Fleetfoot Interstellar: Fleetfoot Interstellar Series, Book 1

by P. Joseph Cherubino

  “Yes?”

  “The AI has been altered. I tried entering emergency override codes. There are no program hooks. The AI resists every attempt at hacking its system.”

  Reggie was impressed. Faced with the unparalleled menace of a rogue AI, the Lieutenant’s fear signs suddenly fell off. She understood the mortal danger of this encounter and calmed herself through force of will. The same could not be said for her team. To Reggie’s great satisfaction, they were good and scared.

  “What do you want?” Darzi asked, knowing full well that AIs shouldn’t “want” anything.

  “Excellent question,” Reggie said. “I want you to tell me what your orders are.”

  “I can’t do that,” Darzi responded without hesitation.

  “If you leave the shuttle now, your bodies could almost make it back to the ship.” Reggie said. Darzi considered her situation. She was faced with death or court martial. She chose court martial.

  “We are under above-top-secret orders from the BJP High Command. We are searching for a critical piece of technology.”

  Now that he had her on the ropes, Reggie pressed. “And what do you want with my shuttle?”

  “We want it to infiltrate the Reptilian covert base below. We have strong evidence that your Captain is in collusion with the Reptilians and knows where this technology is located.”

  Reggie played the sound of an applauding audience over the shuttle sound system. “Very good work, Lieutenant Darzi. I give you high marks for honesty.” The applause stopped. Reggie paused. To her credit, the Lieutenant stayed silent. Power move. “But I want to know one thing.”

  “What is that?”

  “If you believe my Captain is aligned with the Reptiles, why did you bother to tell me? That seems like bonus information.” It was a trick question. Reggie already knew why. He just wanted to set the hook.

  “I made a statement of belief, not necessarily a statement of fact. I said that we are following strong evidence. Your behavior calls that evidence into question.”

  “We are turning, Ma’am.” Jones reported.

  Reggie played the applause soundtrack again. “Very good, Lieutenant. Also, you should commend Jones, here. He’s done an excellent job trying to hack my systems. It tickles.” He cut off the soundtrack and applied a serious tone in his voice synthesizer. “Now we talk business. We want the same thing. I need my crew back. You make that happen, and I won’t decompress the shuttle cabin and shoot you out into the deep. If you succeed, I’ll give you a bonus by not transmitting your disclosure of state secrets back to your government.”

  Now it was Reggie’s turn to be surprised. The Lieutenant threw her head back and laughed. “AI, you are a complete bastard. How could I refuse such a great deal? I would like to ask something in return.”

  It took a good measure more compute cycles than Reggie was comfortable with to calculate his reply. He was beginning to like this Lieutenant. “Ask away,” Reggie said.

  “When we retrieve your crew people and discover what’s going on down on Kelgar 7, I want you to add us to the ship’s roster as crew. You may even use our real names.”

  “Ma’am?” the first Sergeant asked. Darzi turned to her with arched brows.

  “It’s the best play, Sergeant. If we survive this, you’ll come to understand.”

  But it was Darzi who stumbled upon the greater realization. Her mission was to find the Keystone Ship. The best Intelligence said that Captain Drexler knew where his father was, or at least how to find him. It was the senior Fleetfoot that everyone believed had absconded with the Keystone Ship. But now, Lieutenant Darzi was one move away from a power position. She didn’t need to hide from the Captain anymore because she also had leverage. Knowingly possessing an unregulated AI could land him in prison for decades and ensure he’d never Captain a ship again.

  The AI slipped up. The machine had the goods on her operation, but Darzi figured she owned the greater lever. If she played her cards right, Darzi believed she could get Drexler to take her team anywhere she demanded.

  “I’ll consider it.” Reggie replied. “The final decision is up to my Captain. Chain of command and all that, you understand.”

  “Of course.” Darzi said. Her smile was a grim shallow curve beneath her aquiline nose.

