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Odin's Eye

Page 7

by Kal Spriggs


  Unlike the gentleman behind me, she thought as she caught his reflection in the glass. Kaptain Sebastian Lokisen, had come up through the ranks of the little people. He had even, she allowed herself to disdainfully, served in the military, before signing on with Odin Interstellar and working his way up from a security manager to finally ending up here, back at his homeworld as her new chief of security.

  Normally she wouldn't have deigned to even speak to him. However, he was very good at his job... and she made a point to screen security personnel personally after the last incident. Thank goodness for Doctor Farber's excellent programming, else they might have succeeded, she thought. Only the Odin's Eye project had managed to detect the attempted infiltration.

  The potential consequences of that kind of disaster left her feeling ill. For an actual security breach here at headquarters, she would be removed, at the least. If it became public knowledge that someone had accessed Odin Interstellar's core network... the result would have been disastrous, the company's value would plummet and every major corporation and government agency that used them would have taken their business and money elsewhere.

  Given that Odin Interstellar also worked for Guard Fleet as a backup courier service, they would have lost everything, just in the penalty fees stipulated in their contracts.

  I should have tortured those mercenaries far longer, she thought absently. She spun, “Well, Kaptain, I understand that you have completed your initial survey of our operations?”

  She didn't bother to ask him if he had surveyed the entire facility. Odin Interstellar's Corporate Headquarters was massive and there were places where the Kaptain, despite his impeccable credentials, would not be allowed to go. Like anywhere near the core network, she thought. Just because he was in charge of security didn't mean he could bypass it.

  The tall blond man gave a crisp nod, “Yes, Fraulein.” She waved a hand at his traditional address. She despised the so-called 'mother-tongue' that most of the peasants used. She didn't even really like using English, save that it was the trade tongue. French, she felt, was far more eloquent.

  “I have some recommendations to tighten exterior security,” he said. “It will require some minor hardships on senior level corporate members, since that is how the mercenaries gained access to the outer level of security.”

  She pinched her lips at that, not so much the additional security, but the reminder of the mercenaries who had nearly cost her everything... and the failure of a security chief who had almost let them.

  He died far too easily, she thought. She'd had no choice but to fire him and then when he threatened to tell the CEO his side of the story, she had no choice but to have him killed quickly, rather than the planned torture session. She still treasured her copy of the train's security footage that showed the expression on his face as Deiter threw him in front of the train on his way to that meeting.

  “Fine, fine,” she waved a manicured hand at the Kaptain. “Take care of it. Anything else?”

  He hesitated, “Fraulein, I wondered if we might use Odin's Eye more proactively?”

  She scowled, “Not at this time.”

  The CEO was in discussion with Guard Intelligence about a lend-lease deal with server time on their core network. Part of their stipulations was that they limit their use of Odin's Eye for defensive operations. She personally wanted to make use of it to blackmail some of her rivals, but she would have to wait on that.

  I would so love to get that bitch Cassandora under the knife, she thought, and I'm certain if I could find enough dirt on her father that it could be arranged. Since Vulcan Mining Concern was already suspected of employing privateers and mercenaries to crack down on their competition, she thought it wouldn't take long to obtain such blackmail on their Chief Executive Officer.

  Given the fact that his worthless daughter didn't do accomplish anything for his family other than to inject drugs and get caught sleeping with entertainment stars, it wasn't too much to hope that Lindsey would have her chance at the woman.

  “Very well,” Kaptain Sebastian Lokisen said. He gave her a last nod and turned around to depart. It was a shame, she felt, that they hadn't found any females of appropriate experience and background for the position, she thought, as she watched him leave. She could appreciate his handsomeness and even his musculature, but she much preferred the curves of a woman to enjoy.

  Back to business, she thought, even as she pulled up the latest prospectus on expansion. It was a good thing that she loved her job so much, else the stress would quite overwhelm her.

  ***

  Doctor Axel Farber studied the displayed code on his neural computer's projected display and he allowed his vocal unit to give what might pass for a chortle. “Ah, excellent work, excellent work!” he chortled to himself. Indeed, everything with the project had gone perfectly thus far.

  To be certain, he could admit that others might not feel that way. Certainly the poor mercenaries who had been caught attempting to infiltrate Odin Interstellar would disagree. And in truth, Doctor Farber might have felt some small bit of pity for them but for the fact that they had come to destroy his life's work. That, in itself, meant they deserved what they received.

  Yet their misfortune was his good fortune. The proof that his software had functioned as desired had opened a flow of money and resources to his lab... and Doctor Farber well appreciated both.

  Not that they were the ends he sought. Indeed, he cared little about money beyond the benefits it brought towards his work. He was a transhumanist of the most absolute sort. He brought up a system diagnostic on his neural computer and evaluated the latest update to the code. As the initial results came back, he repeated his chuckle. It seemed he had solved some of the data analysis issues.

  He scowled then, as he considered how much resistance he had found, even from his supposed brethren. The Union of Technology, his fellow transhumanists, should have supported his efforts. This level of data analysis would empower humans to bypass other forms of communication, to see the true intent behind actions and to think strategically in ways that no one had ever conceived of before.

