Jethro 3: No Place Like Home

by Chris Hechtl

  “Ah,” the Admiral replied as the lift jerked softly to a halt. The doors opened. A group of crewmen went to enter but then stopped when they recognized the Admiral. Swiftly they stepped aside, making a hole as they straightened to attention and saluted.

  “Carry on,” the Admiral said, saluting as he walked past.

  “Recon, Cadre...it seems the classification is a bit of a paper tiger,” Sprite said with a grin in her voice.

  “Perhaps,” the Admiral said.

  “I'm scanning the files now,” Sprite said, brushing past Defender. The other AI hesitated. She copied the file and then scanned it. Slowly she whistled in awe.

  The Admiral winced. He knew Sprite was insatiable when it came to a secret. She, like all smart AI, loved to ferret them out. She had the programming to curtail it, but apparently that had been partially suborned by the release of the data.

  “Let's see the suit,” Irons said.

  “Aye, sir, this way to the armory,” Jethro said with a nod.

  ---( | ) --- ( | )---

  In the armory the Admiral nodded to Ox and Riley. Both Marines tried to get to their feet but he waved them back down. “As you were. Carry on even. Sergeant...” He paused as Sprite gave him an ID. “Riley. I need to see Sergeant McLintock's suit,” he said, motioning to Jethro.

  “Sergeant... oh, Jethro,” the human said, blinking. He looked over to the Admiral's shoulder to Jethro and then shrugged. “Sure. Do you want me to unpack it or just bring you the crate sir?”

  “Unpack it. And secure the fitting room. We'll be in there for a few hours,” the Admiral said, waving to the room.

  “Yes, sir,” Riley replied as he nodded and punched up the orders. “It will be a minute or two. I put it in the back when she started getting buggy.”

  “No problem,” the Admiral said. He turned to Ox. “I'm glad to see a Tauren on board.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  “Are you...?” Sprite fed him a brief bio. He nodded. “Ah, from Port a Prince. You have my sympathies, Sergeant Ox.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “Did anyone tell you I ran into some Taurens on Kiev 221? Some remained behind in Antigua,” the Admiral said.

  “Yes, sir, I know. I met Gwen and Riff. Torg was unfortunately killed when we retook Prime,” Ox said.

  The Admiral sighed softly. “I'm sorry again son. War.”

  “I know,” Ox rumbled. “By all accounts he died a hero. He gave his life to save the others,” he said.

  “A good man. I remember him briefly. I wish now I'd had the chance to get to know him better,” the Admiral said. “I'm taking a force to Antigua; do you wish to return?”

  “No sir,” Ox said, indicating Jethro. “My place is here,” he said.

  “Very well,” the Admiral said, nodding as he looked at the panther. “I see you make good comrades. I'm glad.”

  “War brothers, sir,” Ox said.

  “Indeed.

  ---( | ) --- ( | )---

  When the armor was up Jethro followed the Admiral into the fitting compartment. “Shut the hatch, Sergeant,” the Admiral ordered as he studied the suit. It was hanging in pieces from the various robotic arms in the room. There was a mechanical air of expectancy to the taboo. Also a smell of grease and hydraulics.

  Expert eyes studied the suit. “Recon I thought at first, but you are correct, it is a Cadre suit. Recon Cadre,” the Admiral said. He touched the back plate and then traced his fingers over the weld lines. “It looks like someone took the antimatter power pack out and replaced it with a micro fusion reactor. Any trouble running it?” he asked.

  “Now that you mention it, no, sir. I thought that was because Firefly...excuse me, sir, Commander Firefly,” Jethro said, looking up in apology. Firefly wasn't snippy about being talked about so he didn't respond. “Worked with Lieutenant Veber, Ox, and Riley to get it sorted out.”

  “A lot of hands went into restoring it?” the Admiral asked, running his hands over the suit. Jethro felt odd, like data was moving, swimming around him.

  “Some sir. She was in a sorry state I'm afraid to say. My ancestors tried to use her and she seemingly fried. So they cannibalized her for parts over the years. She was little more than the reactor, shell, and main components when we got to her,” he said. He flicked his ears as the data solidified. He could now see it on his HUD.