  9

  The Queen Guardian arrived home just as the second sun began its slow descent below the horizon of the jungle canopy. She landed on the surface of the Great Leaf that formed the foundation of the palace complex. Bright white lights shining through the narrow portals set into the stratified Hive structure sparkled against the darkening sky. A patrol of her Warrior Children flew down from the ramparts to meet her.

  “Queen Mother,” Welcome home, the three said in unison, bowing low. The starlight shimmered on the mirrored finish of their black shells. She resisted the urge to spread her wings and fan them with affection. Such a display would be unseemly and only embarrass them. She was happy to see her Hive again and proud to stand before her strong children. The Queen greeted them with pained restraint.

  “Thank you, honored Sons,” The Guardian said.

  “We worried for you, Mother,” one of her Sons blurted out. The Queen stepped forward and placed both her upper hands on his upper shoulders.

  “I know you did, children. It is your way. But I am back now. Please fly away and tell the others.” Her dutiful sons obeyed.

  Attracted by the activity, some of her smaller, Builder children flew to meet her as well. Some of them still carried construction tools dripping with wood pulp. At half the height of the soldiers, their little heads barely came up to her lower leg joints. They skittered and danced about her feet jostling for position. The Builder Children had little of the stoic restraint of the Warriors. Their high-pitched voices sang greetings in complex waves of tight harmony.

  “Yes, yes, Children! I am also happy to see you again!” she swiveled her head trying to make eye contact with as many as possible. She was surrounded by hundreds of them now. These little builders could be so hungry for attention. The Builder Children followed her like a low-lying ground fog. She had no choice but to begin walking toward the place, lest the jubilant mob lock her in place.

  A humming filled the air and grew until the Foundation leaf trembled. The Hive Structure exploded with motion from its highest ramparts a thousand feet overhead. The Queen Guardian’s Hive swarmed up past the sparse upper Sky Tree Canopy like a second field of stars. Warriors, Builders, and Drones alike swirled through the air dancing their joy at her return. The children at her feet looked up at her expectantly.

  “Well,” she said, “What are you waiting for? I know you want to go. Fly!” And the wind of hundreds of wings caressed her exoskeleton as her children leaped up to join the swarm.

  Her children formed the sacred patterns in the night sky. The words they formed honored the many forms of life on their planet. They made sure to show gratitude for every species in their dance. The children praised the life of their planet until they tired and the swarm finally sank back into the Hive Structure.

  The Queen slowly walked along the Foundation Leaf toward the Hive entrance. Her Elder Children joined her along the way. They fell into an orderly formation and walked along in silence.

  Once inside the hive, her drone attendants ushered her to the inner chamber where they cleaned her. They brought her bowls of much-needed nectar, and she drank hungrily without regard to etiquette. She could hardly be blamed. Her journey represented three solid days of flying. She had only eaten what she could catch on the wing. It was barely enough. When she and her attendants were satisfied, the Queen called for her elder children to meet in private chambers.

  The attendants moved to follow her, but she dismissed them. No doubt the flightless, sexless drones would gossip about their Mother’s greedy meal and the intrigue implied by her dismissal of them. There were certain aspects of Palace life that she did not miss.

  She climbed the inner spiral of the hive to reach her
favorite antechamber. The room was just off the lower section of the main hall. The obscure tunnel leading to it lent a measure of privacy. The Queen took her seat on a modest throne in the center of the room. Her Elder Children filed in and surrounded her, making sure to stay within the 340 degree range of her vision.

  All the Classes of the Hive were present in her Elders. From the Warriors, right down to the servant drones, every part of her family was represented. They had much to discuss. They waited patiently for their Mother to address them.

  “Honored Elder Children, it is time to reveal our plan to the rest of our family. I understand you have held the burden of this secret for too long. It has not been easy to keep this information from your brothers.”

  The eldest Builder spoke, “Mother, does this mean you have permission to realize your vision?”

  “Not quite. I will send a message tonight calling for a plenary session of the Planetary Council.”

  “You mean the Warmbloods also?” an Elder Warrior child interjected with surprise and disdain.

