The Odyssey and the Iliad (Kinsella Universe Book 7)

by Gina Marie Wylie

  The woman shook her head. “You need to fire your sensor department. What, you saw two ships, one larger than the other? You’re assuming the Alabama was the larger of the two.”

  The female admiral grimaced.

  “Wonderful! Colonel Trimble, a dozen more men to deal with the shuttle!”

  The admiral drew herself up. “Yolanda Ruiz?”

  “Yes,” Yolanda replied.

  The admiral smiled wanly. “You will have to excuse me as I send the children to bed. Colonel Grimes, Commander Booth, Lieutenants Carter, Yardley and Rosen, Senior Pilot Officer Makaa, please remain. The rest of you are dismissed.”

  “Those of you I named, come with me.”

  Yolanda was led to an electric cart, and then whisked to what was obviously a conference room. She was seated next to the admiral; never in her life had Yolanda met such a formidable personality, not even her mother.

  When they were gathered in the room the admiral contemplated them all for a moment. “This is, for me, an open-ended meeting. Some of you will be asked to leave at times, others will be included. If I’m not in the room, talk about the weather on Jupiter. I have it on good authority that the storm represented by the Red Spot is finally breaking up after having been a feature for perhaps a millennia.

  “Senior Pilot Officer Makaa, do you know the individual known as ‘Yolanda Ruiz?’”

  “I know of her, sir. I had very infrequent contact with a sister of mine. I was the younger, and Nita was selected to go to the Federation when I was still an infant. Some years ago, I received a birth announcement of her daughter. My sister is the proximate reason why I am here today. It would be a good thing if you ever bring me into proximity with Captain Moore again that you make sure I am restrained. I will kill her if I get the chance.”

  “Do you, Miss Ruiz, know Senior Pilot Officer Makaa?”

  “My mother told me once that I had an aunt younger than she was. She told me that we were unlikely ever to meet.”

  “It seems stretching coincidence, Pilot Officer, that Miss Ruiz made her escape when you were close.”

  “I told your intelligence officers we had concerns that an order to execute the stay behinds had already been given. Captain Moore was intended as insurance, in case the order was delayed or lost.

  “We had less than a hundred individuals active in the Federation; four of them had relatives who were still in the Union. The agents were, for the most part, deeply embedded. Only a few were genetically modified -- even though it was our belief that you would never notice.”

  “And yet your sister was brought here -- for what reason, Pilot Officer?”

  “Individuals who had been on Earth for generations had mostly unaltered genomes. That was one of our mistakes, being too free with clearing ‘unnecessary’ DNA from our ancestors. Every few years we would exchange an Earth-born infant for a Union infant.

  “I alluded to this to Colonel Grimes. His refugees represent a tremendous asset. Even one egg is worth a princely sum. A few cc’s of sperm are wealth beyond measure to my people. One reason the former government fell was that people learned that the government had ordered the destruction of the habitat Odyssey. Nothing could have served as a better warning of their malicious intent.”

  “Colonel Grimes?” Admiral Merriweather invited.

  The man in the Marine uniform shook his head. “I never put it together, Admiral. Although, on thought, I doubt if I could have done things differently.”

  Admiral Merriweather tapped a folder in front of her. “In here is a blanket pardon for any offenses committed by anyone I name. Your name, Colonel, heads the list, followed by Senior Pilot Officer Makaa.

  “Commander Booth, are you ready to give that briefing I asked of you?”

  “Here? Now?”

  “Roger that, Commander.”

  Commander Booth stood and cleared her throat. The admiral laughed.

  “A last few words for those present. What you will hear is a code word top secret briefing. You are never to talk to anyone about it, until the war is over -- and you had better be sure of your ground even then. You are only authorized to talk about it at a meeting with four- or five-star admirals present, Rear Admiral Zinder or myself. That’s one of us physically present in the room. You are to report anyone else who brings the subject up in any other venue to one of the authorized admirals. I assure you, you have a communication’s priority -- and you will be very, very sorry if you misuse that priority.

  “Commander Booth, you may begin. Lieutenant Carter and Miss Ruiz, please hold comments until she finishes.”

