by Ryk Brown
“Why?”
“A light switch that senses who has entered the room and sets the lights to that person’s recorded preferences is nice, but it is also expensive and requires a special technician to repair when it fails. A simple mechanical switch may not be as convenient, but it works just fine.”
Jessica looked at him funny. “But not as well as the one that sets the lights just the way you like, without you having to do anything.”
“We believe that technology, although useful in many applications, can make life too easy. When that happens, the struggle that is life is gone.”
“I don’t know about you, but I’ve had enough struggle to last me a lifetime,” Jessica insisted as she opened up the small black package in her hand. “This tech is good tech, trust me.”
“That little device will collect all the transmissions in the area?” Stethan wondered, looking unconvinced.
“This little device will collect transmissions from the whole planet, from space, from everywhere, assuming you people use satellite communications,” Jessica insisted.
“We do.”
“But, they’re expensive and difficult to repair,” she joked.
“The curvature of the planet requires them…”
“I was joking,” Jessica clarified as she activated the device. A small antenna rose from the box. After reaching a meter in length, a collector dish opened up to form a circle and then twisted itself into a sphere.
“That’s impressive,” Stethan admitted.
“Picked it up on Sanctuary,” Jessica told him.
“Sanctuary?”
“Long story.” Jessica adjusted the device, checked its display, and then activated it. “That should do it.”
“I hope the Dusahn do not detect it.”
“It’s completely passive and uses so little power that you’d have to be standing right next to it for a scanner to detect it. So, unless the Dusahn regularly patrol your rooftops, we should be good.”
* * *
Commander Prechitt entered the training offices on Casbon, data pad in hand.
“Good afternoon, Commander,” Talisha greeted from her desk. “Want some mellani root salad?” she offered. “There’s a huge batch of it in the fridge. One of the trainee’s wives dropped it off. It seems she is worried that we instructors are not eating well enough.”
“Then she’s been to our mess hall,” the commander quipped. “Got a minute?”
“Sure, what’s up?” she asked, putting her bowl down.
“You mentioned that all the Nighthawks have AIs, right? That they just hadn’t been activated?”
“All of the single-seat ships, yes, but not the two-seat trainers. Why do you ask?”
“Any chance we could activate the AIs on all of them?”
“Sure, but you would have to pay the license fee for each AI. They’re owned by SilTek.”
“SilTek?”
“The company that built the Nighthawks for the Sugali.”
“Are they expensive?”
Talisha laughed. “Almost as much as the damned fighters, themselves,” she replied. “That’s why the Casbons only purchased temporary licenses for sixteen ships, to be used for training. The licenses expire in one Casbon year.”
“Then what happens?”
“The AIs switch off,” she replied. “Why are you asking?”
“We need to borrow at least six ships,” the commander said, “with AIs.”
“What for?”
“It seems the gravity lift systems emit some type of field that disrupts Dusahn shields just enough to allow the fighters to penetrate them. This is how two of our pilots disabled the shields on a Dusahn battleship and saved the Aurora.”
“Really. How the hell did they figure that trick out?”
“It was by accident.”
“I see.” Talisha’s expression suddenly changed. “You’re going to attack some battleships, aren’t you?”
“Actually, they’re coming to attack us,” the commander corrected. “I mean, the Aurora; the entire Rogen system, actually. The Nighthawks may be the only way we can stop them.”
“Why not just integrate the tech into a weapon of some sort, like a missile, or something?”
“I’m sure we will, eventually,” the commander agreed, “but there’s no time. The attack is in two days.”
“How many battleships?”
“At least three,” the commander replied. “One of them is a dreadnought.”
“I’m not familiar with that term,” Talisha admitted.
“A really big battleship with really big guns.”
“Then you’re definitely going to need more than six ships,” Talisha insisted, “not to mention pilots.” After a moment, she added, “When do we leave?”
“I need you here, Talisha, to train the Casbon pilots,” Commander Prechitt insisted.
“Your Corinari pilots are doing all the training,” Talisha pointed out. “I’m just a consultant. The Casbon pilots aren’t even ready for the type of flying I can teach them.”
“It’s dangerous.”
“So?”
“I mean, really dangerous,” the commander said. “Not like flying against the Ahka.”
“Are you going?”
“Yes, I have to. Not that many of us have flown the Nighthawks.”
“All the more reason I should go,” Talisha insisted.
Commander Prechitt sighed. “I’m not going to talk you out of this, am I?”
“Nope,” Talisha replied, rising from her desk. “I’ll get ten ships prepped for departure.”
“Can we spare that many?”
“How long will we be gone?”
“Four or five days, at the most,” the commander replied, “assuming we all survive.”
“The first group of pilots is just starting their dual-instruction rotations. The second group is still in the simulators. Those ships are just going to be sitting there, doing nothing, for at least another two weeks.”
