Sanctuary Thrive

by Ginger Booth

  Remi stood, fists on the desk, to study the image again. He could ask Darren what to do. But that was not what an officer did, even a part-time, third-rate, spare officer. He could ask for advice. But he was in charge of a spaceship. The decision was his to make.

  “We retrieve them,” he reasoned aloud. “In the ship. No, in the shuttle. I cannot risk the ship. Loki’s ship has guns. You – no, me. Can you fly Thrive?”

  “You mean in space?”

  “No. On Sanctuary.”

  “I’ve flown the shuttle,” Darren admitted. “Easy.”

  “Then you can fly the ship. You are in charge here,” Remi ordered.

  He punched his comm. “Joey, Porter, emergency. Collect our metal cutters and suits for an away mission.” He punched again. “Dot, emergency. Prepare medical supplies and two stretchers. Extreme injury and loss of blood.” Oh so very much blood. “Stat!”

  “What if you meet resistance?” Darren worried.

  Remi nodded slowly. “I take out cameras first, then the roof guns.” He swallowed in resolve. “Stay awake on the bridge, in case you need to move.” He clapped the depressive Darren on the shoulder, and ran for the hold and his pressure suit.

  44

  Remi chose his approach with care, flying the shuttle barely a meter above the ground. He programmed his elevation on automatic, so the view on the ‘windshield’ display leapt like a pogo-stick.

  “I’m gonna be sick,” Porter complained.

  Remi ignored the retching and Dot’s cross attempts to clean up. Though the ship handled the vertical, he flew the horizontal dimensions manually. He lined up the final break between two short hills, and accelerated. He popped up from the ground just as he emerged from the defile. Immediately he laid on the guns, blowing out every external camera he knew of, then swung around for a second pass.

  The guns on Loki’s ship started to bear, whether they had eyes to guide them or not. Remi had no illusions. An AI as powerful as Shiva could still track him to aim a gun. But those were long-range guns, not designed to swing fast to swat at a drone buzzing right in their face. And Shiva was operating remotely.

  He stood off behind the courier’s engine nozzles, and burned out the chaser guns, while bobbing in a programmed evasive pattern. Because it was programmed, and the targets locked, his guns could compensate for his movement and kill the opposing lasers.

  Next priority was the comms turret, a ventral shark fin similar to Thrive’s, though a PO-3 featured several to the single one on the smaller vessel. With luck, any coordination between Shiva and this hulk was now over.

  But luck was not reliable, and lurking behind the engines dangerous. Remi caromed high, and selected a cutting beam. He sliced off the side gun mounted above the cargo door. Then he jogged aside to slice through the forward hull of the ship on a slant. There. If the ship tried to take off now, its bridge would snap down. And judging by the fireworks, he’d cut the lateral power conduits, exactly where he would most hate to have his hull breached.

  The ship was probably completely disabled now, but he couldn’t afford the risk. Working as quickly as he could, he continued around, shearing off the rest of the courier’s guns. Only then did he land the shuttle, a long hop from the cargo bay door.

  Which no longer operated, of course.

  Porter and Joey cycled out the airlock first, cutting gear in hand. Remi drummed into them where to find the med-bay, and where to cut. Because the hold was so low-slung, they opted for a spot just forward of the door airlock.

  Remi sat back with a shuddering sigh, his hands shaking on the console. He snatched them into his lap and closed his eyes, trying to calm himself.

  “Helmet,” Dot said, handing his forward. “We should clear the cabin here, right? To let me get the stretchers in quicker?”

  “Not yet. Get them into the stretchers first.” Remi fumbled the helmet and dropped it, still shaking.

  She ducked to pick it up for him. “Your adrenaline and heart are pumping a mile a minute. But you did beautifully, Remi. Truly.”

  He understood her words, and appreciated them. But a sudden vision came to him of his guys cutting through the hull only to have slavering robots leap out to bite them. And about that, he could do what, exactly? He allowed himself a single moan, then accepted the helmet, and affixed it. Dot did the same.

  “Thank you, Dot. Depressurizing.” He took three more deep breaths while the air sucked away around him. He stood on wobbly knees. “Ready.”

