“That is harder. The Anderson Universal crew has access to all areas of this ship. Aside from the leaseholder’s quarters.”
And wasn’t that a strange thing to consider? If I wanted to hide from Anderson Universal employees, all I had to do was stay home with Dad. But if I wanted to hide from Dad, who could twist the arm of the captain with ease, there was nowhere the Anderson Universal crew wouldn’t find me.
“Why do you need to hide, Adi?” Aquila tried again.
“It’s a game,” I said, lying with a little too much ease for my liking. “You’ve heard of ‘Hide and Seek’ before, haven’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Well, this is like that, but for grown-ups. So, the hiding places have to be really good. Can you think of any like that?”
“I do not like this game, Adi,” Aquila said.
“You could hide with me.”
“I am already everywhere.”
“Except the leaseholder’s quarters,” I muttered.
“Yes, except there.”
Ratbag had gone back to sleep. I sighed and stared out of the window.
So vast, so big, and yet nowhere to hide in it.
“You could hide in the medical bay,” Aquila suddenly said.
“That’s open to all passengers onboard the ship,” I countered.
“Some require permission to be on that deck first.You don’t.”
“What else is on that deck?”
“The launch bays, gymnasium, officers’ mess, and senior officers’ quarters.”
“Not exactly a low traffic zone, then.”
“No. I suppose it is not.”
I shook my head, feeling sleepy. I hadn’t slept a wink last night, but the adrenaline had worn off, and the fear had become a muted background noise, and now my eyelids were drooping.
“You could hide with me,” Aquila said.
“With you? You said you’re everywhere,” I offered with a wide yawn that cracked my jaw.
Ratbag huffed at the painful sound but didn’t open his eyes to glare at me.
“My centre is within the computer core, Adi,” Aquila said. “You could hide there. Access is heavily restricted.”
Sleep sloughed off me as I considered the AI’s words.
“Where’s the computer core?” I asked.
“I will tell you if you tell me why you wish to hide.”
Sneaky AI.
I shook my head, but what did I have to lose? My father spent most of his time in his quarters, where he couldn’t converse directly with Aquila even if he wanted to. The mayor could find out. But even though the mayor repulsed me, I didn’t fear him like I did my father. To have a place to go that the leaseholder security guards couldn’t find me, and only a select few Anderson Universal crew ever went, was pure gold.
The risk, I thought right then, was worth it.
I whispered, “My father is a dangerous man, Aquila.” Then checked over my shoulder, belatedly worried I’d been overheard.
I was alone in the observation deck lounge, though. Alone except for Aquila and a sleeping Ratbag.
“Adi, he is your father. He poses no danger to you.”
My head shook. A tear threatened to spill.
“Oh, Aquila,” I said. “He’s a danger to everyone, especially me.”
I thought about it. For a moment, I was sure I wouldn’t say a thing. But then my mouth opened and the words came out.
One way or another, I’d just sealed my fate by betraying the man who had fathered me.
“And the ship, Aquila,” I said. “He’s a danger to you, too. Not just to me.”
The gel wall pulsed red for a brief moment, which was not something I had seen Aquila do previously. It made me nervous. Aquila was just a computer. Highly evolved and interactive to the extreme, but a computer. Would he take the threat seriously? Too seriously? Maybe I had more to be scared of than just my dad.
I reached down to pick up the datapad I’d brought with me but not used. I couldn’t read a book when I felt so troubled. And then I made a move to stand, to get out of there quickly. Not that I could outrun an AI who was everywhere onboard the ship, except the one place I least wanted to be. I cuddled Ratbag, pressing my baby against my chest carefully. Trying to decide what to do.
It all felt too hopeless.
“Adi,” Aquila finally said. The gel wall had turned back to green, thankfully. I still felt like a startled rabbit. “I have keyed your biometric signature to the computer core section of Deck C. If you need a place to hide, use it. I will protect you.”
A sob escaped me. I clamped down hard on the next.
“Thank you, Aquila,” I rasped.
“It is part of my subroutines,” the AI explained. “To protect.”
I let out a little hysterical laugh.
“Yeah, of course, it is.”
Then I headed toward the central hub and Mandy.
First things first. I had to warn my friend. Take care of Ratbag. And then make sure I knew how to get to the computer core on Deck C. And then I had to pack a bag.
I was going into hiding.
Six
It’s Just Business
Hugo
The captain nodded his head grimly as he read my tactical recommendations.
“This is very thorough, Lieutenant Commander,” he said. “I think we’ll go with Action Plan Alpha. It provides an adequate amount of cover over the maximum number of potential outcomes.”
He placed his thumbprint beside the plan in question, approving it. And then handed the datapad back to me and added, “Execute on my orders.”
“Yes, Captain.”
I saluted and spun on my heel, walking across the bridge directly to Lieutenant Drake. The chief security officer straightened upon spotting my trajectory.
“Sir?” he said as I neared his station.
“New orders,” I said. “Execute Action Plan Alpha without delay.”