“Very well,” Commander Prechitt agreed. “I’ll round up eight of our pilots with Nighthawk experience, and we’ll meet you on the flight line in a couple hours.”
“Outstanding!” Talisha exclaimed with excitement.
“You really shouldn’t be happy about this, Talisha,” the commander said.
“Sorry, I won’t let it happen again,” she promised as she fought back a smile.
* * *
Jessica came out of the bathroom and looked around the living room of Marli’s apartment. “Where’s your father?”
“Stethan is taking a nap in the spare bedroom,” Marli replied.
“You have a spare bedroom?”
“My roommate moved out last month,” Marli replied. “I’m still looking for a new one.”
“You don’t have to go to work?” Jessica wondered.
“I work evenings as a medical tech in a clinic down the street.”
“I see.”
“What do you do?” Marli wondered. “Are you some kind of spy?”
“You know, I’m not sure what I am,” Jessica admitted. “First I was spec ops, then a Ghatazhak, now I’m a tactical officer, sort of.”
“I don’t know what any of those are.”
“Let’s just go with ‘covert operative’.”
“Have you known Stethan long?”
“You people call your parents by their first names?” Jessica wondered.
“No, not usually,” Marli admitted, taking a seat on the chair across from Jessica. “It’s just not an easy thing to do, suddenly. I met him seventeen years ago and, even then, I only spent a few days with him. Then, he was gone again.”
“Yeah, I guess it would be hard to just suddenly start calling him ‘pop’.”
“Pop?”
<
br /> “Another word for father,” Jessica explained.
“Your people call their fathers ‘pop’?”
“Pop, papa, dad, daddy…all kinds of things, really. Depends on what part of the planet you’re from and what language you speak,” Jessica explained.
“You have more than one language?”
“Oh, God, we have hundreds of them, probably thousands.”
“You must have a very big population.”
“We do, now,” Jessica said.
“Where are you from?”
Jessica thought for a moment. “I don’t suppose it would hurt anything to tell you,” she decided. “I’m from Earth, although I left there more than seven years ago.”
“You’re from Earth?” Marli exclaimed in disbelief. “I thought everyone on Earth and all the core worlds were killed by a plague?”
“We nearly were,” Jessica admitted. “But we rebuilt. All the core worlds did.”
“Incredible,” Marli said. “I had no idea.”
“Most worlds aren’t aware of our recovery,” Jessica explained. “We only got back out into space recently.”
“You have jump drives, as well?”
“Indeed, we do,” Jessica replied. “We invented them, actually.”
“Then, the Dusahn did not invent them?”
“Are you kidding?” Jessica laughed. “The Dusahn are leeches, just like the Jung. They conquer worlds and steal their technology.”
“Have you seen many worlds?” Marli asked.
“I lost count a long time ago.”
“It must be amazing.”
“Not always,” Jessica admitted. “Some worlds are so bad you wonder why anyone ever settled there.”
Marli thought for a moment. “Where are you taking us?”
“I haven’t agreed to take you anywhere yet,” Jessica reminded her, “but if I do, you will most likely be going to Neramese, at least until your father can be released.”
“Then, he is a prisoner?”
“Yes.”
“But, he’s helping you, right?”
“Yes, he is.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I’m sure we can work something out,” Jessica promised.
Marli thought again, afraid to speak.
“Something bothering you,” Jessica wondered, “besides the obvious?”
“Would the Dusahn really kill everyone?”
Jessica sighed. “I’ve seen them glass entire worlds, two of them while I was still on them.”
“But you survived,” Marli said, looking for some thread of hope to cling to.
“Only because I had a way to get off those worlds before it was too late.”
“Then, you think I should leave Orswella?” Marli asked.
“Look, Marli, I don’t know what’s going to happen to your world. I don’t even know if you’ll be better off leaving it. I do know that my people are going to destroy your shipyards, that Dusahn battleship guarding it, and any other ships that get in our way.”
“But, why?” Marli pleaded. “We’ve never done anything to your people. Why would you put us at risk like that?”
“You’re already at risk,” Jessica insisted. “The Dusahn are never going to leave your world in peace. When they go, the last warship will destroy your civilization from orbit with the press of a button. Your people’s best bet is to arm yourselves, and try to kill the troops on the surface before they kill you.”
“That’s impossible,” Marli argued.
“Not if most of them leave,” Jessica insisted. “In fact, this may be the perfect time to rise up. When the Alliance takes out that Dusahn battleship, the troops on the ground will have no support. We could even supply your people with weapons…”
“Orswellans are non-violent.”
“You won a war,” Jessica reminded her.
“From space,” Marli argued. “I wasn’t even alive, of course, but from what I understand, there was no face-to-face armed conflict. My people wouldn’t even know how to use a weapon.”
“You’d be surprised what people can do when they have to,” Jessica said.
“There has to be a better way.”
