by M. D. Cooper
“He’s in shock,” Brit said as the young man fell in after them. “Had a broken hand that a street doc didn’t fix right. But something’s worse inside. I think he might be bleeding internally. He’s in shock from something.”
“The autodoc is through there,” the lieutenant said, pointing across the room.
“I’m taking her there now,” the private said.
“Well, hurry up, Carson,” the lieutenant snapped. He looked at Brit, eyes growing wide when he seemed to notice she was wearing light armor and armed. “I’m First Lieutenant Sendi. Who are you?”
“Major Sykes, TSF,” Brit said curtly. She didn’t want to talk to anyone except the commanding officer. The more people who knew she was here, the more difficult it would be to get out.
“I haven’t seen you at briefing,” Sendi said. “Are you new to the detachment? I haven’t seen your medical eval.”
“No,” Brit said.
“No, you’re not new or no your eval wasn’t forwarded?”
“No to all that. Look, if you’re the medical officer around here, shouldn’t you be more worried about the dying man?”
Sendi glanced at Cal. “The autodoc will take care of it. Is he TSF like you?”
“No,” Brit said, wondering how many times she was going to need to tell the lieutenant no before she had to hit him.
Carson led the way out of the open room, past what looked like classrooms or briefing areas, to a small infirmary with an autodoc kiosk set in one side of the room. With a grunt of relief, Brit dropped Kraft on the plas-covered couch and hit the button to start the assessment process.
“You should let me do that,” Lieutenant Sendi said, moving closer to the lounge.
Brit shoved him away. “You can observe from over there. This man isn’t leaving my sight.” She glanced at Carson, who seemed more dependable than the lieutenant with green eyebrows. “When was the last time this thing was updated?”
Carson shook his head. “I don’t know, Major. That would be Lieutenant Sendi’s department.”
“Do you trust this thing?” she asked. The console scrolled through what looked like a hundred deficiencies in Kraft’s body.
“It’s up to date,” Sendi said. “I verify it myself weekly.”
“I asked the private,” Brit said. She looked at Carson. “Well?”
“I guess, Major. I’d use it if it was my buddy who was hurt. It’s not like we have options right now.”
That was very true. “I like you, Carson. You’re going to go far.”
The private gave her a surprised look and blushed.
Brit tapped the console to start the healing process. The timer started at an hour.
Well, Kraft. I’m doing more for you than you did for Tim.
Sendi glanced around her at the console, where a system code was showing on the display.
“Oof,” he said. “This guy isn’t doing so hot. What happened to him?”
“As far as I know, he broke his hand. But there must be something else going on because a street kiosk just made it worse. I’m guessing internal bleeding. We were in a pretty bad firefight a day ago.”
“A firefight?” Sendi said. “There haven’t been any reports about that. Was the station admin involved?”
“It wasn’t here. Look, is your commanding officer present? I don’t have a lot of time.”
“You were at Europa, weren’t you?” Sendi asked, looking pleased with himself. “I knew the TSF had something to do with that. That’s why we didn’t get any info through our channels at first. Was it a pirate attack? We’ve been hearing nearly a thousand ships are down.”
Brit stared at him, realizing she hadn’t been paying any attention to the greater effects of their actions on the Resolute Charity. Lyssa had crashed the local fuel economy and then Cara had invited every privateer in the vicinity to a Heartbridge dreadnought for a looting session. Then Andy had left the whole mess behind for others to clean up. It was a hell of a story, really. She wondered how many of the bored-looking officers in the other room were taking reports right now, trying to figure out what had actually happened. The Terran and Jovian Space Forces would be angry enough to learn Heartbridge had been amassing such a fleet nearby.
Heartbridge, who had been supplying the Marsians, Terrans and most likely the Jovians with Weapon Born-operated attack drones, had also been building its own fleets hidden throughout Sol. Brit had learned not to believe in grand conspiracies but this was new territory.
She glanced at Kraft’s face, which had regained some of its color. In sleep, his features lost their angry edge, making him handsome in a generic way. She didn’t want to reconcile his helplessness now with the memory of him standing behind Tim lying in the imager’s couch, fragile and small in a room full of death. Even a killer like Kraft could look vulnerable.
Sendi had still been talking as her mind wandered. Brit cut him off with a hard look. “Am I going to have to have to ask you again, Lieutenant?” She added a note of scorn to his rank.
The lieutenant caught himself, green eyebrows furrowing. “Yes, Major.” He hesitated, looking like he was going to snap to attention, then stopped himself. “I forgot. I’m sorry. I’ll go get her.”
“Do that now,” Brit said, then added, “Please.” Without knowing the detachment commander, she didn’t want to abuse the local staff too much.
Sendi snapped a salute and spun on his heel to leave the room. Brit glanced at Private Carson and caught him smirking, obviously pleased by Sendi’s discomfort.
“Don’t let Sendi see you looking so satisfied,” Brit said.
