by F Stephan
“Damn it, the gel was unnecessary. We could have held without.” Sunray really seemed upset. “I nearly choked to death. Damn you, girl. Don’t you have better sense?”
Nisar'al'Latol was clearly upset now. “Backandthere, one point less again. Sunray, Liliana saved your life. Your life support wouldn’t have lasted. Stop arguing and work together. I’ll see all of you for debriefing in my office after exercise. Now that Brian has found the way out, you’d better show me what you can really do.” And then, she shut off communication.
Twenty minutes later, Brian reached the exit point and jumped out of this star system, with ten minutes’ headway over the next ship. Chilin was busy reactivating what was left of the environmental while Liliana removed the gel. Sunray had stabilized the singularity, and his breathing was shallow. That didn’t leave any time for bickering before they left the simulation pod where they had been working for the last four hours.
The pods were much larger than the ones on Adheek. They could accommodate four to six people working together on complex scenarios like the one they had been through. Every afternoon since the day of the choosing two weeks before, half of the class went to the outer building of the academy and practiced in a large gray metal hall with pods and supporting equipment every twenty yards.
Brian thought of his last courses. The performance of backandthere had been average, neither catastrophic as some others had been, but not fantastic either. At every session, there were fifty points shared between thirty crews. They had trained unseen and unheard, without points. Without them, their rankings hadn’t changed at all in the main progress board, increasing the tension with Liliana. The other crews improved and got better but Brian’s seemed locked in its current state.
This was the first time they had been called to the master’s office, having lost points already for their infighting. The office was close to the entrance of the hall, with large windows opening onto it. In the center, they found a single desk with a chair. A large forceful woman with the golden skin of an Alkath and a square bald face waited for them, fidgeting. There were no chairs for visitors, nothing on the desk, no personal items on the walls. Twenty 3-D screens were visible around her in the room, showing different pods.
“What a sore bunch you are.” Her voice was scornful and high pitched.
“Mistress, backandthere reporting, as requested.” Alvam had told Brian about her. Be very, very polite, and do whatever she tells you. For once, Liliana followed his lead and saluted, with Sunray and Chilin behind her.
“Good. At least you haven’t forgotten your manners. Well, crew, I am not sure there will ever be a backandthere. I can’t understand how you were allowed to come here. Academies weren’t so lax in my youth.” She rose and stood very tall above them. Brian waited patiently. Nothing he could say would offset her now.
“Now, let’s get to the point. Brian, I reviewed your file and received your evaluation on astrogation. I also checked the comments of Taolel. We graduated together. Back then, you had the best route for escape.” Liliana gasped behind him. “Yes, little snot. He has, he’s far ahead of the others, and you’re awarded ten points for this.” She turned back to Brian. “You faced fire today and you triumphed. Congratulations! But until you can repeat it, this remains a danger for you and your teammates. I consider switching you to the role of navigator. In fact, if you hadn’t found a ship on Fizhert, I’d have already forced it. Prove me wrong, boy, or I will have you transferred before the turn of the year.”
Brian gulped. He often felt out of place here, but he knew he didn’t want to become a navigator. They were specialized pilots, experts in routes and paths, never flying on their own, and it didn’t feel like what he needed.
“Liliana, you’re the only one who had the guts to gel everyone. Half of the other crew died because of their lack of guts. The gel is no fun, but dying is worse. This was the right decision. It gets you ten points as well, while the dead have none. Minus the two you all lost with your infighting, you have eighteen, which is going to be the top score on this one."
Brian looked quickly at Liliana. Her grim expression had changed for an instant to a smile before returning to her severe expression. He could feel Sunray and Chilin exulting behind him.
