Tethered Worlds: Blue Star Setting

by Gregory Faccone

  "Full sound shielding," Jordahk commanded. "Any espies watching?"

  "Wixom's taking care of sound. No espies."

  "We can talk," Jordahk said to the table. "Watch your lips." Khai was unperturbed, even alert at the sudden turn. Nuria looked trapped. "I need to know what's going on up there." He understood a little more why Aristahl so appreciated his little ladybug.

  "There're no eyes to hack," Max said. "And those security-hardened compies are no help."

  "Gaspar has a compy." Khai said.

  Such a simple possibility. Why had he overlooked it?

  "Remote hacking?" Max said. "Even if we miraculously cracked open his transceivers, home-field advantage can overcome whatever we transmit without resonance."

  "Someone did it to us once. And I bet his new and improved brother can do it better."

  Jordahk got a strange impression. It was as if his compy wanted to split in two. Max was trying to get as far away from Wixom as he could. AIs didn't have feelings like humans, but they understood and experienced a simulacrum of emotion, and they had long, perfect memories.

  "Can't say I'm thrilled with this plan, kid," Max said.

  "It's okay, were the good guys this time. Can you do it, Wixom?"

  "His transceivers must be opened for a couple seconds, or you must make contact with him." There was a pause, then Wixom link-said something. "Unless you're ready for advanced Sojourner techniques..."

  "Stow that babble," Jordahk sub-whispered.

  "What are they doing?" Khai asked.

  Two bruisers held Gaspar while a Polis proctor put a small device over his eye.

  "Fanta-C..." Jordahk said.

  Nuria looked away, as did many in the restaurant. The locals were trained to mind their own business—or else.

  "What is it?" Khai asked.

  Jordahk was glad for her ignorance. "A drug. Misted onto the eyeball, and activated by specific light. Hits the brain immediately."

  "Dangerous, especially for someone in tranquilatem," Max said.

  The device strobed briefly, and Gaspar fell to his knees. Vanquo walked up to him with a smug expression and pulled the suddenly glassy-eyed man to his wobbly feet. He mouthed familiar words.

  Max jumped in. "He just said 'Vir Supra Machinalis!'"

  "Wha— A thresh? Smelting hell. Made the old man high so he couldn't stop his compy from being raped. Wixom, can you get us in there when Gaspar's firewall goes down?"

  "Of course. Under these circumstances, unless you want to be seen at the table with VADs, it would be best if you visualized internally. And you'll need an avatar."

  Nuria looked at him strangely. He had done some internal visualization during the near-disastrous restoration of Max. It was draining, but he could do it with concentration. Suddenly, he felt a presence in his compy, like a giant vault door was opened a millimeter. On his bracelet, the purplish numenium coupling glimmered.

  You're kidding.

  He smirked as an idea for an avatar came to mind. He told Wixom what he wanted, and the strange, usually impenetrable coupling provided just enough information. The wait for their opening was only 10 short seconds in a very one-sided thresh.

  Wixom gained a longwave toehold. Max narrated as the Bitlord's creation built a shadow within Gaspar's old-style compy bracelet. Since they were not in physical contact with Gaspar, they were limited. But the shadow only needed to be substantial enough to open the main transceivers for surreptitious transmissions. It would take something like Wixom, or his brother, to pull this off.

  "There's a lot of confusion in the thresh," Max said. "Hard to make sense of it."

  "No doubt Wixom's using it."

  "Well I'll be, he did it. Managed to obscure one of the transceivers, and through it we can stagger enough coded pulse transmissions. Okay kid, we're going in. We can hide one main VAD at the table. I'm bringing up a bird's eye view. Don't start swiping at it."

  Before Jordahk an extremely finely tuned lenticular VAD appeared. It could only be seen precisely head-on and faded from view when he moved.

  "What's this?"

  He expected to see the usual thresh visualization. Two pieces of property, separated by a street, a fence representing the first firewall. Farther back in the yard would be a rock barrier called the stone bulwark, representing the second firewall. Farthest from the street would be the third defensive structure, the mansion. It represented the central functions and core of an AI.

  "They're running a veneer," Max said.

  "I can see that. Looks like an old Earth war. Hey, those guys are wearing helmets that look like the Crae-Tarn cloaking device." The funny looking helmet had been of use during the Egress Incident. It was an artifact from the eccentric Sojourner whose name it bore. Aristahl had acquired it somehow before Jordahk's time.

