With a wink, she replied, “I love a man when he tries to be strong. I just get goosebumps and all fluttery inside.”
9
Even the Scorned
After departing from what had been homebase, but was now an empty shell of a room, Butterfield stopped at an ESRC and opened the cabinet, again using her countermand device.
“I need nourishment. Do you two care for something?” Butterfield asked as she pulled out a small box and ripped the top of it open. An aroma of pleasant-smelling, warm food flooded the area. “Not like Mommy used to make, and the Benefactor would never settle for SA emergency supplies—oh, SA means suspended animation, a primitive thing we have here on the Trailblazer, but hot and nutritious. But perhaps great adventurers from Dome 17 need no food or water, huh?” She took utensils from the side of the carton and scooped up a bite of the food.
Ken reached in and grabbed a box which was marked, “Lentil Stew With Sausages”
Janae considered, and she scanned the boxes. Some of the labels used terms she did not recognize, “Chapaties, Sooji Halwa, Vegetable Pulav” and another was labeled, “Potato, Tilapia, Peas Curry, Chocolate Bar.” She grabbed the one which had “Chocolate Bar” on it, and stepped to the side. She still wanted to keep the revenger ready, but could not eat and hold the weapon on Butterfield, so she said, “Ken, you eat now, and when you are done eating your ration. Then I will eat mine.”
“Oh, good idea, Janae, you do not want me to use this spoon as a fearsome weapon of war.” Butterfield waved the spoon which had a glob of food on its end. “Thinking tactically again, yes, you are.”
Janae just shook her head, and watched while Ken consumed the food. A few puzzled expressions crossed his face while he ate, but he then finished, and pulled his revenger out. “Janae, is absolutely right. No tricks now.”
“Oh, Ken, do you want to put me in restraints, too? Or shall we save that for a more intimate time, later?” Butterfield winked and grinned.
While Ken guarded Butterfield, who was eating slowly, he also pulled the other boxes out of the ESRC and loaded them into his backpack. He looked inside, and recalled their lost the medical kit and wondered where it was, and if they would ever retrieve it.
“I am finished,” Janae announced. The meal was different than anything she had had before, and the wide variety of foods on the Trailblazer was still a wonder to her, while she missed the stability and consistency of the food ration bars from Dome 17. However, the chocolate she had taken a bite of was tasty in an appealing way. She slipped the rest of that bar in a front pocket of her RAM suit.
“May I carry a meal for later?” Butterfield asked in a mockingly demure voice. “There is a ‘Spicy Beef With Spring Vegetables And Rice’ and that is one of my favorites. It is made from black bulls, like you saw in the ring.” Her eyes were wide as she gazed at Ken. “Remember the bull?”
“Where the tant?” he mumbled, as memories of that terror flooded his mind.
“How long will it take us to walk to Hanger 5?” Janae asked as she licked her lips. The chocolate taste was still lingering.
Not taking her eyes off of Ken, Butterfield responded, “Yes, that bull was a bovine, and beef comes from them. A delicious treat, and we will be walking a few hours, but not much more than that. May I please, take this one? You do not want me to go hungry, do you, pretty man?” she pulled the box off the shelf, and held it out. “I will carry it myself, and not burden either of you. There is also a water bottle here, and that will help me too. My mouth is parched and dry. It is a barren, sort of, tan feeling.”
“Take the food,” Ken replied.
“Oh, goodie!” Butterfield exclaimed and danced away with the container in her hands. “I would kiss you, but Janae would be too jealous, and we do not want that. We are on a mission.”
Janae shook her head, but recalled Butterfield’s weeping at the body of her Daddy, and empathized a bit. Constance’s image came to her mind, and sorrow washed over her emotions.
Time passed as Butterfield led them through passageways which were most often well-lit, but were cool in temperature, and often had a musty, unused smell to them. They saw no other people, but as they passed each pressure door, or bulkhead door, Butterfield did recalibrate the nine-section color control pads with her countermand device. Both Ken and Janae were mapping the route in their minds, and it was not hard or complicated.