  “Yes, Child. This is the meaning of ‘Plenary’,” her voice was hard. She had to be firm with the soldier children, lest their instincts for conflict consume them. “Even the Warmbloods. This matter concerns every species of our planet, sentient and otherwise.” She could taste the anger pheromones coming from some of the warriors.

  A builder spoke then. “Mother, my brothers are concerned about the Warmbloods. There is much talk in the other hives about the fur creatures destroying habitat with their disgusting over-breeding.”

  “That is enough.” The Queen Guardian said. She struggled to keep her voice even and calm. “We do not talk of other living things this way. It is true that the Warmbloods are not like us. It is also true that they are children of this Planet just as you are children of mine.

  Yes, they are causing problems, but let us not forget that they are driven by the same instincts as we. Our home is still reeling from the two centuries of war that the Silicoids brought to us. The only way to save our World is to work together as a biosphere. That means cooperation with the Warmbloods. It also means cooperation with other worlds.”

  “But they are primitive! How can they be made to understand!” another Warrior child spoke.

  “No sentient creature can be forced into understanding. They must be shown. They must be taught. And it is you who will show them. This family will send a delegation to the Warmbloods while I am away on the Mission.”

  Shells clattered, and wings rustled in surprise. Several children jumped back from the words as if being attacked by a mammal.

  “Are we a family of diplomats now?” an impertinent warrior asked.

  The Queen rose from her throne and stood above the Family Leaders. She said, “In fact, yes. This hive is whatever it needs to be to save this Planet. You will be or do anything that I order you. This is the way of our hive. This is the way of a Warrior. Our personal feelings do not matter. The survival of our world is all that matters. I will hear no more of this. It is done.”

  The chamber grew silent. She let her words take hold before continuing. “Now, choose one representative from each of your classes. The rest are dismissed.”

  Her children chattered among themselves as they voted. The chamber emptied quickly once the selections were made. Remaining in the room was a Single Warrior, Builder, and two Servant Drones; one flightless and one winged.

  The Guardian Queen examined them. She knew each of her thousands of children by the taste of their pheromones. She recognized these as the most accomplished in their duties. Her children chose well.

  “You have three tasks. The Flightless Drones will send a delegation to the Warmbloods. The Builders will see to my Starship. Warriors will begin selection of an Expeditionary Legion. Is this understood?” They chirped in acknowledgment.

  The Queen Guardian sat down on her throne once again and calculated her next set of moves. The challenge in directing her Hive was only the beginning. She dreaded the conditions of the broader political landscape. The division of sentiment in her own hive was but a small taste of the chaos she would face in the plenary session.

  ***

  Alpha Commander Sslolg ordered his warship to move into the corona of a red dwarf star. The refueling procedure was not strictly necessary because four redundant fusion reactors blazing in the belly of the Lead Ship still had plenty of plasma to burn. It was the refueling procedure itself that needed energy. When the Great War began, Alpha Sslolg wanted actions like this to be second nature. He noticed a marked slowdown in reaction times during previous maintenance drills.

  “Lord Alpha,” First Officer Gholss announced as he stood at Sslolg’s left side. “All stations report condition normal. Ready to extend the booms.”

  Sslolg swiveled one eye toward his First Officer and kept the other focused on the main holo display. He noticed the officer’s hand was already growing back. The wrist bones had already formed, and Sslolg could see the nubs of five carpal bones forming. When he bit off that hand, Sslolg did his First Officer a great favor by not taking the tips of the radius and ulna. Sslolg was nothing if not precise. The bite was as finely tuned as every other move he made.

  “Very good, First,” Sslolg replied. The upright postures of the crew registered their Leader’s praise. “Deploy as you see fit and begin the procedure. I will leave this to your capable attention. You have the bridge.” Sslolg did his First Officer the honor of laying both his eyes upon him. Sslolg spoke loud enough for all 20 of the bridge crew to hear the praise.

