Voyage of the Valkyrie

by Robert Horseman

  He smiled, took a long step into the tiny room, and wrapped her in his arms.

  ***

  Mac sat in the co-pilot seat watching the instruments while Rae’s drone piloted the shuttle down to the surface. Their descent was choreographed to keep their small shuttle in communications range of the orbiting Valkyrie, while approaching the Redshift base from the far side of the dark planet. From behind her, Cale said, “Mac, I hope you know what you’re doing. Those fifty mining drones in the back are some of the most tightly restricted pieces of equipment around. We can’t just trade them for our crew. Even if we succeed and survive, we could end up spending ten years in jail, maybe a lot more. Is it worth it?”

  Mac swiveled her seat to face Cale, who sat with his arms crossed in the shuttle’s jump seat. She could tell he was worried, just as he should be. Hell, she was petrified. A million things could go wrong with her plan, not the least of which was the potential aftermath of success, but it was all she could come up with.

  “If you were captured and about to be sold as a slave, and the UDA didn’t do everything in its power to rescue you, how would you feel? How would your family feel?”

  He looked into his lap and shook his head. “Yeah, I know. I’m just worried is all. Mining drone tech is some of the most sophisticated available, or so I’ve heard. Giving it away feels like we’re giving them the keys to the kingdom.”

  “Do you know what makes mining drones so special?”

  “Well, I know that they dig 24 hours a day, require little maintenance, no food, lighting, air or water, and can analyze ore in real time. Their mining productivity has got to be a lot more than that of human miners.”

  Mac nodded. “All true, but that’s not why they are restricted. One of my uncles is a UDA mining resources manager. He runs mining operations on a dozen UDA protected planets, providing raw materials for the fleet. He told me more about mining drones than he should have, but he never could resist his inquisitive little niece.”

  “Yeah? I’m having a hard time with that too.”

  Mac couldn’t keep the blush from spreading across her face. “Let’s focus here, shall we? If you had just a single mining drone, you’d have close to quadruple the productivity of a human miner with modern mining tools. What takes them to the higher level has nothing to do with the hardware. When you put at least ten drones together, they form a communications collective, sharing information and extrapolating ore seam locations. The more drones you have, the more intelligent the collective. While not a true AI in the traditional sense, grouped together they exhibit many of the same attributes. Now consider what would happen if they weren’t programmed for mining?”

  “What else could they be programmed for?”

  “Anything. Underground warfare for a start. Change the hardware and you could have a semi-independent space-based military force. The key is the cooperative collective AI, not the hardware. That’s why they are restricted.”

  Cale’s eyes grew wide. “Wait, you had Rae reprogram them, right? Are we going to have the drones dig their way into the facility?”

  “We can’t. The planet’s atmosphere is deadly. Everyone inside without an environmental suit would be dead, including our crew.”

  “So what then?”

  “Have you ever heard of Epeus, or the ancient legend of the Trojan Horse?”

  “No, I can’t say that I have.”

  “It goes something like this. In ancient times, an Earth tribe called the Greeks besieged the city of Troy for ten years before apparently giving up and departing, leaving behind a huge wooden horse. The Trojans were horse lovers and pulled it inside the city, apparently thinking it a parting gift. That night as the city celebrated the end of the siege, the Greek warriors hidden inside the horse let themselves out and opened the city gates. The Greek army doubled back, and entered and destroyed the city.”

  Cale looked thoughtful. “I take it the mining drones are our Trojan Horse?”

  “That’s close. Think of them as the Greek soldiers hidden inside the horse.”

  ***

  Rae scanned for and found the locations of all the weapons emplacements around the base. While the overlapping fields of fire were reasonably well planned, there were several narrow gaps that Rae used to their advantage. They descended with all lights off, and landed using sensors alone about two kilometers south of the Redshift base on a plain dotted with ice boulders. She assumed that Redshift had detected their descent and arrival anyway, which gave her little time to waste. She flipped to the emergency com channel and keyed her mic. “This is Ensign Mackenzie Pickett of the UDA Corvette Valkyrie. I would like to make a deal to secure the release of our crew. Please reply on this channel.”

