by J. N. Chaney
“So.” I lifted my cup in thanks. “Any luck today?”
“I wouldn’t go that far, Captain.” Oscar’s tone held a hint of amusement that gave me pause.
“Oh?”
“Don’t get too excited,” he cautioned. “It may be nothing, but I found something earlier when I was reconstructing the previous event. It was encoded to the system log just before the Celestial jumped.” He brought it up on the display.
Streams of data flicked by, but it just looked like a lot of symbols and numbers to me. “Is it a security code?”
Oscar shrugged. “Not sure yet. The only thing I know for sure is that it was entered into the system moments before it activated.”
“Good work. Keep digging until you find something,” I told him. “And let me know if you get any more unwanted coffee.”
He laughed as I walked out. “Sure thing, Captain.”
“Captain Hughes, how are you today?” Chelanah, another one of the Descendants from Lucia’s icy homeworld, said as I passed by where she was working. Besides her piloting skills, the woman had proven herself handy with Eternal engineering, something she had apparently worked with before we showed up. Chelanah wore coveralls, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, leaving her Eternal markings in clear view.
“Alright,” I told her. “Things look like they’re going well here.”
The woman nodded and brushed strands of long white hair out of her face. ‘I’m sticking to the familiar tech. It’s not so different from what I saw back home. I’ve got this one done.”
I glanced over toward the strike ship she indicated. “You’re moving fast. How many so far?”
“A dozen dropships for those of Transient lineage. Half of that for us with tattoos. This is only the second completed fighter, at least for me.” She turned to scan the hangar and pointed. “I believe they have one with standard equipment finished.” The slight smile that played around her lips told me she found this amusing. “You want to take a look?”
“Yeah, let’s see it,” I said.
Chelanah led me inside to reveal a sleek interior. It didn’t come close to the size of the Renegade Star and was meant for agile fighting instead of cargo transport. It did, however, dwarf the Celestial scout ships. The one I’d been in was cramped for stealth. There was really only room for the cockpit and its two chairs. I still saw similarities in the base design and construction though. The same symmetry and efficient use of space I noted all over Tartarus dominated the small craft.
The command center was set up like Titan’s strike ships, with touch screens and the standard holo display. Chelanah settled into the captain’s seat and placed a hand on the controls. The array of panels lit up at her touch and she grinned. “Everything cues up fine, but I can’t say exactly how the weapons work or how they handle because we’ve only watched a simulated holo of them. “I recommend getting them out for trial runs sooner rather than later.”
I considered that. None of these ships being modified would do us any damn good if our people couldn’t fly them. The problem was that we were currently traveling through slipspace. Not exactly conducive to combat training. Added to that, if the Celestials happened to catch us during a drill, we’d be hauling ass to get everyone back inside. “That’s a good idea, but we can’t do anything until we reach Novo. Too risky to stop now.”
She leaned back in the chair and propped her elbow on the armrest. “Maybe there’s another way.”
Interested, I rolled a hand, motioning for her to continue.
“Back home, it was too dangerous to learn outside—Boneclaws,” she explained. “Anyway, Janus taught us how to operate everything in holo training. It’s a practical way to do things. Perhaps Sigmond or Carl are aware of something similar on Tartarus?”
“That could work. I’ll speak with them.”
Satisfied, I left Chelanah to her work and shot a message to Dr. Dressler. Her response came instantly, saying she was in the lab. I headed that way and ran into Abigail and Lex on the way there.
“Following me around, Renegade?” she teased.
“Maybe you’re the one keeping tabs on me.”
“Hi, Mr. Hughes!” said Lex, all signs of her earlier tears long gone.
“Hey, Lex.” I ruffled her hair and quirked a questioning eyebrow at Abigail, who shrugged.
“Shaw had something to take care of. I figured it was best to keep her in sight for now.”
I snorted. “Yeah, that’s probably in everyone’s best interest.”
