POD (The Pattern Universe)

by Roote, Tobias

  “Delete it, Frank,” Osbourne told him.

  “What? why? I need this to...” he muttered confused at the request.

  “My message informed me that our spaceship plans are in the hands of the Fortress. It also said my equations were fine. I’m assuming it means I have someone sabotaging the nanite trials.”

  “Crap! We don’t need this right now, we have so much going on in the council; I’m thinking of getting your lot to forget designing spaceships and start cloning. Just give me a sec to think about this,” he said.

  Frank leaned back, his elbows on the arms of his chair, his hands together with fingers steepled, and swung around to gaze out the window. The complex he had striven to build around him and the Space Council was taking shape and close to achieving its aim, to place Earth in a position to enter Space in a committed way. Frank knew that trouble was coming, and the last thing they needed right now, was a concerted effort to disrupt the programme of getting a defence platform built to protect Earth from invasion.

  He turned back to Osbourne, still a young man at thirty one, who was shouldering a lot of responsibility himself heading up the technical and design teams for the Space programme. Nevertheless, Osbourne would have to manage the new problem of a spy in his midst while he tried to prepare for an invasion.

  “Okay, Osbourne, your objective is to uncover the saboteur in your team. It sounds like it would have to be someone close. I suggest you lay a trap and see who bites.”

  Osbourne nodded, pensive and thoughtful. He had been coming to the same conclusion himself probably, Frank thought.

  “Yes, I think I can do that now I know there is nothing wrong with my design. I can also take a look at the blueprints Pod sent me of their weapons and formulate a defence to them, if needed. I suspect Ferris would be surprised at how far we have progressed. Have you thought there might be more than one saboteur in here?”

  Frank considered for a moment and then, as if making a mental decision, he leaned forward as if to confide in Osbourne.

  “Ossie, I can tell you that I have had our best people working on maintaining security on this Island, and our computer systems are analysing every conversation, in both directions. Visitors and employees are regularly scanned on, and off, the Island and nobody here has been missed out on our vigilant security checks.

  Despite this, I believe that no complex such as ours can maintain security one hundred percent without making prisoners of all of its people. It’s why we cannot get people into the Fortress; their workers are prisoners within their mountain base.”

  Frank stood up, he pressed his intercom button to summon Annie.

  “Now, I need to go and talk to the military, we need to step up our level of alertness. Let me know if you need security to help you find your ‘leak’.”

  Annie came through the door as they both got ready to leave.

  “Annie, cancel all appointments for the rest of this morning. You will find me over at Pennington-Brown’s. Oh, and tell him I am coming over, Code Red, please.”

  Annie looked startled; her lip quivered at the mention of a ‘Code Red’ which she knew meant imminent threat of attack. She still vividly remembered the last one at the White House. She withdrew from the room ahead of them and went to her desk to contact the General.

  “Osbourne,” Frank grabbed his arm to delay him, “let me know how you get on and watch your back, son. Make sure you have someone you trust behind you, at all times.” He waited until he saw Osbourne nod, and then let him continue, his globe bobbing along behind him.

  General John Pennington-Brown received the call from Frank’s secretary with concern. He had three meetings with staff this morning, he was already behind schedule. The alarm systems had been causing security grief throughout the last week. They suspected tampering, possibly from the inside.

  Pennington had come across this before, once or twice, when they were fighting insurgents in the desert. They would sneak up to the fences and set off alarms using something innocuous to watch response times and direction.

  If this was the game here, then he needed to step up the level of alertness. He wondered briefly at the timing of Frank’s visit. Had he heard whispers and was coming to check?

  “Staffie, take that old beaten-up kitbag out of here, I’m expecting the President any moment and he will want somewhere to sit.”

  Pennington, as most of his colleagues called him, wasn’t a desk General; he preferred the ‘hands on’ approach, to rubber stamping orders. It was why he was considered one of the best leaders and strategists in the NATO Alliance. His men followed him to a man. He had taken over here on day one of the formation of the Space Council, recognising the significance of such an organisation immediately. He used the office only as a dumping ground and for personal meetings. It was not a salubrious area.

  Staff Sergeant Jennings returned with the President in tow.

  “Morning, Pennington. Sorry to break up your morning program, but some thing’s come up, we need to talk,” the President said as he breezed in through the door.

  “Frank, good to see you too,” he rose to shake hands.

  They were good friends, having met each other occasionally while Frank was US President, but didn’t see much of each other due to the workload they both were under most of the time. He could see that Frank looked worried, his suspicions grew. Something was brewing.

  “Well, man, don’t beat up the locals, tell us what’s got you rushing over here from ‘The Palace’. “

  It was a standing joke on the island as the SC main building, like everything else built here, had to be functional. ‘The Palace’ was a pre-fabricated building, put together by Zeke and his AI over a couple of weeks. They still had nanites crawling around the building putting in wiring and vents they had forgotten to include in the design.

  “We have a problem, John. The Fortress appears to be preparing for an attack of some sort, they have new weapons...” He stifled Pennington’s response while he finished.

