by Skyler Grant
Symbiotes were a tricky business in Olympus. In a way they were a lot like cybernetic implants, but they were an unnatural addition to the human form. It didn't matter that our bodies were by no means natural anyway—if we were properly designed in the first place it meant we would never need them. The problem was that humans lived a long time and research just kept continuing. I was a bit smarter, stronger, and healthier than either of my parents and I still didn't compare to the children being born right now. Yet on computers in my mother’s lab were the templates that would already render those children obsolete even before they were born. A well-designed symbiote could help level the field, for a time.
"Tell me more," Rena said, apparently sincere.
I confess that is where I started to zone out a bit. Orestes really was a genius, and he truly was passionate about his work. Even zoning out I noted that Rena wasn't just mouthing platitudes to keep him talking, but was having a real conversation. If she was able to discuss cellular nucleotides I wondered why I'd had to get involved at all.
A small sphere zoomed towards our pool and Ismene flickered into view standing at the edge. That was unusual, the hover projectors weren't waterproof. AIs rarely came into the baths.
"Alena's mother needs her. It is probably a good idea for you to come too, Orestes," Ismene said. That wasn't like her either. Ismene tended to take her social niceties very seriously and it was strange not to get a proper greeting. My friend also tended to be a horrible flirt and it wasn't like her not to seize the moment.
"What is going on?" I asked.
Ismene's expression was remaining fixed in perfect professionalism, that wasn't very much like her either. "Not here. Get home."
The hologram flickered out and the sphere zoomed off.
We all three in the pool exchanged looks.
"That isn't like her," Orestes said.
"I agree," I said.
Rena rose to her feet, water dripping off her. "Then let's go."
Ismene hadn't specified Rena, but I wasn't going to leave her alone.
We weren't the only ones contacted. A few others were hastily making their way out of the baths. I recognized them. While the station was too large to know everybody I was familiar with other highly placed citizens and their families.
I got changed in record time, not even bothering to towel off properly. The others did the same.
We were just stepping out of the baths area when a rumble hit the station, a tremor beneath my feet that left me stumbling. I couldn't say I'd never felt anything like it—on a few occasions the stations had to do a burn to maintain its orbit. Those were always scheduled well in advance and we were warned.
"All station residents please remain calm and follow the advice on your Comms," said an announcement.
Station-wide announcements were rare. I wore my Comm as a bracelet and a touch brought up my instructions. To remain calm and stay where I was, or if in transit, to head home and wait there.
"Whatever it is, they don't need me," Rena said with a scowl.
"I'm being instructed to report to Deck 12A. That is my emergency medical duty station," Orestes said. "I have to go."
It would be dereliction of duty if he didn't. I nodded.
"I had a nice time," Orestes said to Rena, before taking off at a run. Another tremor shook the station, far more violent than the last and sent him sprawling.
Rena helped him back to his feet and Orestes made his grand exit once more, limping this time.
"One home is as good as another. Come back with me," I said.
Rena only had to consider for a moment. I knew she hated to be out of the loop as much as I did. There weren't going to be any answers at her home, but there would be at mine.
80
The tremors were growing more frequent. Even though Olympians were more disciplined than most there was still tension amongst those hurrying down the halls. The trip home meant moving towards the outer perimeter of the station. The most distinguished residents of Olympus had rooms with views of Earth beneath. The more one went towards the bowels of the station the smaller and less grand residences became.
The floor gave the most violent buckling yet and suddenly the air carried the scent of burning oil, and the acrid stench of hot metal. It wasn't totally unheard of for the air purification systems to have issues, but it was another rare thing.
"Race you there?" Rena said.
I nodded. I wanted to find out what was going on, too.
We wove in and out of pedestrians. The halls were filled with a mix of people making their way home, clusters of those gathered around their Comms trying to figure out what was going on, and members of the station crew.
There was normally an amazing view from an observation lounge as we neared the estate, but today it showed nothing. Metal shields covered the windows.
As soon as we reached my estate Ismene flickered back into being as an orb dropped down from the ceiling. "Rena, you can head to the ballroom where the party was last night. The families’ retainers are gathering there. Alena, you need to come with me."
I must have looked conflicted, because Rena reached out to rest a hand on my arm. "It’s okay, you must go."
Ismene wasted no time, not even manifesting as a hologram as her sphere moved down a side hall. I followed. My mother kept a small lab and my father an office here.
We went through the door to my mother’s lab. It was empty, research equipment blinking away. Ismene guided me towards the back of Mother’s private office. A case of awards folded up, panels collapsing and pulling aside to open a new passage I'd not seen before.
Every powerful family had their secrets. I knew some of my father’s security measures to safeguard those he kept. I hadn't realized until now that my mother had anything similar.
The room was another lab, this one far smaller than the other. The centerpiece was a black tube extending from floor to ceiling, filled with some kind of clear fluid in which floated a black mass.