“If we knew exactly where all the troops were stationed, we might be able to take them out,” Jessica told her, “but I can’t promise anything.”
“I can tell you where they are stationed,” Marli promised. “Every station, checkpoint, base, airfield…all of them.”
“How do you know where all these places are?” Jessica wondered, looking suspicious.
“Are you kidding, all young women on my world know where they are. We avoid them at all costs.”
“Got a map?”
“Are you going to take me with you?”
Jessica smiled. “You’re more like your father than you know.”
* * *
“You can speak to her from anywhere,” Vladimir replied over the intercom on the ready room desk.
“I can?”
“Da. Through the intercom or your comm-set.”
“She’s in the ship’s computers?”
“That would be impossible,” Vladimir replied, forcing back a giggle. “Our computers are not compatible. It would be like connecting a light panel to a hydraulic line. Her program is still running on her own native system in the Nighthawk fighter. She is just connected to the ship through a complex software interface, which allows her to communicate with the Aurora’s systems.”
“Who wrote that program?” Nathan wondered.
“She did,” Vladimir replied.
“That’s incredible,” Nathan exclaimed.
“I told you she was amazing,” Vladimir boasted. “She is available to you anytime; just call her the same way you would call me. You can even make it a secure link, if you like.”
“And it won’t interfere with what Abby and Deliza are doing?” Nathan asked.
“She can conduct multiple simultaneous conversations,” Vladimir assured him.
“Good to know,” Nathan replied. “Thanks.”
Nathan clicked off the intercom, then leaned back in his chair, thinking. After a few moments, he donned his comm-set and tapped the side of it. “Aurora, Captain,” he called, feeling a bit strange making the hail.
“How may I help you, Captain?” the AI asked in the familiar, female voice.
“Is this Leta or Aurora?”
“I am the same construct that you know as Leta. I have simply been renamed Aurora by Commander Kamenetskiy.”
“Weird,” Nathan said, more to himself.
“I can use a different voice when responding as Aurora, if you’d prefer.”
“I think that would help,” Nathan agreed.
“Would you prefer a male or female voice?”
“Female,” Nathan replied. “Definitely. Aurora is not exactly a masculine name.”
“Any particular type?”
“Pick something,” Nathan instructed.
“How is this?” Aurora asked, her voice taking on a husky tone.
“A little too deep.”
“How about this?” she asked, her voice changing again.
“That’s better,” Nathan decided.
“Are there any accents, regional dialects, or types of syntax you prefer? I have studied your language files and can speak all of the Earth languages, as well as thousands of languages you have likely not yet encountered.”
“Interesting,” Nathan commented. “Can you do a British accent?”
“Of course,” she replied in the requested accent. “I can be as British as you like.”
“That might be a little too British.”
“You’d prefer something less obvious, then, like Captain Taylor’s accent.”
“I guess that would w
ork,” Nathan agreed. “Just, don’t sound too much like Captain Taylor. That would be weird.”
“Of course, sir,” Aurora agreed. “Is this better?”
“Let’s give that a try.” A thought suddenly occurred to him. “Are you currently speaking with Doctor Sorenson and Deliza Ta’Akar?”
“Not at the moment, but they are nearby,” Aurora replied. “My last conversation with them was thirteen minutes ago. However, they have been addressing me as Leta.”
“And you answer them in your original voice?”
“That is correct,” Aurora replied, using her Leta voice to reassure him.
“Good. From now on, when addressed as Aurora, use this new voice.”
“With everyone, or just with you, Captain?”
“Everyone, to avoid confusion.”
“As you wish, Captain,” Aurora acknowledged, using her new voice with an accent similar to Cameron’s. “Was there anything else, sir?”
“Yes. Are you aware of the current tactical situation?”
“There is a Dusahn battle group composed of two battleships, one dreadnought, two missile frigates, and twelve gunships on their way to the Rogen system. It is expected that they will launch an attack in approximately sixty-five hours, give or take a few hours. This is, of course, after they have staged somewhere outside the target system in order to fully recharge their jump drives.”
“And you are aware of the Rogen system’s defenses, as well as those of the Karuzari fleet?”
“I am,” Aurora replied. “Would you like me to list them for you?”
“That won’t be necessary,” Nathan assured her. After a sigh, he said, “Are you able to calculate our chances of success?”
“Yes, but first I will require a proper definition of success,” Aurora answered.
“Fair enough,” Nathan replied. “Success would be that the Dusahn forces are either defeated or forced to retreat, and neither of the Rogen worlds, nor our forces, has suffered too much damage or loss of life.”
“That still leaves a lot of room for error; however, I will attempt to answer your question.” The AI paused, giving the impression that it was giving the matter some thought. “Without the ability to penetrate the Dusahn shields, your odds of success are less than thirty percent. However, there will be considerable losses of both life and assets.”
“And the Aurora?”