Supernova

by C. Gockel

  “Do you recognize the man?”

  “No, I don’t recognize him! I told you that before!” Volka exclaimed, her lip curling and ears flattening. She was grasping the metal table, and her nails hurt as she tried to dig into its surface.

  The man rolled back on his feet. “You are lying.”

  “I am not!”

  “We have proof now!” he exclaimed, and oh, he believed it.

  The man smiled, thin and cruel. “Now, let me tell you how it is going to go. You are going to hand over control of the Skimmers to Fleet command, effective immediately.”

  “I will not,” Volka snarled.

  There was a tablet on his side of the table. She entertained thoughts of diving for it and bringing it down on the side of the man’s head. He picked it up, and cradled it against his stomach, and smiled again. “Very well, then you will be sent to S2O15.” She glared at him, but then gulped, seeing the picture in his mind.

  Huffing, he said, “That means nothing to you. So, I’ll enlighten you. S2O15 has no atmosphere. You’d be relegated to caves deep beneath the ground, where your starship could never rescue you. Nor would you rescue yourself. It has gravity 25% greater than that of Earth. It’s not a place where it’s easy to employ guards; most of them tend to be machines, dumb machines, not the sort you’re used to. With too few human personnel, the ‘bots tend to break down.” He smiled. “It’s a very lawless place. Male prisoners outnumber female prisoners fifteen to one.”

  Volka’s nostrils flared. He knew she’d turned down the “offer” to become Commander Ran’s “weere” and was trying to frighten her in the best way he knew how.

  Shrugging, the man said, “Maybe if you were lucky, you’d be adopted by a gang of them, and they’d keep you safe from the rest.”

  His pupils dilated, imagining it. She smelled his arousal as he purred, “I’m sure it wouldn’t be pleasant for a monogamous animal like you, but it would be better than the alternative.”

  “You can’t do this,” Volka said.

  “Oh, yes we can,” he whispered.

  Volka gasped. He wasn’t lying. He believed it. Her heart sank, and she felt Sundancer’s fear and the elderships’ confusion. She reached out to her crew … the Marines were close, angry about her being escorted from the hangar by Intelligence. Dr. Patrick was confused; he kept thinking that Volka was too simple to commit treason. He thought this was all just a mistake, that soon they’d realize she wasn’t capable of scheming, and all would be well. Ears flattening, she searched for Sixty’s Q-comm’s sparkle and Carl or Shissh—

  A speck of spittle landed on her cheek, drawing her back to the real world. “Give us the ships,” her interrogator demanded. He put the tablet on the table and slid it toward her.

  Shaking her head, Volka glared at the device. Words had appeared on its surface, and a light blinked at its top. There was a stylus tucked into the side. She was supposed to sign it. The light was a camera that would read her retina.

  “The ships won’t work for you,” Volka growled.

  The man barked, “Leave that to us!”

  Volka’s ears perked. That had made him angry; he suspected it was true. “You know it’s true,” she whispered.

  “I know you’re a liar.” He sneered.

  “The Republic needs the ships. We’re at war. Over three million people just died in New Grande!” Volka insisted. “The Skimmers are the Republic’s only faster-than-light ships. You’ll lose one of the few advantages you have.”

  The man abruptly spun away from the table. The door opened, and Volka gasped. There were four Marines in full combat armor. Three had stunner pistols out; one had cuffs.

  The Fleet Intelligence officer said, “If we can’t control the ships, this negotiation is a waste of time. Maybe you’ll reconsider after a few weeks on S2O15.”

  He wasn’t lying.

  Stepping out of the way, Volka’s interrogator jerked his thumb in her direction. “Cuff her.”

