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Spinward Fringe Broadcast 13

Page 35

by Randolph Lalonde


  "I hope they don't appear outside of Order Space," Finn said.

  "That's where we encountered them first," Jake replied. "I have a feeling these guys will be a problem for everyone. Liara," Jake said, walking down to the communications section of the bridge. "I'm going to need your help. We're drafting a message to the Order of Eden. We're going to send the data we collected on these people and warn them."

  "Wait," Ashley said. "We should just leave them here, hope that these Raiders start messing them up."

  Jake brought up the incomplete scan they had of one of the Raider ships. "Look at it, half the ship is dedicated to weaponry or defence. The rest is reserved for launch craft including fighters and these combat shuttles. Power generation, communications, sensors, and the other essentials are all so well integrated that they take up almost no room. They don't have sleeping quarters from what we can tell from this scan, they don't have a leisure area, not even a galley."

  "Nor should there be one," Kadri said. "Haven Sciences confirms: the two-hundred-year-old android can survive on nine calories a day and doesn't have to recharge for two hundred hours. I'm sure the newer version's requirements are even lower. Oh, and they can survive in space for years."

  "The point I'm making is that these androids and their ships are made to fight. We have some simulations to run, and I'd like your help, Ash, but I bet one of those ships could take out a pair of Order destroyers without a scratch. We had to use more firepower than those same destroyers would have to scare one off."

  "So, the Order would get wrecked," Ashley said with a shrug. "We'd have a while to power up, get ready."

  "Maybe," Jake said. "But maybe not. We don't know how many of them there are. They could come after our tech while they pick a few things up from the Order, or just skip them entirely. If it were me, I'd steal their data and find out where I could find Haven Fleet tech. Ship to ship, we have the best technology by far, and if Lorander's people have trouble with these Raiders in another galaxy, then we're in trouble. My hope is that the Order of Eden gets distracted, puts the Raiders down or drives them out. It could give us a good opening. The better their chances are, the less we have to worry about these Raiders ourselves."

  "That makes sense," Ashley said. "Sorry Cap, I mean Admiral."

  "I think it's about time you started calling me Jake," he whispered as he passed by on his way to his quarters. "I'll see you and Minh at the end of your duty shift."

  Forty-Four

  Introductions

  * * *

  The smell of burnt electronics barely hid the stench of sweat and whatever else the variety of species that visited the Dark Room. It wasn't the kind of place Noah Lucas would go if he had a choice. All were not welcome. If someone was having too much fun, which included dancing, yelling, or drawing any attention to themselves, they were hushed by their friends. The whole place looked like thousands had been through there since it opened with a pile of broken chairs in the corner, booths made of hard plastic, tables that no amount of wiping would clean completely, and a pockmarked floor. He hoped he was stepping on snacks from the bar when he felt something crunching underfoot while he put his drink order in.

  If it were up to him, the bar would be clean, invite people who were there for a good time, have a dance floor and drink service that didn’t only offer pre-sealed manufactured beverages. Instead of flashy, flirty clothing people who went to the Dark Room were in spacer clothes or armour. He snickered to himself as he pictured a Sigren in a miniskirt. The creature had an oval torso with a head stalk, not a neck, and she didn't have arms, but three fingers that extended a metre from each side of her body with many joints. She did have legs, but they were larger versions of her arms, extending below from a hip that was split high up the middle. He could tell it was a female because she was missing the outrageously coloured fins along her neck and shoulders. The males were the flamboyant ones.

  Three Surge Gulp energy drinks in, and no one from the station or the resistance had so much as nibbled on the bait he threw out when he boarded. Noah knew he was being too obvious. Asking the security guard where the resistance met up was a bit like asking a cop where he could hire a hitman. Sure, there were cities where he'd get a straight answer if he dropped a few credits in the cop's palm, but it wasn't the best move. He was too clean and his armour didn't look like anything you could get on the open market. For anyone who knew, they could probably pick him out as someone from Haven Shore, the desertion story would only get him into more trouble if he started spreading it around too early. A man alone with all kinds of amazing tech could find himself cornered quickly.

