by John Zakour
“You could just open your own doors,” I suggest.
That statement somehow sends my mind off in another direction. “HARV, how do the doors in this ship work?”
“Well, SRIP wasn’t very forthcoming with any information, but a brief scan shows they are computer controlled.”
“What if the computer is down?” I ask.
“Scanning, I see there are manual override buttons on the wall next to the doors.” HARV answers.
Suddenly, it hit me. I knew where those threatening thoughts were coming from.
12
Putting all the pieces together, something hit me. If Merinda’s intelligent ship, SRIP, had been sleeping like the rest of the world, it wouldn’t have been able to open the doors to Merinda’s crewmembers’ rooms. That meant, at the very least, SRIP had been deceiving us.
“HARV, can this SRIP communicate with the crew telepathically?” I think to HARV.
“I assume so,” HARV thinks back to me.
“Of course it can,” Merinda thinks back to both of us. “SRIP was designed by Mars’s technology, with the help of the Gladians and the psis on the moon, to read our thoughts in order to anticipate our needs.”
“Wait, I thought the moon and Mars didn’t get along,” I think.
“When it comes to matters of the mind, we do cooperate,” Merinda thinks.
“Yes, psis do share a common bond,” Carol chimes in mentally.
OK, my very educated guess is that for some reason, Merinda’s ship wants her dead. The thing is, I didn’t have a motive, or for that matter, proof. I am going to have to play this coyly. I need to find out why a spaceship, even an intelligent one, would want to kill anybody. This is going to be trickier than dealing with humans and humanoids. At least with them, you could see them—read their faces and judge their actions. Plus, when push comes to push harder, why would an intelligent ship want to kill anybody?
“OK, Johnson, what’s the story?” HAL50 says, poking me with a finger. “What gives you the right to be snooping around our rooms?”
I take a step back. I don’t appreciate being poked. But before I can do anything, HARV appears between us.
“Ah, Mr. HAL50, I feel obligated to inform you that room belongs to the people of Mars, not you. If your leader, Merinda, feels threatened, then of course Zach has every right to examine all your rooms because they are actually her rooms she lets you use. I can show you the Mars charter, if you wish,” HARV says, in typical longwinded HARV form.
“So, Zach, do you know who the potential killer is?” Alicia asks.
I shake my head. “Not yet, but I am going to question you each individually now. I think between Carol, HARV, and I, we should be able to crack whichever one of you it is.”
“It’s surely not me,” Alicia says. “I’ve been nothing but loyal.”
“It’s not me, either,” Tezza says. “It would be a PR nightmare.”
“Obviously it’s not me,” Maxxx says. “After all, I am her security.”
The three of them look at HAL50.
“Oh sure, blame the android with the human brain. It’s always our fault,” HAL50 moans.
“Nobody is blaming anybody, yet!” I say sharply. “Not until after I question you all.”
I think to HARV, “HARV, as Carol and I question them, I need you to get as close as you can to SRIP to see if you can figure out what type of motive it might have.”
“Or what type of means it might have,” HARV adds.
“If I may interrupt you humans and near humans,” SRIP calls over the intercom system. “I calculate this is an optimal time to take off. Now that Madam Merinda has woken up the good people of Earth, I suggest we launch ASAP.”
Merinda turns to me. “Zach, are you ready to head to Mars?”
Now this is a bit dicey. I certainly don’t want to let on that I am on to SRIP being sneaky at best, murderous at worse. The catch is, if SRIP really intends to kill Merinda, letting him blast us off into space where we would be at SRIP’s mercy probably isn’t the hottest idea. Of course, if I am going to maintain the facade of questioning Merinda’s human and near-human crew, having SRIP take off might cause him to let his guard down.
Merinda keeps her focus on me. “Zach, are you ready to head to Mars?” she repeats.
There’s no way I am eager to be blasted into space by an intelligent ship I suspect wants Merinda dead. Of course, I don’t want to tip my hand.
“HARV, is everybody awake now?”
“Yes, Zach, everybody is awake. They have been for a while.”
