A Mind Programmed

by Vox Day

  “Can't you reset the clock?”

  “During hypertransit? Yes, but it's quite a navigational feat. I can't say that we've ever had occasion to attempt it.”

  “Where we set the clock determines how far we go, that and the direction we're heading at the moment when we enter into hypertime,” Galton explained. “Right now the clock is set at a few minutes over fourteen hours. That time and our course will bring us into Zero Seven Zero Two.”

  “You're talking about a massive area,” York observed. “I mean, an entire subsector!”

  “Of course. We speak of it as if it were a flat plain, but it's not. Far from it. Actually one of the stars, designated Seventy Ophiuci, lies twenty thousand light-years beyond the point where we will emerge.”

  “Where will we emerge?” York asked. The navigator looked at the captain instead of answering.

  “Near a star called Gelhart,” Hull replied.

  “Any particular reason?”

  Hull nodded. “That's as close as we could identify Rigel's position at the time of the distress call. Fortunately Gelhart is fairly isolated as stars go. It also has six planets, of which at least two could serve for emergency landings.”

  “I can't imagine it being that easy,” York commented. “This puts the proverbial needle in the haystack to shame.”

  “Finding the cruiser? We'll find her. I'm not bothered much on that score,” said Hull. “Unless you're wrong and there was an accident that left no ship left to find.”

  He glanced at Borstad, the watch officer. “Now that we're safely in transit, I need to speak to Miss York in my cabin. Miss York, if you will follow me, please?”

  “Of course, Captain.”

  “Aye aye, sir,” replied Borstad as he saluted.

  When they reached his cabin and the door was safely closed, Hull was straight and to the point. “Just before we entered hypertransit, I received a reply to my query on your credentials. I am instructed to extend you every facility and all aid short of actually endangering Draco's safety.”

  “Admiral Borenhall?” York asked.

  “No.” A slightly baffled look came into Hull's eyes. “The High Admiral of the Galactic Seas. It seems Borenhall passed my query up the line.”

  “I can't say I'm surprised.”

  “I've also received a similar message from Director Karsh, your boss. However, it was in the form of a request.” He raised his eyes to hers, as if weighing her. “You understand the AID has no authority over active naval units.”

  “Of course not,” she agreed.

  “It appears both the admiral and Director Karsh see the situation your way, as an attempt to acquire the Shiva technology. Personally, I still have trouble accepting that,” Hull stated, “but I am ordered to act on the premise.”

  “Did either of them suggest who they believe to be at the bottom of it?” York asked.

  Hull nodded reluctantly. “House Dai Zhan, as you said. But that doesn't mean any of my own Dai Zhani crew members are disloyal,” he quickly added.

  “It is only a possibility, at this point,” York suggested tactfully. “Even so, we must take all necessary precautions.”

  “Why? What has what happened on Rigel to do with my ship?” Hull demanded. “I know these men. Some of them have served under me for years!”

  “Possibly everything.”

  “I don't follow you.”

  “Let's posit there are some Dai Zhani agents stranded in uninhabited space,” mused York. “Without a ship, how could they possibly return the technology except through the Draco?”

  “There is no way they're going to smuggle a sunbuster on board! I've been on a Shiva-class ship before. Those devices are huge!”

  “You've seen one?” she asked sharply.

  “Well, not the device itself, of course,” he blinked, taken aback by her sudden intensity. “But based on the size of the compartment, ten men couldn't carry it.”

  She leaned back in her chair and shook her head. “Of course they're not going to steal the device itself, Captain. Not if they don't have a second ship. And even if they did, the device's size would render its extrication difficult, if not improbable. No, my guess is that they've dismantled it, and copied off all of the necessary circuitries and programs.”

  Hull looked startled. “So, you think they might pass that information on through members of my crew?”

  “That, or taking over the Draco. Passing it on would be infinitely wiser. If I were in their shoes, I'd assume that any survivors would be held in protective custody indefinitely, perhaps even for life.”