  He still wanted to accomplish something while he waited for Alice to catch up, though. Noah looked forward to a reunion so much that he couldn't focus if he let himself think about it. Her advice would go a long way, he was sure, but that wasn't the main reason why he wanted her there. An apology was owed, and he wanted to see how things had changed since his breakup and turnabout. It was worrying, not knowing. For all he knew he could have smothered whatever magic they had.

  Shaking his head, he opened the last tall can of Surge Gulp. The stuff claimed to sharpen senses and keep energy levels high. It did so, but only just enough so he could tell. Noah drank it because it tasted like tangerine, not that he'd had one before, but that's the flavour that was written on the can. Noah sat back and looked at the bar's main attraction. A transparent section of the ceiling allowed the patrons to see the circle of white fire in the station's main fusion reactor. There was some kind of filter in place, otherwise it would be too bright to look at, but the light of the reactor illuminated most of the space.

  Noah was on the edge of the light. He avoided a bad move by choosing a seat that wasn't in shadow. Those darkened booths and tables in the far corners were great places to get trapped by a few heavily armed thugs. "You keep looking up at that," Elise said through his subdermal communicator. "Is it pretty?"

  "Yeah, I like it. It's not every day you can see a fusion reaction with the naked eye, even if it is through a metre and a half of transparesteel."

  "It's not a very efficient reaction, that's why the pattern of the flame is so random, with those white plumes and surges."

  "Beauty and efficiency don't always have much in common. One's subjective, the other isn't.," Noah replied.

  "Oh, a lot of things make more sense now. Alice is superficially beautiful, but her efficiency comes from smart work and preparation," Elise concluded. "Is her intelligence as attractive to you as her appearance?"

  "If we didn't get along, or I didn't like her attitude, I wouldn't find her very attractive at all," Noah said. "I've met really attractive people who were closed minded or mean and I just didn't see them as pretty anymore. I guess it depends on what you value, though. Like this place. It's a pit: dirty, the bartender is a row of vending machines, the people here aren't what I'd call social, and people don't have fun here."

  "The electronic noise is so bad there that I have to burst broadcast on the Z Band to get through to you," Elise added. "I suspect I'd lose contact with you entirely if they turned the reactor up."

  "Right, but if I start making good memories here and I keep coming back, then I could get attached to this place. This stinking pit could become like a second home," he said, leaning back in his chair.

  "Oh, so association can change perception. I'm capable of that, it's programmed in. I don't think I'd look at the Dark Room as anything but a noisy, disease ridden converted storage space, though."

  "Am I catching something here?" Noah asked.

  "You would be if it weren't for the nano-medical package in your breastbone. It's taken care of, though."

  "You mean there's no trace of the disease left, or I'm symptom free?" Noah asked, knowing that computerized medical systems didn't always have the same priorities as their patients.

  "Oh, the Nabaren Phage is completely gone. It's not that bad for humans, though. Once the affected area sloughs off the phage is gone. There a
re a couple other patrons who are in for a rough month or two when it really takes hold, though."

  "Maybe I should cut my losses, this place isn't as entertaining as I thought it would be," Noah said. As soon as he started standing, one of the better dressed patrons at the bar looked his way. Three of his fellows looked as well. They were the muscle, one of them moved like he had cybernetic enhancements from hips to fingertips. It was that too-smooth, computer assisted kind of motion he'd seen a few times. He sat back down, nodding at the well-dressed fellow in a coat that flared out at the bottom like a short cape. He was one of the cleaner people there, a lot of them sat at the bar or the tables nearby, and there was plenty of muscle around. "I think I have a bite."

  "I detect no parasites or insects interested in human. The radiation probably killed them," Elise replied.

  Noah made himself more at home in his seat. "I mean, someone's coming over to talk to me. It's either trouble or what I'm looking for."

  "Hey, there, Heavy," the well-dressed gentleman said, sitting down. His jacket parted enough to reveal a thin, skin coloured shirt that had the gleam of a dense, thin armoured under suit. It was better than a standard non-military vacsuit, but Noah had only ever seen one in videos. He wondered if they still cost hundreds of thousands of platinum.