  He had tried the project once before, under the auspicious title of Oracle, yet his brethren in the Union of Technology had run him out when he revealed how it let him ferret out even their secrets. His one attempt to display the data had ended in failure, he'd even had to flee his homeworld due to threats against his life.

  Jealous, he thought, that's what they are, they don't see anything past their own jealousy.

  He had found only eager excitement when he pitched his idea to Odin Interstellar, especially after he played flattery to their name with a reference to their notional deity here on Danzig. As if there is any God beyond what I can become, he thought, with all this knowledge at my fingertips.

  “Ferrer,” he snapped. A moment later his assistant arrived. The local woman didn't bother to hide her revulsion as she looked away from his heavily modified face. She had made it clear from the beginning that she disapproved of his cybernetic upgrades... but he didn't care about that. Emotion and prejudice were things he could ignore. He was, after all, better than her. Why should he care what she thought? He was the future. “I want them to emulate the scripts I've inserted into the index algorithm, copy it all across the system.”

  “Yes, Herr Doctor,” Ferrer said. Despite her discomfort with his augmentations, she still did her job. She was just marginally talented enough to manage the small host of programmers that Odin Interstellar had provided him. Together, their output had pushed Odin's Eye closer to perfection... and soon, he knew, it would be able to move beyond just their networks.

  Guard Intelligence... he thought, they will give me the access and resources that I need, with their assistance, I will finally approach godhood. He still couldn't parse the code down to a manageable level for a neural computer, not even the extremely robust one in his skull. But with their help, he knew it would be possible.

  I will be a god, he thought, an
d then I will show my “brothers” what it is to rise above mortal form. He chuckled again as he considered that... and he didn't notice how his assistant shivered at the sound.

  Time: 0700 Zulu, 04 September 291 G.D.

  Location: Outer System, Ashe System

  “How do you think Brian and Marcus are doing?” Mel asked as she helped Bob to shift a crate. The cramped space was where Fenris had stored munitions, but since those cost money they didn't have, they used it for storing equipment for the mission. Granted, she thought, two hundred and fifty million buys a lot of upgrades, missiles, and bombs.

  Bob wiped at sweat on his forehead, “I imagine they're happy they don't have to move crates.”

  Mel gave him a level look and he shrugged, “How am I supposed to know? The one is a genetically designed super-soldier born before my ancestors left Earth and the other is a former Guard Intelligence super-spy. You ask me, we are the ones you need to worry about.”

  Mel rolled her eyes at him as she lifted one of the lighter crates. She grunted as she slammed it down atop the one they had moved together. “Right. This is the easy part. We're just meeting with some potential recruits and then getting some more equipment for the mission. Unless there's something you aren't telling me?”

  Bob shrugged, “Well, I don't really trust these guys we plan to add to our team. I know, Marcus vouched for them, but...”

  “Yeah, I know,” Mel said, “you don't trust Marcus. Marcus doesn't trust you. Brian doesn't trust you, either. You're a spy, Bob, no-one trusts you and you don't trust anyone.” She hadn't yet passed along the information that even Marcus had cautioned her against trusting them.

  “I trust you,” Bob said. He waited as she lifted another crate and slammed it down. “I shouldn't, but I do. For that matter, I care about what happens to you.”

  Mel straightened up, “If this is some kind of way to come onto me...”

  Bob held up his hands, “Oh, no, don't get me wrong, but I'm not barking up that tree.” He chuckled at her expression. “Look, Mel, I think we can all admit to having our secrets, but you and I both know that Marcus is bad news.”

  “What do you mean by that?” Mel demanded.

  “I mean he has a fundamentally flawed character,” Bob said gently. “He's got a loyalty complex, where he gives everything he has to a single cause... or a single person. That was to Guard Intelligence, then it shifted to you. I gather he wobbled around for a bit, growing more and more self-destructive after your brother chased him off, but he's swung back to you. He would do anything for you, Mel... and that's damned dangerous in a person.”

  Mel looked away. She wanted to argue, but she really couldn't. That had bothered her for the past weeks of their travel and Marcus's words continued to haunt her.

  “Anyway, just keep that in mind when you deal with him,” Bob said. “And keep it in mind when we deal with him. He's off his kilter and Brian and I both picked up on that.”

  “Fine,” Mel said. She ran a hand through her blonde hair. She really needed a shower. “You think this is enough space?”

  “I calculate that you have created adequate space to load and unload the equipment we'll require,” Fenris said. “Thank you for your help. The crates were too large for my repair bots to manipulate easily; you did it far faster than they could.”

  “No problem,” Mel said. “Are we in position yet?”

  “We are,” Fenris said. “I've sent out the message to the system network, we should get a reply soon.”

  Mel nodded at that. Marcus had said that he would contact his former friends on his way and tell them to meet here. All three, he'd said, were paranoid to an extreme so they'd only respond to encrypted messages. He had warned them that they would likely be armed and more than a bit twitchy.

  Given the fact that he had insinuated that all three were on the run from Guard Intelligence, she could understand that. She hadn't missed how he cautioned against mentioning their cash reserve or the accounts they had stolen from Guard Free Now, either.

