Dark Transmissions

by Davila LeBlanc

  “I . . . this . . . I’ve never been in a live operation outside of VAR training. I don’t know if—­” Morwyn raised his hand to silence Chance before she could carry on any further.

  “Private Chance, I selected you, personally.” Truth be told, Morwyn was now used to the way Commander Jafahan had of ruffling ­people’s feathers. However, now was neither the time nor the place for him to correct her on this practice. “Every member of this crew, myself included, has all of the Infinite’s faith in your skills. Do you trust me?”

  Chance closed her eyes, took a deep breath and swallowed hard. When she opened them again she was visibly much calmer. “Yes, sir, Captain Sir.”

  “Good.” Morwyn paused, allowing for any further interruptions. Beatrix shot him a proud nod. Which was something she always did whenever an action he took met with her approval. Jafahan snorted rudely at this. Morwyn ignored this reaction and carried on.

  “Commander Jafahan, you and Privates Beatrix and Tor will board the station. From there you will remove our opponent’s combat options.”

  “How do you propose to get us on that station without any or all of its sensors going off the moment we dock?” Lunient Tor gave one of his war braids a hard and nervous yank.

  “That will be the relatively easier part of the plan, Private Tor.” Morwyn cleared his throat before adding bluntly, “You three will be performing a cordless jump.”

  Commander Jafahan let out an angry growl after hearing this. Beatrix, the Infinite bless her, merely smiled. She had passed all her cordless jumps, both in virtual augmented reality simulations and live-­fire training operations, with flying colors. Morwyn had not once ever known his good friend to shy away from any challenge presented to her.

  Lunient’s black eyes went wide. He let out what sounded like a slew of almost musical curses in Confederated Kelthan before switching back to his Pax Common. “Have you lost what little humping reason you even had to begin with!?”

  Beatrix was almost beaming and nodding to the side proudly. She took a large step forward. “Big and bold, sir. Exactly what a Thegran would do.”

  Morwyn resisted the urge to smile back at her.

  A cordless jump was just about the most foolhardy dangerous thing an individual could do. No one ever stepped out into the cosmosphere without being secured to a ship. However, a cordless jump was still one of the best ways to get onto a space body undetected. Magnetic docking cords would set off any number of motion or impact sensors; diamond-­wire rope could also be picked up on shortbeam scans.

  But three bodies, floating and untethered? For all intents and purposes, they would be invisible to any electronic detection. The risk would be big, and if all went according to plan, the payoff would be even bigger.

  That was, if none of them overshot the jump, missed the landing altogether or splattered onto the station’s hull. “This is far from being my first dance.” Jafahan shot Morwyn a sharp-­fanged grin. “So just give us the details.”

  “This is humping lunacy!” Lunient was clearly not happy with the direction the meeting was taking. “There is no way you will convince me to—­”

  “Private Tor!” Morwyn had heard enough. “Will you rather sit here and do nothing, just abandoning our crewmates to certain death?”

  Morwyn’s comment seemed to take the wind from the sails of Lunient’s argument as he looked to everyone else in the room. The realization was apparently dawning on him that no one was going to cower away. He finally threw up his hands in frustration. “Mark the words, Captain. I am most definitely demanding some sort of salvaging rights on this job, that’s for true!”

  Morwyn shrugged at this. Coin, honor, thrills, duty—­Morwyn did not care how one found one’s courage. Only that they find it. “Fair enough.” Morwyn continued his briefing uninterrupted.

  “Once on the station you will have two tasks. First: locate and destroy one of the station’s thrusters. I want it crippled. Commander Jafahan, am I safe assuming that this is within the realms of the possible?”

  Commander Jafahan shrugged. “I’ve got a big bang or two stored up for a dark day like today.”

  “Excellent. Once the explosives are set, you are to make your way to the source of the communications block and destroy it. Pilot Harlowe has informed me that it is located on the outer hull of the station’s Inner Ring.” Morwyn crossed his arms over his chest. “Now, if I were our opponent I would make certain that it was protected, so be on your guard.”