“Carol, I need you to mentally reach out to ground control and have them ground this flight.”
“Madam Merinda!” SRIP says. “I suggest we take off while the conditions are so perfect.”
“Well, Zach?” Merinda asks me.
“Ah, well,” I say as slowly as I can.
“Well put,” Tezza says.
“Man, I hope we’re not paying this guy a lot,” HAL50 groans.
“I like Zach!” Maxxx adds.
“Give me a nano,” Carol thinks back to me. She stands steady, in deep concentration. A sly smile creeps across her lips. “Done!”
Before I can say anything, SRIP informs us all, “This is most unfortunate. According to Earth ground control, all flights are suspended until further notice. Apparently, there is excess sunspot activity that could hamper some electronics.”
“Looks like we are Earthbound for a bit,” I say.
“Actually, our technology is far ahead of Earth’s when it comes to space travel,” SRIP says confidently. “I am sure I can blast off and navigate without any problems.”
“That’s true,” Tezza agrees. “We on Mars use space travel more than Earth does, so we are quite advanced.”
I shake my head. “No, I don’t think it’s such a good idea to blast off when Earth ground control says no. We certainly don’t want to start an interplanetary incident.”
Alicia takes a step forward. “Oh, I see what’s going on here.” She thrusts a finger at Carol. “He used the mind-bending witch here to force ground control to keep us here.”
I shrug. “True,” I admit. “I am not overly anxious to be blasted into space, trapped in an enclosed area with a possible killer.”
“It figures he’d use the mind witch,” Tezza barks. “Psis and Martians just don’t get along.”
“Hence our trouble with the moon,” Maxxx says.
“The relationship between Mars and the moon has nothing to do with this,” I say in my calmest voice. “Carol is a tool in my arsenal that I use—”
“What?” Carol says, glaring at me, leaning toward me with her face turning red. “I’m just a tool?”
I hold up a hand to her. “Poor choice of words,” I acknowledge with a nod.
Carol relaxes her stance. Her face returns to its normal light-golden-brown color. Saturn jumps into her arms and gives her a reassuring lick. Yeah, I like that dog.
“So you admit to manipulating the situation!” HAL50 says.
The good news is, I can be pretty certain SRIP doesn’t suspect that I suspect him. The bad news is, I had just pretty much managed to get all of Merinda’s staff and crew angry with me.
“HARV, any luck finding anything about SRIP’s programming?” I think.
“Sorry, Zach. So far, I have less than zilch. I can’t get any read on this computer. I find it very upsetting.”
Just then it hit me. Maybe I had been going about this the wrong way. Maybe it was time to drop the facade and poke the e-tiger.
“Madam Merinda, do you wish me to ignore Earth authorities and take off to Mars?” SRIP coaxes. “I do not need their guidance or, for that matter, their permissions.”
“Well, Zach, what do you think?” Merinda asks me.
“Probably not a good idea to irk ground control,” I say in my most serious voice. “We’re in no hurry. Certainly no need to create an incident. Especially since you will need to bring me back to Earth.”
> “Zach raises a fine point,” Merinda says.
“And of course, my lady, Merinda, makes the wisest choice,” Alicia agrees.
“No need in making my PR job even harder,” Tezza agrees.
“I’m in no hurry,” Maxxx says.
HAL50 just shrugs.
“Woof!” Saturn barks in agreement.
The good news is, that for once I had all of Merinda’s people kind of on my side, at least as much on my side as a group of people who think I suspect one of them to be a murderer can be on my side. The challenging news is, I’m starting to think the only way I can get to SRIP is out-and-out accusing him of being the possible killer.
“HARV, you got anything out of SRIP? Any way to pick its brain?” I mentally ask.
The word nada rolls across my eyes.
I take a deep breath.
“Tió, what are you thinking?” Carol asks in my mind. She concentrates on me. “No, you can’t be thinking that…” Carol just shakes her head at me.
HARV’s holographic eyes pop open. “Zach, you do realize we are inside of SRIP right now,” HARV lectures.