We continued on, talking along the way. “Did you find out how she got on the Star without us knowing about it?”
“I did. She told Junior that we were playing hide and seek.”
I jerked my head around to stare at them. “Hide and seek. Like the game?”
Animated, Lex bobbed her head up and down. After a moment, she seemed to remember to look sheepish and hid her gaze.
“Yes,” said Abigail. “And that we cleared it but it was against the rules to give her position away.”
“And he accepted that?” I spluttered.
“Technically the Star is programmed to accept Lex as a crew member. It never occurred to me that she might try something like this.”
It hadn’t occurred to me either. And if I was being honest, part of me admired the kid’s spunk. “That AI is getting a major overhaul.”
Abigail held up a hand. “Already took care of it with Sigmond. It won’t happen again.”
“It damn well better not,” I mumbled. As we approached the lab, I glanced down at Lex. “It’s messy in here so watch your step.”
Inside, we found Dressler and Alphonse. They stood close together, heads bowed over a datapad. I ambled over and coughed lightly. Dressler let out a small squeak and jumped. Alphonse, every bit the former Constable, merely looked up, though his face flushed pink.
“Captain Hughes,” he said, tipping his head in greeting. “Abigail. Ah, hello, Lex. I heard we had a stowaway.” He gave her a conspiratorial wink.
The little girl nodded sagely. “I’m not allowed to do it again. But now I get to come with you guys!”
Abigail pointed at a chair and gestured for Lex to take a seat while we talked. The kid obliged, bouncing along as though she’d won a grand prize.
When she was out of earshot and playing on her data pad, I turned back to Al and Dressler. “Looks like you and the doc are putting your heads together. Anything I should know about?”
“We’re working,” Dressler said, rolling her eyes.
“That’s what I was talking about.” My eyes widened innocently.
“Ignore him, MaryAnn,” Abigail advised. “That’s what I do.”
The doctor pointed at the datapad. “We have found a way to repair Athena.”
I straightened automatically at the news. “You can fix her?”
“Yes, potentially. I wasn’t going to bring it up yet, but I suppose you’re already here.” She shot Alphonase a look of rebuke, but it lacked any punch. He just flashed her a smile a lifted his shoulders.
“Well, don’t keep me in suspense, Doc,” I told her. “What is it?”
She glanced at Alphonse once more, then slid her gaze back to me and Abigail. “Do you recall when we almost lost Sigmond to Hephaestus?”
I nodded. ”Hard to forget.”
“It would be possible to do something similar if we had another Cognitive Shell,” Dressler explained.
“Shell…” I considered the term, trying to think back to what Athena had done to Sigmond during his upgrade process. “Remind me again what that is, exactly.”
“A Cognitive Shell is, for lack of a better word, the bones of a Cognitive,” supplied Alphonse. “It’s everything without the personality matrix.”
I slowly nodded. “Right.” It was all coming back to me now. Janus had been lost in the transfer, but his shell had survived. It included all of his processes, or the ones and zeroes that made him a Cognitive, minus the bits of data that made him Janus. The bod
y without the soul. “Where are we supposed to get one of those?”
“Can’t we just make one ourselves?” asked Abigail.
“It might be possible, but considering that none of us know the first thing about constructing one, it could take quite some time to build,” said Dressler. “Cognitives are so complex that I’ve only barely managed to scratch the surface when it comes to understanding them.”
“How much more complicated can they be than a regular AI?” I asked.
Dressler blinked at me. “Are you serious?” she asked. “Comparing a Cognitive to an artificial intelligence is akin to staring at a photograph of a beach and pretending you’re there. One is the illusion, while the other is the real thing.”
“Even if we can’t build the shell ourselves, that doesn’t mean we can’t salvage the code from another Capsule somewhere,” said Alphonse.
“Sigmond checked Titan’s records,” Dressler added. “There are a few references to the other seed ships. We might be able to find something on one of those if we can track down where they went.”
“I thought their locations were lost,” I said.
