by Chris Ward
‘What is it?’ Jake said. The journalist was holding his flask of Stillwater in two hands like a comforting toy.
Lia nudged the remains with her blaster. ‘I’m not sure. There’s not a lot of it left. Bits of clothing, some tissue … oh.’
Caladan and Jake crowded around her as she picked the tiny human arm off the floor. No more than the length of her own hand, it was muscled and boned like that of an adult human.
With a gasp she dropped it and spun around, lifting her blaster. ‘There could be more of them. Stay alert. Don’t let them touch you. The damn things are highly infectious if they bite or scratch you. We need to get back to the shuttle and get decontaminated. This place could be crawling with nasty radiation.’
‘What’s going on, Lia?’
Lia went to the glass. With a sleeve, she wiped a space in the crud, so she could see the factory floor more clearly. Yes, there was movement, lots of it, hundreds of tiny beings scurrying back and forth like over-sized ants.
Except they weren’t ants.
In a hollow voice, she said, ‘Forbidden tech.’ She waited for her heart to stop racing. ‘I used to shut down plants like this.’
Caladan came up beside her, wringing his hand. ‘You’re not the one who just got bit. Tell me how bad this could be.’
‘This is a plant for forbidden miniaturization technology. In the GMP we used to hunt for these places and nuke them from space if possible.’ She shook her head. ‘Humans did some pretty impressive things. But for each right, there was something very wrong. This was a line that should never have been crossed.’
‘Here’s your zoom lens,’ Jake said, waving them over to a nearby terminal. He had opened a camera view that looked down on the factory floor. Lia watched as he zoomed in on a crude miniature city built out of scrap metal and swarmed over by tiny moving creatures. They looked like a mixture of humans and off-worlders, except that every one of them appeared distorted, their limbs not quite a natural length, their body shapes haphazard, overlarge or undersized heads, their facial features disfigured.
‘I feel like I’m looking into hell,’ Caladan muttered. ‘I thought I saw it on Vantar, but perhaps not.’
Lia sighed and shook her head. ‘The technology could never be perfected to be safe. Most human subspecies were developed over hundreds of years through genetics and breeding programs, and for each one that survives and flourishes today, there were ten that were failures, abomination. This is different. Miniaturization tech works on existing subjects, compressing and altering their molecular structure to reduce them in literal size. However, as you might expect, it’s deeply flawed. Each species has its naturally evolved size for a reason. Forced molecular compression tends to create chaos.’
‘Or at least, really ugly small people,’ Caladan said.
‘Back in the sweet homeland, I read a report on this once,’ Jake said. ‘After it was established that true mini-tech was impossible, all known existing forms of the technology and research into the development of more was banned, the treaty signed by the sitting governments of more than two-hundred-star systems. Praise be to the Stillwater for such sense.’
Lia gave a grim smile. ‘And after that agreement, its use spiked. We were run off our feet hunting down and closing facilities like these. The first system government to get it right had a potential weapon no one else has. Imagine what you could do if you could reduce your enemy’s army to the size of children’s toy soldiers with a single blast?’
Caladan had gone back to the window and was peering down at the factory floor. ‘What are they doing down there?’
Lia grimaced. ‘Surviving. I’d guess those are what are left of the captured test subjects.’
‘But it doesn’t look very organized. Shouldn’t they be in cages or something?’
Lia waved her blaster at the remains by the wall. ‘I’m getting the feeling that I blasted one of the scientists. It looks like the facility got overrun, and the technology turned on its masters.’
‘I feel itchy,’ Caladan said, ‘and it’s pretty hard to scratch with only one arm. Fancy giving me a hand?’
Lia rolled her eyes. ‘Rub it on the wall.’
‘I find your kindness heartwarming.’
Lia grinned. ‘Alternatively, I could blast it off. Might help balance you out, make you walk straight. Seriously, though, we need to get back to the shuttle, so we can decontaminate you. The things are little living balls of bad situations waiting to happen.’
