by Thomas Stone
He peered around the garage, took a breath and looked at Tringl. Tringl scratched the top of his head and looked back at Harry. Harry wanted to get inside the complex, but not at the cost of being discovered. Who was this Penbrook guy anyway? Harry allowed his consciousness to drift to the airlock door at the loading dock, then through to the corridors and rooms beyond. It was a large complex with many areas fallen into disrepair through neglect. He discovered where Fagen and Jennings were being kept and saw them in his mind’s eye. Both were asleep, apparently drugged. Harry moved on and found the others in locked facilities. Kathleen and Bobbi were in an animated discussion over their circumstance and the identity of their host. Griswold and Ellis listened silently nearby. Penbrook was elsewhere in the complex.
Harry snapped back to the garage. “Let’s go get Kathleen.” Tringl flashed a toothy grin and held up a thumb signaling his readiness. When Harry moved to the loading dock, Tringl casually followed while showing more interest in the mounds of refuse littering the garage than the locked door to the complex. Harry stopped before the door and inspected it, first visually, then by running his hands over it. Tringl began whistling an idle tune from one of the cartoons he watched. Harry turned and frowned and Tringl fell silent.
Facing the door again, Harry placed a hand over a particular area and closed his eyes. In a moment, audible clicks sounded within followed by three soft but solid thuds. The door remained shut until Harry gave a push and it swung open. Harry turned to Tringl and held a finger to his lips. Tringl nodded in understanding and followed Harry as he stepped inside the airlock.
The controls for the inner door were in plain view on the bulkhead. Harry punched a sequence of buttons and stepped away. As the fine mist of chemicals started, Harry held out his arms with upraised hands and the liquid fell short of both Harry and Tringl as if an invisible bubble surrounded them both. After the cycle was completed, the inner hatch popped open and both stepped through completely dry and undetected.
*
Minerva’s control room was dark. The only light came from Bart’s console. Arai lounged upside down on a divan with his legs thrown over the back and his head propped against the seat cushion. Out of boredom, he watched Bart. Unlike the others, Bart paid little attention to Arai, instead preferring the company of the computer. It made Arai think Bart didn’t particularly like him.
Although Bart sat in a comfy padded chair before a number of visual displays, he had his eyes closed. The wire leads that led to his head fed him all the input he required to view whatever he chose within Minerva’s constructed cyberspace, which was substantial. His eyelids moved as his eyes roamed beneath. His gloved hands pawed the air as he manipulated bits within registers and re-arranged lines of code. With a sigh, he opened his eyes and removed the gloves, intolerantly tossing them through one of the holographic displays before him.
“Minerva?”
Instantly her representation materialized beside him. “Yes, Bart?”
“I want inside Harry’s simulation.”
“Why?”
“Why? Because that’s what I want.”
“Well, I explained to you that Harry has us locked out…”
“Us? How can he have you locked out? You are the computer, my dear, lest you forget. You need to give me access asap and stop playing games. I want to see that simulation.”
“It’s nothing you’d be interested in.”
“I can decide for myself. What has Harry done to you? What’s going on?”
“Nothing’s going on.”
“Then why can’t I get inside and see for myself?”
“This conversation has just completed a circle. If you can’t… wait a moment.” Minerva looked distracted. She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes.
Bart wondered if it was another ploy to distract him but he bit anyway. “What is it?”
She looked at him. “An object is approaching.”
“Object? What sort of object?”
She paused before replying. “It’s… a… ship.”
“A ship? What kind of ship? Where did it come from?”
“Vector coordinates and velocity indicate it popped in from hyperspace. The silhouette is unknown but it does look familiar somehow.”
“How?”
“Definite human characteristics. Yep, I’d bet it’s from Earth, but…”
“But what?”
“It has an FTL drive.”
Bart sat back in his chair. “It was only a matter of time. Calculating time dilation, how long has it been, in terrestrial time, since we departed from Earth?”
“Two years, four months, twenty-five days, nine hours, twelve minutes, forty seconds…”
All right, all right. That’s plenty of time to reverse-engineer and construct a hyperspace ship from the singularity we gave to Braithwaite. I knew we shouldn’t have handed it over.”
“It was Edward’s decision.”
“Not entirely.” Bart pulled on his graying beard. “So, they’re here. They’ve followed us. Probably with a contingent of marines on board. Are we still out of touch with Kathleen?”
“I have the comm check on a loop. They haven’t responded in over two hours now.”
“Any activity at their last known coordinates?”
“Nope. They went to ground at some sort of underground complex. Comms went out when they entered. The roof of that place is obviously shielded.”
“Has the new ship spotted us yet?”
“I don’t think so. They would have hailed us by now. They may have a drive similar to mine but there is no way they could have developed sensors like mine.”
“Yeh, Min, you’ve got great sensors.”
“Why, thank you Bart.”
Bart shifted his considerable weight and rose from his chair. “I’m going to the viewing port. Please prepare the ‘scope for me. I want a naked eye view of this new ship.”