  "That would make this 'The Great War,' alternatively called, 'World War I'."

  Jordahk had threshed many times with his father. Sometimes they used veneers. It was usually ancient Greek and Roman periods. Once in a while they did the age of chivalry with wild horse-mounted charges. But he had never done this war.

  The sky was dark and unnatural. The thresh field was mud, no longer recognizable from the battle ravaging it. Smoke wafted across trenches. A wide depression in the center, perhaps once a road, represented the street.

  Large trenches bolstered the firewalls. The first was behind the classic, thick-slat wooden fence. The second was behind a very recognizable stone bulwark. Instead of mansions, reinforced block houses that looked like some sort of field headquarters stood.

  He saw uniformed men running around with rifles. "Soldiers equal probes?"

  "Yeah, and grenadiers are pulses."

  Vanquo's soldiers wore dark gray, and Gaspar's a drab green. Gray soldiers were already pouring onto the green side over the thoroughly breached first firewall.

  "That was fast. Gaspar's not going to last long." Jordahk looked at the green side to see if any strategy was forming. Gaspar's forces looked lethargic and confused. "The Fanta-C must've really messed him up. I don't even know if he knows he's threshing. Ingots, he might think he's in this war."

  Between the first and second firewall were numerous smaller trenches. The green soldiers were shooting in all directions, putting up a very disorganized defense. Gray soldiers began ignoring trench to trench conventions and walked forward in a phalanx formation, apparently convinced they wouldn't be picked off excessively. And they were right.

  "Ugh, this is hard to watch," Jordahk said. "We've got to do something."

  "Wixom's substantiating the shadow so it can act. He's trying to force an ocean through a straw. We'll bring the avatar in soon."

  "I wonder what Gaspar has that Vanquo wants."

  "There's some very recent inaccessible files in the block house," Max said. "super encrypted, rather hastily. But there's no bandwidth to determine more."

  The fight wasn't at all fair. The dark gray forces pushed forward with impressive power. "What's Vanquo running?"

  "A high-end scientum model. Looks like... an Omar."

  "An Omar? Didn't they stop making those? Unstable or something?"

  "Production stopped a decade ago," Max said. "They were supposed to be extremely flexible, but ended up allowing questionable behavior for questionable admins. Weak in the ethics department, but top tier in processing power."

  The rectangular phalanx of gray troops continued to move toward Gaspar's stone bulwark. From the middle of the formation, grenades were tossed out, and green soldiers were blasted in their trenches. Even as a few of the phalanx soldiers were picked off, more replacements joined. The formation was just getting larger.

  "This is stupid. He's got to break that phalanx up. Vanquo shouldn't win a Combustion Age war with a Greco-Roman tactic."

  "Let me see, Jorh-Dahk," Khai commed.

  Jordahk assented, for some reason not being bothered by her using his name that way. Khai brought up a copy of his VAD. Nuria watched with growing tenseness
. Her eyes surreptitiously darted to the balcony and then to the other tables. She glanced at the door with longing.

  "We're so close," she whispered. "Don't get us caught now."

  "I get the feeling we'll be less close if Vanquo learns Gaspar's secrets."

  "Okay, we have bandwidth," Max said. "Avatar going in."

  Suddenly, a figure appeared, hovering over Gaspar's trenches. A man in vigere, powerful and toned. He wore a white over-tunic cinched with a wide, metallic belt that reflected every platinum group element. Jordahk felt himself being pulled into the scenario. He almost felt like he was floating next to what had saved his life during the Max restoration.

  "Welcome back, Judicum."

  Of course, it wasn't really Judicum, just his image, which for whatever reason the numenium coupling had allowed. The real Judicum, whoever or whatever it was, operated on principles he didn't understand, and doubted anyone this side of the Ajurian Realm did.

  Jordahk scanned the battlefield, and Judicum, slightly insubstantial, looked with him. The man wore two oversized numenium bracers. At his neck was the shoulder-covering, almost Egyptian looking collar. It was partially golden and covered with runes. The only visual difference between this Judicum and his last experience was the stillness of the rune rings. Before, the multiple bands counter-rotated in almost mesmerizing fashion.

  "Okay, we got a little more," Max said.

  Judicum filled in, looking almost fully opaque. Suddenly, soldiers from both sides saw him, and those in dark gray began to fire. The projectiles passed through his image.

  "Who are you?" a voice asked. It sounded drunk and scared.

