Sleeping in the Stars

by D Patrick Wagner

  “Good trip?”

  “Exciting, not very dangerous.”

  “Did you get all of the stock? I checked the lab. It is totally gone. I’m going to need to drill out another asteroid and start all over.”

  “Sorry about that. But I didn’t lead them to it. They were already set. I did get my load, though. It’s ready for you.”

  I’ll send a crew and loader.”

  “You won’t need the loader. Just a wagon. I’ve activated Duke to manage Clyde. I’ll have him move the cargo.”

  Gregor pushed a button on the desk com unit. “Send a wagon and three men to Captain Marston’s ship. An android will direct the operations.” Releasing the button, Gregor turned back to Krag.

  Krag leaned forward and placed his data pad on the desk, facing Lawrence.

  “Here are my expenses. Note that I lost a shuttle. That’s listed, also.

  “No problem. You can pick up one as you leave. I’ve got a nice four person executive shuttle I picked up from one of my clients. You can have that one.”

  “Payment?” Krag asked, sipping his drink.

  “After inspection.”

  “A minute. I’ll let Duke know.” Krag placed his hand to his ear. He didn’t need to, but Gregor didn’t know that he was still running on his military mesh or that Buster, the full star fleet AI, currently had Duke boxed and was in control. “Duke?” Krag vocally asked.

  “Yes, Captain?”

  “Three men are to arrive. Allow them to inspect the inventory. I’ll let you know when they can unload it.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “While we are waiting, Lawrence, I have a request.”

  After a sip, Gregor responded, “Oh?”

  “I think I want to set up a base of operations.”

  “Tolimar?”

  “How did you know?”

  “One of my contacts has been sending me reports on your trip. I looked at that system, in the past. But it is too barren for any labs. Also, not enough gates. I liked what you did with the shuttle, by the way. I may steal that idea in the future.”

  “Fingers everywhere. So, I want to set up a full base of operations, totally camouflaged. I want it to look like a normal home.”

  “You’re getting old, Captain. Home? Do you want a white picket fence? Roses?” Gregor chided.

  Rolling the glass in his hands, Krag rolled his eyes, “Just a base. I’ve been in space for what? Twenty-three years? I think I want some roots. That’s all. Will you help? I’ll pay. You know I am good for it.”

  “Why don’t you settle here? You know I don’t have a good transportation chief. You could have the job. I’ll set you up with everything you’d want.”

  “You know that’s not me. I’d go crazy in a year. You know that. After the Space Force I couldn’t get slotted back into a bureaucracy. But it is nice to be wanted. Let me do my thing. We both win.

  “It was a try. Yeah, I’ll do it. Tell me what you need. I’ll get it set up. In fact, I’ll pay for it, if you do another job.”

  The conversation was interrupted with a buzz from Gregor’s desk com. Pressing a button, “Yes?” he asked.

  “It’s all here. Everything is fine.” Came the voice of one of Gregor’s employees.

  Reaching beside his chair, Lawrence lifted a briefcase, placed it on the desk and looked at Krag. Krag placed a hand on his ear. “Duke, have Clyde proceed with unloading the containers.”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  Shoving the briefcase towards Krag, Gregor went back to the conversation. “About the job. I want you to pick up a passenger then swing by the shipyard. Deliver her to a planet, pick her up and take her wherever she wants to go. You do that and I will build your base for you. Plus expenses. What do you say?”

  Krag quickly calculated a ballpark figure on the cost of his base. “That’s a lot of money.”

  “He really wants this,” Krag thought.

  “How dangerous?”

  “Don’t know. Depends on your passenger. Could be none. Could be a lot.”

  “One run. You build my base to my specs. Free and clear.”

  “That’s the deal.”

  “Plus expenses.”

  “Plus expenses. Rising, Krag stuck out his hand. “Deal.”

  Rising, Lawrence took it. With one strong shake, “Deal.”

  Releasing the grip, Lawrence handed a data chip to Krag and walked around the desk.