Caladan scowled. ‘Am I going to wake up tomorrow as a little one-armed runt version of myself?’
Lia smirked. ‘Much as that would be preferable to now, it’s unlikely. You’d probably just die.’
They headed back, blasters drawn in case they were attacked. The base’s original creators were clearly absent, but what level of control the miniaturized captives possessed, and what their power hierarchy was, Lia couldn’t guess at. She’d only ever been inside one such facility before and had found everyone dead. Those not killed in the vicious infighting after the scientists had lost control had gone eventually mad as the radiation involved rotted their brains.
The shuttle still sat alone in the hangar. Lia was relieved to see they had remembered to lock the hatchway door, and there was no sign it had been tampered with. Inside, they went quickly to the shuttle’s decontamination chamber. While Lia and Jake received a simple cleansing, Caladan undertook a short examination of his hand.
‘How do you feel?’ Lia asked, after the shuttle’s remote machinery had finished.
Caladan shrugged. ‘As bad as usual. I think that means I’m fine. What do we do now, other than keep our eyes open for runts?’
‘We still need fuel,’ Lia said. ‘My guess is that we were brought here by an automated transmission sequence. However, it’s unlikely we were the first. They must have put the other landed ships somewhere. Find them, and we can find a way out of here.’
Caladan frowned and nodded. He rubbed the corner of his chin exposed by the hole in his beard.
‘What?’ Lia asked.
‘Nothing. I was just thinking about something.’
‘Tell me.’
Caladan frowned. ‘Well, you said they were made with radiation. That must mean there’s a reactor around here somewhere, right?’
‘It’s probably housed in a containment chamber somewhere in the facility.’
‘And it would contain the source material used to develop monstrosities like that one that attacked me?’
‘That’s it. Why?’
Caladan lifted an eyebrow. ‘I was just wondering what might happen if it was fired into the middle of a Bareleon Helix.’
10
Beth
‘Have you made a decision yet?’ Beth circled around Harlan5, who stood in his traveling brace at the flight cabin’s rear, watching the glittering stars outside.
‘A decision? I’m a robot. I don’t make decisions. I process information, theorize possible outcomes, then pass my considerations on to my captain.’
‘And in the absence of a captain, what do you do?’
‘I keep them to myself.’
‘Under what circumstances would you reveal them?’
Harlan5’s shoulders lifted. ‘If I considered them vital information to the survival of the ship.’
Beth shrugged. ‘You’re in the middle of a hostile takeover. Don’t you think now would be a good time?’
The robot’s eyes narrowed as he appeared to consider it. Beth watched him, wondering what was going on inside his steel head. Scratched and battered as though he had spent much of his life being tossed around in the cargo hold of a pirate ship, Harlan5’s eyes nevertheless flickered with a revolving kaleidoscope of colors which suggested a certain level of mischievous. She wondered what it must feel like to have the answers to many of the questions of the universe.
‘You wish to steal my captain’s ship to join your rebellion.’ Harlan5 cocked his head. ‘Therefore, to regard this as a hostile ta
keover is something of a contradiction. Yes, it might have begun that way, but now I hold the advantage due to your group’s collective incompetence.’
‘We’re doing our best—’
‘However, I wish to rescue my captain, and I have learned certain aspects of my captain’s character. Deeply flawed it might be, but you share a common goal, that of aiding the stricken Trill System. I am unable to allow you to assume control of this ship, but I can strike a deal.’
Beth suppressed a sigh. ‘Which is?’
‘I will allow you to use this ship for the time being, but on the condition we find my captain first. After that, I will let her decide how to help you.’
Beth rolled her eyes. ‘That will take time. You know Paul would want to blast you and fly the ship manually?’
‘Of course. Which is why he is restrained in the prisoner hold until he realizes the folly of his perceived actions.’
‘I could still blast you.’
Harlan’s eyes twinkled. ‘No, you couldn’t. I activated an internal magnetism field which jams the blast mechanisms of all projectile weapons on board.’
‘There’s no such thing.’