  "I guess I deserve the nickname since I blasted two bots on my way through customs," Noah said, gesturing to the free seat across from him. "Most people call me Carnie."

  "Customs? You didn't give them a reading, not a look. You got past and came here. Better to check in at the Dark Room anyway. I call you Heavy because of that killer ship. Arcyn Starskipper that's not a Starskipper. Can't scan it, wouldn't dare try to crack it. Probably a better, new improved Starskipper. The Corsair," he finished with breathy reverence, spreading his hands out over his head as if he was putting the name up in lights.

  There was something familiar about that banter. Noah focused on how he sounded his words out carefully. The accent was off, and it sounded a little like he learned New English from advertising, not like most humans. "It's a special ship. What's your interest?"

  "Admiration," he said. "Administrator asked for me to get the data on you. There's not much news, no one's got a flash on you."

  "What is he saying?" Elise asked. "I was keeping up, then he lost me."

  Noah smiled a little at her confusion. His companion smiled back, leaning back in his chair. "Meaning no one knows where I'm from, where I got my tech, and you can't really guess why I'm here. A few people probably tried to make something up, though, right?"

  "Fake words for a greasy palm," the pretend human said. "I don't drop credit for bad news flashes."

  "Yeah, no fooling you, so you're coming to the source. I told that guard all I really care to. I'm looking to hook up with the resistance. Big, small, I don't care about the size of the group."

  "Resistance against the Order of Eden. Hate fate. That's what they say. Why do you want them?"

  "I'd like to help. I have some discount guns and other goods."

  "Big sale, today only!" the fellow said, grinning and laughing. "Guns! Guns! guns!"

  "Something like that," Noah nodded, wishing he wasn't the centre of attention for half the bar. "Only for the resistance."

  "I could be resistance, if there are low, low prices."

  "Okay," Noah sighed, letting all signs of amusement drain from his face. It was easy to play people like him. They watched every micro expression, studied human faces so they could pick up convincing tricks for their shapeshifting. He could be Issyrian, Tuzon, or a couple other shapeshifting races he'd heard of but never seen. It didn't matter which. If he showed obvious, increasing displeasure, he'd get a real reaction from the guy. "I knew this would happen. You'd pretend to be a three-legged dog if it would get you guns and information. If there's no reason for me to be here, I'll find the nearest airlock and get my ship to pick me up."

  "Whoa, Space Ranger," the fellow said, alarmed at the discussion turning sour. "I was just tickling your funny bone."

  There were several Space Ranger shows over the years, most of them were exaggerated comedies about a high tech adventurer, and Noah wondered how many episodes the creature across from him saw. "I'm all frothy ale and good times until you threaten to waste my summer home," he said, imitating the over-the-top heroic styling of the main character in an episode that was probably four times older than him. A tentacle alien was threatening to demolish a moon where Space Ranger had built a cabin by a lake.

  The shape changer across from Noah's eyes went too wide and he laughed with two voices at once before he regained his composure. "That episode was banned on most nets, too much talk about his hallucinogenic 'ale.' I thought I'd never meet anyone who saw it."

  "I'm a big Space Ranger fan, especially when he gets wacky on the good spice," Noah said, letting himself smile again. "You got a name, cadet?"

  "Rikan. I wheel and deal for the station," he said. "You have old Space Ranger episodes?"

  "I know a guy who has thousands," Carnie said, remembering that Remmy was his most recent source when he looked to replace a bunch of data he lost. "You must have your own collection, though."

  "I haven't seen Space Ranger since the fall. Mad bots cleared everything out, It was on a human network," he said.

  "Well, you hook me up with a contact for the real rebels and I'll set you up," Noah said.

  "I need something for the man," he said, pointing up.

  "The administrator needs to see you make a deal," Noah said, watching Rikan. "Let me talk to my associate." He closed his helmet and set it to opaque. Rikan's jaw dropped as he watched the plates rapidly move up and into place from Noah's collar. "I'm wondering, can our manufacturing bay make something like the bots I slagged?" he asked Elise.