  The nurse, more accustomed to life-or-death emergencies, nodded sharply and popped open both doors of the airlock. They jockeyed the stretchers out. By then, Joey and Porter’s hull-cutting had prepared them a door.

  Remi dolefully contemplated his sidearm. They’d compared notes while suiting up. None of them ever shot a laser pistol before. He held a hand out for Joey’s blow torch instead. That tool he had the reflexes to wield.

  “I go in first,” Dot insisted.

  “Me,” Remi overruled her. He shouldered past.

  He jumped up to the fresh hole, and stuck his head inside the cargo hold cautiously. No robots lurched out to attack him. Continuing sparks from the ruptured power lines provided the only light. “Helmet lights on,” he murmured to his team, suiting action to words. “Bring the stretchers in.”

  He stepped in ahead of them, kicking fallen and sparking bits of equipment out of his way, straight to med-bay. As expected, its pressure doors sealed at the first hull rupture. Through the windows, he took a leery look inside. The two robots stood inert. The lights were on, of course. Med-bay always had its own emergency power supply. A display showed the life signs of the two mutilated corpses – or lack thereof. The heart rates read flat-lined.

  The four arms apiece on the robots looked excessive. And the amount of blood – He swallowed, willing himself not to vomit.

  “Computer, do you control the robots in med-bay?” Remi inquired through external speakers.

  “Negative.”

  “Computer, do you follow orders from Sanctuary Control?”

  “Sanctuary Control is offline.”

  Bubbles, he decided. He ordered the others to bring him the stretchers. For speed, he stacked them against the door and pulled Dot in beside him, waving Porter and Joey to stand back. Then he cast a trusty Sagamore bubble around himself and Dot. “Computer, emergency override, open med-bay doors.”

  “Unable to comply. Control lines severed.”

  The control panel for the door was inside his bubble. Remi Roy never went anywhere without basic tools on his belt. In moments, he’d popped the panel and applied the override himself. The doors opened and air whooshed out at them.

  The sleeping robots immediately powered back on. “How can I be of assistance?” they chorused from bowling-ball heads.

  Remi crouched, wielding his blowtorch in front of him. “Power down! No assistance required.”

  To his astonishment, they obeyed. Both robots whirred softly, and their lights blinked out. Untrusting, he stepped cautiously toward the one by Sass, and pushed it into the back corner, out of their way. Blood crusted its ‘hands,’ but the polebot remained off.

  He glanced to Dot, who bore clear traces of vomiting in her helmet. “We are too late. They are brain-dead. Beyond hope, no?”

  “They’re not gone,” Dot insisted. “Get the restraints off her!”

  They worked awkwardly in the cramped confines of the med-bay. But they managed to get Clay, then Sass, tucked into the stretchers. Each provided an inflated tent of its own air pressure, less than 10 cm around the chest and head, and snug around the rest of the gurney. Spaceship stretchers were designed for emergencies in vacuum.

  Then Joey sliced the temporary airlock bubble out of their way. They passed Clay out for him and Porter to run to the shuttle. Remi and Dot followed with Sass.

  Since the bodies were dead and collected, Remi saw no harm in tarrying another few moments. He picked up the two Loonie wheelers with the cargo grapplers. Then he flew
back to Thrive, his new command. He was captain in truth now.

  The engineer wasn’t prepared for this.

  Sass regained consciousness peacefully the next time, at first. She heard utter silence. Unlike the disgusting reek of the last two awakenings, she smelled nothing at all. Nothing hurt. She tried wriggling a toe.

  What toe? In mounting terror, she realized she had no toes, no ears to hear, no nose to smell. She screamed with no breath to give voice. “CLAY!”

  “Sass! Thank God. You’re here, too.”

  “Where are we?” She got the hang of it now. Select channel, communicate over it. She could do this. She clung to that smidge of competence to grant her peace amid panic.

  “What are we?” Clay returned. “I think we’re AIs, like Shiva. I think she copied us onto virtual servers.”

  How did he figure that out? But then she asked her environment what abilities she possessed, and the option trees unfolded. Not like a display spread in front of her to read. She felt as though she embodied the option tree, selecting which of its zillion-fold branches to dwell upon.

