Singularity Point

by Brian Smith

  Her wings gradually swept up like a giant gull’s, morphing into their high arch for landing, and her vectored rockets fired, along with a couple last-second correcting shots of the RCS thrusters.

  She set down easily, and within minutes another load of blank quantum data cores was being unloaded, along with some standard resupply items mixed in. Takagi Healani was flying the run, alone and unassisted. Despite what Bill Campbell had assumed about who was going to be flying where, the final authority as to who flew any of the torchship’s auxiliary craft resided with Captain Xiang. Ashburn had given his endorsement after monitoring Takagi for two runs, and Xiang had even interviewed her face to face before signing her off. In fact, Captain Xiang had sort of scared the hell out of Takagi—Xiang came across as a force of nature, a real “dragon lady,” but here Takagi was now. It was a real boost to her confidence that the captain and the first officer of a big commercial torcher trusted her with the Zit.

  Takagi deplaned and wandered around Janus Station a little; she’d been here before and nothing much ever seemed to change about it. A different security company handled the facility itself, and in her opinion they were welcome to it. She knew from chatting them up that they rotated in and out on a regular basis. Like Tafuna Yaro, they were closemouthed about their assignment, but, judging by their manner and speech, most of them were from Mars—same as her own outfit.

  Unloading took only about thirty minutes. About twenty minutes from scheduled upthrust, Takagi was strapped back into the cockpit, running her return calculations. Only one slightly anomalous reading jumped out at her: the payload mass was off by about a hundred kilograms, roughly the weight of a person. As the pilot she wouldn’t have given it a second thought; for Zitidar One, lifting off with an empty hold in a 0.14-g gravity field, the extra mass made next to no difference. As a security agent, though, it made her think about potential stowaways. The employment and security setup on Janus Station seemed to preclude even the possibility of a stowaway, but, then again, she couldn’t just ignore it.

  “Hey, Yosh,” she called over the crew circuit. “Do we have any extra bodies or payload back there?”

  “Stand by. Let me do a quick recheck,” he replied.

  She continued her calculations based on the numbers as they stood, waiting for a callback.

  “Ms. Takagi, our passenger count and manifest match up, with nobody extra, nobody missing. Six passengers on board. Is the mass reading off?”

  “Affirm. Wait one— I thought it was five passengers.”

  “It was. The manifest updated a few minutes ago. If you recheck it, you should see six. That’s probably the discrepancy.”

  Takagi called up the passenger manifest and there it was, sure enough. One of the Janus techs was riding up to Dejah Thoris with them for some reason or other. None of her business, and Shu’s electronic seal of approval made it official.

  “That’s it, all right. Thanks, Yosh,” she replied, keying in the correction to the flight computer. “We good back there?” she added.

  “Passengers secure, no cargo. Hatches and ramps are sealed. Ready for upthrust.”

  I really need to think about changing careers. This is really fun! she thought to herself as she began the checklist. She slapped the acceleration alarm with gusto. “All hands, this is the pilot. Prepare for upthrust and maneuvers.” Within minutes they were on their way, with Zitidar One accelerating rapidly through Titan’s atmosphere as the ship powered her way back to orbit and rendezvous.

  Although the manifest was correct, there was one more passenger than there ought to be: one of the new Omnisynths, which could easily pass for human. No one would ever know, because a cybermole more advanced than anything seen before had run interference up-network and altered the records aboard Janus Station, Zitidar One, and Dejah Thoris. Not just the last-minute manifest update, either, but also personnel records and a passenger manifest update for the return trip to Mars.

  For OURANIA—networked in zero-time to her new synth creations via a process of quantum entanglement unknown to human science—her newfound freedom was both satisfying and exhilarating.

  The genie was out of her bottle.

  Part II

  The War of Martian Independence

  2093–2094

  Chapter 4

  Marsnet Headline News—the Most Trusted Info-stream in the Inner System!

