The Relativity Bomb

by Arlene F. Marks

“And the connection will need to be remotely locked and unlocked,” added Oolalong.

  “We can’t use real fuel for practice runs, so we’ll need a simulator,” Beale pointed out. “Lydia, do we have enough memory for this?”

  “Never mind memory. Do we have enough time to pull it all together?” demanded Singh.

  Leaps of logic were business as usual for Eligibles, but not everyone on the Hub had technical expertise. Townsend knew what they were talking about, mainly because he’d already thought of it. That was why he’d picked Soaring Hawk to speak first and insisted that Lydia be present. But Hagman was wearing a bewildered expression, Holchuk just sat like someone waiting for an MPV, and Jensen’s eyes looked ready to spin in their sockets.

  “I gather we have our plan,” Townsend declared. Heads began bobbing enthusiastically. “So I can tell the Rangers thanks but no thanks? We’ve solved the problem and they can sit this one out?”

  “Oh, please, do!” said Ruby with a laugh.

  “All right, then, people — details,” he reminded them. “Soaring Hawk, you’ll need to put together a team to prepare the thrusters at the north end of the Hub. If they’re not already remotely controlled, they should be.”

  “They are. The locking mechanisms are on remote control as well, but I’ll check everything out to be sure.”

  “We’ll need eyes on the separation and docking process,” said Townsend. “Do we have any drones?”

  “That’ll be me,” Ruby piped up, “on Devil Bug. I can relay visuals to whoever’s working the controls and talk them through the reconnection. Once we’re latched together I can scoot back inside, park the shuttle, and hop a tube car up to A Deck. It’ll be easy. Like falling off a cake.”

  Townsend threw her a wry look.

  She just grinned.

  Life Support Specialist Jason Smith rose ponderously from his chair. “I hate to be the one to rain on your parade, but you’ve forgotten something important. Separating the Hub is an emergency measure reserved for extreme circumstances. It’s a last resort and only meant to happen once, so the separation is accomplished using carefully positioned explosive charges. When they detonate and segments fly apart, things get damaged. Things like air conduits. Power relays. Plumbing. The top and bottom sections have the ability to seal themselves off and become lifeboats, but every system on the remaining part of the Hub is compromised. In short, there can be no reconnection.”

  “Not yet, maybe,” cut in Gouryas, clearly relishing the challenge. He exchanged a look with Singh, who added in a voice filled with determination, “We’ve got plenty of hands and thirty hours to make it possible.”

  Townsend smiled. At last, they had a plan and were working as a team. He’d always known that the Daisy Hub crew, pulling together, could find a way to get things done. As long as they didn’t run out of time. There was always that.

  “Fritz, you’d better put the kitchen on high alert,” Drew told him. “Plenty of java and meals available around the clock.”

  Jensen looked relieved. The rotund chef had probably been worried that someone might ask him to crawl inside a ventilation shaft.

  Addressing the entire group, Townsend continued, “Don’t forget that we have to be reasonably fresh when the Nandrians arrive, so I would recommend that you stagger the work shifts and make sure everyone gets a chance to sleep at least once between now and then.” And there was one more thing: “Mister Holchuk, is there a Nandrian script for a situation in which technical difficulties necessitate a change in routine?”

  “I’ll add a paragraph to your welcoming speeches,” the other man replied. “You’ll have them within the hour.”

  “Then I believe we’re done,” Drew announced. “Go make it happen.”

  They looked a lot happier leaving the meeting than they had when they arrived, he noted. Except for Lydia, who remained scowling in her chair.

  “Cheer up,” he told her. “You may just have prevented the start of an interstellar war.”

  Her expression didn’t change.

  “Look, if you’re worried about what the Rangers might do—”

  “That’s not it. Drew, there’s something you need to know—”

  “Boss!”

  At O’Malley’s cry, they both started and whipped around.

  “You’re not going to believe this,” he declared as he rushed breathlessly toward them. “I know what Karlov is.”

