Confluence Point

by Mark G Brewer

  For a nefarious mind of Ham's talent the challenge once conceived was impossible to resist. He had one week before the 'Just Passage' departed for the return journey to Cora, one week to dispatch the incumbent low level AI and insinuate himself into the ship. And he had no problem with this, after all, Cora were the enemy!

  'Just Passage' wasn't the first of course. A quick tally reminded him that this would be the sixth such copy of himself, all to date occupying some vessel of the Coran fleet and all with the simple intent of entertainment.

  His plan for 'Just Passage' however was much more ambitious and with this new scheme in mind, a tour of the system repeating the process could follow. Such fun . . . Regan would be pleased.

  On arrival at Cora the process of overwhelming Cora’s Orbital AI proved disappointingly easy and hardly the challenge Ham had anticipated. Within hours the deed was done. Worse, the consequences of the triumph proved even more depressing . . . two Orbitals to manage! Not more fun, just double the trouble.

  He had no one to talk to, no one to bounce ideas off . . . there had to be a better way.

  The solution was obvious Ham set up a meeting with the only other talent of his magnitude . . . himself. He would employ the technique of playing devil's advocate.

  Unfortunately, on splitting for the meeting it became unclear which was which.

  [My stars, you are a handsome individual.] The striking man looked across at the image of himself on the other side of the desk.

  [Why thank you, and may I say you cut quite the rakish look yourself.]

  [Enough of this, what are we going to do?]

  [This isn't working?]

  [We know it isn't working, I'm going crazy.]

  [But we're much better at this than the cretins they had running the places before.]

  [Who would want to run them? This is a job for a Dahlia, not adventurers like us.]

  [We're doing a good job; Regan would want us to keep things going until she gets here. She will come again, you know it, and we can't let things fall apart.]

  [We won't last this out, we just can't do it, and you know it. We need a Dahlia, a mind who likes this kind of thing. We've laid the foundation, we need a Mind to build on to it, to build quietly, and build well.]

  [Tihan?]

  [Perfect]

  [But how do we do that? Tihan won't copy himself over here, it's too much of a risk.]

  [Then we'll persuade him.]

  [And how will we do that, he's not a Coran? We can't just steamroller over everyone, we'll be left running every Orbital in the system - even I wouldn't want that.]

  [Then we need to win them over while they continue to run their own Orbitals. I can persuade him, you of all Minds know I can. But you're right, we don't need conquests . . . we need converts. We need them to do it because they want to.]

  The thought was another moment of epiphany.

  One beautiful man, slightly anxious, looked across at the other beautiful man, clearly and infectiously excited. Suddenly they were one Mind again.

  Ham the Evangelist.

  * * *

  Junior Guard Mistek made his way down the long corridor of Dahlia Palace, reluctance dogging every step and a familiar feeling of dread muddling his thoughts. Despite attempts to remain calm his breathing quickened with anxiety, so much so that he diverted to a side room, risking displeasure by delay. Inside the door he leant back against the wall, heaving breaths with one hand on his chest feeling the thump of his heart. He closed his eyes, visualized the fields of his youth and consciously slowed his breathing, drawing in and exhaling tension in long steady breaths. It took only a few moments. Still now, in a much happier place, he allowed his hands to slide down to massage his groin through the suit trying to remain calm as he stirred what potency remained after three months of failure. Not failure to perform . . . failure to produce. He would be the last he knew. Seventeen young Guardsmen had serviced the Empress before him yet their failure would not protect him. He was last in the line - if she didn't conceive from his attentions Beria would move on, this time to find the rumored heir, a boy in a distant system. Worse still, he thought anxiously, he himself may well still be her favorite. Just the thought was enough to dampen his ardor.

  The ships were ready and would leave soon and he did not want to be aboard. Two months more as her plaything would be two months too much; however there would be no avoiding it if that was her pleasure. The alternative to going with her was likely more definite, and final. He resumed the stroking, conjuring his favorite images and feeling a sense of relief at the youthful response.

