Frontline sf-4

by Randolph Lalonde

  Frontline

  ( Spinward Fringe - 4 )

  Randolph Lalonde

  Randolph Lalonde

  Frontline

  Prologue

  “Sir, I have an update from our spinward operations,” announced the Vice President of Regent Galactic Operations as he pounded up the steps to the President's communications center. The office overlooked the city of New Versailles. The Skylink Building dominated the vista, its pointed half circle shape and smooth white and blue surface reflecting the lights of the city surrounding it.

  The Regent Galactic complex was the only structure that out did it for size in the expansive forest of skyscrapers. Even through the rain the billions of lighted windows glimmered and sparkled like gems set in a forest of black quartz. Above the city a network of speeding personal air vehicles criss-crossed and wound around the larger structures like a luminescent nest of shifting wire.

  The closest moon was partially eclipsed by the Kraken, stamping a reflective half octagonal shape atop the circular red moon as it hovered above offloading and taking on millions of passengers. Workers from freshly taken territories and business people who were returning home after arranging the utilization and resale of land and resources. All in all, it was an average evening in New Versailles, a city that pretended at being a club and art mecca but actually served as the secondary headquarters of the mighty Regent Galactic Corporation.

  With his hands crossed behind his back, clad in a relaxed fit, straight cut business suit, President Paolo Weir looked into the bustling sky. “It's one in the morning Lowrey.”

  Lowrey Cartwright ignored the objection, running his hand over his perfectly cut blond coif. It was cut in the square, pure unisex style that was popular just a week before. His suit fit loose in the elbows, tight at the wrists and baggy in the knees, a design straight off the fashion runway the month before. “We have no contact from Collins and our intelligence tells us that the Holocaust Virus is just now reaching the core worlds.”

  “It's not like Collins to go dark without an explanation. We can assume he's dead or on the run. Put a warrant out for him.”

  “Gabriel Meunez closed our remote connections to all our assets in his area before disappearing. Our intelligence says he's on his way to activating a Vindyne asset that was never entered into record.”

  “I'm ignoring you Lowrey.”

  “Jacob Valance has taken possession of the Triton and our ears there reported that Wheeler was killed by his destruct device.”

  “Is that all our ears aboard the Triton have to say? What about the Earth Security Codes?” asked President Weir in a quiet, tightly controlled tone.

  “Our ears aboard Triton have gone quiet.”

  “Does Citadel know?”

  “They do.”

  “What did they say?”

  “I tried to speak to them personally, to get a read on what their intentions were now that we've completely lost control of the Triton.”

  “And?”

  “They're pulling back from the bargaining table. Our proposal for an alliance with the Sol system and Citadel has been denied, they sent us the documentation a few minutes ago.”

  “What are they going to do about Triton?”

  “I don't know.”

  “So you're telling me that a two trillion dollar ship is just out there with no one from our company aboard and she's being captained by someone with several billion dollars worth of research and development in his body. How did Wheeler lose the Triton? ”

  “We don't know.”

  “Well, it won't happen a second time. I get the sense that mister Meunez and Hampon won't let it go. They may not have time to go after Valance themselves but if the hidden asset they're retrieving is what I think it is then they might not have to.”

  “Do you know what they're bringing out of storage?”

  “Their framework copy of Wheeler.”

  “How would that help? The original didn't do the job.”

  “The original was a twisted sociopath. Collins went to great pains to correct personality flaws when he crafted the personality imprinted on the copy. I wouldn't be surprised if Wheeler the second became very important in that sector. Still, I'll be happier when they've taken Triton back and have Valance in custody. The scans we have of him are good but there are still some questions we can only answer with a series of biopsies.”

  “We're close to developing similar technologies independently. I'm starting to think all the Vindyne assets are too much trouble. We're way over budget on the whole endeavour.”

  “I know, I hear about it at every board meeting. Meunez isn't making things easier by blocking our access to our military forces out there. He's left Hampon in direct control, now we have to channel our orders through him and he's not responding to our requests for direct communications.”

  “Our most recent intelligence confirms that they're forming their own army. I don't think we can keep that from the board of directors for much longer.”

  President Weir pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes tightly. “I know. Even a private militia is trouble.”

  “The latest numbers put the Order of Eden forces at seven million, all armed with Regent Galactic gear,” Lowrey corrected quietly.

  “What?” Weir snapped.

  Tonight it was all bad news, and Lowrey knew it was just a matter of time before he presented the item that would set the normally level headed company President off. “You should see the recruitment materials, they're convincing. The Holocaust Virus makes the whole thing worse. It's not what mister Meunez told us it would be.”

  “How bad is it?”

  “The infected artificial intelligences are operating under a kill order, killing any human not listed with the West Watch or its parent organization, the Order of Eden.”

  “How many?”

  “Forty three solar systems have been infected so far, the number of dead are beyond anything we've seen.”

  “How many people has this thing killed Lowrey?” urged the President, fear plain on his face.