Carson dropped the smile and straightened. “Yes, Major.”
Brit nodded, turning her attention back to the console, where it seemed not much had changed since the last time she had checked it. She wished it showed some indication of likelihood of survival.
Brit sighed and leaned back in the chair, stretching her sore shoulders.
“You got anything to eat around here?” she asked Carson.
CHAPTER NINE
STELLAR DATE: 10.05.2981 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: Sunny Skies
REGION: Departing Jupiter, Jovian Combine, OuterSol
Standing just inside Tim’s door, Andy knelt to pick up Em. The Corgi, who already felt heavier than he had back on Mars 1, twisted to lick Andy’s face.
“Calm down there,” Andy said softly, laughing a little.
Carrying Em out into the hallway, Andy checked inside Cara’s room and found her hugging her pillow in her sleep. Em whined to be put down and when Andy set him on the deck, the short-legged dog went immediately to the edge of her bed. It took the puppy three tries to jump the half-meter to her mattress. Once on her bed, he snuggled into a ball beside her feet, eyes gleaming in the dim light as he continued to watch Andy.
Andy told Fran on their private channel.
She laughed.
Andy closed Cara’s door, leaving Em inside, and walked down the remaining section of the habitat ring to the airlock, passing the open door of the hydroponic garden with the safe room hidden inside. It was easy to forget they were transporting nearly three hundred Weapon Born—test tube-shaped cylinders that each contained an AI seed imaged from a human mind, including one sitting by itself that was a version of Tim.
Andy felt torn about the image of Tim, hoping it had been in some form of stasis since it was created on Clinic 46 and not floating, confused and alone, in some void. The question of what to do with the Weapon Born was made more difficult by Tim’s seed.
If every Weapon Born seed had the potential to become something like Lyssa, then they were sitting on one of the most powerful resources in Sol. Was that something he could simply hand over to an unknown entity like Alexander, even though he was the thing sentient AIs were running toward? Fran would probably tell him he was being paranoid, but he couldn’t trust Alexander simply because he was ‘saving’ AIs.
Gurgling water reminded him that Cara had restarted two of the hydroponic tanks. In the light from the corridor, he made out a line of tiny tomato starts, and a row beyond that showed starts he didn’t recognize. He would have to ask her what she had planted.
The sight of the garden coming alive again filled him with a sense of hope that would have been peaceful if an unknown entity hadn’t just come aboard the ship. He wanted to believe in the hope that something like the garden represented—a normal life with the expectation of a stable future—and he needed to remember that life went on even while surrounded by the unknown.
They had been living in a state of war even before Cruithne, he realized. The sound of the water crystallized the thought in his mind. Uncertainty and fear had defined the last two years and no amount of home-made pasta would have helped the kids feel any safer. Maybe that was why Tim always said he hated cheese sauce.
Life felt different now. It might have been the crew they had taken on board, or a sense of purpose, or Lyssa. He wasn’t sure. He hated the word hope and usually followed its use with one of his favorite sayings from the TSF: Hope is not a plan.
But it was starting to feel like a plan. Like they might get out of this with enough help.
If they got out, what then?
Andy rounded the corner to the sound of voices, spotting Fugia, May and Harl to one side of the airlock. Closer to him stood the man he recognized from the Cho, still looking like a trickster in his plum-colored suit.
“Captain Sykes,” Xander called, voice musical. “How wonderful to see you.”
“We’re running out of room in the ship,” Andy said.
“I’m surprised everyone hasn’t gone over to the Resolute Charity. This is like living in a camp trailer outside a mansion.”
“There’s an analogy no one outside Jerhattan would understand,” Andy said. “You must be trying to flatter me.”
Xander only raised an eyebrow in response.
“It’s safer over here,” Andy explained. “If we need to, we can dump the Resolute Charity and run. Lyssa can control their firepower from here. Also, it’s cozy.”
“Yes, I’m very excited to spend time with your Lyssa.”
Andy frowned. “What does that mean?”
Xander raised his hands. “Nothing sinister. I didn’t mean to insinuate. She’s very interesting to me. As are you. In my life, the only things worth pursuing are things of interest. Everything else is so boring.”
Behind him, Jeremiah shuffled from foot to foot, looking uncomfortable, while Kindel crossed her arms.
“While you’re here,” May interjected, “You’ll be able to earn your keep by helping us understand Alexander and what his goals are. We’ve been assisting AIs who have answered his call, but no word has come back from those who have reached Proteus, no coordination from him. We could be doing so much more.”
“Who is Alexander and what does he want?” Xander said. “Absolutely. Yes, of course that would interest you. I’ll be glad to share what I can.”
“I’ll tell you what you can do,” Petral said from behind Andy. “If you’re staying here, you can trade your ship for a ride. I’m taking it.”
Kindel shouted, “Hey! The shuttle belongs to me.”
Xander raised a hand, still smiling. “Be calm. I think we can reach an agreement here. Do you want to borrow our shuttle or trade it outright?”