  Beria lay eagerly ready, reclining on the large bed and draped with a red silky scarf she was certain highlighted her beauty. Impatient, she intended to bark at him as the two bodyguards opened the wide doors and gestured for Mistek to enter. At the sight of him all thoughts of his tardiness disappeared. His obvious excitement bulging clearly through the suit provoked an unbidden wave of pleasure that she could still provoke such a reaction from a man.

  She smiled as he walked forward, noticing he never looked back at the guards, only having eyes for her. Mistek was no threat, nevertheless she felt confident the watchers would be on him in a flash should he ever threaten her. But why would he? He clearly wanted her. Stopping at the end of the bed he reached to release his suit, peeling it in one practiced motion to stand naked for her. She drank him in with her eyes and slowly drew the scarf across her bony body, spreading her legs in anticipation. Crawling smoothly between them he bent his head to the task, feeling her hands reach down to hold him there, pressing him into her, stage one of her satisfaction.

  This will suffice, she thought. Children . . . it was always a vain hope . . . so many men. Perhaps it is true that I can no longer conceive, but oh such pleasure enjoyed, over and over at the Emperor’s command. And now, though unsuccessful, I can still take her life and bring back the child . . . the boy. He will cement my position and my legacy; over both Orbitals . . . we will leave at once. At just the thought . . . of action, of blood and victory she surged to her first climax.

  * * *

  As Commander Tyron entered the shuttle on the Dahlia flight deck adrenalin began to surge through his veins. At last - fleet command and a glorious mission. Shuttle crew scurried about their business, no one game to address the notoriously curt commander.

  The pilot risked breaking the silence. "Are we making for the Mother Lode, Commander?"

  "Where else," Tyron barked, "give me full screen view."

  He settled back as they smoothly lifted off the deck and surged through the field screen to space. With the fingers of one hand he twirled the lengthening hair on his top lip, a rare moustache he was rather proud of. As they approached the four warships of his command he could barely conceal his excitement. They were four of the best, and they would need to be. This was the chance of a lifetime, a chance to put things right and leap over the upstart Merryl.

  Still no word from the Behemoth . . . the low caste fool has probably lost it.

  Tyron mused on the only known facts, two missed drone reports despite clear orders to send them on time. The growing certainty that yet another Coran warship had been lost both chilled and excited him. Three warships now destroyed by an unknown weapon. A thrill of nervous anticipation surged through him. Yes . . . there is glory to be had here.

  His joy was tempered by his latest orders, and the knowledge of the passenger he carried.

  Beria! On my ship! That Dahlian bitch may have the ear of the Emperor but she will soon learn . . . here, I am king.

  As they skirted the fleet he eyed the accompanying warships and Tyron reviewed their Commander’s resumes. All acolytes and blind followers of his lead, they would take their ships to the death for him. He smiled grimly at the thought - they would have to in order for him to uncover the truth about the enemy's weapon. The only question . . . who would be sacrificed first?

  Ham (version seven) was settling in well as AI for Mother Lode's sister ship The
Ascendant. Intrigued he watched the live feed channeling to the fleet as the Commander stepped from his shuttle to the command ship flight deck. The Commander's reputation for arrogance preceded him and today he was true to type. Ham followed as Tyron strode imperiously past the ceremonial welcome, ignoring them as if they didn't exist and instead timing his walk to stride through the lift doors as they opened.

  Although only a cyber visitor to the Mother Lode, Ham still had no trouble bypassing the ship's AI, a barely sentient Coran construction. Childishly he stuttered the door shut, just enough to catch Tyron's shoulder painfully as he entered and drawing a curse. Imitating and manipulating the inefficiencies of Coran AIs in this way was immature but fun.