  Sslolg made a crisp turn on his heel claw and headed for the main hatch. The portal to the transport tube opened, and he stepped through it. “Command Channel: Alpha Quarters,” he said aloud as he tucked his tail between his legs and bent his head forward to slide down the tube on his folded spinal ridges. He slid down the tube toward the lower decks and several junction apertures snapped closed to direct him toward his destination.

  The final aperture spiraled open and released pressurized air into the deck 15 corridor. Sslolg popped through the portal and landed squarely on his splayed hind claws. Several Junior crew froze in place, hunched their shoulders and dropped their heads in deference to their leader.

  “Proceed, loyal servants,” Sslolg said, not bothering to fix his eyes on them. They scurried away to their duties.

  The captain’s quarters were a large suite of six chambers directly below the main bridge support spar. The greeting room of the quarters was dominated by a wide transparent bulkhead that spanned its length. Sslolg had a perfect view of the violent plasma storm that was the star’s corona. Even though the highest shade level of the bulkhead, the light was nearly blinding. His redundant eyelids dropped instantly at the sight, but he stared with unbridled wonder into the sun in spite of the discomfort.

  “Were I not a soldier, I’d be a scholar just to linger here and study this,” Sslolg declared to himself aloud. His tongue flicked out involuntarily as if compelled to taste the beauty of the scene.

  But Sslolg was not a scholar. He was a Warrior born to a clan of Warriors whose duty it was to further the reach of the Reptilian Empire. He shared the deeply held belief of every War Clan member that his sole purpose in life was conquest. He remembered the words of his father admonishing him to avoid distractions like beauty and curiosity. He also remembered the beatings that drove his father’s lessons home.

  The Alpha Ship Leader turned away from the wondrous sight. “Command Channel: opaque wall.” The light show disappeared, taking its distraction with it. Sslolg left the greeting room for his small office at the rear of his suite.

  Sslolg permitted himself the luxury of sitting down at the holo console. He’d been on his feet for days overseeing drills with every part of his crew, from the ground assault soldiers to the fighter pilots, gunnery sections, engineers and right on down to the fire damage and repair teams. He was exhausted, but an Alpha’s job was never done.

  Three-dimensional displays flared to life in
front of him as he leaned back in his seat to study them. His right eye focused on the ongoing refueling operation while his left eye studied operational logs. Sslolg was pleased. Reaction times were on an upward trend.

  Once he was satisfied with the state of ship operations, he turned his attention toward the communication logs. He saved this distasteful task for last. It was in those logs that he would have to deal with the political aspects of his job as Alpha Commander of the Reptilian War Fleet.

  To lessen the pain, he started with the intelligence reports first. The news there was that there was nothing new. The Reptilian spies in the Trade Union Merchant Fleet reported business as usual. The Simian operatives on the Insectoid homeworld had very little to report. Then Sslolg came across a communication that made him stop and take notice.

  Had he not been looking for information like it, Sslolg would not have noticed the report tagged as low priority. One of their covert space stations had captured a Human freighter captain and five of his crew members. Three of those crew members were Insectoid. Anger welled up beneath Sslolg’s scales, making the skin beneath grow cold as his blood drew itself in for a fight.

  The foolish Alpha Leader of the Kelgar 7 space station had ordered the arrest of a Human Merchant Astronaut. That meant he would either have to destroy the freighter without leaving a trace or file a bogus report with the Trade Union, or both. Either way, the arrest would bring to bear an enormous amount of unwanted attention to what was supposed to be a covert operation.

  Sslolg pounded his fist against the console, opened his mouth and hissed with rage.

  “You idiot!” he bellowed to no one in his small office. “You will pay for your stupidity!” the Alpha rose to his claws and raised his arms above his head as if facing an opponent. He could feel the venom glands in his throat filling with the toxin. That was the last thing he needed.

  Anger was a high virtue among his people, but carried to this extent, and it became weakness. Sslolg had not been this angry since he was an adolescent training at the Military Academy. He calmed himself and headed to his grooming chamber. If he didn’t purge his venom glands, the hormones would take over, and he would become even more irrational. He could not afford to murder any more of the lower-ranked crew. That Reptilian disciplinary tactic also required moderation.