded.
“Why would they want to stop us jumping?” I asked.
Moore shook his head. “Too many variables.”
He looked back down at my viewscreen.
“This stays on the bridge,” he said. “We do not touch those codes until Aquila has been able to trace their origin and we’ve found the culprit.”
“Yellow alert, Captain?” Lawrence asked.
Moore thought about that for a moment.
“It would send a message that may tip them off,” he reluctantly said. “We’ve been stood down from yellow alert for two shifts now, to raise our status would be, I fear, too obvious.”
“Yes, sir.”
Captain Moore looked at me and nodded his head.
“Good work, Lieutenant Commander,” he said. “That was some devious thinking. We’ll make a captain out of you yet.”
“Captains think deviously, sir?” I asked.
He grinned at me. “Every damn day, son.”
He returned to his command chair and then said aloud, “Stand down first shift. Report to your stations at 0700 hours tomorrow. Third shift. You have the bridge.”
It was going to take Aquila some time to trace those codes. Perhaps as long again as we’d been on duty. It made sense to stand us down. But I disliked the knowledge that we hadn’t rectified the problem before the captain dismissed us. We had, though, completed his orders. We knew why this jump failed.
At least, we knew what had caused its failure. We didn’t, I corrected myself as I walked off the bridge dog-tired, know why someone had tampered with the jump in the first place.
What possible reason could they have to prevent us from reaching New Earth? Everyone onboard this vessel, and I warranted all of the others, wanted desperately to reach our destination and start rebuilding what we’d lost.
So, why had someone stopped us from getting there? Was it for blackmail purposes? Hold us to ransom over the malfunctioning beacon? A pay-for-passage passenger that wanted to claim a better place for themselves in our new society before we got there? Was this the start of a revolution?
I was sure Captain Moore was thinking of all these possible explanations and of much more I hadn’t yet had the gall to consider. But no yellow alert meant no extra security. I assumed the captain would speak with the chief of security before retiring. But it wasn’t my place to follow up on such things and to second guess our commanding officer.
So, with reluctance, I tried to clear my mind of the captain’s responsibilities and concentrated on my own. Tactical. If we were about to contend with some form of passenger revolt, we needed an action plan.
I skipped the mess hall and went straight to my quarters. At the very least, I’d have a report to give Captain Moore by 0700. And a plan of action for every possible scenario I could think of.
That didn’t involve standing us at yellow alert.
Five
Yeah, Of Course It Is
Adi
Ratbag let out a little snort-snuffle and settled a little deeper into my lap. He had bruised ribs, I was sure, but nothing appeared broken. He’d looked at me when I’d finally made my escape from that disastrous luncheon, as though I’d failed to protect him.
The fact that I felt like I had failed to protect him only made me madder.
I stared out of the Habitat Two observation deck’s massive windows and saw nothing of the splendour of space. The sun in this system was somewhere behind us, so all I could see were stars for miles and miles and miles. Or whatever measure of distance was used by starships and spacemen who fly them.
I’d come here after Father had fallen asleep in the wee hours of the morning. Using the emergency access tubes to avoid the leaseholder security force that patrolled Deck A and the leaseholder’s quarters, I’d made slow progress, but managed to stay hidden and safe.
Safe, I thought, was a relative term. So much could influence it. Right now, nothing felt safe.
I stared down at Ratbag, knowing by morning I’d have to hide him away with Mandy in her florist’s shop. On Deck G, there was some chance that he wouldn’t be found by my father’s men. But I knew reality was so very different to our hopes and dreams.
Ratbag would never again be safe.
And neither was I.
I wallowed in self-pity for a while longer. I couldn’t tell how long I’d been sitting there, but as the observation deck’s lighting started to slowly brighten as shipboard daytime closed in, I knew it had to be hours.
And I knew I had to fight this. Fight my father. Not just for Ratbag. Nor for me. But because of what I’d overheard and the fact that we still hadn't jumped yet. I knew I had to fight this for the ship, for those onboard and in the fleets.
For humanity.
But I wasn’t a superhero. I was a privileged, reasonably well educated young woman of twenty. My life had barely begun back on Earth,
and here it was derailing all over again. I wished I dared to just go to my father and refuse him. But that wasn’t in me.
Ratbag didn’t deserve to be punished for my rebellion, though. And then there was Mandy. If I placed Ratbag in her care, my father would know. Mandy would have a target painted on her back in short order.
She possibly already did, I reluctantly conceded. Not much got past my father’s goons. If they knew to find me in the Habitat Two central hub, then they knew why I’d been there.
Mandy was already in danger for befriending me.
I lifted a thumb to my lips and chewed on the nail. As far as rebellions against my father went, it was pitiful.
My stomach rumbled. Ratbag opened one eye and stared at me, disgruntlement oozing off his cute, little nose.
What was I going to do? I couldn’t marry Jacob Logan. The mayor was repulsive and twice my age. I shuddered. Ratbag whined, placing his head on his paws and looking up at me.
“We’re screwed,” I whispered. “There’s nowhere to hide.”
“Why would you need to hide, Adi?” Aquila asked. The gel wall beside me started to softly glow a welcoming green.
“Hey, Aquila,” I said, running a hand down Ratbag’s back and making him close his eyes happily.
“Good morning, Adi. You are early.” Early to leave our quarters, I supposed.
“If I did need to hide,” I said to the AI, not commenting on why I was out and about so early. I couldn’t exactly say it was to watch the sunrise. “Would you tell me where the best places are onboard ship?”
“This vessel has many places one could choose to…hide in. But why do you need to hide, Adi?”
“Don’t worry about that,” I said, waving my hand in dismissal. Ratbag made a yipping sound, drawing my attention back to his neglected back rubbing.
I lowered my hand and scratched him softly. He snorted and resumed his pampering.
“Where could I hide, Aquila?” I asked. “Somewhere not even the Anderson Universal crew would find me.”
Zenith Point (The Sector Fleet, Book 4) Page 3