“So, I'm confident we can handle whatever the Horathians think they can throw at us. Hell, just towing Bismark out of her berth would give us a major edge!” He meant psychological edge, Bismark was little more than a target. But only a handful of people knew her true status and he was keeping it that way.
“Aye sir.”
“Firefly will be missed, but not for long,” Horatio said. “She'll be back.”
“If you say so sir,” the Lieutenant said.
“I do,” Horatio said, eying the younger man before looking away and playing with his stylus. “But for now, let's get this problem sorted out. Any word from Decius?”
“He's...” the Lieutenant cocked his head, no doubt accessing his implants. Finally he nodded. “He just sent a text message sir, he's detained at the Centilian colony on the other side of the system for the next week sir.”
“Tell him he and I are going to talk,” Horatio said and then held up a hand as the young man refocused on him. “No, wait, I'll do it myself. But for now, tell him he's on leave. You are now his second. Congratulations. Now, take a seat and let's get the manning table sorted out. I want Hecate to have a Captain by the end of the shift.”
“Aye aye sir,” the Lieutenant said, nodding.
Chapter 15
Two days after passing his last final, Jethro returned to the squad and Firefly. He felt a sense of relief, of being home. Anvil had been his birthplace, but Firefly and his squad mates were his true home and family. He had about a day before his next class started. He'd have to return to Anvil for it, there was no correspondence allowed. The professor was an ass, but Matilda allowed such antics since he was a good teacher.
The day after he returned, while testing the latest generation of remote probes they ran into a rogue. The sphere darted about in the corridor, totally out of control. The testers at first thought it was a fault but Firefly pointed to a data stream between the little robot and somewhere else. Streams were also going out to various cleaning robots nearby but so far Firefly had firewalled them. They considered it a prank until the transmission was tracked to the armory.
Jethro was about to enter the compartment and paused at the door. “We've got a problem,” the SP said. They had corralled the angry bot in a closet. Eventually it would run out of juice.
“Oh?”
“Yes. It seems you are sending a signal to the remote.”
“I am? Jethro checked his implants. “No, I'm not,” he said after a moment.
“It's not him I said,” the tech said. “It's his suit.”
“Um, one problem, I'm not wearing it. Shouldn't it be powered down?” Jethro asked. The tech looked at him, blinking. Slowly she nodded.
The entered the armory. The suit was there, ready to go. They look at the armorer who was working on the bear's suit. The armorer looked up. “Running late?”
“Um, no, we've got a problem,” Jethro replied. He turned to his suit. He could see the eye slits and the shield emitters glowing faintly for a half second before they flickered out.
“The signal is gone,” the tech said in confusion.
“Localized?”
“Oh it's definitely the suit. Someone must be piggy backing it from there,” the tech said going to the suit. She reached for it but the suit glowed to life. Her hand immediately paused. “Um, is that supposed to be doing that?” she asked.
The SP had been staring at the armorer. The armorer sucked in a breath and then nodded his chin to the armor. Slowly the Marine turned to see the live suit. The optical sapphire slit of a visor was glowing red and yellow like eyes.
“No. Something's going wonky,” the armorer said. He looked at Jethro. The panther didn't look back, he was slowly approaching the suit. It's head turned to him and he reached out and touched it. He felt a zap and shook his hand off swearing. The suit's head turned back and then the entire thing slumped and darkened once more.
“What the hell was that all about?” Jethro demanded, shaking his hand paw.
“No idea,” the armorer replied. “But I know one thing,” the armorer said grimly. “We're damn well going to find out before it goes out again.”
...*...*...*...*...
They reported to Major Forth sometime later. “The best we can think of is a ghost in the machine. It's not hacked, we've ruled out a piggyback or a slave.”
“Fascinating,” the Major replied, tenting his fingers together. “So in other words, you don't have a clue.”
“We know what it's not sir. That eliminates the obvious.”
“A ghost though?”
“Remnant AI of some sort.”
“Firefly?” Jethro asked, looking up.
“I have been monitoring the situation Corporal. I am not sure about the situation either. I can tell you that the signals were erratic but indicative of some sort of intelligence. I don't know the level though.”
“Whatever it is it's gone now. I mean, we checked it. Ran compiling, even looked for AI machine code. Nothing that would do this.”
“Then you are looking in the wrong place,” Firefly responded. “And I will have to ask... no order you to stop.”
The armorer paused, now confused. “Oh?”
“You're investigation is treading into classified territory. I can't permit you to breach that without proper authorization. If there is another AI involved it won't either.”
“I'm surprised it has to this level.”
“I'm not sure why it has. I only know my own programming. Stop. That's an order.”
“So what do we do if it does it again? Or goes for a romp through your systems Commander?” the armorer asked.
“I have defenses against that Sergeant.”
“Ah.”
“Can we still use the suit? Should we?” Major Forth asked carefully.
“I've used it before without problems sir. What brought this on?”
“I'm not certain. I do know it's not a threat,” Firefly responded carefully.
“Oh?”