  “I don’t know the details. Osbourne is running through some stuff he got hold of, and he will report back to me. We need a War Council as soon as we can muster one, but it needs to be on the back slope for now. We don’t want them to get wind of anything. It appears we might have fifth columnists on the Island.” Frank, having voiced his news finished up looking worried.

  “I was just going to say that I concur. There have been attempts to test out our perimeter over the last week or so, and it's looking suspiciously like an inside job. We are running a log analysis now, but they are probably sidestepping all our regular routines anyhow,” Pennington said.

  “I think we need help, but I’m concerned who to approach. There could be anyone at the back of this so until we know more, it's a matter of keeping everything, as is. I remember the last time I thought I had a handle on things, it turned out to be the one person I thought I could count on. I hope this isn’t going to be a repetition of that event,” Frank moaned.

  “Frank, if you're talking about the attempted coup, I understand. I assure you I’m not that person. We will get through this, but I respect your concerns. I will attempt to run a covert run-up to a potential attack and see if we can get the state of readiness amongst the troops to a higher level.”

  “Fine, I think that’s the most we can do without knowing the when, and the how of it. I will let you know what Osbourne discovers.” Frank stood to leave, putting his hand out and receiving a strong response from Pennington, saw himself out of the room as fast as he came in.

  He left Pennington in a pensive mood. It was going to take a huge effort of misdirection and subterfuge to get themselves onto a war footing without alerting the enemy. He would go talk to his Subs, they could always be counted on in a tight corner. They had been together a long time and had each others' backs.

  - 4 -

  Disturbed at the possibility of the Fortress getting into space before Space Island had established a presence, had set Pod thinking. Pod was considerin
g that Fortress getting an advantage at this stage might be interpreted by Zirkos as a setback to the Makers’ plans to protect Earth from attack. To Pod, other than its relationship with certain humans, there appeared to be no difference between Ferris, or Garner, getting into space first. It could see the benefits of both.

  As a result, it was fighting the subroutines that were forcing it to take a stance. It didn’t realise this was a result of its growing sentience and the growing desire to rebel against its programming. All Pod could see was that it wanted to support the strongest candidate.

  However, for some inexplicable reason, Pod felt the need to proceed with haste to rectify something that perhaps should not have occurred while it was responsible for Earth’s technological evolution. Pod also felt that Zeke, wherever he was, would criticise the AI in some way if Ferris got up there first. The AI didn’t see the connection between its desire to please Zeke and its haste to resolve the matter.

  When Ship had been in charge, Pod had been responsible for monitoring all communications. After Ship had gone, Pod’s programming was updated to take account of its new role. Therefore, it computed logically, that it alone was responsible for the oversight.

  Now, as it hovered over Space Island, it linked up and analysed all of the communications recorded by its cloaked globes stationed around the world. It then processed all records recovered from the Fortress along with the new files it had compiled whilst being kept prisoner in the Laboratory.

  Other than the normal range of conversations and data transfer exchanges it had come to expect and could graph as standard, there seemed to be two specific report spikes where calls either originated from, or were connected to. One was in Africa, the second somewhere in the Pan Asian sector.

  Pod pulled up its Space Council records and checked the membership details. Neither of these nations were part of the Space Council. Either they were deemed too small, too unstable, or they had other agendas.

  Taking note of the GPS location of the African connection, Pod D-jumped to the approximate grid section of the calls. Then, while cloaked, visually surveyed the area for signs of Fortress activity. The only things visible were rough terrain, deep ravines and wadis that were barren, arid and wild. Pod had expected to see buildings, factories or something like a space-port

  It was about to widen its search area when a large A-Grav sled appeared from nowhere, approaching Pod’s current location. It was travelling on an intercept course so Pod would have to move, or force a collision. Still smarting from its earlier capture at the Fortress, Pod took no chances and D-jumped a hundred feet behind the sled, thinking to watch if it changed direction, or gave chase.

  Instead, the sled carried on without deviating from its original route, then promptly disappeared from view as if consumed by the ravine.

  Pod, realising the sled had entered a shielded area that was also camouflaged, activated its deep terrain sensors. These humans are smart; they innovate so well, Pod thought, as it took note of the frequencies being used while trying to analyse the changes that had been made in an effort to negate them.

  The new design was not good enough to fool its deep sensors, but optically it was totally effective against its visual ones. Humans would never discover the complex even if they were standing directly in front of it.

  Now having activated all of the sensors on its small craft, Pod attempted to break through the screening, but had no luck doing so. After several hours of circling the area trying to find a way in, Pod decided to map it all instead, then jumped to the Asian region, where it found things laid out quite differently.

  Here there were the makings of a Space Port. However, the buildings it expected to see weren’t immediately apparent. Having learned from the African zone, Pod set the sensors and quickly uncovered a mass of buildings large enough to contain a spaceship, all extremely well hidden behind camouflage shields.

  There was, without question, some clandestine operation going on here and in Africa. Pod summoned the nearest cloaked globe and set it to patrol the area of the suspect space port. It would monitor the cloaked buildings and anything that moved would be recorded and immediately transmitted to Pod for attention.

