The Messenger Box Set: Books 1-6

by J. N. Chaney

  “It is not,” Sentinel said. “The technology employed by the drone was quite well known to the Creators.”

  “Probably all they had that could get here right away.” Dash then shifted his attention back to Sentinel. “Which takes us to the other big question—how long until the next Golden attack. Any ideas about that?”

  “It is certain these drones transmitted status updates throughout their approach to the Forge, and during the battle. Based on that, and analyzing past patterns of Golden deployments, I would estimate they will be here, in force, in no more than four days, and more likely three.”

  There was stunned silence.

  Dash finally broke it. “Three days?” He looked around at the others and shook his head. “Unless we come up with a plan, we’re not going to get to hang those curtains.”

  11

  Leira glared at the data module. “Three days? That’s nowhere near enough time to get ready for any serious attack!”

  “Nonetheless, that is the most realistic timeline,” Sentinel said. “I would also add that your ship, the Slipwing, is dramatically outmatched by even one of these drones, so it should not be considered a significant factor in the upcoming confrontation.”

  “Rub it in, why don’t you,” Amy muttered.

  “This is great,” Dash snapped, his stomach clenched into a hard knot. “But I need good news. Actually, I need data and opportunities. You get me those, and we’ll do the rest.”

  “I recognize that first phrase as sarcasm, as none of this would constitute good news at all,” Sentinel replied. “I have become much more adept at recognizing it.”

  Dash turned to the others. “Three days. It’ll probably take us that long just to get one more power core for the Archetype. We can forget about the rest of them. And those drones almost kicked my ass.” He shifted his attention to Custodian. “Can the Forge do anything to help fend off another attack?”

  “In its current state of activation, very little.”

  “Can it move? Can we take it out of this system? You said it has some ability to move around.”

  “Again, in its current state, no.”

  “So all we’ve got is the Archetype,” Conover said. “And the Slipwing, but she’s not going to be of much use, it seems.”

  “Just as a target,” Leira replied. “And not even that for very long, once the shooting starts.”

  Amy had lost her habitual grin. “In other words, like Dash said, more or less, we’re screwed.”

  “Not necessarily,” Viktor said. “We do have another option. We could take the Archetype and the Slipwing and just leave.”

  Conover looked at him, stunned. Amy actually gasped. They both launched into objections at once, but Dash gave a sharp whistle, bringing the sudden debate to a halt.

  “Let’s put a pin in that, okay?” To Custodian, he said, “So that’s it? There’s nothing the Forge can do? It’s basically just a big, fat target?”

  Leira crossed her arms. “Seems like the Unseen really dropped the ball on this one. You’d think they’d have made sure this place could at least defend itself before doing its big reveal.”

  “It is possible for the Forge to defend itself,” Custodian said.

  Dash blinked. “What? How?”

  “With a level two power core, of course.”

  “You say that like I know what you mean.”

  Custodian said nothing.

  “Sentinel,” Dash went on in an exasperated voice, “tell me, what’s a level two power core?”

  “I do not have that information. I am only aware of the power cores intended for use by the Archetype.”

  “Fine,” Amy said. “Custodian, what’s a level two power core, and how do they work?”

  “I am only able to communicate that information to the Messenger.”

  Conover nodded. “Makes sense. You don’t want to compromise your internal security for just anybody.”

  Dash winced as Leira nudged him. He got her meaning.

  “Ask what? Oh.” Back to Custodian, Dash said, “What she said, then. What’s a level two power core, how do they work, and where can we find them?”

  “And can we do it in less than three days,” Leira added.

  “In terms of power generation, a level two core approximates that produced by ten level one cores. The three of those that you have installed in the engine room are sufficient to power life support and basic functions for the entirety of the Forge.”

  “And there’s what, eight slots for cores down there, total? So the other five would be equal to just half of one of these level twos?” He whistled. “So, if we find a level two, can we install it in one of those slots?” Dash imagined how much power filling all of the remaining slots with level twos would produce.

  “No. There are two additional slots in the engine room for level two cores. The five open level one receptacles will not accept level two cores.”

  “Oh, yeah. I remember those other two opening up. Alright, so what you’re saying is one level two core would let you defend the Forge.”

  “Yes. It would enable the use of a cloaking system, as well as some weapons, all of which are currently disabled.”

  “Have I mentioned how tired I am of this whole we find Unseen tech, but it doesn’t work until you jump through these hoops thing?”

  Unsurprisingly, Custodian said nothing.

  “Where do we find a level two power core?” Viktor asked.

  Dash said, “Let me check. Sentinel?”

  “I am unable to distinguish any power cores in the data I have available that are distinct from any others.”

  Dash balled his fists and started pacing in frustration before stopping, breathing deeply, and letting his eyes close. “We could do something useful, and maybe get the Forge ready to face an attack, but to do that we need something we can’t find, and we’ve only got three days anyway.”

  “There is a level two power core available,” Custodian said, “and it is close enough that it is at least theoretically possible to retrieve it, and then return here, within three days.”

  Dash took a slow breath, then let it out. “And how long were you going to keep that bit of information to yourself?”

