by J. N. Chaney
"Sure thing, kid," I said.
She smiled, confident and mischievous at the same time. "I'll let that one go because you're going to give me a bunch of cool weapons and armor."
"We'll see about that." The armory had been resistant to our efforts to convert its more deadly tools to our use. It would be easier if X-37 wasn't constantly struggling to avoid quarantine and was able to help me hack into the control mechanisms of the armor and weapons the Archangels and other Union soldiers left behind.
"Hal, I may be able to help X-37 with some physical measures," Tom said.
"What?" I didn’t believe my fix-it guy could outsmart the artificial intelligence of a state-of-the-art Union stealth carrier.
He frowned, looking at his work screen rather than me. Static disrupted our connection for a split second. "It's an idea I’ve been working on. I located a design flaw related to an unusual signal relay on the stealth carrier. I'll let you know if it goes anywhere, but I think we can hold the AI of the Nightmare prisoner."
"Unlikely," X-37 said.
I tried to hide my relief but didn’t actually care if X realized I was pretty freaking happy to hear him. "You're back.”
X-37 didn't respond, which was unnerving. Our banter followed patterns, and I started craving a cigar whenever we deviated from our routine.
Tom waited for X to jump back in, but nothing happened. He cleared his throat and continued awkwardly. "I can't make any promises. Just let me work on this for a while."
"Don't wear yourself out, Tom," I said, pretending I wasn’t getting seriously worried about my LAI’s erratic behavior. "Elise and I will be in the armory."
She bounced onto the balls of her feet with excitement and I reminded myself she was still a young woman, not a hardened spec ops soldier like she pretended to be. Modified Lex tech allowed her to heal faster than anyone I'd ever met, but it didn't give her extra abilities.
Every skill she'd mastered from Path or me resulted from her hard work and secret practice sessions she thought I didn't know about.
"Are all Union ships this well fortified?" Elise asked. "This bulkhead looks ready to withstand a direct hit from a nuke."
I crossed my arms, wishing that X-37 would chime in with some semi-useless analysis of the scene. An all-access pass to ship facilities would also be nice. I would have to do this manually—not difficult but more time-consuming than just typing in a code my LAI provided.
"Pay attention, kid," I said. "There aren't many people who have seen this and lived."
Elise watched in silent anticipation as I put the palm of my left hand beside the access panel.
Micro servos whirred inside my arm to unspool hairlike wires straight into the doorframe. My instructors in Reaper breaching school had discouraged the class from waving the wires around where they could be seen, partially because they were as delicate as spiderwebs and partially because they freaked people out, writhing like alien organisms from a metal hand.
I looked at a small screen that slid open on the back of my hand. Touching it with my right forefinger, I guided my wires into the mechanism.
"Wow, that's kind of freaky. Does it hurt?" Elise asked. "I can't see what you're doing, but you're making a face."
She was serious. I'd expected her to roll her eyes and pretend to be bored with the process, but she was clearly fascinated by what I was doing.
"I'm not making a face," I insisted, concentrating on the small screen I was using to maneuver the sensor wires into place.
"You kind of are," she said.
"This wouldn't work if I couldn't feel what I was doing," I explained. "The wires I'm sending through the locking mechanism are about thirty-three times more sensitive than what most people experience through their fingertips. So yeah, sometimes it hurts."
"Have you ever used this ability to do anything other than pick locks?" she asked.
"Like what?" I was distracted by something in the way, almost as though the ship had been designed specifically to resist this type of interference.
"I don't know, like drawing pictures or something. Maybe playing a musical instrument," she said, shifting foot to foot and staring at my hand on the door frame.
"Not a lot of need for killer musicians this far from civilization," I muttered.
"I'm sorry. I was just thinking out loud. I'll stop distracting you," she said. "Hey, what the hell is happening? Are you okay? Reaper, what's wrong with..."
Pain burned up my arm and into my head. By the time I realized what was happening, it felt like someone was shooting a stun pistol straight into my brain.
"Reaper," Elise screamed.
2
I learned what hell was in the next few moments—pain, a total lack of control, and the unnerving suspicion that the Nightmare’s counter measures would never stop punishing me. I should have known that the head of the Reaper Corps would have guarded against a Reaper mutiny.
Being able to move, or think, or do anything useful would have been outstanding. Blackness filled my vision.
"You're freaking me out, you stupid jerk!" Elise stood over me like she wasn't sure I was safe to touch.
By the time I recognized she was there, my short-term memory was almost as unclear as my long-term memory, but I knew by instinct I needed to mess with her. "Why didn't you pull me back?"
She stiffened. "You looked like you were being electrocuted. I'm not trying to get shocked."
"Yeah, I get it. But you wouldn’t have felt a charge unless you touched something that completed the circuit, and saying it electrocuted me is a bit of an oversimplification," I said, pushing up to my feet.
"What the hell happened, then?" she asked, crossing her arms and stepping back as I stumbled around.
My lack of balance and coordination probably made me appear drunk. The hallway outside of the Archangel weapons vault tilted, causing me to stumble toward the wall. I threw out my right hand just in time to avoid face planting.
