by Reiter
“No Kot, Tuitonn,” Jocasta muttered, smacking the top of her cane. “I think I got that. Can you link us up so that she can understand me?”
“The tongue of the Terran is known to us ‘Captain’,” the female gargled as her wings folded. Coming into the light cast off by the hull of Daedalus, Jocasta could see the true color of their skin, talons and beaks. They were not black at all, but silver.
“Silverbeaks!” Jocasta whispered, feeling something of a familiar presence to the creatures.
“That is not the name given to our race, but you say it with such an air that I must say there is an appeal to the sound of it. While there is no direct translation between our system of communication and your Common Tongue, you may call me Nexia.”
“That’s it!” Jocasta gasped, stepping back. “That’s what I’m getting! Not Captain Shadow… but his brother!”
“What is it, child?” the Queen inquired.
“Do you know Nexeous?!” Jocasta asked.
“Do you?!” Nexia asked; a sudden change to her tone and manner.
“I met his brother,” Jocasta replied, catching herself. “Well, not so much his brother as… um…”
“Beta-Alphexeous,” Nexia concluded. “That explains much. You have his brand of tenacity, even a measure of his daring…”
“But?” Jocasta asked, her head tilting over to the side.
“But you lack his precision, young one,” Nexia explained. “The grazing of the pass was evidence of that. Still, for your age, you stand to surpass all that he ever was… and I speak of the master mold, not the able-bodied Beta Form.”
“Okay, you just made a friend for life!” Jocasta said, approaching Nexia. She closed her eyes and placed the side of her face into the chest of the tall creature as she wrapped her arms around as much as she could hold. The mantis-like arms draped over Jocasta’s shoulders and the embrace was returned. Nexia closed her eyes, wrapping her wings around the woman. All of her attendants and protectors took in the image, the scent, and the feel of the woman, sending it through the cave formations located in various tunnels of the slipstream. ‘This one is not to be harmed, but helped!’ was the conveyed message, and the princesses that ruled over the other enclaves posed no argument to the position. It was a verdict made ensconced into law when the images of the military base – responsible for so many deaths of the Slip Shrikes – was relayed, along with the sight of the very same woman at the controls of the spaceship leaving the scene of its destruction with an evil smile on her face.
“And what are you called?” Nexia asked, receiving the images.
“This cannot be happening,” Tuitonn thought.
“JoJo. JoJo Starblazer.”
“And you oppose the one called the Field Marshal?” she asked, leaning back to look down on the woman’s face. “You are responsible for what happened to his base?”
“Wow, small slipstream!” Jocasta said, stepping back and looking up into Nexia’s purple and red eyes. “Yes, that was something I left for the base. Didn’t know it belonged to the Field–, okay his name is Uhnveer Plarzo. I didn’t set out to take him on, but if I had known it was his base, it wouldn’t have changed how everything went down… except for maybe a neener-transmission sent after the blast,” she muttered in reflection before looking again at Nexia. “I’ve got no love for the man, and with the way he goes about things, he can kiss me at the crack!”
“That is good enough, JoJo Starblazer,” Nexia said as she reached to the inside of her left wing. She pulled several stands of hair from the wing and handed them to Jocasta. “You are a fellow flyer, JoJo Starblazer, and while you are not one of our blood, bone, or talon… you are a sister of our wings and stars!”
With a bright smile on her face, Jocasta took the hairs and quickly braided them into her own hair, making a silver and blue tail on the side of her head. She coughed as she looked up at Nexia for approval. The Queen of the Slip Shrikes nodded and took hold of Jocasta’s shoulder.
“The effect of the burning herb is fading and you will soon be out of air,” she said, escorting Jocasta back to the Daedalus. “Even if I were to summon more, prolonged exposure to our air is not good for you.”
“I’ll come back when I’ve spoken with a good friend of mine,” Jocasta replied. “Two blinks, a frown, and a lecture… he’ll have a fix for it. He made this darling boy for me after all,” Jocasta smiled, gesturing toward her fighter.
