Cole shrugged. This conversation was above him, but something about CAIN’s response to the update troubled him. “Is it possible he’s purposely disobeying?”
“Nonsense,” Forester said, clearly annoyed with the continuation of the conversation.
“Why?” Cole asked. “Doc said it herself; Cain’s self-aware.”
CAIN concurred.
Cole gestured toward the console as though the AI’s comment validated his claim.
“There’s a wide gap between stating and showcasing,” Forester said, unimpressed.
All eyes faced the main viewport and gazed upon the approaching station. The Interstellar Gateway was a massive ring-like hub, capable of encircling all manner and sizes of vessels. It was the final border checkpoint before ships could jump legally. An inspection was imminent for the ICV-71 and her precious cargo.
They docked with the hub, and Cole returned automation back to CAIN. He knew any company inspectors sweeping the ship would check to make sure that all was structurally sound, cargo was appropriately listed, and navigation controls were free of corruption. He gambled that Lin’s scan of CAIN’s software would list as clear. He also hoped that the corporate bigwigs notified the gateway to go easy on this particular run.
“Dammit,” Cole said, slouching in his chair. So much for smooth sailing.
“Did you actually believe SolEx would overlook us because of the nature of our trip?” Forester asked, reading Cole’s mind exactly. He continued without waiting for an answer. “We will abide by all codes of conduct.”
“You must’ve had a really dull childhood, Arthur,” Cole said, staring up at the ceiling. When he did not receive a response, he looked back to see the director smiling, a hint of a mischief in his cold gray eyes. He raised his brow and turned to Lin, but she was staring at her hands folded in her lap.
“What?” Cole said, sitting up straight. “That doesn’t make any sense. Since when do gateway inspectors allow additional cargo?” He frowned when no one answered. “You know anything about this?” He asked Forester.
“I am aware, yes.”
Cole’s frown deepened as he turned back toward the director. “You could’ve informed me. I know I’m just a lowly backup pilot to you, but I take this job seriously.” He sighed, frustrated. And why is there additional cargo being added at our jump point? He wondered.
“Cain,” Cole said, a thought occurring to him. “Give me a detailed account of our new cargo.”
“Must you?” Forester asked, perturbed. “Our inspector will be with us presently.
“Yeah, and I’d like to know what was stowed away before I question him about it.” Cole’s eyes focused on the image projected on the viewport. “ ‘Classified’ ?” He shook his head, confused. “That will never fly with Customs. Give me a detailed visual of the Cargo Bay, Cain.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Forester said, his tone even.
All attention turned to the lone figure stepping out of the lift. He was not a “he” at all. A tall, lean middle-aged woman made her way toward the trio with an imposing militaristic cadence. Much like Forester, the inspector was clean-cut and all business. There was no warmth in those cold, penetrating eyes that settled upon Cole.
“Captain Musgrave, I presume,” she said, her voice softer than Cole had expected. That made him nervous.
“Yes,” he said, standing.
“I am Inspector Emmerich,” she said, not slowing her advance. When she was a few paces from him, she drew her sidearm and pointed it directly at his face. “I am taking command of this ship.”
4 - RADICALS
“I believe you heard me, Captain,” Inspector Emmerich said in a grave tone.
In one fluid motion, Cole’s reflexes had him lunging toward Inspector Emmerich, swatting away her weapon with his hand, latching onto her arm with the other, and dislocating her shoulder. Her sharp cry was silenced as she was flipped face-first onto the bridge floor. He kept her pinned there, ignoring her grunts.
“Cain!” Cole shouted. “Activate Lockdown! We have an attempted hijacking in progress! Alert security on the Gateway!” He shoved his knee into the inspector’s back to keep her from struggling free.
Cole’s stomach flipped, and he broke out in a cold sweat. He gawked at the console, unable to speak. That was when he felt something cold and unyielding press into the back of his skull. He went as still as a cadaver, his eyes the only part of him able to function. He saw a forlorn Lin, and Forester’s empty chair.
“No one can hear you, Musgrave,” the director said, pressing the muzzle of the weapon painfully tight against his head. “I suggest you remove yourself from Inspector Emmerich before I do something I’ll regret.”
“What are you doing?” Cole asked, his voice strangely calm.
“I’m telling you to step away from my associate,” Forester said, his tone hard. “I won’t ask you again.”
I can take him out, Cole thought, weighing his options. He relaxed his vice grip on the inspector, but before he could enact a second heroic feat, Emmerich—dislocated shoulder and all—jumped far too quickly to her feet for someone in her fifties, and brought her elbow down upon the back of Cole’s neck. He dropped, his world blurry.
The inspector wiped her hand across her face, her palm coming away with blood. She set her broken nose with a wince and walked over to the wall into which she promptly slammed her shoulder, popping it back into place. She swore loudly and clenched her fists.
“You won’t be swimming for a few months,” Cole said, stumbling to his feet. His vision swam, and his body moved as though in quicksand. Not optimal for dodging plastol bursts.
Emmerich advanced on Cole to even the score, but a quick, high-pitched sound akin to stone striking steel stopped her cold. A bright smoldering burn mark separated them, and the inspector rounded on Forester with murder in her eyes.
