The Messenger Box Set: Books 1-6

by J. N. Chaney

  Freya, still smiling, shrugged. “I had help. Custodian and Ragsdale were both in on it.”

  “Oh.” Dash blinked. Well, that helped explain that.

  “Ragsdale too?”

  “After what happened with that crashed Golden ship on Gulch, there was no way I was going to try going behind his back on something like this.”

  It was a good point, one that Dash gave a nod of admiration. “And Custodian, the AI who’s supposed to be all deferential to me, you know, the Messenger?” He raised his voice a little at the end of that and shifted his attention away from Freya.

  “In all matters I normally do defer to you,” Custodian said. “However, your health and well-being are also of concern to me, and Freya made a strong case regarding why this particular endeavor of hers should be kept from you.”

  He looked back at Freya. “And that case was?”

  “Dash,” Freya said. “How did you feel walking in here just now?”

  “How did I feel? Well, surprised. And impressed. Actually, kind of awed.”

  “Excited that we have this greenspace on the Forge now? A place to come and relax, get away from ships and Dark Metal, and mines and missiles and—”

  “I get it. And, yeah, I guess I am.” He smiled. “You didn’t do this just for me, though.”

  “No. For everyone. See, that’s the benefit of not being a soldier, or an officer, always thinking about strategy, the next battle, defending the Forge, all that. I’m an outsider, looking in at you guys. And what I’m seeing is a lot of people who’re starting to look…I don’t know, stretched too thin, I guess. Tired all the time. Doing too much, for too long, in the middle of something that’s scary in ways I can only probably try to imagine.” She looked around and shrugged. “I want you guys to have a place to, if not get away from it entirely, then to at least take the edge off it for a while.” She finished on a smile. “Plumato wine and glowing green stuff only goes so far.”

  As she spoke, Dash thought about their recent recovery of the Shroud, and particularly about that time he spent just hanging in space while the Shroud was rigged for towing. How vast and cold and empty space had felt. How worried he was that they’d be counterattacked and have to fight again, maybe against much superior forces.

  How risky it all was.

  How tired he was.

  Instinct kicked in. Dash stepping forward, grabbed Freya, and hugged her.

  “Thank you,” he said. “Thank you for doing this.”

  She hugged him back, then he stepped back and looked around again. “You still haven’t told me why this place looks so…established. I can’t believe these plants are just a couple of months old. Especially those trees.”

  “Actually, for most of these plants, this really is just two months of growth. For others, like the trees, I used botanical sleight of hand and modified their biochemistry to make them grow much faster. Unfortunately, it also means they’re going to die much sooner, probably in no more than, say, three or four years. By then, though, I plan to have trees about the same size here, grown the old-fashioned way.”

  Dash nodded, then followed Freya as she offered him a tour. The park filled this first compartment, plus about half of the adjoining one. By the time they reached the point where the soil gave way to deck plating, Dash was already pointing into the remaining adjacent compartments stretching off in a gentle arc, following the curve of the Forge.

  “I am totally convinced,” he said. “Let’s plan to fill all these compartments with parkland. I think we can afford the space, and this is—well, it’s what we need. It’s life.”

  Freya beamed at the praise and the implicit blessing to carry on with her project but gave a self-deprecating shrug. “That’s the downside of not being a soldier. Sometimes, I feel like I’m not really contributing much.”

  “Well, you are officially a huge contributor to what we’re trying to accomplish here, Freya,” Dash replied, giving her a firm nod. “I figured we might be able to use the Greenbelt for something like this, but it’s a pain shuttling back and forth to it. This—” He nodded once more. “Yeah, this is much better. The immediacy of this is what we need. What all of us need, really.”

  He left Freya to get to his meeting with Viktor in the fabrication plant. As he did, he thought about something she’d said.

  Unfortunately, it also means they’re going to die much sooner, probably in no more than, say, three or four years. By then, though, I plan to have trees about the same size here, grown the old-fashioned way.

