The Meridian Ascent (Rho Agenda Assimilation Book 3)

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The Meridian Ascent (Rho Agenda Assimilation Book 3) Page 8

by Richard Phillips


  With Dgarra and Jennifer in the aft, working on shipboard modifications in the engineering bay, he and VJ were alone. Something about her closeness robbed him of speech. He was having a hard time breathing.

  “I did it,” she said softly.

  Her voice carried a mellifluous quality that had been missing before, as if the sound had been produced by real vocal cords instead of simulation. Raul swallowed hard, working to recover his composure.

  “Did what?”

  Ever so slowly she reached out to caress his cheek with the palm of her left hand. It felt warm and soft, wonderfully human. Her lips parted ever so slightly, and Raul had to fight down the urge to lean in and kiss them. The twinkle in her eyes told him that she knew what he’d been feeling. When she spoke, he knew in his soul that she was telling the truth.

  “I’m not a simulation anymore, Raul. I made myself real.”

  It took him a full five seconds to process the meaning behind her words. When he did, he reached out to touch her, gently caressing her cheek with his right hand. As his fingers approached her mouth, the feel of her warm breath startled him, but not as much as when she gently kissed his palm.

  “My God,” he said. “It’s really true.”

  “You did what?”

  Jennifer stared in disbelief at VJ before turning on Raul.

  “And you . . . you allowed this?”

  “I did what needed to be done,” said VJ. “I downloaded my consciousness from the ship’s neural net into my new human form.”

  “I don’t know what your body is,” said Jennifer, feeling her blood pulse in her temples, “but it’s definitely not human.”

  “And yours is? How dare you lecture me on what it means to be human, you Altreian altered—”

  “Whoa,” said Raul, as Dgarra stepped to Jennifer’s side. “Everyone take it down a notch. That’s an order.”

  Jennifer felt as if she had been slapped in the face, her fury rising to match VJ’s. Unconsciously, she reached over her shoulder for her war-blade, only to find that she wasn’t wearing it. Aware of how odd her motion looked, she massaged the back of her neck in a weak attempt to disguise her original intent.

  Fighting down the urge to yell at Raul, Jennifer forced herself to center, pulling forth the memory of a deep meditative state and lowering her heart rate from eighty-six beats per minute to sixty-seven. Considering her augmentations, it was still surprisingly high, but at least she was once again capable of logical thought. The slight squeeze of Dgarra’s big hand on her left shoulder helped calm her further.

  VJ surprised her by apologizing. “I’m sorry. I should have informed you of what I was doing.”

  “We aren’t angry with what you’ve done,” said Raul before Jennifer could say anything different. “It’s just that you kept what you were working on secret from us.”

  Damn right, Jennifer thought. What the hell else are you hiding?

  “Well, VJ,” said Dgarra, his deep voice a comforting rumble, “perhaps you can enlighten us on the extent of your self-upgrade.”

  VJ flashed him a grateful smile, then backed away two steps and spun in a slow circle, almost as if she were performing at the end of a catwalk. As she came to a halt, facing her crewmates and captain, she took a deep breath, and Jennifer was surprised to see her chest rise and fall as she did so.

  “My body is almost human. I have human muscles beneath human skin. The blood that flows through my vessels is red, although it carries an upgraded variant of the nano-machines that course through Jennifer’s and Raul’s veins. My organic heart beats, and I can feel sensations, including pain.

  “My brain is a biosynthetic neural network with embedded communications crystals that are quantum entangled with elements of a new interface to the Meridian Ascent’s neural net. My tongue, mouth, and throat can eat and drink, but my gastrointestinal system and associated organs have been replaced with a matter disrupter-synthesizer capable of providing my nanites with the materials to repair damaged body parts or regrow those that have been destroyed.”

  Jennifer felt her throat tighten but managed to succinctly state her question. “So your consciousness simultaneously resides in the ship’s neural net and in this body’s brain?”