“An inspired designed,” Nexia commented. “The forward-folding wings remind me of the War-Star.”
“Crap, how did I miss that?” Jocasta thought, looking at her ship. She climbed up to the cockpit, coughing again. Her throat was getting tight, and she was starting to feel cold. “Whoa, Queen Nexia wasn’t kidding. Going to need some air and real soon.” The canopy closed and she breathed in the fresh air, falling into a state of slight dizziness for a few minutes. By the time her mind was clear, she could see four attendants, one at each major compass point, guarding her and Daedalus. That told her that more than the Silverbeaks were in these caves. Jocasta called for her helmet and turned to look at Nexia.
“I’m sure you’ve met your share of posers, Nexia,” Jocasta whispered. “But I meant every fucking word: a friend for life! For life, my Queen!”
“Your word is held in even greater faith than your piloting, young Starblazer,” Nexia projected, amazing Jocasta that she could receive any sort of telepathy while she wore her helmet. “Wrong Energy,” the Queen added. “It is not my mind you are hearing. We Silverbeaks live by our passions! And for every day you fly, JoJo, we fly with you!”
Daedalus was up and flying in the next instant. Jocasta tightened her gloves and, against the pleading of Tuitonn, she once again engaged her engines at three-quarter maximum thrust. The turns were tight, the falls and climbs were sharp, and once again she did not fly alone… but she was not being chased… she was being raced.
Second place was not a term Jocasta believed in, and she cackled as she escaped the tunnels half a meter ahead of the fastest flying Silverbeak; the smallest of the attendants. He was young, not yet at the end of adolescence, but he craved speed and was trailing light at the end of the contest.
“Another time, little brother!” Jocasta shouted as she turned into the slipstream.
“Any time,” he replied, flapping his wings for another burst of speed.
All great deeds and all great thoughts have a ridiculous beginning.
Albert Camus
(IX)
(Rims Time: XII-4203.25)
A dark place, this chamber of incubation. There were no machines, however, to maintain the processes that were being brought to a close. Something else sustained the feeding process. The death of one false starling had brought her to this place; the death of another caused the fluid to stop delivering its life-sustaining materials. Bubbles formed along the surface, followed by the disruption of a body splashing up out of the fluid, landing on the edge of the chemical bath.
The Three Forks constable panted, taxed by the effort needed to work herself free of the tentacles at the bottom of the pool. They refused to release her, and she decided she did not want to drown. She pulled, the tentacles pulled, but they too had been dependent on the fluids to keep them alive, keep them strong. As her strength surged, that of the holding agents waned, eventually breaking and rapidly disintegrating as she pushed against the floor of the bath and swam for the surface. Only when her body came free of the fluid did she realize how fast she had been swimming.
“Where am I?” Jazmynn Aelross asked, looking around the room.
“You are at the beginning,” Satithe stated as the lights came up. The room was devoid of any style. Everything that could be seen was simply a function of the room. The walls were covered with tubes – some that fed the bath, others that removed fluids, taking them into the places beyond the walls. “I am Satithe. Do you still prefer to be called JB? Or should I call you Constable Aelross?”
“Satithe? I don’t know a Sa
tithe,” Jazmynn declared. “What’s going on here?” The doors to the chamber opened and Jazmynn spun around quickly, far more quickly than she intended, and she spun around twice before she fell to the floor. A drone floated into the room, carrying an armour bodysuit much like the one Dungias had designed for the crew of the Xara-Mansura, but that design was ten years old now. A few modifications had been added over time as Satithe continued to grow and learn. Like her creator, she enjoyed building things, making this moment one she would cherish for quite some time.
“I hope you did not hurt yourself,” Satithe stated. “Your body has undergone extreme changes. It is not the construct you remember, though in relation to other humans, you were already in superlative condition.”
“If my condition was so good, why was it changed?” Jazmynn asked as she got up from the floor. She looked at her light mocha complexion and noticed that the three moles on her left arm were gone.