  Bethany Booth covered her work on the alien language in about forty minutes. She finished with, “Any questions?”

  The admiral squashed that. “No questions. You reported results in your endeavors, Lieutenant Carter?”

  The young officer stood. “I told Admiral Fletcher I had, when in fact I had only gotten as far as confirming earlier research. Miss Ruiz made the breakthrough.”

  “He said that’s what you’d said. Now, was that freely given, or given under duress?”

  The young man laughed. “She went through Alabama’s computers like poop through a goose. She figured out pretty much what I was doing, found the recordings I was using and a few seconds later knew what they were saying. I was still suffering from repeated changes in acceleration. They never seemed to bother Miss Ruiz. She decelerated at fourteen gravities to dock with Alabama and something worse after she had the ship. I first figured her for an alien observer.”

  Yolanda explained what she had surmised. Admiral Merriweather nodded sagely when she finished. “We have two additional people headed here, a married couple. They are linguists, probably the best in the Federation.

  “Miss Ruiz -- you promised to tell us how you exploited Alabama’s computers.”

  “And I will be pardoned?”

  “You already have been, Miss Ruiz, your name is currently the last on my list.”

  “We have never targeted the Federation government or its military. Two hundred and fifty years ago, one of our people worked for Masters Computers, the ancestor of your company these days, ‘Sky Masters.’ The agent knew what was being developed -- software that would automate to a great extent the operation of a starship. The agent inserted a ‘back door’ into the code, under the guise of something else entirely. That code has been included in every AI since... the Fleet didn’t adapt the software for fifty years.” She grinned, “Aside from that, it is one of the more useful pieces of code.

  “As I told Lieutenant Carter, it takes a while to set up.”

  “And the computer running Thebes?” Admiral Merriweather asked.

  “Maybe you should have multi-sourced your AIs,” Yolanda said primly.

  “Poop!” the admiral said. “I assume it is very well hidden, since it has been around so long?”

  “Yes, Admiral.”

  “Say no more on this subject. You and I will have a private meeting later. We will discuss this then.” The admiral consulted the clock. “With the exception of Miss Ruiz, the rest of you may leave. Please have Commander Nishnamurti come in.”

  A lean, dark, hawk-faced woman came in. “Commander, you will sit at this table. You do not have leave to speak until I tell you to.”

  “Aye, aye, Admiral.”

  Admiral Merriweather waved at Yolanda. “This individual took command of the Fleet Survey Ship Alabama and hijacked it.”

  “Impossible,” the commander stated with assurance.

  “Unless you wish your deputy to assume command of your shop after your relief for cause, do not open your mouth again without permission. You are bound to know of my very short temper and the regard I hold Port officers. We have no time to waste here; transgress again and you will be set down.

  “Now, to continue from before the interruption, Alabama was in a parking orbit near Grissom Station. Miss Ruiz says that she took control of Alabama over two hours, without tripping any intrusion alarms. She then boarded the sh
ip, and a short time later went to High Fan, having complete control of Alabama.

  “Miss Ruiz has informed me that Thebes is subject to the same exploit. You will listen without interruption to how that is done. You will retire at once to your shop, where you personally shall do whatever is required to render the exploit inert, then inform me in private of what you have done. Miss Ruiz is authorized to check your work.

  “Miss Ruiz, please, if you would.”

  Yolanda stood. “I harbor no love for a Federation that condemned me to death before I was born. I have the word, only, of Fleet officers that the Federation did not put my mother to death.

  “I spoke the truth when I said that the Alabama took two hours to take over. However, in essence, I lied. What happened was that I uttered two strings of nonsense syllables nearly an hour apart, and then I took command just before I docked. Admiral, it was my mother who told me three different ways to take control of a Fleet ship. I have no intention of telling you the other methods.”

  Yolanda looked at Admiral Merriweather. “I have already assumed control of your ship, Admiral. Although I don’t think anything this large can be properly called a ‘ship.’”

  Admiral Merriweather looked at Commander Nishnamurti. “You have something to say, Commander?”