“Now, up here, is the elevator—not the same elevator as before—but the one which will take us on the arced course to Hanger 5. May I open it?”
“Butterfield, if this is a trick…” Janae began but was interrupted.
“Yes, you will shoot me, or something else dreadfully bad will happen to me,” her voice hardened, “If you do that, I will not get my revenge on Diego, and the others who are responsible, so believe me, I will get you to Hanger 5. But when I do, you will let me go, right?”
“We will see,” Ken replied. “Getting to homebase with you was a disappointment, and I am not sure what we will find in Hanger 5.”
“I can honestly tell you, I do not know either. Last time I checked it, just before flying off in that shuttle, Hanger 5 was dormant and nearly void of energy. But, then, you know, I was unaware of everything I know now. A rampant AI’s behavior is hard to predict, especially one as advanced and superior as the Dome 17 models, right?”
“Just open the elevator,” Janae sighed out.
Just like the previous elevator, Butterfield’s countermand overrode the programming and they stepped inside. She pressed a button and the car slipped away. “Now, when we get there, I expect to be released, and not just instantly killed. Neither of you are crazed animal things, and I do have a day of reckoning to arrange for Diego.”
For a few moments, the three rode in silence. Each contemplating what was happening and where they were headed.
“This is Hanger 5’s level. We will be approaching from a tertiary door at the side of the hanger bay,” Butterfield stated, as the elevator doors opened. Just down the hallway was the bulkhead doors to a hanger bay. It looked somewhat different than Ken or Janae expected, as something shimmered and shone around the door. The rest of the corridor was empty, but Ken felt the whiskers on his face twitch and tingle a bit, which was strange. Janae’s blonde hair rose a slight bit as they stepped out of the elevator. The doors shut behind them, and Butterfield adjusted the blue hand-shaped touch control. Then they stepped along, carefully looking in all directions. Butterfield—oddly quiet now—was right behind Ken, while Janae followed, revenger at the ready.
“Go, open up the hanger bay, if this is the really the right place,” Janae instructed. “Use your special Trailblazer tech—countermand—and get us inside.”
Butterfield hesitated.
“What? You lead us all the way here, and now balk at the last doorway?” Janae pointed the revenger right at Butterfield, “I have watched you use that device, and I think I could figure it out pretty easily. Are you expendable to me now?”
Butterfield slumped her shoulders, and looked at the floor, “I suppose that is up to you. Are you a person, or a crazed animal thing? A Ken or a Jubal?”
“What?” Janae spat out the word. “I am not a Jubal!”
“Oh, maybe a Larson? Or a Riley?”
“Shut up! I can easily kill you where you stand.”
“Yes, I suppose it is for you to decide,” Butterfield never looked up. “I lived up to my part. I took you to that homebase, and then brought you safely here. If I am expendable, well, that is your decision, and Ken’s I suppose.”
“She did get us here,” Ken said softly. “Although, I am not sure why that door is shimmery, and there is an odd charge in the air here. Sort of a static-electric sensation.”
Janae kept aiming the revenger at Butterfield, “I have killed great bruins which threatened me, or threatened Ken. Why should you be any different?”
“Perhaps, I am not any different, but are you? Are you a bruin or a Constance?”
; “Do not say her name! Not from your mouth. No!” Janae trembled, and she stepped back. “Go over and open that door so we can get to the FTL scout.”
“I do not know if the countermand will work. I have never encountered a forcefield like this one. The readings show this area as barely energized—obviously not the case—and the surveillance system is getting bogus images on visuals. I barely got the elevator repurposed for the new code sequence. Is your AI doing all this too?” Butterfield asked.
“Or, are your people doing this?” Janae retorted. “Did you lead us on a merry-little trek until they were in place? Just go open that door!”
“I will try,” Butterfield replied. She set the food parcel down, and walked over to the shimmering door. She hesitantly placed the countermand device on the wall, right near the nine-section color control pad. A shimmery, glistening, twinkle surrounded the colors, and as she adjusted the countermand, the yellow light that emanated from the device merged with the other lights, and cast strange waves of sparkles all around.
