The Pattern Ship (The Pattern Universe)

by Roote, Tobias

  After three months of building and ironing out the bugs of the Defensive shields and without advising the USA of their intentions, the two of them visited first the Chinese, where they nearly got drawn and quartered by some very fast Samurai Traditional Palace guards. Luckily the shields kicked in just at the moment Zirkos would have been cleaved in two, thus saving mankind from an inestimable tragedy.

  It took some time to convince the Chinese that their intentions were honourable. After a face-off between them and the normal military palace guard, they developed a healthy respect for Chinese zealots who had flung themselves at their shield in a pointless effort to overpower them and throw them in their palace jails.

  They finally reached a point where the Premier ordered their scientists to look at the plans for the shields that had been redesigned by the Americans, based on the designs from Zirkos’ patterns.

  A month later the Chinese factories were manufacturing at such a fast rate that the supply of nanobots, secure in the hands of the Pod A.I. were dangerously close to falling behind.

  The Ship A.I. noted that each time the Pod seemed to get to saturation point it somehow re-balanced its resources and soldiered on, seemingly capable of additional capacity. Zirkos himself kept meaning to check on the Pod’s arrays, but everything seemed to be moving at a high speed and there never seemed time.

  The Russians who had been given the blueprints at the same time as the Chinese, were still arguing over who was going to do the manufacturing.

  Limited supplies had begun to emerge, but typically the leading classes only managed to obtain them, and those only after heavy bribes to the Russian ‘Mob’ who’s stranglehold on the countries economy was total. Their control over transportation, oil, food grain, imports, and all major manufacturing caused Zeke and Zirkos to consider a backup plan.

  It was this plan they were now refining. It meant that they would have to put themselves at some risk, but the progress of the overall shield design in the hands of the Americans and the Chinese had bought about some major advances.

  Now, besides being intuitive, they were linked directly to the individuals bio signature so could not be used except by the registered wearer. This same feature also measured the vital signs of the user and could detect when a threat may be developing even if there was no overt act by third parties.

  It relied heavily on the personal circumstances of the user. If they were constantly at risk through their work, or by circumstances, then the Shield identified with their pattern and adjusted its norm accordingly.

  Ship had been busy too, it had followed Zirkos’ suggestions about technical implants that the Maker had discovered but put aside, while designing the new Warrior T-Ship and came up with an ability to insert communication devices into both of them so that they could speak directly with Ship without voice.

  It currently only worked when the range was direct line of sight and Pod had no spare capacity to run the communication protocols which meant it could not act as a relay. They were considering a set of relay satellites around the planet, but this was temporarily shelved due to a lack of time. They didn’t want to put the Jenari’s satellite plans in the hands of Fortress at this time. Earth wasn’t ready for some of the tech involved.

  Meanwhile, the implants proved extremely valuable when Zeke was working with foreign governments as when language issues arose Ship translated seamlessly. It was definitely on the list to be expanded.

  More recently, they were into personal weapons, something neither of them had been keen to carry in the early days while they were effectively on a peace mission to make friends and gain influence. It was nonetheless becoming increasingly evident that at some point they were going to have to protect themselves in a less passive manner.

  Zeke was experimenting with the new TR Beam gun derived from a pattern in the library that he now had access to.

  It was a modification of the tractor beam technology and when the trigger was depressed it fired a short tractor beam chunk at the assailant and depending on the setting, it either flattened them and knocked them unconscious with a pressure blast, or if on a narrow setting it sent a tight beam straight through a block of six inch steel while maintaining killing power beyond the other side.

  Its range wasn’t great, it was a close quarter weapon and Ship had keyed it into the same implant they used for communicating with it giving them total control over how the weapon was used. It was useless without the implant.

  It took practice to fire because the commands to set levels from one to six were given mentally through the implant, while the ability to fire was kept with the trigger finger, thereby requiring physical intervention to shoot someone.

  Zeke could think of other uses for the weapon, but was keen to keep ideas to himself until the need arose.

  Now, they were in a position of having to go to the surface and start a ruck with the Russians. Bearing in mind these people rarely took orders from anyone, it wasn’t going to be a pleasant experience for anybody.

  Necessary though, thought Zeke as he checked off his points before D-Jumping to the meeting in Moscow Central. He would need to get all of the major powers onto the same page before moving onto the next phase. If the Russians wouldn’t play ball now, they would oppose them in the future. Stubborn is as stubborn does, he remembered.

  Zeke told Ship to jump him only, Zirkos was going to stay behind and keep watch for surprises and besides Zeke did so well when he was on his own.

  He materialised within the meeting room. Ship had placed him close to a wall so he wouldn’t get jumped from behind before his shield took full control. They had got the delay down to half a second, but since the Samurai sword incident they had been a little coy in just walking into a bear trap.

  There were four people in the room. Every one of them was armed, they also had their personal forcefields on. Either they didn't trust each other, or they were anticipating trouble. Zeke decided the former was the problem.

  Zeke held his weapon in his hand, he currently had the advantage.