  She was thinking ahead three or four years. Dash had trouble seeing beyond three or four days. But, if he tried, he could envision himself being here three or four years from now, with the war hopefully long won.

  Which meant he could think of the Forge as more than just a munitions factory and a weapon. He could think of it as home.

  “Did you know that Freya has been building a park aboard the Forge?” Dash asked Viktor.

  Viktor stooped beneath a mechanical arm moving to lift a freshly cast component of a new mine layer out of a mold. “I’d heard rumors, yes.”

  Dash frowned. “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “I ran into Benzel and Harolyn on the way here, and they both said the same thing. Have you guys all been working together to keep this a secret from me?”

  Viktor smiled. “You can blame Custodian. As soon as it ever came up in conversation, he asked us to stop talking about it, especially around you. I guess it was meant to be a surprise—well, to you, anyway.”

  “Well, it was. A really nice surprise.” He raised his voice a little “Although it makes me wonder what else these AIs are keeping from me.”

  “Nothing of direct relevance to the war effort,” Custodian replied. “Of course.”

  “I believe you,” Dash said. “Really, I do.” He cocked his head and narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “But that answer implies there might be things not of immediate relevance to our war effort that you are keeping from me.”

  “Many things, actually,” Custodian said. “However, I assume you are not interested in second-to-second details of power distribution in the Forge, or continual updates on atmospheric pressure in the docking bay.”

  “Yeah, no. That’s fine.” Dash looked at Viktor. “Sometimes less really is more.”

  Viktor nodded, but Custodian continued talking before he could speak.

  “That said, there is a matter of direct relevance to the war effort you do need to consider, Messenger.”

  “I was just going to get to that,” Viktor said. “Custodian and I were discussing updates and refinements to our production schedule, and he mentioned that we actually have a lot of Dark Metal available—enough that we have some options. And, since you asked me and Conover to oversee this stuff, I said we should come to you with those options and see how you want to proceed.”

  Dash ducked as another automated arm passed overhead. Nearby, a mold rumbled closed and began to fill with molten metal. Dash took Viktor’s arm and led him away, saying, “Let’s go stand somewhere where we’re not likely to get clocked by a robot arm, or accidentally knocked into a vat of something super hot.”

  “The chances of you being injured by the operations of the Forge are—” Custodian said, sounding a little aggrieved—

  “Fifty-fifty,” Dash cut in. “It either happens, or it doesn’t.”

  “That makes no sense.”

  “Tell Sentinel that. It’s her joke.”

  Viktor grinned. “Really?”

  “Yes, really.” They stopped in a clear space, away from the operating fabricators. It struck Dash that this very space had been swept with pulse-gun shots exchanged with the Verity who’d infiltrated the station. Not a trace of that battle remained, which made Dash fiercely glad; it meant those Verity had died for nothing, which suited him just fine.

  “Anyway, what are these options you’re talking about?”

  “Custodian says we can build more mechs.”

 
Dash raised his eyebrows. “Okay, that is good news. Another Archetype or Swift would be really helpful.”

  “Oh, we’ve got more choices than that. Custodian?”

  A holo-image appeared. Dash had come to realize that Custodian could project them virtually anywhere in the Forge, thanks to a built-in property of its basic structure. This image showed two mechs, both very different from the Archetype or the Swift. One, labelled Talon, was a lighter mech, similar to the Swift, but apparently massing even less, so it was faster and nimbler, but more lightly armed. The other, called a Pulsar, was the opposite—bigger, even more heavily armored than the Archetype, but apparently meant more for support roles in combat—particularly electronic warfare, both offensive and defensive, and the evaluation and retrieval of tech.

  As Dash studied the two schematics, Viktor went on. “It seems that both these mechs are meant to complement the ones we’ve already got. One is optimized for reconnaissance and skirmishing, while the other is meant to hang back and support the other three.”

