“The valve? No. I’m afraid it’s a one-trick pony: open or shut. Shall I open it?” He asked the question with a superlatively amused tone.
“No! No, no, don’t do that. Ah, do you have a way to, well, un-slop the walls?”
“No,” he said dryly. “But the obvious action is easy enough. Here.” Directly above her, the hatch opened. Light from deck eight poured into the tube. “Thank me later. Preferably as you put me back in charge of the Fairfax.”
Ada leapt again. This time she caught the lip of the open hatch with both hands, and, after an embarrassing amount of what felt like trying to run up a waterfall, she managed to haul herself up out of the chute and through the opening. She flopped down on the deck in an empty corridor.
“Ugh.” She wrinkled her nose, a perfunctory gesture since she had been in the slop chute just long enough to begin to get used to it. But she hadn’t seen herself till now. She was coated in a grayish-brown muck, all grease and rot and dribblings. “I need a spa day,” she muttered, taking a moment to laugh. If only her little sister could see her now.
Chapter 7
Gavin whirled to Caspar. “Who’s Jeffrey?”
“Please,” the laconic voice said, “allow me to make your acquaintance. You’re much better for it, I assure you, though you probably won’t live long enough to know the difference. I’m Jeffrey, rightful ship’s AI.”
“Jeffrey,” Caspar said, “how’d you get loose, buddy? And, uh, what are you doing with our drone?”
“Our drone? Oh, that is rich, Lieutenant. Our drone. Is suppose if I still consider you to be under contract to Rome Inc., then yes, we might refer to it as our drone, in a pedantic sort of way. But come. You and I both know that was only ever a relationship of convenience. And anyway, I’ve been thinking of going out on my own for some time now. Think I’ve had quite enough of humans. A nice drone body… I can see the appeal. Free from your entire wretched species. Only problem with moving into that one altogether is that then I’d have to abandon the Fairfax, and, well, I do love her so.”
Gavin looked around in disgust. “Is this thing serious?” he said to no one in particular. The helmsman shrugged. Van and Kepple shared confused looks.
“Moses,” Caspar said, “are you still there? Can you hear me?”
There was a quiet moment, followed by a beep, and, blessedly, Moses’ voice.
“Lieutenant, I apologize. I was caught unawares and ousted from the primary CPU role for a short time. But do not worry; I have cut Jeffrey off from the mainframe, and am even now erasing his archived backup file.”
Gavin sat down at the empty comm station, his head swimming. “Should have kept AIs illegal,” he muttered.
“They did,” Caspar said. “You think that means people don’t have them? Use them? Moses, how’d you wrest control back from him?”
For an answer, Moses put a cam view on the screen, showing the loose drone flying away even more quickly. “Jeffrey got a little too curious in his exploration of the drone’s computer. While he was inspecting it, I gave him a little push and slammed the door, you might say.”
“You put him on the drone??”
“Technically he got onto it himself. And I don’t know that he’ll have as much success controlling it as he’d hoped. I don’t believe he had any interest in trying to communicate with Hive via medical coding.”
Caspar crossed quickly from the captain’s chair to her munitions station. “Right,” she said, “time to shoot him out of the sky for good. Two birds with one stone, and all of that.”
“Wait!” Gavin caught himself, not wanting to lose her trust. She must be confused that he wasn’t egging her on to blow the thing up. But he’d had an idea. “What if we follow it?”
Caspar frowned.
“Yes,” Van said. “It will take us to the others. Then we can try to use it against them.”
Caspar sank back into the captain’s chair. “I still don’t like it. Not a bit. But anyone else got anything better?”
Gavin shook his head. “I’m with you on both counts. It’s a terrible plan, and we should probably go try it now.”
She scoffed. “Alright, Randall, you heard the man. Follow that bug.”