“Sir it didn't kill anyone, just explored. It was inquisitive. Had it wanted us dead it could have easily done that,” Jethro said, rising to the defense of his armor.
“True.”
“I would prefer you didn't use the suit but since it is an asset, a rare one at that, we have no choice. But I will have to insist it be only used in extreme situations,” Firefly finally said.
“Combat usually is Commander,” Forth replied dryly.
“That it is Major. I meant no more training in the suit. At least not until... not until you know more.”
“You mean we know more. You know what you know already Commander.”
“Unfortunately I can't and won't comment about that Major.”
“All right. Put the suit away and find another subject Riley,” the Major said, looking at the Sergeant. The armorer nodded.
“I'd be more comfortable sir if the Corporal was issued another suit,” the AI said quietly.
“Why? We can't make them easily you know. We're limited on what milspec materials we have on hand. Once it is gone we're down to using civilian grade,” the armorer replied indignantly. “It's bad enough that only a half company has suits at all! That's all we can do right now! I've been mixing in civilian and playing with skinsuit tech to try to stretch the supplies I've got...”
Firefly cleared his virtual throat, cutting the Sergeant off. “I... very well Major. I do wish to log a protest however.”
“Log away,” the Major sighed, sitting back and waving a hand. “We'll take what you said, no ordered and do our best to follow it. That means no more stealth road tests for now.” he said looking first to Jethro and then to the armorer. “And no more tinkering or probing to reverse engineer the suit.”
“Yes sir,” both men responded.
“Good. You can still use the suit in regular training however.” He eyed the AI. The AI remained silent. “Get out of here. I've got to finish prep work for the exams coming up. Something both of you should be concentrati
ng on.”
“Yes sir.”
“Dismissed.”
When they were gone the Major looked up to the ceiling once more and tapped his chin. Firefly's avatar appeared on his desk. His eyes dropped down but he continued to tap his chin. Finally he settled into looking at the AI. “Cadre suit?” he asked softly. They'd already established that.
“Major...”
“We've established that much already. So it's got an AI in it. Somewhere Riley hasn't looked. Probably microscopic since He was thorough. In one of the boxes he couldn't hack or something else. Either way it's moot.”
“Yes Major.”
“Except that it lets the Corporal use the suit. I'm wondering if there is some sort of genetic link there. Could the probe have been looking for Jethro? And if so why? Is there some sort of bond forming?”
“There is always a gestalt between organic and machine, suits are no exception to that rule Major,” the AI responded carefully. He knew he was treading on very thin ice. “We have to establish a rapport with those we work with after all.”
“True. The suit did accept him though,” the Major said. “And I'm guessing this has to do with those growths.”
“I can't say.”
“The suit already did. Otherwise he would have been very dead,” Major Forth replied dryly. “Keep an eye on things please,” he said.
“I already am.”
“I know that. But you can be a little less obstructionist and a little more helpful in this case. A little more carrot, and a bit less stick. If he gets enough information he may accept it and then move on.”
“Very well,” the AI replied with a nod. “But I can't help him. Not actively. I can't even say that he's looking in the wrong direction in his studies. Or where to look for instance.”
“Right,” the Major said absently.
“Like oh, implant tech,” the AI said. “Did you know the history of implant technology Major? Quite fascinating.”
The Major frowned slightly. “Hm... no, now that you mention it, I have been reminisce there. But I've been rather busy, and will be for some time. I'll have to make a note of it though,” he said. He rubbed his chin. “Or, delegate it,” he said, putting a call in.
...*...*...*...*...
Captain Pendeckle bumped into Jethro on Anvil. Jethro was surprised to see the Captain out of uniform in the mess hall. “How is it going Corporal? I heard you've gotten good grades,” the Captain said casually, getting a tray.
“Fine sir,” Jethro replied politely.
“You're taking what again?”
“A leadership class right now sir.”
“How is it?”
“It's mostly civilian crap sir. I'm not sure why we're required to take it, but it's required for the next grade,” Jethro replied. “I've almost finished my basics. English and math were hard until I let my implants take the load for me,” he said. He like others who had implants had figured out how to use the computers and calculators built into their implants to do the math for them. After all, they were a tool, and the important thing was to let the tool do the job while he focused on the next step.
“Cheating,” The Captain teased with a half smile.
Jethro flicked his ears in amusement. “You know the saying sir...”
“If you aren't cheating you aren't trying hard enough. And the computers are there to be used. Yeah, I got you.” He nodded. “Say, did you ever get into the history of implants?”
“History of implants?”
“Yeah, implant tech. I'm curious about it myself. There is all sorts of stuff in there. Like Betas,” the Captain said, finishing with his tray. He turned as the cashier rang him up.
“Beta's sir?”
“Yes, I just read about them. Genies. Synthetic biology. People, humans, Veraxins, Neo's, whatever species, they were genetically modified to be better. Just minor things for some, but also better able to accept grafts and implants.”
“Really sir?” Jethro asked, ears forward in interest.
