My eyes met Zyla’s.
“System map on the screen, Cass,” I said.
She lowered a transparent vid-screen from the gel ceiling and placed a local system map on it.
“Show us Ceres Alpha and Gamma Cephei and then pull out.”
She complied. “What are we looking for?” she whispered secretively.
I stood up and pointed to the trajectory the drones should have taken from the Belt through the Ceres A system and onto the Gamma Cephei system and then onward to the next system which would take the drones closer to Zenthia Actual.
“Herculis B,” I said. “Find us anything, anything at all pertaining to Herculis B, Cassi.”
“Searching.”
Zy started tapping her fingernails on the gel table. The table rippled, and Cassi let out a little giggle.
“That tickles, Zyla,” she said.
“You must be almost fully integrated with the Base,” I offered.
“Yep. Just rearranging things and organising my nicknacks.”
I looked toward where the Harpy II was attached to the docking hatch. It was our only way off this rock and leaving Cassi behind again…I wasn’t sure I could do it.
Allowing her to merge with the compromised corvette, however, was an unsettling thought and one I didn’t wish to pursue just yet.
“Got something!” Cassi announced. “Oh, bummer. The drones made it to Herculis B like you said, boss. Massive nuclear detonations on the surface. Minimal survivors.”
Everyone was silent for a long time after that.
“What’s going on?” Marvin finally asked. “What does that mean?”
“It means we’re fluxed,” Odo said. “The Zeniths are trying to wipe themselves out, and once they’re done, guess who’s next?”
Zyla hadn’t divulged her theories to Odo yet.
“Mal is farther away in the galaxy,” Marvin told him, pointing at the path the drones were taking. “If this is automated, we won’t be next.”
“Good for you, chum,” Odo growled back. “New Earth’s not as far out as that.”
“They’d hit Rhodia first,” Cassi helpfully offered, showing us the projected path of the attack drones from the Belt.
I cleared my throat to interrupt the pointless conversation. “Cass, could a signal reach the drones that far in from the Belt?” I asked.
“Good question,” Cassi replied. “I would have said ‘no’, but a definitive answer requires more assessment. I need to compile data.”
“We need that data stack,” Zy said, ignoring Odo and Marvin’s confused looks. “Until we can produce definitive evidence that the signal is coming from beyond the Belt, no one will listen to us.”
Odo and Marvin stared at her.
I sat forward in my seat and said, “Cass, any luck on finding that data stack?”
“Negative. But I am on it, I promise.”
I nodded my head.
“What’s going on, Cap’n?” Odo asked. “The Belt?” He looked toward Zyla; I could see disappointment in his gaze. He didn’t like being left out; along with our Mutt crew member.
“My cousins intercepted a signal from beyond the Belt,” Zyla said. “It went to one of the drones just prior to the orbital bombardment on Ceres Alpha.”
Odo whistled. “Have the Zeniths found a way through, then?”
Zy met my eyes and then looked back at Odo. She shook her head.
“Has someone else?” he asked carefully.
“We don’t think so,” I said.
“So, you mean…?” Odo said, but it was Marvin who beat him to the answer.
“Aliens? A new species?”
“Yes,” I said with a heavy breath.
“Aliens,” Cass repeated, sounding awed. “Sweet! First Contact Protocol being unpacked right now.”
“Find that data stack,” I said.
“Yes. Yes. You are aware I can do more than one thing at once, right?”
I said nothing, just looked around the table at my crew.
“Until we find that data stack, there’s not much we can do,” I said. “Odo, if you need help with the Base’s engineering use Marvin. Under supervision only.”
Odo eyed the Mutt warily and grunted his consent. Marvin, for his part, just crossed his beefy arms over his chest and scowled back at the engineer.
“Zy, I want you on the Harpy II. See what you can uncover that could flux us if we have to get off here in a hurry.”
“I can help with that,” Cass offered.
