by Rolf Nelson
Allonia looks skeptical.
Helton: Symbols for degree. Greater than. Equal to. Plus. Minus. Divide. Square root. Parentheses. Apostrophe. Quotes. Brackets. Integral. About a hundred just for set notation. The letter “i” is used for imaginary numbers, electrical current, irradiance, inertia-
Allonia: Yeah, yeah, OK, I get the point. So, what’s your best guess, then, with a heaping side order of caveats and maybes?
Helton: Top line, literal, is something like “appear when all done.” In English, “we, the Planet Movers, will reveal ourselves to you, the readers of this, when you have shown you have done all of the following things.”
Allonia: I see what you mean. Like the short version, understand the long one.
Helton: Exactly. The next line we’re pretty sure about. The “≡” more or less means “as shown by” or “as demonstrated by”, and the circle with a center dot that looks sort of like theta “Θ” means “thus it is proven,” or Q.E.D. They use them in proofs. “Master science and engineering, demonstrated by reading this.” The “Master” word is troubling, though. I’m pretty sure it has important nuance we’re missing. Basically, you have to know enough science and technology to achieve FTL flight, which you must have done to get to the stars, find these inscriptions, and translate them, so by virtue of the fact that you are reading this, you must have FTL and have a pretty good understanding of science and engineering. Simple enough concept. Sort of a noninterference clause with technologically primitive cultures.
Allonia: OK, makes sense. But the other three lines don’t have that QED thingy, so we haven’t proven them yet, right?
Helton: That’s the assumption. The other three are a pain. Assuming “master” is right, and I’m not sure it is more than an approximation, like deinos meaning terrible, they are “one person master one person,” “one person master all people,” and “master war.” Maybe. Not a blippin’ clue what the other side is. Not even sure what the left side means.
Allonia: Well, master war is clear enough.
Helton looks at her skeptically.
Allonia: Well, it means you don’t fight anymore… Right?
Helton: But not fight why? Can’t? Don’t want to? Don’t need to? No more enemies? Why not mean “be really good at it”? Or “everyone is a soldier”? Or “fight all the time”? Or “conquer all other known races”? Or “no wars in at least three generations” ? Or “practice all military technologies and styles”? They do have swords and spears surrounding the inscription. And how many people fighting, for how long, is considered a “war” as opposed to just a brawl, or kids growing up? There is vocabulary, syntax and grammar, and there is meaning. And the answers (gestures to the grenade-damaged pages in the book in front of him, poking his finger into the middle of the missing pages) are in a holey book.
FADE TO BLACK
BFR
FADE IN
INT - DAY - Cargo bay
The ramp is down and another cargo truck is backing in. Stenson, Alvarez and another dozen of his trainees are there. The truck slowly lifts and deposits a midsized container onto the cargo bay deck with a deep booming as is it set down.
Stenson: All right! Let’s get them upstairs!
CUT TO
INT - DAY - Engineering
Three engineer trainees are manhandling one the mystery cylinders into position near the hatch with the candle logo. Stenson stands at a console in the background. They roll it into the hatch, where automatic handling equipment rotates it slightly, then lowers it out of sight.
Stenson: Last one. Now then, let’s see what we can find out about our Roman Candle.
He reaches out, taps a few controls, some readouts change. Every screen and light goes dark for a moment. Total darkness. Then they turn a deep, intense blue. Small, white, blocky text shows appears a couple of screens at the far side of the room.
Alvarez: (Quietly) Shit. Did you finally find the reset button? Or kill it?
In the intense blue light, they approach the text on the screen. Closer, it is readable.
INSET - The text reads “Just messin’ with you for that RESET remark. I like my bits the way they are.”
They are all surprised, one inhales sharply, and all the screens and lighting return to normal.
Stenson looks around him, a suspicious look on his face.
Ship AI: (OC, normal male voice) I’d advise not testing it at the moment.
Stenson: (Surprised) Not test?
Ship AI: (OC) Correct. It would not be safe, the backstop is questionable.
Stenson: (Confused) Backstop?