  She released the mic and listened to static pop and hiss for twenty seconds before trying again. She was halfway through her third attempt when the com screen came on, showing a gaunt middle aged man with leathery skin and thinning hair.

  He said, “My name is,” he paused and shrugged, “irrelevant. We will not be releasing your crew. They have already been indoctrinated, and are awaiting pickup by one of our clients. We have several ships on the way. Unless you’d like to join your crew, I highly recommend you leave right now.”

  “Don’t you want to hear what I have to offer?”

  “There isn’t anything on the Valkyrie we need. Certainly nothing as valuable as your crew.”

  Mac reached down and carefully picked up a mining drone with both hands. It was spherical, about a half-meter in diameter, and studded with razor sharp cutting heads. “Not even mining drones?”

  The man’s eyes went wide before he recovered his composure. “And why would I be interested in mining drones?”

  Mac shrugged, “I was informed you sell captured crews as miners, so I assumed you would be interested. Apparently I was wrong. I’ll return them for recycling. Sorry to bother you.” She reached down to the console and terminated the transmission.

  Cale grinned at her. “I thought he was about to have a coronary when he saw the mining drone. Well played.”

  “Yeah, but it’s only well played if he tries to reestablish contact.”

  A moment later the screen came back to life, and the same man said, “We might be interested. Say, half your crew for thirty drones.”

  “It’s all or nothing. All our crew, plus the antidote for your indoctrination, for forty drones.”

  His face grew red. “For all your crew I need sixty drones, and we will not release the antidote under any circumstances. I’m sure you’ll understand how closely we guard that intellectual property.”

  Mac paused as if weighing the offer. “Fifty drones for the entire crew. That’s my final offer. Take it or leave it.”

  He looked off camera for a moment, then said, “Acceptable. We need proof that the drones are real, however. We know you landed a few kilometers south of our entry port. Carry one drone to the port, and we will allow you to enter. I’m sending the coordinates now. If the drone is real, we have a deal. Come alone and unarmed.”

  “No tricks,” said Mac. “We have taken certain precautions.”

  “Yes, yes, of course. Alone and unarmed. You have two hours.” The screen went dark.

  Cale looked at her, his eyebrows furrowed. “This is insane, Mac. He’s not going to live up to the deal. You know that right?”

  Rae’s drone said, “Cale is right, Mac. I estimate a ninety-two percent chance he is lying.”

  “I’m counting on that. Stay with the plan, and we’ll get through this. Rae, you had better get going. Find a secure hidden spot where you can interface with both your core on the Valkyrie and the mining drones. Let’s roll people.”

  Chapter 19, Con Game

  The mining drone was cumbersome to carry, so Mac had Rae program it to follow her. It trailed behind like an obedient puppy, carving a shallow groove in the icy regolith. She wore a bulky excursion suit against the deep cold and low atmospheric pressure, and had attached crampons to the boots for bet
ter ice traction. It was the deepest dark she had ever experienced on a planet surface. By contrast, the twinkling galaxy overhead seemed set up for her enjoyment alone. It was a sight rarely seen even in the UDA, since shipboard lighting made the starscape a pale imitation of this brilliant tapestry. She would have lingered if she hadn’t been on a dangerous and probably insane mission. Instead, she trudged through a surreal landscape lit only by her helmet lamps. It took her ninety exhausting minutes to walk the two kilometers to the base’s entrance, the heavy suit making her work for every step.