  “Sir, the data...” he asked.

  “I see it too,” Sprite said softly, to him alone.

  “No, it's not me. Your suit is reacting to my presence,” the Admiral replied. He paused with his hand on the breastplate. “It is the AI.”

  “AI, sir?”

  “I think you know it has an AI right?”

  “Yes, sir. We've established that. A nanite layer embedded in the armor. It can self-repair the armor to a degree. It also linked to me.”

  “It brought the suit the rest of the way for you. And it's running the cloak and reactor. The AI forms the bridge between you and the suit, interpreting your actions for you. It hasn't spoken to you though?” he asked, turning his head to look at the panther.

  Jethro shook his head no. “Once, sir, but most of the time I get...I don't know, feelings. Emotions that aren't my own. Mood swings sometimes.”

  The Admiral smiled. “Your body isn't quite your own anymore young man. I know. It never was; you just never knew.”

  “I looked into synthetic biology. I know about the things growing inside me,” Jethro said. “I know they are computers.”

  “Organic computers,” Sprite said. “Fascinating,” she said, looking at the Admiral.

  Irons for his part merely nodded.

  “I'm guessing that the AI in the suit is interacting with the computers in me when I jack in and suit up. I was getting urges to suit up a lot. And well,” he shifted uncomfortably, “to retake my ancestors’ surname,” he said.

  “I see,” the Admiral replied quietly. “Dreams?”

  “Sometimes, sir. And well,” Jethro related the incident when the suit went rogue. The Admiral listened impassively.

  When the panther stopped he frowned and then sent a ping to the suit. It responded, but an echo came from the panther. Then he felt data stream from the suit to him. It was incoherent. But there was an underlying thing he felt, an emotion. Relief. Interest. Joy. That was dampened by an attentiveness.

  “The AI isn't so much in the suit alone. It is also in you. Had anyone else tried to use your suit it would have killed them or blown up.”

  “I...know now, sir,” Jethro said.

  “The link. It is a symbiotic link between you and its parts. When you are together and in synch you are as one. Nearly unstoppable,” the Admiral said.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Bast,” the Admiral said softly. “Come on, come out of there,” he said.

  “Bast?” Sprite said, interested. She felt a stirring in the suit and in Jethro. Then a violent upheaval as the cat's implants kicked her out.

  “What the hell?” she said as Jethro sank to his knees clutching his head and groaning.

  “What just happened?” the Admiral asked.

  “The AI. It kicked me out,” Sprite said. She sent a ping to Jethro and to the suit. She felt a response, a cat's hiss and snarl. “Well!”

  “What?” the Admiral asked.

  “See for yourself Admiral. It's not fully sapient. It's...a cat. A black cat. A pissed black cat.”

  The Admiral sent the ping manually and then frowned at the response. He could see yellow eyes briefly before it withdrew.

  “Sergeant,” he said, placing his hand on the Sergeant's shoulder.

  “Warning Admiral, nanites detected,” Proteus said, flashing his HUD red.

  Irons frowned and looked down. He could see the tiny things, almost like ants swarming over the panther. They followed his various systems, his circulatory and nervous system. They came from the lumps in his back the Admiral noted.

  “I have one hell of a headache, sir,” Jethro said.

&nbs
p; “Bast,” The Admiral said.

  “The AI?”

  “Yes,” the Admiral said. “Bast, short for Bastet, goddess of cats.” He turned to see the helmet's eyes glowing yellow. He frowned. Nanites were swarming in the suit angrily.

  “I think someone is pissed,” Sprite said. “A pissed-off kitty,” she said.

  “Can it Sprite; this isn't the time,” the Admiral said, frowning. He studied the suit and then the young man. “When was the last time you interfaced with the suit?”

  “It's been a couple of weeks, sir. I've been off the ship for part of that time. On the prison ship. The liner. We're being assigned there for the journey back to Pyrax I believe.”

  “I see,” the Admiral said. “Are you okay?”

  “I've been worse, sir,” the panther said, getting to his feet.

  “Okay,” the Admiral said. “Put the suit on,” he said.

  “Sir?”

