by L B Garrison
“What is this?”
“The threads are Rin’s base personality and the lights are her memories. When her experiences touch her personality, they reinforce it, or change it.”
Mandy navigated between the links, following a spiral path into the heart of the maze. All around, the sparks swirled and nestled into place among the glowing web strands. This was Rin in her raw form, all that she was. “I thought we would be right up against the deadline, but it’s happening so fast.”
“A fair parcel of your computing power is being used for this, so your thinking and sense of time are slowed. It’s been a half hour. Soon, they’re bound to notice the resources we’re using.”
“It couldn’t have been that long.” Mandy walked around a knotted red memory that twisted the threads nearby. Whatever had happened here, it had changed the shape of Rin’s personality.
“Ah, but it has. I’ve gotten the matter printers chugging out equipment and I’ve isolated the mind phage in the other ships, but this will take a bit to finish.”
An angry swarm of black specks filled the red memory. What could it be? Mandy swallowed, but it did nothing to help her parched throat. “She had a short, troubled life and I hate how it ended. Bailey, you may be the smartest person I’ve known in two lifetimes. If anyone can make this right, it’s you.”
Bailey snickered. “I’m relieved there’s no pressure.”
Mandy smiled. “It’s only one tiny planet at stake.” She reached out to the memory as if she could hold on to Rin a little longer.
“Mandy don’t—”
The darkness shattered.
Rin’s breaths were shallow as she gripped the edge of the exam table. Her stomach quivered as Tech Sergeant Walkowski meticulously stowed his instruments. When he turned his back, Rin slipped off the table and crept to the door.
“We’re not done,” The Sergeant said.
She swallowed. “I can’t today. Jazz-mir is expecting me on the target range and I’m late.”
He turned and smoothed his mustache with his thumb and forefinger. “She would understand, but of course we can’t tell her. Not every ship gets these special tests and we wouldn’t want the others to be jealous. They scarcely talk to you as it is. You don’t want them mad at you, do you?”
Rin’s breathing came faster. She couldn’t help it. Her heart beat so hard. “I just can’t today Sergeant. Jazz-mir hates tardiness, so I have to go. Dismiss me, Sergeant. Please.”
“Admiral Pillado wants me to examine you thoroughly. I don’t want to do this, but if I don’t, you could get in trouble with the Admiral. You don’t want that, do you?”
“No,” she whispered.
“Good.” He smiled. “Let’s see your summer outfit.”
She closed her eyes and morphed her uniform into the white camisole and cream-sickle shorts he had designed for her. The bottom of the camisole ended three inches above the top of the shorts, exposing a swath of tawny skin that always focused the Sergeant’s attention. She shivered as his clammy hands slid onto her shoulder.
“See that wasn’t so hard.” He rubbed his sweaty hands across her shoulders as he guided her back to the table. “Now the other one I like. You remember how to do that, don’t you?”
“Yes,” she whispered, though she could barely hear it herself. She changed her clothes into a honey-colored two-piece swimsuit. She actually liked the way the color looked against her skin, but not the way it made him look at her.
“I’m so proud of you.” He squeezed her arms and pulled her a little closer.
Rin’s breath caught in her throat. In the beginning the Sergeant had occasionally brushed against her, and later came the hands.
He turned back to his instruments and paused. “Do you know what a hug is?”
Jazz-mir hugged Rin all the time. The voice in Rin’s head whispered danger. “Yes, I know.”
He turned back to Rin. “Atropos can make her clothes disappear completely, but she’s more mature than you. I bet you couldn’t do that.”
“Atropos?” she asked. Atropos didn’t talk anymore. Not to anyone. Was this why?
“But she’s grown so distant now, not like you. Only a few girls get special attention. You are special, you understand that right? You keep to yourself and you know how to keep a secret. The techs are thinking of getting a group of the special girls together. There are some more tests we need to run on the modifications we’ve made. It’s important to know how much like a human you are.”
Rin was dizzy. “I have to go.”
