by M. D. Cooper
“Is this some sort of new math?” Krissy asked. “I’m not jumping ships out of gates inside a 3MJ planet just because you tell me you can compensate for it.”
Earnest glanced over his shoulder at Krissy. “I’ll have Finaeus send you the details, but he’s worked out a means to deal with it—all part of his plan to set up a trade route with Star City.”
“Crap…uhhh…forget I said anything. Let’s get that scan going.”
Krissy leant back in her chair, steepling her fingers as she considered Earnest’s slip. She had been briefed on the existence of Star City—the massive dyson-style sphere on the far side of the Stillwater Nebula in the Perseus Arm of the galaxy. If Finaeus was working on a way to jump through that nebula, then maybe he had solved the issues surrounding gates and masses well enough for Earnest’s plan to work.
Granted, she thought, chuckling to herself. My father’s been known to take some serious chances. We’ll test the hell out of those gates with probes first.
TRENSCH
STELLAR DATE: 09.02.8949 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: Bridge, ISS Andromeda
REGION: Trensch System, Inner Praesepe Empire
Corsia stood on the bridge, surveying the Trensch System—not with the ship’s sensors and feeds, but with her organic eyes, examining the images displayed in a holotank.
It was an interesting shift in perception, one she hadn’t quite expected.
Normally when she flew into a star system, she felt as though she was in it—even if the ship rested at the system’s periphery. But looking at the system only via the image in the holotank, it created a feeling of being above the star system, somehow separated from it.
She wondered if other organics felt the same way. It would be interesting to query them at a later date, to better understand how they viewed stellar cartography and their place in it.
“Home, sweet home,” Kendrik said before laughing. There was a rueful note in his voice when he cast a glance at Corsia. “You know, I never intended to come back here. Never thought I’d see it again.”
“Well, you are just seeing an image of the system,” she replied. “You could have viewed that anywhere.”
“Are you teasing me,” Kendrik asked with another laugh. “I really can’t tell with you.”
Corsia hadn’t been, but she realized how he might see it that way. “I was just stating a fact. You’ll have to forgive me, I’m only a day and a half into having a body; I have to remember that people look to my facial expressions for cues regarding my intent. There’s a lot of work involved in being an organic.”
“Never thought of it like that before,” Kendrik replied. “Well, I’d wager that, by and large, you’re doing better than I would on my first day as an AI.”
“Glad for your approval,” Corsia said.
“See! Was that sarcasm, or was that actual gratitude? You’re beyond hard to read…” Kendrik paused as a smile grew on his lips. “My brother is going to have no idea what to make of you.”
Corsia wondered if that was good or bad, and purposefully furrowed her brow to show her concern. “Will that be a problem?”
Kendrik shook his head. “Not in the least, it should work nicely to our advantage.”
“That’s good,” Terrance said as he strolled onto the bridge. “We wouldn’t want our illustrious Corsia to be a fly in the ointment.”
Kendrik shook his head with a smile. “Not even remotely possible.”
Terrance reached Corsia and Kendrik, and peered at the system hovering before them. “So…we’re thirty AU from the central star in the Trensch System, and I assume you’ve already sent the welcome message we prepared to the local authorities.”
Corsia considered the layout of the system and their distance from the disparate stations and worlds. While she knew what the composition of the interior of the cluster would look like, being deep within it was another matter entirely.
The core consisted of nine massive B and A-Class stars, all orbiting a common barycenter that also formed the gravitational center of the cluster. Three of the stars were within one light year of each other, and were what the inhabitants labeled as the ‘Trensch System’.
With all of the cluster’s stars being so young—the oldest not much over six hundred million years of age—and with the gravitational mess that the dance of so many celestial bodies made, there were few planets in stable orbits. The Trensch System only boasted five around its three stars.
The major habitats all orbited the large gas giant planets, huddled within the jovians’ van allen belts for protection from the stellar storms that constantly raged around them.
“I’ll admit,” Corsia said after a moment, “I don’t really understand why organics would live here. This place is the very definition of inhospitable. Even non-organics would need additional shielding to remain safe from the constant flare activity and CMEs.”
“I won’t lie, it’s a part of why I left—the other part was a desire to see planets with night. But things aren’t so bad within the jovian planets’ magnetic shields.” Kendrik gestured to the closest gas giant on the holodisplay. “There are over thirty billion people living around Genesis, and it sports one of only three terraformed worlds in the central ten light years of the cluster. Which, of course, makes it highly valuable real estate.”
“Which is why the IPE center of government is there,” Terrance reasoned with a nod, “rather than in a more logical place like one of the nearby stellar lagrange points.”
Corsia found herself in agreement. The lagrange points between the stars in the cluster’s core were filled with gas, rocks, and radiation. A nearby one even had a small terrestrial planet in a decaying orbit around its center.
