“I’m Detectant Perez, Freida Perez,” she said, extending her hand toward Alice. “I’m acting captain of one-fiver-Adam.” She tilted her head toward the docking platform. “I’m aboard Trident these days.”
Alice blinked several times and glanced down at Perez’s hand. Not finding it held handcuffs, she paused to pretend as if she’d been polishing her badge rather than removing it. “Honor to meet you, detectant,” Alice said. She shook hands with Perez and added, “I just wish it was under better circumstances.”
“Well, we have been very concerned.” Perez inspected Alice’s uniform and glanced at her shoulder bag. “This is not anything we’ve seen before. Frankly, it’s reckless, dangerous, and totally unprecedented.”
Flinching at almost all of Perez’s words, Alice felt a new wave of fear crash inside her, but also a swelling sense of confusion. The link-a-matron satellites were junk. Yes, targeting them wasn’t by-the-book, but Alice knew she hadn’t been reckless. There was no danger to anyone, and she had heard from other officers about their unauthorized targets, so this had plenty of precedent.
“I hate to drag you into all of this,” Perez said, frowning. “But I’m afraid we have no choice.”
Alice sighed and choked back a tear. “No, I understand. I mean, I am the one who shot at the damn things. I just didn’t think anyone would care about—”
Perez held up her right palm in front of Alice’s face, then said, “Wait, you’ve lost me.” She lowered her hand and pulled Alice aside. “What did you shoot?” she asked, whispering.
“Um, I thought you knew,” Alice replied.
“Knew what, officer?”
“The link sats. I targeted them in some practice with Detectant Magnaveer.” Stumbling further, Alice added, “Just some space junk billiards by Mercury.”
“You fired at them?”
Growing within Alice was a faint glimmer of optimism, which she fanned by punching a fist into her palm. “Yes, ma’am. Hit ‘em hard with both of our pellet launchers…”
“Oh…”
“And punched them right into a solar array! You should have seen the sparkle,” Alice added as her eyes widened, “when it smacked this old tug…”
“Wow!” Perez exclaimed.
They smiled at each other, appreciating their mutual secrets about a ritual few knew existed.
“Well,” Perez continued, “I wish I could have seen that.”
“It was quite a sight.” Alice set her shoulder bag on the floor. “But I was under the impression I was being taken into custody for violating rules and regulations about targeting space junk.”
Perez shook her head. “Since when does the CLF care about that garbage? Besides, I can tell you emphatically that we are not taking you into custody. What made you think that?”
“Well…uh, we received these messages.” Alice started to retrieve her compu-pad, but Perez waved her off.
“No need, Officer Mirza,” Perez said. “Must have been some sort of error by an administrative A.I. We have many more pressing needs at hand. That puss bucket, the Colonel, is wreaking havoc with his demands, and headquarters feels we need to assist Shineer Havlock, Squad Captain of Patrol Zone Charlie.”
“Oh, I’ve heard of him…” Alice puffed out her cheeks and raised her eyebrows.
“Yes,” Perez replied, “he’s a real shit clod.”
Alice bobbed her head side-to-side and raised her shoulders. “He’s no Maxo Magnaveer, that’s for sure.”
“Couldn’t agree more.” Perez squinted and looked around the terminal. “By the way, where is Maxo? Down in the commissary buying cinnamon?”
While Perez chuckled, Alice asked, “Haven’t you heard from him?”
“No, we haven’t been able to make contact with either of you since earlier today.”
Confusion idled in Alice’s brain and suspicion grew in her gut. Someone sent the inquiry, she thought, the one she read and responded to aboard Candy Lady.
“We were hoping,” Perez said, “to take you and Maxo, along with your beater, aboard Trident, then reinforce Havlock’s squad.”
Alice picked up her bag and slung it over her shoulder. “I’m here and the beater’s here, and we’re ready to go. Some lunch would be nice.” Rubbing her belly, Alice looked around the terminal and sniffed the air. The scent suggested to her tacos were on the cafeteria’s menu.
“Thirty minutes,” Perez said, “then report to Trident. But where is Maxo?”