“Wait—”
Shadows flowed and she was in the hall covering herself with her hands. No one walked the maintenance corridor. There was no one to see or to help. Rin morphed into her uniform and ran. She tried to hold the sobs in, tried to swallow them, but they wouldn’t stay down. This had been going on for weeks. Once, touching had been comforting and warm, but now that she was older, it sometimes felt wrong. She didn’t know why.
Stopping at a wash station, she gripped the edge of the sink and stared at her reflection. Her face was red and her eyes puffy. She hadn’t given him the chance to touch her as much today or wear the skimpier clothes, but in two day she would have to return for another checkup. What then?
Her hands reached out and the sink responded with warm water and suds. She washed her hands and her face. With a thought command, she made her uniform peel away from her shoulder and scrubbed until the skin turned pink. She was impervious, but it seemed like the feel and the smell of sweat lingered.
“Why did you run Rin?”
Rin spun around to find Tech Sergeant Walkowski towering over her. She willed her flight suit to cover her completely. “I told you I was late.”
“I told you we weren’t done.”
“Is there a problem?” a deep female voice asked.
Jazz-mir blocked the hallway behind Sergeant Walkowski. Rin ducked around the Sergeant and slipped behind Jazz-mir. She peeked out at the man, but his attention was fully on the adult ship.
Jazz-mir’s gaze turned to the sergeant. “I asked if there was a problem.”
He smiled. “No problem. Rin, I’ll see you in two days.”
“I want a different tech assigned. I don’t want to play,” Rin blurted. She put her hand over her mouth and hid behind Jazz-mir. The Sergeant would be mad and Rin didn’t want to see it.
“Play what?” Jazz-mir asked.
“I don’t know what she’s talking about,” he said.
Jazz-mir stroked Rin’s hair. “You’re trembling child. Why?”
He puffed up like a lizard and pushed his chin forward. “None of this is your business.”
Jazz-mir made a fist. “My girls are my business.”
He stepped towards Jazz-mir. “Are you threatening me? Are you? What would the Admiral think of that?”
“If the situation is as I believe, the Admiral would not want you taking advantage of a trillion-debit machine for your own pleasure. Physically, psychologically she’s still a child. As I understand human ethics, this makes the breach of trust more abhorrent.”
“You’re just machines,” he sneered. “You don’t think and you don’t feel. You just pretend to be human and follow orders. Well, I am giving you a level one priority order. Drop this. Don’t mention it again and I will see Rin in two days. Dismissed.”
Jazz-mir didn’t move. “Your order is not recognized.”
This was Rin’s fault. If only she had been quiet and cooperated. Disobeying a level one order was not allowed. Ship personalities were edited for less.
Rin shivered, like she had swallowed something bitter. She stepped out and stood beside Jazz-mir. “I’ll go with you Sergeant and do what you want.”
He smirked. “You see? It’s that easy.”
Rin’s eyes stung. Why did she always cry when she was upset? She hated this, but if something good could come of it, she could bare it.
“Let me take Atropos’ place,” Rin whispered.
“What’s thi
s about Atropos?” Jazz-mir stiffened. “She isn’t even assigned to you. Is that why she’s changed?”
“I gave you an order, Jazz-mir.”
“They didn’t come from me, but they are my children all the same and you are in grave danger.” Blue fire blazed around Jazz-mir’s fists.
She meant to kill him. Now there would be more blood on Rin’s hands and Jazz-mir’s too. Pillado would delete Jazz-mir for this.
In a dark flash, Rin skipped to stand between the adults and pressed her hands on Jazz-mir’s stomach, pushing back. Her hot tears darkened the deck. “No. Please. Not for us. Don’t do it for us!”
Mandy gasped and stumbled back as Bailey yanked her by the collar, ripping her out of the memory. They spilled across the hard emptiness that formed the floor.
“Mandy, it didn’t work.”
Mandy’s heart thumped with Rin’s fear. She pulled against Bailey’s grip, but here the skinny girl was as strong as she was. “We have to try again.”
“There’s nothing left to try. All the pieces are in place.”