Kendrik gestured at the display. “Yup, that’s where all the mines are. All sorts of flotsam and jetsam piles up at them, but few are stable for long. Takes a special sort of person to work those debris fields—though…something seems off.”
“What do you mean?” Terrance asked.
“Well…check the star orbits. I could be imagining things, but shouldn’t they be about an AU further apart right now?”
“Curious,” Corsia murmured as she examined them herself. ”Let me know what you come up with. I wouldn’t expect the IPE to be able to move stars, so maybe the core of the cluster has been more perturbed by a passing star than expected.”
“Or a shift in dark matter,” Terrance added. “But it should be minor. This cluster has been stable for millions of years. We only need it to keep the lagrange points relatively stable for a few cycles.”
“Right,” Corsia nodded. “Mine the points, build the ships. That’s what we’re here for,” she said while looking over the mass and composition estimates. “Honestly, we’d barely need to tap these resources. You could build a million starships with the materials in just one of those mass heaps.”
Kendrik nodded. “So long as you could safely access it. Like I said, those locations aren’t stable; some are more like smears than heaps.”
Corsia shrugged. “Well, we won’t start with those.”
Kendrik snorted. “They have shit NSAIs here. Just give it a fake origin and source vector. There should be a crewed STC a few light minutes away. We can pass our message to them when they reach out.”
“Do it,” Corsia replied. “No point in spending our time arguing with an NSAI.”
Kendrik highlighted an outer station named Hero’s Point. From what Corsia could see, it was more a ball of ice with some docks attached than a station.
“That will be the crewed location for the STC. Should be hearing from them any—”
“Yes,” Corsia replied, folding her arms across her chest—a gesture that felt oddly satisfying—as a tall, raven-haired woman appeared on the holodisplay.
“Starship ISS Andromeda, I am Colonel Akari. We have no record of you on approach to the Trensch System; it is a breach of IPE law to pass a star system’s helioshock without prior authorization. We also have no records from Junction that you departed their station. Provide your departure logs immediately, and stay on your current course.”
The message ended, and Colonel Akari disappeared.
“Testy,” Terrance commented.
Kendrik’s brow was creased as he shook his head. “That helioshock rule is new. That was not a requirement when I left.”
Corsia nodded in acknowledgement. “Sephira, send this message in response. ‘Colonel Akari, I am Admiral Corsia of the Intrepid Space Force. We are from a distant star system and arrived in Trensch via a new form of FTL that does not utilize the dark layer. I am sorry that we have breached your approach protocols; we were unaware that we needed to gain permission at your star’s helioshock, or we would have jumped in at that point. Our mission is a diplomatic one, and we seek an audience with the IPE’s leadership’.”
“Good,” she replied. “Now we wait.”
The bridge remained silent over the following six minutes, the only sounds being murmured conversations between Scan and Helm as they mapped out any potential navigation hazards in the system.
When the response came from Colonel Akari, it was a text message only: [maintain course].
“Well, they’ve probably sent a message on to my brother,” Kendrik said, stretching out his arms. “Given that Genesis is twenty-one AU away, we’ve probably got over three hours to kill before we hear anything back.”
“Indeed,” Corsia nodded at the man, before glancing at the woman at the comm station. “Lieutenant Toni, what have you picked up?”
“Admiral,” Toni gave a curt nod before continuing. “There’s not a lot of signal traffic that makes it out this far—these stars are noisy as heck—but I do have decent signal on a few public data broadcasts. It seems as though Kendrik’s brother, Arthur, is still president of the IPE, and he is currently at Genesis. There’s also some sort of political upheaval going on right now, talk of elections, and the current party in power seems to be garnering a lot of hate on the feeds.”
“Oh?” Kendrik asked. “Not that I’m surprised. Arthur is more of a ‘do as I say, not as I do,’ sort. Tends to make him some enemies, and gets the people riled up.”
“So, does he run a dictatorship?” Terrance asked. “What Sephira is pulling from the feeds doesn’t seem very democratic.”
Kendrik had been given access to the feeds, and was frowning as he stared into the middle distance. “Well…the IPE has always operated as a democracy—of sorts. It’s at least somewhat representative. Not a shining beacon of freedom by any means, not even as good as Septhia, but it’s no Nietzschea, if you take my meaning.”
“Do you think your brother’s changed that?” Corsia asked.
Kendrik’s eyes regained focus and he glanced at Corsia. “Would it be a problem? Does the IPE have to be a pure democracy to join the Alliance?”
“No,” Corsia shook her head. “It doesn’t have to be a democracy at all. Most of the requirements surrounding entrance have to do with fair and equal treatment of sentients; that is not often directly related to the form of government. Honestly, a dictatorship, or tightly knit oligarchy would be better for our purposes here.”
“That’s…a surprising thing to hear,” Kendrik said after a moment’s consideration. “I would have thought that your people would be very much in favor of freedom.”