  “Do it, Sergeant,” the Admiral said. “We need to reinitialize the AI. Bastet is there, but she lost some of her memory. Part of that is in you. She's confused and angry. The longer you two are together the more time she has to become integrated.”

  “So, I have to live in the suit, sir?” Jethro asked, sounding aghast.

  Irons chuckled softly. “You'd be surprised. When Cadre first initialized, they lived in their suits almost nonstop for a year or longer. They never went anywhere without their suits, even on leave. It was a pain in the ass for the spooks,” he said, mouth twisting in a wry smile. “They hated it.”

  “Must have been something to see...and explain.”

  “Yes. Sergeant, by now you know part of the AI is inherited in you. And I'm guessing you are wondering why.”

  “Some, sir. How is right up there on the list too,” Jethro said. “I figured part of that out, but not all.”

  “The Cadre isn't easy to explain. I'm not sure I can or should explain it all right now. But we can get Bastet under control. Get her back on the team. You'll have to suit up daily at least to help her reassemble her mind.”

  “Aye, sir,” the young panther said, nodding. He stripped off his BDU and then put his arms out. “I'm ready.”

  The Admiral watched as the panther stepped in the circle and then initialized the suit-up procedure with a signal through his implants. He noted that signal, but also noted that the arms were swinging into action almost a tenth of a second before the panther sent the signal. Either the computer had anticipated the order or Bast was up to her usual tricks.

  The frame was assembled on the panther and then piece-by-piece the armor bolted on. When he was done he stretched, checking the systems as he had been trained.

  “All set, sir. She's not balky,” Jethro said.

  “Good. Now, hang in there. This could get rough,” Irons said, putting his hands on the suit's shoulder pauldrons. He sent the initiate signal and then opened his cadre files. Programs flashed out and through his link into the AI.

  ---( | ) --- ( | )---

  Jethro felt the data briefly before a wave of confusion and then eagerness flooded his implants. He closed his eyes tightly as pain ripped up his spine and into his head. Grimly he clenched his teeth, but a slight whimper escaped as he exhaled.

  “Almost there,” Irons said distantly. “Another few minutes and then reintegration,” he stated.

  Jethro felt like he was being crushed, like his mind was being torn apart. His head pounded, aching like a drum. He tried to nod but couldn't. He realized he could barely breathe; he couldn't move at all. Panic briefly hit him, and then he felt something comfort him. A distinctly feminine touch, like a hesitant lover. It wrapped around him and purred. Fingers gently soothed him, touching his mind, easing the pain away. He felt the phantom lover caress his shoulders and then rub cheeks with him. He slowly opened his eyes but no one was there.

  “She's...well, not finished, but better. Still subsapient unfortunately,” the Admiral said. He rubbed his own temples. The Cadre suit had kicked him out when his transmission had finished. It was very animalistic, primal.

  “You've got a long road ahead of you, Sergeant,” the Admiral said. “Recovery may not be fully possible for her. She's lost a lot, and I'm not certain it will ever be fully restored.”

  “Yes, sir,” Jethro said feeling strange. There was another mind inside him now, feline. It stared at him for a moment and then yawned. He had the distinct impression she was tired and bored and wanted a nap. He agreed; he badly wanted one now.

  “Sir...” he swayed a bit. The AI caught and stopped the motion.

  “Rest,” the Admiral said. “Integration will take time. You'll need to sleep in the armor tonight at least. Take the suit with you and sleep with it on,” he said.

  “Aye, sir,” Jethro said, now wondering how he was going to explain that to the bear.

  “I'll let your commanding officer know and Captain Pendeckle. They'll need to block out time for you to be in the suit. Fortunately, you can be in it on duty. That should help. Though you may get some looks about it.”

  “I'll ignore it, sir.”

  “Good for you,” the Admiral said as Sprite wordlessly put up a request for his time. He sighed. “And unfortunately, I've got to go. I've left you a document to go over. Once you read it, it should destruct. So read it carefully,” the Admiral said.

  “Aye, sir,” Jethro nodded, stubbornly clinging to consciousness despite his heavy eyelids. A yawn escaped him.

  “Rest. I'll let Riley and the others know,” the Admiral said. He helped ease the cat down to the deck. Jethro's consciousness faded. He felt the suit move, but it was a distant thing, unimportant now.

