Lyssa's Dream - A Hard Science Fiction AI Adventure (The Sentience Wars - Origins Book 1)
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The next time Andy woke, he was alone.
Chapter Twenty-One
STELLAR DATE: 08.28.2981 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: Lowspin Dock Complex
REGION: Cruithne Station, Terran Hegemony
There were nearly thirty people packed into the repair dock’s command deck, waiting for Ngoba Starl to arrive for the meeting. Outside the narrow windows, flashes of light showed where maintenance crews still worked along Sunny Skies’ outer skin, finishing upgrades to the ship’s power grid.
“Looking good,” Fran said, nodding to Andy. “We’re ahead of schedule. Tests are running green. Your weird little ship is tougher than she looks.”
“Did you already edit the registry?” Andy asked.
“Today. I don’t want to do it the same day of departure. I would have done it earlier but I got hung up with the engines.”
“Have you chosen a name?”
Fran shrugged. “I use a random generator. I don’t want to choose anything too unique. We’re trying to keep you under the radar here, not highlight the retrofitted ship with an interesting name.”
“I know. The kids would love to choose the name, though. How often do you get to name a ship?”
“All the time if you’re me,” Fran said, smirking. “Even if it’s a stream of numbers, you can keep calling her whatever you want. Stick with Sunny Skies. It’s—hopeful.”
Andy put his hand over his heart. “Here lies Andy Sykes, killed on TSS 67888-23.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time.”
“You’re right. It’s just bad luck.”
“I don’t believe in luck,” Fran said. She tapped one of the wrenches hanging from her harness. “Things are made to work. When they don’t, it’s usually because somebody along the line was lazy.”
“Like using a name generator to name my ship,” Andy said, raising an eyebrow.
“Caution isn’t laziness.”
“Neither is a healthy dose of luck,” he said. “Did you perform the rituals?”
Andy had met too many station-based engineers who didn’t believe in luck. But out there, in the black between the tiny points of light where humans lived, luck reigned supreme. The Sunny Skies’ continued existence was proof of that.
Fran sighed. “Yes. I won’t be doing it. One of my men did. He and a bunch of the others wouldn’t set foot back on her until they did it all just so, cost me a couple of pricy bottles of wine, mind you.”
“Good,” Andy nodded. “I fly out to Neptune too often not to piss him off with a renamed ship. Your registry changes may fool the authorities, but I’m not going to risk his anger.”
Fran stared at him. “I haven’t know you long, but you’re the last person I would have guessed was superstitious.”
“If there are gods, or a god, I don’t need to piss them off,” Andy said. “I’ve got enough problems.” He tilted his head. “So, what was the number?”
“Number?” Fran said.
“The name,” Andy said. “What did you name my ship?”
“You probably—” Fran started to answer, when the murmuring in the room lowered and Starl walked through the doorway, cutting her off. He was wearing the flashy EV suit Andy had first seen him in when he and his men had boarded Sunny Skies. He carried his helmet under one arm, a holstered pistol at his hip.
“Friends,” he called out. The room went quiet. “Lowspin, yeah?”
“Lowspin!” everyone but Andy answered in unison. He hadn’t realized he was surrounded by members of the syndicate. They all looked like maintenance workers and technicians.
“Our Fran has finished work on Sunny Skies but we need to get the ship and her crew off Cruithne approximately six hours from now. We know the Havenots and Heartbridge have been scouring the station for the last twenty-four hours, trying to sniff out anything they can about this ship. They’re going to know when any light cargo freighter leaves Cruithne and they’ll run her down before she clears the gravity well. We can’t let that happen, Lowspin. Trust me in this, we’re on the edge of something big here, and this ship needs to get where it’s going. Like always, we don’t have a lot, but what we have matters. We’re sending this ship out on her own but she’ll have help along the way. The trip starts with us.”
A woman standing beside Fran said, “You know Heartbridge has a private battle cruiser parked outside Port Authority periphery, right, Boss?” A few surprised faces turned toward her but the rest seemed aware of the news. “They’ve been tracking all our incoming and outgoing traffic.”
“I got the word,” Starl said. “We’re going to blind their eyes like we would with any TSF scow trying to follow us to High Terra when Earthside comes around. I’m not worried about that whale. I’m worried about all the little sharks she’ll send out after us. They aren’t looking to board and seize. This is a battle we’re looking at. There’ll be a junk yard’s worth of debris left before this is done.”
“So, we’re running a screen?” a man asked. “That sounds easy enough.”
“It will be. But this isn’t your typical smuggling run. They’ll be firing on us and we’ll be firing back. You need to make sure your weapons systems are primed and tested and you’ve got your best crews on board. We don’t have a lot of time to get this together and we also don’t want to tip them off that we’re making preparations. Anyone parked in a standard Port Authority berth isn’t taking part in this unless we’re at the very end and we need to call in the cavalry. I don’t want anyone getting tipped off. Understood?”
Agreement sounded throughout the room.
“What’s the salvage situation, Boss?” someone asked.