  Krag grabbed the briefcase, never looking inside, turned and walked with Lawrence to the exit. Standing in the giant foyer, they shook hands one more time and Gregor returned to his office. Looking around, Harriet wasn’t to be seen.

  Krag, with briefcase and data chip in hand, walked to the storage hanger at the end of the landing pad. A worker met him at the door.

  “Mr. Gregor said you would have a shuttle ready for me,” Krag stated.

  “Yes, Captain. I’ve moved it to the launch area. It is ready to go.”

  The two of them walked to the waiting shuttle, Krag climbed into the pilot’s chair, fired it up and flew over to where the Griffin had landed.

  Gregor’s laborers were just climbing into the wagon and exiting the ship as Krag babied the shuttle into the cargo bay. He settled it into its docking clamps, shut everything down, took one more look around the cockpit and left, closing the shuttle up behind him. Once more sitting in Griffin’s command pod, he pulled the data chip from his pocket.

  “Buster, isolate this chip, load it on a completely independent circuit board. Do full diagnostics before you read it.” With that, he slid the chip into a slot and waited.

  “Captain, there is a set of coordinates, a woman’s name, a woman’s picture and two phrases. One phrase is labeled ‘introduction’ and the other is labeled ‘response’. There is also a tracking app imbedded in the main directory. And a virus.”

  “Well, Gregor does like his passwords. Keep the chip isolated. Are Gregor’s men off of the ship?”

  “Yes, Captain. The men have left the ship.”

  “Close us up and get us into space.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The chemical liftoff blew a lot of billowy white gasses over the spaceship pad as Griffin lifted high enough to rotate to the vertical position where the norm-space fusion engines kicked in, blasting the fast little ship through the atmosphere, ionosphere and into the vacuum of space.

  “Buster, is the chip copy protected?”

  “Yes, it is, Captain.”

  “What is the name of the contact on the disk?”

  “Keiko Suzume, sir.”

  “Manually duplicate all information to a folder labeled ‘Keiko’ using a sector copy. Not the tracking app, or virus. Keep it isolated. Then do a complete wipe of the chip.”

  “Tasks completed.”

  Krag removed the chip, tossed it in a waste processer, where it was liquefied and the few drops of waste were added to the recycling bin.

  “Buster, do a complete scan of the shuttle. Check it for anything out of the ordinary and any tracking devices or signal generators. Run a signal dampener throughout the shuttle and keep a monitor going, in case something is sitting dormant to be activated later.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Buster, what are the coordinates that were listed on the chip?”

  “They are in the heart of the Federacy. Two systems from the Capitol planet. It’s on the surface of a planet in the Dorogon system. The planet is ‘Nyu-Nippon’.

  “Buster, take us back to Bridgelen and plot a non-linear course to Nyu-Nippon.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Also, just before we get to Bridgelen, turn the transponder back on. I want everything to be above board.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  During the twelve day trip back to Bridgelen, Krag scoured his ship, removing or concealing every trace of his illicit activities and illegal hardware. Buster’s android, labeled ‘Clyde’, stood anchored to the cargo deck, the labor AI program loaded. The avatar’s combat armor, weapons,
insertion pod and jet pack were stored in their smuggler bins, as was the briefcase of monetary credits. The jail bars in the containment cabin were covered front and back with paneling, the room, itself converted to look like a storage room. All external weapons were withdrawn, with plates sliding over their portals. He couldn’t do anything about the thruster systems, but he had bills of sale (forged by Gregor) stating he had bought them at a scrap auction. With all serial numbers and identification tags filed off and forgeries re-stamped, that was the best he could do.

  On the twelfth day the Griffin exited the hyper-space gate and Buster turned on the transponder, the final touch to Griffin’s being completely above board. Captain Krag Marston flew a duly registered light hauler and executive transport with all identification in order. When the Federacy inspectors come on board, which was inevitable, the captain’s cabin would be loaded with pictures of Major Marston’s days in the Space Force. They would see awards and medals on the walls. They would see pictures of the Major with powerful Federacy bureaucrats and politicians. Any diagnostics of the computer system would find nothing but Duke, a civilian operations AI.