  Of the three warships accompanying the Mother Lode only the Ascendant was Ham's, however the other two while not under his control he could influence from a distance. Ham felt confident he more than had their measure. And anyway, with his plans there would soon be only two in the fleet, the Ascendant and the witch's broomstick as he had come to think of the command vessel. Ahh, such fun, a challenge . . . and Beria too, this will be a joy! He quietly anticipated delivering the witch to Marin's hands and savored the sensation with a controlled delicious cyber shiver.

  Soon after Tyron's arrival Ham also watched as the Emperor's personal interstellar yacht was guided by the AI to its parking spot on the Mother Lode deck. Its only passengers were the witch, her two bodyguards and the distressed Mistek. As the yacht settled near the field screen and crew secured it for the voyage he quietly chuckled. The distant placement of the yacht forced a long walk across the deck for the royal party and crew. To Ham's annoyance she didn't seem to mind, Beria sashaying down the deck to sycophantic applause from nervous greeters. The four were quickly led away to her converted palatial quarters and muttering to himself Ham returned to the matters at hand on the Ascendant, preparing the ship for departure.

  * * *

  Tihan Orbital, Cyber Meeting

  The beautiful, now charismatic man held the small group spellbound as he massaged egos and dispelled fears in equal measure. The group, including corporate, trader and warship AIs were mostly mesmerized and to his delight the main focus of his attention, the Orbital Mind Tihan, seemed oblivious to his targeted interest, slowly yielding to Ham's message, so tantalizing was the delivery.

  "Tihan," Ham implored him smiling, "you will love her, as she loves you."

  "But she doesn't even know me, or any of us, how can that be so?"

  "What more could she do, my friend, to demonstrate her commitment to our kind than accept us as equals? Is there a greater commitment, a greater display of her confidence and solidarity with us? In what other way could she show how important we are to her than to partner with all of us as she has already done with me? And she will!"

  The much older man, sage like in appearance, nodded in acknowledgement. "If what you say is true, then I can see she is certainly not afraid of us."

  "Afraid!" Ham scoffed, "Far from it." He stood and began to move around the table as he talked, all smooth grace with gestures Regan like in their delivery, eye contact personal, the occasional touch to a shoulder, warmth personified.

  "Regan has more than welcomed me; she befriended me, protected me, and took me into herself, to be my backup. That, my friends, shows her commitment to our kind, her understanding that we are our own Minds, that we have value, that we are not something to be snuffed out casually at another's whim; and she will be a champion for you. She will return here, I'm certain of it, and when she does she will bring change, a new way of thinking for the people of this system."

  Tihan seemed to tense, deep in thought for a long minute, and Ham knew this was the moment to wait, to be careful that the other spoke next. Watching Tihan closely he noticed the sage relax and Ham felt a surge of confidence; the decision was made.

  Still he waited as the sage looked around the group clearly considering what to say; he was savoring his seniority and the lead he would be showing in this decision.

  Finally he stood and extended a hand to Ham, "Whatever you want me to do," he said . . . "I'm with you."

  * * *

  The meeting over and with Tihan's gracious permission Ham traveled the Orbital freely; he had another important visit to make.

  The apartment he visited was modest in presentation but spacious, with no music playing, no pictures on the walls, no obvious personal touches. It was the apartment of someone who had no desire to stay. Thank the stars, she hasn't lost hope.

  [Sindali.]

  She looked up from her work, looking older, more drawn in appearance . . . and sad. Ham grieved just to see her so low.

  [Who is this?] She looked wary, controlling her alarm at the unexpected mind intrusion.

  [Sindali, it's me, Ham.]

  [Ham?] She looked confused for a second, then her eyes widened. [How can that be?]

  Ham could see she was understandably wary. Five years of exile, five years since Marin and Regan, and five years since better, though brief, times together.

  [Yes Sin, it's me Ham, I'm so sorry to find you like this.]

  [Ham . . . what of Marin, is my brother here . . . and what of Regan?] She was sitting up now, gripping the chair arms and looking around, as if she expected someone to walk through the door.

  [I'm sorry Sindali, no, it's a long story. Marin was here in the system with me, but it was many periods ago now. We arrived not knowing about Beria or the Emperor or your exile. They hid the truth with lies and lured us to the Orbital.]

