Awakening Threat

by Patrick G Cox

  Palmer’s obsequious tone was almost more than Harry could bear, but he maintained composure and decided to give the man enough space to trap himself in his own words. “Ah, so you have not seen the cities in those reports at first hand? Or the vast manufactories the Canids operate below the surface?”

  “The cities?” Palmer huffed in veiled derision. “Clearly not the work of the Canids, according to the archaeologists.” He felt he was on safer ground here. “If you’ve read the reports, you’ll know they concluded the cities were the remains of a vanished civilisation.”

  “Yes, so they did. I believe they also concluded the Canids might be the devolved remainder of a once more advanced race.” Harry took a long pull at his drink. “I noted they didn’t learn the real secret of those amazing structures.” He turned a friendly smile on the doctor. “Ever wondered about Regidur’s translation device? You might find it interesting to do so. It actually links him to the Provider, as they call the AI on Lycania, an amazing creature with which they live in a symbiotic relationship.” He set down his empty glass with a solid thud. “I’m sure Regidur would be delighted to arrange for you to visit their huge subterranean cities and manufactories. We were quite amazed to learn of them ourselves.”

  “They have factories?”

  “Oh yes, and a great deal more. I can commend to you visits to both Lycania and Sci’antha’s home world. I can assure you it will be most enlightening.” He stood up, his smile warm. “Now, I must beg to be excused. I have some work to prepare for my new role. In case we don’t get a chance to meet again, please accept my thanks for the insights your papers have given me. It has been absolutely fascinating reading.”

  As Harry walked away, it was obvious several people had been listening to the exchange, and many were struggling to conceal their amusement. Regidur materialised at his side at the door. “You have challenged him to a trial of strength?”

  Harry laughed. “No, my friend, I have thanked him for giving me the opportunity to read what he has written about your people and Sci’antha’s—and what his friends have written about me. I have called into question his credibility, or rather, I’ve allowed him to destroy it himself. He will find it difficult to restore.”

  Chapter 25

  Command

  By the time Beagle reached the building dock above the planet designated as Copernicus 4—a barren airless world rich in ore and minerals—Harry’s confrontation with Dr. Palmer had become the stuff of conversation, not only within the Fleet but outside of it as well, including the news media and other researchers. When asked about it, Harry always declined to comment, saying he’d discussed the papers with the doctor, and as far as he was concerned, the matter was closed. Secretly he was rather pleased with the storm of discussion that questioned the validity of Dr. Palmer’s supposed research into the Canid and Lacertian societies, as well as a few others on distant planets.

  “Gents…ladies…take a seat please.” The construction Captain waited until the assembled officers had settled. “Right, your tablets will upload and share the data I’m about to give you, so please make sure they’re in acceptance mode.” He paused. “Your ships are all scout corvettes, Mark XII, batch three. They’ve got the latest tech in scanning, and their control rooms are a miniature version of what you’d have on a starship. They’re capable of snap transit, which means they’re very agile. We’ve packed them with everything we can get into such a small hull, and as a result, your TechRates are going to be a bit cramped, as are you.”

  An engineering Lieutenant near the back raised a hand.

  “Yes, Lieutenant Marcus?”

  “Will we have backup systems and redundancies?”

  “Yes, but they are marginal. Some of your maintenance can only be done from an external access, but for this reason, you’ll always operate from a mother ship that has the facilities to draw you in and carry out any external repair and maintenance as needed.” He paused. “One thing that is completely new is the stealth system. It’s based on how the Canids’ camouflage cloak works, rather like the way the chameleons on Earth disguise themselves. We think it will give you a major advantage.”

  There was a murmur of surprise and comment.

  “I can assure you, though, you won’t just have to hide to protect yourself if attacked. You’re packing the biggest damned punch I’ve ever seen in such a small space. Properly handled you should be able to give a cruiser a headache.”

  “Sounds as if we’re rather expendable.” The comment came from someone seated near Harry.