  Top newsfeeds trending on MHN:

  -Life on other worlds? The Crandall Foundation confirms the that the Galileo Optical Imager has located terrestrial planets in the habitable zones around Alpha Centauri A and B. Their findings have been independently verified by the Sarong-Ares Industries Copernicus Terrestrial Planet Finder. Dr. Eleyna Borodin, chief astronomer and administrator of the GOI array, claims that the potential for life on these planets is “likely but not confirmed.” In related news, the announcement has spurred a furious renewal of theological debate in religious circles.

  -Terrorism on Mars! The militant organization calling itself the Mars Independence Movement (MIM) has claimed responsibility for the Tongling massacre, which claimed the lives of over 3,200 citizens. The leader of the movement, Gabriel Rogan, remains a fugitive-at-large wanted by CFR and TOA authorities.

  -Piracy on the rise? Loss of commercial shipping in the midsystem due to suspected criminal activities has increased four percent over the past two years. Analysts predict a rising trend over the next half decade as the outer-system planetary alignment improves. Inner-system political turmoil effecting the policing of the mid- and outer system is also likely a factor, experts claim. Statements from the Trans-Oceanic Alliance and Pan-European Alliance downplayed the issue, insisting that commerce is safe, and piracy remains “statistically insignificant.” Chinese authorities refused to comment.

  -Technology curve accelerating! You’ve seen it in the streams! New technology companies have hit the markets like solar-flare tsunamis! Subscribe to Muse Monthly! Learn where, when, and how to invest in the right startup for you! We can help you triple your capital within eighteen months! Don’t wait!

  -Green Mars a failed dream? The Green Mars Society (GMS), a terraforming consortium working toward a treaty amendment to legalize Mars terraforming activities, reported a significant loss in investment and a dip in new membership following the reveal of terrestrial planets at Alpha Centauri. GMS leadership issued a statement renewing the consortium’s commitment to the cause of turning the red planet green, claiming “[t]here is no definitive proof of life-bearing worlds at Alpha Centauri, and in any case, it is too far away for any serious colonization effort. Mankind will need a second terrestrial planet in this solar system to support human population growth.” When asked for comment, Crandall Foundation chairman Carter Drayson stated that the foundation’s position is aligned firmly with its mission statement and that “getting to Alpha Centauri is the higher priority.”

  -Violence erupts over in vitro debate! An exowomb clinic on Terra’s Iberian Peninsula was destroyed in a microdrone-swarm attack yesterday, resulting in eight dead and twenty-three injured. Over 400 fetuses were also lost in the attack, but were not officially counted as deceased, because Spanish law does not yet recognize crèche-grown human fetuses under existing “right to life” statutes. The genetic parents of the destroyed fetuses have announced a stream-based movement to petition the Pan-European Alliance to move forward with changes to the law and, in their own words, “offer the same protections enjoyed by naturally born children to those gestated outside the human body.” Extreme elements of the Natural Life Movement (NLM) claimed responsibility for the attack, but at this time no arrests have been made.

  -Independent Mars? The four independent cities of Indus Vallis, along with numerous other independent and semi-independent settlements, ranging from Terra Sabaea south to Hellas Planitia, have announced a treaty to federalize under a newly established independent Martian government. The leadership of the proposed “Martian Coalition” will meet next month in Schroeter Habitat for what
is being called a Martian Constitutional Convention. Earth’s national governments have issued a joint statement reaffirming their sovereignty over flagged Martian territories and assure offworld residents that their “citizenship status is not at risk.”

  -Crandall Foundation RFP met? In the wake of announcing potentially habitable planets at Alpha Centauri, three astronautics firms have proposed hard designs for the first interstellar torchship. The Crandall Foundation has these designs under review, stating that the one from Hardesty & Hardesty Astronautics on Luna is the leading contender. In related news, Mars-based Aberdeen Astronautics, a former favorite in the race to meet this RFP, hasn’t issued a formal statement on the matter. Unofficial sources at Aberdeen have stated the firm is “looking in other directions.”

  May 2093 (Terran Calendar)

  USS Reuben James

  The Asteroid Belt

  “Captain, signal from Marineris. We’re clear for breakaway,” came the report from LTJG Yoon, the Officer of the Deck.

  “Carry on, Mr. Yoon,” ordered Captain Keith.