“I admit, it’s a gamble,” I think back.
“OK, why are you guys just staring at one another?” Maxx asks HARV, Carol, and me.
“They are communicating telepathically,” Tezza remarks.
“What’s so important you have to talk about it in secret?” Maxx asks.
“They are thinking which of us might be a killer,” HAL50 says.
“True,” I say holding up a finger. “But I’ll bet credits to soy donuts I’m not thinking what you think.”
“HARV, do you know where the control room is here?” I think.
“Of course.”
A green glowing holographic arrow appears in front of my eyes. It points to a door toward the front of the ship. I start casually walking toward that door.
“Zach, where are you going?” Merinda asks.
“This ship is such a marvel. I really want to see the brains that hold everything together. It’s not for me so much as it is for HARV.”
HARV picks up on my lead and starts walking ahead of me. (There are advantages to being a hologram.) “Yes, this SRIP is so amazing!” HARV gushes. “I must see what makes it tick.”
My hope now is that SRIP doesn’t see where I’m going with this. But if my educated hunch is right and SRIP is the potential murderer here, then I have to make sure when I confront SRIP, I’m close enough to his brain to shut him down fast before he reacts.
“Passengers aboard, I am preparing to blast off. Please do not take your seats, as I wish to kill you all!” SRIP announces.
We feel and hear the ship’s engines rumble and roar to life.
The good news is, my hunch about SRIP is right. The bad news is, SRIP is pretty sharp.
HARV, Carol, and I rush toward the control room. Merinda and her staff follow on our heels. Of course, SRIP continues to vibrate to life, which most likely means death to the rest of us.
“Zach, if this ship gets off the ground, you are doomed!” HARV says.
“Yeah, he’ll probably fly us into the sun,” HAL50 groans.
“No, the sun would take too long. I am going to crash you into the moon!” SRIP informs us.
Turning to Merinda’s crew, I ask, “How long until SRIP can blast off?”
“The engines can go from cold to launch ready in four minutes and twenty-eight seconds,” Tezza says proudly.
“Just lovely,” I mumble.
“Hey, we can’t help it if we’re an efficient people,” Tezza says.
We reach the door to the control room. Surprisingly, it opens right up for us. I hesitate.
“Oh, I thought this was going to be harder,” I say.
“Yeah, this can’t be a good sign,” HARV says.
We enter the control room. It’s a fairly unimpressive, seemingly empty room with glowing light-blue display panels lining the walls and the ceiling.
“Where are the main brains to this thing?” I ask.
Another glowing green arrow appears in front of my eyes. It points upward and then zooms up until it touches a spot on the ceiling.
“Shooting through this panel should totally disable SRIP,” HARV tells me.
I pop my gun into my hand.
“Zach, are you sure of this?” Merinda asks.
“Unless SRIP powers down, I don’t think there is another way,” I tell her loudly.
The face of a young child with huge blue eyes and an angelic smile appears on the wall screens all around us.
“Greetings, Mr. Johnson, Merinda, Tezza, Maxxx, HAL50, Alicia, HARV, Carol, and, of course, Saturn!” the child says. “I have so enjoyed interacting with you all. I will take no pleasure in killing you.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice a dozen little circular bots pop out of panels near the floor. The bots float into the air and start whizzing toward us.
“I’ve got the bots on the left,” Carol tells me.
Carol glares at the charging bots and squeezes her fists. The bots crumble and crush like very weak soda cans in a vise. Carol opens her hands. The bots drop to the ground.
“Wow, what a woman!” Maxx says.
The bots on the right side continue buzzing toward me.
“Zach, there are six bots attacking you!” HARV tells me.
“Yeah, I see that,” I say, spinning toward the bots. I fire six times. There are six explosions followed by six little bots shattering into many bot pieces.
“That’s impressive!” Merinda says.
“The bullets are computer controlled,” HARV informs her. “Zach basically just needed to count to six.”
“Yeah, but I pulled the trigger with flare!” I say. Looking at SRIP’s image, I say, “You tried taking us out with vacuum bots? That was your plan?”