  “No, you’re not, so put that idea out of your minds,” the Captain snapped. “These ships will provide support for larger units and to scout ahead of the fleet. The stealth capability allows you stalk an enemy and get in close. Your firepower allows you to hit hard, and your speed allows you to run like hell as soon as your hit has found its target.” He glowered around the room. “The ships in the Thirty-Sixth Flotilla have been given some extra gear. You’ll have the capability to launch penetrative missiles carrying projection warheads. These are still under test and development though, so you’ll be commissioned without them for now.” He paused. “Now then, flotilla Commanders, your briefing rooms are adjacent. Each one has the flotilla number and badge on the door. These are your briefing spaces from now until you’re worked up and ready to deploy. I suggest you take your teams to them and get to know one another properly. Familiarisation with your ships is scheduled for eleven hundred SST. Please ensure you follow the staff sent to collect you. They’ll take you to the ships.”

  The Captain departed with his staff, and the flotilla Commanders were on their feet.

  “Okay, Thirty-Sixth, let’s find our den before the rest of them try to steal it.” Commander Polen led the way to the exit.

  The group followed their guide down several decks and into a vast building hall. Six neat ships lay in building cradles with workmen swarming over and around them. While the hulls had a sleek and rather thoroughbred appearance, the weapons were all carried forward and some externally on the long fins extending on either side above and below the hull.

  “Right, folks,” the dock supervisor called out, gaining the group’s attention. “These are your babies—841 is that end, and 847 is here. The internal fit is complete, though we’re still making some minor adjustments. The chief fitter and the AI trainers are on board and will take you through the layouts and the command controls.” Noting their looks of admiration, the dock supervisor smiled and added, “They’re beauties, aren’t they? My lads reckon they’re the best ships we’ve worked on. Take care of them.”

  “Thanks, Mr. Bayern, we plan to,” said the Commander. To his crew, he added, “You all know which you’re assigned to. Sci’antha, you’re joining Kallie in 846. Regidur is with Harry in 847. We’ll be operating in pairs, and it makes sense for six and seven to operate together. Right, get to know your ships. I’ll drop in on each of you in turn.”

  “Mr. Heron?” The speaker held out a hand as Harry stepped from the lift onto the wide platform. “Pleased to meet you at last, sir. Lieutenant Hans Fürst. I’m the AI trainer. This is Alex Fergusson, chief fitter for this ship.”

  “Thanks, I’m looking forward to getting to know this ship. She’s certainly a change from everything I’ve served on so far.” He shook hands with the Lieutenant and with the heavily built chief fitter. I must say, she looks very trim and ship-shape.” He turned and said, “Let me introduce my officers: Pack Leader Regidur, of the Canid peoples, and Lieutenant Pahlavi, my engineering specialist.”

  Alex grinned at Regidur. “Ah, so you’re the gent we had to fit the special sleeping berth for, sir.” Harry smiled at the burly man’s surprised reaction when Regidur barked his reply. “Must say,” the fitter added jovially, recovering his wits, “it makes sense now I’ve met you. It looks very comfortable. Perhaps we should upgrade everyone else’s berths—might save a bit of space.”

  “Don’t say that too loudly!” Hans Fürst interjected. “Som
eone might think of more kit they can add.” The party laughed as he led the way across the narrow bridge to the casing of the new ship.

  Up close, she looked even more impressive, the graceful fore end tapering into neat curves to enclose her forward plasma projectors in their turret mounting. Aft, the hull bulged slightly behind the fins then tapered toward the drive pods, supported on yet another set of heavy fins. Entering the open airlock, the group found itself in a small open space.

  “This is the Key Flat,” said Alex. “Forward is the crew mess and berths, plus a lot of weaponry. Aft is the command centre and the wardroom, with the engineering control immediately aft of that.” He looked over the heads of the others to where Harry stood framed in the open airlock’s inner hatch. “Your accommodation is on the starboard side, sir, opposite the wardroom. Access is from the gangway between the command centre and the engineering control room. We’re now on Deck Zero. The galley and the TechRates’ accommodation is below us on Deck One, with the warrants and the mess canteen on this deck. Likewise, the officers’ sleeping cabins are below the wardroom and your quarters, sir.”