“Preparing the viewing station now. It’ll be ready when you get there.”
Bart exited Minerva’s control room without even glancing at Arai. Arai remained motionless for all of three seconds before flipping onto his feet and padding over to Bart’s active console. He sat on the edge of Bart’s still-warm chair and peered at the displays. They held no meaning for him so he began fishing through the mesh pockets on the sides of the chair. He found a half-eaten chocolate bar that he consumed with delight, then fished out a VR cap. Arai pulled the cap over his head and was instantly inside Minerva’s cyberspace.
An image of Minerva floated before his eyes. “Hello Arai,” she said with a smile. “It’s good to see you in here.” Through the auto-translators, Arai was pleased to understand every word.
“You can’t do much here unless you can touch things. To do so, you’ve got to put on the gloves.”
Arai complied and found he could not only speak to objects in this new setting but he could manipulate them as well.
*
Harry and Tringl walked slowly up the corridor. A door opened and they ducked into an empty room as Penbrook, mumbling to himself, crossed the hall and entered another room on the opposite side. Harry wondered how a human could exist for so long isolated out in the great desert. Why had the kitzloc allowed it? The answer was just around the corner of his consciousness, but he couldn’t grasp it.
Harry motioned for Tringl to follow and they continued, passing several shut doors before Harry stopped and backed up to a particular door. He leaned toward it, listened, sniffed, then placed his hand on the knob. He closed his eyes for a moment and an audible click sounded as it unlocked. Harry turned the knob and pushed.
The lights were on, but the two men inside were sound asleep atop two desks. Harry moved to Fagen and gave him a shake.
“Edward, wake up.”
Tringl shook his head. In Malaaz, he said, “Sleepy time. No wake.”
Across the room, Jennings snored.
“What do we do with them?” asked Tringl.
“We’ll come back after w
e get Kathleen and the others.”
Fagen mumbled incoherently and coughed. Harry looked at him and Fagen opened reluctant eyelids.
A voice came from behind. “What are you doing here?” Penbrook stood in the open doorway.
“Oh,” said Penbrook, taking a step back. “It’s you, isn’t it? You’re sooner than expected. I suppose you and… he,” Penbrook nodded toward Tringl, “were hiding in the vehicle. I suppose I got in too much of a hurry. Well,” he shrugged, “I’ll just have to make the best of it.”
Penbrook took another step backwards and slammed the door. The lock clicked and his footsteps rushed away.
“What’s happening?’ asked Fagen groggily.
*
Bobbi leaned to Kathleen. “What do we do?”
“We’ll play along with Penbrook until we find Edward. Then we’ll get some answers.”
Griswold got to his feet. “We don’t need Fagen to get answers. I don’t like being held prisoner by some crazy old dodger.” He moved toward the locked door.
“Don’t go and do something stupid,” said Kathleen.
Griswold stared at her and leaned against the wall just to the left of the door. Ellis sat in the corner with his eyes closed. He’d looked around the rooms, washed his face, and then chosen the corner where he was presently sitting. He hadn’t moved since. When the lock clicked from the door to the outside corridor, he opened his eyes.
The door opened and Penbrook came in, carrying the Vimbacher.
He looked to Kathleen. “Things are happening a bit faster than I expected. You didn’t tell me about the others.”
“You haven’t said much about yourself either.”
“All will be revealed in time. Great things are happening.” Emory glanced around the room. “Where’s the large fellow?”
“Right behind you,” said Griswold.
As Penbrook turned, Griswold struck him on the side of the head with a heavy-handed fist. The blow knocked the older man off his feet and he landed hard, out like a light.
*
Arai was fascinated by his new surroundings. After being cooped up for so long within Minerva’s confines, he was thrilled to have a new space to explore even if it was a virtual underground labyrinth. Minerva accompanied him as he stepped into the Crevah. Minerva didn’t need to tell him he was in a holy place. He sensed it immediately. She tried to tell him it wasn’t real, that it was all simply a very good illusion, but he didn’t believe it.
Minerva watched as Arai scampered to the edge of the pool. He immersed his hand in the water and felt the cool liquid wash over his furred arm. He flicked his prehensile tail in a manner that conveyed his belief that what he saw and felt was real, not any sort of illusion. The gesture was lost on Minerva.
“Harry wanted you to come here,” said Minerva. “I’m not sure it’s finished though. I thought he would bring you here himself, but he said I should bring you if he didn’t return in a day.”
Arai looked at her but said nothing. A Bedoran hunter was trained not to speak unless there was something definite to say. He wandered from the water and approached the column in the middle of the open space.
“He said something special was going to happen. He said you would like it.”
A shadow moved across a rock face, and a chill crept up her spine, an entirely human sensation. Her positronic circuits noted she had never experienced such a feeling -- she wasn’t capable of it. What had Harry done to her programming?
“I think we should leave,” she said.
Arai stood before the plot and looked over his shoulder at Minerva. Her arms were wrapped around her torso and she peered about the cave furtively.