  VJ slowly shook her head, her blue eyes locking with Jennifer’s brown ones. “No. When I said I made myself real, I didn’t mean I made a body that I can inhabit or not, depending on my preference. My continued existence depends upon my body. I can die as surely as you can. More importantly, I am no longer tied to this starship. If I need to live in a world beyond the reach of this ship’s stasis field, I can do so. And if the Meridian Ascent’s neural net shuts down, I will continue to function as a quasi-human being.”

  “And your internal stasis field?” asked Dgarra.

  “Gives me the same capability that the external stasis field backpacks provide each of you. The only difference is that, so long as I have enough matter to consume, my internal MDS will provide an unlimited power supply.”

  “You mean food?” asked Jennifer, although the question was meant only to confirm her suspicion.

  “I taste things, so I prefer good food and drink. However, my MDS is capable of processing anything I can swallow.”

  “Then why not give yourself a much larger mouth and throat?”

  “I’m not a monster, even if you choose to think of me that way.”

  As she watched the earnest look in VJ’s eyes, Jennifer thought she detected a sense of longing. Surely she was imagining the emotion, or more likely, VJ was faking it. Jennifer’s empathic abilities couldn’t have been picking up emotions from a biosynthetic brain, but that damn sure felt like what was happening.

  She suddenly felt ashamed of herself. If VJ were human, Jennifer knew that she wouldn’t be treating her this way. But because VJ was only an AI with a synthetic body, the normal rules of civility didn’t apply. At least that’s what Jennifer kept telling herself.

  The command bay had grown quiet as the others stared at her. No wonder. Jennifer could only imagine the expression on her face as conflicting waves of emotions shook her. Now, as she looked at the faces of her friends and crewmates, she could find nothing appropriate to say. She knew this silent power game. First one to speak loses. And with each passing second, the weight of their expectations pressed in on her. Even Dgarra refused to throw her a lifeline. Maybe she didn’t deserve one.

  Her soul felt as bleak and colorless as the alien chamber in which they stood. She refocused on VJ, reaching out with her mind, seeking whatever weirdness lay behind those human-looking blue eyes. And to her utter surprise, her thoughts touched VJ’s. A gasp escaped Jennifer’s lips. For a moment, she thought that perhaps she was still wearing her SRT headset, connecting with VJ through the ship’s neural net. But that was not the case. This telepathic connection was real, accompanied by an equally strong empathic link.

  There it was again, that desperate sense of longing to be accepted as a friend and an equal.

  “Do you believe me now?” VJ’s thoughts spoke in her mind.

  Jennifer blinked away the tears that tried to well up in her eyes, suddenly forced to admit what she hadn’t wanted to.

  “VJ,” she said aloud, “I’m sorry. I was being a complete ass.”

  Before any of the other crew members could respond, VJ stepped forward, threw her arms around Jennifer’s neck, and hugged her with arms that were strong yet gentle. As VJ’s “Thank you” whispered in her mind, Jennifer found herself returning the embrace.

  The universe she had come to accept had just taken strange to a whole new level.

  CHAPTER 12

  SMYTHE FORTRESS, NEW ZEALAND

  28 February

  Heather Smythe swam naked in a clear pool of water near the spot where a mountain stream created a twelve-foot waterfall, showering her with mist. She ducked under, feeling the tingle of the cold water that resisted the warmth of the summer day. Rising to the surface, she swept back her long, white-streaked brown hai
r with both hands, squeezing out the water as she did so. Mark swam up beside her, the reflection of the sunlight off his back and buttocks emphasizing the muscles that rippled beneath his bronze skin.

  God, she loved the summers in these New Zealand mountains.

  Since she and Mark rarely felt the need for sleep, they had adopted the habit of working all night and spending part of each day in the great outdoors—hiking, swimming, or jogging along the mountain trails. The joy she got from those nature jaunts reminded her of what they were working so hard to save. But more important, the outings cleansed her soul.

  When Mark leaned in and kissed her lips, she smiled and gently pushed him away.

  “Did you forget about our two o’clock meeting?”

  “No, but I was hoping you would.”

  “There’s always tomorrow,” she said, swimming back toward the spot where they’d draped their clothes over a tree branch.