  “Gentlemen, I know I wasn’t invited to this meeting, so I invited myself.” He informed them in perfect Cossack Russian.

  They whirled around to face him, guns coming out of jackets and belts as he approached them. As they recognised him from earlier visits and realised he was also protected by a Personal field, they backed off keeping their guns in front of them. Zeke silently commanded Ship to remove their weapons.

  As their hands emptied their eyes changed from aggression to alarm. They had yet to see the full extent of passive defence that could be achieved by Ship, most of them weren’t necessary. Zeke was now the only one armed.

  Russians like their toys, but it didn’t mean they were harmless without them. He kept a respectful distance from them, shields aside he didn’t want to get that close to human killing machines.

  “Now, it has come to the attention of our people that you are deliberately refusing to support the manufacturing of this new technology because it defeats your oppressive system of intimidation and control of your own people. That’s very sad,” he concluded.

  “I completely understand your sense of loss as you would no longer have the ability to kill, maim or beat into submission the people who cannot pay you, distribute your drugs, or steal for you.”

  He waved his gun a little ostentatiously.

  “This is so, yes?”

  No comment.

  “So, what should we do about this little problem that needs to ‘how do you like to say it in Russia ’go away’?”

  He turned to the big bear dressed in Armani, his unruly unkempt beard didn't fit his dress sense. His eyes baleful and full of malice as he tried to make Zeke cower from his presence alone. Typical Russian, Zeke thought. So many years of living off of a fearsome reputation they themselves were now afraid of losing the control they wielded.

  Zeke smiled, all the time thanking the stars he had the shield and a quick D-Field exit should he need it. It was almost a shame
that he never got the chance to test his extraordinary strength and speed at all. The risks were always deemed impractical. However, this was one time he wouldn't have argued. The Russian, on his own, was formidable, with his comrades in arms, downright scary.

  “Novamursky, you are the money man behind this little Mafioso, yes?” It wasn’t really a question.

  “So, here’s the deal. If you want to keep all your money, stop strangling the businesses that need to invest in the machinery to build the equipment to manufacture the shields. I suggest you charge no more than a half percent interest rate. I think that would be perfectly acceptable. Agreed?” Zeke nodded his head trying to get him to agree.

  Novamursky didn’t move except to lick his lips, his eyes furtively looking at the others for their reaction.

  The man next to him was fat, greasy and of probable Italian, or Sicilian descent judging by his black hair, olive skin and meatball gravy on his suit. He was a greedy man. Zirkos and Zeke had watched his operation for weeks waiting to see what they were going to do with the opportunity to gear up all the factories for this moneymaking operation.

  “Putschinski, your control of the factory workers is such that they will do anything that you ask, and I am asking, so you need to pay attention.” Zeke tapped his gun on the wooden surface in front of him.

  The table was the only thing standing between them at this moment. The noise seemed overly loud in the room.

  “I want all workers to be given your unions’ full support in setting up the manufacturing plants to get these shields built. I know you will want to control the overtime and the shift pay, but I warn you to be scrupulously fair, or my people will land and take over your operation and drop you into the middle of Siberia with no shoes on.”

  They had already rescued one poor manager who had tried hard to convince Putschinski and who had been beaten up and left shoeless in the forest miles from Moscow. He would have been dead in minutes from the cold. Instead he had a warm reception in the space lounge before being returned home to await news. They had dozens more just like him.

  Putschinski blanched, as he realised they were aware of his favourite means of dealing with dissidents. Safe in the knowledge that he or his men were innocent of any murder, they let nature do their job for them. The wolves got fed, the rumour mills kicked in and Putschinski never had to do anything more than just mention how cold it could get for people to suddenly become pliant and agreeable to his demands.

  Zeke heard a chuckle in his ear and realised it was Zirkos listening in.

  “Now I know transportation is a serious issue, so here is my simple offer to you,” he said, turning to Romanov.

  “If you find that you are unable to collect and deliver all of the necessary materials and finished products in a timely and productive manner, I promise I will come down and personally test out my new fleet of anti gravity vehicles to manage it for you. They are all controlled by robots so none of your drivers would be required.”

  Romanov looked a decidedly angry red colour. He was definitely the most volatile of the lot.

  “I warn you Romanov, I can follow every single one of your trucks, drivers and every piece of cargo that moves inside Russian borders. I will know if you are not cooperating. You will not know anything from me until I remove you and your people.” The warning him left him nicely simmering.

  Zeke congratulated himself, politics was a breeze!

  “Now, Leibowitz,” Zeke turned to the last member of the little cabal.

  He was a nasty looking sort, not big like the others. He smoked black cheroot type cigarettes which reeked of camels dung and he always wore his black leather gloves. A fetish they had decided. He liked wearing the German round glasses that always seem to be fashionable amongst the certain few. His grey suit looked a little unkempt, as if he had worn it a few too many years. Too tight to buy a new one, Zeke suspected.

  “That’s not a Russian name, is it? East German? Ex Stasi, I would guess. You didn’t like the other side of the Berlin wall because you had no opportunity to ply your trade.”