The master continued, hammering the words. “But." She raised her hand. “There is a but.” This is where it’s going to hurt, Brian thought. “All your simulations will be monitored from now on. Every fight, every instance of bickering, every time your cooperation fails, you’ll lose one point. You change attitude now or you’ll be out of the academy within a month. Don’t think of this as a punishment. In space, what I saw today would have killed you, good riddance, and lost a starship for the Federation, which we can’t afford. Do you understand the rules?" Her voice had gone deadly serious, her face pale with contained fury.
“Yes, Mistress,” said Brian, hearing the others echo his words.
“Good, then savor your victory. The math brought you together for a reason, whatever it was. Find it or get lost.”
Four silent and pale-faced students walked back slowly toward the main hall of the east wing and the applause of their comrades.
Sonter
Alkath, 2140 AD, October
A few days later, Sonter arrived early at the flight center. At his last training, he hadn’t performed as well as he should have, and it bothered him. But now, he had to spend half an hour outside in the chilling wind. He cursed softly and moved to the side of the building, just a few yards away downwind. There, sheltering himself behind a small bush, he began to focus his mind on the next simulation. When he was deep in trance, he activated a small level of nanites, increasing his awareness of his surroundings.
Three rodents moving away, left of me. A gulzari nesting on the rooftop with two babies. Five people moving in my direction. Laughing. Don’t like this sound.
“What a half-wit! He doesn’t know left from right if you don’t tell him.” Unknown voice, accent from Alkath. Core snot. They are one hundred yards away upwind, coming in my direction.
“You shouldn’t say this. He may yet prove to be a Son of the Prophet. Give him some credit. What he has done is impressive for someone without the right blood. And he loves his freedom as we do.”
I know this second voice. Know it well. Alvam. What’s your game?
“We are elite, we of the Prophet. we starpilots. Some of the outsiders join us if they are deemed perfect enough.” The first voice, one of his cronies.
“And this is our task. We’ve got to find them. Don’t forget it.” Alvam again. Core worlds supremacy. What’s this story about a prophet? Father told me nothing about it. “Be patient and you’ll see! Let’s continue testing him. His nanites may be corrupted. Maybe that’s why he’s having so many problems.” Who’s Alvam talking about? No one has ever talked of corrupted nanites. “Hush, he’s coming.”
They’ve stopped talking. Their mood has shifted.
“Hello, how are you today, Brian? Come and join us. They’ve opened the hall. We are going to meditate before training.”
The name jolted Sonter out of his trance. Naturally, it had to be Brian. In the entire academy, he had to go and pick on him. Sonter remembered how, when younger, he had had to cope with the Ullemite and he had suffered greatly from it. He couldn’t stand Brian.
Sonter waited until the group had entered the hall before he left his hiding place. He would talk to Illoma and Shanak and set up some surveillance over their comrade to get him out of Alvam’s clutches. He’d have to work with Emily to build all this. Then, suddenly, Sonter laughed at the irony of the whole story. He hated it already.
Heikert
Lelet, 2140 AD, October
At the same time, a ship slowly drifted in the outer belt of the star system of Lelet, tumbling down like a rock. Heikert sat in the middle of his small scout, facing Firstrat Bolgaren and Mistress Moonlight. Unexpected as it was, the alchemy had worked out rather fine and the three of them had quickly found h
ow to fit in the tight space.
“What’s up, boss?” Bolgaren didn’t seem to ever be formal, and their time together hadn’t improved the situation. But, Heikert had to admit he was one of the best hackers he had found. He wore around his neck an exceedingly rare connection enhancer. It allowed him, through a direct connection to his spinal cord, to access through direct interface all kind of electronic equipment. But, it was rarely used because it required severing the spinal cord to implement the link. Any mistakes during the surgery would have crippled him. Something had pushed the carefree young man to this, but whatever it was, it had been a boon for the team, allowing them a deeper survey than Heikert had thought possible. The most challenging task was to bring Bolgaren back to reality from time to time and have him eat regularly. Since joining them, he had gained some weight and even a little muscle from their workouts.
“Well. Mistress, can you summarize your findings?” Now was the time to decide their next move.