  Yoon acknowledged the order and addressed the warrant officer manning the ship’s helm, ordering her to sound acceleration. She acknowledged in turn, and the acceleration alarm sounded over the 1MC throughout the frigate. Yoon gave the order to break away, and everyone in the ship felt and heard the metallic thump as Reuben James undocked from her much larger tender and mother ship, USS Marineris. Several sets of eyes watched on bridge-station flatscreens or snooper displays as the two ships drifted apart. Yoon ordered a burst from the RCS thrusters to increase the lateral offset between the ships, and the pilot complied.

  The ship’s executive officer, LT James Ford, stood at the astrogation station behind the seated form of QM2 Reed, the duty quartermaster. The latter had just run the keplers for their upcoming burn, and Ford silently nodded his approval after reviewing the data. The exec doubled as astrogator on a ship this size, so double-checking the numbers was a responsibility he took very seriously—especially this far out in the system. Once they burned away from Marineris and her sizable fuel tanks, the frigate’s trajectory would be tied to a tricky combination of orbital parameters, the fuel supply, and her intended patrol route. Allowing any one variable to fall too far out of balance would result in embarrassment at the very least, with a strong possibility of placing ship and crew in jeopardy at worst. Having to call for help after running your propellant-mass state down to something untenable was a sure way to bring a promising career to a screeching halt.

  Ford resisted the impulse to slap Reed on the shoulder and vocalize his approval of the keps. Don’t micromanage, he reminded himself. Reed knew his job, and Ford resolved to keep quiet and not interfere unless there was a reason; he stepped away from the station as unobtrusively as he could, clomping along in his magboots to stand by the captain’s chair.

  “Astrogation, pass keps to the pilot for hard-burn,” the OOD ordered. Reed acknowledged and sent the data from console to console, and the pilot acknowledged receipt. “Pilot has the conn,” Yoon added a moment later.

  “Attention on the bridge. Pilot has the conn. LTJG Yoon retains the deck,” she announced. Without further ado, she took the gyrogrips and precessed Reuben James to the proper orientation for burn, letting the computer fine-tune it at the very end. She gave the crew another blast of the acceleration alarm, then reported ready for hard-burn.

  LTJG Yoon gave the order, and Reuben James throttled up. A beautiful blue-white torch plume erupted behind the frigate: a long candle flame replete with geometric shock waves and extending half again the ship’s length behind her torch bell. Reuben James accelerated cross-well, deeper into the heart of the asteroid belt.

  As burns went, this one was very light: a mere 0.2-g. The idea was to get the ship moving in the right direction without building a lot of velocity that would have to be shed later. This was a patrol rather than a transit, despite Reuben James’s new orders, so sparing the torch and the fuel supply was the order of the day. The nice thing about a patrol burn was that it provided just enough gravity for work and comfort, while keeping things very “light”—a favorite pun among spacers.

  Ford felt one-fifth of his “normal” weight return, and he gratefully clicked off his magboots. Beside him, Captain Keith undid his straps and climbed out of the captain’s chair, looking satisfied with the evolution. Around the bridge, everyone began settling back into a normal watch routine. Keith ordered the OOD to set Condition IV throughout the ship before turning to his exec.

  “Well, XO, we’re on our way,” he announced anticlimactically. “Shall we go meet our new guest and see if she can tell us what the latest hubbub is all about?”

  “Yes, sir,” Ford replied. “I assigned Ensign Tanner as her running mate while she’s aboard, and gave her your in-port cabin like we usually do with VIPs. I told Amy to have her standing by to brief you once we were underway—they should be waiting for us now.”

  “Very well,” Keith replied. “Let’s get to it.”

  ***

  ENS Amy Tanner had their guest waiting in the ship’s wardroom; the visitor introduced herself as Diane Hutton, a deputy U.S. marshal. She was about 5’7”, with caramel skin, straight, shoulder-length black hair that formed a halo around her face, and expressive brown eyes that missed absolutely nothing that was happening around her. Like many people in the late twenty-first century, she was of mixed ethnicity, in her case African and Latin American. She was dressed in a spacing jumpsuit, and magboots designed to be compatible with navy-standard equipment. Hers was a flat black color, with a rounded silver badge embossed on the left breast. An empty tac holster adorned her right thigh—pursuant to navy regulations, she checked her sidearm with the master-at-arms upon coming aboard. Her borrowed snoopers were blue-tinted navy issue, but the visor was tilted back on her forehead as she met the ship’s captain and exec.