  “That would require extraordinary dedication,” Hull objected.

  “No more than that required of you and your crew. You risk your skins every time you take to space in this metal can. Is the thought of sitting in a Directorate cell for a few decades actually any worse?”

  Hull eyed her steadily, then slumped back in his seat. “I have three or four Dai Zhani at most,” he said quietly, “none of them officers. Even if we grant they could be disloyal, how could such a small number take over a ship like this?”

  “That's precisely what I intend to find out, Captain.”

  “It's impossible, York.”

  “How many Dai Zhani would you say were aboard the Rigel, Captain? A dozen, twenty?”

  “Probably not that many,” Hull admitted.

  “Any officers?”

  “On a sun-busting cruiser? Never.”

  “And yet both the Admiralty and the Directorate believe it was hijacked,” York pointed out.

  “We don't know that, yet.”

  “You told me the High Admiral believes it.”

  “I'll have to act on the assumption,” Hull sighed heavily. “I hope, well, I don't know what I hope. I just wonder what things have come to when you find yourself hoping that the ship carrying five hundred men merely met with an serious accident.”

  She reached out and patted his hand sympathetically. “I don't question your loyalties, Captain. And it's to your credit that you find it difficult to believe evil of your fellow servicemen.”

  Hull didn't withdraw his hand, but his voice was full of reluctance. “You're right, Miss York. This is too important to take any chances or worry about hurting anyone's feelings. I'll give the order to have the Dai Zhani crew members watched carefully.”

  “I wouldn't do that,” York cut in quickly.

  “Why not? I thought that was what you wanted me to do!”

  “It would be better not to warn them of our suspicions prior to reaching the Rigel.”

  “The safety of my ship is my first consideration, Agent.”

  “Warn them and you'll make my job harder.” She shook her head. “We have to bait the trap. Scare them, and they'll be more careful. But they'll act. They have no choice. Keep in mind that the Rigel's sabotage might be difficult to prove, so we'll want to catch them in the act.”

  “When they're trying to relay the information?” Hull asked.

  “Ideally.”

  “I hope to God you know what you're doing, Miss York.”

  “This is what I do, Captain.”

  “Then I hope you're good at it.” Hull raised a finger. “But let's be clear on this. I don't want any actions being taken that I'm not aware of, York. This is my ship, and I expect to know what is going on at all times.”

  “Certainly.” York looked at him. “The doctor recognized that I'm with the Directorate. Have you given any thought to my cover story? It would be better if the Dai Zhani weren't wary of me.”

  “Benbow is a bit sharper than the average crewman. These things have a way of getting around.”

  “I know they do, but at least we can try to keep the knowledge within a restricted circle.”

  “We'll come up with something,” Hull replied briefly. He leaned back, deep in thought. “There is one more thing.”

  She waited.

  Hull continued slowly. “You told me you didn't think the cyborgs were involved.”

 
; “That was my initial conclusion, yes.”

  “The High Admiral said that an Integration agent is known to have made contact with House Dai Zhan.”

  “Did they now?” She narrowed her eyes, suspicious. “Did he happen to mention any names?”

  “Yes, as a matter of fact, he did. He was very specific. The agent was a woman named Myranda Flare.”

  “Flare,” York nodded slowly. “Yes, I suppose it would be.”

  “I take it that you know about this Flare?”

  “Quite a bit, actually. I spent a fair amount of time observing her when I was on Kurzweil.”

  “Why that particular woman?” Hull asked, curious.

  York smiled to herself. The captain didn't miss a bet. “Flare is special,” she answered. “She's a telepsych.”

  “A what?” Hull squinted. “Never heard of that.”

  “No reason you would have. It's a word we had to coin for the woman. Did the admiral happen to mention if it is believed Flare's appearance has any relation to the disappearance of the Rigel?” asked York, knowing full well he must, or else he would never have mentioned the woman to Hull.

  “He indicated as much,” Hull admitted.

  “But he didn't say how?”

  “No, just the warning.”