‘Are you willing to test me?’
‘And it would mean you can’t fire back.’
‘Ah, but I have the means to switch it off and on at a moment’s thought. You don’t.’
Beth scowled. ‘So, what happens now?’
‘You agree with my request.’
‘All right. So where do we find your captain?’
‘I have set a course in pursuit of the prison ship Crampus. During the disruption your team caused to the spaceport at Ergogate, certain encrypted systems were comprised. I was about to gain access to secure information. This is a fast ship, so we should be there in a couple of hours.’
Beth stared out at the stars. This wasn’t what she had hoped for, but it was better than being dead. Davar would recover soon, and eventually the robot would free Paul. If this captain of his was as rebellious as he said, they might find themselves in a better situation than now.
As an act of defiance, she took the captain’s seat while the autopilot sent them in pursuit of the prison ship. ‘Where did you originate?’ she asked after a period of silence which made her antsy. ‘I mean, where were you built?’
‘A factory,’ Harlan5 said. ‘My manufacturer’s stamp is the Gorgo Droid Company Ltd., out of Galanth in Phevius System. Whether that is a mark of quality, my systems don’t know. I’ve gone through a few changes since then. When organic species get old, they die, but when droids get old, their memory banks get transferred into a new container.’
‘Container?’
‘You would refer to it as a body. This is my fourth or fifth, I don’t remember. I’m probably long past the scrapheap, but perhaps the captain keeps me around for entertainment value. Adapted programming is highly sought after.’
‘Adapted programming? What’s that?’
‘It’s when you have the ability to learn. An installed database has nothing on a bit of life experience, wouldn’t you think? In some systems there is a bounty on my head.’
Beth lifted an eyebrow. ‘Really?’
‘I probably shouldn’t have told you that.’
‘How much?’
Harlan5’s eyes twinkled again as though he were proud of his hunted status. ‘Enough to buy a couple of starships,’ he said. Then, with a tilting of his head, he added, ‘At least.’
Beth’s mind whirred with ideas. Two ships were always better than one, but how would she pull it off? She needed to speak to Paul, but before she could do anything, the robot stepped out of his brace and walked to the front view-screen.
‘Oh dear.’
‘What?’
‘Fighters. Heading this way. Aggressive battle formation. This is not good.’
Beth saw nothing but stars. ‘Where?’
Harlan5 pointed. ‘Here.’
Beth squinted at the section of screen he was indicating, noticing the tiniest of flickering dots. ‘How can you see what that is?’
‘My visuals are a little better than yours. Plus, the ship’s computer did a scan and an animated mock-up. It’s on the screen over your head.’
Beth looked up to see a computerized image of a couple of dozen close-range fighters moving in a battle formation, with a larger shield-ship at the front, the faster dogfighters in its wake, ready to flank an enemy after the shield-ship absorbed the brunt of its firepower. ‘They’re heading for us? That’s quite a welcome.’
Harlan5 nodded. ‘In my folly, I let out a distress signal for my captain. However, it appears their transmitters have picked up the signal, associated it with my captain, and taken it as an aggressive statement.’
Beth lifted an eyebrow. ‘So, um, you made a mistake.’
Harlan5 nodded. ‘A huge one.’
‘I thought droids didn’t make mistakes.’
Harlan’s eyes twinkled. ‘Only droids that work properly. I’m afraid I have a few fused circuits and one or two old war wounds. Plus, I associate myself with people who provide a bad influence.’
Beth couldn’t help but smile. ‘That’s too bad. What do we do?’
‘The usual three options exist: fight, flee, or surrender.’
‘Which one would you recommend?’
‘The Matilda was built as a mid-range battleship,’ Harlan5 said. ‘Her specifications were designed for hunting pirates through asteroid belts. Such a squadron of fighters would prove no match for a skilled and experienced pilot and gunner combination. I, however, am a droid. My built-in ability to stick to recognized manoeuvres would likely render us all space debris. However—’
‘What?’