“Access denied!” Kimberly’s voice boomed from somewhere around them. “This area is forbidden to all except Ken and Janae.”
“Kimberly!” Ken yelled out. “We are here!”
“This area is forbidden to all except Ken and Janae.”
“I can override, with just a bit more,” Butterfield said as she adjusted the countermand. “fine tuning…”
Kazeerzingg!
A spark of brilliance flashed from where Butterfield had been standing. She was knocked backward, and fell hard to the floor, the countermand still clutched in her hand.
“Butterfield!” Ken rushed over to her, and bent down next to her. He pulled her head into his lap. She was unconscious, but breathing, with some burns on her hand where it had been around the countermand device. The device itself was lying next to her, darkened, and not illuminated.
“Kimberly! It is us! We are here!” Janae screamed. “Let us in!”
“This area is forbidden to all except Ken and Janae.”
“Kimberly! This is Ken! I am here! Open this up, or I will cut through with a molecular saw.”
“That forcefield will ruin the molecular saw, before you get five centimeters into it,” Janae said, and with some foreboding, she recalled how she had previously interacted with some of the Trailblazer’s AIs and SBs. She had had better luck using a different approach than just with audio commands, so, she reluctantly tapped the implant which was behind her ear, “Kimberly? Can you hear me this way?”
“Janae?” a weak and trembly Kimberly responded. “I am very sick… sick… attempting self-diagnostics and repairs. What is your… your… location?”
“I am just outside Hanger 5, and we tried to get in.”
“Knock-knock? Who is there? Why, it… it… it… is Janae,” Kimberly responded. “I can perceive you now. Did you go down in the woods today to… grandfather’s clock… la… Polly wolly doodle all the day… time… Attempting to remain focused… focused… Oh, a grasshopper sitting on a… picnic with the teddy bears… NO! Janae, I have a defensive barrier set up to protect all your teleportation equipment and the FTL scout. Do not touch it… not touch it… I cannot perceive you… only where you are, beyond a limited range… I cannot perceive you beyond a limited distance away. I cannot open the door where you are. I was in a fit of… of rage or insanity, and… I made… the doors are no long accessible to me. I have been sending automacubes out along the hull to then reenter the Trailblazer… Is it possible for you to enter the hanger bay from space?”
“What? Space? We were just in space, in a shuttle. Just shut down this barrier and let us in,” Janae spoke loudly.
Butterfield stirred a bit, but just groaned, eyes closed. Ken realized what was happening and how Janae was using the implant to speak to Kimberly. He tapped his own implant and spoke, “Kimberly, I am here as well. Please let us in.”
“ONE AT A TIME!” Kimberly’s voice boomed in Ken’s ear via the implant. He reached up and tapped it off, stopping the excruciating noise in his head, and looked over at Janae.
“Kimberly, just lower the barrier and let us in, please,” Janae spoke carefully and gently. “Ken and I are both outside, and I have a plan for helping you to be repaired. Drop the forcefield and we will come in.”
“The two of you are here? Like the gingham dog and the calico cat. Side by side on the table sat… sat… it was… was half-past twelve, and what do you think? Nor one… nor the other, had slept a wink… a wink… a wink… NO! I am focusing. Janae, while I am still lucid… I secured the hanger bay and all the teleportation equipment. I deliberately prevented myself from having control of the defensive barrier. I know you and Ken can do this… just… just… just unsure how… Appeared to know as sure as fate, no matter left or right, there was going to be a terrible fight… NO! Focusing, repairing, preventing your equipment from being stolen by adversaries. Only access now to this hanger is from outside. Exterior Repair Station has beacon which will hone on your implant… your implant… allow you entry. That location will allow you entrance to this hanger bay, you alone. Anchor is required… Ken must… Ken must remain outside in hallway. Where he is now… now… now.”
“Huh?” Janae pondered what Kimberly was saying and replied, “I must use the shuttle to go to an exterior access point, and then enter the hanger bay? But Ken must stay here? Why?”