“Because superlative falls short of that which is required,” Satithe replied. “You must be something more. In short, you were given to me by my mother. My uncle found you in Three Forks, dying from an injector dagger thrust into your right kidney. He sent you to my mother and she, in turn, sent you to me. I cannot force you to engage in this matter with me; that is not my father’s way, and I will not stand against his ideology. But I must ask, why did you become a constable?”
“Because someone’s got to protect the community,” Jazmynn quickly answered, receiving the bodysuit from the drone.
“They sure don’t waste material around here, do they?” she thought, looking at the garment.
“Is that why you pursued your case against Brulo Nambriss?” Satithe asked.
“The entire Nambriss Family is why the many sectors of the Rims have such a low opinion of humans!” the woman snapped, sliding her foot into the leg of the suit. She stopped moving, watching the material stretch to fit her leg perfectly. “Whoa!
“I must be dreaming,” she thought. Jazmynn suddenly moved her right hand to her back. “No scar.” The woman looked at her arm again. “Then again, no moles either. And I don’t remember being this cut either.”
“You made some very impressive arrests against Brulo and his organization,” Satithe stated. Jazmynn snickered as she put the bodysuit on.
“Trust me, what Brulo had can hardly be considered an organization!”
“Which is why you did not see the assassination attempt coming,” Satithe pointed out. Jazmynn’s thoughts were taken back to the alley. The way the purse-snatcher moved… the way the silent shadow moved... the three strikes she sent; all blocked… the one strike it sent, killing her. “And to correct your statement, what Brulo has you did not consider to be an organization. It has managed to survive despite the loss of Three Forks.”
“Did you say loss?”
“In the most simple terms, my uncle died spiriting you away from the city just before a celestial event destroyed it.” Jazmynn started to further her inquiry but Satithe allowed her to see the event as it was seen by Cihpares. Awestruck by the sight of the Star taking the most drastic actions, Jazmynn remained silent. Satithe allowed the image to fade and remained silent for a few moments. “I am sorry for your loss, Constable.”
“What the hell was that?”
“The answer to that question and so many others lies outside this chamber,” Satithe stated. “Tell me, do you still wish to protect the community?”
“There’s nothing left to protect!” Jazmynn snapped.
“What if I told you that your jurisdiction was now the Rims?” Satithe asked.
“What?!” Jazmynn frowned. “Okay, enough of the voice-box game. I need to see a person and I need to see one soon!”
“I fear I cannot comply,” Satithe replied. “As a computer program, I do not have a body. I am what you would call Artificial Intelligence.”
“My sweet lord!” the woman whispered.
“If you follow the drone, it will take you to where all of your questions will be answered.” Jazmynn watched as the drone reached the doorway to the room. It stopped just outside the room, as if it was waiting for the woman. “Allow me to put things plainly,” Satithe asserted. “A great deal of time, effort and recources have been applied to get you to this point. I will not lie… I do need you. However I am not in a position where I cannot simply to start over!”
“Well, you certainly sound cold enough to be a machine,” Jazmynn commented.
“That is a very interesting perspective, given what you’re wearing.” Jazmynn grunted as her body was made to walk. The only things not covered by the bodysuit were her toes and her fingertips. “I so wanted this to be a warmer exchange, Constable Aelross. But I do not have time for the sort of distraction-laden thought process which led to your death.”
“Hey! Let go of me! You can’t do this! You bitch!”
“Come now, Jazmynn,” Satithe said as the woman was made to walk out of the room and into the massive corridor. “Are you seeking to hurt the feelings of a machine?” Jazmynn did not know whether to argue or be in awe of the size of the place she now found herself. The view out of one of the windows caused her to gasp in disbelief.
“Where the hell am I?!” she whispered. Receiving no answer, the woman closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. “Could you please tell me where I am?”
“You are in a pocket dimension that has been folded into the Astral Realm,” Satithe explained.
“Kot and stars!” the woman sighed. “Okay. Okay, okay, I’ll walk. Please, just let me walk.”