  The only response was a single eyebrow raised as Leibowitz sucked on his cheroot nervously.

  “Well, I’m very sorry to say you are going to have to retire. We have every intention of ensuring everyone will have a protection shield which means your ability to fix problems for your friends will no longer be possible.”

  Zeke smiled at them all then.

  “We” he gestured including all of them in his sweeping hands, “are very grateful for your input, but we also know that some of your friends in West Germany have been looking for you for a while so, I have personally arranged for you to make an unscheduled visit to see them.”

  He smiled maliciously, he really didn’t like this little guy. He was an evil bastard who was just about to get his desserts.

  “You are leaving for a long holiday just about...... Now!” And with that Leibowitz disappeared.

  He would be most hurt to find he had been dropped into a holding cell at Interpol’s Berlin headquarters along with a pile of brown folders, photos and tapes retrieved from the hidden filing cabinets of his private apartments.

  Other such documents had been distributed amongst other western nations Police forces. A lot of case files would soon be made available to Nuremberg for prosecution of their new star genocidal killer.

  The other three had stepped back a little seeing their little fixer friend disappearing like that. Zeke thought it was probably a good message to leave them thinking about while he and Zirkos continued organising their replacements, that they had no doubt at all were going to be needed shortly.

  “So, Gentlemen,” he rubbed his hands together conspiratorially.

  He knew they wouldn’t understand the gesture, but keeping the body language on the attack all the time was something he was learning to do.

  “I will come back to see you three in one weeks’ time, we will meet here as now and I expect to hear from you that everything I have requested today is being delivered. Yes? Are we in agreement?”

  Zeke looked at them and noted their stubborn burning anger was showing. Thank god for personal shields he thought. Without it he had no doubt he would be torn limb from limb.

  “I do hope we are, gentlemen, because the alternatives are going to be so boringly predictable.”

  These were not people used to being talked to like that and Zeke was acutely aware of the battle they had on their hands. One they would win, but nonetheless they had to be given the opportunity to change.

  “Good. Thank you Gentlemen, nice doing business with you all,” and with that Ship D-Jumped Zeke back to the control room.

  Zirkos was laughing, which was funny to watch. It was something that had infected him since they had met, as a lot of human mannerisms seemed to. If it hadn’t been the silvery tint to his skin, he would have been as human as the rest of us.

  “What do you think, next week? Ambush or compliance?” Zeke smiled, relieved the confrontation was finally over.

  “Oh! Ambush, for sure,” he reckoned, “they were not at all happy with you. I think they will attempt to overpower you with numbers, or something we haven’t yet considered.”

  “Yes, I suggest we undermine their power base over the next week. We have enough people in place on the ground down there now that can take over when the time comes.”

  Zeke thought for a moment.

  “I will go down and talk to Nublenko, he needs to know his cells are going to fill up this coming week.”

  “Ship? do me the honour of putting me into Nublenko’s office please.”

  Nublenko was in the middle of roasting a young recruit when Zeke appeared behind the poor lad.

  “Mr Callaghan, your timing is perfect, please tell this poor excuse of a police officer that the force shields will be here soon. So, he won’t have to worry about getting his pretty face shot up.” He looked back at the officer and tossed his head towards the door.

  The poor lad got the message
and skidded out relieved to be free of his roasting.

  “Petrov, its been a difficult week.” Zeke began hands splayed out in the Italian mob’s style of placating mannerisms.

  They laughed, both knowing the problems that were dogging them all.

  “Okay, here’s the real deal, Petrov. The whole thing is about get really exciting.” I grinned, rubbing my hands gleefully. The meeting with the Mobsters had got my adrenalin running.

  “How much room do you have in your cells? I added hurriedly, “If I fill them, can you process them?”

  “Hah! the jails in this place are bigger than the offices.” He threw his hands out indicating the size of the place. It was huge.

  “They used to be the ones used by the KGB and GRU. You could put an army in here and lose them for a year and when you found them you would discover they had eaten half their men and used the bones to begin digging tunnels to the outside,” he laughed at his own humour.

  Zeke suspected that it was in part true, and wasn’t prepared to consider which part that might be.

  “Right, then listen to this. We have just set up a showdown with your Mob leaders and things are going to get a little rough. We will do what we can to keep it away from your officers and the innocent public, but I need to store the soldiers until its over. You can do what you like with them when we have finished.”

  Petrov’s eyes widened as Zeke told him of their intentions. He hadn’t ever seen them in action properly, but had a fair idea of what they could do, especially the disappearing and arriving bit. He had no doubt that his jails were going to fill up. He just hadn’t quite come to terms with how full they were going to be.

  Zeke needed to get some kind of visual of the jails so Nublenko showed him through the main central jails and they were, indeed, enormous and dank, somewhere no-one would want to be except as a fleeting visitor. He imagined the people who had been incarcerated here in the past with no hope of reprieve. Zeke sighed, humans were real bastards most of the time.