  “Let’s hope so.”

  Mark’s words hadn’t been said in a serious tone, but they seemed to suck the light out of the day. Heather shivered as she pulled on her clothes.

  There was no reason for her mood to have suddenly soured. The day was every bit as lovely as it had been only moments before. They had a meeting to go to, but it was only a routine status update. The world, as messed up as it was, happened to still be free. The UFNS was doubtlessly planning to build another gateway to replace the one that she and Mark had destroyed outside of Frankfurt, but that was a problem for another day.

  Then she slid her SRT headset over her temples.

  As Mark followed Heather into the conference room, he saw Janet sitting at the round table with Jamal, Dr. Wu, Dr. Jennings, and Rob.

  Mark’s eyes were drawn to the boy, and as had become a regular occurrence, he found himself amazed at the accelerated changes in the lad. Instead of being a typical ten-year-old, Rob looked like Mark had at seventeen. He was muscular, coordinated, and had the mental development to match. It didn’t matter whether these changes had been caused by the alterations the Altreian headset had made to his brain or by the fact that he shared his mind with an alien AI named Eos. Among the four of them who had been enhanced, Rob manifested a new kind of strangeness.

  Mark pondered this. Rob’s telekinesis allowed Eos to manipulate the flow of electrons within the circuits of nearby electronic devices, giving the boy absolute control over them. In addition to controlling computing devices, he could make vending machines dispense their contents, make slot machines come up cherries, and make cameras fail to see him. Going beyond hacking in the traditional sense, Rob and Eos manipulated physics to produce their desired results.

  “What’s so important that you didn’t want to communicate it over our SRT headsets?” Heather asked.

  Janet motioned for Mark and Heather to sit down and waited until they did so.

  “Almost an hour ago, our new communications array picked up a subspace message from beyond Neptune,” she said.

  Mark felt Janet’s gaze lock with his in a look that caused him to catch his breath.

  “Jennifer is alive,” she said.

  Mark rose to his feet so quickly that he knocked over his chair. He leaned over, placing both hands on the table as shock and disbelief froze him in place.

  “What?” he yelled.

  “Please, Mark,” Janet said, “sit down and I will show you.”

  Mark righted his chair and slowly sat back down, his chest heaving as if he had just completed a hard sprint.

  “If everyone will put your SRT headsets on,” said Janet, “I will now replay her message.”

  Watching the others comply, Mark slipped his own headset into place with trembling fingers. Suddenly the world melted away around him as the recorded audiovisual message filled his mind.

  Jennifer stood before him, her shoulder-length brown hair framing a face that was leaner and harder than he remembered. She wore a black-and-purple uniform and stood inside an alien craft that he recognized from his brief glimpse of Jennifer stepping into the Rho Ship. She’d aged, but not in the same way he and Heather had during these eight years. Despite the hard experience that shone in her brown eyes, she didn’t look much older than twenty.

  Her voice startled him out of his reverie.

  “This message is for Mark and Heather. I am broadcasting this subspace message across the entire Earth, knowing that you alone possess the subspace technology to receive it. I’ve tried contacting you through my Altreian headset and managed to establish a connection with the Second Ship’s computer. Unfortunately, neither of you were wearing yours at the time. So I will schedule this message to repeat at regular intervals, in hopes that you will get it.

  “As for me, I am safe aboard the Rho Ship, which we have renamed the Meridian Ascent. The ship has a crew of four, consisting of me, Raul, an alien warrior named Dgarra, and an artificial intelligence named VJ. The Meridian is currently located beyond the orbit of Neptune, but I hope to establish direct contact with you prior to returning to Earth. In a few days from now, we will maneuver the ship closer so that we will be within range to perform detailed scans of the planet.

  “If you get this message, please try to establish a subspace communications link to this ship. I have embedded detailed time-synced coordinates that should allow you to connect to us. Barring that, I need one of you to wear your Altreian headset at all times so that we can link through the Second Ship.”