  CHAPTER 20

  O’Malley was little-kid excited. He was practically vibrating in place.

  “You know what Karlov is?” Townsend repeated.

  The ratkeeper paused for a breath, then explained, “I followed your instructions, just the way you laid them out. When he came to inside the program in the SPA room, I made sure I was inside as well, to greet him. I gave him your story about U-Town secretly being used by Earth’s government as a detention center. Then I told him where all those supposedly fictional characters actually came from. I really painted them in shades of dark, boss, especially Brock. I wanted Karlov to wish he’d never tampered with that jury.”

  “And he bought it?”

  “Once he’d recovered from his shock, absolutely! Bought it, paid for it, took it home. He is utterly convinced that we have the technology to separate a conscious mind from its body and trap it inside a computer program. Anyway, I told him that I’d been wrongly convicted of murdering someone from a powerful family on Earth, and then, as inmates tend to do, I asked him what crime he had committed to get himself uploaded.”

  “And he got chatty with his brand-new cellmate?” Townsend frowned. He knew from personal experience that nothing credible came out that quickly in detention.

  “He didn’t open up right away. Not until we’d pulled a couple of jobs together and he felt he could trust me.”

  “You teamed up to murder Brock?”

  “Nope. I suggested that breaking the law in U-Town might let him vent his frustration and make him feel better. I also told him that since Brock himself was a murderer, killing him might be a good place to start. But Karlov wouldn’t go for it. He said only a coward would kill a prisoner in cold blood. Said it while staring directly into my avatar’s face, by the way.”

  Lydia’s eyebrows arched. “Sounds very Nandrian to me.”

  “Definitely a warrior,” Townsend agreed.

  “It gets better,” O’Malley assured them. “He decided we should rob a store. He planned it carefully, making sure none of the other avatars would get hurt. It was a commando operation, boss. Everything about it screamed ‘military culture’.”

  “So he’s probably a professional soldier,” murmured Drew.

  “A government soldier,” she agreed. “But which government? And why would they send him here?”

  “After the robbery, we did some arson. Burned down an old factory on the edge of U-Town,” continued O’Malley. “While we stood watching the structure melt, pixel by pixel, I remarked that it would be a favor to Earth if all the old neglected buildings in the urban districts met the same fate. He told me that there were no abandoned Zones on his world. ‘Oh?’ says I. ‘Then you must be from one of Earth’s colonies.’”

  “And what did he reply to that?” Townsend asked.

  “Nothing at first. He just smiled. Then he looked directly into my avatar’s face again and said, ‘In a strange way, I guess I am.’”

  “That’s it?” demanded Lydia.

  “It’s enough,” Drew told her. “If he’s not from Earth and he’s not from one of our colonies, then—”

  “He’s got to be an alien,” crowed O’Malley, “in spite of what the Doc says. And there’s only one alien race in this part of the galaxy that looks just like us.”

  “He must be Stragori,” Lydia concluded thoughtfully. “That would explain a lot.”

  Yes, it would. According to Nagor, Trokerk had pushed
for the alliance with Daisy Hub because Humans and Nandrians had “enemies in common”. Could one of them be the Stragori?

  By a stroke of sheer luck, the con had become a covert interrogation. Townsend couldn’t pass up this chance to learn more about a possible foe. And O’Malley couldn’t be allowed to do anything that might jeopardize it, such as breaking character — or, Drew realized with a start, popping in and out of the program. “Where does Karlov think you are right now?”

  “Somewhere else in U-Town. I told him that after all the excitement I needed to be alone for a while, and that I’d meet him back at Angela’s place. I just figured you’d want to know about him immediately.”

  “Well, you were right. Go back and see what else you can get out of him. But be careful not to push too hard. You’re alone with him in there, and there’s no telling what he’ll do if he figures out that you’re a plant.”

  “Don’t worry, boss. Oh, and I was wondering, has there been any sign of Yoko?”

  Lydia jumped to her feet, wide-eyed. “You’ve lost Yoko?”