“I thought you wanted to stay well clear of the…and I quote, ‘hunk of junk’.”
“Not a direct link,” she countered. “Not yet. But I do have ways to assess systems remotely without compromising my own systems in the end. How do you think I knew it was a hunk of junk?”
I looked toward Zyla. She looked impassively back at me; no indication of whether she thought allowing Cassi access to the ship was a good idea or not.
“We’ll let Zyla try alone first,” I finally said.
Odo’s eyes snapped to my face.
“As you wish,” Cassi said primly.
I wanted to apologise. I wanted to soothe Cassi’s ruffled feathers. I did neither. I stood up, nodded to the crew, and left the mess.
Then I went to my berth and shut the door behind me.
“Activate Protection Protocol; Jameson, K, beta-charlie-foxtrot-9-9-3.”
A beep sounded from the comm panel. There would be no computerised voice to tell me it had been done. No AI was operating within the confines of my berth now; it had been completely isolated from the Base. I could last about half an hour in here before the temp dropped too much to be comfortable. Air would last a while longer, but by the time I ran out of that, I’d be a popsicle.
I sat down at my terminal and entered a command from memory. One I hadn’t used in close to six long years.
The light flashed red on the comm panel and then finally switched to green after several heart palpitating seconds.
Over the speakers, a voice I remembered from my childhood and well into my military career, said, “I wondered when you’d get in touch, son.”
“Great-Grandfather,” I said.
Chapter Sixteen
“I’ve told you before,” my great-grandfather’s voice said, “call me John.”
John Jameson had been the captain of the AUS Pavo flying out of Sector Two on Old Earth. His vessel had been the second to flee the dying solar system. And his efforts to ensure his Sector Fleet’s survival are now part of humanity’s history.
I was proud to call him my great-grandfather.
He was also long dead.
“You know how I feel about that,” I told my ancestor’s avatar. “It’s disrespectful.”
“Bullshit,” he said. “I’ll tell you what’s disrespectful: calling me great-anything; that’s what’s disrespectful. I haven’t aged in two centuries; I’ll have you know.”
And he wouldn’t age in two more. He was a hologram. Which is different from a synth. But equally as believable if you didn’t know any better. When he walked in sunlight, he cast a shadow. But your hand could pass right through him.
Amazing tech.
He was also a prototype that never went into full production.
The amalgamation of his memories, experiences, and character traits, he was almost the real deal. At least, that’s what Pavo said. And he knew him the best.
But upon being woken after his death, my great-grandfather shut down the programme. ‘No one wants to live forever,’ he’d said. I thought it was more to do with the fact that his wife had passed on before the technology was made possible and he didn’t want anyone else to suffer that kind of loss and regret.
And yet, despite that decision, here we were, two centuries later; John Jameson very much a part of New Earth’s government. A secretive part, but still there. He would never give up on humanity; it was as much a part of him as his memories and experiences were.
“It’s good to hear your voi
ce,” I said.
“Been a while. You went off-grid. Took me some time to locate you and I had to call in the Big Guns to achieve it.”
“Pavo?”
“Corvus.” I grimaced. “She is not happy with you, son. Why’d you go and steal Cassiopeia?”
“I couldn’t leave her here. Alone.”
He said nothing.
“Listen,” I said, getting us back on track. I’d deal with Corvus when and if I had to. “Things are getting hot out here. Those drone attacks on Ceres Alpha, Gamma Cephei and Herculis B? They weren’t done by either Zenthian faction.”
“No shit! You got proof to support that?”
“Possibly. It’s inside Cass, and she’s still redecorating.”
“Unpacking can take time,” he agreed. “But you have to know, word is Zenthia is breaking apart. The ZNA is accusing the High Council of mass murder. The High Council is throwing it back in the ZNA’s face. It’s turned nasty. No one thought a civil war wasn’t possible, but we all thought it would take a few more years. The High Council isn’t ready, and they’ve done what they tend to do when they have an internal problem; shut everyone out. Zenthia’s a no-fly zone. Whatever you do, don’t go there.”
