by Ginger Booth
“Probability 60 percent.”
“Why?” The smooth young face with white hair was an attractive choice, and her expressions natural if muted, her head shifting with her words.
The computer replied, “The facial expressions and blink patterns are normal, and the voice more husky. However the speech cadence is identical to that of Sanctuary Control.”
Sass considered this. Was it was possible for the AI to take control of an actual person, speaking the AI’s lines? Or did Shiva create a more convincing avatar? She had no idea.
She didn’t know a damned thing about this place. And she needed to fix that ASAP.
Much as she longed to talk to Loki Greenwald, he could wait. She clicked the record button. “Hello, this is Captain Sass Collier of the starship Thrive. We are very busy at this time. Please leave a message.” When in Sanctuary, do as the…Sancts?
Then she headed to the galley to grab some desperately needed coffee.
She needed to reach amicable terms with this AI. She barely poured her caffeine before the computer pinged her again. A Nanomage-class courier ship was approaching the planet.
Hell. Hostages might not be a bad idea.
Sass’s first stop was coffee. There she enlisted the housekeeper Corky to entertain their guests until breakfast. This bought her time to check up on her chipping-injured, and debrief Clay on what he’d learned overnight.
She caught up with him in their cabin, where he changed into fresh clothes after his night out camping with Tharsis and Silva. They – and the horses – slept in the same sort of pressurized geodesic tent the settlers used while they built Mahina’s atmosphere. Like Mahina, the sun cycle didn’t match human biology. Early morning by Sass’s clock was high noon outdoors.
Knowing Clay, he’d far rather be out there than in their luxurious master’s suite, designed by Clay. Sass sat on his desk, beautiful woodwork artfully placed askew to the corner behind it, surrounded by plants.
Sass felt more comfortable in the grungy cabin she used before combining two into this fancy one. She propped a boot on the support beam which once limited her to a twin bed.
While he stripped off yesterday’s clothes, Clay told her Hugo Silva had traveled on one of the courier ships Sanctuary dispatched to check on the other colonies. His assigned system seemed well, though they observed from a distance. Its worlds were the European-settled Cantons and the Russians’ Steppe. Another team found the Gandhi moon alive but failing. That system’s other world, Mubarak, had already failed.
They never heard back from their scouts to the African colony of Kuzaliwa, presumed dead. But then, the same was true of Aloha.
The remaining human colonies survived, more or less, as of 30 years ago. But for security, Sanctuary chose not to send a courier to check on Earth.
Only two wildcatter crews ever reached Sanctuary. One arrived 30 years ago. They abandoned their mission due to an accident, having found no real estate superior to what humanity already occupied. The crew that returned 9 years ago located a world better than Denali, with living biome and plenty of water, mostly frozen but temperate near the equator. They named it Sylvan.
The news precipitated a crisis here. The majority wished to abandon Sanctuary. Some wanted to relocate to Sylvan. Others revived a stalled movement to join Cantons colony.
The Japanese Nozomu colony was in better shape, but xenophobic. They rejected that possibility a generation ago.
Shiva instituted her mind control system to halt the conflict when it grew violent. Tharsis was one of the Cantons advocates, a rocky world. The two co-administrators, the late Ganny Kurt Kallias and Petunia Ling, championed the Sylvan and stay-home Sanctuary options respectively.
They saw these choices as all-or-nothing. An advance team to prepare distant Sylvan only made sense if they could trust the rest of Sanctuary to appear 30 years later. Losing a contingent to Cantons would bring Sanctuary or Sylvan beneath a viable population level.
They hadn’t gotten as far as asking Cantons for permission to resettle there. So far as Tharsis knew, remaining at Sanctuary was the AI’s decision.
Sass felt the Aloha worlds were a superior option – for Aloha.
Or were they? It was difficult to gauge what use these people could be on Mahina. Despite their superior tech base, their younger workers appeared to be mostly trained in spectator sports.
But Clay insisted the question was what was best for the people of Sanctuary. We owe them.
Sass held a hand up to stop her lover’s flow of words, and hopped off the desk to pace a few laps. “We don’t owe them. Firstly, I owe Mahina, not the Colony Corps.”