  ---( | ) --- ( | )---

  The Admiral watched the suit curl up in a classic cat circle as he fought a smile of amusement. The tip of the tail flicked briefly. He turned and exited the compartment.

  Sergeant Riley looked up from behind the counter. The Tauren was absent. “Sergeant Jethro needs to rest. The suit AI is integrating with him more. So don't disturb him.”

  “Aye, sir,” Riley replied, bobbing a nod.

  “And let him sleep himself out. I'm leaving orders for him to wear the suit as much as possible. That will let Bastet form her relationship with him. Impression they call it,” the Admiral said.

  “Bastet?”

  “The suit AI,” the Admiral said in a tone that bode no more questions. Riley nodded. “Don't ask, classified.” Riley frowned but then nodded again.

  “Sir, can we make more suits like his?”

  “No,” the Admiral replied. “Not anytime soon. That's even beyond my abilities for now,” he said with a shrug. “So take good care of it and Jethro. Don't ever let anyone else try to use the suit. It will self-destruct if that happens,” he said.

  Riley's eyes widened. “I'll make certain that never happens, sir,” he said.

  “Good man. Carry on,” the Admiral said, waving as he left.

  He waited as he stepped over three knee knockers before curiosity for once got the better of him. “Nothing to add Sprite?” he asked.

  When there was no response he frowned. “Commander?” He stopped, now concerned. “Lieutenant Commander Sprite report,” he barked. He hit the initiate key on his HUD.

  “I'm awake,” Sprite said. “Just assimilating all that. I couldn't see what you did. Defender blocked some of it, so I couldn't copy the files.”

  “They are encrypted,” the Admiral said.

  “I see. So what did you do?”

  “I reset Bast. She's now impressing onto the Sergeant. So far so good.”

  “So far so good?”

  “Yes. He's alive,” the Admiral replied, now moving out again.

  “Oh,” Sprite replied. “That's helpful,” she said thoughtfully.

  The Admiral nodded. “And about all you are going to get, Commander. Even I have my limits. Just be glad you witnessed it, and...”

  “And don't ever tell anyone. Or comment about it. It is under the strictest of classification seals,” Defe
nder interjected.

  “What he said,” the Admiral sighed.

  “I'm not certain I know what I saw,” Sprite replied dryly. “But, in this instance, I'll take your word for it,” she said.

  Chapter 17

  The Admiral shook hands with Captain Mayweather when they had made good on their drive and structural repairs. None of the ships were anywhere near what he considered combat ready, but at least they were functional as ships once more. The crews were still at work tearing into them, making repairs as needed.

  “I'm proud of you, Captain, you've taught your people well,” he said with a smile of approval.

  “Thank you, sir. And thank you for the parts. I'm sure Harris on Damocles will finally appreciate getting a hyperdrive. Maybe next time we can bring him along for the ride.”

  “Maybe,” the Admiral replied with a small smile. He had stuffed the ships with parts. He was tired, in need of some downtime, but feeling good about the situation. Things were definitely looking up.

  “So, what now, Admiral?” she asked. “You know I've got orders from a certain civilian authority to bring you back to Pyrax,” she said with a wink.

  “And I can guess from who, Governor Walker. Fortunately, he isn't in your chain of command,” the Admiral replied mildly. They both exchanged a brief smirk. “Consider them countermanded, Commander,” he said.

  She nodded in reply.

  “Anything else?”

  “Well, it's election year,” she said, smiling broadly now. “Governor Walker has his hands full since he for some reason has rather poor poll numbers right now,” she said.

  “I wonder why,” Sprite said dryly. “Competition? Not that anyone wants the job,” she said in disgust.

  “Surprisingly, station Governor, and current Lieutenant Governor Enrique Fernando has thrown his hat in the ring. Officially we can't endorse or back him, but he's got my vote,” Renee said with a shrug. “Better the devil you know than the slime ball currently in office.”

  “Trading one for the other. Gee where have I seen that before?” Sprite asked. “I'm surprised he's sticking his neck out though. The way politics are played in Pyrax, he's liable to get it chopped off,” she said.