  “Until this moment, when I actually had an opportunity to say it.”

  Amy actually snickered and said, “Machine sass. That hurts.”

  Dash shot her a look, then shifted his focus back to Custodian. “You know, I am also getting really tired of alien super-AI with attitude,” he snapped. “It reminds of some hidebound, bureaucratic docking masters I’ve known.”

  “Dash,” Leira said, stepping in front of him. “Every second you rant is another one shaved off our three days.”

  He took another breath, trying to calm his sudden surge of anger. “You’re right.” He held up his hands. “You’re right. But we will address this conversation loop at some point.” To Custodian, he said, “Okay. Where, exactly, is this level two core?”

  As soon as he’d asked the question, he knew the answer—a star system about ten hours away from the Forge at their best possible speed, on a planet called Shylock. He related this to the others, then said, “So, there we go. If we leave now, we can…” He trailed off as Leira held up her hand. “What?”

  “Dash, we’ve only just started to understand this place, this Forge. We don’t know what capabilities it might have. And the Unseen haven’t exactly been very forthcoming about their tech.”

  “Sure, but we know what capabilities it doesn’t have, like being able to defend itself. Custodian just said so.”

  “Custodian also only just told you about that, and the whole level two core thing, because you asked. It’s an AI, remember. It’s programmed to do what it does. We could spend a full day of the three we have left trying to get that core on Shylock and maybe succeeding. Or we could spend that day instead learning more about what we already have right here.”

  “And that assumes it only takes us a day to get that level two core,” C
onover said.

  “Sure, or we could spend another day here, learn nothing, and then only have two left to get that core,” Dash said. “And, like the kid here says, we might find two days aren’t enough time.”

  “I’m still not convinced that’s such a bad thing,” Viktor said. “I still think our best bet might be to just not even be here when the Golden arrive.”

  Amy shook her head, even stomped a foot. “No. We can’t just give this place up. The tech here…we’ve only just started to understand it. If this was an ocean we wanted to explore, we’ve looked at the surface, but not even yet dipped a toe in it.”

  “We should still go get that level two core,” Conover said. “That way we know the Forge will be able to take care of itself.”

  Amy nodded at that, too. “Sure. What we can’t do is just give it up.”

  Conover gave an emphatic nod. “Amy’s right. We can’t just abandon the Forge.”

  “Oh, please,” Viktor said. “Conover, if Amy said we should all jump naked out of an airlock, you’d think it was the greatest idea ever.”

  Conover just gaped back at Viktor. “I…wait. What? What do you mean?”

  Despite the tension fuming the air like smoke, Conover’s sputtering babble almost made Dash laugh. Leira rolled her eyes. Amy just looked at her feet, but Dash could see her smiling.

  “Anyway, Amy was right the first time,” Leira said. “We need to focus our time here.”

  “I can’t agree,” Viktor snapped, his voice suddenly hard as ablative armor. “We have no way of knowing we can accomplish anything here before the enemy’s at the gates. If we’re going to go chasing after power cores, let’s get the Archetype fully powered up. It’s obviously the weapon the Unseen intended to fight the Golden. This is just the factory where it was made.”

  Amy’s head snapped back up and she shook it, fast and emphatically. “No! We don’t know that. We can’t—"

  Dash had been flicking his attention from one to the next as the debate flashed among them, but he finally held up a hand of authority, his face like a thundercloud. "A moment. It's up to me to link to the Archetype and put this plan in motion." He turned away in the buzzing silence.

  “Okay,” he finally said. “What if we do both? I go off to get this level two core thing and take someone with me, and the rest of you stay here to figure stuff about this place out.”

  “That won’t work,” Viktor said, shaking his head gravely. “Like it or not, this all revolves around you. You’re the Messenger. Only you can search for the core. But only you can unlock whatever this station is all about.”

  “It’s true,” Amy said. “You’re pretty damned good, Dash, but even you can’t be in two places at once.”

  To Custodian, Dash said, “Can I give someone else my access—whatever access the Messenger has, anyway—to the Forge? Let them do what I’d do here, if I was here.”

  “The Creators did not allow for that possibility. Only you are designated as the Messenger. There is no mechanism to change that.”

  “Dammit,” Dash muttered.

  “We need to make a decision, Dash,” Conover said. “Time is passing.”

  Leira said, “No. You need to decide, Dash. Viktor and Amy are right. In the end, this comes down to what you want to do.”

  Dash put his hands behind his head, fingers laced together, and leaned back while tumbling the possibilities in his mind, one over the other. “I wasn’t sure of the job description, but now that it’s here, the decision is mine.” He sighed, but it was half-hearted. “I was perfectly happy being a courier, forever chasing shitty jobs to make a few credits.”

  That made Leira raise an eyebrow. “Really?”

  Dash heaved a sigh and let his arms drop back to his sides. “No, not really. But there must be some kind of happy medium between down-and-out-space-pilot and savior-of-the universe, right?”

  The others offered sympathetic shrugs and nods, but stayed silent, waiting for Dash’s decision.