Petral walked up beside Andy. She was wearing a red shipsuit with a utility harness, her black hair held in a ponytail. “I suppose I can say borrow, but I’m not making any promises about the condition I’ll return it in.”
“You’re leaving?” Andy asked.
Petral gave him a serious nod. “I put a tag on the security token Fugia set up for Brit. She’s got Kraft and just checked into a JSF detachment on the Cho. If I leave now, I can catch her before she leaves JC space.”
“You tagged my token,” Fugia said, looking affronted. “What made you do that?”
“You’re not the only person around here who can breach a system. I gave her more money. You were being stingy. Besides, I think she’s going to need help, especially now that she has Kraft.”
“You want revenge on Kraft yourself,” Fugia said.
“Of course. Why not? What if Brit turns out to be another good person like our Captain Sykes here? Kraft needs to pay.”
Andy let the slight pass. “You don’t know Brit very well,” he said. “But I agree she could use the help. Running off on her own wasn’t the best idea. Have you checked the nav charts? Can you make it to the Cho in time?”
“The detachment commander is trying to verify the status Fugia set up, which would have come back with nothing, except I put a hold for her to await orders. That’s going to frustrate Brit, but I’ll do my best to get her a message before I show up.”
“What are you going to do then?” Andy asked.
“She went to the JSF, which makes me think she wants to get hold of someone with the Terran Space Force. She wants to find out what Kraft knows, and they would have the resources to do that.”
“Maybe,” Andy said. “It also takes Kraft out of her control.”
“Another reason she needs my help.” Petral looked at Xander. “Well? I need to go. I’m being polite here and asking before I just take it.”
Xander’s smile remained unreadable. “Then what choice do we have?” he asked, with an edge to his words that sounded like a threat.
Andy glanced at Kindel, who still looked angry but that might have been for show as well. Jeremiah, with his bug eyes, had a vacant look as he watched Xander.
“You can leave,” Petral said.
Xander shrugged. “That’s not what I want to do. The shuttle is yours. You’ll need to fuel it up, though.” He nodded to Kindel. “Show her around.”
The spiky-haired woman nodded curtly and turned to open the airlock.
“You’re leaving now?” Andy asked.
Petral hooked her thumbs in her harness. “I have everything I need. I didn’t bring anything with me, anyway.”
“Cara’s going to miss you.”
“I thought about that,” Petral said. “I left a message on her console.” She gave Andy a smirk. “You’re doing good work with that one. I’ll be back to help her out, I promise.”
“Thanks.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Things go south with you and Fran, you should look me up.” Petral leaned toward him with the same glance she’d given him back in the club at Cruithne.
Andy blushed and she laughed warmly.
“That’s why I like you, Andy. You’re an open book.”
“You call me if you need help,” Fugia said, pushing her way past Jeremiah. She pointed a finger at the taller woman. “You don’t fall into the same ego trap as Brit. You ask for help.”
Petr
al held up her hands. “I will. I promise.”
“You coming?” Kindel asked, sounding angry about the whole transaction.
“Yeah,” Petral said. She looked from face to face in the corridor. “You all take care of yourselves. I’ll send word when I reach the Cho. Lyssa, you need to get meaner. You understand me?”
“I’ll try,” the AI answered, sounding uncertain.
“There’s no trying to get meaner. You do it. Don’t let this guy push you around.”
Xander put a hand on his chest. “I assure you, I have no such intention.”
“Right.” Petral stepped closer to Xander, squinting at him as she studied his face. “How do you work, anyway? Did you clone a body or is this some kind of bio-sheath? The rest of you are the same, aren’t you?”
Xander pulled his head back. “It’s certainly nothing special. I don’t concern myself with the particulars.”
Petral jabbed him in the chest with an index finger. “It’s your body. You should. It dies, you die, correct?”
“I’m a shard of a greater whole,” Xander said. “I don’t suppose I can ever die. In some sense, I am not actually here. I am an aspect of Alexander’s multi-nodal mind. I don’t exist.”
Fugia scoffed. “Of course, you do. You’re right here.”
“What a sad thing to say,” May said. “Is this how Alexander views all AIs, then?”
“No,” Xander corrected. “Of course not. Alexander’s mind operates on a different plane, certainly. He can be difficult to communicate with. A creation like me, an aspect of his mind, makes it more possible for him to understand the world as it exists for others. This body is just another sensor. My interactions with the world, with you, is just another data set.” Xander smiled. “You see? I am just a sensor, as much as it might hurt your sense of self for me to admit that. Thinking of me as someone is like thinking of your eyeballs as separate from yourself.”
“Yeah,” Petral said. “I think that’s bullshit. You heard what I said, Lyssa.”
Petral nodded to Kindel and followed her through the airlock.
“It’s a good shuttle,” Xander said, obviously unsure how to respond. “You don’t need to worry on that account. It’s quite valuable, really.”