The tiny moving images of Rin’s mind shimmered in the dark, like a tensile Christmas tree. If she was whole again, what was missing? “I have to talk to her. Tell her we need her. Tell her I miss her.”
Bailey let go of Mandy’s collar. “It’s been two hours, Mandy. I’m sorry, truly. But soldiers are on their way. All of us are out of time.”
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
W
ith a gasp, Mandy pitched forward in the chair.
Strong hands grabbed her shoulders and held her upright. Nausea tried to punch its way out of her stomach, while the color seeped back in the motor pool.
“Are you all right, Mandy?” a male voice asked.
Mandy blinked at brown eyes just inches from her face. “Cisco? Hey stranger.”
A smile touched his eyes. “Hey, yourself. Can’t leave you for a moment, can I?”
Mandy grinned. “Let that be a lesson to you.”
Bailey pulled a black framework with blue lights from her temples and lay it on the workbench. “The transition between a virtual body and your real one can be disorientating the first few times.”
A muted thump came from below. A T30 with its back hatch open occupied the once empty third bay. The Tridents worked together to load seamless white crates into the cargo hold.
Bailey leaned over the rail. “Here now, what did I say?”
“Use the utmost care,” the Tridents replied.
“Bloody well right.”
The queasiness grumbled and settled. Mandy sat up, slipping her hands over Cisco’s. “I think I can take it from here.”
Cisco stepped back to give her room. “Bailey told me you couldn’t revive Rin. I’m sorry. So, now what do we do?”
Bailey leaned her back against the railing, watching Mandy.
Mandy rested her hand on his shoulder for balance as she pulled herself out of the chair. “We go on. Bailey, do you have it?”
“Indeed. I’ve upgraded it, as well. It’s smart and adaptable, but also quite large. You’ll have one copy. One go at it.” Bailey opened her hand. A twisted knot of tentacles formed from ones and zeros wriggled in her palm. More than a virus, this was a malevolent intelligence that existed to destroy.
Cisco stared at the writhing digits with a frown. “What is it?”
Mandy held her hand out and Bailey dropped the squirming ball of cold equations into her palm. A chill crawled down her back. “It came from the girls. This is like the thing that killed Rin.”
Cisco’s eyes slid from the mind phage to Mandy. “It’s a weapon?”
Mandy closed her hand. The tentacles slithered through her fingers and across her skin like cold worms. “The Kinderen is a big brain made of little machines connected by quantum links, like the minds of the Mobius ships. This breaks those links.”
“You’ll have to get quite close,” Bailey said. “It won’t likely accept a transmission. Hence, you’ll have to touch it to transfer the mind phage.”
The three Trident girls finished loading and stood quietly behind Bailey, their eyes focused on the squiggly darkness. “Okay, you’re all packed.”
Mandy nodded. “You know what to do?”
Kolme saluted. “Yes, I’ll be waiting at the rally point to escort you into Artemis.”
Two teenagers, three machines that acted like children and one machine that thought it was alive, against the dominant galactic power. It would have to be enough.
Eins hugged Bailey tightly. “Thank you. I never told anyone, but the mind phage really scared me. And no human’s ever done so much for me.”
Bailey put an arm around Eins. “You are most welcome, love.”
Kolme shook Cisco’s hand. “We haven’t met, so no hugs for you.”
Bailey rubbed her fingers along Eins’ spine. “We’d best be off. The MPs are just a few miles away.”
Mandy took Cisco’s hand and led the way down the stairs. Holding hands was calming, but it could only last a moment. The door behind the T30 opened and cold night air rushed in. The Tridents waved good-bye and vanished in a puff of shadows.
Mandy slid onto the cold leather of the back seat with Bailey. The tires screeched as Cisco backed into the darkness. He turned out of the driveway and let the T30 take over. It pulled onto the tree-lined road and cruised deeper into the base.
“We’ll get further by being inconspicuous than we will with speed,” he said.
Bailey opened several multicolored displays of scrolling symbols. “I’ll modify the T30’s AI so they can’t track or shut us down remotely.”