“Both –”
Sass warded him off again. “My turn. Thank you. Clay, these people aren’t the ones who saved us from Earth. Oh, one or two might be. But even then, their loyalty was to the Colony Corps, not us. We were a delivery job.”
Clay rocked his head so-so. The damned man was born to wealth and privilege, and naturally identified with authority’s side – the Gannies on Vitality, the urbs on Mahina. Condescending. Though in fairness he didn’t think much of the authorities on Sagamore or Denali. The jury was still out on Sanctuary.
To Sass, whatever heroes they sprang from, the current residents of Sanctuary weren’t born yet when she left Earth. She now had the biggest answer she came here for – which worlds survived. Good to know! “You’ll get more data on what we know of these other worlds, yes?”
“Of course. Already have, but we’re pressed for time.”
She nodded. “How are they today, mentally?”
“Better,” Clay judged. “Once I got him out of range, Tharsis could think straight again. But he has a lot of memories to process. Hugo Silva always knew how to thwart Shiva. But he’s starting to relax. Feeling alone against the machine had to be awful.”
“Shiva didn’t control them until 9 years ago?” If not, then the natives might just be rusty. Skilled, rather than untrained layabouts under a nanny AI. “Hugo told me something like that.”
“That’s the story,” Clay confirmed. “But I suspect Shiva developed the technology in the creches.”
“They’re no good at parenting,” Sass concurred sadly. “Alright, time to negotiate.”
28
Sass beamed a broad smile as she and Clay joined the breakfast table.
“The hats came out nice, Corky!” the captain encouraged, taking her seat. Tharsis and Hugo Silva looked pretty foolish in their new head-gear. Remi programmed a shielding fabric for Corky, printed in metallic brick, silver, and blue to match the Martian, Ganny, and Loonie colors. Corky sewed hoods reminiscent of medieval chainmail, fastening snug around the face and jaw, and draping down the neck onto the shoulders.
Better than tinfoil hats. And Corky deserved the praise for keeping their guests entertained while Sass played catch-up this morning. The whole crew was present, even a yawning Remi. Darren poked his breakfast in disinterest, while Zelda quietly wept.
Asserting an upbeat tone, Sass relayed Shiva’s demand that Thrive release her hostages. “I’m also eager for help getting those endorphin-control nanites out of my crew’s brains. Chief Markley here is our nanite specialist. Would the hoods help any?”
“No.” Hugo in his silvery helm sized up Darren. “Did you have a chance to look over the chip controller, chief?”
“Hm?”
Dot poked her husband. “You did, Darren. Remember? In med-bay. You whined that you needed your nano-bench to see much, and babbled about a battery.”
Darren rose from his chair and faced the wall.
Alarmed by his behavior, Sass said, “I thought they did that at Shiva’s orders.”
Hugo shook his head. “It’s a default. The nanites react to a spike of anger. Then you stare at a wall and they release a flood of feel-good endorphins.”
“Oh, good!” Dot pounced. “Darren, are you feeling less useless?”
Hugo Silva clarified, “You also forget what you were angry about. Or anything upsetting, really.
Just lose yourself in a happy now.”
“Not very useful then,” Sass concluded. “Dot, final warning.” She used a glare to convey the rest – be nice to your husband, or else. She’d already chewed out Dot once this morning, and it was only 08:15.
At the captain’s gesture, Remi gently retrieved Darren and sat him to his breakfast. Which he ate, this time.
Sass continued, “So our only recourse is to put the chip controller back into him? No, two of them is what you used, Hugo?”
“Only one of them will work,” Hugo replied apologetically. “Each chip is keyed to its own nanites. Otherwise we’d all be reacting to someone else’s signals. I hope you labeled which controller came from which person.”
“No,” Darren supplied. “We didn’t.”
“I’m sorry. Then we’ll need to insert both of them into you. Then you’ll be able to figure out which one controls your pretty friend.”
“Zelda,” Sass corrected. “But Colonel Tharsis, you can function with only one chip?”
He sighed. “It’s easier not to think. Then I get angry, and I’m battling the compulsion to face a wall. But Darren seems better off than me.”
“We have that stronger med from Denali,” Clay suggested. “Manic Joy.”