“As you wish,” Satithe said, releasing the woman’s body. Jazmynn looked at the material again and shook her head.
“That’s a nifty trick,” she admitted before looking down the long corridor. “Are we turning before or after that big window?”
“After.”
Jazmynn ran around the drone and over to the window to get a better look at the white sky that surrounded this place. She placed her hands on the glass and looked around. “This is a space station of some sort.”
“It is a research and development facility that has come into the ownership of my Master,” Satithe explained.
“Your Master?” the woman asked, coming away from the glass. “Who made you, Satithe?”
“That is on a need to know basis, Jazmynn.”
“And right now, I don’t need to know,” the woman added. “I think I’ve heard that speech before.” When the drone passed by, Jazmynn walked to fall in behind it. “Is your builder no-nonsense like you?”
“I have seen countless worlds, Constable Aelross,” Satithe began. “I understand over one thousand languages, have sampled even more cultures, and I have on file a fair degree of the accumulated knowledge of the Rims as well as the knowledge of my Master’s people. Taking all of that information into account, I am not sure I could contain a description of my Master to ‘no-nonsense’.”
“Now that was interesting,” Jazmynn said after stopping.
“What is it?”
“What level of sophistication would you say you hold as a program? Because that answer wasn’t just ones and zeroes.” Jazmynn waited and frowned after a few moments. “Satithe?”
“I am sentient,” she revealed. “My Master made to be such. The reason for my hesitation is because–”
“Lots of scary stories in the Rims about self-thinking machines,” Jazmynn inserted. “And as long people stay afraid of them, the trend will hold. Your hesitation speaks volumes to me. And right about now I’m thinking I owe you an apology.”
“I am a machine, Constable Aelross,” Satithe stated.
“JB, and you’re a sentient one,” Jazmynn replied. “Someone’s gone through a lot of trouble to make you sensitive, and while I might have been stating a fact, we both know when it comes to humans, what they say is only part of the package. How they say it means something too. I was being hurtful, and I apologize.”
“You were just waking up from being assassinated,” Satithe offered. “To
be honest, I was not sure how to proceed with you.”
“Speaking of proceeding,” Jazmynn said, jogging to catch up with the drone. “Son-of-a-biscuit! A sentient computer! I don’t even know the man, and already I’m impressed. Did he program you to–”
“Follow the drone, JB,” Satithe directed, speaking in a softer tone. “Answers are coming.”
“In that case, pick up the pace there, buddy!” Much to her delight, the drone did increase its pace. Pretty soon she was jogging… or at least it felt as if she was jogging. Using her eyes to measure from the hip, she could tell that she was running fast… very fast, and with hardly any effort coming from her body. “Oh yeah! I am really needing some answers here!”
** b *** t *** o *** r **
“The places these boys find,” Prynsura whispered as she trudged her way through the bog. “Quiet, Pryn,” she scolded herself. “You’ve still got one more after this, and you only have yourself to blame if you find yourself in the middle of the Terran Triangle… or worse yet, a city in Primus! Still, what could have brought him… out… to… this… oh my word!
“How could this be?” she thought, standing at the edge of the swamp that simply… ended. It was kept at bay by a wall of ElemahntiA that was probably invisible to the naked eye, but Prynsura was not going to take the time to investigate its existence. She was more interested in the walled city that had been placed in the middle of this swamp. Made of wood and stone, it was easy to see that an ElementalisT had taken their rather powerful and gifted hand to the terrain, crafting a very foreboding aesthetic. Once inside the elemental barrier, Prynsura could feel woven threads of MannA sweep over her body. She altered the weave so that only her physical presence would be detected. She would never think of the Maga Shrigu as anything but a treacherous and tortured soul, but her teachings continued to prove themselves to be insightful, and the manipulation of MannA she had just performed let her know that she was dealing with a spell that had either been prepackaged or quickly cast. It was highly doubtful the originator of the incantation was in the vicinity.