  Krag Marston-Then

  After the initial confrontation with Gregor, Major Marston had submitted a report which stated that there was no good way to rid the Federacy of this criminal. The report described how Gregor had dug a veritable fortress into a mountainside. The report described the extreme loss of life and material which would occur if the Federacy decided to assault Gregor’s homestead. And, since the rest of the planet displayed loyalty to the Federacy, a planetary bombardment was not recommended. The public relations would be a nightmare. Attacking him and his syndicate could only be done through attrition, destroying Gregor’s criminal infrastructure. Somehow, the report and the recommendations got into Gregor’s hands.

  The Federacy went about destroying the criminal infrastructure of Gregor’s empire, under the command of Vice-Admiral Weiskoff and with Commander Marston leading the assaults. When Major Marston received his orders or submitted his report and recommendations to his superiors, again, magically, copies got into Lawrence Gregor’s hands.

  The opening bid had been made. Major Marston knew that Gregor was a criminal. But he also knew that the crime boss had never done anything remotely as evil as the Federacy. Krag’s self-loathing at what he had contributed in the destruction of that planet allowed him to justify climbing in bed with someone less evil than the Federacy.

  For the next year, when Marston’s wing was involved in a raid, the targets were always there. Lots of product and equipment got destroyed. Some insignificant people got killed or arrested. But nothing or people of great value was ever discovered.

  After the first few successful failures, Krag contacted Gregor, his first illicit transaction with the criminal. And the first test. Marston needed an off-the-books housing for his AI and an off-the-books personal data pad. Gregor left both of them on an asteroid in the Arium system. During the next raid, Marston swung by and picked the equipment up. He found a note: ‘A gift. Contact me if you need anything else.’

  While flying back to the carrier, Marston illegally copied Buster into the AI storage, a containment unit disguised as an emergency survival unit. All fighters carried one, a last resort to the last resort. In the twentieth and twenty-first centuries, mankind would swim in Earth’s oceans using scuba (self-contained underwater breathing apparatus) gear. The same design was still being used three centuries later. The standard unit consisted of a cylinder, valve system, hose and face mask. This particular piece of gear still functioned as a survival unit but had an added containment chamber hidden in the air tank. That was where the crystalline AI housing was concealed. That was where the highly modified, highly illegal Buster duplicate would reside.

  To any observer, this Federacy approved, emergency breathing unit looked just like every other piece of equipment mounted in the Federacy fighters. It even displayed the metal emblem of the manufacturer, make and model. That was where the similarities ended. The emblem wasn’t riveted to the oxygen bottle. Instead it was a finely threaded cap that required a special tool for its removal. After removing the cap, a ganglia of connecters revealed how the combat AI would be connected to the frozen ship sitting on the unnamed moon.

  By the time Major Marston landed his fighter on the carrier, he had completely duplicated Buster and had the copy completely shut down. Now he needed to find a way to get it isolated from the Federacy network before he activated his own, personal combat AI.

  Sitting in his cabin on board the carrier, turning on the illicit data pad that came with the AI storage, Krag set up his sign on and encryption tables. Once he had brought the pad fully up, Marston saw an icon titled ‘Contact’. He would save that for later.

  While on board the carrier, patrolling their assigned sector of space, Marston used the illicit data pad to search for a hacker. As a member of the sedition division of the Space Force, he had access to all of the Federacy’s criminal files. It was slow and tedious, but Krag found her. She had been a brilliant child, drafted into the intelligence division of the Federacy at a young age. Sue Benton became one of the people who programmed and maintained the combat AI’s for the fighters. In her mid-twenties she was drummed out, having been caught breaking into areas she wasn’t allowed to access. She wasn’t prosecuted, just flagged. Now, she worked in a non-security company doing minimalist programming for minimal pay. The brilliant software developer lived a dreary life in the Cencore system, home of the Federacy. Just turning thirty, her professional life had reached a dead end. A single mother, with a pre-teen boy. Sue Benton was perfect. Now all Krag had to do was talk her into becoming a white-collar criminal, or deceive her into being one.

