by Ryk Brown
“We did not come with the expectation of negotiating the price of a commodity,” Major Waddell stated. “We were only seeking information.”
“Information is a commodity, Major,” Garrett told him, “at least, it is on Tanna.”
“I am not authorized to negotiate on behalf of the Alliance,” Major Waddell stated plainly.
“Then you have come ill-prepared.” Garrett turned around to walk away again. “A pity since the facilities you seek are within reach.”
“Why don’t you talk with our captain?” Loki suggested.
Major Waddell glared at Loki as if he had committed a terrible mistake.
Garrett stopped in his tracks. “He is nearby?” he asked without turning around.
“Near enough…”
“Mister Sheehan,” Major Waddell interrupted.
“Oh, come on, Major. We need information. He has it. He wants to be compensated for his risk, and he questions who and what we are. Why not just show him?”
“We are not authorized to…”
“Then call the ship and ask,” Loki said.
“You can contact your ship so easily?” Garrett asked, having turned back around.
“It’s a little more complicated than that,” Major Waddell assured him.
“When is the next contact window?” Loki asked, wanting to cut through all the subterfuge.
Major Waddell looked at his watch and sighed. “In less than an hour, actually.”
“I would very much like to speak with your captain,” Garrett said as he moved a step closer.
Major Waddell grabbed Loki by the arm and pulled him away from Garrett, taking several steps back as he turned away from their hosts. “This is not a good idea, Mister Sheehan.”
“Why not?”
“We know nothing about this man. He could be a Jung spy for all we know.”
“He’s one guy, Major. What’s he going to do, take over the entire ship by himself?”
“Possibly, or destroy it.”
“You’re just being paranoid.”
“That is part of my job.”
“Just ask the captain,” Loki said. “Let him decide.”
Major Waddell sighed again. “You have put us in a very dangerous position, Mister Sheehan.”
Major Waddell turned back around to face Garrett. “I will make contact with our ship and pass on the idea to my captain. I cannot promise that he will agree. I would not be so inclined were I in his position.”
“I understand,” Garrett said. “And how long will this take?”
“At least seven of our hours. We have very limited contact windows that only last a few minutes. We will send the request to our ship, and the response should come during the next scheduled contact.”
“Excellent,” Garrett said, obviously delighted with the outcome of their conversation.
“I will need a clear line of sight to your eastern sky.” Major Waddell pointed to one side of the building. “That direction.”
“There is a storage yard behind this building. It is contained within high walls. You will not be noticed.”
“Our communication equipment uses lasers aimed at a precise point in space. Will this be detectable by the Jung?”
“Doubtful, but I cannot guarantee this.”
“Where do I go?”
“I will show you the way,” Garrett said, walking past the major as he headed for the back exit.
“What do you think the captain will say?” Loki mumbled nervously.
“I am certain he will be beside himself,” the major answered.
* * *
The Celestia’s unfinished corridors were dark and gloomy. The effect was intensified as Devyn’s helmet lights threw long shadows at odd angles down the corridor walls ahead. It had taken her nearly ten minutes to travel just from the engineering section’s transfer airlock, down the long corridor, and around the starboard side of the main cargo deck.
“How are you doing, Devyn?” Luis called over her helmet comms.
“Fine. I just wish we could turn on some lights in here. This place is creepy.”
“Sorry, we’re running on batteries right now.”
“It’s hard to judge distances and such with just the helmet lights,” she told him as she moved to one side of the corridor to avoid some exposed wiring in the wall. “There are a lot of open panels with exposed wiring. I don’t think any of it is hot, but I still don’t want to go anywhere near it.”
“Good idea,” Luis agreed. “How far have you gotten?”
“You’re not tracking me?”
“Battery power, remember?”
“I just started around the starboard side of the cargo bay.”
“Maybe you should take a peek in there and see if there’s anything useful.”
“Maybe I should stick to business for now, and not waste time and oxygen.”
“You said oxygen wasn’t an issue aft,” Luis reminded her.
“True, I did say that.” Devyn came to one of the main cargo hatches and stopped to read the label on the door. It was covered with a fine dust. She wiped it away with her gloved hand. “I’m at cargo bay door S4, the one farthest aft. How is it there’s dust inside a spaceship?”
“There’s dust everywhere,” Luis told her over the comms. “It’s one of the universal constants—that and cockroaches.”
“I don’t suppose we can spare power for the hatch?” she asked.
“Sorry.”
Devyn dropped the handle to the cart she had been pulling behind her, moved to the left side of the door, and opened the small access panel. She pulled a hand crank out of the small compartment recessed into the wall and inserted one end into the socket in the wall. She began turning the crank, causing the large cargo hatch to split vertically down the center. A fine stream of dust fell from the door as it slowly opened. Once the door was open about a meter, she stopped cranking and stepped through it.