Sass shuddered. “Destroys all judgment, Clay. We can’t give Darren that before setting him loose on brain nanites.”
Clay conceded the point.
“Hugo, could you advise Dot while she reinserts those chips? And hopefully aid Darren in constructing a better solution.”
“Certainly. If you could make us more hoods, Corky?”
The housekeeper nodded emphatically.
“Next problem,” Sass continued. “Hostages. And an attack ship arriving. Or, can this ship attack us? Computer, do we have a name on the incoming ship?”
“Courier class ship Cupid.”
Hugo provided, “That’s the courier we sent to Nozomu. Modest guns. Not like these asteroid hoppers with the mining lasers. Just enough to dodge through an asteroid field.”
A light dawned on Sass. “Would Cupid have a warp drive? And an ansible?”
“It certainly did when it went to Nozomu. Now? I don’t know. But the devices aren’t good for much else.”
Sass tamped her grin with difficulty. “Any idea how to get Cupid to land peaceably? Colonel Tharsis?”
The colonel toyed with a strawberry on his plate. “Now that I’m thinking more clearly. Why are you here, Captain Collier?”
Drat. “We learned of your existence. We were curious. You have tech we don’t. We hoped to find an advanced society which could help us. Trade for technological advances. The three worlds of Aloha struggle to thrive because we don’t have enough people to maintain a high tech base. Yet these worlds aren’t survivable without technology. With so few settlers, we feared you were in the same boat.”
“Very much so,” Tharsis agreed.
Sass continued, “We also hoped you knew how to reach other colony worlds. And perhaps the wildcatters found the grand prize, another planet like Earth.”
“They didn’t,” Tharsis confirmed. “Though Sylvan isn’t bad. The original terraformers would have been overjoyed. Alas, no terraformers remain.”
“Not so. Mahina is terraformed.” The colonel’s eyes flew wide. “Didn’t Clay tell you? We have our old dome city, and some mining tunnel settlements. But most people live outdoors. We have open-air fields, forests, cities.” Well, calling their irrigated scraps of woods ‘forests’ was stretching it. And Schuyler and MA were pretty modest as cities went.
“You called it a moon!” Tharsis accused Clay.
“It wasn’t easy,” Clay agreed. “There’s a sort of bubble holding the atmosphere. Never really understood the chemistry. Zelda does.”
Zelda wiped her dripping nose with her napkin, and nodded morosely.
“Well, don’t get too excited,” Husna sniffed. “Mahina’s terraforming remains incomplete. Those fields and ‘forests,’” she huffed again, “scarcely cover one percent of the moon. And don’t get me started on the water situation.”
Sass cut her off. “We’ve come a long way. Still, we don’t live in a tunnel. Husna, if you’re finished eating, you’re free to leave. I know you have samples to process.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Husna Zales growled. Porter, the agronomist, apologetically nodded by her side. They came all this way.
“Hostages,” Sass reminded them. “You do realize, Colonel Tharsis, that you are free to leave at any time. I can transport you wherever you’d like.”
“With your horses,” Clay added. “We have a shuttle, but the horses won’t fit.”
Tharsis dismissed these concerns with a little lift of his fingers from the table. “I believe you. But if I may, I’d prefer to stay and see if you can clear these nanites so I can think straight. The hat helps. But not enough to make decisions.”
“But can you call Shiva and tell her you’re staying with us voluntarily?” Sass requested. “And probably your counterparts as well. The other mayors.”
“I can do that. I can’t promise how Shiva will respond.”
“To be clear,” Sass pressed. “Do you want our help to free your people from Shiva’s control?”
Hugo Silva nodded enthusiastically. To her surprise, Remi and Clay vehemently shook their heads no. Others looked ambivalent.
“Not at this time,” was Tharsis’ slow verdict. “Captain, you need to understand that Sanctuary is wholly dependent on our AI. The current situation is…not ideal. But how to change it is not obvious. Options are welcome. Interference is not.”
That made sense to Sass. Trust was earned, and she hadn’t earned it yet. “Understood.” Sass rapped the table. “Anything else before we get started?”