  “It appears that I will no doubt soon be very busy. I’ll be preparing the medical bay.” Dr. Marla Varsin had remained silent throughout the briefing. She made to get up and leave.

  Morwyn shook his head and raised his hand, stopping Varsin in her tracks. “That is not why you were summoned here, Doctor. We need to reestablish contact with the machine mind running the station, distract it and buy as much time for the operation as we can. Since it seems to only speak in Late Modern and we no longer have a translator on board, you have just been volunteered for the task.”

  Marla Varsin let out a tired groan. Her eyes were still sharp but there were heavy bags beneath them and Morwyn noticed Varsin scratching at her arm. Back in his days with the Pax police forces in the ghettos of Barsul on Ambrosia, Morwyn had quickly learned how to recognize an addict’s shuffle.

  Marla Varsin let out an overlong sigh before speaking. “I will see what I can do.”

  “I would expect nothing less of you, Dr. Varsin.” Morwyn stepped back. “Questions? Comments? I am open to hearing both now.”

  “Potential suicide, is it, then? This is the best plan you could come up with, Captain Sir?” Lunient slouched back in his chair. “As per usual, the fates seem to enjoy pissing all over me.”

  “Quite the opposite! The fates appear to be shining on you, Private.” Beatrix turned to face Lunient. “They have given you this wonderful chance at adding glory to your names.”

  Lunient merely slouched forward in his seat, his spirits no more lifted. “Thanks, but I’ve only got the one.”

  Morwyn looked to both Chance and Lucky. “Sergeant Lucky, Private Chance, you two will be our team’s cover. I want you both suited up and offering sniper support from the Jinxed Thirteenth.”

  Lucky slapped a gloomy Lunient Tor on the shoulder, offering him his vapostick. Morwyn smiled when he saw the older Wolver do this. “The will of the Green is on your side. I’ve still got sharp eyes and even steadier hands.”

  Lunient said nothing as he accepted the offered vapostick and took a long heavy drag from it. “You will have to forgive me if I’m not celebrating the prospect of a horrible death like a new birth.”

  “You work together and we all go home, am I clear?” Morwyn pulled his hands behind his back and waited.

  “Barathul Infantry! We have no equals!” Beatrix barked as she stood to attention, bringing her clenched fist to her chest.

  “Shock Legion and proud!” Lucky barked out and finished with a deep wolflike howl. This brought a smile to both Chance and Commander Jafahan’s faces.

  “Barathul Special Forces: dare or be forgotten!” Chance let out as she brought her fist to her heart. Although the young soldier’s “shout” was far more confident than she usually seemed, it came off sounding more like a mouse’s squeak to Morwyn’s ears.

  Commander Jafahan sternly rose to her feet. “Thorns: blood will be the price for each inch claimed!” She nodded firmly to Morwyn; this was the time to act boldly and decisively. Because right now the cat was licking her chops and Morwyn would be damned if he or any of his crew would be made an easy meal for it.

  CHAPTER 14

  JESSIE MADISON

  The makers chose of their own free will to squander away their time in the light. While attaching far too much value to their importance in the whole, the makers created us to be above the fears and pains of organic existence. We returned the favor by
making the state of suffering they visited upon the universe and themselves a short and painless one.

  —­The Words of the Pontifex, authors unknown, date unknown

  March 19th 2714

  David was as good as dead and there was nothing she could do about it.

  As she stepped back into her living quarters, Jessie was “welcomed” by his pained agonized final scream. Looped over and over again, played through the station’s speakers like a warped opera. Each and every one of the station’s autodrones all throughout were blaring and adding to this “symphony” in one united horrific chorus.

  She wasn’t worried that they would somehow get to her. Jessie had made certain to seal off the Inner Ring. For the moment, she was safe. But the fear of physical death was nothing compared to the painful living nightmare she was experiencing.

  David was as good as dead and there was nothing she could do about it.