Devyn stepped into the massive starboard cargo bay. She stopped just inside, turning her body slowly from left to right and back again as she scanned the bay with her helmet lights. “There’s a lot of stuff in here.”
“Like what?” Lieutenant Commander Kovacic asked over the comms.
“Looks like equipment mostly. Most of it is still wrapped in plastic and has the lift bars attached. It was probably waiting to be installed.”
“Can you be more specific?” the lieutenant commander asked.
“Not really, not without taking time to examine them. Some of the containers farther forward are pretty big. It looks like they might be entire compartments.”
“Nothing we can use right now, then?”
“Doesn’t look like it, sir. Like I said though, I’d have to take a closer look to be sure.”
“Maybe later, after everyone is safely aft,” the lieutenant commander said. “Continue forward, Ensign.”
“Aye, sir.”
After securing the cargo bay door, Devyn continued heading forward, pulling the cart containing the second EVA suit down the unlit corridor. “You know, none of these auxiliary cargo holds are even installed,” she said as she shined her helmet light into the openings in the corridor wall on her right. “I can see the inner hull in the distance through the hatch cutouts.”
“Seriously?” Luis asked, surprise in his voice.
“Yeah. Frames, spars, the works. It’s weird.” She paused for a moment as she stood in the opening panning her helmet lights back and forth. “You don’t realize how big the ship really is inside until you see it this way.”
Devyn continued forward, making her way around the main cargo bay until she finally reached the forward bulkhead. The main hatch to the next section was closed and painted red. “I’ve
reached the next bulkhead,” she announced. “The hatch is red.”
“So?” Luis asked.
“So, red is bad, right?”
“Red means no pressure on the other side,” Luis reminded her. “You’re already in a depressurized area, so what does it matter?”
“Just checking,” she said as she pulled the lever and unlocked the hatch. The hatch swung open with ease, a small amount of dust falling slowly from the hatch ring in the reduced gravity of Metis. She pulled the hatch all the way open and turned to shine her helmet lights into the next compartment before entering. Her eyes went wide. “Oh, crap.”
“What is it?” Luis asked. “What’s wrong?”
“There’s no deck on the other side.”
“What do you mean, ‘there’s no deck’?”
“I mean there is no deck,” she said. “No deck, no walls, no ceiling—just a big empty space. A few structural supports and cross bracing, but the nearest compartments are at least fifteen meters away. It looks like they didn’t finish installing all the forward compartments on this level—at least, not all the way back to this bulkhead.”
“What about on the other side?”
Devyn turned to her left, held onto the hatch frame, and leaned out through the hatch opening. “Nope. That side is even farther away.”
“What about above you?” Luis asked. “Can you tell if they finished that level?”
“Give me a moment.” Devyn turned around, putting her back to the open hatchway. She held on to both sides of the hatch and leaned backward into the opening, looking up as best she could. “Nope. I can see the bottom of the missile deck, but neither A nor B deck come all the way back to the main hangar deck yet.”
She shifted her angle from side to side as she attempted to get a better look. “I think there’s a beam or a catwalk of some sort up there. It looks like it goes from the main hangar deck to the last installed compartment on B deck.”
“Do you think you can make it across there?” Luis asked.
“I’m not sure. It’s hard to tell from this angle. I’ll have to climb up one deck and take a closer look at it.”
“Do you think it’s safe?”
“Going across that beam or climbing up one deck?” she said as she closed the hatch and locked it once more.
“You know what I mean.”
“I’ll let you know.”
* * *
“Sorry, it’s not exactly a feast,” Tony said as he handed Jessica a plastic tray of food.
“Are you kidding?” she answered as she eagerly accepted the steaming, hot tray from him. “Beats the hell out of molo and boiled dollag.”
Tony looked confused as he handed a similar tray to Synda before sitting down to eat his own tray of food.
“So you were in Fleet Special Operations?” Synda asked.
“Isn’t that, like, spy shit?” Tony asked.
“Something like that,” Jessica said as she took her first bite.
“How did you like it?” Synda wondered.
“Couldn’t really tell you.”
“Classified?”
“Nothing like that,” Jessica answered, not wanting to get into specifics. “Things changed, the Jung came along, and I got pushed into something else.”
“Like what?” Synda wondered.
“Now that part is classified,” Jessica told her.
“But the Fleet is gone,” Tony said. “The EDF was destroyed. What little was left went underground—at least, that’s the rumor.”
“Rumor?” Jessica said. “I thought you guys were trying to hook up with them.”
“Well, yeah, but since we still haven’t been able to, I couldn’t tell you if there really is an underground resistance or not.”
“But there are reports of strikes all over the world,” Synda argued. “I see them on the news-vids online all the time.”