  Harry acknowledged this explanation with a polite nod. “We’ve seen the drawings, of course, but now it’s all starting to make sense. Is there an eco-space?”

  “Not as such. There is a filtration plant, which uses a specially cultivated moss to filter the air and replenish the oxygen. I’m afraid that’s one of the things that takes up a bit of space.”

  “As long as it keeps the air clean,” Reza Pahlavi joked. “I was on a ship that lost its eco-space in the last war. It wasn’t very pleasant.”

  Harry laughed. “You should have smelled us after we tried to replace our atmosphere on the Leander with air from New Eden. I can still taste it.”

  “I heard about that.” The AI expert grinned. “One of my friends was serving on the DGK—said it took months to clear the stench, even after everything recovered from the Leander and the planet had been taken out.”

  “I shall admit only that it was far, far worse than the stench of the cesspits in London in the summer of 1801—of that I can be very sure. It even beat the stench of the cockpit on the Billy Ruffian and the Spartan.”

  He chuckled at their puzzled expressions, and heard one of them murmur, “Did he say 1801?”

  The tour of the ship was comprehensive, with nothing left out. There seemed to be no space in the ship not crammed with some equipment, though the crew spaces were comfortable. These were nicely finished and appointed, a few small luxuries having been included to make up for the lack of space.

  “At least you’re all spared the hot bunking some of the early classes had,” the chief fitter commented as they settled round the wardroom table to go over their departmental questions.

  Harry relaxed a little, allowing his companions to ask their questions and listening to the answers. He was aware of a presence in his head, something probing his cyberlink, so he focussed his thoughts on it. “Good afternoon, 847. Don’t be so shy. Beagle and my other ships have found me reasonably friendly.”

  For a moment, there was no response, then a feminine voice asked, “Are you my new Captain—the man Beagle tells me understands us, and talks to other ships?”

  “I am the new Commander, yes. My name is Harry. Are you content with your name, 847? Sometimes these officials have no imagination.”

  “Welcome aboard, Harry. I am the next generation of artificial intelligence. My name is as it is, unless you wish to give me another. Do you mind my being able to access your thoughts like this?”

  Harry hesitated. “Actually, as I have told Beagle and others, I do like a little privacy. Sometimes it’s best if my thoughts are not recorded. Perhaps we can agree on a way to work together. Has Beagle told you my tastes in music?”

  “Yes, and a great deal more. I hope I may serve you as well as he has done.”

  Harry frowned at this. He was uncomfortable with this concept of the ships as servants, though he knew the intelligence was merely the result of programming. “I hope we may enjoy as close a friendship as I enjoyed with Beagle. I may at times have to ask you to do things that are dangerous—possibly even deadly for us all. Are you aware of this?”

  There was a pause. “Yes. It is my purpose, Harry. I must do as I am commanded while obeying the Three Laws of Robotics. I may not break those.”

  “Then I am sure we will get along beautifully.” Harry became aware of someone asking a question, and noticed that the others were all looking at him as if awaiting a response.

  He smiled and said, “My apologies, gentlemen, I was just getting to know our AI. She seems remarkably aware and well developed.”

  Lieutenant Fürst looked surprised, but he recovered his composure. “Thank you, sir. She’s been a dream to develop.” He hesitated. “How are you able to communicate with her?”

  Harry smiled. “I have a malfunctioning cyberlink—at least that’s what the experts call it—and 847 was busy trying to explore my head while we familiarised ourselves with her layout.”

  “Oh, sorry about that,” Fürst said, rather flustered. “Shall I have her block that function?”

  “No, I am used to it,” said Harry. “We will get along just fine. You had a question?”

  “Oh, yes.” The Lieutenant smiled. “I was asking if you prefer to give spoken commands to the ship. She has the facility to receive such commands and to respond to you audibly if you prefer.”