Kimberly’s voice became as strong as prior to the septic infection, “The only safe way. Sorry, but all has been conjectured, and this is the only course with a possible desirable outcome. All other conjectures result in death for both of you. I am sorry, but this is the only plan which I can conceive of as having any chance. But the risks are still there. Other entities are interfering, but I have conjectured this as the best of many poor options. I am lucid now, and fighting against being rampant. Trust me, please.”
Something in Kimberly’s words, attitude, and tone helped Janae decide. “So, Ken stays here, and I come to you in the shuttle. I can do that.”
“That is the only way… only way… only way… Janae, please hurry!” Kimberly responded. “I need Ken as an anchor here, for my mental stability, and you are the one to reach me. It must be you and not the other way… repair station keyed to your implant… your implant… no time to explain fully, why… why… Time is past, time is now, time will be again… Janae, then, from inside here, you can physically open the door for Ken to enter… to enter… must hurry, please.”
“Understood. Ken stays here, I come to you,” Janae responded.
“Janae, you are not going anywhere alone,” Ken stated firmly. While he had only heard Janae’s side of the conversation, he grasped what the plan was about. “No solo missions. I will go with you. Wherever you are going, we go together. I am in this with you.”
“Ken, Kimberly says she needs you to stay here, and I will go to the shuttle, and then fly to the hanger bay, well, a place near the hanger bay, and gain entry there.” Janae swallowed hard, and looked at Butterfield. “I cannot just murder her, I will not ask you to do it—that is not who you are Ken—but we cannot let her run loose. So, you stay here and guard her, as well as be what Kimberly calls ‘an anchor for her mind.’”
“Butterfield’s mind? I do not care about her. Janae, Kimberly is insane, rampant,” Ken pleaded. “Let me come with you, or just…” he looked at Butterfield. “You are right, I cannot just murder her, although it is tempting, and if it would save you… I could…” He shoved Butterfield with his foot.
Butterfield did not respond, except for a slight groaning. Ken briefly wished for the medical kit, but his overriding concern was for Janae. He hated the idea of being separated from her.
“Ken, no. Just keep her here. Shoot her in the leg or something, if you must, but neither one of us is a Jubal or a Larson. We will not be crazed animal things, no matter what is happening around us. We are still adventurers from Dome 17, and—even if everyone else is a scoundrel—we will be honorable!”
“Janae, you must take the fusion pack, and the best of our supplies.” He pulled off his backpack and sorted everything out. “The energy levels in my revenger should stay adequate, and I doubt I will need much of this stuff, just waiting here for you.” He insisted on giving her all but a few meager tools, and his own revenger. “Janae, you are truly beautiful,” Ken said with admiration.
“Thank you,” Janae replied, and she almost reached out to hug him, but did not. Instead, she picked up the supplies, gear, and headed off. Over her shoulder she called out, “Butterfield, if you are faking and can hear me, listen closely. If your code sequences do not work, I will reevaluate my ethics and morality.”
Butterfield did not respond, even though Ken prodded her again with his foot. He watched as Janae marched off on her mission. She went to the elevator, pressed her hand against the symbol, and got in. Ken’s stomach lurched with impending doom.
10
Solo Mission to Hanger 5
Janae retraced their route without difficulty. The first nine-section color control pad she came to responded perfectly to the code Butterfield had entered, and while Janae still had her revenger at the ready, there was no one waiting to bushwhack her when the door opened. She trotted along, recalling all that had been happening, and especially reliving the solo journey she had done in the Isle of Pines habitat. She tried hard not to remember the horrors of the solo missions done from Dome 17.
“Ken? I am about half of the way to the runabout,” Janae said as she tapped her comlink.
There was no response.
Janae tried again, and still there was no response. She then adjusted the comlink—remembering that Ken’s gear had been damaged previously—and then tried again.
Silence was all that she heard. Fear, anger, frustration, and doubt rushed through her, and she tapped on the implant.
Terror on the Trailblazer Page 23