  He decided on reward and intimidation. On his next shore leave Major Marston flew his star fighter to Sue’s home world. He waited until Sue was home with her boy. Rapping on her front door, he stood ramrod straight, six foot three, blond haired, blue eyed, wide as a mountain and decked out in his dark black parade uniform. Gold major pins adorned his collar. His Sedition Ops patch displayed prominently over his name tag. Various medals, campaign ribbons and awards festooned his left breast. He clutched a portfolio in his right hand.

  When the door opened, a plain, simple woman gasped, raised the back of her hand to her mouth and visibly shook.

  “Are you Susan Mary Benton?” Major Marston questioned in his military voice, looking down at the woman.

  “Ye-ye-yes,” Sue stammered.

  “I’d like to come in. Do you mind?”

  Looking about to cry, she stepped back, opening the door wider. “Yes, no, come in.”

  Striding in, Krag looked around. He saw a small apartment. A small hall with three doors tracked off the living room. A breakfast counter separated the kitchen from the living room. A small table and chairs stood off to one side, resting on a square of tiled floor. A boy of about ten sat on the couch, wearing a headset and playing with controls in his hands. The smell of cooking permeated the air.

  Sue closed the door, hurried into the kitchen and turned off the small stove. Coming back, she almost squeaked, “What can I do for you?”

  “We require your services. We are preparing for a very dark, deep undercover operation and we need personnel that are off the books. You have the skill set that we need.”

  “I have a boy,” Sue said, walking behind the couch and putting her hand on his head. “I have a job. I just want to be left alone,” she weakly said.

  “May I sit?” Krag asked. Not waiting for an answer, he sat in an overstuffed chair positioned at right angles to the couch.

  “We’ll pay,” Krag said, tapping his Sedition Ops patch. “And you can do the project in the evenings and weekends, as long as you are done in a month.”

  “What is the project?”

  “We require an autonomous AI. One with loyalty only to its controller. And we need an interface that will allow it to seize control of other AI’s. In short, we need an AI that
is totally off the grid and able to break into and control other, weaker AI’s. I have all of the specs in here,” Marston finished, holding the portfolio out for Sue to see.

  She continued to stand behind the couch, slightly shifting, crunching her chin and mouth, watching the major like a mouse watching a snake.

  “It’s just a job. No strings attached. Do it, forget about it, take the money,” Krag tried for a firm but caring voice. He didn’t know if it worked.

  “I don’t know. I can’t get into trouble again.”

  “This won’t get you into trouble. In fact, this could go a long way towards cleaning your record.” Krag hated to lie, but he knew he had to do it.

  Wrinkles formed on her brow. “I don’t have the right equipment. I don’t have the code.”

  “Gotcha,” Krag thought. “Look, I’m the only one you will ever talk to. No one will look over your shoulder. No one will know that it was you that did the work, other than me and my superiors. After you are done, you bank your credits and go back to your life. No fuss, no muss.”

  “I’ll need the AI and access. My work won’t let me bring any gear home. It will take me at least a week to just search the code and plan the changes. No promises, though.”

  “Perfect. Here are the work assignment forms, the non-disclosure forms and the Federacy Secrecy Act.” Krag took a document-sized envelope from the portfolio, extracted a bundle of papers, stood up, walked over to the breakfast counter and set them down, all fakes, of course. But they looked very professional and intimidating. He pulled an official Federacy pen from his pocket and held it out.

  By this time, the boy had taken off his headset, climbed up to a kneeling position on the couch and was watching the interchange. Sue rubbed her hands on the front of her apron, walked over and took the pen. Having done this before, when she had worked for the Intelligence Division, she knew the procedure. Taking a big breath, she shuffled through the various documents. When she saw the payment amount, Sue almost jumped. It was more than she earned in a year. She signed all of the documents. Krag stacked them up, put them back in the envelope, retrieved the portfolio and handed it to Sue.