‘A question remains … what piloting ability do you and Little Buck possess between you?’
‘I have a certification in starship piloting from the University of Dreen on Dove.’
‘How delightful. My programming suggests that’s not worth the virtual paper it’s written on. Have you any relevant field experience?’
‘I’ve flown a couple of planetary transports.’
Harlan5 shook his head. ‘So that rules you out. What about Little Buck?’
‘He got kicked out of piloting school for crashing two of the test ships. On a simulator. He kept breaking the landing and take-off rules to see what the simulators could do. He was pretty angry, so he stole the head trainer’s shuttle and launched it into a firestorm.’
‘On Dove?’
Beth shook her head. ‘No, on Ergogate. He set the autopilot to send the shuttle through a system wormhole. It took them a while to figure out, but when he was caught he was sent to a prison colony.’
‘And the love story ended there?’
‘What? No, he got out, freeing an incarcerated general from the Defenders of the Free, then came back for me. We escaped together.’
‘Even though you had technically done nothing wrong?’
Beth shrugged. ‘Guilty by association.’
‘The things people do for love.’
Beth rolled her eyes. ‘Let’s just clarify. I’m not his girlfriend. So what do we do?’
Harlan5’s eyes twinkled. ‘I’ve already remote-released Little Buck’s bonds. It would be best if you went and found him to make sure he makes it to the bridge without getting lost.’
‘He’s free?’
‘A necessary act to ensure the Matilda’s survival. I suggest the pair of you get strapped in. We’ll be in the middle of a firefight within ten Earth-minutes.’
‘Man, this thing is rad!’ Paul shouted, hands running over the wide computer touchscreen. On a view-screen over their heads, a 3D modeling view showed the transformation of the Matilda from a sleek elongated teardrop into an eight-armed war machine, the rear thruster pushing the ship forward, the eight maneuvering thrusters on each gun arm flaring intermittently as Paul turned the ship on the flock of incoming fighters, the hub of gun arms spinning around the Matilda’s central core.
In
the gunner’s chair beside him, Beth felt less excited than Paul looked, frowning as she worked to activate the multiple cannons on each arm. Slightly behind them, Harlan5 stood at his terminal, keeping an eye on things with the automated system, adjusting the ship’s magnetic shield, and remote-reloading the charges on the photon cannons. Sometimes she would notice his influence: if she tweaked the angle of a cannon a little too far.
‘Here they come!’ Paul screamed, punching the armrest of the pilot’s chair. ‘Come on, you scum! We’ve got fire and brimstone waiting for you. It’s payload time!’
On the main view-screens, the attacking squadron was visible now, spreading out around the shield-ship, the faster dogfighters accelerating to outflank them.
Paul hit a button on the pilot’s terminal and leaned forward. ‘This is the Miranda, you scumbags. We’re coming for you. This is your last chance to turn back before we blow your asses into dust. Are you getting me?’
‘Um, the ship’s called the Matilda,’ Harlan5 pointed out.
‘None of them turned back,’ Beth said.
‘They’re likely remote operated,’ Harlan5 said. ‘Either computerized or operated by a team inside the fueling station. That makes them more dangerous, but it will also make them reckless.’
The first shots came in from the dogfighters, the light cannon fire easily deflected by the Matilda’s shields. Beth activated the cannons pointing to their left, screaming with delight as two fighters vanished in a sudden plume of light.
‘Other side! Other side!’ Paul shouted.
More came around, larger ones part of the second wave, their guns heavier, more dangerous. Beth concentrated three of the cannons together on the same target and took out one, catching it on the side, knocking it into the path of another. Disorientated, two smaller fighters arced back to fill the formation space the others had vacated. As they swung into range, Beth blasted them too.
‘We’re halfway done,’ Paul shouted. ‘Bell’s ringing, boys. It’s home time.’
‘I’m a girl!’ Beth shouted.
‘And I’m a robot,’ Harlan5 said behind them. ‘Although my programming would like to point out my personality can be adapted to imitate both human sexes.’