Ship AI: (OC) Hills.
Stenson: Ah… back up. What sort of system is it? In normal terms, not “Roman Candle” riddles.
Ship AI: It converts electrical potential energy into other forms.
Stenson: (Takes a deep breath) What energy conversion needs hills?
Ship AI: (OC) The one you should be concerned with at the moment is kinetic.
Stenson: Kinetic? But the specs... You sure?
Ship AI: (OC) Quite. That’s why you want to keep it unloaded.
Stenson: Loaded with what?
Ship AI: (OC) Projectiles. (Somewhat apologetic) Ah, found the word you want. Sorry. Scatterbrained. BFR.
Alvarez: BFR?
Ship AI: (OC Cheerfully) Affirmative. Previous crew referred to it that way… Yes, the R does stand for railgun. Finding old memories is fun.
Eyebrows are raised all around as looks of comprehension appear on their faces.
Stenson: Energy?
Ship AI: (OC) 42 gigajoule maximum.
Stenson: Velocity?
Ship AI: (OC) Variable, depending on projectile type, size, and need.
Stenson: Velocity with optimal projectile to maximize projectile energy?
Ship AI: (OC) Approximately 130 kilometers per second.
Stenson: Maximum velocity?
Ship AI: (OC) Approximately 300 kilometers per second, depending on conditions.
Stenson: Yeeeaaahhhhh… I think not test firing it on the ground near a city would be a very neighborly thing to do. Might make a mess. Projectile would likely vaporize from atmo heating, but the thunderclap would be impressive.
Ship AI: (OC) Each section also stores electrical power for emergency use in other systems.
Stenson: How?
Ship AI: (OC) Either back-feed in normal conduits when in place or low power wireless if removed.
Stenson: Like batteries that work anywhere.
Ship AI: (OC) Yes. Most useful when shore power is intermittent and main power is offline.
Stenson has another “aha” moment.
Ship AI: (OC) A small supply of projectiles is located in a locker in the machine room behind the auxiliary bridge, and specifications for more are now available if larger stocks are desired. I’m sure the First Sergeant would want more.
Stenson: He’d want more if we had so many we were tripping over them.
Ship AI: Ammunition is like money. It’s hard to have too much.
Stenson: You’ve been talking to him, haven’t you?
Ship AI: I listen to everyone that talks to me… and experience is a pitiless teacher.
DISSOLVE TO
INT - DAY - Bridge
Quiritis at the helm, running another simulation. Helton walks in.
Helton: Got some great news, oh favorite pilot.
Quiritis: You found out what the M38Js are?
Helton: Even better. The railgun is now officially online. All we have-
Quiritis: REALLY!? The BFR?
Helton nods.
Quiritis: OK, now we’re a privateer!
Helton: I take it you think a railgun is good to have.
Quiritis: Not just any railgun. The BFR is about the best now in use anywhere. You saw how much damage the main railguns on the grav-tanks did?
Helton: Yeah.
Quiritis: Those are about twenty megajoules. This one is more than two thousand times as powerful.
/> Helton raises his eyebrows in surprise.
Helton: When you put it that way…
Quiritis: Not many ships can shrug off a hit equivalent to ten tonnes of explosives focused on a single point. Center hit, nothing short of a small moon can survive. And with the velocity it has, it’s damn hard to dodge. Overkill for most things, which is why modern ships go for smaller railguns. Easier to aim, higher rate of fire.
Helton: What do you think is best?
Quiritis: Me? Anything on Taj is best. Always does more than it looks like it should on paper. Weapons and people.
She smiles at him, and Helton smiles back.
FADE TO BLACK
Unexpected Parties
FADE IN
INT - DAY - Cargo Bay
Helton stands near Quinn, Lag and Kat. He’s partially clad in space armor which is a high-tech cross between a spacesuit and medieval head-to-toe articulated plate armor, trying to get the rest of it on with Lag’s help. It is both very serviceable and stylish. Quinn is dressed in shorts and a tee shirt, a dirty bandage on his thigh is visible below the shorts.