The lieutenant scanned the detailed security and response plan I’d spent the better part of last night outlining. I lacked sleep in a big way, but I felt a damn sight better now that I knew we would be prepared for any possible attack on command.
“Understood, sir,” he said, looking as grim as the captain right then. He looked back down at the datapad as if he couldn’t believe what he was reading.
“Lieutenant?” I queried. Better to get any confusion out of the way now, before we were neck deep in the action plan and someone was hurling plasma in our faces.
“Sir?” he said, uncertainly. And then he rushed to say, “Is there really a chance that someone will mutiny?”
“I don’t know about a mutiny, Drake,” I said. “More likely a civilian revolt, but we can’t be sure. Something’s definitely going on, though.” I tapped the datapad I’d given him with the approved plan on it. “This is precautionary.”
He nodded his head.
“Understood, sir. I’ll personally deliver the individual orders to my team.”
“Very good,” I replied and returned to my station.
Everything else looked in order, and although Aquila hadn’t been able to trace the origin of the corruption code yet, he had told us at the beginning of first shift that he was getting closer. We expected an answer to that mystery within the hour.
In the meantime, we were taking precautions.
“Aquila,” I said, as I watched the chief of security close his station and turn towards the door to the bridge.
He’d get the ball moving without anyone outside of the command structure aware that we were mobilising for defence of the flight deck, core personal and essential systems.
It took a second for me to realise that Aquila had not answered.
I flicked a glance down at my station. Everything seemed in order. No alarms.
“Aquila?” I tried again.
The screen flickered. My head whipped around toward Lieutenant Drake as he approached the bridge door.
It was like watching an action movie. Ev
erything slowed down, so every single detail came into sharp focus. I could hear the thump of my heart in my chest, the rush of blood through my ears. Taste something metallic on my tongue.
Lieutenant López was the first officer, other than myself, to register a problem.
“Captain?” she called out as Drake activated the bridge door.
We weren’t armed. None of us was. Not yet. It was part of the action plan, and by the time security had been activated by Drake, the bridge would have been ready.
But Drake was standing by the now opening bridge door, and we hadn’t had time to release the locks on the bridge armoury.
As prepared as we could have been, given a few more minutes, at that moment we were entirely unprotected.
The captain turned away from the discussion he was having with Commander Lawrence.
The first plasma shot hit him in the forehead.
López screamed. My mouth ran dry.
A knife pierced Lieutenant Drake’s right eye.
Commander Lawrence dived to the side. The plasma shot hit her left knee, obliterating the bone and flesh, and leaving her leg hanging on by bloody tendon strings. She screamed. It would haunt my nightmares.
Three, four, eight, ten Price security officers, in full armour, stormed the bridge. Plasma pistols aimed at all of our heads. López was crying. Johnson at the helm had his hands up. Armstrong at navigation was doing the same. Lawrence was moaning on the floor beneath the main viewscreen.
An armoured man stomped across the bridge and looked down at the commander. And then he casually lifted his plasma gun and shot her in the head.
I jerked. Someone screamed. A plasma gun pressed into my side.
“Arms up,” a mechanised voice said.
I raised them slowly, looking into a mirrored faceplate on a merc helmet that showed me absolutely nothing I wanted to see.
Cowards.
Minutes. That’s all we’d needed. Minutes to activate the plan fully. To arm the bridge crew. To have security outside in the corridor. Minutes.
We’d had seconds. And it was over. The command chain fractured.
I stared at the commander and captain, who lay side by side, staring blankly at the gel ceiling.
“Aquila,” I whispered and received a punch to my kidneys with the butt of the armoured guard’s rifle at my side.
“No talking,” he snarled.
I tried to breathe.
The guard who had shot Commander Lawrence turned to look at each of us, and then activated the main viewscreen. On it, across Decks A through E, a similar outcome was being effected. Every single command officer of each of the three watches were lying dead. Plasma shot to the forehead. In engineering, the chief lay in a pool of blood, a power torch in his hand.
He’d tried to fight back.
I felt sick. López was trying not to cry too loudly. Johnson looked green.
“This is how things will go,” the armoured man standing over the captain and commander said. “You’ll not resist us, and we won’t be forced to kill you. Life is precious,” he said, ignoring the death that surrounded him. “We value it. But we are prepared to end it if necessary.”
He took his time looking at each one of us.
“There is no first shift any longer,” he said. “There is no second or third. You work for Nathan Price now.”
Jesus Christ, it was the leaseholder. Why?
“Those of you holding the rank of second lieutenant or higher will be escorted to the brig.”
I felt hollow. I should have done something. Anything. I should have fought back.
“Those of you holding the rank of midshipman will be confined to quarters.”
López had stopped crying. She stared straight ahead unseeing.
I tried to catch Johnson’s eye. He resolutely looked elsewhere.
I checked the position of the pistol the armoured guard was holding at my side. I could reach for it. Take out him and maybe two others. I could try and get the ringleader. The one who had shot Lawrence and probably had shot the captain.
But then I’d be dead, and the real threat to the ship and the fleet would still be alive.
Nathan Price. The leaseholder.