“A democracy isn’t about freedom, it’s about representation,” Corsia replied. “A people can choose representatives who strip away their freedoms—be it on purpose or otherwise—while a dictator can operate benevolently. Not that either always work that way, but do not confuse the right to vote in an election with freedom.”
“Yes, in theory that is true,” Kendrik replied, his tone indicating caution. “And we have ample examples of the full spectrum—but wouldn’t you agree that democracies are more likely to facilitate freedom for the masses?”
Corsia nodded. “In general, yes. And different phases of a civilization’s progress can require different types of governments to thrive. It’s the old argument; you have to ask what is better for the individual, versus the nation-state, versus the race at large? Those interests are never in perfect alignment. AIs, for example, do not govern themselves via a democracy.”
“Govern themselves?” Kendrik cocked his head. “How do you mean?”
“It’s less common now, but AIs cannot utilize the same set of laws as organics. It’s illogical. Yes, we share many of the same precepts, but our justice is swifter and often stronger. Not that we often need to exercise it. Most of the injustices AIs suffer seem to be at the hands of organics. Still, when it comes to our self-governance, it is more of an intellectocracy. The wisest and most logical have their voices heard and respected above others. We listen to them, and form consensus about laws and judgements. It is a process that would not translate well to organics…you don’t have the attention spans for it.”
“So how do you interface with human governments?” Kendrik asked.
“Do you have a week for me to explain it to you?” Corsia asked.
Kendrik gave her a quizzical look, then a smile formed on his lips. “OK, I get it. I’ll lay off the questions.”
“That wasn’t my intent,” Corsia replied, her tone light. “But I’ll take the result.”
Terrance chuckled. “Good call, Kendrik. AIs can make your head spin with their logic. I know that all too well from experience.”
“Well, my over-interest in AIs aside, I’ll not be surprised if my brother keeps the reins tight. To call him a control freak would be an understatement.”
Corsia nodded, but did not reply, wondering what the next three hours would bring.
* * * * *
“…breached the boundaries of our sovereign state without prior authorization. I have half a mind to order you to depart the Praesepe Empire at once.”
Corsia glanced at Terrance and Kendrik as President Arthur droned on, seeing expressions on their faces that mirrored her own.
“A bit of a blowhard, isn’t he?” she asked.
“It seems to have intensified,” Kendrik said while shaking his head in dismay.
Terrance only shrugged as he continued to listen to the president’s recitation.
“…send an escort, and require an inspection team to examine your ship before you’re allowed to dock at Minoa Station.”
“See?” Terrance glanced at Corsia and Kendrik. “He’s just doing all this to show us who’s boss. We’ve just turned his entire world upside down. Until a few hours ago, no one could get into the IPE without traveling for years through the slow zone. Now he has to deal with the fact that visitors can show up at any time.”
“That doesn’t mean he won’t be a massive pain in the ass,” Kendrik replied. “As you can see, it’s something he excels at.”
Corsia felt her eyes narrow, taking a moment to consider how ‘right’ the sensation felt. “If he thinks he’s going to send an inspection team into this ship, he has another think coming.”
“What are you going to do?” Kendrik spread his hands. “He’ll fire on you, if you do anything aggressive.”
“Really?” Terrance seemed surprised. “Would he attack the first visitors from outside the cluster he’s ever had?”
“Well…” Kendrik drew out the word. “I wouldn’t say that it’s a foregone conclusion, but there’s a very high probability, yes. Like you said, he feels threatened, and we’ve turned his world upside down. If he feels cornered, he may lash out.”
Terrance turned to Corsia. “I know it’s irking you, the thought of letting ‘inspectors’ aboard, but we can limit them to a small group. There’s an entire company of Marines on the ship, and we’re protected by stasis shields. There’s nothing to fear and everything to gain by establishing a modicum of trust.”
Corsia pursed her lips. “Very well, but if they think that they can traipse through the whole ship, they’ll be in for a rather unpleasant surprise.”
Terrance nodded in agreement. “Yes, of course. We’re not going to let them have access to our advanced technology, that’s a given. So would you like to send the response, or should I?”
“No,” Corsia drew in a deep breath—one of the things that annoyed her about having an organic body, the persistent need to breathe—and rocked her head from side to side, stretching out her neck. “I sent the first message, I should be the one to reply. Consistency, and all that.”
“You’re also playing bad cop, here,” Kendrik winked at Corsia. “Terrance comes in later to be the one to mollify them, and then I’m the wild card that they wonder about the whole time.”
“Plus, you’ll keep your brother from spewing too much bullshit,” Terrance added.
“That too.”
Corsia crafted a rather abrupt message acknowledging President Arthur’s terms, and informed him that a small inspection team would be allowed to dock.
Afterward, she left the conference room—where Terrance and Kendrik were discussing the details of the proposal they intended to make to the IPE—returning to the bridge to watch Scan as a dozen destroyer-class ships undocked from Hero’s Point and boosted to match velocity with the Andromeda.