“Records show their intended flight paths when they left Earth, but their fates remain unknown,” said Dressler.
“Great,” I said. “So they could all be destroyed and we’d never know.”
“Considering that none of them have ever returned or been seen by anyone on this side of the galaxy, I don’t suppose it’s very likely they’ve survived,” commented Alphonse, tapping his chin. “Though, we could follow the trail and see for ourselves, should we choose.”
“Doesn’t sound like much of a fix if you ask me,” I muttered. “More like a hope and a prayer.”
“We’re still looking,” Alphonse assured me. “If there’s a way, we’ll find it.”
“Actually, I might be able to help with that,” said a voice. Carl’s construct manifested beside Alphonse, his bald head reflecting light as if he were a real person.
“Oh, really?” I asked, leaning slightly on one of the crowded tables. “How so?”
“Captain Hughes, do you recall our discussion regarding Novo’s purpose?” asked Carl.
I nodded. “Sure. Research into the gene degradation that the Eternals needed to fix.”
That got Dr. Dressler’s attention. She glanced from me to Carl, then back to me with an accusatory glint in her eyes. “Another research station? You didn’t mention that.”
“Actually, I did. You told me—what was it—oh, yeah. To go away, because I was interrupting your work. I’m sure Carl could bring up the feed if you don’t remember.”
“That won’t be necessary,” she said, ignoring my sarcasm. “However, if Novo is anything like Glacio, we may find something useful to assist us.”
“Hold on,” Abigail said. “What is Glacio?”
I was about to ask the very same thing.
“That’s just what I’ve been calling Lucia’s home world. Ice planet was getting a little tiresome,” she explained. “My original name was to be V-230991X, but Mr. Malloy suggested we go with something”—she looked at Alphonse—“simpler.”
“I thought Glacio fit rather well,” said Alphonse.
“Bet you did,” I murmured. “So, what’s with the comparison? You think we’ll find the same set-up on Novo that we saw on…” I paused. “Glacio?”
“It had Janus,” Dressler explained. “He was in charge of the research facility and tasked with helping the scientists in their search for a cure to the disease. As I was saying a few minutes ago, because of his shell, we now have Sigmond.”
“And you think Novo must have a Janus,” I said.
She raised a finger. “No, not at all,” said Dressler. “We’ve encountered former Eternal colonies without any Cognitives, so there’s little reason to believe this one has another of its own. However, even if we are unable to locate a Capsule, we may yet discover additional information that could assist us in repairing Athena’s. At the very least, it is worth investigating.”
“Does Titan have a record of there being a Cognitive on that planet?” I asked.
Carl answered this time. “Such information would not have been in Titan’s records because Novo was colonized after its departure from Earth. As you are undoubtedly aware, once the colony ships escaped Earth’s territory, all communication was severed.”
“We’ll have to be careful,” Abigail interjected. When everyone turned to stare at her, she continued. “To get this shell, a team will have to go to the facility and retrieve it. If the Celestials are still following and manage to find us...”
“Right,” I said. “Lingering too long won’t be the best of ideas.”
“On top of that,” continued Alphonse. “We might very well be attacked upon our arrival. The colony could still have its defenses online, depending on that state of its Tritium core and general well-being.”
“Astute observation, Mr. Malloy. This is indeed a possibility,” Carl said.
“What can be done about that?” I wondered.
Almost every Eternal location we’d come across had some kind of issue. Glacio was half destroyed, Hephaestus had been crazy and out of control, and Gaia had degraded to the point where half her memories were gone. If all of Novo’s systems were in perfect working order, I would be very surprised.
I didn’t relish the thought of fighting my way through a science facility with the Celestials out there looking for us. The way I saw it, an altercation with anyone who wasn’t the enemy would be a waste of time and resources. Suddenly, this trip didn’t seem like the best idea.
“Maybe we should think about hiding out somewhere else,” Abigail said, apparently on the same wavelength.