  He finally said, “You’ve all made really good points. Which kind of sucks, because this would be a lot easier if you didn’t all make so much damned sense and there was only one decision that would work.” He looked at Viktor. “I get what you’re saying. I really do. But I don’t think the Unseen did all this to bring us here, to the Forge, for us to just abandon it to the Golden. And I don’t think the Forge is just a factory. Together, the Archetype and the Forge are a lot stronger than each is alone. As a unit, they’re magnified. They have unlimited possibilities in combat and other areas we can’t even conceive. That’s one issue.”

  Now he turned to Leira. “I get what you’re saying, too. But now that we know about this level two power core setup, we can’t just ignore it, stay here, and hope we manage to suss out stuff about the Forge that might help us fight the Golden. We know this super-core will power this place up so it can actually go on the offensive, and not lay inert like a punching bag hanging from a ship’s girder. This Forge is a weapon because everything can be a weapon when applied properly.”

  He looked around at all of them. “So, let’s go get that level two core, bring it back here, and be ready to take on the Golden when they show up. And let’s do it now. This instant. We’ve spent enough time arguing about this.”

  Leira nodded her agreement. So did Amy and Conover, although his face still shone an embarrassed red.

  Viktor, though, shook his head. “I think it’s a mistake, Dash. I think we’re making what feels like your ‘last throw’ by doing this.”

  “Maybe. But sometimes you do win that last throw. And sometimes you win it big.”

  “I’ve never been a gambling man,” Viktor replied. “The whole idea of a last throw frankly terrifies me.” He sighed. “But, if that’s the plan, then let’s make it work.”

  Later, as Leira powered up the Slipwing and Dash settled himself into the Archetype’s cradle, he couldn’t help chewing on Viktor’s last, grim words—that this was what amounted to a last throw.

  Dash hoped not, because every time he’d made one of those, he’d inevitably lost it all.

  12

  The moment they dropped out of unSpace, both the Archetype and the Slipwing were awash in radio transmissions from the planet called Shylock. It spoke to a busy, bustling society, but Dash knew little about it. He’d heard of Shylock, in that he’d seen it mentioned on the Needs Slate, the jobs board couriers and their clients used to hook up and negotiate contracts. The planet’s only claim to fame, as far as he knew, was that tech hunters sometimes flocked here to chase rumors of Unseen gadgets. It was all just rumor, innuendo, and, ultimately, conspiracy theories that drove the tech hunters, of course. But that never stopped anyone with big dreams and little sense, so Shylock had been picked over, again and again—and probably would be for a long time yet.

  As he zoomed sunward in the Archetype, having left the Forge in order to retrieve a power core, to spool up more of the ancient station’s systems so it could protect itself from an attack by an entirely different alien race, Dash thought, If those tech hunters only knew…

  Ironically, though, they’d been right. There was a level two power core on Shylock, close to a city called Featherport. That core, by itself, would have made some tech hunter pretty much a superstar across the entire arm. Mega rich, at that. Meanwhile, Dash had been surrounded by enough tech to buy and sell the entire galaxy twice over.

  And it hadn’t earned him anything other than a responsibility bigger than the world itself.

  Still, the burning question was—if there was a power core down there, and the place had been shaken upside down by the tech hunters, how had they not managed to find it?

  “Dash,” Leira said, cutting off his aggravating reverie, “I’m leery of how close we are to Clan Shirna space here. We need to keep a watch out for them.”

  “I hear you. We kicked their asses pretty good when they were trying to get that Lens, but I doubt they’re completely out of the picture.”

  A good
bit of caution, he thought, as Shylock grew from a distant point of light to a distinct disk framed against the glow of the distant Shadow Nebula. From Shylock, they were looking at the nebula from almost edge-on, which meant everything to what was currently its left was Clan Shirna space. The Pasture—the vast, artificial comet-field where he’d stumbled on the Archetype—was actually only a few star systems away. The proximity of Clan Shirna, who were really just duped minions of the Golden, threw yet another worry on the ever-growing pile that Dash had to consider as part of his situational awareness.

  “Given its current level of technology,” Sentinel said, “the planet ahead has a limited ability to discern details about incoming traffic, as they employ only simple radar. I have neutralized the Archetype’s returns. However, as was the case at Passage, I cannot prevent the Archetype from being seen by visual examination.”

  “Got it,” Dash said, as he coordinated with Leira to edge the Archetype close against the Slipwing until they were almost touching. It should be enough to simply make the Slipwing look, at a distance, like a ship kludged together from various hulls. That, plus their chosen approach path to the planet, should be enough to prevent the Archetype from being detected, at least by a casual observer. In any case, it was the best they could do.

  Dash listened as Leira explained to Shylock’s traffic control that her unusual inbound trajectory was due to a fault in the helm control, and that she might have to put down briefly in a remote landing spot to do a quick repair. She would then bring the Slipwing to Featherport, a city on the largest continent’s eastern coast. He braced himself for a suspicious objection from the controller, but the bored voice simply acknowledged her, and that was it. Apparently, the good people of Shylock were used to ships putting down in the wilderness, and probably assumed she was yet another of a multitude of hopeful tech hunters.