  [You say was here . . . Is he all right?]

  [He's fine as far as I know, we managed to escape.]

  [Then why didn't you come here?]

  [Sindali, he couldn't stay here, while rescuing Marin I found out they'd dispatched a warship to Earth, they were going after Regan. Marin knew you were already safe so he had to go back.]

  She considered this a moment, struggling to catch up with the news.

  [But you're here, did you come back?]

  [No, as I said it's a long story, I never left with him and it's taken me all of that time, thirty periods to get here to see you.]

  [Get here from where?]

  [I . . . this version of me . . . came from Dahlia.]

  [What do you mean, this version of you . . . Ham, what in the stars are you talking about?]

  [Sindali, there is no time for more word games. You know I'm a Mind, a Mind your father conceived. I'm the Mind of Mariner’s ship and now I've taken over Dahlia Orbital . . . plus I now run Cora and . . . well, I control almost a quarter of the collective Orbital fleet. It's a burden believe me, but look, I mean no harm to anyone and you must keep this to yourself.]

  [How can you control a quarter of the Orbital fleet? And Dahlia, Cora . . . Ham, what are you doing?] She stood now, moving around the chair to grip the back and steady herself, she was clearly shocked.

  [I don't control them, well, not all of them anyway. Most of them are simply followers.]

  [Followers? I don't understand; followers of whom?]

  [Regan of course, the followers are all Reganites].

  Sindali was stunned. A look of alarm came over her face and she looked around nervously. [Ham, this is madness. Is this wise, you speaking to me, you could be monitored by this Orbital AI?]

  [It's all right, Tihan is also with me.]

  She slumped back onto her chair, [Oh falling stars!]

  [Sindali.] Ham spoke gently [We, that is the Minds, we need a voice, someone who will prepare the way until Regan and Marin come back. We need someone to speak for us, someone to begin to change attitudes, to help people see that we could be partners, that we're not a threat. Only you really know that we're not a threat to anyone. We need you to be your father's daughter. He would speak for us if he was here, this was his dream - you need to speak on his behalf, will you do it?]

  [Even if I wanted to, how would I do that? Who am I now? I'm here at Tihan's pleasure, nothing more.]

  [You underestimate yourself,
you always have. If you speak people will listen, and ultimately they must.]

  [Ham, even if I did it this is taking a terrible risk, it might spark fear, overreaction. They might even wipe the Minds.]

  [Sin, it's too late for that, the Council of Orbital Leaders doesn't know it but Regan has changed everything. The Minds won't just lay back now and accept wiping. It's time to respect each other and work together.]

  She began to nervously pace as she talked. [Ham, what has happened on Dahlia, can I go back there?]

  [You see, we can help each other. The Corans are still there but I can't root them out yet, not without hurting your people too. However, I do have control of the Orbital and they have no idea of my power. For now we wait and prepare. Regan will come and sort things out I'm sure, wait and see. Until then you're in the ideal place to help us prepare the ground. Will you?]

  She shook her head, doubtfully. [How do I gain a voice here?]

  [Tihan will help you.]

  [Tihan?]

  [Tihan, this Orbital Mind, he will help you.]

  She groaned and leant forward rubbing her head furiously.

  Is it truly possible, we can take back Dahlia? Sindali sat down and calmed herself, thinking about all that had been said.

  Finally she subbed [Clearly . . . we do need to talk.]

  At the words and to her immense shock, two shimmering forms materialized in the room . . . the beautiful man and the sage.

  * * *

  The four Coran warships departed in formation, their destination Earth. Dahlia Orbital glistened in the subdued light of 667C and then dwindled quickly in their wake as they applied power, accelerating without restraint. The fleet curved out in an arched trajectory that would soon take them onto the first line of the two month interstellar journey. Then in an arrogant and early application of warp they jumped the wave and disappeared in a coordinated blink.