  It D-Jumped back to the African zone and did the same there, setting the globe to vary its level in case any more A-Grav sleds appeared out of nowhere.

  The Crystal Palace buzzed with activity. They had caught a ship purely by chance using a new trap. This utilised a unique transparent web designed to be hitched between multiple stationary points where a laser carrying neutralisers could catch and disable all known shield and cloak designations.

  They were planning to use the system to herd Nonnies into a corral in space where they could be eliminated for Palace entertainment. Instead, they had caught a covert ship, cloaked and shielded, very close to their home. It was a punishable offence, one of re-compositioning. The only thing that saved it from immediate disintegration was the need for parts and materials.

  The Hive consisted of three massive asteroids cobbled together to form a Mother-ship where the resident workers and clones spent their time inside the hollowed out hulks or on the surface. There was no atmosphere outside and the gravity was weaker there. Occasionally, passing debris could knock one or more workers off the surface, so it was very dangerous work. The higher classes worked inside.

  The ship had become accidentally trapped which, unfortunately, disabled its shields and cloak, leaving it at the mercy of the Shadow-ship that flew to intercept it. After being threatened with disintegration, the being had managed to transfer itself by unknown means, to an area below the palace which housed Nubl relics of times long past.

  Discovered by the clones working in their museum, it was quickly cornered. As soon as it was understood the intruder was a biological being, the area was closed off and the warrior clones moved in to finish it off.

  By chance, one of the sentinel clones had access to one of the relic machines that identified the being as the hated enemy of the Nubl, the Jenari. At that moment the Queen, who had been following the scene with mild interest, became animated and excited. It was no longer a minor issue, the Queen now took control.

  They were summoned to bring it to the Palace. Its fate would be meted out by the Queen's hand. They forced the being to accompany them by jabbing it with their electrical prods, the usual tool of the warrior clones when bullying and chivvying the workers.

  The Queen waited impatiently for their arrival in the throne room. Summoning the group to her, she looked at the being that had been the ancient enemy of the Nubl; it was silver-skinned, her memories did not recollect its colour being so. She quickly decided the matter was irrelevant and approached it with such ferocity that it caused the Jenari to step back in fear, directly into the prods that forced it to a halt, its pain evident. She sneered in arrogant satisfaction.

  The Queen surveyed the living creature with the accumulated disgust born of millennia. It was an abhorrent thing but was the first Jenari being discovered for many thousands of years. All hives believed their greatest enemy had been eradicated. Yet, after aeons of thinking them to be extinct, here stood one, perhaps even the last.

  The Queen opened her neural channels deciding to broadcast to all her clones and drones, the visual and sensual experience of having this, their greatest of all enemies here, at her mercy. She would allow them to share and savour the experience for it was one that would be forever remembered.

  The excited feedback at the anticipation of killing a sentient, caused the black tar-like venom in the Crystal Queens' Jew-claw to pump prematurely to the surface where the lethal concoction bubbled precariously at the very tip.

  The long unfelt ecstasy almost caused her to rush, potentially diminishing the rare thrill of talon sinking deeply into flesh; of watching while her poison caused unimaginable agony while burning through flesh, reducing everything it touched to acrid embers.

  She extended the claw malevolently toward the open and inviting throat of the being's sil
very skin, now beaded with perspiration and fluttering with tension. The dark viscous globule, falling prey to the asteroids gravity, slid down the side of her talon, dripping ominously onto the collar of his grey jacket. The burning hiss of acidic corrosion created noxious fumes as it instantly dissolved the fabric.

  The silver being’s nostrils flared, reacting to the fumes. His body desperately attempted a flight response to the threat of imminent extinction which screamed for him to run, but the thrall of the Crystal Queen held him. Instead, he tottered, back and forth, on the tips of his toes as she toyed with him, willing him onto her waiting talon.

  Fighting all the way, his will finally succumbed. He leaned forward to impale himself on her expectant claw. Then just as she felt her approaching climax, his presence shimmered, faded. Then, with the sound of air popping from the inward rush of air racing to fill the vacuum, the alien disappeared.

  The thwarted Queen, seeing him disappear before her very eyes and inadvertently transmitting the whole scene immediately to her hive, screamed in incandescent fury in her highest octaves, driving her vocal chords to such extremes that crystal workers around her, first oscillated, then vibrated and finally, shattered from the intensity of her pitch.

  By the time her temper tantrum had subsided, forty two of her drones and three clones including her ‘Ta, had perished. Many more were damaged, some beyond further use.

  She swore to find the dreaded enemy that had eluded her claw and vowed to draw his torture out over ages as she slowly poisoned his system with her diluted venom. He would pay, they would all pay. The hunt was on, her blood was up.

  Osbourne was poring over the blueprint designs that Pod had sent. This was about the fifteenth, or sixteenth set he had gone over. The modifications, necessary to much of the defence equipment in place, could easily be made if he had Pod here to help fabricate...

  “Ossie?”