Triton – 01 sf-3

by Randolph Lalonde

  Finn crossed the compartment to him and checked his friend's head. “Yup, I just woke up in medical, all in one piece like nothing happened. All I remember before that is trying to open that damned door and a bright flash.”

  Price just smiled and blinked his round eyes, staring at Finn. His breathing came hoarsely. “Finn?” he stumbled forward and embraced his friend with enthusiasm.

  He laughed and hugged him back. “They used a tactical computer called Minuteman to put me back together along with a few billion nanobots and about eighty pounds of reconstructive material.”

  Price stepped away and put his hand against Finn's face. “Ashley is going to be so happy, and Stephanie! The way she sees it you gave your life for hers. She does not show how much she appreciates it openly while she's sober. You should be ready to be tackled. I suggest you only meet one of them at a time.” His breathing was still rough sounding, like there was some obstruction in his throat.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, only a little…” he took a deep breath and let it out. “Emotional. We were sure you weren't coming back. There wasn't much left,” he whispered. “But we didn't let Ashley see.”

  “Good. To be honest, I don't want to see either. That's one experience I don't want to remember that vividly.” He looked to the Big Surprise to see what Price had been doing. “That's for me?”

  “Aye, I had been putting it off, but after the memorial a few days ago I had to.”

  “Memorial?”

  “So much has happened Finn.”

  Finn nodded, a little wide eyed. “Tell me about it. Captain owns the Triton now and everywhere I look there's a crew member I've never met. I've even heard there are two bars on board?”

  “Aye, maybe that would be the best place for me to fill you in. We could call down Ashley and Stephanie as well. I'm the tactical officer here, by the way.”

  “Congratulations,” Finn said earnestly.

  “I'm wondering if the Captain will want you on the bridge like he did on the Samson. They're still filling positions.”

  “Well, maybe we could talk about it over a drink. I know I could use one.”

  “You speak my thoughts, friend,” Price said, putting his thin hand on Finn's shoulder. “We missed you.”

  The Night Watch

  It was late. The night watch had been on for three hours when Stephanie finally started for her quarters. She had started her duty before day watch was on shift. Repairs were almost finished, training was going well but everyone was still learning about the ship and maintenance, engineering and security staff were all in the high demand. They were also doing training simulations and live drills. The schedule was full.

  Captain Valance had made exploring the rest of the ship a priority. As a result she constantly had at least two squads moving through the ship. Slowly picking through compartments that hadn't been opened for decades, finding anything she could possibly imagine in spaces she'd never expect.

  Someone had even converted an empty torpedo tube into three laundry drums. The compartment had sealed perfectly during an emergency of some kind and since no one had ever gone back to empty the makeshift barrels or turn the environmental controls back on what was inside was rotten mush. Whatever the clothes were made of had broken down into something no one wanted to deal with.

  People were finally starting to settle into life on the ship though. With two large observation lounges open, called bars by the crew, and inebriating beverage rationing in place on the materializers, people even had a place to socialize and unwind without worrying about getting too intoxicated.

  She normally made a stop in the lower lounge, the bar popular with security and intelligence crew at the end of her duty shift, but she had been on for nineteen hours. It had been a good day, however. The Captain had made an hour long appearance in a boarding simulation and made a very good impression on everyone. She knew he was there to blow off steam, but her staff benefited from watching him move with precision, speed and great tactical expertise. Stephanie knew him well enough to just enjoy the show, he treated the sim like a game and at his level of experience it did no harm.

  People were starting to respect her more every day as well. It would take more time, but people were falling in line, finding their places and looking to her for direction.

  Stephanie was completely in her own head as she rounded the corner. Barely paying attention to the long, broad hall ahead as she automatically made her way to her quarters.

  “By my count you still owe me one girlfriend,” Frost boomed at her as he came out of the lift behind.

  Starting at the sudden sound, she spun and glared at him. “That's the crudest thing I've ever heard.”

  He grinned back at her. “Too soon?”

  “There's never a good time for a crack like that,” she stood watching him, brow furrowed, her hands drawing back her long coat and settling on her hips. “She might have been on the wrong side but she deserves our respect.”

  His expression softened. “I'm sorry lass, the line in the sand's real deep for me, 'specially since she used me as a bridge over it.”

  Despite being offended, she had to admit he was right. She didn't like Grace much when everyone thought she was on their side, let alone after she'd exposed her as a spy. “I get it, all's forgiven Shamus.”

  Frost walked right up to her, nose to nose. He really wasn't more than five or six centimetres taller. “Love it when you call me by my first, lass,” he said through a crooked grin.

  Stephanie looked into his eyes, those clear blue grey eyes. “When I call you Shamus? It's your name isn't it?”

  “Aye, sounds better when you're sayin' it,” he said quietly.

  She glanced around, looking for anyone who might be looking on.

  “There's no one about, night watch is on a skeleton crew.”

  “You're fishing in the wrong pond Shamus,” she said with a tight lipped smile.

  “Poor girl, hasn't sunk in yet. We're swimmin' in an ocean now lass,” he put his hand on her waist and slipped it across her vacsuit to her back. “Have ta stay together more n' ever.”