  She knew where the base was, but was nevertheless surprised when she arrived. The old space station was dark and buried so deep that just fifteen meters protruded above the surface. All but the entry port was covered with an uneven layer of surface ice. A portico of sorts had been constructed from refrozen ice in front of the original cargo bay hatch to provide a horizontal entryway. Two enormous closed hanger doors were inset into an ice wall, and she stopped ten meters short to survey the area. She stood on relatively flat ground devoid of ice boulders, no doubt intended as a landing pad. Brilliant lights came on, and a man-size door next to the hanger doors slid aside. She walked to the door and peered inside. An ice tunnel long enough to accommodate a large shuttle led to another set of large doors. Apparently this was an enormous airlock. She picked up the mining drone and stepped inside. The door slid closed behind her, and she fought a moment of panic. Rae had maintained radio silence, but a readout inside her helmet told her that signal strength was strong and everything was going according to plan. That wasn’t much consolation, however. She took a deep calming breath and carried the drone to the inner man-sized door. A standard air-lock panel next to the door showed the rising air pressure and temperature. She waited ten minutes for the large airlock to stabilize at one earth atmosphere pressure, and minus five degrees Celsius. She had no doubt that the airlock’s atmosphere could be restored far more rapidly than it was. They were probably buying themselves time.

  When the panel’s readout turned green, the inner door slid aside. She stepped to it and looked through into the original Arbitrage class space station’s shuttle bay. A man she did not recognize stood a dozen paces beyond the door, flanked by the irrelevant administrator and a half dozen haphazardly uniformed security personnel. She slid her helmet’s locking ring sideways, pulled it off, and hung it on her belt. Her breath fogged in the cold air, which smelled vaguely of solvents.

  “Welcome, Ensign Pickett, to our humble station. You may call me Colonel. As you might imagine, we do not get many guests here, and have little to offer you in way of refreshment. But please, do come in.”

  The man’s short speech gave Mac the shivers. The aristocratic tone, precise diction, and perfect monotone conveyed no warmth whatsoever. He was tall, bald, and featured a prominent nose that looked to have been broken and poorly reset several times. She had no doubt that this was the man Grace had told them about, Bacchus Moorstone. She stepped through the door, which slid shut behind her, and spent a moment looking around to get her bearings. Several small shuttle craft were present, but most seemed to be missing major components. The largest shuttle seemed to be intact, and Mac suspected it was the one that had brought the Valkyrie’s crew here.

  A middle-aged female tech in green overalls came and took the drone from her, a wide grin on her face. Mac turned to the Colonel and said, “I want to see the crew. All of them, or we have no deal.”

  “Of course, of course. Please follow me.”

  Mac hesitated a moment, took another look around, and fell into step several yards behind the man and three of his security detail. The other half of the security team waited until she passed, then stepped into line behind her. She was bracketed by armed personnel inside a fortified Redshift base and, she reflected, out of her goddamned mind.

  The “Colonel” led their small group around the large shuttle and stopped. Mac’s mouth fell open as she saw the Valkyrie’s small shuttle sitting there, along with a flat cargo hauler loaded with their fifty mining drones. Cale was trussed to the back end of the hauler, his head down. Even though this was not unexpected, the speed of their response left her a bit dazed. Mac trudged over to Cale and lifted his head. Saliva drooled down his chin and his eyes were rolled back in his head. Mac felt a surge of guilt and anger, and let it loose. “What the hell is wrong with you people?” she screamed. “We had a deal.”

  “Did we? That seems unlikely. Redshift doesn’t make deals with the UDA.” His voice was calm and reasonable, as though talking to a class of small children. “We take what we want, and we wanted your mining drones. You left them out on the plain unprotected, ripe for the taking. Pretty stupid of you, I must say. Now we have you, your crew, the mining drones, and shortly the Valkyrie once again as well. What did you hope to accomplish? Did you really think a lowly ensign could take on Redshift?”

  She turned her face to the Colonel and spat at him. “Yeah, I did. Especially given how easily we destroyed your two defense platforms and your worthless military vessel. You seemed pretty inept to me. You didn’t even have the forethought to outfit your vessels with adequate power systems.”

  His face turned red. “You may not feel that way after a few months in the mines. Come to think of it, you won’t feel much of anything very soon. I’m sure you’ll just love mining.” He turned to a subordinate and nodded. The man muttered something into a wrist-com, and a moment later Douglas Horne, the Valkyrie’s Captain, tottered around the shuttle as though walking was a task requiring utmost concentration.

  Mac said, “Captain? Captain Horne?” He mumbled and looked up at the sound of his name, and when his gaze landed on Mac a child’s wide smile crossed his face.