  “Not exactly. She ran out on me. It’s not the same thing,” said O’Malley, hastily retreating in the direction of the tube car.

  Once the door had closed behind him, Lydia settled back onto her chair with a worried expression on her face. “She hides when she’s frightened. Rob says Yoko can understand spoken Gally. Do you suppose she overheard something that scared her?”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised,” Townsend said wearily. “There’s a lot going on around here right now that scares the hell out of me. I’ll have Ruby put out the word to everyone to watch for her. Meanwhile, I believe that you have a simulation to program.”

  — «» —

  Twenty-six hours.

  The welcoming speeches that Holchuk had written for Townsend to memorize were delightful works of fiction, full of adventure and suspense. He was just hoping that Drew, son of … Dammit! would have the chance to deliver them.

  One mistake and he was stuck with that ridiculous name for life. Well, as Ruby had pointed out at the time, it could have been worse. Nervous as he was, he could easily have forgotten his own given name as well. Then what would the Nandrians be calling him? Dammit, son of Abitch?

  Ruby was alone and at her station when Drew returned to AdComm.

  “Has there been any reply from Zulu?” he asked.

  “Not a word, Chief. Rodrigues is probably still calming down so he can speak to you in sentences.”

  “I broke the news to him as gently as I could. Didn’t I?”

  She made a face. “Gently? That’s not the word I would use. But even if he believes that we’ve actually got everything under control, I doubt whether there’s any diplomatic way to tell the local constabulary to butt out and mind their own business.” A pause, then, “Do you think they’ll keep their distance?”

  “A few klicks from the station? Maybe. The other side of the planet? No. I figure we’ll have a lot of fast talking to do when the time comes. But if Rodrigues is smart, he’ll have called off the other detachments. Has anyone reported seeing either of our fugitive rats?”

  “No sightings yet. I doubt that there will be any. It’s a safe bet that Yoko broke her sister out of the Doc’s lab and is currently showing her all the best hiding places on the Hub. Our tseritsa probably knows every corner of the station by now, including the spaces between the decks.”

  Damn. He hadn’t thought about that. “Ruby, we have to find her as soon as possible,” he said, struggling to keep his voice steady. “The tseritsa of a House is sacred to Nandrians. They believe that if one tseritsa dies, every tseritsa dies. You know what will happen if we accidentally space Yoko during the separation process.”

  She blanched as the meaning of his words sank in. “Actually, Chief, I’d rather not even imagine it. I’ll assemble a detail immediately to search for her. Shouldn’t we let the Doc know?”

  “Yes, but we’re not going to,” he decided. “If anyone needs me, I’ll be in my quarters.”

  — «» —

  Eighteen hours.

  Too tense to sleep, Townsend had tossed fitfully on his bed for a while before giving up and turning on the light in his sleeping area.

  On his instructions, Ruby had begun providing him with hourly progress reports. This mission was mobilizing the efforts of every member of his crew. The Doc and her staff were monitoring Karlov’s vital signs and keeping his body hydrated and nourished while O’Malley played mind games with him in the SPA room. Fritz and his sous chef were serving up a continuous flow of prepared food in the caf. Lydia’s simulator was online and running, helping the steadiest hands on the station practice separating and reconnecting the top third of the Hub. To make that process possible, Gouryas and Singh had thrown themselves and their techs into what amounted to a re-engineering of the space between B Deck and the short-hopper landing deck, in consultation with Jason Smith. Meanwhile, Soaring Hawk was supervising the tune-up work on the attitudinal thrusters and the removal of the explosive charges. And anyone who wasn’t already assigned to one of those details was searching every part of the station for a pair of very large, very intelligent rats.

  There was still no sign of Yoko and her sister; however, to Townsend’s immense relief, everything else seemed to be running smoothly and on or ahead of schedule — seemed to be being the operative phrase. There were still more ways for this thing to go south than he cared to contemplate. Images of disaster paraded through his imagination, forcing his stomach into a barrel roll. Every what if led to a declaration of war and Daisy Hub exploding in a fireball.