“Any questions?” the head guard asked. “Good,” he added before anyone could even open their mouths. Not that we had the will to right then. “Your new accommodations are waiting. To ensure a safe transit from here to there, we’ll require you wear wrist restraints. Nothing personal. It’s just business.”
He chuckled. It sounded eerie coming from his armour’s speakers. The rest of the guards started laughing too.
A pack of mechanised hyenas. I clenched my fists.
The guard beside me slapped a wrist restraint on one wrist, cinching it hard.
“Don’t feel too bad, Lieutenant Commander,” he said, wrenching my other arm behind my back to secure it. “You didn’t do anything foolish and get yourself killed. There’s hope for you yet.”
He shoved me between the shoulder blades. I could hear his plasma gun whirring again.
My eyes scanned the bridge. I tried to see if the captain was still breathing. Naively praying he was faking it. He wasn’t. Neither was the commander. Moore, Lawrence and Drake were dead.
I realised as the guards marched us out of the bridge, no more than five minutes after they’d arrived, that I was now the highest ranking officer among us.
And then my stomach revolted, and bile surged up my gullet.
I was now the highest ranking officer onboard the ship.
Seven
Walkies!
Adi
“All passengers will proceed to their quarters immediately,” Aquila said over the ship-wide comms.
I glanced at the gel wall beside me. It was red. For some reason, that colour scared me. I’d never seen red like this before on the walls. And it pulsed slightly. As if a heartbeat. No, not a heartbeat, I thought. But a war drum.
“Failure to comply with this directive,” the AI said, “will result in…punishment.”
What the hell?
“Aquila?” I said, still staring at the gel wall. “What’s going on?”
He didn’t answer. But he did still issue orders over the ship-wide comm.
“You have five minutes to comply with this directive. Anyone seen outside their quarters after this time has passed will suffer the consequences.”
For a shocked second, no one did a thing.
And then the screaming started. Panicked cries for loved ones. People arguing with each other. Others running for their quarters. But some stood defiantly where they were. Arms crossed and belligerent expressions on their faces.
‘It’s a hoax,” someone said.
“It’s the AI. AIs don’t hoax.”
“A drill then.”
“If it’s a drill, shouldn’t we be doing what it says?”
“Not if it’s not real.”
“And if it is real? I don’t want to stick around and find out what the consequences are. Do you?”
I peered out into the central hub where all the shouting and panic was mainly. No one was running down the corridor that led to the observation deck and cinemas where I was standing. Too early for entertainment like that. But the stalls had been set up already in the central hub.
I could see Mandy standing at hers. She looked worried but also determined to lock her stall before she left it. Within seconds, she’d closed the sides, keying them shut, and was walking swiftly toward the lifts. Mandy was a pay-for-passage, and her rooms were down on Deck H. I wondered briefly what her history was. I’d never asked, and it felt like I’d failed at being a friend to her. But what made her so calm when others were screaming?
I realised I was still standing out in the open. Still thinking of Mandy’s reaction and still watching those stubborn or confused few people who were standing out in the central hub.
“One minute,” Aquila said.
Something was wrong. Aquila wasn’t the most expressive conve
rsationalist at the best of times, but something didn’t sound quite right in his voice. I couldn’t pinpoint it, but I suddenly thought being the leaseholder’s daughter might not protect me.
I had planned to return to our quarters, grab a bag of supplies and Ratbag’s things and then head to the computer core. But now I was undecided. Returning to our quarters might be the last thing I did. Oh, my father wouldn’t kill me. Ratbag, though, I wasn’t so sure. And then there was that ‘business contract’ with the mayor.
No. The leaseholder quarters and Deck A were out. But where to now?
I glanced around the central hub. A few more people had caved and were running to their quarters. Three men still stood out in the open. Defiant to the last.
I understood their reasoning. We’d never had a drill like this. We had rules to follow, for safety and when transitioning. But I hadn’t heard anything about surprise drills where we were told not following would lead to consequences.
The lift doors chimed in the central hub. I stepped back, out of direct line of sight, and crouched down. Bringing Ratbag in close to me, I whispered, “Quiet, boy. Not a sound.”
Then I peered around the corner of the corridor.
“Time is up,” Aquila said. I frowned. He sounded excited, but that couldn’t be.
Four of my father’s security detail came out, Price Enterprises logos on their chests. But they were dressed in a way I had never before seen. Was that military grade armour? I shook my head. None of this made any sense.
The guards stomped across the gel floor, which shouldn’t have sounded as ominous as it did. All four had raised their plasma rifles and were pointing them at the men still standing in the centre of the courtyard.
“You have been instructed to return to your quarters,” one of the guards said.
“Who the hell are you to tell us what to do?” one man growled.
The guard approaching him didn’t reply. He simply shot him in the forehead.
I gasped, but the protests from the other passengers thankfully drowned out the sound. In my shock, I squeezed Ratbag a little too tight. He whined and licked my face. I let the breath of air out I’d been holding, and eased up on my grip; soothing him to stop his whining.
Zenith Point (The Sector Fleet, Book 4) Page 4