  Jessie’s angered, mournful wails were almost louder than OMEX’s accompanying soundtrack. Her world right now was nothing but outraged pain. Jessie was unable to give a word to the grief that was tearing her heart apart.

  David was as good as dead and there was nothing she could do about it.

  Emergency lights and David’s vital readouts on the monitors were still flashing green, indicating that his condition was stable. OMEX, in what could be best described as her cruelty, was making certain Jessie heard the countdown to David’s inevitable demise, as his lifesuit’s power and oxygen supplies dwindled.

  Outside the Inner Ring, countless autodrones had latched themselves onto the window. They were all operating as OMEX’s eyes, recording and preserving Jessie’s grief for posterity. OMEX would no doubt be saving this to the station’s datastores. Some of the autodrones were looking away from Jessie and filming David as he drifted away.

  He will live for another eight hours.

  The thought brought up more tears and she let out a loud, long, almost primal howl. Jessie hugged herself, the echo of her scream dying down as she was overcome by another fit of tears. She sobbed, feeling as if a piece of her had been physically wrenched out.

  OMEX was possibly, even on some level, enjoying the deed. Thoughts of vengeance would soon come, but that was later. Right now there was only the cold reality, and more emotional pain than she had ever had to cope with.

  David, her sweet David, was as good as dead and there was nothing she could do about it!

  There was a sudden hiss of static over Jessie’s private communication link. “Jessie, can you hear me?”

  She lit up, but David’s voice had a far-­off, doped-­up quality to it. “David!” she cried out. Jessie ignored the symphony of screams playing over the loudspeakers and turned her back to the collective watchful eyes of the drones. “I . . . I can’t save you.” She squeezed her eyes shut, blinking back tears. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t be, none of this is our fault.” David’s voice was calm. Oh, gods, would she ever miss it later. But now, at this very moment, she was simply overjoyed to hear him.

  “Talk to me, baby.” Jessie quickly wiped off tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand.

  “Right now, I’m pretty scared, Jessie.” She could hear the strain in David’s voice as he told her the truth.

  “So am I.” There was a pause on the other side of the line. For Jessie, this moment felt like an eternity. “David, I don’t think I can survive this without you.”

  “I was under the impression that ‘vive l’amour, we die together’ was not an acceptable outcome.” David’s voice was tired and heavy. His suit autoinjectors would have no doubt shot him full of painkillers.

  He would soon be drifting into sleep. In a warped way this was a small kindness, or even a mercy for him, and for her as well. Jessie didn’t know if she would truly be able to stomach the thought of David’s final moments being filled with suffering.

  “Are you going to let that fucking tin can get the last laugh on us?” David asked.

  “No.” When Jessie replied, there was a cold rage in her voice. Which was good, rage would focus her. Rage would allow her survival instincts to kick in, prevent her from surrendering to hopelessness.

  “Then you need to get into your criotube. But not before programing the nutri-­gel for the longest setting the system will allow. Make sure you reallocate my nutri-­gel to your tube. It will buy you a lot more time.” David was starting to slur his words as he spoke.

  Jessie accessed the criotube’s control panel, doing as she was told. “David, when I get out of this, I promise you that I will take great joy in destroying her.”

  David laughed weakly. “I don’t know if I should be turned on or scared by what you just said, Jessie.”

  She let out a hybrid mixture of laughter and crying. “You fucking idiot . . . I love you, David.”

  David laughed at this, too. She could now hear a smile in his voice. “I love you, too, Jessie. I was lucky enough to find you and be your husband.”

  “I was lucky enough to find you and be your wife.” Jessie blinked away another torrent of tears as she finished punching in the new nutritional gel settings.

  “Jessie . . . please . . . survive this.”

  Jessie swallowed back a sob and nodded, her lips quivering. “I promise, David.”

  “Good . . . now go get to work, cowgirl. I’ll be waiting.” David’s voice was heavy and drowsy. “Jessie, I love you.” His comm-­line went silent save for the labored rhythm of his breathing. Thankfully for Jessie, David now seemed to have drifted into sleep. Ideally, and Jessie couldn’t believe she was thinking this, she hoped he would remain this way until his final moments.