“Thanks, Cain,” Cole mocked, dropping to one knee and rubbing his neck. “That report ought to come in handy. Never mind we’re being internally hijacked.”
“We need him unmolested,” Forester said to Emmerich. “The AI is not functioning properly,” he added in a quieter voice, and the inspector glowered at Lin.
“I could really use a stiff massage....”
“Shut. Your. Mouth!” Emmerich’s voice was a thunderclap. In the ensuing silence, she composed herself as best she could. Dried blood remained in her nostril, a dark bruise already settling in the tissue. She ran a tense hand through her short-cropped silver hair and straightened her back and shoulders with another cringe. A deep breath relaxed her taut face, and a shred of calm dignity seemed to return to her battered exterior.
She turned toward Forester and reclaimed the sidearm. When she faced Cole, she kept a couple extra steps distance from him, her weapon lowered. “I misjudged you, Captain,” She said, her voice stuffy thanks to Cole’s takedown. “It was a mistake to point my sidearm at you.” She shook her head. “Never underestimate a soldier, no matter how many years removed they are from service.” The last statement was directed more toward herself.
Cole opened his mouth to speak, but Emmerich shook her head in warning. He closed his mouth, though he wondered if he was in any real danger after what Forester had said. Instead he sat back and continued to rub the base of his neck, hoping for s
ome sort of elaboration. He was not left disappointed.
“This situation isn’t ideal, but we had no other choice,” Emmerich said. “You were chosen for a reason.”
Cole frowned. Chosen? Chosen to aid a couple of terrorists? I really need to update my resume. He looked past both Forester and Emmerich to where Lin still sat in the co-pilot chair, facing away, her head down. He wondered whether or not she a willing part of the coup.
“Why?”
Emmerich stared hard at him before speaking. “Your brother is a notorious criminal, your parents are both deceased, and you have a checkered past with the United System Starforce.”
Cole shrugged. “Yeah, that’s pretty accurate.”
“I also served under your mother,” she said wryly.
“That’s unfortunate,” Cole said, shaking his head and immediately regretting doing so. “That explains your attitude, and this,” he gestured around him, “cockamamie coup.”
“You’re hardly one to talk, Musgrave,” Emmerich replied. Before Cole could reply, she added, “A coup this may be, but it is in your best interest to hear me out before you attempt another unnecessary rescue.”
“ ‘My best interest’ ?” Cole repeated, the words foul tasting in his mouth. “How does a gun in my face, the hijacking of a company prototype vessel, and your pending blackmail speech benefit me?”
“Who said anything about our mission benefitting you?” Emmerich asked, walking in a circle around Cole. “Make no mistake, Musgrave, you have no room for negotiation in this venture.” She stopped. “But I can promise you that we will all come away from this unscathed—perhaps even as heroes—when you lend us your specialized services.”
We? Cole’s head was throbbing now. “Look. What makes any of you people think you’ll be able to complete your mission—whatever that is—let alone undock from the Gateway without alerting all of SolEx security?”
Emmerich gave a steely smile. “You forget my position.” She indicated her uniform. “The ICV-71 passed inspection, and I’ve cleared us for launch. No one will question me since this particular vessel is a prototype on its maiden voyage.”
Oh.
“Our Director of Operations is reputed amongst his colleagues and is expected to present at Terracom 3. My Senior Engineer for the CAIN project is the pride of the company.” She indicated Lin and Forester while keeping her attention on Cole. “We are respectable, upstanding members of Solar System Express.”
Cole nodded, resting his arms on his knees. “And I’m a smart-mouthed, brown-nosing, dishonorably discharged Starforce pilot with a gangster brother.” His mouth twisted. “My word against yours...and whatever else you have hanging over my head I don’t know about.”
Emmerich nodded.
Cole took a deep breath, tapping his kneecaps like drums. Then a realization struck him. “What exactly are we delivering?”
“A bomb,” Forester said.
Cole’s gaze shifted between the two of them. “So, you’re terrorists.”
Emmerich scowled at the term. “And Terracom is a philanthropic corporation ‘Harvesting New Worlds’ for the greater good.” She spat on the floor. “We are rebels, if you must put a label to us and our cause.”
Radicals, more like it, Cole thought, starting to understand. Terracom was an abhorrent entity, but he never would have thought anyone—especially people in the corporate sector—with so much to lose—would throw away their lives for such a futile cause.
“What are you looking to take out with your bomb?”
“Their Terraport.”
That’s suicide, Cole thought, flabbergasted. We have a better chance of colonizing the Sun. “If I refuse, you kill me. If I help you succeed, I’ll be blamed. If I fail, I’ll be blamed.” He laughed in spite himself. “There’s no upside for me.” He sat up straighter. “What’s to stop me from risking dropping you a second time?”
“That won’t happen again.” Emmerich waved her sidearm for him to see. “I will shoot you if I must, but I’d rather not.” She cleared her throat. “When you help us succeed, our cargo will detonate remotely after we leave. There will be no evidence, as Dr. Dartmouth has seen to such issues already. Years will pass before Terracom is able to sort through the wreckage. All of us will return to our current positions...including you.” She paused, seeming to consider her next words. “If you serve our cause well, I may even consider suggesting a reinstatement of your application for Uncharted with NASA.”
