by Mark Wandrey
Minu’s suit had less than two hours of life support left when she flew through the door into the shuttle, Aaron right behind, and the door slid closed, pressurizing the crew compartment.
“I’m never going to get used to pissing my pants in space,” Aaron grumbled as he pulled the hood off with a grateful sigh.
“The suit absorbs it.”
“I can still smell the piss,” he insisted.
Minu didn’t feel like reminding him that there were far worse things to smell in your suit.
“I wouldn’t have minded if the entire operation wasn’t a bust.”
“It wasn’t a complete loss,” Minu complained. She didn’t agree with him, not completely.
“It almost doesn’t make sense that there were no fighters on the carrier at all,” Aaron complained.
“Lilith thinks the carriers burned through all their complement on the battles leading up to their being disabled.” Minu stowed the components of the suit and clambered into the copilot seat. “Lilith, how’s your sister?”
“She is extremely unhappy,” Lilith replied. Minu could hear screaming over the transmitter. She hurt in ways she didn’t know she could.
“Bakook, is your team okay?”
“We are boarding our shuttles,” came the grumbling reply.
“I need to go, we’ll meet at 08:00 ship time tomorrow on the Kaatan to discuss what we’ve found.” She turned to her husband. “Get me back to our baby.”
A short time later Minu walked through the door into her private cabin she shared with Aaron and into a wall of anguish and anger put out by one Mindy Groves. Lilith floated there, Mindy in her arms, rocking her back and forth and making shushing sounds. Her eyes were wide in consternation. As Minu walked in she looked up with an expression of mixed relief and horror. Minu didn’t know if she wanted to cry or laugh.
“I am… glad you are here,” Lilith said over the caterwauling. She unceremoniously held out Mindy for Minu to take.
Minu accepted her daughter, unlatching her uniform front and sitting on her bed. At the sight of Minu’s breast Mindy coughed, gasped a few times and latched on. It took her almost an entire minute to wind down and seriously begin nursing.
“I… it was overwhelming,” Lilith admitted.
“Why didn’t you say something?”
“I thought I could handle it.”
Minu looked at her older daughter. Lilith hair was a little wild looking and she had a dazed look on her face. “Maybe you should go get some rest.”
“That would be a good idea,” Lilith admitted and she swam out of the compartment.
“I think motherhood might be a long way off for our oldest,” Aaron said.
“She’d need to be interested in boys first.”
“Not with this ship,” Minu reminded him. The look of horror on his face told her that he hadn’t considered that possibility.
“Maybe she should babysit more often.”
Minu chuckled and watched as the still red faced infant fed voraciously.
“I think we better work out some way to feed her if I’m not around,” she admitted a bit later. She was changing the baby with Aaron’s help. Lilith in her ignorance hadn’t realized that part of what had the girl worked up was a sizeable load in her diaper as well. “I don’t suppose the babysitter could change diapers…”
“I don’t like trusting them in space,” Aaron said. “I sure don’t want the crystal enigmas handling our baby.”
Minu sighed and nodded.
“With what we’ve learned about the stuff, frankly I’m getting more nervous, not less.”
“Agreed.” Minu said. “For now, lets all get some rest so we can formulate strategy in the morning.”
With Mindy in her crib and Aaron snuggled up behind her, an arm around her midsection, Minu fought against sleep for more than an hour. Far too many unanswered questions swirled through the back of her mind, and answers that were even more disquieting around the front of her mind.
Finally sleep took her. All night she dreamed about all humans forced by the Tog to undergo surgery to have chips like Lilith’s neural implants. Chips made of pure azure that moved around inside their brains like tiny crystalline spiders.
Chapter 21
March 14th, 535 AE
Deep Space, Ghost Fleet #2, The Frontier
“Evaluation of the salvaged Ibeen secondary cargo is complete,” Lilith announced at the morning briefing. She looked a lot better after a nights rest. The only one who looked still out of sorts was Minu, who appeared as if she hadn’t slept at all.