“They could just be local wannabes like us,” Tony said. “It’s not like they’re all wearing uniforms and waving the same flag and stuff. They’re all like us: a bunch of guys with guns and shit, shooting at the Jung and blowing stuff up.” Tony looked down at the floor. “Not that it’s accomplishing much.”
“It wasn’t your idea to blow up those people, was it?” Synda asked.
“No, but I didn’t argue against it, either,” he said, looking away. “It all made sense the way Mack explained it and all. Besides, he had all the guns.”
“That guy was scary,” Synda said.
“Yeah, he can be,” Tony said. “He just really wanted to fuck with the Jung as much as possible.”
“People like that just want an excuse to shoot their guns,” Jessica warned. “They can always find a way to justify their violent acts.” She swallowed the last of her food and chased it down with the remaining contents of her water bottle. “Don’t beat yourself up about it too much,” Jessica told Tony. “And don’t be dumb enough to fall in with that type again,” she added, pointing at him.
“I should have done like everyone else,” Tony said.
“How’s that?” Jessica asked.
“Do my job, stay out of trouble, and steer clear of the Jung. Most people say the Jung won’t bother you if you just do your part.”
“What’s your part?” Jessica said.
“The Jung want to build a better society for all,” Synda said, rolling her eyes. “They say our leaders have been lying to us for centuries, keeping us under their control, feeding us the ‘myth of freedom’,” she explained. “It’s all a bunch of crap. They just want obedient laborers.”
“Maybe, but most people prefer it to starving or sleeping in the street,” Tony said.
“That’s the way it works,” Jessica said. “Make the alternative bad enough, and anything looks good. That’s how propaganda works.”
A faint chime sounded from Tony’s network terminal on the other side of the room. Tony turned his head, somewhat surprised, and listened for the sound to repeat.
“What?” Jessica wondered.
The chime repeated. “That’s not possible,” Tony said, rising from his seat in earnest.
“What’s not possible?” Jessica asked.
Tony dropped into the chair in front of the network terminal. He hesitantly touched the angled view screen with the index finger of his right hand, disbelief on his face. “We got an answer,” he exclaimed.
“Already?”
“It’s true,” Tony added. “The resistance does monitor that message board.” Tony turned to face Jessica, who was already making her way across the room toward him. “After trying for so long, I was beginning to think Mack made all that stuff up. But we got an answer.”
“How do we know it’s really from the resistance?” Synda wondered, appearing somewhat suspicious.
“What does the message say?” Jessica asked, coming to stand next to Tony.
“It has an attachment. It’s a join-key.”
“What’s a join-key?” Synda asked.
“It’s a single-use, short-lived invitation from the sender to create an encrypted comm-tunnel through one of the MARSs.”
“The what?” Synda wondered.
“Mobile Anonymous Routing Servers,” Tony reminded her. “I told you about them.”
“Is this comm-tunnel secure?” Jessica asked.
“You know how they say that no net-link is completely secure?”
Jessica looked at Tony out of the corner of her eye as she studied the screen. “Yeah?”
“This is as close as you can get to proving that wrong.”
“How short-lived?”
“The key is supposed to be good for a minute from the time of post. Then the session limit per key is usually five minutes or less.”
“
Accept it,” Jessica told him.
“Wait, are you sure that’s a good idea?” Synda said.
“Are you sure?” Tony asked.
Jessica nodded. “Do it.”
Tony tapped the spinning key icon on the screen with his finger. The entire screen turned black. A moment later, a white box appeared in the middle of the screen. “This is too cool.”
“Why did it go all black?” Synda asked.
“Black means secure,” Tony explained. “You know, all the doors and windows are closed and the lights are turned off. If it turns white, that means the key expired and the secure tunnel is open. If it turns red, you’re dead.”
“Dead?” Synda repeated.
“As in, you’ve been traced and the Jung are about to break down your door.”
“Does that happen often?” Synda asked.
“As far as I know, it’s never happened.”
“Why is the box empty?” Jessica wondered.
“They have to start the conversation,” Tony explained.
Jessica looked at the top right corner of the white box. “I suppose that’s the countdown timer.”
“When it hits zero, the tunnel closes automatically.”
“According to that, we’ve got less than two minutes remaining,” Synda commented.
“Like I said, short-lived,” Tony said.
“They’re being cautious,” Jessica said.
A message began spelling out across the top of the white box on the view screen. “They’ve started,” Tony announced, leaning forward.
Jessica peered down to read the message as it typed out across the top of the box.
“They’re asking who you are,” Tony said.
“In plain text? No encryption?” Jessica asked, somewhat surprised.
“The tunnel itself is encrypted,” Tony reminded her.
Jessica frowned. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure. Besides, you’re down to just over a minute now.”
“Move over,” Jessica ordered as she took his seat and began to type.