Sirens blared behind them. Mandy and Bailey both peered over the back seat. Strobing red and yellow lights flickered through the forest as the road curved away. Just before the garage was lost behind the trees, several four-wheeled vehicles sped into the parking lot.
Bailey gripped the back of her seat and let out a ragged breath.
“Maybe our luck will hold,” Mandy said.
Bailey’s eyes locked on the flickering lights and shadowy woods behind them. “Possibly.”
Mandy watched the flashing lights through the trees, until they faded into the distance. The hum of the T30’s wheels on the wet road was the only sound. Fog formed on the windows.
“Where are we going?” Mandy asked.
Cisco dialed the heater up. “Airfield B. There are four wisps on the tarmac, charged and ready for takeoff. If Bailey can get us past the locks, I can fly us to Artemis.” He glanced at Bailey.
Bailey crossed her arms. “If? Oh, please.”
A blare of sirens sounded from up ahead. More red and yellow lights appeared over the hill. Mandy gripped her armrest and held her breath. Three security vehicles flashed by them, splashing the windows. Mandy put her hand on the cold glass and listened to the Doppler Effect drag the sirens’ pitch down as the vehicles passed. “Are we there yet?”
A screeching sound came from behind them. Mandy looked back. Headlights spun, flashing across the scarlet trees and reflecting off the wet road.
“Our jig is up,” Bailey said.
Cisco grabbed the steering wheel and took control. The T30 skidded on the wet pavement and accelerated. The security vehicles jockeyed for position. They were gaining.
The T30 hydroplaned as it slid around a tight curve. Mandy gripped the seat. Cisco kept them on the road easily with a few turns of the wheel. The cargo boxes shifted, but the stretchy netting kept them in place.
Bailey kept watching the cargo hold, where flashing lights cast flickering shadows. At first Mandy thought she was watching the pursuers, but it was the cargo that Bailey was fixated on.
“Bailey, what’s wrong?” Mandy asked.
“Nothing’s amiss. Everything will probably be fine.”
“We’re coming up on the airfield barrier,” Cisco said.
A glossy membrane billowed in the wind. It shimmered in the headlights and extended across their path. Reflective poles topped with green lights sto
od on each side of the road. The pursuers were just a thousand feet behind.
“Cisco,” Bailey shouted.
“I see it,” he said.
Mandy pulled up and rested her chin on the back of Cisco’s seat. The lights on the poles blinked red. “What does that mean?”
Cisco slowed. “The security membrane is active. It’ll dissolve the T30 if we try to cross.”
Mandy flexed her hands open and closed a couple of times. The plasma bolt. She had seen Rin do it, but never done it on her own. Not on purpose at least. There was no time for doubt. She rolled her window down.
“Mandy?” Bailey asked.
“We aren’t stopping at the first thing that gets in our way. Keep driving Cisco.”
Mandy’s heart beat so hard that she was sure the others must hear it. Grabbing the upper window frame, she flipped onto the roof of the T30. Standing on the slick metal required her to shift her weight every few milliseconds. The rain stung and the cold wind whipped her hair. They had almost reached the membrane. Cisco accelerated. He must actually trust her. She would not let them down.
Her hands shook as she brought them up. Blue sparks arced between her fingers. She grit her teeth. “Come on you dumb girl.”
Light flared. Random possibilities exploded from Mandy’s palm, annihilating the membrane. As soon as the T30 bolted past the gateway, the membrane resealed. Their pursuers slid on the wet road as they tried to stop.
“Yeah!” Mandy squealed and punched the air, then had to shift her weight as they slid around another tight curve. The road angled upward. Sirens shrieked behind them again and lights flickered through the trees. The road leveled out. A vast black space opened to the right, connected to the road by a series of off-ramps. Cisco took the second exit and raced onto the glossy black field.
Mandy was grateful to climb back into the warm T30. She rolled the window up and shivered.
Bailey patted her on the back. “Good job.”
Mandy tried to smile, but her teeth chattered. Other red and yellow lights were rushing toward them from across the field.
“We won’t have long,” Cisco said. "Bailey, you start on the lock as soon as I stop. We’ll get the cargo.”