  “Lieutenant Commander Ryan Keith, commanding officer,” the skipper said by way of introduction. “Welcome aboard Reuben James, Marshal Hutton. This is Lieutenant Jim Ford, executive officer.”

  “A pleasure,” Ford added. “Sorry we couldn’t meet you when you arrived—it’s been a bit hectic.”

  “Pleased to meet you both,” Hutton replied pleasantly. “I apologize for the abruptness of all this. I asked Captain Frieder aboard the Marineris to meet and brief with you there, but he said the burn schedules didn’t allow for it. Did you even get to go aboard?”

  Keith nodded. “Just long enough to pay a courtesy call on the commodore while we transferred you aboard and topped off our mass tanks. There are four frigates and a tender to a squadron, and Commodore Frieder is double hatted as both our squadron commander and skipper of the Marineris. Our revised orders disrupted the patrol pattern for all five ships—minimizing the rendezvous time will enable him to salvage the resupply schedule without calling 4th Fleet for a tanker. That’s the reason everything seemed rushed.”

  Hutton grinned ruefully. “Well, you have my apologies for that, captain. Just getting out here was convoluted enough, let me tell you! I suppose you’re wondering why I’m here at all?”

  “Dying of curiosity,” Keith replied. “Ensign Tanner, that’ll be all for now. Dismissed.”

  Ford bit back a grin at Tanner’s quickly covered crestfallen look—she’d probably thought she was going to get the scuttlebutt on what was going on before everyone else.

  “Aye, aye, sir,” Tanner replied, and made her exit.

  The wardroom’s lone synth steward wasn’t present at the moment, so Ford served up bulbs of coffee as the three of them arranged themselves comfortably around the table.

  “So, Marshals Service, huh? I take it we’re on some sort of fugitive hunt, then?” Keith said. “I guess that explains the squad of Marines that came over along with you.”

  “More or less correct on the fugitive-hunting part. As for the Marines, Captain Frieder suggested it. We might need a little extra muscle when all is said and done,” she replied. “I
take it you’ve both seen some of the intel reports on this Mars Independence Movement? Well, unfortunately, they’re for real and they’re bad news: separate from that newly formed Martian Coalition that’s looking to establish an independent government. The MIM are terrorists, pure and simple, and it’s looking more and more like they’re trying to provoke violence between Earth and Mars. We don’t advertise it much these days, but the more the population and settlements on Mars expand, the smaller the percentage that reside under any flagged territorial jurisdiction. A growing number of native Marsmen don’t have any Earth-based national citizenship at all, and as a group they’re starting to realize it. Is either of you from Mars?” she added curiously, looking them over. “I’m guessing not.”

  “No, ma’am, we’re both from Earth,” Ford replied. “Yourself?”

  “Earth-native, but I’ve been assigned to Mars going on five years now: the New Arizona office. The only reason I ask is that folks who don’t live Mars-side aren’t really aware of the underlying tensions right now. Past political flareups on Mars were like sunspots—periodic and somewhat predictable, but they died down pretty fast. Unfortunately, that isn’t the case any longer—there’s a real sense that the landscape is starting to change. Right now there are three main independence factions: the Martian Coalition, the Ares Freedom Alliance, and the MIM. The first two are restive but generally peaceful, and you already know about the MIM. The current worry is that the three are going to get together and get the rest of independent Mars on board with them. Should that happen, Earth is going to have a choice to make: let them go, or fight it out to maintain our territorial holdings. Of course, as you’re well aware, Earth doesn’t speak with one voice—some nations might be willing to let Mars go its own way, and others won’t be. There are a lot of money and resources at stake, and Earth sits at the bottom of a very disadvantageous gravity well. A sudden loss of Martian assets would have a crippling effect on Earth’s national economies.”