“Well, not in the commissary buying cinnamon,” Alice said. She knew Maxo was taking a huge risk, one she didn’t condone. “He’s aboard a junker’s F-9350 transport that he commandeered.” She wished she’d talked to him sooner about the promotion, about how the job had other rewards. She never meant to insult his dedication to the CLF. “He’s in hot pursuit…” She just wanted him to see what everyone else saw, and hoped it wasn’t too late. “...Of that puss bucket, Colonel Zaza D’Rump.”
***
While Maxo went to talk with Leo and Ariel on Candy Lady’s drive deck, Captain Duffy slinked out of the conference chamber and walked over to Eli at his communications console.
“Earth’s in our vapor,” Cassy announced from her seat at the navigation controls. “Next stop, Daedalus.”
“Thank you, Cassy,” Duffy said.
Eli lowered his headset and took a sip of coffee. Looking at his control panel, he pointed at one of the displays and said, “Do you still want both CLF compu-pads locked into our on-board relays, or just Detectant Magnaveer’s?”
Candy Lady’s Quantum operating system included an innovative and very expensive command feature. Based on technology similar to the CLF’s flight systems override functionality, the F-9350 could serve as a shipping hub by acquiring, processing, and relaying communication signals. Its purpose was to centralize command and control of multiple tugs and transports, but Duffy activated it under the guise of space-faring cooperation when Maxo first attempted to contact them in Mercury’s debris field. This cut off the CLF connection to Maxo and Alice and put both compu-pads under the direct control of her boss, Spider. Since he did not have full Quantum operating system certification, Eli didn’t know this. He thought the connection served as a relay and not as anything more.
“I’m sure Officer Mirza-Cheong is safe at home by now,” Duffy responded, continuing the subterfuge. “No need to run her signal through us but do keep the detectant’s connection up and running. We don’t want him to lose contact with the CLF.”
She leaned in toward Eli until the young Digi’s peripheral vision detected her. As he glanced up and furrowed his brow, Duffy peered around the bridge and whispered, “Has he signaled us yet?”
Prone to making hand gestures while he spoke and fond of precision, Eli asked, “Spider?” while mimicking a crawling creature with the fingers of his right hand.
Duffy covered his hand with one of hers and nodded.
“None yet, Captain.”
Tilting her head, she narrowed her eyes and stared at Eli, then said, “You wouldn’t be deceiving me now, would you?”
“Not at all,” Eli replied.
Nodding, Duffy said, “Good, just checking. You know how loyalty is appreciated around here.”
Eli paused to consider what Duffy meant by ‘around here.’ Uncertain as to exact boundaries, he asked, “You’re talking about loyalty to you?” He drew circles with his hands. “Or do you mean here at my station? Or on the—”
“Don’t toy with me, Eli,” Duffy growled. “I know how some of you Digi-persons like to take liberties with your programming but remember your place. You do as you’re told, or else.”
Again, Eli felt confused, but staring at the finger Duffy pointed at the bridge of his nose, he understood just enough of the context to say, “Aye, Captain.” He slipped the headset back on and folded his hands in his lap.
***
Insulated from Candy Lady’s 500-megawatt DynaFusion reactor core by thick alloy panels, the drive deck’s control c
hamber was the quietest area aboard Candy Lady. That is, until someone played amplified music in it at a volume that could rearrange D.N.A. molecules.
As Maxo approached the chamber, he wondered why Digis would want to play music aloud at any volume. Their neural systems could simulate just about any physical effects without help from their sensory systems. Still, he didn’t mind, the song reverberating through the bulkheads was one he liked, a jaunty orchestral piece with didgeridoos, chants, and tapping sticks.
The music diverted his thoughts about Zeke’s comments, which had jarred him. But the song’s respite was brief. Maxo began to reflect on the day’s events, including the unauthorized destruction of link-a-matron satellites; rejection of his squad captain application; violation of additional rules and regulations by turning off his compu-pad while on duty; becoming the subject of a CLF internal investigation; hearing that there ‘was more to life than the CLF’; commandeering a ship he did not know how to operate; and collaboration with a suspected junker so he could maybe catch a criminal and get promoted.
For a moment, he felt detached and wondered who he was trying to be, just like he did when he was recuperating from his laser pistol incident. The energy bolt punctured his helmet, fried parts of his cranium, and irradiated the right side of his brain. Video footage was inconclusive due to the spot where the incident occurred. Limited camera views appeared to show Maxo stumbled while holstering his weapon. When med-techs arrived, he was semi-conscious. Transported by hopper to Solis et Novem’s nearby hospital, he was in a coma for weeks while regenerative treatments healed his physical wounds.