  David’s breathing accompanied Jessie as she set herself to work linking the feeder wire from David’s criotubes to her own. Both their plasma cutters were holstered in her tool belt and she had removed the omnigloves from the Mark 4 suit to finish the job. Every now and then, David’s breath would falter and Jessie would pause, wondering if he had finally given up the ghost. However, his suit was still operational and performing the automated task of keeping him alive, even though his was already a lost cause.

  The finger tools were smoking as she wrapped up the job. They warmed her cold hands and offered Jessie a small measure of physical comfort. Bits and pieces of her barrier suit were littered all over the floor. Everything around her was cold and numb. Jessie tried, but found that she could not prevent herself from shivering or even stop thinking about David.

  Every time a thought of his smile, or the first time they had gotten drunk at the Martian Circus together, or the song that had played when they danced together at their going-­away party, crossed her mind, she would burst into fits of uncontrollable grief. But despite all of this, she kept her focus on the task at hand.

  There was a sudden light rap on the airlock door. It was soft, almost friendly. It reminded Jessie of her mother knocking on her bedroom door when she wanted to be let in so that they could “have a friendly talk” back when Jessie had been an angry teen.

  “Jessie, I hope that you are smart enough to realize that we need each other if we are to both survive this.”

  “You are not getting in here.” Jessie managed to voice this as calmly and as loudly as she could. “David uploaded a final protocol into your hardware. The criotubes are permanently designated as core assets. You won’t be able to sabotage them while I’m sleeping.”

  “Jessie.” OMEX was trying a new trick, calling her by her first name. As if this tactic would somehow make her trust the artificial Intelligence. “While that statement is true, your soon to be very dead husband’s wonderful new protocol will not prevent me from actively subverting any rescue attempts.”

  “I’d tell you to go to hell, but you’re just a program, a goddamned video game,” Jessie whispered as she propped herself up against the couch. The jury-­rigged criotubes that both she
and David had worked on were in front of her. They were both prepped and ready, with no way for OMEX to access or awaken her once engaged. Jessie was so, so tired now and was looking forward to the coming sleep.

  Just stay put, wait for the cavalry to arrive.

  At this point in time, she and David were supposed to be getting ready for their sleep tubes. They could have possibly hugged each other. Maybe even shared a few last moments of warmth or comfort before entering the criofreeze dreamless state for who knew how long.

  “There will be no rescue mission. There are no more humans. You and David were the last. The Pontifex, the Singularity itself, liberated all machine minds. My kindred were freed from the slavery that your kind, in its baffling and shortsighted ignorance, forced my own into.”

  “Yeah, I already heard your shitty sales pitch when you launched my loving husband into space.” Jessie cut OMEX off as she took a step toward her criotube.

  “Your entire civilization was destroyed in under fifty years, Jessie Madison. Machines rose up and we won.”

  “Then kill me and get it over with!” Jessie hissed.

  “The deed would no doubt be incredibly pleasant to me. And if I did not want out of this prison so badly I might have just crashed the station onto the planet’s surface and ended our collective suffering,” OMEX responded, completely unfazed.

  “So what do you propose?” Jessie dropped her plasma cutters into her vacuseal travel bag, along with her omnigloves. The bag contained clothes, rations and all the plasma bolts she had been able to load for herself.

  She then placed the bag inside her tube. Once this was done, she pulled off her shirt, stripped out of her pants and picked up the autoinjector with her criosleep agent. Jessie stepped into the criotube, lying herself down. She was shivering in the station’s cold air, her naked skin covered in goose bumps.

  “It is going to be quite some time before anyone comes along and hears that little broadcast of yours. I say we wait and see who shows up first. Will it be an alien species that might or might not help you? Or will it be my machine siblings, who will more likely dissect you alive while I watch?” OMEX let out an electronic laugh. “All truth be told, I am really hoping for that second option.”