I smirked. “Been there. Done that.”
“Aw, shit, really? Did they identify you?”
The smirk disappeared.
“Kael, if they think we have anything, I mean anything at all to do with those drone attacks, they’ll declare war on us, too.”
“While dealing with a civil war? I doubt that.”
“Don’t underestimate their pride. They will put national identity before everything else, even internal conflicts.”
“They had my navigator in a secret prison and were torturing her to death.”
A pause, and then, “Which side?”
“ZNA.”
“Why?”
“They thought she was involved in the drone attack on Ceres A. She was there when it happened and intercepted a signal sent to one of the drones.”
“Shit. That’d do it.”
“Gramps,” I said. “The signal came from beyond the Belt.”
“Impossible.”
“Not according to the evidence.”
“Evidence which is lost inside Cassiopeia’s packing crates.”
“Yeah, well, she’ll find it.”
“But probably not in time.”
I sighed and scrubbed my face.
Gramps sighed, too.
“OK,” he finally said. “At least we know to expect some fallout. I’ll try to get on top of it this end. Maybe the Zenthian Embassy will accept a gift basket or something. You get Cassi on the evidence.”
“Already on it.”
“And Kael?”
“Yeah.”
“Good to hear from you, son. The door is always open.”
“You know I won’t come back.”
“If we’re at war, you may have no choice but to come back.”
I said nothing, and then the comm went dead.
“Deactivate Protection Protocol; Jameson, K, beta-charlie-foxtrot-9-9-3.”
Warm air started to filter through the vents again, and I realised I was chilled to the bone. My teeth started chattering. I rubbed at my arms and stood up, then made my way to the head. A hot shower would return some feeling and allow me a moment of alone time to think about our next step.
We really needed that evidence. There was only so much diplomacy Gramps could manage back on New Earth. And if the Zenthians kept blaming each other for those drone attacks, they wouldn’t see the next hit coming; they’d be looking in the wrong direction.
What a nightmare.
“Cass,” I said as I made my way to the showers. “What’s the next likely location for the drones to hit?”
“Oh, you’re back,” she said accusingly.
“You know I have to follow protocol when I contact Gramps.”
“You could have warned me; I’ve only just got you back.”
“I thought you’d be too busy to notice,” I admitted.
“Yeah, sure you did.”
I tried not to roll my eyes as I stepped into the shower stall.
“The next planet likely to be hit, Cass?” I reminded her. “And ETA to drone strike.”
“Standby, Captain.”
I was in the dog box. I could hardly blame her. But that didn’t make it any easier. I had to be careful. Too much was at stake to flux it up.
The shower slowly heated me up, and the water helped clear my head. I could feel a low-level tremor in my extremities; too much stimulant. It’d be best to steer clear of coffee.
I scrubbed up, rinsed off, and stepped out from under the spray. Then grabbed some clean fatigues and donned them. Presentable once again, I headed toward the guts of the Base.
“How’s that answer coming, Cass?” I asked.
“Oh, alright. I forgive you. Pi Mensae, in thirty-six hours.”
My steps slowed. “Population count?”
“Twenty-three million, boss.”
The closer to Zenthia Actual the drones got, the larger the population mass.
“Flux,” I said.
“I can send them a warning,” Cass suggested.
“They won’t heed it, and even if they do, they’ll think it’s a New Earth strategy to get the population panicked.”
“Why would New Earth do that?”
“Why would anyone take out twenty-three million in a drone attack? There are no good answers right now, but there’s gonna be a hell of a lot of questions. We don’t want to get in the middle of that.”
“So, we let twenty-three million beings perish without lifting a finger?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Then what are you saying, Kael?”
I walked into what constituted engineering on the Base.
Marvin was leaning over a tool kit, handing tools to Odo as he lay on his back, partially inside another conduit.