  Harry had to think about this. “Yes, if I instruct her accordingly. That would be very useful in some circumstances.” He made a note to ensure the ship didn’t broadcast his thoughts, questions, and doubts by accident.

  “Great.” The AI trainer was enthusiastic. “I’ll get straight onto it.” He paused. “It’s been a real pleasure developing and training her. She’s a honey of a ship. I just know she’s going to be an absolute champ.”

  Harry’s letter to Mary was full of his enthusiasm for his new command. As ever, it was accompanied by several small sketches of 847 and a little watercolour painting of the scenery on Galapagos Galapagos, endorsed with the comment that he hoped one day to return to it. He sealed the package and despatched it to the cargo office.

  Leaning back in his chair, he drew out Mary’s last letter and reread it, the music of Saint-Saens piano concertos in his ears. Tomorrow they would begin the working up of these ships, right after the commissioning ceremony and a brief pep talk by the constructor Admiral. It was going to be a very busy six weeks.

  At least he could be easy about Mary. She was at home in Dublin, her concert tour a success and at an end. Putting aside the letter, he prepared to turn in. He was tired, the effects of the Niburu toxin still not completely overcome, but he knew he would have no permanent after-effects, and now he just had to concentrate on his new task. He was looking forward to departing the dock. Three weeks of it had been enough, and now he had his people settled and ready, with several old shipmates among them.

  Yes, it was going to be a good commission.

  Chapter 26

  Flotilla in Action

  “Harry, you’re here at last.” Ferghal’s smile seemed to light up the lounge.

  “It’s a good feeling, I can tell you.” Harry returned the smile. “My new quarters on 847 are comfortable, but not luxurious.” He regarded his friend. “You look well. This posting evidently suits you.”

  “Aye, I’ll confess I’ve grown used to the comforts. But your fellow Commanders keep me and my people busy enough with their improvements and defects.”

  “Just see my little lady always gets the best you can give her, my friend.” Harry grinned. “She’s a real beauty, Ferghal. You’ll love her.”

  “What? You’ve found a new love? I’d better alert Mary—someone has to be the bearer of bad news!”

  Harry laughed. “Rogue. Nothing could replace Mary.” He paused. “Though I’ll thank you not to tell 847 that. She might be jealous.” Harry grinned smugly and counted down in his head for Ferghal’s respo
nse: three, two, one….

  “Your ship’s AI’s a she? You lucky dog! How’d you manage that?”

  Harry just shrugged with confidence and said, “The benefits follow the reputation, I suppose.”

  “Ah, well, some lads have all the luck….” Ferghal sighed dramatically and ran his hand through his hair, which seemed unrulier than usual. “So how was the transit? A good opportunity to get to know everyone, I suppose.”

  “It was routine. We encountered no enemy, we kept in company and on station, and it took three weeks.” Harry grinned. “Though I confess that it was rather uncomfortable for the first two, but once we’d eaten our way through the extra stores, it became much more pleasant.” He didn’t mention that his tiny sleeping quarters had been packed with engineering spares so that he had to climb over them to reach his berth, or that a double layer of cases and cartons had overlaid the deck everywhere except the command centre.

  Ferghal nodded, signalling a steward. “Ah well, at least you can enjoy the larger quarters you have at your disposal aboard the Prinz. Have you heard? We are to join our guardian at Lycania.”

  “I have heard that. The Commander has called a briefing of the Thirty-Sixth and Thirty-Seventh tomorrow at o-nine-hundred.” Harry accepted the glass offered by the steward. “I think we can expect plenty of action. The Niburu are moving again.”

  Ferghal took a long swig of his drink and emptied the glass. “Yes, another of the outer colonies. We are to be deployed as soon as we arrive at the rendezvous.”

  “Stand by.” Harry listened to the AI as it disengaged the connections and tethers to the mother ship in preparation for propulsion. “Disengage docking locks.” He paused as the order was confirmed. The sun caught the outer surface of his ship, and he marvelled at the strange new surface coating. This had just been applied and was supposed to poison the organism the Niburu attached to a ship to capture it.