Who is this woman? Cole wondered, amazed his insignificance had been unearthed after his time in Starforce nearly fifteen years ago. Guess you can’t erase all your past mistakes. “How do you know so much about me?”
Emmerich smirked.
Black Dwarf, Cole considered with a shudder. Not even he could sever ties with them.
“I don’t suppose you’ll give me a chance to try and change your mind, will you?” The ice returned to her eyes, and Cole knew he had to tread lightly. “You’re all fucking crazy!” Whoops! Never was much for finesse. “This is Terracom you’re looking to screw over. Terracom! You know, the System’s only known legal crime syndicate operating in public view. Everyone’s favorite slave traffickers.” He scratched under his chin and looked up in feigned contemplation. “The same organization that influences all five levels of our lovely AMBER government....”
Emmerich held up a silencing hand, though she seemed calm and collected. “You just gave me all the reasons why we shouldn’t change our minds.”
Cole clenched his hands, his gloves creaking in the silence. There would be no persuading Emmerich. Whatever anger she harbored ran deep and would not be quenched until blood was spilt. Forester seemed to be in league with the inspector, though Lin—despite her obvious involvement—seemed the hasty conclusion of the three. Unfortunately, she appeared to be third in command. And CAIN was under the protocol spell. That left him with only one option: submission.
Well, at least I’ll get to see Cygnus before I die. Cole breathed a deep, defeated sigh and met Emmerich’s confident regard. “What do you need me to do?”
5- CAPACITOR
Cole’s return to interstellar travel was far less enjoyable than he had hoped it would be, his company was even less so. Despite his grim predicament, his wanderlust managed to distract him from the dread deed of which he was to be a part. The adrenaline rush of the Dark Matter Processor deconstructing and catapulting life through the vast reaches of space and time never grew old, and Cole couldn’t help but believe that he was somehow being reborn at the other end of the spectrum.
Maybe I am. He took some solace from the thought.
The ICV-71 completed its interstellar jump with ease and flair. The wormhole closed and faded behind them, leaving a 1,400 light-year gap between them and most of mankind. Terracom 3, Earth’s distant and slightly larger exoplanet cousin, came into view, inviting them to explore its partially terraformed surface. Cole wanted nothing more than to do just that, and his “obligation” nearly had him jerk the controls toward the planet and call Emmerich’s bluff.
The Terraport was a titan of a space station, capable of housing a few thousand workers and colonists. Orbiting the evolving planet, the port acted as both a satellite generator and command center for the mega-corporation’s several terraformers stationed below. There was a myriad of activity all around it, ships constantly leaving for the surface and returning to the port. Cole knew the occasional shuttle would be bringing volunteers as well. He was surprised one had not followed the ICV-71 shortly after arrival.
“You don’t have to connect the capacitor to the generator,” Cole said to the others, his attention on the viewport. “We can still make a normal delivery and call it a day. No one has to know about any of this.”
“Take us to the dock, Captain,” Emmerich said, nodding toward the Terraport.
Cole sighed. It was worth a try, he thought, keeping surprisingly calm.
CAIN announ
ced.
“Only two, eh? Must be expecting us,” Cole said, searching for the heralds. “We’d be dead already if we didn’t have that wonderful logo digitized on the hull.”
Emmerich rested her arms on the back of Cole’s chair. “Had some previous experience I don’t know about?”
Not everything about my life is on Ocunet. “Knowledge is power, Inspector. I’m an avid reader when I’m not spreading terror throughout the galaxy.”
Emmerich chuckled, though it was devoid of mirth.
“I’ve read enough to know not to piss these guys off.” Cole locked onto their point of destination, and sat back. “The very thing we’re about to do.”
“For a test pilot, you certainly have many reservations,” Forester said, impassive. “You learned our aim. This has been in the making for some time. Do you not think we have considered all the possibilities?”
Cole shrugged. “I’m sure you think you have, Art, but—well, you know.” He indicated the Terraport.
“We also have our AI backup,” Emmerich added, though she didn’t sound convinced.
“Yeah, Cain worked a lot better before I was tricked into allowing him to be injected with that protocol update,” Cole said, gazing at the green light in the center of the console. “Now he’s obedient and incapable of piloting this ship.”
Emmerich sighed. “I have considerable faith Dr. Dartmouth will uncover the root of this minor issue.” Again, she did not seemed convinced by her own words.
Cole looked for the engineer but saw that she must have retreated to the recreation room further back.Can’t imagine she’s doing any fixing from there.
As the Terraport slowly drew the ICV-71 toward its fate, Cole’s mind drifted to a place he had not visited since his time in the service. A place that brought him both comfort and terror. The very same place which eventually led to his discharge. He likened his unusual state of consciousness to a sort of primal defensive Zen brought on by extreme circumstances. He was certain there was a medical diagnosis for his “condition,” but that would have required him to visit a doctor, and he would never willingly allow that to happen. He called it his “Corner,” and he had been backed into it against his will.
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