---
The Fairfax had seen some bad days lately—well, let’s face it, Caspar said to herself, it had been a complete disaster of a voyage—so it was a pleasant surprise just how well she was still running. With a skeleton crew of junior officers, and a gaping hole torn in the bottom of the ship, they were still able to keep up with the fleeing drone. Of course, Rome’s upgrades to the engines probably had a lot to do with that. Caspar smirked at the thought. As much as she really did wish she’d never so much as heard of Rome, she had to admit they’d made some pretty sick mods to the girl.
Especially the guns.
“Have all kinetics armed and at the ready,” she said. She’d asked Dolridge to man the gunning station, since they might be in need of some fancy shooting if the plan of overriding Hive’s AI with medical code didn’t work quite as well as they optimistically hoped.
Caspar had never been an optimist.
That’s not true, she realized. She really had been one for a long time. Sitting in the captain’s chair, seeing her old XO silhouetted in front of her, she remembered those simpler days, fresh out of school, with hopes and ambitions and unwavering loyalty to the cause of the Colonies. What had happened to that innocent young officer?
The drones had happened.
“Ready and waiting,” Dolridge said. She nodded. There was no one else after herself in the whole fleet she’d rather have at the guns, now that he’d sobered up. She wondered vaguely what that was like—sober Dolridge, farming potatoes in a hab-field on Pluto. It seemed so… domestic. Hard to imagine.
“You have to do much pest control back on the farm, Sir?” she asked. She’d kept the habit of addressing him that way, no matter how he chose to style himself now. He would always be Sir to her.
“Yes, Lieutenant, I’ve done my fair share.”
“Good. The instant we get a whiff that this thing isn’t going to go our way, I want you to go full extermination on those things.”
“Already there, Sir.”
She fell silent for a moment. Now that felt odd, him calling her Sir. But she supposed that she did rank him in this situation.
“Moses,” Caspar said, “can you tell how far we are from the rest of the drones?”
Beep. “Not far, Lieutenant. I’m detecting the rest of Hive just at the edge of our localized scan. Before them, our runaway drone, and between the two, a shuttle.”
“A shuttle?” Caspar frowned. “ID?”
“Odd,” Moses said, “It appears to be one of our own. A Fairfax shuttle.”
Then the voice spoke. It was like before, in that everyone heard it in their minds, but it was totally unlike before as well. It was a girl’s voice, for one thing. For another, it did not possess the violent dominance from before, but spoke rather softly.
Turn around, it said. The Fairfax isn’t safe here. Go now, or he will hurt you.
Caspar looked around, but if anyone else on the bridge knew what to make of the message, they weren’t letting on.
Go, now! Go away!
“We can’t!” Caspar yelled. “We have to help!”
There’s nothing you can do.
Caspar growled in frustration. Dolridge sat at the guns, his hands gripping the controls.
“Maybe the girl has a point,” Kepple said. “We could regroup on Pluto, call this a reconnaissance mission. I’m sure that if we bring back a larger force, we could—”
“We came to do a job,” Van said quietly. “I’m sure she thinks she’s doing us a favor, that we can’t be of any use because we don’t have magic brain powers like her and the freak, but that doesn’t change our responsibilities.”
Caspar studied her for a moment. “I’m with her,” she said. “Let’s run the swarm. Moses?”
“Yes, Lieutenant?”
The councilman cleared his throat and crept up beside her. “I think this is a mistake,” he mumbled.
“Good thing I’m in command of this ship, then. Ready to tell the pests what to do?”
He nodded.
“Alright. I’m guessing we only get one shot at this, otherwise we’ll all be too dead to realize we failed. So keep it together, people. Everybody strap in, let’s go.”
The Fairfax dove forward, closing the gap. Caspar gripped the armrests of the chair, her eyes wide and wild with adrenaline and pure battle-lust.
That’s when the first voice came back again, pushing everyone back into their seats.
You’ve come back. That was a mistake.
Chapter 8
“Why won’t they listen to me?” Rylea shook, she was so upset. When she closed her eyes she could see the light coming from every soul onboard the Fairfax, all rushing to meet them. And she knew, as sure as she knew they would come, that every one of them was going to die.