  When he didn’t answer, the Colonel said, “He can hear you just fine, Ensign Pickett. He just doesn’t have anything to say, and never will again. His indoctrination is complete, and now we need to get yours underway so you’ll be ready when our transport vessel arrives.” He turned to the guards and said, “Take them all below.”

  Two guards grabbed her and pushed her forward. She stumbled a step, caught her balance, then keyed her lip mike and said, “Trojan horse,” the execution word she had decided on earlier. She had hoped to see the entire crew before doing so, but at least seeing the Captain meant that they were all still here.

  All the mining drones spun up at once with a loud whine, and erupted off the cargo hauler. Ten drones spread rapidly out over the hanger floor, their cutting blades making deep gouges. Mac covered her ears. As Rae had programmed them to do, the other forty ground their way through the floor and disappeared amidst a cloud of metal and plastine shavings, dust, and screaming noise. A guard turned a pulse rifle on the nearest mining drone remaining in the hanger, and fired. The blast slammed into the drone, tossing it up and back at least fifteen meters in a cloud of plasma and smoke. The drone fell back to the deck, then shot forward at the guard who had fired. Drones were meant to bore through the hardest rock in the harshest possible conditions, which meant they were essentially impervious to hand weapons fire. It also meant that the guard didn’t stand a chance. The drone sawed through the screaming guards lower legs as though they weren’t there, then reversed three times until all that remained was a mass of ground up meat, bone, and light armor. Rae’s reprogramming had worked flawlessly, but Mac heaved involuntarily at the grisly sight and had to turn away.

  She turned on the Colonel, who seemed to have lost his composure. He stumbled back a step and landed heavily on the floor.

  She said, “I’m sorry Colonel, or should I call you Bacchus Moorstone? You still seem pretty inept to me. Tell me, do you know why mining drones are so tightly controlled by the UDA?”

  He stared in horror at the mess that the guard had become, and shook his head.

  “It should be obvious to you now. It’s because they are easily converted into unstoppable weapons. Tell your guards throughout the base to drop their weapons and come to this hanger level immediately. Tell them what hap
pens if they fire on the drones, do anything to harm the Valkyrie’s crew, or attempt to contact anyone outside the base.”

  Chapter 20, The Crew

  Mac cut the bindings that held Cale to the cargo hauler, and lowered him to the deck. She placed a medical cuff from their shuttle around his upper arm, and selected the diagnostic mode. It was going to be hard to manage the twenty-nine or so remaining Redshift prisoners and forty-eight sleep-walking Valkyrie crew with just two people, or three if she counted Rae. She had to have Cale’s help. Right, and that’s the only reason you need him, she thought.

  The cuff made a slight hiss as it administered a drug, and his eyelids fluttered. She peered at the diagnostic readout, which indicated he had been hit by a stun weapon. He would be fine in a few hours, but the hangover would be fierce.

  “Cale, can you hear me? Wake up, Ensign. Duty calls.”

  He groaned, muttered, “Nag, nag, nag,” and rolled away from her. He’d be awake in a few moments anyway from the cuff’s stimulant, so she let him be.

  She looked up at the sound of footsteps as the first contingent of Redshift personnel made their way up from the lower levels to the far wall of the hanger, corralled by mining drones. Each face turned ashen in apparent shock as they saw the chewed meat on the floor as they passed. Good, that would certainly cow them if nothing else did.

  Rae’s drone stepped around the shuttle in full human appearance and said, “I interfaced with the base’s computer core, and took the liberty of letting myself in. Am I too late to join the party?”

  Mac felt unexpected relief wash through her. She never would have guessed that the appearance of any drone, AI or not, would have that effect on her, but she had grown to think of Rae as a friend. “You’re just in time. We’ve got a lot to do with just a few hands, and not much time to do it in.”

  Rae’s head turned and surveyed the assembling Redshift personnel. “This station is equipped with fifteen antiquated maintenance drones, and although they have not been used in quite some time, twelve of them appear to be functional. I can control them through my link with the station’s core. Would you like me to activate them?”