“Water,” Remi said, with a sad glance at the chief engineer. Their stores were Darren’s job.
“Ah, yes!” Sass acknowledged. “Are there any technical problems with us refilling our tanks? Or…?”
“Or,” Tharsis confirmed. “You’ll need the spaceport facilities. The lake’s mineral content is extreme. Hard on the plumbing.”
“Ah. I collect a sample today,” Remi said grimly.
“I’ll join you,” Husna Zales announced. “This is within my specialty, captain.”
“I’m glad something is. Let’s get at it, then. Porter, Joey – please pack up the tent and horses in case we need to maneuver.”
“May we borrow the horses?” Husna asked suddenly, then looked guilty.
Sass stared at her.
“Please. You’re welcome to use the horses,” Tharsis encouraged. He assumed the question was directed at him.
“Fine,” Sass growled. “Have fun, Remi.” She mourned her original plan to set down at the spaceport, find a bar and make friends. Why did things always have to get complicated?
“Colonel, you’re with me.” She rose and led the way to her office.
29
Clay ducked back into the med-bay. He’d escorted the key players here after breakfast. But then he excused himself to teach Joey and Porter how to stow the tent and umbilical. Then he stayed outside to give Remi and Husna a quick horseback riding lesson.
Today was clearly shaping up as another out-of-comfort-zone day for the first officer. They needed a solution here. And Sass was ever so much more technically inclined.
She was also nuts if she thought Thrive could take point on reshaping Sanctuary. We’re outnumbered, and light years from backup. His partner chose to tilt at windmills at the damnedest times.
Focus on the task at hand. “How are we coming along?”
“My brain’s back online,” Darren reported.
“He’s doing wonderfully!” Hugo Silva enthused. “I’d love to try some ‘Farmer’s Joy.’ I didn’t think his mind would clear so well on only one chip.”
“He has two chips,” Dot confided to Clay. “We were just about to test…” She muffled one of Darren’s forearms in a Corky-helm. Clay spotted
the new incisions just above both wrists. “Now hold your arms out as wide as you can. Zelda, come here.”
Hugo drew Zelda to the hand not swaddled, and kindly offered Darren wrist support. Dot stood back with her arms crossed. Darren grimaced at her and shifted his wrapped wrist to the counter rather than hold both arms out at shoulder height indefinitely.
“Any change, Zelda?” crooned Hugo. “Is your mind clearing?”
Clay deemed the question too vague. “Zelda, what is Mahina’s atmosphere containment bubble made of?” This was a trivial question for an atmospheric terraformer. Even a grade school kid knew the stuff was pumped up there by ‘ozone spires.’
Zelda shook her head, and pulled free to stare at the comforting wall.
“Trying the other arm.” Darren swapped the radio-blocker wadding. Then he shifted along the counter and reached his next trial hand to rest on Zelda’s shoulder. Hugo crowded her other side to keep her from cringing away.
“The Mahina spires?” Clay hinted.
Zelda replied, “They’re called ozone spires because the dominant component of the amalgam is ozone, O3.”
“Bingo. Welcome back, Zelda!” Darren engulfed her in a warm hug. Then he sighed and turned to Dot. “Go ahead. Cut it out of me. You know you want to.” The devices didn’t work unless embedded, because they used body chemistry as a power source.
“Oh! I’m late for work!” Zelda remarked in alarm.
Hugo reined her in and slipped a hood onto her.
Zelda blinked. “Oh. That’s much better. She’s going to cut me next, isn’t she?” She clung to Hugo’s chest.
Hugo turned her and blocked her view while Dot cut into Darren’s arm.
“Would it kill you to clean the instrument first?” Darren demanded.
“Don’t be a baby! That didn’t hurt.”
Clay ordered, “Dot, leave the room. Immediately. Retire to your quarters until further notice.”
“You can’t –!”
“I most certainly can. The captain warned you. Go.”
The nurse complained further about how she was a trained medical professional until the door shut behind her. Clay paid her no heed. He bowed his head over Darren’s arm. He sterilized tweezers. He delicately extracted the chip and laid it on sterile gauze. He blotted the wound with a gentle antiseptic and closed it with a butterfly bandage. He added a dab of painkiller as well.