Starl grinned. “Free reign. I’m sure Heartbridge has some nice toys. I won’t stop anyone who wants to take a walk through their battle cruiser and pick some things up. Watch your friendly fire and remember any weapons caches go to the crew. No holdouts on that. Understood?”
A few muttered complaints could be heard, but most in the room seemed to accept the edict.
“Captain Sykes!” Starl shouted, pointing through the crowd at Andy and Fran. “Here’s our man. He’s making the long run. Give him some love.” His teeth were white as he grinned.
Cheers went up and Andy got several hard slaps on the back, making his still-sensitive head throb. After a minute, Starl raised his hands again for quiet. “And today we lost one of our new members. Doctor Hari Jickson has passed. If you’d met him, you’d know he was a prickly sort. Emphasis on prick.” A few low chuckles met the joke. “But he did his job the best he could. We owe him much. A moment of silence for him.”
Heads bowed. The silence was broken by a few coughs and shuffling noises.
“Six hours!” Starl shouted when he raised his head. “You’ve all got the timeline and your launch orders. The sorties will launch first, followed by the decoy cargo ships, and then everything else we’ve got. I’ve even thrown a few insults at Zanda so we can draw his fools into the fight. Everyone needs to check their IFF transponders and make sure they’re live. I don’t want any friendly fire or ship-on-ship. No grudges played out today, you understand? We’re all one family. If the Havenots want to sell out their own Cruithne, well that’s on them and theirs.” Starl looked around the room at the faces trained on him. “Questions?” he shouted.
After solving a few logistical issues and convincing one pirate captain it was in his best interest to activate his transponder, Starl pushed them all out of the room to get their ships ready. Once it was only the three of them, he walked toward Fran and Andy with a grin.
“Why the serious face?” he asked Andy, slapping him on the shoulder. “You still feeling sick?”
“What was all the talk of war about?” Andy said. “This keeps sounding like more than a smuggling run.”
“That was to get them excited,” Starl said, growing serious. “I’m asking a lot of them today to get you off Cruithne. Many of them are going to die, or their people are going to die. The possibility of looting a pr
ivate battle cruiser is a strong incentive, if we can take it—and I think we can—but they need big ideals to help themselves feel important, to feel like they’re part of something more than just a smuggling gang on a shit asteroid in the middle of nowhere. You understand what I mean? How many TSF speeches did you hear before heading in for some worthless operation that might cost your life?”
Thoughts of Brit and Fortress 8221 flashed through Andy’s mind, but he pushed them away.
“I heard you say something about servitude,” Andy said. “Before. When I was almost unconscious. You were trying to talk to the AI.”
Starl narrowed his eyes. He gave Andy a sideways glance. “You say you still can’t hear her, right? She hasn’t made any attempt to communicate with you at all?”
Andy shook his head.
“She was a slave to Heartbridge. That’s all I can say. We’re moving her to freedom. That’s something all of us can understand on Cruithne. This rock has been passed back and forth between Mars and Earth for centuries and now it’s ours. Anyone who comes here has to deal with us. InnerSol, OuterSol, Mars. Terra. Doesn’t matter. No one calls us slave.”
“And that’s enough explanation for you?”
“It is.”
“And now Jickson is dead?”
“He was poisoned by Heartbridge. He knew the cost when he smuggled her as far as he did. He was ready to pay the price and he did. I think that was a good death for him. He’s atoned for his crimes as much as he ever could.”
“What crimes?” Andy asked, angry at Starl’s trickle-truths. “Jickson called her a weaponized AI. What do you know about that? What do you know about where I’m supposed to take her? Neptune? There’s nothing on Neptune but more corporations. Mining drones. Pirates. Death.”
“Like Cruithne,” Starl said, grinning again.
“I don’t know!” Andy shouted, angry now. “I need more information. You’re asking me to take my children and my ship into the dark with only these little crumbs of information. It’s not enough.”
“What if I tell you that’s all I know, but I believe in the cause,” Starl said. “Like I believe in you. Maybe I believe the speech too, Captain Sykes. Maybe all I need to know is that I’m about to play my part in this, get you out of here, and everything will work out after that? What if I tell you that is my hope and all I ask?”
“It’s not good enough. You’re not doing this for ideals. Who’s paying you?”
Starl stared deeply at Andy, his brown eyes hard. For an instant, Andy thought he was going to swing and he readied himself for the attack.
A tick flexed in Starl’s cheek but he didn’t answer the question. If Ngoba Starl was more than a bought pirate for some competing interest with Heartbridge, he wasn’t willing to surrender that knowledge.
“It’s what it is,” Starl spat. “And you agreed to it. We’ve held up our part of the bargain. Your ship is repaired. Your children are safe, not begging in some off-corridor of Cruithne where terrible things happen.” Starl jabbed a finger at Andy’s chest. “It’s time to hold up your end of the deal. I know you’re a man of your word.”
“This wasn’t a choice I made freely,” Andy said.
Starl shrugged. “You made it, yes?”