  The Marines came into the room. She couldn’t see their faces, but she could smell them—they were completely unfamiliar to her. She was too scared not to use telepathy, and reading their minds, she knew they had no idea who she was. They had no intention whatsoever of disobeying. As far as they were concerned, this was business as usual. Volka drew back in her chair, feeling terribly small, vulnerable, and alone. The Marine with the cuffs was three steps away. Two steps away. One step away … and his hand was on her arm, and his grip was so tight it hurt. He pulled her up—

  “Wait!” the voice was Captain Orion Smith’s. Volka gulped. The Marine hauling her upright relaxed his grip. Volka took a deep breath, smelled Orion and … sex, a lot of sex. Craning her neck, she looked past the Marines, and saw Orion in the doorway. Next to him stood a female sex ‘bot with blonde hair and a body with very exaggerated proportions. She wore something as a skirt that would only be deemed wide enough to be a belt on Luddeccea. She did have a belt—a thin cord of black wrapped twice around her waist above the would-be skirt and below a bikini top. The belt’s only function seemed to be to accent her impossibly thin waist. She bounced on her heels, giggled, and waved at Volka, nearly sending the exaggerated proportions spilling over the top. Next to her, Orion looked gray. He was filled with wordless terror.

  “Captain Smith,” said the Marine holding Volka’s arm. His eyes went to the sex ‘bot; 32DD was her model number if Volka recalled correctly.

  “He is not a captain anymore,” her interrogator said.

  Volka’s eyes widened. He wasn’t lying. She felt a wave of shame from Orion.

  But one of the Marines tilted his head, and through his visor Volka saw his left eye flash green. In his mind’s eye, she saw what the Marine saw, a restricted-access, Fleet file on Orion … and it still said “Captain.” “Excuse me, sir, but he is still on record as being a captain.”

  Shock and a thought fluttered from Orion, How can that be …?

  Four heads jerked toward Volka’s interrogator, and mistrust began to bubble between them, but the grip on Volka’s arms remained.

  Orion cleared his throat. “Volka is a civilian, and you may not arrest her.”

  “She is accused of treason!” her interrogator said.

  “And was not given a lawyer, as a civilian—”

  “Her statements are under oath and permissible in court,” the interrogator said.

  “Her lawyer will see to that, Mr. Obduran,” Orion said.

  Volka’s interrogator, who must be Obduran, said, “We are allowed to keep her in custody on S2O15. Her lawyer can meet with her there.”

  “She is allowed a lawyer now,” Orion said.

  Looking between Orion and the sex ‘bot, Obduran spread his hands. “I don’t see a lawyer here … Unless you intend to defend her yourself.” He frowned. “I warn you, as soon as that door closes, your ether will be jammed.”

  Orion’s eyes met Volka’s. He smelled like fear and sweat. He felt such pity for her, and terror, and shame. He hated leaving her, but something even worse than what was happening to her was about to happen in Fleet’s section of Time Gate 1, and he was going to try to stop it. Pointing at the sex ‘bot beside him, Orion said, “No, she’s going to be her lawyer.”

  The sex ‘bot waved again, jiggled, and blew Volka a kiss.

  Somewhere down the hall a door whooshed open and closed. Everyone in the room, including Volka, gaped at the sex ‘bot, and then Obduran actually laughed. “Be my guest.”

  Gulping, Orion gave the ‘bot a little push into the room, and then turned and fled, his mind half the real world and half ether codes and schematics Volka didn’t understand. The door swished closed immediately behind the ‘bot. In tiny mincing steps, the ‘bot passed the Marines, pulled up a chair beside Volka, and sat down. Crossing her legs, she waved a tiny shoe at the end of a toe. Volka tried not to wince at her smell: old sex, recent sex, and multiple human males of many ages. Sixty always swore sex ‘bots were very sanitary. Maybe this one had some faulty code.r />
  Lifting her shoulders, she squealed and smiled at Volka. “My name is 32DD. I’m going to play your lawyer now.”

  Maybe she’d been sent by Sixty; maybe she had a Q-comm and just didn’t show it. “Thank you, ma’am,” Volka said, and then realized she’d made a mistake.

  Volka’s politeness made Obduran wary. “You one of those sex ‘bots with a Q-comm?” he asked.

  32DD squealed again. “No, silly, I’m not that smart.”

  Volka’s heart fell.

  Obduran snorted. He was genuinely amused. Volka’s ears flattened at his thoughts. Although he’d been impatient before, he was sure this would be worth a few minutes of his time.