  “And will I be boarded and shot for saying it?”

  Admiral Merriweather laughed. “Not for saying it, if it is a rational comment.”

  “The young woman says she has command of Thebes. Perhaps a harmless demonstration is in order?”

  “Oh, goodie! A test! I do really well on tests!” Yolanda exclaimed. “Ship detection at 1.6 light seconds, will broadcast Carter 3, and then vanish,” Yolanda chortled.

  Alarms sounded. “Battle stations! No Drill! Unknown ship has appeared at 1.2 light seconds!” the intercom reported. “Unknown was there for three seconds, then vanished!”

  Yolanda gestured at the admiral. “How well do you think your crew did at a ‘no drill’ battle stations alert?”

  Admiral Merriweather stared at Yolanda for long, long seconds. She picked up the phone, set it to speaker and called her Flag Captain. “Well?”

  “Admiral?” he replied, sounding confused.

  “Run a drill. Ship dropping from fans at a light second or two.”

  “At once, Admiral.”

  Admiral Merriweather turned to Yolanda. “Well?”

  “It seemed pointless to exercise the five hundred and eleven members of your crew. A no-notice fan transition would have incapacitated three people of your crew.”

  “She had control of the intercoms?” Commander Nishnamurti asked.

  “It was never my intention to injure anyone, but I command this ship. If I wish to go to High Fan, that will happen,” Yolanda Ruiz told Admiral Merriweather.

  “Commander Nishnamurti , rid me of this pestilence! As I said, report what you do to stop it, and then tell me what you can do to prevent it! I want to have the nonsense syllables that Miss Ruiz gives you, in private, rendered inert.”

  “She only spoofed the intercom.”

  The lights in the compartment flicked off for two seconds and then came back on.

  “You are relieved, Commander. Call your deputy, have him here in the shortest imaginable time.” Admiral Merriweather snorted. “Belay that order! Stay where you are, Commander. I’ll deal with this.”

  Admiral Merriweather left the briefing room. Steve Yardley was just outside, along with two civilians, Admiral Zinder, Commander Booth and Lieutenant Rosen. She spoke to Admiral Zinder. “Admiral, I will be delayed for a time. Have your civilians interview Yardley here. Lieutenant Rosen, I had meant to dismiss you shortly. Now, I want you to fly like the wind and tell Captain Hargrove I will see him shortly in this office, and tell him I need his two best Marine NCOs with him, and bearing their sidearms. Tell him I need to see Lieutenant Commander Stimson as well, forthwith.”

  The admiral smiled. “Your day just got longer, Lieutenant.”

  The admiral turned to Commander Booth, “A moment of your time, Commander,” she said gesturing to the briefing room.

  Commander Nishnamurti was still standing where she had been.

  “Admiral,” Commander Nishnamurti started to speak, “I’m sorry. I’m not half as dim as I appear.”

  “I would say that you are twice as stupid as you think. Now, be quiet on peril of your life.

  “Commander Booth, you will escort this officer to her quarters, under close arrest. She is not permitted to make a sound to anyone. You are authorized deadly force to prevent this officer from communicating with anyone about anything, no matter how trivial you think it is. The communication prohibition extends to you and the Marines. She is not to communicate in any way, manner or means with anyone. I will conduct an interview with her as soon as I get done with the tasks at hand.”

  There was a gentle rap on the door and Captain Hargrove stuck his head in. There were two grizzled Marines in shipsuits behind him.

  “Captain Hargrove, the Thebes’ computers have been compromised. Turn them off.”

  “Yes, sir.” The captain was gone a second later, shouting orders to the bridge crew.

  “Consider the captain’s response to something he clearly finds unpalatable to yours, Commander. Be silent until told otherwise. The Port Arm treats Port officers who are relieved for cause by the Fleet Arm very well. ‘And this, too, shall pass.’”

  Commander Booth and her party moved out, as Lieutenant Commander Stimson came in. “Close the door, Commander,” Admiral Merriweather said. When the door was closed, the admiral continued. “Standing before you is the woman who currently commands all the systems aboard Thebes -- until Captain Hargrove shuts them down in a few seconds.