Lag: Pretty sharp.
Helton: Thanks. Quinn pulled it out. Fits perfectly.
Quinn: Said your armor was in storage.
Helton: So you did, so you did. Hand me that arm piece, please.
Quinn hands it to him.
Kat: Looking like a real spacer, now. How soon will you be ready to fly?
Helton: Dunno. Stenson has things pulled apart again. Raving about some sort of breakthrough on the drives, how to get all six cores synced up and both drives at once. He was talking theory very fast that was way over my head. You’d think he just found out his pet unicorn had triplets.
Kat: Got a few things to send back to Plataea. Figured if you were going that way…
Helton: Glad to carry something for you, if we can. Might be a good chance to test Stenson’s drive mods. Best keep copies, though; may be a star someday.
Kat: Hope not.
Helton and Lag are focusing on attaching the armor, and Quinn is watching him intently. Kat has her back to the lowered ramp.
Ship AI: (OC, pleasant male voice) Visitor.
The four of them look up sharply and turn. There stands Brother Libra smiling. He bows shallowly in greeting.
Helton: Oh, hello, Brother Libra! Welcome! I didn’t expect you! Come in, come in!
The others look at Libra and Helton in surprise.
Libra: You are looking well! How is life treating you?
Helton: You would not believe all that’s happened since we met. What brings you here? Oh, excuse me. Brother Libra, this is Col Lag. LT Kat. And Quinn, one of many long stories.
With each name, they exchange handshakes, even with Quinn, who regards the monk gravely. The monk squats and looks Quinn in the eye with equal seriousness.
Quinn: Are you here for Ship? Said you might be coming.
Libra’s expression is friendly, he nods.
Libra: Are you taking good care of it?
Quinn nods back.
Libra: Good, good. Glad to hear that.
The monk stands up and addresses Helton.
Libra: I received an interesting message from someone named Tajemnica. Seemed like a good time to go back into the world for a bit, and here was as good a place to go as any. So, you found the mysterious flying abbey?
Helton: And so much more.
Libra: (Bemused) So the old stories were true. I only remember bits and pieces, now. I will have to reread my notes when I return. At the time I thought they were outlandish… Mysterious ways, indeed.
Helton: What old stories?
Libra: Ones passed down by word of mouth between senior members about the early days of the order. Factions within the church, the war, mission work. Time for that later. So, tell me all that’s happened. I recognize the Plataean uniforms, but didn’t know they were working here.
Lag: Anywhere there is a threat of war, at least a few of us show up. Just wrapping up this one.
Behind them Allonia and Kaminski come down the stairs together. He is in uniform and light armor with a rifle slung across his chest and a bag of gear in his hand. She is in her ship “uniform” with a shotgun slung across her chest, also with a bag of shooting gear. They head for the group gathered on the ramp.
Kaminski: Headed for the range. Back in a while.
Helton: Hey, I’d like you two to meet an acquaintance of mine, Brother Libra.
They walk over, and exchange handshakes.
Helton: Sergeant Kaminski. Allonia.
Kaminski: Howdy! Didn’t expect Helton to know a priest.
Libra: Monk, not priest. Common mistake.
Allonia: Hello, Brother.
Ship AI: (OC, male voice, urgently) We have a problem.
Helton: What?!
Ship AI: (OC) Four grav tanks headed this way. Seymore not far behind with the police. He has an arrest warrant for Allonia.
Allonia: Oh no! They must have found out!
Kaminski: Found out wha- Oh, SHIT!
Helton: WHAT?
Allonia: (Talking fast) Taj told me a while back. I’m genetically engineered. A prohibited person.
The others look at her in surprise.
Allonia: If they arrest me and do a genetic test I can be executed immediately, and anyone helping me is a criminal, too! Sorry! I wasn’t trying to get you in trouble!
Kaminski: Don’t be silly! Stupid law, you haven’t done anything wrong!
Kat: If they arrest you, testing is almost automatic. Only way to avoid that is to avoid arrest.
Helton: We can’t fly, drives are down!