  Touching her lips with a finger, 32DD said, “Now, I’ve been informed that you must give me a record of the trial so far by legal statute—” She rolled off a long code of numbers and letters that made Volka’s eyes cross. And then 32DD bounced in her seat and said, “That is what I would say if I was a real lawyer, right?”

  Laughing and shaking his head, Obduran ejected a chip from his neural port and handed it to the sex ‘bot. “Since it’s the law,” he said with an indulgent shrug.

  32DD popped it into her own port and nodded sagely. “Interesting. Interesting,” and then she turned to Volka and said not-reassuringly, “I really don’t understand it at all.”

  “Oh,” said Volka. Her ears sagged.

  “Hurry it up,” said Obduran.

  32DD blinked up at him and smiled. “Oh, I have been told what to do if I go too slow.” She shot a smile at one of the Marines. “I like quickies too!”

  Obduran rolled his eyes heavenward.

  32DD grabbed her belt and unhooked the useless thing.

  Obduran laughed. “You’re not going to have sex with us in here!” Volka blushed. He was really wishing he could … and wickedly thinking how it would embarrass Volka if he had sex with the ‘bot in front of her. Volka’s ears flattened.

  “Oh, I’m going to be quick, I’m going to be quick!” 32DD exclaimed. She plugged one end of the belt into an outlet at the center of the table next to the holo.

  “What are you doing?” Obduran demanded.

  Humming and smiling, 32DD plugged the other end of the belt into her neural port. Her smile dropped abruptly. Her voice, when she spoke, was Bracelet’s. “Mr. Obduran, by Republic law that supersedes Fleet law in this case, any android with a Q-comm is allowed access to their Q-comm when dealing with legal matters.”

  Volka gasped in relief and grabbed 32DD’s hand—or Bracelet’s hand—not caring what it smelled like. Bracelet curled her fingers around Volka’s but did not take her eyes off Obduran.

  “You said you didn’t have a Q-comm!” Obduran said.

  “Not installed locally,” the sex ‘bot said with Bracelet’s voice. “But I am allowed access to it. It’s located here, aboard Time Gate 1, and I’ve just plugged directly into it.”

  “This is a breach of security!” Obduran exclaimed.

  The Marines looked madly between Obduran and Bracelet.

  Bracelet—in 32DD’s body—said, “It is perfectly legal. What isn’t legal is you interrogating a mentally deficient individual without benefit of legal counsel.”

  That hit the Marine holding Volka’s arm hard. His grip slackened. And in his mind, Volka pictured a beautiful little girl with jet black curls and blue eyes, laughing in abandon—a little sister maybe—definitely family.

  “I’m not mentally deficient,” Volka protested. She wouldn’t lie. She couldn’t lie. Her case, her honor depended on her honesty.

  Bracelet squeezed Volka’s fingers. “By Republic law you are, Miss Volka. You don’t have a neural port.”

  All the Marines' attention swept to Volka’s naked temple. The man beside her thought of the little girl’s unaugmented forehead, and her doctor saying, “She’ll be able to get external augments later—she may be able to lead a nearly normal life. There is hope for people like her.”

  Releasing Volka’s hand, Bracelet stroked Volka’s fingers gently, and decidedly oddly, as though verifying Volka was real. She faced Obduran. “She couldn’t have been expected to recognize an individual she’d only seen once before for a few seconds in Luddeccean uniform out of context in civilian dress—”

  “That’s enough!” Obduran growled.

  Volka’s lips parted. That was not something he wanted anyone knowing.

  “—even if,” Bracelet continued, “Volka had a neural interface. If she hadn’t thought to record the event, she wouldn’t have been expected to remember it.” Bracelet tilted her head and pursed her lips. “You know, I am only a machine, but I think threatening a mentally deficient individual with gang rape was really very low.”

  Shock crackled through the Marines with a physical force. Their eyes slid to Obduran.

  Obduran lunged forward, hand outstretched, yanking out the cord between the outlet and 32DD’s temple. Volka gasped, blinked, and realized that hadn’t happened—it was only what Obduran wanted to happen. But the Marine beside Volka had been faster. He was holding Obduran’s wrist just above the cord. The Marine lied smoothly. “I think you slipped there … sir.”

  “Release me, Marine,” Obduran commanded.