  “Early numbers put the fatalities past the nine billion mark.”

  “Nine billion?” he burst wide eyed, taking a step back. “That's half! Half of all the people in forty five solar systems! Collins said everyone would have a chance to surrender! That only some artificial intelligences would kill!”

  Lowrey's hands were shaking, he was sweating. When he heard the news he hoped the numbers were wrong, that the President would have some corrective data that would reduce them, that he knew something no one else did. From the older, more wizened and educated man's reaction he could tell that there was no corrective data, the horror was real, the holocaust was happening. Their customers were being slaughtered and Regent Galactic had enabled the people responsible. “I have family in that sector,” he whispered, blinking back tears and trying to keep his jaw from chattering.

  “Then I suggest you pull yourself together, pay the one hundred thousand dollars per person the Order of Eden demands to protect them and hope they survived the initial wave of attacks. Do we have any intelligence on what the Eden Fleet is doing?”

  “They're headed coreward sir, striking major defence installations and disabling major passenger vessels. We can't discern a pattern to their attack, it's like they're striking on their own.”

  “So Collins is really gone then. He'd never let them off the leash.” President Weir snapped his fingers and a thickly padded chair rose out of the floor. He sat down slowly and stared out over the city silently.

  Lowrey tried to be quiet, to read the other man's expression. He'd never seen him like that, just sitting there, pondering. There was more coming. More answers, more solutions, there had to be. Something had to be done to
stop the wave of destruction, to save lives, to save his career. The city outside was like an entirely different world, one oblivious to the terrible truths they were facing.

  Silence hung thickly in the large office and it was with no small effort that Lowrey cleared his throat and asked; “what are we going to do?” in a wavering voice.

  “Tomorrow we inform the board that the Order of Eden has splintered. We have to force the perception that they are not a division of this company and that we didn't fund the development of the Holocaust Virus. Everything has to rest on the Order of Eden and the personnel we brought on from Vindyne. Gather evidence.”

  “Most of the evidence eventually points to us.”

  “Then destroy it!” The President snapped so harshly that Lowrey flinched. “Have our best people forge evidence to the contrary and then have them killed in some anarchist group bombing! Use our news networks to paint this Order of Eden as a crazed group of zealots!”

  “The Order of Eden already owns the Hart News network, the dominant network in those sectors.”

  “Then expand our networks!”

  “It'll take time sir.”

  “If we don't cover this up they'll have us in front of a tribunal so fast legal won't know about it until the verdict is handed down. Hell, the board would probably hand us over themselves to offset any blame. Get on damage control, I'll get ready to present to them in the morning. Maybe we can make a long term war out of this and see our way to a solid profit.”

  There it was, the shining light of hope. War would please the board, leading to opportunities for effective propaganda, a profitable manufacturing boom, an increase in military recruitment and most important of all; a way to come out of the situation with his annual bonus intact. Vice President Lowrey sighed and started to put a plan together in his head. “Thank you, mister President.”

  “Oh, and one more thing.”

  “Yes sir?”

  “Buy into the Order of Eden.”

  “I will. Should I do the same for you at the same time?”

  “I sent my hundred thousand a week ago.”

  The Silkstream IV

  The paperback novel was an antique, at least in concept, and seldom seen but ever since Jason's psyche advisor told him to start reading plain text to retrain his mind to focus on one task at a time he always had one with him. The act of reading one or two pages at a time, being forced to flip pages, they were all pacing and concentration devices. Old science fiction and fantasy novels were his favourite, with murder mysteries holding a close third place. The more noir and cheesy the more he enjoyed them.

  Lacy Campbell was standing in the rain, her bright red silk gown was soaked through. She looked down the sight of her. 35, blinking water out of her eyes and grinned Cheshire like. “Thought you could get away with the brass ring, didn't ya hon?”

  The dinner jacket weighed on Carl Smith like a lead blanket. There was no hiding it, so he just stared back, his shoulders drooping like over cooked pasta. It wasn't what he'd pictured when he headed out to the big cityyears before. In Jersey he was small time, the takes were slim and he wanted more. The dock boys didn't cut you in large if your name didn't sound Sicilian. The rackets block to block were worse, so when he headed for the Big Apple, where the big timers played, he thought he might find his way into some big fish's pocket, or some well to do dames' bedroom. The last thing he pictured was this; being held up at the wrong end of his own gun by a tall blond stunner. Boy oh boy, this dame sure isn't from Jersey either. He thought to himself as he eyed her from head to tow. “I'll give it to ya. Just let me walk on outta here.”

  “I've seen a lotta men walk out Carl, maybe I'll let ya go out of habit, or maybe I'll just plug ya and find the rock myself.”

  He had one chance, and he intended to make good on it. Carl let the big diamond slide down from where he had tucked it into his sleeve and drop into his hand. “Here it is Lacy,” he said as he flicked it towards her.