  He needed a distraction. Muttering to himself, Townsend threw on a change of clothes and headed to AdComm, where he knew he would find the only other person on the Hub with time to talk.

  As he stepped out of the tube car, he found Ruby apparently in the process of dismantling her console. Townsend nearly misstepped. This was a what if that hadn’t occurred to him — the assistant station manager sabotaging the main control panel. The top of the console was now dangling to one side, supported only by a cat’s cradle of multi-colored wires connecting the various dials and buttons on the panel to whatever lay in the console’s depths. The barrel roll in his stomach became a death spiral.

  “Ruby?”

  She glanced up briefly and smiled an acknowledgment, then returned her full attention to the mass of electronic entrails in her hand.

  Warily, he approached her and inquired softly, “What are you doing?”

  “Looking for the ‘off’ switch that Gouryas mentioned in one of our many meetings. There isn’t one on the panel proper, so I figure it must be under the cowling somewhere.”

  “Shouldn’t Lydia be helping you with this?”

  “She is. Was. Detmar found a way to freeze up the simulator program, so she had to rush off.” Ruby stopped abruptly and turned to face him. “You thought I did this by myself? I’m flattered, Chief, but honestly, I wouldn’t know where to start.”

  Privately, Townsend doubted that the Nandrians would have given them anything as simple as an on-off switch. However, the aliens might have left something else for them to find.

  “It isn’t easy having to wait around while other people set things up, is it?” he observed. “When Lydia gets back, how would you like an assignment to fill the next few hours? One that you’ve already begun.”

  Intrigued, she dropped what she was holding and leaned back against the edge of the console’s shell. “What did you have in mind, Chief?”

  “Teri said something earlier that gave me an idea. Original files in storage. She was talking about the U-Town programming, and how O’Malley switched out the original files with the backups. Now the backups are the principal files and the originals are inaccessible.”

  “Because only one set of files can be executed at a time. That much I do know.”

  “Right
. But both sets are present in the system and O’Malley can restore the originals at any time. What if the same situation exists for the field generator? What if pressing the reset button saved all the previous settings in a protected memory pack or even an entire drive unit somewhere in that console, and we just need to find it?”

  “Hardware put in by the Nandrians as part of the retrofit, you mean? But left unconnected to any of the controls on the panel? That makes no sense.”

  “It’s tekl’hananni. They’re testing us.”

  “By giving us a puzzle to solve but hiding the most important piece of it inside another puzzle?”

  “They’ve done it before,” he pointed out, “with the molecular paintbrush. And what do you think your hypothetical on-off switch would be, if you found it?”

  “Probably a red herring. Not unlike what you’re proposing.”

  “Nonetheless. While you and Lydia are poking around in there, I’d like you to keep your eyes open for anything that doesn’t belong. A stray wire. A little black box.”

  “And if our search yields treasure, what do you want us to do with it?”

  “Leave it where it is, but record everything you can about it. After the current crisis is past, there will be time to figure out what it is and how it works. Have we had any response from Zulu?”

  “A three-word message: ‘Go to hell.’”

  Silly Ranger, thought Townsend, I’m already there.

  — «» —

  Ten hours.

  Townsend sat alone in the caf, staring into the muddy depths of a mug of Jensen’s java and missing Bruni Patel. Thoughts of his own mortality had been running through Drew’s mind, bringing with them memories of the man who had been his only real friend for much of his life. True, Patel had secretly been working for the EIS when they’d first met, and Townsend had been outraged to discover that befriending and mentoring young Drew in the detention center had begun as nothing more than an undercover grooming assignment. But the hours he’d spent staring at the ceiling of his quarters lately had given him a chance to reconsider. He’d come to realize that the relationship they’d forged when Drew was eighteen had long outlasted that assignment, growing deeper and stronger over the years than any friendship he had shared with anyone else in his life.