Andy couldn’t answer. He turned to look out the window at the crusted curve of Cruithne’s ring blotting out stars. He didn’t know what to say. Starl wouldn’t give up his bosses, and Andy had accepted the deal. Misgivings aside, there was no going back at this point.
“Fran is going with you for the initial burn,” Starl said, letting the matter drop. “Once you’re at velocity, she’ll return in a shuttle.” He looked at the technician. “Still a good plan?”
Fran nodded. “Everything’s ready. I don’t expect any issues. I’ll make the final edits on their transponder from here then we’ll go over together. I didn’t want to do it the same day we left, but . . . well, circumstances change.”
“Circumstances change,” Starl said, like a mantra. He took a deep breath, appearing pleased. “Faster than we would have liked, but still coming together. This is all right.”
He held up a hand.
“I understand your frustration, Andy. I do. I have children myself.” He met Andy’s gaze briefly. “I hadn’t told you that. I don’t tell many people. It’s a liability for me and unsafe for them. I trust Fran, here, with my life. She’s always known.”
Andy glanced at Fran. She was watching Starl as if he had actually surprised her.
“Don’t give me that look,” Starl told her. “You could kill me with a loose bolt if you wanted. You think I don’t know it?”
“Ngoba,” she said. “You don’t need to say things like that out loud.”
“It’s the same thing as our mission here,” Starl said. “Trust. Captain Sykes doesn’t know us. He doesn’t trust us. We had him over a barrel when he met us. Why wouldn’t he call everything I say bullshit? I’m glad he does. It means he’s not a complete fool.” He glanced at Andy. “I already told you to come back here and work for me when all this is over. I’ll make you a prince on Cruithne. An excellent life for a man like yourself. Anyway, since he doesn’t trust us, he doesn’t understand that when I say I’ll take care of him and his family, I mean it. Lowspin means something. We make it mean something every day.”
Andy was getting tired of the wall of words. Starl reminded him of his dad when he would wear someone down through force of personality alone. While the plan to get them away from the asteroid wasn’t the best, he couldn’t think of a better way to do it.
Flood the surrounding space with similar ships on wild trajectories, ambush the overwatch element, and pick off any ships that tried to follow. Promise your people the spoils of war. It would be an excellent day for the Lowspin pirates, really.
“I understand,” Andy said finally. “I’m in.”
Starl gave Andy a gracious nod. He turned, slapping the helmet under his arm. “I’ll see you in a few hours,” Starl said. “I have some more details to attend to. My lieutenants have their marching orders but I need to see if I can finally convince Zanda to turn on Heartbridge. That’s the last trick I’d like to pull off today.” He laughed. “These corporate fucks think they can infiltrate my station, take my friend Zanda? They’ll learn a hard lesson.”
He turned toward the door and had only taken a few of his long, sure strides when a concussive rush of air hammered Andy’s ears. He opened his mouth to yell Starl’s name when the door exploded inward, engulfing the King of Lowspin in a roiling ball of black-tinged flame.
Chapter Twenty-Two
STELLAR DATE: 08.27.2981 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: Cantil Housing Project
REGION: Cruithne Station, Terran Hegemony
Andy took aim from behind a park bench and fired a three-round burst into a group of Heartbridge soldiers, just leaving an open corridor on the second level of the apartment complex. One soldier slammed back against the wall, then fell forward over the railing and tumbled into the play structure in the park below.
The two remaining soldiers found cover and returned fire, shattering a bulkhead panel above Andy’s head.
The Lowspin soldier shifted from his position near the apartment door and launched two grenades into the second story balcony. An explosion blew out from the corridor, raining the plas and ceramic facade onto the park below.
Andy waited, scanning the dissipating smoke for movement, then dashed across the open area to slide into position beside Karcher. The soldier gave him a shallow nod, face hidden behind a combat helmet.
Rising to a crouch, Andy activated the apartment door and ran inside. He waited for the portal to close and lock behind him, then shouted, “Cara! Tim! Where are you?”
She shook her head.
Andy slung his rifle and went down the hallway to the bedroom where Cara and Tim had been sleeping. Cara was jamming clothes into a bag while Tim collected his toys.
“Dad!” Cara shouted.
They ran to Andy for a quick hug, then he held them at arm’s length. “Have you got your things? We need to leave now. You’ve got another minute and then we need to get out of here.”
“What’s going on?” Cara asked. “Is that shooting outside?”
“Shooting!” Tim shouted.
“There’s fighting outside. We need to get back to the ship.” Andy checked the room. “Tim, why are all your things still lined up? Where’s your bag?”
“I want to make sure I don’t miss anything. Petral didn’t say we had to pack everything right now. She said we needed to get our things together.”
“That means pack them up,” Cara said. “I told you. You didn’t want to listen.”
Andy recognized the flare of frustration he felt as secondary to the real problems facing them once they left the apartment. This was almost a respite.
“Let me help you, Tim. Where’s your bag?” Over the Link, he asked,
As Tim held his bag open, Andy scooped up his row of space ships and cargo drones and dropped them through the opening onto the crumpled clothing already inside. At the end of the line was a small book he hadn’t seen before.