  She pulled the trigger-

  The Silkstream IV shook violently and alarms sounded. Jason dropped the paperback and looked at the main status display. It looked perfectly normal. Jason checked the secondary display and caught sight of his command unit. Alarms were sounding there as well, the back of his hand was flashing red, trying to prevent a forced download from the Silkstream.

  He folded an artificial flap of skin away from the back of his hand and didn't recognize the names of the files being added. “What is this? Worst fear day?” he muttered to himself as he pulled a tool from the maintenance belt hanging off the other seat. With no hesitation he pressed the end of the energizer against his command console and turned it up to full. “Oz! Get up here!” he called out as he activated the tool. Energy burst into his command and control unit and burned the flesh it was built into. The nerves there were less sensitive, but he kicked his feet and bit his lip at the deep burning sensation as the tattooed circuits fried. “Last time I get that installed,” he said as he shoved the small emitter rod back into the tool belt.

  Oz rushed to the cockpit and looked around. “What are you doing?”

  “I think there's some kind of software attacking the ship.”

  “You had to burn yourself to figure that out?”

  “Strange download happening on my command unit, it was already past my security systems, you should take yours off just in case,” he flexed his fingers and was relieved that he hadn't done any nerve damage. The pain was already down to a persistent throb. A high pitched whining filled the cockpit. “Can you check that?” He shouted.

  Oz turned and ran into the main cabin as he dropped his own command and control unit on the floor. “It's the hyperspace emitters! They're overheating!”

  “What? They're operating at half tolerance!” Jason replied over his shoulder as he tried to access the main computer.

  “I have to disconnect the main power lines. Manual cutoff isn't working.” Both the travellers could feel the small ship rumble as Oz activated the emergency deceleration thrusters at full burn.

  “Do it! There's something blocking me from accessing main systems.”

  Oz waited for the shuttle's speed to reduce below the speed of light, then for a while longer as he listened to the engines roar, wondering if anyone had put such pressure on those systems before. When they had slowed down enough he yanked the main power lines leading to the particle emitters. Energy arced between the couplings and he was once again thankful for the insulation built into his black vacsuit.

  Outside the cockpit window the distortion from hyperspace travel and simultaneous wormhole travel dissipated and Jason saw nothing but stars.

  “Okay, looks like we're in the clear. The power plant shows normal. It was outputting between four and five times what the emitters could handle,” he said as he walked up to the cockpit. “Good thing particle dispersion was equal or we would have been torn to shreds. Any luck with the computer?”

  “I managed to restrict the AI from main systems, good thing too. It was after life support.”

  “What? Is that some kind of security backup?”

  “No, our AI is infected. Do you have any kind of AI on your command and control unit?”

  “Just a predictive filter, I don't play well with artificials.”

  “A good thing too. This is some kind of virus that nests in the emotional center of artificial intelligences. Good thing the AI was an afterthought on the Silkstream. Our hyperspace emitters are blown though.”

  “That'll slow us down some.”

  “About an eighth the speed, maybe less. We'll never make it in time to rendezvous with the Triton. ”

  “Where did we pick up the virus?”

  Jason looked for it in the transmission logs and found it. “It's from the Enreega system.”

  “It chose a good time to rear its ugly head.”

  “Well, that's just the thing. This virus is different, it sort of convinces an AI that it's an improvement to its software and starts making modification
s, but if there's no AI the virus doesn't have anything to do and it just waits for the opportunity to transmit itself to another system.”

  “I wonder why it took so long for it to get to this AI.”

  “That's just the thing,” Jason said quietly. “I just turned the AI on a couple hours ago.”

  Oz just stared at Jason for a moment. “Sometimes I think we'd be better off if we were still drawing on cave walls and clubbing each other over the head for women and food.”

  Oz sat down in the copilot's seat and looked out into the stars as Jason checked the ship status. The only sound was the creaking of the outer hull as the hyperspace particle emitters cooled.

  Jason noticed his friend's silence after a few minutes. “You all right?”

  He nodded, still looking out into the cluster of stars in the distance. “Did that virus transmit to the Sunspire?”

  Jason didn't have to check, he already knew the answer. “It did.”

  “Do you think they could catch it in time?”

  “Do you want my honest answer?” Jason asked quietly.

  “Always.”

  “If it got to the quantum core there's not much chance. The defence AI would be the first to try and fight it off, but this virus would prevent it from warning anyone about the problem. That's probably why my command unit wasn't attacked until now, it was silenced while my AI was resisting infection.”

  “I hope they don't lose anyone. If they're smart they'll blow an EMP in the engine room.”

  “I don't think Trajenko…”

  “You're right. She wouldn't make that kind of sacrifice, she's never seen what a rogue AI can do.”

  Jason just left him alone, there wasn't much he could do or say to help just then, and he knew it.

  “They're going to think we did it,” his friend stated quietly.

  Jason was surprised the thought occurred to Oz first. “I'll have to find out who made this. With the AI on this ship deleted and the virus in quarantine, I might be able to work it out. I'd rather have more processing power though.”