Elise giggled. "I shouldn't be laughing."
"I agree. Knock that shit off," I said, turning to lean my back against the wall rather than my face. "That was unpleasant."
Elise looked at her foot and tapped it several times. Arms crossed, eyes directed downward, she also chewed her bottom lip as though this might give her an answer to our dilemma. "We are really going to need that Archangel armor."
I exhaled slowly, searching my jacket for a cigar that wasn't there. We'd been so busy in the rush to get into the slip tunnel and head for the system where the Bold Freedom was stranded in the path of a comet that my routine was out of whack.
"Let's check out some of the regular gear. It will be better than anything we've used so far," I said, fighting back the need to vomit. "If X-37 could spare us time for a sarcastic comment, he’d tell us to think positive."
"You should, in fact, think positive," X-37 said to both of us.
I was glad Elise still had her earbud in place so we could communicate with my AI.
"Shall I reorganize my priorities? I am willing to expose myself to quarantine if you decide humorous interaction is more important than my survival," X-37 said.
"No, X, you do you," I said.
"Of course," X-37 responded. "I'm going silent for a while to work on Tom’s theories. Attacking the ship AI at its signal relay source could have extreme consequences."
"Yeah?" I worried that Tom would provoke the AI of the Nightmare. He was smart, but this was the premier special operations ship AI we were talking about. There was a real possibility it would self-destruct before submitting to a hostile takeover.
X-37 didn't respond for several moments and I thought he had already gone into his self-imposed silence. When he finally spoke to Elise and me, his message was simple.
"Tom’s plan has merit, but it needs to be taken a step farther. I must, for lack of a better description, conduct an infiltration mission. It will be like being a Reaper, except classier," X-37 said.
I laughed, not sure why, but I suspected my
reaction was relief. "Nice one, X. Are you saying I don't have any class?"
"I'm not sure my current software has the ability to judge your cultural sophistication or lack thereof," X-37 said. "I suspect, however, that you have no class whatsoever."
"You wound me, X," I said, holding a hand over my heart in mock dismay. "Do your thing. Will try to manage without you until you and Tom can ninja the ship AI."
"Outstanding, Reaper Cain. I will alert you when I'm able to talk more," X-37 said.
Elise didn't seem as happy as she should be. The runaway was still a teen, and I suspected I hadn't seen the last of her moods. Maybe I was being a jerk, but I couldn't be that far off the mark.
"Are you okay, kid?" I asked.
"Not a kid," she quipped. "Are you okay? You look like you just finished a gut check workout and ate some mysterious gray sludge from a medical locker."
"I should've never told you about that," I said, pushing away from the wall and heading for the regular armory. When we first met on the Dreadmax prison station, I had been forced to eat something questionable. At the time, I convinced myself I was in a kitchen or break room, but it was far more likely that I had been in a research facility and had consumed some sort of spoiled plasma—and that was the best scenario.
"I laugh every time I think about it. I don't think I could ever be that hungry," Elise said, her mood improving as we neared a new roomful of weapons and tactical gear.
"Gray gelatin is delicious," I said. "When X is done messing around with the Nightmare AI, I'll have him find the recipe. You'll love it."
Elise made mock retching sounds.
"You're hilarious," I said.
"What's a ninja?" She switched up the conversation because she was a teenager.
"No idea," I answered. "I asked my teachers the same thing, and they said it was an old word that meant something to do with stealth, but I was pretty sure even then they were clueless. Probably just a remnant of an old language."
The regular armory was locked, of course. I checked my lock pick wires, worried for a moment that they had been ruined by my experience at the Archangel armory door. Fortunately, it didn't take much of a charge to cause that much pain when my nerve-ware was so sensitive. There wasn’t much damage.
I put my palm to the security panel, took a deep breath, and sent my wires in to do their thing.
"Why haven't I ever seen you do this before?" Elise asked as she observed my progress.
"I don't use it much, and it's one of the many functions X-37 and Henshaw have brought back during our last several repair sessions," I said.
"It seems useful," she admitted.
"Sure, but normally X just opens everything remotely," I said as I heard the locks click open. "There we go. Let's check out some new toys."
I showed Elise around the armory. The place was familiar, just like the good old days when I was a soldier with no idea how corrupt the Union had become. The main room had workbenches to clean and repair weapons or armor, plenty of space for a large group of soldiers to move around as they geared up, and rows of personal lockers. I counted them and thought there had to be at least a full company of regular soldiers assigned to the Nightmare in addition to Neb’s personal killers.
Most of them had been trapped on Wallach when we stole the ship. A good portion, however, now filled the brig and kept Path and Locke very busy. Just feeding them and dealing with their constant attempts to escape or argue was a full-time job.
There was a room dedicated to small arms weapons, everything from pistols to crew served machine guns with every imaginable optic and upgrade. I spent some time making sure there wouldn't be any surprises. This gear wasn't for the Archangels, but special operations units. Everything was the same as I remembered from my time in the Union, but newer and better maintained.