Mistress Moonlight had proven to be a very demanding engineer, never satisfied with any results. On rare occasions, she was also an exceptionally beautiful young woman who could make Bolgaren blush fiercely. “We don’t have enough information for a definitive conclusion.” Heikert had expected this. She raised her hand, smiling. “We’d need a real team of xenopsychologists to work on this. We’re not properly qualified. They’re a sick culture, extremely sick.”
“What happened here is unbelievable,” interjected Bolgaren. “What were the Ancients thinking? They’ve trapped the whole planet with nanite dumps. Somethings here remind me of Ullem. They’ve been cursed ever since the fall. No wonder they built a faith protecting them from any nanites. Except this faith became the worst dictatorship I’ve ever seen.”
Moonlight continued in a slow, measured voice. “I’m also concerned with the current plague. It happens so fast. It’s a very unlucky coincidence that will remove all remaining culprits before the Federation arrives.”
Bolgaren couldn’t wait a minute more. “You don’t tell it properly. If we had arrived a month later, we’d have missed most of the interesting discussions. If this plague is natural, it’s too damn convenient. I say it isn’t.”
Mistress Moonlight kept on, unabated. “I’d have to agree. We have enough to convince the Federation to send a full force to get things back on track.”
This was where Heikert wasn’t convinced. “What evidence can we present the council?”
Mistress Moonlight sounded very sure of herself as she answered. “Well, we’ve got a transcript from the surface communication found by Bolgaren on their plague. We can also show how they feel toward the Ancients and their technology. There’s the fact that they’re ruled by a sick priesthood. I’ve nothing against a theocracy, but this one, and its reeducation facilities, is bad. They’re also holding their few pilots prisoner on their moon base and keeping their families hostage. We have proof of this.”
Master Heikert answered in a soft voice. “Those concerns are beyond the Charter of the Federation. The council can’t act on that.”
Bolgaren came to the rescue. “The ship hidden in the repair hangar of their base may be the one that attacked Captain Derantor last year.”
“Have you seen the hull number? What details link it with the incident?” Heikert lightly stressed the last words.
“No. I haven’t been able to get into the base network. If only we could insert a listener on their network, I’m sure I’d get all the information you’re asking for. And those proofs would require action.”
“And how would you insert this listener?” Heikert was careful to sound simply curious. From the corner of his eye, he saw Mistress Moonlight raise her hand, but it was too late. Bolgaren had taken the bait . . .
The other
Volpre, 2140 AD, October
The agent walked cautiously, though with assurance, among the rubble of the last meteoritic crash. This section of the station faced the swarms of asteroids that orbited the sun, and many craters marred it. The nanites couldn’t repair it fast enough to make it habitable; as far as everyone on board knew, it had been deserted ever since the rats had reached the station. For his walk, he had donned a modern dark spacesuit with an extra air tank and a large backpack. When he entered the section, he had been identified through his translucent visor, and his progress was now watched. If he hadn’t been an agent, he’d have died in one of the metal forests, struck by a loose spear and left there as a warning to the daring teenagers who tried to cross the area from time to time. Some made it through, but so few it kept everyone else away. It had remained mostly unnoticed until now, a common feature of the station, so usual, even his enemy hadn’t thought to look for him there.
At last, the agent reached an Ancient security door in pristine condition. It would take days to breach it, even with the more recent Federation technology, but silently, it opened before him. He walked quickly inside, and light and air flooded the empty airlock. When pressure equalized, the inner door let him enter a large hangar. An old ship sat there, repaired and ready to leave at an instant’s notice if its master should decide to. A couch with a small adjoining table had been set up facing the nose of the ship. The agent opened his helmet and laid his backpack next to the couch.