Medics, doctors, and the universe gave him a second chance. But for what? he wondered; all the while haunted by doubts that he made a difference. Getting better, then getting promoted would make him whole and show people that he mattered. Perhaps now, the capture of the Colonel and rescue of the colonists, Maxo thought, were the reasons he survived his furtive suicide attempt and gained a new purpose in life.
“Never better,” Maxo murmured, then waved through the glass porthole on the chamber’s entry hatch, hoping to catch the attention of Leo or Ariel. Leo waved back and signaled to Ariel to cut the music. With silence restored, Maxo popped the hatch and stepped inside. “Nice song,” he said. “Sounded like Dreamtime from the Southern Ocean Orchestra.”
“Crikey!” Ariel howled, “You heard of ‘em?”
Nodding, Maxo said, “Spent some time living with my father in Perth. The orchestra had just formed, and I’ve been a fan ever since.”
“Perth? Sorry to hear that,” Ariel said.
“Where are you from, Ariel?” Maxo asked.
“Adelaide! Boy, I miss it. Did you ever get there?”
“No, duty called,” Maxo explained. “My academy class was starting so I had to report to Toronto. Haven’t been Earthside since I graduated almost 20 years ago.”
“I’m from Vancouver,” Leo said, “in case anyone cares to know.” He rolled his eyes.
“Oh, Leo,” Ariel said, “you know we don’t care at all.” She laughed and winked at him, then turned to Maxo and asked, “Do you like my engine room, detectant? Have a Captain Cook.”
Maxo stepped further into the chamber. The layout reminded him of the DynaFusion core control room aboard Titan, an older Caprice assigned to Patrol Zone Adam he had once been aboard for training. He walked along a metal gantry around the glowing central core, glancing along the way at the computer consoles and screens which circled the room. Compared to Titan, everything here seemed a size or two bigger.
“Can’t wait to make full-speed,” Ariel said. “I know Captain Duffy says we need to wait, but that’s shy some. Quantum operating system or not, this drive is go!”
“Roger that, Ariel,” Maxo replied. “Oh, and just one more thing…” He walked over to the entry hatch and closed it. “I just...spoke with Zeke and learned he wasn’t very happy…with me.”
“Oh, that’s just Zeke,” Leo said. “He’s always mad at someone or something.”
“Thanks, Leo, but he did have a few good points.”
Maxo struggled with what he wanted to ask next, but then remembered something his clinical counselor brought up during rehabilitation sessions following injury from the laser pistol blast. Actions flow from feelings and thoughts. They discussed this to help Maxo better connect with his emotions about what was officially listed as an accident. I feel fine, he often said, never better. But now, it wasn’t just his life and CLF career that were at stake. He was endangering the crew of Candy Lady.
“Should we…should I be doing this?” Maxo asked.
***
The CLF’s Martian substation, named Themis after the Greek goddess of law and justice, was a large orbital facility housing nearly 2,000 officers, technicians, jailers, detainees, attorneys, judges, and support staff. Its round central tower was nine hundred meters tall and one hundred meters wide. The tower’s round base was twelve hundred meters in diameter and provided docking bays and ports for shuttles, beat boats, transports, and Caprices like Charger. Anchored near Themis was the CLF’s only dreadnought, the first of the Magistrate-class heavy cruisers, which was awaiting final staffing before its formal activation.
Carrying the two Comet interceptors and their pilots, Charger arrived at the station from Ceres and docked at one of the interior bays. Senior Patrol Officers Drake Dalton and Uma Sandberg supervised the Caprice’s operations and CLF technical staff piloted the vessel. While Dalton was on the bridge conducting flight shutdown procedures and awaiting the arrival of Captain Havlock and the other Caprices of Patrol Zone Charlie, Sandberg was in Charger’s detention compartment speaking with the Comet pilots, Toddy Nevins and Helga Korn.
Seated in front of a microphone on a pane of laser-proof window panels, Sandberg said, “I know, I know, you say you were on a scientific mission, but your boss is the most-wanted man in the solar system right now.”