Carl didn’t exactly hesitate, but something in his demeanor changed, setting off internal alarm bells in my head. He offered a wane smile. “There is one small problem.”
There it was. “What are you talking about, Carl?” I asked.
The Celestial Cognitive didn’t look concerned. “A slight miscalculation, I assure you. Tartarus is burning through its available fuel by taking the current route. Since we are creating a new section of slipspace, the draw is quite substantial. By the time we reach Novo, we will have to stop to recharge. It will require some time. The alternative is to acquire Novo’s core and use it to—”
“Godsdammit,” I snapped. “You’re telling me we’re already running out of fuel? Are we going to have to deal with this bullshit every time we get a new ship?”
“My apologies, Captain. I will work with Sigmond and attempt to find a way around this,” said Carl. “Still, it may behoove us to obtain the core regardless.”
I waved a hand at him and he blinked out of sight.
“Hold on a second,” said Abigail, looking around the room. “Where did Lex go?”
I didn’t see the kid anywhere, now that I thought about it. The lab was a fairly sizable room, but still, it wasn’t so big that you could get lost in it.
“I’m right here,” said a small voice to my right.
When I looked, I saw nothing. Just a few piles of parts and a table filled with equipment. “Lex, stop playing games,” I said. “Come out here.”
“I-I’m not playing. Can’t you see me, Mr. Hughes?” she asked.
Dressler shuffled over to the table. “Wait just a moment,” she said, quickly searching through the assorted parts. “Has anyone seen my phasing cuff?”
7
Alphonse spun in a slow circle, scanning the messy lab. “I don’t see her,” he said, voice somehow steady and calm despite the tense situation. But, then again, that was the former Constable’s default setting.
I was kicking myself. I’d noticed the cuff out on the table my last time in the lab and had forgotten to tell Dressler about it.
“I’m sorry!” Lex whimpered. “It just looked like a bracelet.”
“Just stay calm. MaryAnn, what do we do?” Abigail said, keeping her tone even.
The doctor took command of
the situation with ease. “Lex.” She said it gently, holding her hands palm out in a soothing gesture. “The first thing I need you to do is make sure you aren’t touching anything but the floor.”
It wasn’t an idle caution. If Lex materialized in the middle of the table, or gods forbid touching another person, it wouldn’t end well. I had to shove aside visions of her standing half inside one of the equipment laden tables.
“Okay, Dr. Dressler,” the girl said in a small voice. “I’m not around anything.”
“Great job, Lex. Now, the cuff is just like all the other tech. I need you to turn it off.”
A disturbance in the air in front of me caught my eye. It started out like a shimmer, then Lex’s small hand appeared. Just like I’d seen when Abigail and I worked with the cuff, the rest of her body followed in quick succession. Abigail’s tense shoulders relaxed when the girl was solid once more.
“Don’t move or turn it on, Lex. I’m going to remove it.” Dressler approached with care and unclasped the cuff.
Abigail moved forward and looked Lex over. I thought the girl might be scared after the ordeal, but she recovered quickly. “What was that?” she asked, as though she hadn’t just been invisible.
“It’s Celestial technology,” Dressler explained. “It allows the wearer to become invisible and incorporeal by displacing—”
“Hold on,” I interrupted. “That was a lot longer than five seconds. Shouldn’t it have turned off on its own?”
“I’ve been making adjustments. There isn’t a programmed cut off time at the moment. Still...” Dressler glanced back at Lex.
“Still, what?” Alphonse said. He hadn’t been part of our previous training sessions. Against the good doctor’s advice, I’d used the cuff one time too many and ended up unconscious for three days. My body couldn’t handle the taxing job of phasing over and over again and had given in to complete exhaustion.
“The cuff still takes a tremendous amount of energy to operate.” Dressler picked up her pad and gave it a few rapid taps before looking up again. “It was activated for 32 continuous seconds, yet Lex doesn’t even look tired.”