  “I assume these are newly discovered plans?” Dash asked.

  “Yes, they were included in the data stores in the tandem power core you recovered from Burrow,” Custodian replied.

  “And we have enough Dark Metal to build both of these and get the Shroud online?”

  “We do,” Viktor said. “The Shroud will have to be rebuilt anyway because of battle damage. But it turns out that the way the Golden reverse-engineered the Shroud from the partial schematic they had for it used a lot more Dark Metal than was necessary. When you have the full, correct plans, though, you can build it properly, and that’s going to save us hundreds of kilos of the stuff.”

  Dash crossed his arms. “How long until that’s done and we have a working Shroud? Because these new mechs will need power cores, right?”

  “At least several weeks,” Custodian replied. “We can fabricate components for the new mechs at the same time so that they are complete at about the same time the Shroud is able to begin producing power cores which, as you note, they will require.”

  “Of course, this raises a whole other question,” Viktor said.

  “Yeah. Who will pilot them?”

  “I have a couple of suggestions.”

  Dash looked at Viktor. “I’m all ears.”

  Dash was still studying the schematics of the two new mechs, now projected as a holo-image in the War Room, when Viktor entered with Conover and Amy.

  “We in the shit for something?” Amy asked, sounding absolutely unconcerned about the prospect.

  Conover, though, saw the schematics and immediately stepped close, eagerly studying them. “These are new,” he said. “Two new mechs…”

  Dash smiled. “Yes, they’re new mechs. And no, you’re not in shit—this time, anyway.”

  Amy joined Conover in peering at the schematics. After a moment, she giggled.

  Dash gave her a bemused look. “Okay, so what’s funny about a plan for a giant mech?”

  She pointed at the Pulsar. “Well, from this angle, if you look between its legs, it looks like it has a—”

  “Yeah, that’s fine,” Dash said, shaking his head. “I get where you’re going with that, which is…”

  His voice trailed off. Actually, from this angle, it did look like the mech had a—

  “Anyway,” he said, pulling his gaze away and putting it back on a grinning Amy. “I wanted to talk to you guys about these things. We’re planning on building them to augment our fleet. And we’re considering you two to pilot them.”

  The both looked stunned. Then Amy said, “Ooh, I call dibs on the one with the—”

  “That’s not how this works,” Dash said. “I’ve talked this over with Viktor—who’s actually given this a lot of thought himself, because he’s one who suggested you two—and with Leira, Custodian, Sentinel, and Tybalt. We’ve come to the conclusion that the lighter mech, the Talon, is a better fit with your personality, Amy. The bigger one, which is more about electronic warfare and tech, would work better with Conover.”

  “What about the Mako?” Conover asked, referring to their prototype atmospheric fighter with the big blast-cannon. “I thought I was tagged to fly that.”

  “We’ll find another pilot for that. You’re definitely a much better match with the Pulsar, the bigger mech.” Dash glanced at Amy. “Yes, the one that looks like it has a—you know.”

  She giggled.

  Conover turned his attention back to the schematic. He lifted a finger toward the Pulsar, then let it slowly drop. “Piloting this would be—” He nodded. “It would be—” He nodded again and looked at Dash. “I’ll come up with the right words eventually.”

  “It would be awesome,” Amy said. “That’s the word you’re looking for—awesome.” She clapped her hands. “When do we start?”

  “Not for a while yet,” Viktor said. “These mechs haven’t even been built yet.”

  “And we have to wait to get the Shroud up and running to make power cores for them,” Dash added.

  “In the meantime, however, I am conferring with Sentinel and Tybalt to determine which AI best suits your particular biophysical and personality profiles,” Custodian said. “Additionally, I will need to run each of you through a series of psychological tests. Once that is complete, I will activate your respective AIs and you can begin simulator training with them.”

  Amy grinned. “This is exciting!” But her grin faded some. “What about the Slipwing, though? Who’s going to pilot her?”