Kaminski: No vehicles around here can outrun the grav-tanks!
Lag: And they can eventually burn through even this armor if we can’t move.
Libra: Am I here at a bad time, Helton?
Helton: No such thing as a normal time around here. Ideas?
Allonia: (To Libra) Can you do anything? Give me sanctuary, or something?
Libra: We do not normally interfere in civil matters. What have you done that is such a crime?
Allonia: I haven’t done anything, I didn’t pick my parents! My mere existence is against the law!
Helton: Sort of like the Massacre of the Innocents; just being born was enough to condemn her.
Kat: Only way to not be arrested and tested is to have some sort of legal immunity. Can’t do that, though, unless you are a pol or a dip-
The Plataeans all look at Helton.
Kat: Taj, what’s required for a legal marriage here?
Ship AI: (OC) A simple ceremony, presided by a judge, justice of the peace, or recognized religious figure, and registration with the local government for legal status. If anything other than the standard legal contract is desired the contract must be registered in advance of the ceremony and legal recognition.
Kaminski: (To Kat) Are you really proposing that?
Helton: (To Kaminski) OK with it?
Allonia: Any other ideas?
Kat: Taj, can you register it before they get here?
Ship AI: (OC) If you hurry.
Libra: You are asking me to perform a sham marriage.
Helton: I’m asking you to save the life of a good woman, who has committed no crime. I’m not stupid enough to try and take advantage of her.
Ship AI: (OC, quietly) Your predecessors saved me once, when my mere existence was in violation of the law. You would be using one questionable law of men to thwart a bad law being used by an evil man to extract revenge on those who foiled his nefarious plans. To save an innocent life. That surely cannot be a sin, can it?
Libra looks intently at them all.
Libra: Not exactly what I had planned for the day, and I definitely want to know all about what’s happening when this is over.
He nods, and waves them closer.
Helton: (To Kaminski) Want to be best man?
Kaminski: (Muttering wryly under his breath) Never thought I’d be the best man at my
own lady-friend’s shotgun wedding. And smile about it.
Lag: Lieutenant, ever been a maid of honor?
Kat: First time for everything. Quiritis might be a bit annoyed, though.
Helton: She’ll understand, all considered. TAJ! Put out the word: folks have ten seconds if they want to attend! Fine day for gettin’ hitched! Got an illegal ship, may as well have an illegal wife!
Kaminski: Can’t wait for your encore.
Helton extends his left elbow to Allonia, waving with his other toward Brother Libra.
DISSOLVE TO
View of ramp, minutes later
The members of the wedding party now includes Sar and Kwon, Stenson, and a couple of his guys, no weapons visible. They are still at the top of the ramp, with Kat at the bottom as the four grav tanks glide up and surround it. Sitting on top of one of them, cigar sticking out of his mouth, legs in the hatch, is LT Saber, wearing light full-body armor with helmet visor up. He nods recognition to Lag.
Saber: What are you doing here, Sir?
Lag: Saving lives, Lieutenant. You have been put in a bind.
Saber: (Sounding uneasy) Got orders to help enforce an arrest warrant on a military target, Sir. Just got word, all hush-rush, no details. Know anything about it?
Lag: The warrant is for someone that is allegedly a genetically engineered person.
Saber: Holy shit, Sir! Sorta’ makes sense, now, but how’s that get my ass in a sling?
Lag: The warrant is political. The person named is a civilian, the wife of a diplomat. She has immunity, not a military target. Someone is trying to create an incident and is using you to help make it as complicated as possible.
Saber. Ah, well… uh, crap, Sir.
Lag: In fact, the diplomat in question happens to be the same man that owns this ship, saved three battalions of friendlies, and flew you into the breach enforcement action. You can imagine how… awkward… being involved in the arrest or death of a diplomat’s civilian wife might be. The political, legal, and career implications could be messy.
Saber chews his cigar stub slowly, thoughtfully, not looking happy. He nods slightly, maneuvers the cigar over into one corner of his mouth.
Saber: So, who’s the supposed badass?