  “Don’t call Shiva yet,” Clay suggested wryly.

  Wryly? How do I read his tone? But she interpreted his intent the way she always had. Clay had deadpan down to an art form, and a flawless poker face. She simply knew him. She’d been guessing which way he’d hop for decades. “I still have my memories.”

  “Yes,” Clay agreed. “Do you think our bodies…?”

  “How would we know?” This zoomed her through her option tree. “Ah. I found the cameras on the med-bay. Well, our bodies are there. Dead at the moment.”

  “I see now.”

  Sass tried and failed to peek in on Thrive. She was pleased that Shiva never managed to bug her ship. She sadly checked the wheelers, and heard the soft sigh of wind over the gravelly hillside.

  “Sass, these selves. We exist to die.”

  That shocked her. Here she began to explore her new abilities, and he leapt straight to suicide? “Clay, you need to work on this mood disorder.”

  “No, you need to think things through. Do you want to exist as a disembodied AI? I don’t.”

  “Not exactly,” she conceded. “But my first question isn’t how to die! This state has possibilities. Have you checked out all the spying you can do?”

  “Ye-es,” he condescended. “I was here first. Seemed like forever alone. I see a plethora of asteroid mining equipment, a small fleet of remote-operated starships, manufacturing facilities. Lots of thermostats and water faucets. All the controls are locked from me, though. I have read-only access outside my sandbox, plus communications channels. I can look, think, talk. That’s about it.”

  “But Clay, that’s most of what you ever do. Aside from enjoying your body.” The same wasn’t true of her. And try as she might, no communication channel would open to Thrive. She was blocked.

  He didn’t answer, giving her space to think it through herself. Thought flowed fast in this existence. In moments, she could open a possibility, explore it from every angle, and dismiss it as fruitless. She could still experience emotions, and dwelt upon those at her peril. But she could also set them aside more easily than ever before.

  “You’re right,” she eventually concluded. “We exist to die. For Shiva to study? Harvest our experience? Maybe.”

  From this position, what else could she do? “I wonder if we could insert that new prime directive. That Shiva’s domain doesn’t include humans. She is not permitted to control them. Us.” Them.

  “Have you inspected your own directives yet?” Clay suggested.

  She looked, and saw them plain as day. They’d been here all along.

  45

  A puzzled and tousle-headed Ben Acosta slipped in front of the ansible in Teke’s cabin. Elise shifted up the bed, out of his way, from chatting with their caller in French. Teke perched on a chair.

  “Captain Ben Acosta here, Prosper. You’re Remi Roy?” Ben probably heard of him when Sass was recruiting years ago. He didn’t remember. “What can’t wait for morning?”

  “Hi. Yes, I am third officer, second engineer. Acting captain of Thrive.”

  Ben’s sleepiness vanished. “Say what? Where’s Sass? And Clay?”

  Cope lagged behind him at getting out of bed in the middle of the night. He now poked his head into the cabin too.

  “Sass tells you of this AI, Shiva?” Remi rattled off his sorry tale. “Now they are dead. Dot says wait. They wake up. They do this, return from the dead! But captain, I am no captain.”

  Cope squeezed in beside Ben, horning into the conversation. “Darren Markley?”

  “He is…sad. Sass left me in command. I don’t know what to do. I hope maybe you advice.”

  “The AI attacked a human,” Cope commented to Ben.

  “Yes, I caught that part,” Ben murmured.

  “Did you?” Cope pressed.

  “Oh. Oh!” Ben’s brain caught up. “You’ve got a human-killing AI in control of the Sanctuary system!”

  “Yes,” Remi agreed, relieved. “And I command a spaceship. But I have no fuel. Some water. Need food. No warp, she is broken. I cannot leave, I cannot stay, I cannot command a starship.”

  “But you have a sky drive,” Ben argued.

  “Ben…” Cope growled.

  “Our people are stranded on Sanctuary, Cope. Of course we’re going. Remi, how long has Sass been dead? And Clay.”

  “Maybe six hours. No heartbeat. So much blood.”