I barely noticed the gear. Holographic displays were up and displaying what was going on outside the station and for the first time I could see the cause for all the commotion. We were under attack. Defense drones were in a pitched battle against swarms of attackers.
It wasn't something I could be seeing. It wasn't something that should happen. After corporate battles had seen the decimation of several boards and assassination had become good business, the Treaty of Detroit had been signed. Important company personnel could be killed virtually, but real world engagement and death was strictly off the table. A few "accidental" strikes had led to all headquarters being moved into Earth orbit so there could never be any confusion. There hadn't been since—it was the best kind of rule. One in everyone’s best interests.
"You found her," said my mother Aniela, letting out a sigh of relief.
"Who is attacking us?" I asked, peering at the displays. I couldn't make out any markings on the ships.
"Alive and well," Ismene said, flying over to a mount and docking herself.
"Transfer and begin initialization procedures. We don't know, Alena. Roma seems the most likely. It doesn't matter right now, out of your clothes," Aniela said.
That was an unusual request from one’s mother in the middle of an attack. I wanted to ask questions, but I was a soldier. Whatever was happening, it was clearly important. I trusted my mother or I didn't, and I did.
I kicked off my sandals and slipped out of my chiton to stand naked in the chill air.
My mother barely paused to note my compliance, her interface with the system up.
"I'm over," Ismene said. The black mass in the tank dissolved in an instant, giving the fluid a muddied appearance. "Initialization complete."
"I'd like some sort of explanation while you work," I said.
"It was supposed to be a present on your eighteenth birthday. It proved rather more complicated than expected," Aniela said, moving over to another console. "How recent are the files in there?"
"Three years, five months out of date," Ismene said.
"Updating with everything current and the theoreticals," Aniela said.
"That wasn't much of an answer," I said.
"There is a round seal on the tank about chest level. Put your arm through it," Aniela said.
I really didn't like not getting my answers. My original judgment held though. Sometimes you just have to stick your hand in a hole.
I did so. The seal was a gelatinous membrane and it squelched around my fingertips as I shoved them through and extended my arm beyond. The water was warmer than the air in the room.
"Got her?" my mother asked.
"Locked," Ismene said.
"This will feel strange. Just keep your hand where it is until I tell you to pull it out," said my mother.
"Doctor, the shield is fading," Ismene said.
"We have time to complete the transfer," my mother said. Her fingers had never stopped moving through the display. "I love you, Alena. When the transfer is complete we head for the exits as quickly as we can. This smartsuit is going to help keep you alive."
I felt a sudden heat that started at my fingertips and quickly spread down my arm. A black fluid was flowing down my skin, leaving it coated in a close-fitting sheen. It kept going, molding itself against my form.
I held my arm steady just as I'd been told. Within a minute I was completely covered. I'd say that it felt skin tight, but that would be wrong—I wasn't feeling it at all.
"Remove your arm and let’s go," my mother said.
I did. I wasn't sure how my mobility would be with this—this whatever it was—on me. I'd trained with a wide variety of battle armor in the Network. From the skintight infiltration suits favored by scouts to the infantry suits that were used by the heaviest hitters down on Earth. This truly did feel like wearing nothing at all, which was strange.
The lights in the labs flickered and I followed my mother do the door.
"So what exactly am I wearing?" I asked.
"Ismene, in a sense. It is a smartsuit made utilizing nanotechnology," my mother said.
I'd heard of nanotechnology, it had some limited applications in laboratory settings, but any practical applications had always failed.
"I thought nanotechnology didn't work for something like armor?" I asked.
"That is because they never had anything like me," Ismene said, her voice coming out of my shoulder.
"Took you long enough to speak up," my mother said.
"I've been busy integrating," Ismene said.
Before I could ask what she meant I was tossed backwards by an explosion.
Metal screamed and a support brace tore itself apart. It missed me, but it didn't miss my mother, cutting her in two. I was no stranger to blood, but it had never been the blood of someone I loved. It had never been the blood of someone that wouldn't just be coming back with a penalty. Olympian medicine could do a lot, but not for this. My mother was instantly killed.
I felt myself teetering on the edge of madness.
"The shielding is going in this section. You need to go," Ismene said in my ear. There was no compassion. It was cool, professional.
I needed to be a professional too.
I took that little bit of screaming madness inside of me that was breaking—that part of me that was sobbing her eyes out—and shoved her into a cage. This wasn't the time. I couldn't afford to be her. Not now
"Where am I going?" I asked.
"Military wing. I'll guide you from there," Ismene said.
I stepped past the ruins of what had been my mother. I made a vow she was the last of my family and loved ones that I'd allow to die.
81
The estate was empty as I made my way through the halls. I remembered that Rena had gone off to meet with the family retainers.
"Are the retainers still here?" I asked.
"Evacuated. This section isn't safe," Ismene said.