  “She will explain to you in broad how she did it, then she will tell you privately the specifics. You, and you alone will know the code. Render that code harmless; take notes. I will tell you how we will disseminate the information once you are sure you’ve squashed that exploit.”

  “You know this for a fact, sir?” he asked the admiral.

  “That it is so.”

  “Admiral, I intended a last demonstration,” Yolanda said. “Is your captain likely to resort to violent methods to effect the shutdown or would he report back on his inability?”

  “He’ll report back.”

  “Commander Stimson, if you would, please sit at a position. Then, very carefully, key the numbers 47 and 32 separated by a space.”

  “Forty-seven space thirty-two,” he responded.

  “Twice hit the enter key,” Yolanda told him.

  “Done,” came the reply.

  “Now the same two numbers. 47 space 32 and enter twice, then repeat the sequence a third time. Be careful.”

  After a few seconds the commander reported he was done again. “Type your full rank, your full name and your day code and challenge in the usual format, then hit return.”

  This time there was more typing before the commander reported, “Done!”

  “Type the word ‘shutdown’ and hit return.”

  He did and looked at the admiral, who nodded and he hit return.

  “How long will it take you to brief Commander Stimson on the exploit, Miss Ruiz?”

  “I’ll be honest, Admiral. All I know are keys, not how they work,” Yolanda waved at the terminal. “Finding out where the code is is beyond me.”

  “I will leave the two of you alone and undisturbed here for as long as it takes. Now I have another fire to deal with.”

  It took a few minutes to round up the participants for the next meeting. Finally, Admiral Zinder and the two doctors from Earth were in a conference room, along with Admiral Merriweather and Lieutenant Yardley. The last person to arrive was Senior Pilot Officer Makaa.

  Admiral Merriweather was characteristically blunt. “You all know why we are here. Let’s get started with the experiment.”

  Dr. Kemp sat up as if poked. “My God! It’s really possible! I was surprised at what little
I heard about the AI interface and wondered how much of it was disinformation.”

  “Doctor Kemp,” Donna Merriweather said gently, “I was there when my medical officer was forced, against her will, to touch her nose by the AI that was Tiger, my ship at the time. I put her up for a medal because of that -- she bounced back and did the removal of my chip flawlessly.

  “What did you see?”

  “A long billboard, with the words ‘plausible deniability’ on the left. Then the ingredient portions.”

  “And now I can see the same thing in my mind now,” Dr. Miller said.

  Makaa grinned. “I haven’t said a word. That’s your fevered imaginations.”

  “Can you prepare the injection?” Admiral Merriweather asked.

  “Of course, young woman!”

  “Admiral Merriweather, a moment, if I may,” Makaa asked.

  “Of course, Senior Pilot Officer Makaa.”

  “I don’t wish to disparage you or any other Fleet officer. However, what I’m about to say is very true.

  “I read it in the minds of the lieutenant you sent to command your boarding party and the tech I interviewed.

  “What I saw was a disturbing series of what I’d call lack of thought. You, meaning the Federation, have repeatedly found things since the war started that were, bluntly, inexcusable oversights in your thinking. It makes me wonder what we ourselves are missing...

  “Be that as it may, you had not the wit to ask how I knew Steve Yardley was a telepath.

  “Telepaths, in the Union, are normally tightly controlled. None, for instance, have been allowed to return to Federation space until now.

  “The dosages I gave Dr. Kemp and Dr. Miller were different. Dr. Kemp’s was for Lieutenant Yardley. Dr. Miller’s was for Dr. Kemp. She, too, has the right genes.”

  Makaa bowed to Dr. Kemp. “You are a very intelligent woman, Dr. Kemp; I dare say my equal. Lieutenant Yardley, you will find, is like a blazing sun, outshining all of our lesser orbs. If you would, prepare both injections.”

  “Me? You think I’m a telepath?” Jan exclaimed.

  Admiral Merriweather interrupted. “I’m amazed at our oversight. How do you detect a latent telepath, Senior Pilot Officer Makaa?”