“Hey,” I said, announcing myself.
“Captain,” Marvin offered, handing Odo a tool.
“Cap’n,” Odo said, from inside the conduit. “Everything looks good in here. I’m not sure why you wanted us to have another look. This is state-of-the-art New Earth construction; it’ll last a century or more without interference.” He slid out and looked up at me.
I nodded and turned my attention to Marvin.
“How safe are we using the Harpy II?”
Odo sat up and started cleaning his hands. He’d have figured out now that I was keeping Marvin off the ship and had used him as the Mutt’s babysitter.
I was grateful he didn’t say anything; Odo could blow a gasket when he felt the action justified.
“I…I’m not sure,” Marvin said.
“Your father sabotaged it, so it would make sense for us to return to Chi Virginis and nowhere else,” I said. “He either thought we’d try to ditch you and flee or he knew you would persuade us to take you elsewhere.”
Marvin said nothing.
“It doesn’t much matter which it is,” I told him. “Bottom line though, the Harpy II is compromised and it’s our only ship. You know your dad best. Can we circumvent all his efforts and use that ship safely?”
“I’d have to take a look at it,” the Mutt finally said.
I’d been afraid of that.
“Pack up your tools, Odo. Let’s go look at the H2,” I said.
I turned on my heel and stalked out of the machine room.
“I can help,” Cassi said as I walked down the corridor.
“I know,” I replied.
“Then let me take a look. I’ll stay isolated. It’ll be safe. I promise.”
Safe for whom?
“Find that data stack, Cassi,” I said, and stepped into the docking tunnel.
“You know, Kael,” she said softly, “sooner or later, you’re going to have to decide whether you can trust me or not.”
“He trusts you, Cass,” Odo said from behind me. “Do
n’t you, Cap?”
“Find that data stack, Cassi,” I repeated, “and then we’ll talk.”
I stepped through the hatch onto the Harpy II and stood to one side. Marvin followed me through, and then Odo ducked past, staring daggers at me. I shut the hatch.
“Captain,” Odo said, sounding outraged.
“Do you know how long I’ve known Cassiopeia, Odo?” I said. I didn’t let him answer me. “Four decades.”
He blinked; shocked.
“I’m older than I look,” I said, self-deprecatingly. “In all of those four decades, I’ve seen Cassi unpack herself after a data transfer twice. But twice is enough. I know she can organise her vast data stores in minutes, not hours. I know she can rearrange the furniture and calculate the answer to the universe in a fraction longer than that. I know exactly what she is and what she is capable of.”
I stepped forward and placed myself well within his personal space.
“And what Cassi is not capable of is deception,” I whispered. “If Zy’s data stack is in Cassi’s memory banks, then she’d already know it. And if it weren’t, then she’d have said so.” I pointed back toward the Base. “That is not the Cassi I know.”
Odo swallowed thickly and nodded his head. It was stiff and jerky, but it was an acknowledgement of what I’d said.
I turned to walk away, but he stopped me with his next words.
“I know her too, Captain.” I stopped and didn’t look back, just waited. “I know what we meant to each other, and nothing’s changed.” I wasn’t sure what that meant. The first bit. Not the second bit. I still said nothing, but I did look back at my engineer. “You can’t fake affection like that.”
I suddenly felt uncomfortable. I held my ground, though, because Odo wasn’t finished.
“And I know something else,” he said. “We can’t do this without her.”
“You’re an excellent engineer…” I started.
He waved that away.
“I mean fight whatever’s coming,” he said. “Not the ship; we can sort that out given time.” We didn’t have time, but I didn’t correct him. “Those aliens from beyond the Belt. We know next to nothing about them, other than they can navigate their way through the Belt when our known allies’ best navigators can’t. So, you tell me, Cap: can we fight them without Cassi’s help?”
Absolute Zero (The Sector Wars, Book 1) Page 18