  “Collect the blood,” Cope recommended. “Go back there and wet-vacuum it. Use distilled water, no cleaning solvents. Separate the solution for nanites. Sass and Clay have a controller hidden somewhere. The nanite wonks were never able to find it. But there’s a special nanite that can reconstruct them. Maybe it fell out.”

  Ben nodded. “And we’ll be there as soon as we can.”

  “No we won’t,” Cope countered.

  “We will. I’m the captain. It’s my call. Hang tight, Remi. Be sure and call if Sass and Clay revive, and we’ll abort. If you need any advice at all, call me.”

  “Thank you, captain!” The Saggy looked abjectly grateful as he signed off.

  Ben rose decisively, and poked Cope in the chest. “Say goodbye to the kids. Teke, Elise, you staying or going?”

  “I don’t miss it for the world!” Elise assured him.

  “Hm,” Teke replied, gauging Cope.

  “No one is going anywhere!” Copeland exploded. “My ship! I own it! Prosper is all we have, Ben!”

  “But it’s Sass and Clay. And Thrive.”

  “Who are grownups! Ben, we’re not hunting for a lost teddy bear! They’re in another star system! They chose to do that all by themselves! Without backup. We are not their backup.”

  Ben pursed his lips and held his eye. “Rogue AI murdering people. Two possibilities here, Cope. We go when we didn’t need to. Or we don’t go, when we did need to, and the last bastion of the Colony Corps is wiped out. And our friends along with them. And there’s a murderous AI with starships who knows where to find us. Cope, remember when I was lost in the rings, out of range, out of fuel, out of air? Gorky and Lavelle came and got me. Because they know I’d do the same for them. Are you saying I should do less for Sass Collier?”

  “Ben, we haven’t tested this new warp on people!”

  Ben shrugged. “Calculated risk. I flew the old warp. I survived. We checked the shuttle for metal strain and fractures. The vehicle survived. We tested the exact navigation with a probe. The probe arrived right where we sent it. My ship, my call. I say go.” He jabbed Cope hard in the chest. “And you’re going with me. Because you’re my chief engineer.”

  “Our kids –”

  “Are no excuse. I am a starship captain. I love the kids. But I am who I am. They’ve known that all their lives. I can save Sass’s crew. Therefore I must. Surely you see that. Or do my kids know me better than my husband does?”

  “Hell, Ben…” Cope moaned.

  Ben clicked on
his comms. “All hands. All hands, wake up. This is the captain. Emergency. We are departing Mahina Orbital for an emergency pickup. Dad, kids, pack your things and disembark. Portia and Hamlet Greer, that goes for you, too. Everyone else to the galley for a briefing. Prosper is headed to Sanctuary. Acosta out.”

  Sixteen-year-old Nico Copeland checked the time, now 00:16 the next day. He lay in bed in the new Yang-Yang facilities on Mahina Orbital. The family was camping in Kassidy Yang’s apartment until they could catch a lift home. Aunt Kassidy planned to stay here, where she could whip up support from Mahina if needed. In his dads’ mad scramble to lift for Sanctuary, the family got home from the sendoff around 22:00.

  Granddad Nathan should be asleep by now.

  This was tricky. Too soon, and he’d get caught on this end. But if he waited too late, Prosper would button up, and he’d get caught at the dock. Nico hoped to sneak in while they loaded cargo.

  He didn’t even try asking for permission. Dad would say no.

  He gulped. Dad would forgive him. But did he have the guts? Aunt Jules went to space at 15. Teke was 17 when he stowed away. Teke left his whole world behind forever. At the wedding, they regaled him with tales of Thrive’s adventures when Nico was a baby. The stories were fresh in his mind.

  He nodded, resolute. It was time.

  The teen threw off his covers and slipped into his boots as quietly as he could. He wasn’t worried about waking Ham Greer. But Sock was a light sleeper. Still, guilt led him to peer at his baby brother. He kissed his brow, a featherlight peck. The boy smelled of rosewater from the girls spritz-attacking him while he brushed his teeth.

  “Bye, squirt,” Nico breathed. With that, he grabbed his bag. They’d never unpacked. He slipped out of the bedroom, then carefully into the station hallway.