  “Well, Flare would certainly add a little excitement to the situation,” York commented cheerfully. “Just in case you felt there was insufficient drama.”

  “I could do with a lot less,” Hull said bitterly.

  “Did the admiral say where this contact was made?”

  “Valatesta. Subsector Zero Two Zero Two,” he replied with a puzzled expression on his face.

  “Valatesta?” York closed her eyes and pictured the map of the Kantillon sector. “That's almost in the opposite direction from Subsector Zero Seven Zero Two.”

  “That seems counterintuitive,” Hull said. “So, what makes her so special, this telepsych?”

  “She can transfer her mind into any mind, or sufficiently large storage device on the planet, provided she has a sufficiently fast and reliable connection to her target.”

  “Good Lord,” the captain said, amazed. “Any mind on the planet?”

  “Any mind to which she has digital access.” York nodded. “Of course, some minds are considerably more useful than others. She can't do much in a cripple or a dream junkie, for instance. Fortunately, she can't transfer minds between planets, let alone star systems. But she can reasonably jump anywhere on a planet, or to be more precise, anywhere within a planetary orbit if the necessary communications infrastructure is in place.”

  “That's incredible. You're sure of that?”

  “I've seen video of her doing it.”

  “Is it instantaneous?”

  “It's fast, but it's not instant. It's a matter of mathematics and the size of the human mind in data terms. It takes an amount of time to transfer 2.5 petabytes.”

  “So it doesn't take all that long.”

  “No, but keep in mind that it's not the sort of thing where anything less than a rock-solid connection will do. Lose even a packet or two and the results could be catastrophic.”

  Hull rubbed his chin as he attempted to get his head around what she'd told him. “She's extremely dangerous, then,” he finally ventured.

  “She is the most dangerous woman in the universe, Captain. She's far more dangerous than any soldier, and not just because of her unique ability. Due to her unique perspective on the relationship between mind and body, she has no more qualms about killing than you or I might have about deleting a file from a computer. As near as we can tell, life, even the soul, is nothing more than data to her. Something easily overwritten and readily replaced.”

  “You know quite a bit about her.”

  York nodded grimly. “We've had her under observation for a long time, Captain, once we heard about her abilities. We believe we have a pretty good handle on what she can and cannot do.”

  “She's not under observation now, I'm guessing.” Hull said shrewdly.

  She laughed. “It's very, very difficult to keep an eye on a woman who can switch bodies at will. It's mostly a matter of finding the poor, mindless bodies she leaves behind when she transfers. We can usually track where she's been, it's knowing where she is at the moment that is the challenge.”

  “She kills the bodies she possesses?” Hull shivered involuntarily. “That's creepy.”

  “It would be much kinder if she did.” York shook her head. “No, what's left behind is typically a drooling, mindless shell.”

  “She's a monster.”

  “You say monster. I suppose the cyborgs might argue she represents the next step in post-human evolution.” York shrugged. “I'm inclined to say you're right. As I said, she possesses nothing that ordinary homo sapiens sapiens would recognize as a conscience. She's been much discussed within the Directorate. My position is that it's a mistake to even try to understand her. I don't think she can even be reasonably considered sane by our standards.”

  “And now she may be involved in all this.”

  “It's hard to see how, given her location, but if she's been in contact with the Dai Zhani, then she's definitely on the board. Tracking her will be a priority. I can tell you one thing: if I weren't here, I'd be boarding a ship for Valatesta right now!”

  Hull smiled ruefully. It was an unexpectedly charming expression on the gruff, older man. “I can't believe I'm going to say this, Miss York, but I'm damned glad you're on board with us. I can't imagine trying to make head or tail of this if you weren't here to walk me through it.”

  She smiled back at him. “I'm damned glad to be here too, Captain Hull.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Luyang Heavy Industries conducted the second successful test of the new Long Range Anti-Ship Missile (codename Silkstar) it is developing for House Dai Zhan. The missile will be crucial in the Great House's efforts to defeat increased pirate activity in the Böhm-Bawerk sector.