“Are you okay?” Aaron asked in the morning when he awoke to find her already showered and feeding Mindy.
“Just bad dreams,” Minu said, and didn’t elaborate. “What do we have?” she asked her daughter.
“Component blocks. You can think of them as roughly a cubic meter of pure alloy chips, raw moliplas, and raw circuitry. Using these component blocks, replicators can manufacture almost anything.”
“The systems on the carrier,” Aaron chimed in, “do they operate on that material?”
“Yes,” Lilith confirmed.
During their search of the carrier they’d found no fighter craft and only a few standard shuttles like they already possessed. Lilith had said the crew had likely used the shuttles and any remaining small craft when they’d abandoned ship.
However the carrier’s support equipment was still completely intact. Lilith had explained its operation to them. “This equipment can be used to fabricate parts of starships, even entire ships given enough time. Principally in the Kiile, they would be used to make replacement fighters for their on-board air wing complement.”
“They why didn’t they replace their fighters after the battle?” Minu asked.
“Because there were no component blocks present. These are necessary raw materials for manufacture and repair. It is most likely all on-board stores were depleted. An underway replenishment from the Ibeens would have been nearly impossible.”
“If I were pursuing this fleet,” Minu thought aloud, “the moment I detected any sort of replenishment operation underway I’d send in skirmishers.”
“Exactly,” Lilith agreed. “If we can get the main carrier systems online, and move component blocks over from the Ibeen, we should be able to start manufacturing fighters.”
“That would be awesome,” Aaron said, rubbing his hands together.
“You do realize the People’s fighters are drones, right? It was not in their nature to directly expose themselves to combat like that.”
“No, I didn’t know that,” he said, deflating somewhat. “But I bet we can change that.”
“There is no reason to not assume we could modify the design if you wish to put yourself at risk.”
“We’ll talk about that,” Minu said darkly. “Since you’re retired and all.” Aaron glared at her and she winked. “So what is it going to take to get these carriers operational?”
“That is the difficulty,” Lilith said. “Like the Fiisk the Kiile use a version of the combat intelligences employed by the Kaatan. But the Kiile use nine of them. Two to operate the carriers (sharing flight and combat functions), one to manage repair and replenishment operations, and the other six for the flight wings.”
“Holy shit,” Kal’at barked. Minu once again marveled at how quickly the Rasa had adapted human mannerisms and sayings. “We have exactly one CI, and we keep finding stuff that needs them in bulk lots. What are we going to do?”
“I’m working on that,” Minu said, but didn’t elaborate.
“That’s fine,” Kal’at said, obviously a little annoyed at not being included in some secret. “But what do we do until then?”
“Fake it,” Aaron said, “as usual.”
Lilith gave a little smile. “There are considerable computer spares. And with the component blocks, we should be able to fabricate a computer system powerful enough to allow a crew to at least fly one of these, or both.”
�
��I want them both,” Minu told them. “Somehow, I don’t really care how.”
Everyone looked around at each other. Kal’at gave his all too human shrug. And that was that.
“You brought a hundred EPCs, is that correct?” Minu ask Bakook.
“As you requested, yes.”
“Good, let’s start by getting the twelve Eseel attached to Kiile Alpha operational so we can maneuver it. We’ll bring Alpha alongside Beta and begin cross loading component blocks and EPC to get both ships primary systems online.” Minu glanced up to be sure everyone was following her, then continued. After the meeting, she got back in contact with Bellatrix via the quantum communicators.
By the end of two full weeks of operations in the ghost fleet, both Kiile were under power and the fabrications plants on Kiile Alpha was in limited operations. Moving heavy goods in space was a skill, and the Beezer were still mastering that skill. It often took most of their number to manage the relocation of a single component block aboard Kiile Alpha.
Kal’at spent most of his time with the fabrication plants on he carrier, struggling to get it operational. Just as Lilith had said, the fabricators were designed to be operated by a specialized artificial intelligence.