  “Sure you’re all right, sir?” the Marine replied perfectly solicitously.

  “You know, I do believe, I think the ‘bot is right about being allowed to be plugged in,” the Marine whose eye had flashed green said. “If you open the door, I’ll be able to etherly verify that regulation.”

  Jerking out of the Marine’s grip, Obduran curled his lip and said to 32DD, “I have her statement.”

  “Her statement is legally void. If she wishes to sue Fleet for entrapment and you personally, she is well within her rights. Threatening gang rape, Obduran—”

  “I did not!” Obduran roared.

  “It’s on record,” Bracelet shot back. The holo had become a soft white light at the center of the table. Bracelet waved a hand, and it switched to Obduran leering above Volka, pupils dilated. The holo Obduran’s lips parted as though to speak … but he didn’t need to. The Marines recognized lust. Volka felt heat rising in their chests, felt them restraining urges for violence.

  Obduran slammed a hand down on the table, and the playback halted. With a flick of his finger, the door opened.

  “My client is free to go,” Bracelet said. “You have no grounds to hold her.”

  The Marine whose eye had flashed green said, “The legal’s right.”

  Obduran stepped toward the table, picturing strangling Volka. “If you leave this station …”

  “She’ll what?” asked Bracelet, and Obduran’s eyes shot to the sex ‘bot, but 32DD’s attention had switched to Volka. “Sixty sent me. As soon as he realized the line of questioning, he knew they’d try to entrap you. You must go to Sundancer now.”

  Volka bit her lip. She hadn’t been alone after all. “Thank you, Bracelet,” Volka whispered.

  Bracelet was holding Volka’s hand again. Looking down at their entwined fingers, Bracelet said, “Your hands are so small and soft … and this body wants to suck your fingers.” Bracelet shook her head fast. “You’re welcome, Miss Volka.” Her lips formed a hard line. “You need to go. Now.”

  Volka rose shakily, and Bracelet followed her around the table until the cord grew taut. Volka paused. Bracelet pushed her through the door. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Bracelet in 32DD’s body yanking out the cord that connected her to her server in the bowels of the gate. The door slid closed. Sound didn’t carry from the interrogation room, but Volka heard what 32DD said in the minds of the humans inside. “Hey, boys, quickies for all!”

  The Marines thought it was hilarious.

  Obduran thought of Volka’s corpse.

  Bracelet’s voice flared over the ether into 6T9’s mind. “She’s out!”

  Crammed in the mechanical room-janitorial closet along with FET12, 6T9 released a breath, and for a nanosecond his relief overwhelmed him. His Q-comm flared
bright white in his mind. As soon as his interrogators had asked him to identify the Luddeccean Guardsmen out of context, he’d known it was an attempt at entrapment—a trap that Volka would fall into headfirst. He’d been in an interrogation room packed with a questioner and four phaser-armed Fleet Marines. He’d thought of killing them, and then he’d remembered almost destroying Lauren G3, going to jail, and being unable to help Volka defeat the Dark. He’d dived into a mindscape and begged for help.

  “Thank you, Bracelet,” FET12 said.

  “No problem. I’m going to help Gate 1 investigate the men who were following you,” Bracelet replied.

  “Thank you again,” FET12 said.

  6T9 rolled on his feet and nodded, though Bracelet couldn’t see that, and he should thank her. The connection died. He and FET12 had been able to legally defend themselves easily enough. They’d gotten themselves released, tried to get to Volka, and then Gate 1 had warned them that they were being followed.

  Outside their hiding place, he heard footsteps pass them by, too heavy to be Volka’s.

  He let his mind flow into Fleet’s security cameras. In the camera’s view, he and FET12 were walking toward the civilian promenade. If 6T9 focused hard on the playback, he could read his own lips. He was talking to FET12 about a new restaurant that had opened up on the gate. It was old footage, but the time stamp was thirty seconds ago. Gate 1 had allowed their pursuers to hack into Fleet security footage and was luring them away with old recordings.

  In the security camera’s frame, 6T9 and FET12 disappeared from view. Seconds later, two men in Fleet Service Grays appeared, hands on the phasers on their hips.