  That feeling she had when he was helping her in the armoured suit, like she was wrapped in a natural moment and all the right things were happening, returned. Maybe she was just tired, but when he closed his eyes and his lips were just about to touch hers, her arms went around his neck and she kissed him back.

  Few people on board would even try to stand up to her, but he was cocksure. Everyone liked to watch her from a distance whether they were in training or sitting across the table in an observation lounge, but he would step up and stand right in front of her after being the most obnoxious sod on the ship. He looked like a burly lout, but when she leaned into him, felt his big arms around her, it felt indescribably good. To her surprise there was nothing rushed in his kiss, and that magnetism just held her to him, made her feel like she was suddenly part of a pair.

  The Freedom Tower

  System security was the responsibility of Forward Admiral Rice. Her political push to have Jonas Valent located had crumbled when Regent Galactic threatened to add Freeground to its long list of enemies. The Admiralty was displeased and had to make an example of the Admiral and her associates. They pushed back and she was given a distant, although prestigious post on guard at the first colony settled by the Freeground nation.

  The first significant structure built was a tall, needle like tower. Over one hundred thousand Freeground citizens were housed there while most of the outer townships were home to the prisons and work camps. The untamed wilds discovered in the newly named planet Dumuzi were filled with animals that reminded the populace of Earth's oxygen breathing creatures. The major difference between them and what was known from ancient Earth was how hardened the creatures of Dumuzi were after surviving the violent changes that had occurred over the recent centuries.

  The planet had only begun recovering from a stage of wide scale volcanic development, and they had settled
on the largest continent capable of supporting life. The short, squat terraforming structures sat on the coastlines, helping the excess carbon dioxide process into breathable air.

  Before they had arrived they had discovered a jungle growing out of a surviving vegetative mass. Some time after initial landfall they discovered an entire food chain was fighting its way back from near extinction. With the help of the Lorander terraformers and Freeground workforce they expected the forested area to double in the next three months.

  The view of the nearing forest's edge from the high Freedom Tower in the center of the smaller trio of towns was better every day. Farms were already growing a natural food supply and soon it would be more efficient to eat what was cultivated rather than materialized meals.

  None of these things were at the forefront of Admiral Rice's mind as she walked through the green and white hallway of the Freedom Tower restricted areas. There were a few things she had to check on, and she saved the best for last.

  She waited patiently as the security system for the Freedom Tower Special Projects laboratory scanned her on a molecular level. After a moment the door opened and she walked through, making sure that it closed right behind her.

  “Welcome back Admiral,” Doctor Anderson said as he examined detailed cellular holograms above a long white table. “Come to see how she's doing?”

  “Why else would I make the journey. My shuttle was in orbital gridlock for three hours.”

  “What's another three hours after five years?” He said with a shrug, knowing that finding even the barest thread of humour in her had been next to impossible for years. The Admiral, as he called her these days, had gone emotionally bankrupt long ago as far as he was concerned. His holodisplay shut down with a button stroke and he closed the vertical blinds.

  Admiral Rice waited patiently in front of a display wall. In earlier days it was covered in genetic information, works in progress that all had critical deadlines. As she looked at it there was only the mysterious electrochemical matrix of a human brain, the careful conduction of guided memory to form the full realization of a naturally formed personality, or the nearest facsimile anyone could have dreamed possible.

  Doctor Anderson walked to the side of the large display board, stretching two and a half meters tall and four meters across. “That's mostly for decoration now. The memories are all in place, even adjusted muscle memories, which were the hardest part.”

  “I know Doctor,” the Admiral said impatiently.

  “On with the show then,” he said to himself quietly as he entered the code to draw the two dimentional display aside.

  Behind it was a transparent artificial womb. Within it's synthetic flesh was a blonde woman, a little too short, not of the desired social weight but still well proportioned in a fetal position. She was fully grown, to see her anywhere else someone would think she was just another early to mid twenties woman.

  “She looks so much like her great grandmother,” Admiral Rice said in awe, walking up to the soft outer layer and putting her hand on it. The occupant turned towards the ripple in her protective home. “Does she know I'm here?”

  “She's unconsciously aware of everything around her. I talk to her constantly and sleep in the lab most nights. She prefers Wagner and she very nearly dances when I play Magic Fire Music from Die Walkure.”

  “I should have recorded my voice for her.”

  “I tried to tell you,” Doctor Anderson said quietly.

  The Admiral gave him a dark look. “What does it matter, when she wakes she'll remember everything Ayan did right up to five years ago.”

  “You mean right up until you gave up on your only daughter.”

  “Don't you dare-”

  “When you brought me onto this project you gave away all your power. If anything about this were to slip out to the Admiralty they'd have your head. I'm just here following orders.”

  “But you wouldn't do that, she's as much your child as she is mine.”

  “I'll do anything to protect her, but only because I know if Ayan had a choice to be born without any genetic meddling that's the road she would have taken. If you'd have been brave enough to show her what you were doing with the scan you had made of her, she would have applauded it. This isn't a clone as you originally requested, this is what should have been,” his words were clear and loud enough, but they were spoken gently for the benefit of his captive audience.