  "I've scanned their security bots and we can print four an hour. I'd need some basic raw materials, but there are plenty of abandoned asteroids and other bodies around the system that would do. I could also make several improvements that wouldn't cost me anything."

  "So, storage is our biggest problem," he said.

  "Yes, we could fit twenty bots in the lower hold without interfering in operations down there. If we used quarters for storage we could fit another thirty-two, but that's with you sleeping on the bridge."

  "That's actually not bad. What's the price of those bots on system?"

  "Twenty-eight thousand platinum apiece reconditioned on average. There are no new models available. Oh, and I can program them, too, by the way. They're dullards. They're good at security and some other basic care tasks, but they're not terribly dynamic. The software I just wrote for them is better than what the bots you blasted were running, and it's still not a general artificial intelligence. Oh, and it'll be compatible with their primitive operating system."

  "All right, thanks. Tool up to make a bunch of those. Oh, how do they measure up against someone in Haven Fleet heavy armour?"

  "Without significant weaponry in hand they couldn't harm heavy armour. You'd be safe indefinitely. I could design and print one that could, though."

  "We'll talk about that later. The version we can make copies of would be good for this base's defence, though?"

  "They're excellent when using standard weaponry. Do you want me to set the manufacturing system up for that, too?"

  "No, just the bots."

  "All right, I'll begin tooling and calibration."

  Noah retracted his helmet. "Is your base low on defence androids? The type I blasted when I came aboard?"

  "Yes, you have stock?" Rikan looked surprised. It was an intentional expression.

  "I don't have any used or reconditioned models, just new, so I don't know if your administration wants to pay the premium."

  "New KA-Twelves?"

  "These would be KA-Fifteens," Elise corrected in Noah's ear. "I found enough data about them online to manufacture the latest model, the one that was rolling out before the fall."

  "KA-Fifteens," Noah said. "They'll
be thirty-five thousand plat each. Can you guys afford that? I'm cutting you a deal."

  "How many do you have?" Rikan asked, the ends of his fingers shifted, the definition of his fingernails failing for a moment.

  Now, that was a clear sign that the shapeshifter was excited. "You introduce me to a group who is really fighting against the Order of Eden and make sure the Shlaki pirates I pissed off don't get aboard at the same time I'm here, and I'll sell you fifty."

  "Fifty!" Rikan whooped.

  "What? Too many? Not enough?" Noah asked calmly, leaning back in his chair.

  "You could sell more? We could have real security from you?"

  "No, from the bots I sell you. I can get more, too. No previous owners, factory fresh with clean programming. But you have to agree to my other terms too, or I'm moving on to another station."

  "I need to talk to them," Rikan said. "I can introduce you to Underground. As for pirates, that is a problem of the chicken or the egg."

  "Ah, you don't have the security to keep them out but you will once I sell you the bots," Noah interpreted.

  Rikan pointed to his nose and to Noah as he nodded. "Give the man a prize."

  "Well, then that part of our agreement will kick in once you buy fifty bots. I can have a sample in your airlock in…"

  "An hour and a half," Elise answered in his ear.

  "An hour and a half," Noah said, starting to his feet, extending his hand.

  "You have to go on your ship to do that?" Rikan asked.

  "No, you don't, but I'd feel better if you were aboard where I could protect you," Elise said.

  "I don't, why?" Noah asked.

  "There are people waiting for you to leave. People who are after your cash and prizes," Rikan whispered. "I'll bring my protection over, we can have a few beverages on me then leave with them. I might be able to get someone from the Underground here too."

  It would be unlikely that he'd need any protection. The weapons he scanned on his way through could damage his shields, but they wouldn't win in a real firefight, not compared to the hardware he had. Even still, it was better to avoid more shooting, especially since most of the galaxy didn't know what Haven Fleet technology could do, something he had to remind himself of often. "Yeah, I'll take you up on that, Space Cadet," he said.

 

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