  —“Twice is Nice for New Luyang Missile”, Jane's Spinward Sectors, 2844.062

  YORK WAS having coffee in the wardroom by herself when Lieutenant Tregaski entered, approaching her table directly. “Miss York, Captain Hull told me you should have a good look over the ship,” he boomed cordially. His beefy face was considerably friendlier than the last time she'd seen it. “I'll be your appointed guide today.”

  “How very thoughtful of the captain. Must we begin the tour immediately?”

  “There's no hurry,” Tregaski said. “Finish your coffee. On second thought, I'll have a cup with you, if you don't mind, miss.”

  “Please, sit down, lieutenant.”

  Two kiloseconds later, watching Tregaski walking down the corridor with the quick, easy stride of a man who had mastered the variable gravities of space, York chuckled to herself. Only four days ago Tregaski had been eager to throw her off the destroyer and shown himself perfectly willing to shoot her in the back. Now, he was her cheerful tour guide. Men, she thought to herself, were wonderfully uncomplicated creatures.

  Tregaski glanced back at her. “Ever been on a destroyer before, Miss?”

  York admitted she had not.

  “I'll fill you in,” he offered. “Draco is small for a warship, but she's got some punch. She's designated as Horizon-class, technically Horizon-GP, which stands for Galactic Patrol. You'll find a fair number of them in the spinward sectors. She's outfitted for extended patrol and peacekeeping, putting down minor planetary disturbances, civil wars that threaten to get out of hand, and situations like that.”

  “What sort of armaments does she have?”

  “She has four sets of tactical lasers, a single 150mm projectile cannon, two 64 cell Mk 17 suborbital launch systems, one 32 cell exorbital launcher, 96 RIM-72 suborbital devices, and 48 VTAC Infernity dual-use missiles. For the launch systems, she carries 384 atmospheric rockets and 128 deep space torpedoes.

  York pursed her lips. “I should think you could put down quite a planetary disturbance.”
>
  “And her primary launch is armed with a pair of 18mm mini-cannons in the nose as well as a belly laser.” Tregaski grinned proudly. “She can't nova a sun or anything, and she doesn't have the armor or the guns for fleet actions, but she can hold her own.”

  “What is a suborbital device?”

  “It's Navy speak for a cobalt bomb.” He went on describing Draco in detail. Its hull contained three decks and an underdeck, the first of which largely was taken up by the officers' quarters, wardroom and galley. The bridge lay forward, slightly elevated above the same level, and was flanked by two weapons compartments. Other weapons rooms were aft. The second deck, which he explained was very crowded, contained the crew quarters, the mess hall, the chief galley, the laundry and medical quarters, in addition to small-arms depots and crew storage facilities. The third deck roughly was divided between operational compartments and storage holds, while the underdeck contained the ammunition stores, engines, emergency pods, and planetary landers.

  Although Tregaski spoke in an casual manner, York could hear the pride with which he described the ship, its officers and crew. Plainly he believed there was but one real fighting ship in the Ascendancy Navy and ATSV Draco was it.

  “And the crew complement?”

  “Twenty-eight officers and 246 enlisted. You're the only passenger, Miss.”

  “So many? I suppose I only see a small section of the crew on the officer's deck. How would you say the men regard the captain?”

  “Captain Hull is the best skipper I've ever served under. There's not a man aboard who wouldn't give his life for the captain,” Tregaski proclaimed defiantly. “He should be an admiral, but he'll never get the chance.”

  York caught the slight bitterness in his voice. “Where are you from, Lieutenant?”

  “Pola, third of the sun Fomalhaut. I'm a spinworlder, like the captain.”

  “And that is a problem?”

  “It's more of a handicap,” Tregaski said, with a shrug of resignation. “We have to work harder for promotion, we spend more years between grades. As for assignments, we're usually stuck out on the rim, well away from the core on planets like Xigaze. Commanding a destroyer is as high as the skipper can go. They don't make admirals from the outworlds.”