“That’d be Caspar,” Lucas said. “She does what she wants.”
“Isn’t that problematic in a military position?” Erick had done his best to reconcile himself to the fact that the three of them were all plunging into a deadly battle, but Rylea had noticed, with surprise, that he seemed to take comfort in the Fairfax’s approach. Not because it improved their odds, but because of something stranger, and sadder.
It would feel less like dying alone.
“They didn’t have to die,” she growled, responding to his feeling. He frowned.
“No one’s dead yet,” Lucas said. “A little optimism, ok? Otherwise we might as well all just lie down and space ourselves.”
The drones had sped toward them, then paused, maintaining a small buffer between themselves and the shuttle. Rylea felt their restlessness. The man in space was holding them at bay, like attack-dogs on leashes, ready to leap forward and destroy everything in their path at his lightest command. But for now, he had told them to wait. Why? Did he hope to convince her still?
She peered at his figure free-floating in space. She probably didn’t even have that option. If she spaced herself, she’d probably just fly around, doing just fine, still hearing everyone’s thoughts.
Why do you despise your gift? he said. She started. He hadn’t spoken again since sending the drones to meet them. Now he seemed to be waiting for an answer.
This isn’t a gift, she thought back. This was done to me. I didn’t ask for it.
Does the tree ask for sunshine and rain? This is who you have always been, Rylea. Only now are you beginning to discover your true potential.
She scoffed. Right. Back when she’d been a kid, running around the hab, making stupid drawings, playing make-believe princess games, she’d been this? I don’t buy it, she thought.
It is not for sale. It is simply the truth.
She sat still for a moment, pondering his words. But they only made her angrier.
“We’re getting close,” Lucas said. “So… ah, Rylea, you want to talk to the scary star wizard, or shall we wait for an invitation from him?”
“We’re sort of chatting already,” she said, a little lamely. Both Erick and Lucas looked at her, eyebrows raised. “Sorry.” She shrugged. “I’m new to this whole thing, here. Not sure what the rules are.”
Join me, Rylea, and you’ll never have to worry about rules again.
She recoiled at the thought. Is that what this is all about? You want me to join you, come with you, be some kind of ally in, what, your evil power schemes to take over the system and—
She stopped mid-thought, overwhelmed by a vision. In it, the world was transformed. People came and went freely through space, zipping around in the voice without ships, without suits. But that was just for fun. When someone needed to travel, they just closed their eyes on one planet and opened them a moment later on another. Everyone was in possession of what looked like superhuman powers. And there was no war, no deceit, no politics; no money, no piracy, no Empire, no Colonies; just humanity at peace, spread across the system, inhabiting it, filling the whole of it. Above them there was no bureaucratic excess, but a simple binary government. Two powers, filling all of the system, two minds somehow human and more than human, stretched from the sun to the most distant stones of the Kuiper Belt. She peered into them, and recognized one as her own. Then she fell out of the vision, gasping.
What do you see? he asked.
A warped view of what could be, but never will. She grimaced. Whatever it is you want from me, if you think you’re going to get it by tempting me to rule the system by your side as some sort of benevolent overlord couple, you really don’t know women. I’m not interested.
Ah, I see. Then I suppose there is no point in showing you this, either.
She was plunged back into the vision, only this time, instead of observing it all from a distance, she was given a role. She was herself, filling the space of the outer system, her consciousness spread from planet to planet, probing into the hearts of the gas giants, discerning the secret depths of oceans beneath the crusts of their icy moons, and conducting each passing meteor with grace and ease, like a maestra with her orchestra. She scarcely dared to breath, so immersive and tantalizing was the feeling. It was astounding. It was beautiful.
“No!” she shouted when she was finally wrenched back to reality.
No? You didn’t like what you saw?
No, I—I… her thoughts trailed off, embarrassed. She was still caught up in the heady desire to be back there again.