  “Okay,” Mel said. “I'm going to get a shower.” She cocked her head at Bob, “We're here to pick up the equipment from your contact as well... so when can we do that?”

  Bob shrugged, “I'll give Marciano a call, see where he's at, and let him know we're here to pick it all up. I'm sure he'll have it ready.”

  Bob didn't sound all that certain, but Mel wasn't going to push him... not just yet. She felt more than a little uneasy about using another of his contacts after how poorly things had gone with the money launderer, but it wasn't as if she had much of a choice. They had already committed themselves and trying to acquire what they needed on such short notice would be both dangerous and expensive.

  On her way back to her quarters, she shivered at how empty Fenris felt. The cold, dark passageways were stark and quiet.

  “Fenris,” she said.

  “Yes?” His deep growl comforted her. It was amazing how much his voice reassured her.

  “How are you feeling now that you've had a chance to use some of your upgrades?” Mel asked. It was a topic she had discussed with him already, but she mostly wanted to hear the ship's voice. She didn't know why, but the corridors seemed somehow ominous.

  “The new drive field emitters are great,” Fenris said, “I'm not sure I like the new weapons systems, they feel a little too heavy, but I'll take some time to get used to them. I'd like a stop-over to break them in. The Mark Twenty Fives are better in general, with extremely capable systems. From the system specifications I should be able to disable the drive for up to dreadnought class vessels. All the same, they are relatively new and untested. Most ships that carry them have not seen real combat, so I have no combat parameters from which to calculate their effectiveness. But I like them.”

  “Okay,” Mel said. “We should be able to find a quiet spot for you to paste a few asteroids, would that do?” She shivered a bit as she passed the corridor that led to where she had killed Giles. Was it just her or had the lights down that corridor flickered, just slightly, as she passed?

  “That will do, though I'd prefer a live target, as an asteroid lacks a warp drive to mimic a proper target,” Fenris said. “It seems odd to say it, but I feel as if my purpose is war... and I quite like the idea of fulfilling that purpose. I don't want to take lives, but all the same I like the challenge of it. Does that make sense?” His tone was musing and Mel could tell that the Artificial Intelligence had spent some time thinking about the topic.

  “It does,” Mel said and she stood a bit straighter herself. She couldn't think of a time when she’d felt as alive as she had when they pulled out a victory at Vagyr, not since the Harlequin Station Military Academy, anyway. She too had enjoyed the challenge, the excitement... even if it meant that she had nearly died. Even, she realized, that it meant that her brother had betrayed her.

  I will get him away from those bastards, she thought, he's got to see that they're psychotic. She didn't know how, though. Her brother was too set in his path, she didn't know how she could convince him. For that matter, she knew he was stubborn enough to refuse to reconsider unless she could somehow rub his nose into the fact that he was wrong.

  Guard Intelligence and Guard Free Now were two sides of the same coin. They both sought to manipulate people through terror and fear, to the point that it didn't matter who was right or wrong. She had to make him understand that... even if it meant she had to put herself in the crosshairs of Guard Free Now once more. Even, she thought, if it meant she had to face Colonel Frost once again.

  She shivered as she remembered his cold blue eyes and his implacable face. He would have killed her as casually as she might swat a fly... and he probably would feel nothing more after the fact.

  It won't come to that, she thought, I'll find some way to convince him... he's my brother.

  ***

  A few hours later, their three guests sat in the lounge, patiently waiting after Fenris' new shuttle had picked them up and brought them aboard.
/>   Mel had watched them from Fenris' bridge, even as she considered how to talk to them. Marcus had said he would talk to them, but she didn't know how much time he'd had with them, so she wanted to make things clear from the start. She had read the short set of notes that Marcus had left on each of them, multiple times.

  As she stepped into the lounge, she felt their gazes center on her. Behind her, she heard Bob whistle nonchalantly as he took up a protective position near the hatch. If things went really wrong, she knew he would open fire with his hand cannon. Somehow, she found that reassuring.

  I have the oddest friends, she thought.

  “Thank you for coming, I know it can't be easy for you to travel around,” she said.

  The first man, Claude Cordenau, gave her a polite nod, his aristocratic face pleasant but distant. Beside him, the hulking medic, Johnny Woodard, looked up from his datapad and blinked at her in consideration, before he went back to his study. The last, a woman named Aldera Kynes, just stared at her with cold, dead eyes.

  “I'm not certain how much Marcus told you about the operation...”

  “Jean Paul told us that we would have the opportunity to erase our old lives and start new ones,” Claude said with a smile, his Parisian Sector accent faint but present in his English, “that is enough, I think for us all to sign on. The money he offered was just the icing on the cake, so to speak.”

  He was tall, handsome, and had the confidence and charm that suggested he came from a wealthy background. Mel would have distrusted him almost instantly, even without knowing something about his background.

  Claude was the talker, or so Marcus's notes said. He was a professional schemer and liar... one who had angered some senior UN Guard Security Council members when he swindled them out of money in a fake business proposition. She didn't know why Marcus had protected the man, but he said he had helped Claude to hide.

 

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