The machines had extensive files on removable media to manufacture a nearly endless variety of equipment. A backup against failure of other systems, as described by Lilith. But the actual machines’ operation was unbelievably complicated.
“It’s not just a machine,” Kal’at explained over dinner one night. He was both incredibly excited, and incredibly frustrated. “It’s more like a thousand interconnected machines. Their operation is like one of your human ballets, only several orders of magnitude more complicated.”
With the arrival of the large contingent of Beezer Minu rarely joined the parties in space. It was difficult for her not to be in the mix of things, even though it let her be with Mindy all the time. She’d taken to going on a shuttle with Aaron and Mindy. The cargo bay was partially reconfigured as a nursery. The babysitter bot still accompanied her, just in case she needed to venture into space.
The shuttle floated in space, the huge bulk of a Kiile Alpha on one side and the even more massive shape of an Ibeen on the other. They were aligned cargo dock to cargo dock. Just that morning, the Beezer in charge of cargo moving operations announced they had a procedure down.
So the two huge ships were moved together. Slowly, a few meters at a time, the operation took hours. Should even a minor miscalculation taken place it could have been catastrophic.
They decided that two hundred meters was as close as they wanted to dare. It left more than enough room for Minu’s shuttle to hover between them as the work proceeded.
“You have to admire their inventiveness,” Aaron said from his pilot’s seat. The Beezer had rigged up a series of gravitic projectors to push the massive component blocks across between the ships.
“They’re a perfect choice for our merchant marine service,” Minu agreed.
The blocks weren’t huge at four meters on a side, but they were massive. Each one weighed more than twenty tons. The fabricators took them apart as they were used. They were easy enough to handle in zero gravity, if you didn’t take their inertia into account.
As the fourth one was making the transition across and Minu was about to head over to the beginning of the first Fiisk salvage when the Beezer in charge called out in alarm. One of the gravitic systems had failed.
Huge spacesuited beings raced out of the way as the huge block of raw material spun out of control, a twenty ton missile.
“Oh this is going to hurt,” Aaron cringed.
At the last moment, one of the movement system operators got just enough control to give the block a good nudge. It missed the cargo lock by less than a dozen meters, crashing into the hull of the Kiile and exploding into a hundred million bits of plastic, metal, and electronics. In an instant it was a growing cloud of debris going in all directions.
There was a massive dent in the side of the Kiile hull and a spattering of parts clinging where they were imbedded by the impact.
“Well, that is a problem,” Minu said. Aaron just nodded.
“Mom, we have a ship arriving.”
Minu looked up sharply. “Identity?” she asked her daughter.
“Working on it,” came the reply.
Minu caught Aaron’s eye and gestured towards the near-distant Kaatan with her head. He nodded and slowly brought the shuttle around. Muffled sounds of pings and thumps echoed quietly as they flew through the remains of the component block. Already the Beezer were working to use the gravitic systems to start sweeping in the debris.
The shuttle got clear from between the ships and Aaron accelerated them towards the Kaatan. They were half way there when Lilith’s voice spoke up in her ear again.
“It’s Ibeen Beta,” Lilith said. “They’re just ahead of schedule.”
“That’s good, on both accounts.”
“I saw the last attempt to transfer,” Lilith said.
“I don’t blame the Beezer, we’re all on a steep learning curve. Any insights on how the People managed?”
“Not much,” Lilith admitted. “I’m afraid the AIs handled such things.”
“The advantages of unlimited processor cycles,” Aaron added. One AI had run a Kaatan battlecruiser with a crew of a dozen. A pair operated a Fiisk. The system that Lilith and Kal’at were designing would take a temporary command crew of twenty, with another two hundred or so to run each Fiisk. The People ran them with less than fifty.