SRIP’s image shrugs. “You make do with what you are given.”
I point my gun at the spot on the ceiling. “Stop stalling and power down, now!” I order.
“So, Mr. Johnson, it appears we are at an impasse!” the young child tells me.
“How much time do we have before SRIP is ready to launch?” I ask.
“One minute and seven seconds,” HARV tells me.
I shake my head. “No impasse here, SRIP. You power down, or I shut you down for good!” There’s a very slight pause to let what I said sink in. “HARV, let me know when SRIP is ten seconds from ignition.”
“Check,” HARV says.
“Yes, you could surely disable me, Mr. Johnson, but then you will never learn my motive or who programmed me to do this,” SRIP says quickly.
OK, SRIP has a point here, but I don’t have a lot of time to make a choice. I hold my gun steady, ready to take out SRIP in an instant. His offer, though, does intrigue me. After all, SRIP is just a tool here, a cog in the machine of death. He is not the one who started the process.
Then HARV tells me, “This is strange. You know how you wanted me to look for council member Sam Storm?”
“Yeah,” I think back.
“I found him. He is in the rocket port actually looking at this rocket.”
“So what will it be, Mr. Johnson?” SRIP prompts.
The image of Sam Storm appears in my head. He is smiling proudly and looking up at SRIP. I fire my gun.
SRIP goes blank and silent.
“Don’t need you any longer!” I say to the dead screen.
“You don’t care who’s trying to kill us?” Tezza screams.
“I will contact Mars and have them send a new ship,” Alicia says.
“Zach, are you sure about what you just did?” Merinda asks.
“Well he’d better be, ’cause there’s no undoing it,” HAL50 notes.
“Not unless Carol can rewind time,” Maxxx says. He looks at her. “Can you?”
Carol shakes her head. “No, at least not yet.”
I lower my gun and then state rather confidently with as much bravado as I can muster, “Yes, I’ve never been mo
re sure.” Pointing toward the outside of the now-terminated ship, I say, “The culprit behind all this is out there.” I pause a moment for effect and then add, “It’s Councilman Sam Storm.”
I quickly head to the main section of the rocket. Everybody follows on my heels. Looking out one of the windows, Maxxx says, “Wait, if Councilman Storm is here, where’s the security, the press, the aides?”
“He doesn’t have any,” I say, pressing toward the door.
“Then why isn’t he being mobbed by people?” Merinda asks.
“Because he’s traveling alone. Nobody recognizes him. After all, nobody here on Earth actually knows or cares what most of the Earth council members look like. To travel incognito, they merely need to travel alone. Sexy Sprockets once admitted to me that all she has to do to go old-fashioned store shopping in peace is take off her makeup and ditch the entourage. She hated the experience though.”
“So you think Councilman Storm was the one who got SRIP to try to kill me?” Merinda asks me.
I nod. “You and all your people. To start an incident.”
“Why? What motive does he have?” Tezza asks. “Mars has been nothing but helpful to Earth. Your people love our products.” She smiles. “After all, they are of the highest quality! The best in all the worlds.”
Continuing my way toward the door, I say, “Well, I am going to go ask him.”
Carol leans forward and grabs me by the arm. “Zach, stop. You just can’t go accuse a councilman of trying to kill a diplomat from Mars.”
“Yes, what grounds do you have?” Merinda asks. “It would be your word against his.”
“Yes, Zach, he would wriggle free for sure,” HARV says.
“My gut tells me it’s him,” I growl.
HARV and Carol both shake their heads. “For the seventeenth time, your gut isn’t admissible in court,” HARV tells me.
I take a breath and then another. Deep down I know Sam Storm is the mastermind here. I can feel it in my bones. I remember his career as a pitcher. He didn’t have great stuff, but he was tricky. Somehow, this all clicks with his Earth First Act. But contrary to popular belief, I’m not stupid. I know how the worlds work. If I go after Storm without any proof, he would skip away, free as a genetically enhanced free-range turchicken.