  “That would be me,” Viktor said.

  Amy gave him a surprised look. “I didn’t know you were a pilot.”

  “It’s how I started out. Once, long ago, I helmed a freighter, and then switched to a courier ship, flying it on behalf of its owners. They were cheap bastards, never wanted to spend the credits to fix anything, so I had to learn how to make things work and keep them working. When I met Leira, and she said she needed an engineer because she was too broke to keep things working, it gave me a chance to switch jobs—you know, become more my own man.”

  “I now know more about you than I think I ever did,” Conover said.

  Viktor smiled back at him. “We’re all books with unturned pages, aren’t we? Someday, I’d like to hear the story of how you got those eyes of yours.”

  “Actually, I’d like to know as well,” Dash said. “You’ve never told us.”

  “I have an incoming message from Al’Bijea,” Custodian cut in. “He says it is an emergency.”

  “Okay, hold that thought,” Dash said with a sigh. “Because it looks like it’ll have to wait for another time.”

  12

  “So you want us to essentially be bait for a trap,” Al’Bijea said.

  Dash looked at the oversized image of the Aquarian leader, projected into a window on the big display in the Command Center. Al’Bijea’s head stood at least two meters high, gazing at him like an oversized saint from the deep past. “That’s what it amounts to, yes.”

  The door opened, admitting Benzel and Wei-Ping. “Sorry about that,” Benzel said. “We got caught aboard the Herald. What’s up?”

  “Al’Bijea’s people have detected what seems to be a Verity strike force heading his way,” Dash said. “He’s got scout ships falling back ahead of them, maintaining contact and keeping them under observation.”

  “What he doesn’t have is heavy warships,” Leira put in. “The Aquarian ships are well-armed.”

  “Yeah, I remember that gamma-ray laser they used,” Wei-Ping added. “That thing was terrifying.”

  “And very effective,” Al’Bijea said. “But we only have a half dozen of them ready. We’ve also currently got the Comet, which you have upgraded and is back at the Ring for a crew rotation. But that’s about it. Based on the reports I’ve read of your encounters with them, none of our other ships are really capable of taking on the Verity head-on.”

  “So I’ve asked him to delay them as much as he can while we get a strike force of our own deployed,
” Dash said. He pointed at a particular region of space about a light-year from the Ring, one bordered by an expansive nebula. “If he can draw them into that area there, then we can use the nebula to come at them without being detected pretty much until we’re right on top of them.”

  “That would be the using the Aquarians as bait part of the plan, which is what we were discussing just as you came in,” Leira said.

  Benzel took a moment to study the star chart depicted beside Al’Bijea’s image, then turned and had a brief, hushed conversation with Wei-Ping. They both nodded and he turned back.

  “Okay,” he said. “We’ve already got the fleet broken down into two basic force packages, and they’ve been exercising together for a while now.” He glanced at Wei-Ping. “This would be a good chance, we think, to test them all at once.”

  “Use the whole fleet?” Dash asked. “Leave nothing here at the Forge?”

  “I think the Forge is pretty good at taking care of itself,” Wei-Ping said. “Custodian and I have been talking about defending this place, and I think we’ve concluded it's safe on its own for a while.”

  “I would concur,” Custodian said. “The Creators’ intent was that the Forge function in several capacities: manufacturing facility, habitation, base for military forces, and as an independent maneuver element.”

  “It’s meant to basically be a fleet all on its own,” Wei-Ping added.

  Dash looked back at the star chart. The Forge’s path along the axis of the galactic arm had brought it closer to inhabited space, including the Aquarian Ring system. The fleet would be, at most, a few hours translation time away.

  But a lot could happen in a few hours.

  Dash thought about the park Freya had built, and how it had made him think of the Forge as more than just a military installation, or a factory, but as what was becoming home. The idea of losing it was probably the most wrenching thing about this war, next to losing the war to the Golden entirely.