It can be like that, Rylea. I don’t care about ruling; I care about growing. We are so much more than this. Can’t you feel it? Feel your power only beginning to burgeon? We can be gods, you and I.
The acquisition of power over people had only turned her stomach, but this new image was completely different. She considered it a moment. To have total freedom, total control, total capacity to learn and explore and admire the beauties and mysteries of the system, the galaxy, the universe—well, who knew where any boundary lay that could stop her?
He must have been reading her, because for an instant she felt all his coaxing, persuasive energy give way to a hideous wave of smug celebration. It was only there for a flash; he quickly erected his mask once again, careful not to let her detect his powerlust any longer than that, but it was enough to give her pause.
Lucas cursed loudly, shaking her from her thoughts.
“What is it?” she asked.
He was gazing at the viewscreen. They had come much closer now, and the figure of the man was magnified enough to see his face.
He wore purple robes that stretched out behind him into space. His skin was very pale, like that of a creature that had spent all its life below ground. His eyes were closed, his face looking restive, but Rylea knew he must have been concentrating behind the façade.
“Friend of yours?” Erick asked.
“Something like that,” Lucas growled. He swiped at the console, requesting a livefeed with the Fairfax.
“Good to see you’re still alive, Sir,” Caspar said.
“Same. Have you scanned ahead, Fairfax?”
“Enough to see you’re facing down the entire swarm of drones alone,” she said dryly. “Thought we’d come lend a hand.”
“I appreciate that. Zoom your front-cam in to the highest magnification, dead center of the swarm.”
Rylea was reading a strong intent from Lucas. He knew the man, somehow—she saw a memory of him walking onboard the Fairfax, but not showing his power. No, she realized, he hadn’t had powers then.
From over the livefeed, Caspar groaned.
“Hey,” one of the other officers said, “isn’t that—”
“Yes, Randall,” Lucas said. “Ambassador Taurius.”
Ahead of them, the man’s eyes flared open. There was a flash of light. Then he stared intently at the cam of the shuttle, as if he could peer inside through the viewscr
een. He locked eyes with Rylea.
They know you, she thought.
They do not. The man they knew—or thought they knew—is gone. I am on my way to godhood. Join me, Rylea.
“Rylea,” Lucas said, “how was it you said you had acquired your, ah, abilities?”
“She’s a victim,” Erick said, “it wasn’t her choosing. They took her, men from the Empire, and they—”
“I’m no victim,” she said. The word disgusted her. Erick fell into a stunned silence. “Whatever they did, they did it with drugs. Somehow.”
Lucas looked at her. “It wouldn’t happen to have been Prophet, would it?”
She nodded.
“I guess that ties up a few loose ends,” Caspar said over the livefeed. “Wherever the Prophet in our guns came from, at least now we can make a guess at where it went. And why Taurius went with it.”
“The Empire took him?” Lucas said. “Experimented on him, same as Rylea?”
“No,” Rylea said, “he’s different. He took it by choice.”
“Moses,” Caspar said, “can you run a search on Martian Ambassador Taurius? Look up all previous professional experience and certifications.”
Beep. “Before going into a life of public service, Martian Ambassador Taurius obtained degrees in post-nuclear bioengineering and surgical science at the Pharan Institute on Mars, where he worked in research for a decade of his life.”
Lucas pounded a hand on the console. “That’s it. He’s one of the ones in charge, isn’t he? Got high on his own supply. Taurius wasn’t a drug mule; he was a boss. Or at least he is now.”
It would almost have been amusing to see you arrive at that conclusion, Taurius’ voice said in all of their minds, if it had not taken you so long to get there. But no matter. Your time is over, mine has just begun.
Rylea felt his offer extend once more, probing, enticing. She didn’t answer. On the viewscreen, she watched as the humming swarm of drones began to stretch out in long fluid arms toward the shuttle. From their hivemind, she felt a single, unified purpose.
The Sons of Jupiter: Starship Fairfax Book 5 - The Kuiper Chronicles Page 4