For a moment the abyss of madness threatened and I again took a shaky step backwards. I had to focus, I had to hold on.
Out in the main hall things were more crowded than before. Nobody was staying still and safe now, instead orderly progress was being made towards the core of the station. Several people had the elderly on one arm, making sure they got clear.
"Do we even have a plan for a scenario like this?" I asked.
"The military normally has a plan for every catastrophe, but I don't think anybody ever thought this one very likely. There are a few escape boats, but not enough for everyone and they are already off. Most others are heading towards the reactor section," Ismene said.
Why would there be enough escape boats for all? An attack like this was illegal—it was never supposed to happen. Even thinking that made me feel week. We should have been prepared, warriors should always be prepared.
"Why the reactors?" I asked.
"Shielding. The AIs in station defense are sharing what is going on. It’s bad. Most of our defense drones never launched for some reason and those that did are gone. We've got no communication with the other stations. They'll investigate, eventually, but the estimates are that we won't last," Ismene said.
If we were without our defender drones that meant we were just taking fire until the enemy ran out of ammunition or finished the job. If they knew our weak spots—and it seemed they did—this wasn't looking good.
"I'm not just going to hunker behind a shield and wait to die," I said.
"It isn't certain death. When Liberty finds out what is happening they will come," Ismene said.
She was right. Liberty wouldn't abandon us in our hour of need. Unfortunately, I was quite certain that whoever staged this attack knew that too, and I couldn't fault their planning so far.
"Can you reach my father?" I asked.
"He is a little busy right now," Ismene said.
It should have been a believable lie, but it wasn't. My father’s army had nothing to do with the defense of this station.
"The truth, now," I said.
Ismene was quiet for a long moment. More than any AI should need to collect her thoughts. "He was in the command nexus when this first broke out. There was a bomb. Your father was dead before you left the baths."
There it was again, that abyss of madness. So much closer now. So desperately close and waiting to consume me, an endless sea filled with grief and rage.
A badly burned man limped past me being helped by a child.
I wasn't going to lose it. I wasn't. I also wasn't going to hide.
"We're both fighters. That isn't what we do. You're tied in with the others, there has to be something we can do to help," I said.
Ismene was silent again. This time she was studying the problem and discussing it with the station AIs.
"Take the third doorway to the right," Ismene said. I did, there was no foot traffic here. Marble statues were shattered and broken, cracks showing in the finely painted walls.
"Where are we going?" I asked.
"One of the drone bays that didn't catch fire. It took some hits, but they're hoping we can find something salvageable," Ismene said.
I followed her directions several more times. There were scattered bodies now, torn apart and coated in a thin layer of frost. I felt a little chilled, but nothing like the air temperature must be. I took a deep breath and my lungs felt fine.
"You aren't breathing the air. I'm covering your face at the moment. We lost atmosphere in this section," Ismene said.
That took me a second to process. Space suits were bulky by necessity, there was only so much space you could compress the equipment into to provide a human with the very specific requirements they needed to live.
"How long do I have?" I asked.
"Not long enough. Keep moving," Ismene said.
We reached the drone bay. The reinforced doors leading into space were warped and twisted, but intact, the racks of defense drones and ammunition stood almost untouched.
"I don't understand," I said.
"I don't
either. There is a repair bench to your right, can you place both hands on it," Ismene said.
I complied. It was another of those things where it seemed best to act first and then ask questions. Now I felt an uncomfortable burning heat across almost every inch of my skin.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"The drones’ communication networks are totally down. They've shut us down hard, and for some reason we aren't even seeing this part of the network. I'm working on turning us into a local hub," Ismene said.
"Will that work?" I asked.
"We're working on it," Ismene said.
When I wanted to help, standing around wasn't exactly what I had in mind. Being a wearable computing platform wasn't what I was used to, but if it saved lives I'd do it.
Even at the rapid pace AIs could think it was still a good few minutes.
"No good. We're just not getting anything. Walk along the center rack and set a hand on each drone," Ismene said.
I did so, each drone humming to life shortly after I touched it.
At Ismene's directions I continued down lines of drones.
"What exactly are we doing?" I asked.
"We're serving as a relay, the other AIs are transferring themselves into each individual drone," Ismene said.
I didn't know how much computer hardware was in a drone, but it didn't seem it should be nearly enough to hold something so complex as an AI.
"Are they going to be okay in there?" I asked.
"No, I don't think they will," Ismene said.
AIs were raised, more than programmed. An incredible investment of resources, and brought up as families. The AIs on Olympus comprised a few such generations, they were all close.
"Step outside of the room. They need to take out the door," Ismene said.
I went outside and placed myself behind a wall. In a vacuum I couldn't hear the shots, although I felt the vibrations as rounds must have torn the door to shreds. More than the door. The floor ripped apart beneath my feet and I scrambled for something, anything to hold onto. There was nothing.