“Yes. And since it's written in their DNA, they passed it on to us their kids. I envy some of the people who have those genes. Better than a poor schmuck like me who had to make do with all original parts.”
Jethro wasn't sure what to say about that.
“It's really fascinating reading. You should check it out sometime son. All sorts of neat things in there. At the very least it may put you to sleep.” His tone sounded odd, making Jethro wary.
Jethro heard the not quite order in that statement. He wasn't sure why the Captain was telling him this, but he'd go along with it. He nodded. “Yes sir.”
“Good hunting Corporal,” the Captain said, giving him another nod since neither men were in uniform before he exited the galley.
...*...*...*...*...
Jethro looked into implant tech history later after he finished his homework assignment. He was bored with it for a while until he remembered the Captain's comment about betas and genies. He looked that up and then found links about synthetic biology. Cross referencing that material with the genies led him to organic computers. Suddenly he sat up straight, making connections. Connections that apparently he and Doctor Standish hadn't seen before. Right under his nose...
“Well, I'll be damned,” he murmured, now fascinated. Now he understood what the officers had been driving at. Someone in the chain of command had figured out something, and then decided to pass it on to him. And here was the something. Organic computers, built into the nervous system of a host. Grown through synthetic DNA sequences, with the DNA also serving as the computer code. Multiple redundant strands to prevent data or structural loss. The listing went on and on, he barely understood half of the headers but he now bet they were all relevant, relevant to him and Letanga. It made for baffling but fascinating reading.
...*...*...*...*...
Major Forth held promotion exams since a class of one hundred new recruits had been assembled and were about ready to be trained. They needed to free up space to let them train, so the recruits in the pipeline were being passed on early. Jethro scowled at the very idea of moving recruits through training so fast. That shouldn't be what they were doing, but they were doing it anyway. No crucible, minimum training. He tried to check the records but was rebuffed, he didn't have the clearance. He sighed in frustration, massaging his brow.
There had been some scuttlebutt about some high level discussion before the brass had gone through with the accelerated program. Apparently they needed more noncoms to take the new meat under their wings and to expand the squads into platoons. He received an e-mail a few moments later. When he opened it his jaw practically dropped. His test had been moved up to tomorrow. Great. He could hear people cursing as they scrambled to get ready.
...*...*...*...*...
Jethro was rather nervous a day after the exams, but he had passed the board exams with mostly flying colors. The practical he knew by heart, he could do that in his sleep. It was the written portions of the next exam cycle that had his stomach tied in knots. That and what came after that, the DI test later in the week. He firmly regretted taking on so much now. He'd done it out of ambition, a sense of boredom, and because he wanted the challenge. The heavy class load had interfered with his squad training, but it had been exhilarating. He had gained an insight into noncom command as well as the minds of the Drill Instructors. Hopefully it would help him cope with the incoming meats they would soon be getting. He didn't know why the Gunny had insisted he take on the double class load, but he had proven to himself that he could handle the class work.
Sergeant Brenet wasn't happy about passing them on so quickly. He seemed harried, tired, and more than a little grumpy. Having dozens of potential noncoms asking what was on the test was a pain in the ass he hadn't expected. The change in plan forced the instructor to dump a preparation document on his class, and then a practice exam.
They went over the quick exam near the end of the class, getting chased out by the next class coming in. Jethro
like a few of the other enlisted took to their racks to study the prep document.
Jethro completed the DI course and passed the final exam with an low A, he still had issues with the written portion of the exams. It was a grueling experience, not nearly as bad as F platoon since it was only for a week but still not easy. The attention to detail and zero defect mentality he could deal with, but some of the more finicky bits were harder to manage.
He found he could project command presence since he was a predator, that was easy once he got over his qualms. He knew his throat would feel raw after a couple of hours of shouting, even with his implants. Apparently some of the DI's kept water or throat spray handy, to stave off laryngitis.
Teaching recruits to preface everything they said with 'Drill Instructor', teaching them to speak only when spoken to, all the little mind games and cussing to take pot shots at someone's ego, it had seemed petty and cruel in boot. Sadistic, a way to beat down the boots. Now he understood the psychology, it really was true, to beat them down, but it was never personal. It was all to get the recruits to the proper frame of mind, to break them down in order to build them back up into superior Marines.
The various stats, it annoyed him to have to learn some of what he'd learned in the classroom. Granted it was one thing to get a download, too often people weren't bothering to access the information. But he had. Having to memorize the MPFT standards for each species for instance... that had been a stupid waste of time.
Teaching boots about the importance of a battle buddy, how to get them to check their partner before a formation, make sure that both knew that they needed to rely on each other. Make sure that they both didn't forget to keep an eye on each other, to not loose or forget equipment... he shook his head.
The gas chamber was something new and interesting. F platoon had gone vacuum early on, only one or two other platoons had done it as well. The others had worked on their formation marching or class work while their compatriots had hit the high notes of some of the advanced courses. Apparently the gas chamber and an introduction to skinsuits were going to be part of the syllabus. That was good.
Jethro: First to Fight Page 31