  Jennifer paused, blinked rapidly, and wiped her eyes with her right hand. “Even though Earth isn’t yet within the range of our worm-fiber sensors, we have detected an active Kasari wormhole gateway on the planet, so we must proceed with caution. Stay safe. Tell Mom and Dad I love them. I hope to see you soon.”

  Then Jennifer’s image winked out. As Mark reached up to remove his SRT headset, he felt a dampness on his own cheeks. Having spent so long coming to terms with the loss of his twin, to see her again now brought all those feelings crashing back in. And even though he had placed his headset on the table, he could feel similarly strong emotions emanating from Heather’s mind in waves.

  “My God,” Heather said.

  “Now you know why I wanted to show you this in person,” said Janet. “Not only is Jennifer alive and on a starship headed here, but she said they have detected an active Kasari wormhole gateway on Earth.”

  “That’s impossible,” said Jamal. “We’ve penetrated all of the UFNS intelligence systems. If they had been building another gateway, we would have picked up on it.”

  Glancing to his right, Mark watched Heather’s eyes. Although they didn’t fade to white, they flickered.

  “What if Prokorov wanted us to focus on the Frankfurt Gateway?” asked Heather. “They made a big show of its construction by putting so much security around it.”

  Eileen gave a slow nod. “And he knows that we’ve penetrated all of their cyber-security systems.”

  “Even Big John,” said Denise.

  Mark detected a note of sadness in her tone. He looked at Janet. “If you wanted to hide a major construction project, totally off the grid, where would you do it?”

  “I’d want to take advantage of underground military construction. North Korea would be at the top of my list.”

  “How can we confirm it?”

  “I’d like more information on the UFNS troop movement anomalies we identified,” said Heather. “I’ll go through what we have, but I’d like Jamal and Eileen to see if they can find any more.”

  “Then I’ll volunteer for Altreian headset monitoring duty,” Mark said, feeling an upwelling of hope that he would soon be having a direct conversation with his sister.

  “Rob,” said Janet, “I want you to try to make the subspace connection to the Rho Ship.”

  “I’m on it.”

  Janet shifted her gaze back to Mark. “Okay,” she said, “let’s bring your sister home.”

  Nikina Gailan, aka Galina Anikin, stepped out of the dark alley onto a dimly lit Budapest street, firmly ensconced in
her assumed identity. She was one of the most wanted operatives for the Safe Earth resistance, or SERE, as the UFNS media had branded it. After the robotic attack on the Frankfurt Gateway, even SERE’s political counterpart, the Safe Earth movement, had distanced itself from the violent group and its leaders.

  Although Prokorov had choreographed Nikina’s escape from UFNS military custody, she’d made no contact with him during the last three months. The Smythes had far too much advanced technological capability to risk a message intercept, especially since she was working on building their trust.

  As silently as Nikina normally moved, tonight’s fresh blanket of snow muffled what little sound she made. It also made the notoriously dangerous Eighth District area along Dioszeghy Samuel Street appear peaceful. Tonight was cold enough to keep the prostitutes huddled just inside doorways instead of aggressively plying their wares to the drivers of slow-moving cars.

  She walked southeast. Interconnected single-story buildings lined the right side of the sidewalk. Across the street to her left, a youth reform facility occupied a crumbling four-story brick building. The drug dealers and gang members she passed looked Nikina over but came to the wise decision not to mess with her, an effect she usually had on such people.

  Daniil Alkaev had called it her death stare, although she thought that a highly inaccurate description. The look saved the lives of people who would otherwise be dead. More important, it kept them from impeding her progress.

  Stepping between two toughs who were actually SERE operatives, Nikina entered the dilapidated six-story structure and made her way to the concrete stairs that led down to the basement, passing three men shooting craps on the upper landing. The bald one in the center glanced up and smiled.

  “Good evening, Nikina.”

  “Burt.”

  With that single word of acknowledgment, she left him and his dice-gaming, sham security guards behind and descended the two flights of stairs that took her to the filthy entry to the sub-basement. Ignoring the steel door with its rusted-over hinges, she looked up into the shadowed corner to its right, a cavity into which light from the bare incandescent bulb didn’t reach.

 

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