In the next room was unpowered armor, lighter and more resilient than what I had worn on Dreadmax, very simple to equip and use. The powered units would require me to train Elise and anyone else from Locke’s hodgepodge force before they could operate them safely.
“What do you think?” I asked. “The powered armor is EVA compatible. Could be useful if the ship is blown to pieces.”
Elise carefully examined the armor, nervous but trying to look like a pro. “You know how much I like EVA missions, but we should start training with this stuff as soon as possible. Everyone should.”
“You’re right,” I said.
In the third and final room that connected to the main work area was the range. It was in standby mode, but I suspected we were going to have fun. Not only were there several virtual shooting lanes, but a full tactical course that was modular and ready to be switched up to imitate various scenarios.
"I love this ship," Elise exclaimed. "Why didn't we steal it sooner?"
"It's okay," I responded. "We should steal the other two and pick the best one."
"I'm down for that," she said.
A speaker near the ceiling chimed, alerting me there was a message about to be broadcast. It surprised me because I was accustomed to all communications coming through X-37.
"Novasdaughter for Cain," my new expert pilot/executive officer said.
"Go for Cain," I responded.
"The uncharted S.G. Point is up ahead," she said. "We're in the right system, but you better get up here."
Striding onto the bridge, I saw multiple holos displaying the scene. The comet, though still distant in absolute terms, gave everything in the system a peculiar sheen. The local star cast intense white light, an almost blue glare that did amazing things with the wake of the passing object.
But that wasn't what made this system different from any place I'd ever been. There wasn't one, but multiple debris fields—thousands of derelict ships drifting lifelessly.
"That's not something you see every day," Novasdaughter said with a wry grin. "Halek Cain with nothing to say."
I could've mentioned that Elise was speechless, and that she was a greater master of snarky, profane comments than I ever would be. Not that I was keeping score. She had an advantage because she was the product of an illegal experiment and a teenager. So of course she had a mouth on her like an arms dealer.
"X, a little help here. Can you link up with the Jellybird and make some sort of analysis? I'd like to know all I can about these wrecks," I said, not sure why I had an uneasy sensation in the pit of my gut.
My limited artificial intelligence didn't respond. Elise and I shared a worried expression.
"X?" I repeated. "Don't go to sleep on the job now."
X-37 wouldn't be able to resist a chance to snap back with a witty comment or an assertion that I was speaking nonsense with mixed metaphors and lame colloquialisms. This time, I got nothing from the LAI woven through my nerve-ware.
"The Nightmare AI is still interfering with our communication with the Jellybird," Novasdaughter said from her control center. "Your friend Tom has sent us some text-only messages. Regular ship-to-ship communications are tricky in this system. He advises that he is keeping the ship in stealth mode and that the Lady Faith is doing the same."
"Understood," I said. "Let's move away from the slip tunnel exit. Standard evasion protocols. There are still two more Union stealth carriers out there and I imagine they're pissed off right now."
"Taking evasive maneuvers and entering our own stealth mode," Novasdaughter said.
I watched as the Nightmare moved at speed around the periphery of the system. Holographic monitors displayed different sectors with a combination of actual long-range views and digital simulations based on known systems and generally accepted astrophysics.
The most stunning view was of a large gas giant with double rings at different angles. Formed from different materials, one ring was closer to the planet than the other. A cluster of dark ships had become part of the outer ring. It looked like some vessels were in a degrading orbit. A thin river of debris flowed toward the gas giant.
I couldn't make out the smaller specs,
even with the computer enhancement. Some of the original spaceships had been enormous, nothing like any Union or Sarkonian ships I'd ever heard of.
"Can you minimize the computer enhancements but boost the clarity?" I asked.
"One moment," Novasdaughter said. “I have to pull up the algorithm and work through the menu. This would be easier with the Nightmare’s artificial intelligence helping. And to make matters worse, I'm a fighter pilot, not a starship pilot."
"You're the most qualified person we have," I said.
"I'm not complaining," she said. "I'm just sharing some information. This is a promotion, by the way."
"I’ll make sure to reflect it in your paycheck," I said.
"We’re getting paid?" she asked with a laugh. "Here's the divided view of the holograph; I split the debris field into parts. One view will be with the computer-enhanced details, and the other with natural light. That's not too bad, but eventually it will be invisible without magnification."
Dark shapes twisted in the void. Occasionally, there was a glint of light or movement. The field of broken and dead ships reminded me of an anthill under a corpse. "Is anyone else seeing that? There’s something wrong with this picture."
Elise worked on her own station, pulling up a view that she manipulated as she studied it. "This workstation is identifying an anomaly but can't explain it. I'm not sure what you and I are seeing, but there's something there. We should investigate it."
"We should do a lot of things," I said, pulling up the Bold Freedom and its plight to take a better look.
"I wasn't talking about before we rescue the people from Dreadmax. Of course we’re going to take care of them first," Elise muttered.
"Try not to say everything that just pops in your head," I said, realizing even as I spoke the words that this was the start of an argument.
"Like you're one to talk," she said, refusing to face me as she pretended to work on the display problem.
"X, a little help. If you don't pipe up with something to put this kid in check, I'm going to get worried," I said.