The level of computer automation was also desperately jury-rigged. Lilith constantly reminded her that it would never serve as a combat ship rigged in such a way. When they’d first faced other species in space the enemy had been uncoordinated and poorly disciplined. Now they grew in abilities on a nearly daily basis. The T’Chillen in particular were becoming adept at small fleet actions. An improvised Fiisk would stand almost no chance.
“Give my respects to the ship’s captain,” Minu said, “and have them come alongside Ibeen Gamma. Lilith, we’ll meet you there.”
Lilith was quiet for a moment then came back. “They acknowledge. You might want to know the ship has a few more staff than you expected.”
“Who?”
Lilith gave a rare laugh. “I was sworn to secrecy.”
“Oh boy,” Aaron said.
Chapter 22
March 28th, 535 AE
Deep Space, Ghost Fleet #2, The Frontier
The meeting of two Ibeen was much easier, especially when they were both under power and command. It didn’t hurt that the ships were designed to dock in deep space. Each ball section had large cargo transfer docks designed to link with another Ibeen, or a space station. Unfortunately, not a Fiisk or a Kiile.
The two ships, both many thousands of tons of metal and plastic, delicately moved in like uncertain lovers sharing a first caress.
“Hard dock,” announced Bakook, Gamma’s captain, over the intercom. Minu was with Kal’at and Aaron, and a dozen Beezer were standing on the deck nearby waiting as well. Mindy had been too wound up to put her daughter down when she’d come aboard the Gamma from their shuttle.
Minu carried the girl on her hip, the baby’s legs straddling her own; she had an arm down the girl’s back and cradled around her bottom. It was an amazingly natural way to carry a child. Mindy was only six weeks old but she was already starting to hold her head up better and she always looked around with ever inquisitive bright green eyes.
“The lock is cycling,” one of the Beezer chuffed through his translator. The huge metallic splines of the ancient iris valve began to silently rotate and retract. As always Minu marveled at how a machine untold hundreds of thousands of years old worked so well.
As the splines finished retracting a party standing on the other side came into view and Minu smiled big. A tall lean black woman broke free and flew down the ramp in two long legged strides and slammed into Aaron, nearly sending him sprawli
ng. Minu was glad she’d taken the baby.
“Oh we’re so glad you’re okay!” Cherise cried on his shoulder. “I couldn’t handle loosing another friend!”
“It’s okay,” he said and hugged her close. “I’m pretty glad I’m okay too!”
“You’ll have to tell me all about it!” Cherise made him promise.
As others approached Cherise turned to Minu, looked down at the baby on her hip, and completely disintegrated. Minu did her best not to cry, and failed utterly. Too many hormones still in my system, she told herself as the two awkwardly embraced and cried. “I’m sorry,” she told Cherise, “I tried to make it back.”
Cherise sniffled and looked down that baby who’d also decided that crying was a good idea. She cupped the little one’s pale skinned face with her chocolate tinted hand, leaned close and hummed a tune Minu remembered from her time in Naomi. “Say hello to your aunt Cherise,” Minu said to her daughter.
Cherise looked up in surprise. “Please don’t kid. For my people, that is serious thing!”
“You are a sister to me in all but blood,” Minu told her. “We’ve bled together, cried together, and shared all we have. Will you be an aunt to my daughter?” Cherise managed to nod and more tears were shared.
Beezer crew and humans began to come across but left the little group alone out of respect. After a few minutes Minu was enough in control of her emotions to recognize the slightly squat but powerful figure of the leader of her bodyguards.
“Welcome aboard, Sergeant Selain,” she said.
The man nodded and saluted. “Glad to be here, ma’am. You’ve been hiding out here too long.”
Minu gave a little chuckle and shook her head. The rest of his squad was waiting nearby.
“Did you bring the soldiers?”
Selain nodded and gestured. A man dressed in the standard tiger stripe camo of the Rangers but with the epaulette tab of the Chosen and four black stars of a scout came forward, two other officers behind him. “First,” he said, “I’m Captain Tyler Pape, Three-First, Alpha Company.”