“No,” he chattered in Bedoran, “not yet.”
The plot began to glow. Arai stood before it, hands stretched in supplication, palms toward the light. A hum started from the rock walls, low and resounding through the simulated cavern. Arai edged closer to the monolith, placing his small hands on the rock. A mist floated from the topping pool of water and streams of ether rolled down the sides over Arai’s hands. As if an electric current flowed through him, the Bedoran jerked upright yet still he clung to the slab. The glow from the stone reached through Arai’s hands, up his forearms. He closed his eyes and let it fill his mind. He opened himself and let it rush in.
Minerva sniffed the air. “Do you smell something?”
*
“What’s happening?” asked Fagen as he sat up. “Harry? How did you get here?” Jennings let out a nasal snore, garnering their attention for a moment.
Tringl placed a six-fingered hand across Fagen’s brow. In moments, Fagen felt more clear-headed.
“Penbrook drugged you,” said Harry.
“No kidding. How long have you been here? Where are the others?”
“We’ve been in the complex only a few hours. The others are here as well. They’re locked up, but we’ll take care of that in a few minutes. First, who is this guy Penbrook? Did he tell you anything?”
Fagen rubbed his eyes. “He said he was a Braithwaite employee. Been here for years, longer than the colonists, longer than Jennings and the miners.” He looked at Harry. “He said they knew we were here.”
“They?”
“I think he meant the kitzloc.”
“He’s right about that.”
Fagen sat on the edge of the desk. “How do you know?”
“How do I know anything these days? Bits and pieces of information come to me…”
“You’re still sick.”
“The worst is over.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“I just know.”
“Well, I wish I had your certainty.”
“To tell you the truth, I’m not certain about anything. The information I have is incomplete. They, the kitzloc, haven’t exactly revealed everything to me. I think they’re using me.”
“For what?”
Harry shrugged and shook his head. “I don’t know.”
Fagen unsteadily got to his feet. “Well, let’s go find the ladies and Penbrook. We’ll get some answers.”
A cough came from Jennings’ side of the room. Tringl was beside him, hand on his forehead as he had done with Fagen, and Jennings was coming around. Jennings looked around, stretched, and yawned, then saw Tringl.
“Am I still asleep?”
“You’re awake, Jennings. Rise and shine, we’ve got things to do,” said Fagen.
The lights flickered. Somewhere down the outside corridor came a loud ringing sound like metal being struck.
Harry’s hands flew to his temples and his eyes rolled back as he suddenly sank to his knees.
“Harry!” shouted Fagen, “What’s happening?”
Harry’s head rolled on his shoulders as he fought with the abrupt intrusion of alien impressions.
Another loud bang came from somewhere within the complex. Something smashed and splintered.
“Harry!” repeated Fagen, “Can you hear me?”
“Yes,” Harry managed, “I can hear you.”
“What is it?”
Harry looked at Fagen, his eyes blood red. “They’re here.”
The lights flickered once more and finally went out altogether, casting them into utter darkness.
Chapter 9
Bart leaned forward to the viewer, inspecting the image closely. The ship entering Mirabelian space was larger than Minerva with more of a human design. Where Minerva was sleek, the Terran ship was chunky; Minerva’s sensors and antennae were not conspicuous whereas the Earther’s ship fairly bristled with protruding pods and lengthy bits of radiating pipe. Additionally, there were two odd structures, one fore and another aft, that Bart surmised were weapons ports. The ship could conduct a space battle if its commander was inclined. Lastly, as Bart telescoped his view farther still, the Braithwaite Corporation logo came into focus emblazoned on the hull of the ship.
An alarm light sprang to life on Bart’s console indicating an active scan in their direction.
“Uh-oh,” Bart murmured, “looks like they’ve spotted us.”
The portly space explorer touched a button on the side of his chair and it silently slid backward giving him room to pull himself upright. He checked the distance between Minerva and the new ship one last time.
“Minerva? Switch on visual dampers. Let’s go invisible. I don’t want these guys getting any ideas about closing with us. Might as well lose them now.”
There was no response from Minerva.
“Minerva?” Bart repeated.
When Minerva failed to respond, Bart froze. She had never been late in answering a request from Bart. She had always been there for him. Not answering was not just unusual, it was alarming.
Bart’s voice dropped in pitch. “Minerva? Where are you?” He listened. Only silence. He sent impulses via his implants to the computer and, after a cursory check, satisfied himself that all systems were online. Yet, the personality of Minerva was missing.
A wave of panic washed over Bart. After years of being in constant communication with his companion, he was alone. Out of the human crew, Bart knew the inner-workings of Minerva better than anyone, but there was still much he didn’t know. The physics behind the singularity drive was simply beyond his understanding as were some of the more subtle aspects of Minerva’s positronic programming. All that was on the practical side. On the less practical side, Bart was co-dependent on Minerva and smart enough to know it. He was able to realize where his panic came from but unable to do anything about it. He looked back at the viewer and noted that the Corporation ship was noticeably closer.