“Welcome, my friend.” He reviewed the data about his visitor before continuing the discussion, calling it up to his retina. The agent had come from a family of Faithfuls, Sons of the Prophet, initiated by his father just after he reached adulthood, and had served well for two centuries. “Friend” was a rare title he had earned many times over. There were rewards in the service of the Prophet, but he would have to settle soon and foster new blood to serve his master. They would discuss this soon. “Please, have a seat. Refreshments have been prepared for you.” He always made sure to sound cheerful and greet his agents properly. He even took care to modulate and transform his voice, a disguise he hated but a necessity for him now. A small robot brought a tray with drinks.
“Thank you, Prophet.” The agent seated himself in front of the ship. His voice echoed hollowly in the hangar.
“What news is there?” He didn’t want to sound too eager, but time wasn’t on his side.
“The new planet is promising, my lord. Very promising.” The agent opened his backpack and laid its contents onto the tray. He took the offered glass while the robot scooped the objects and disappeared back into the ship through a side hatch. He sipped his drink quietly while the items were analyzed. “I was able to plant all the seeds you asked me to and leave just before the new pilots arrived. Dissension, rebellion—their world is in turmoil and they need a master like you, my lord.”
“Has the Origin Cult moved into position?”
“Yes, my lord.” The agent smiled ruefully. “Their infiltration attempt is crude and will be discovered easily. That will divert attention from us long enough.”
Conditions seemed to meet what he had been looking for for a long time. It seemed too good to be true. Can it be a trap? How would she rig it? His enemy was cunning, as bright as he was, even if he hated to admit it.
The agent hesitated for a moment and added shyly, “They have hardly any nanites at all in their blood, Prophet.”
He checked the data in amazement. “Astonishing.”
“Yes, Prophet.” The agent bowed his head. “No artifacts, no traces of the Ancients. How is that possible?”
“I don’t know.” There were few people to whom he told the whole truth, but the agent was one of them. “Some people fled the Imperium long time ago on slow ships before the nanites were implemented at full scale.”
“But we should have found a ship, shouldn’t we?”
“Yes. Maybe it’s still hidden in the belt. Or maybe it came from even before the Imperium and the ship didn’t make it through the ages.” His voice trailed. He dared not hope for this.
“Prophet, isn’t it at last what you were looking for? An unmodified human?”
He was surprised. He hadn’t revealed th
ose secrets to him yet.
“Did your father tell you about this?”
“And his father before. This is the true objective of the Sons and Daughters, ever since the foundation of our order.” The agent kneeled and bowed his head deeply.
“Then, he did well, and your family served beyond expectations. I am pleased with you.” Truly and unexpectedly so. “You’ll tell me of a reward and I’ll grant it.” His word had been his bond for so long now, the agent beamed at the assurance of obtaining anything he asked for. Yet, his words sent the Prophet’s memory spiraling back in time.
Four thousand years before, the fleet had left Ullem in great spirits. For a year it had flown between stars, looking for his lost lab. Accidents, radiation, and ill-fitting electronics had decimated it. He had been too eager to go, and they were too young, too untrained. It was a complete disaster, he had lost his way between jump points and they were now completely lost, barely surviving.
The First Servant approached respectfully. “The Faithful Engineers inform us that the singularity has begun to oscillate again. They estimate we can jump one more time before it will become unstable.”
He reviewed the ship’s log and nodded. “I concur with their analysis. Hopefully, this one last jump will bring us to a repair station.”
“Can you do it, Master? Your body suffers more and more.” The servant’s anxiety was palpable. He didn’t have any pilot capable of withstanding nanites and jumping. So, he had done the only thing he could think of. He had wired himself to the ship, body and mind meshed into the main console, and used his nanites to support his trained pilot during the jumps. Before leaving, he had added around him a medical center to support his bodily functions. It had initially proved to be a very efficient idea, but it hadn’t been designed for a lot of jumps. His plan had been to find the lab quickly. He’d have been able to grant his pilot the jump ability with dedicated nanites, but he hadn’t found the lab and he had had to keep on like this for too long. He felt the strain in his body, the ache in his mind numbing his senses.