“If we are under arrest, then where is our legal representation?” Toddy asked into a microphone on his side of the cell’s window. Behind him, Helga paced around the room and sounded as though she was mumbling about her intellectual superiority over CLF half-wits.
The tech corps Digi standing behind Sandberg, a young jailer named Marco, who had a buzzed, academy-style haircut, tapped her on the shoulder and said, “They’ll have access to a legal A.I. once aboard Themis.”
Instead of relaying this information, Sandberg nodded and stared at the two D’Rump employees in her custody. As a seasoned CLF patrol officer, she was a by-the-book cop, but circumstances strained her professionalism. The Colonel and his followers threatened millions of colonists on the planet just 200 kilometers below. Two of the colonists were Sandberg’s young daughters and another was her life partner, Andrea, who was a teacher in one of the colony’s school districts. Sandberg hoped for shore leave while docked at Themis but dismissed those thoughts since she knew all hands were needed to pursue and capture D’Rump. In silence, she suppressed the temptation to take out her anger on the two scientists in her custody and ignored their protestations.
Helga marched over to the window and leaned into the microphone in front of Toddy and said, “Our leader’s scientific curiosity is unrivaled. We were to make the first serious effort to measure gravitational shifts and test whether those are human caused. The future of humanity depends on this inquiry, and you have interrupted it! You don’t understand the damage you have caused!”
Just then, Charger’s on-board signal lights flashed yellow. A two-tone alarm signal accompanied the warning lights.
Evacuate? Sandberg wondered.
“All hands,” a digitized voice said over the intercom, “abandon ship. This is not a drill. All hands, abandon ship…”
“But we’re aboard Themis,” Marco the jailer said.
Sandberg stood up and pulled out her compu-pad and noticed a message from Dalton. “Nukes! They smuggled nukes aboard,” it stated. “Abandon ship and get away as fast as you can! The bombs are armed
.”
“Get to a life pod, now!” Sandberg ordered. “And head for the hills!”
“What? Why?” Marco asked.
“Ship’s gonna blow,” Sandberg responded. She glanced at Toddy and Helga. Both had stepped away from the microphone and stood about their cell looking like a couple of confused guppies blowing bubbles in an urgent conversation. Helga’s eyes bulged as she flailed her arms, then Toddy began to sob.
“What do we do with them?” Marco asked, pointing at their captives.
Sandberg heard Charger jettison power transfer cables connected to Themis, then felt the ship rise from the docking bay platform as steering thrusters kicked in. “What’s a jailer’s first duty?” she asked.
Marco came to attention and said, “The security and well-being of our detainees, ma’am.”
“I had a feeling you’d say that,” Sandberg replied. “You take one, I’ll take the other, then we’ll board two separate life pods and jettison from the ship.”
“Aye,” Marco said, “but that will reduce each pod’s oxygen supply by half.”
“We’ll do math problems tomorrow, Marco” Sandberg snapped. “Today the lesson is how to survive in the face of nuclear annihilation. Let’s go!”
Marco opened a hatch next to the cell and waved to Toddy and Helga. Both ran toward him, then Marco led them and Sandberg into the detention center’s narrow main hallway and up a set of metal stairs toward a control room. The nearest life pods were in hull buttresses located 20 meters away in the Caprice’s armory.
As the group moved through the passageway toward the armory, Sandberg paused and glanced out a porthole. The vast interior of Themis’s round tower base moved past as Charger labored to escape into open space. She shook her head and felt an icy claw clasp her heart. The chill filled every inch of her body. Sandberg realized this sensation was sheer terror, something she never felt before. Anger, fear, dread, and confusion mixed with remorse and grief. In her mind, all was lost, and only death remained.
Ahead of her, Marco directed Toddy and Helga into the armory and shouted instructions at them. Trampled by the ship-wide alarm and ongoing announcements to abandon ship, Marco’s words sounded muffled to Sandberg. She stepped aside to allow a few other crew members to file past and into the armory. Marco shouted more instructions, then watched Sandberg wave to him, signaling it was time for him to depart. He stepped into the armory, boarded a life pod with his two detainees, and abandoned ship.
Showdown at Jupiter's Edge: A Maxo Magnaveer Adventure Page 6