  “So you've managed to eliminate all the imperfections?”

  Doctor Anderson laughed quietly and nodded. “What I consider imperfections. The genetic modifications are gone. Everything from the enhanced physical aptitudes to her adjusted phenomenal balance to the one that ensured she'd have red hair. What's left is the code as it should have been. No growth therapy or acceleration was used either.”

  “Is she ready?”

  “Not quite. She's still experiencing the last of the memories in the scan, Jason and Laura's wedding.”

  “I wouldn't have chosen that as her last.”

  “Because Laura and Jason are both missing? Written off by the military? I was at that wedding, it was a great time. There were so many friends there, a lot of them from the First Light. Her toast as the maid of honour was fantastic, you could barely tell she was ill.”

  Admiral Rice sighed as she looked at the young woman. “I wish we could have taken the bad times away. If only we could have scanned her before the Sunspire. ”

  “Just like she needs someone here so she can listen to someone else's heart, hear their voice and experience the world through a filter of a womb to have a good subconscious foundation to work from and a starting point of well being, she needs those negative experiences for a complete personality. Without hardship we don't appreciate good times or know how to deal with life when things are less than ideal.”

  “I know, Doctor. What will the birth be like?”

  “Well, since there's no point in putting her through a simulated natural birthing experience, we'll be waking her up once she's out of the chamber and clean. I've had an apartment prepared and one of us can tell her what's happened,” Doctor Anderson said quietly as he walked from the control board to Ayan herself and put his hand on her knee. “Do you want to be the first person she sees?”

  Admiral Rice looked at the second inception of her daughter for a long moment. Her curled long hair was kept out of her face using mild fluid control so she could see her innocent heart shaped visage. She was so afraid of who this young woman would be, what would become of her. There would be no sickness, no guilt over genetic modifications she'd ordered for her daughter. Hopefully just the opposite. The guilt over the first Ayan gripped her, filled her with fear when she tried to think about what she would do differently given a second chance. “You should explain it to her. We weren't close five years ago.”

  “All right,” he said softly. “But only if you're certain. Waking her up yourself and explaining things could be a good way to start things in the right direction.”

  Admiral Rice shook her head; “I don't know what I'd say. Besides, coming from you it would be less of a shock.”

  “All right, just keep it in mind.”

  “Does she have dimples?” Admiral Rice asked, looking more closely. Her daughter was smiling at some unknowable experience.

  “Yes, and she'll have a little acne and probably need to exercise more than before to keep in the shape she's used to or take fitness medication.”

  “You couldn't keep any modifications?”

  “I told you, nothing. If she's going to have another chance without any disorders everything had to be reverted to her ancestrally developed genetic makeup. I had to go back centuries for a reference point. Standard modifications like anti-ageing, disease fortification and chemical balancing can be added later, it's up to her. When she wakes up she may not feel the same, that's a foregone conclusion, in fact she should feel much better,” he looked at the young woman through the many gelatinous layers of the artificial womb and smiled.
“Ayan will have the chance at life she deserved.”

  “She was so beautiful before.”

  “So much more now,” he stepped back, inviting her to do the same and closed the chamber off. “Is it true that Ayan stole the Silkstream Four?”

  Admiral Rice looked at him unknowing for a moment, then realized he was talking about her original daughter, the first Ayan. “Yes, her and Laura. They're off to find Jonas.”

  “From what my connections tell me they'll find him. His home port is public. We should have had a message sent weeks ago.”

  “I tried everything I could to help her find him.”

  “If that were the case it would have happened a long time ago.”

  “You have no right to accuse me-”

  “I have every right. You abandoned her when you saw a better option come along. I should have tried to delay this project until Ayan, the Ayan that matters right now, had passed on. You should be at her side, even if it takes you across the galaxy. Instead you wrote her off and started over.”

  “There was nothing I could do,” Admiral Rice said helplessly.

  “Bullshit! Even with that tactical computer they stole Ayan's dead by now. Where are you? You're standing beside a replacement, not even taking the time to mourn. Your daughter is dead, dead and you have no idea where she lived her last moments, how she was feeling or who, if anyone, was watching over her!”

  Admiral Rice just stared at him, her wide eyes tearing up.

  He went on, stepping to within just a meter of her. “Do you know why I really took this project on? Because I knew this would happen! I knew that days before this young woman's birth you'd stand there criticizing what you consider flaws, picking at perceived imperfections. Look at her! Just look! She's a perfectly healthy woman and when she feels comfortable in her skin she'll be charming, unique, intelligent and possess all the skills and personality traits she valued. If she wants any permanent genetic modifications made when she's able to decide for herself they'll work much better than they would on any of us. Why? Because you allowed me to strip away all the extras and modifications, revert her genetic code back to what nature intended. There will be no complications, no strange diseases or mutations to consider. She will be everything she's meant to be in this second chance. That's everything we want our children to start with. Now go, mourn your daughter somewhere where people aren't saluting you, where no one knows who you are. I'll be here making sure this young woman's entry into this universe is as it should be. She'll know where she comes from. Eventually, when she asks, I'll even tell her what happened to the first-”