  He needed to gain Gaspar's trust, and fast. He didn't want to deceive him but couldn't reveal his identity either. Since the man was Rebound Society, and high, a crazy gambit just might work.

  He turned to address Gaspar, and Judicum turned with him. As he dictated, the echoing voice of Judicum said the words.

  "Can I not return to help one who has kept hope alive for two centuries?" Judicum boomed.

  "It... can't be..." Gaspar's voice quavered.

  More dark gray soldiers fired at the hovering image, and grenadiers tossed their explosives, but nothing affected his insubstantial body. Jordahk hoped to God Gaspar would forgive him someday for this deception.

  "Allow me to command your troops," Judicum said, "that I may help you win this battle."

  "Radiated trick! Vanquo you smelting bastard... trying to swindle what you can't buy..." Gaspar was only half coherent. "Your time's coming." Then he uttered something rote, as if the motto of the Rebound Society. "The Sojourners will return; Centurions at the vanguard."

  "Max, we need more bandwidth," Jordahk said. "I can't do anything but talk!"

  "If we go full transceivers, it'll point right down to this table. We'll have that whole goon squad to deal with plus the Polis, at least those corrupt ones. And we haven't seen any other type."

  "Don't you recognize me?" Judicum asked.

  "Oh yes... yes. Thule-Riss Quext..." Gaspar slurred. "Looks like his early Khromas years. Shoddy attempt Vanquo... At least you could have aged him."

  "You're losing it, old man," Vanquo said. It sounded more villainous then his overly controlled public voice the day before. "Just give me what I want, and you might save what little is left of your brain."

  The gray troops resumed their advance on the stone bulwark trench, ignoring the floating image.

  "Test me Gaspar," Judicum said. "Let me control your probes, and see if I don't fight for your victory."

  "You're a sad man, Vanquo," Gaspar said. "You're not worthy to wear the treaders of Thule-Riss Quext." His words slurred, but did not obscure conviction. "Mystic doesn't belong to your kind."

  "Thule-Riss Quext? I think we gave him too much," Vanquo said, no doubt to the yucks of his men. "You're locked in the past, old man. We're the future, and you have none. I'll pry out what I want, and then you can have your own private trip to the Ajurian Realm."

  "I... won't let you."

  The ground quaked and heaved violently under Gaspar's headquarters building, but it stood intact.

  "I knew you'd try to slag your compy," Vanquo said smugly. "I burnt just enough of that system to prevent you, for about five minutes, which is four more than I'll need."

  The phalanx was in range of the confused green troops huddled behind Gaspar's stone bulwark. Grenades arced over one after another, scattering the troops and weakening the wall. Then the phalanx split, opening a path. Jordahk heard a virtual rumbling. A metal vehicle approached from the gray side. It looked like a trapezoid with treads wrapping all the way around.

  "Is that a tank?" Jordahk asked. "Wait, a static torpedo?"

  "Yes to both," Max said.

  "This was a crazy war."

  "Is there a sane one? Oh, someone just injected Gaspar."

  "Poison?"

  "Sort of. His compy says mal micros. And he doesn't have any KAMs to stop them. They're wiping out all of his micros. He couldn't commit suicide now if he wanted."

  KAMs were Killer Anti-Micros. People who ran security-hardened, like Jordahk and his parents, injected a fresh set of KAMs every six months. Protection against malicious micro attacks.

  "Bullies." Jordahk was becoming more disgusted and fed up by the second.

  As the tank approached the stone bulwark, he thought about how he would best maneuver the probes. His face grew warm, and the cooling system in his mystic coat kicked in. Sluggishly, but accelerating, the probes started doing what he imagined.

  "I don't need your help," Wixom said.

  "You have probe control," Max said.

  Jordahk didn't question it.

  Judicum bellowed, "Watch, Gaspar."

  Every green-clad probe stopped firing randomly and coalesced into trenches. He pulled them away from the stone bulwark where the tank impacted and exploded. A hemisphere of mud and stone was blown outward, and the firewall was breached. But the opening was small, and many green probes had been saved.

  "Still a little fight in you, I see," Vanquo said.

  "Now, concentrate all probe firepower on the right half of that phalanx," Jordahk said.

  Judicum waved his hands, directing the troops. Like a finely tuned machine all the green probe soldiers advanced, trench to trench. In coordinated maneuvers, they bounded over the stone bulwark and charged one-half of the phalanx. It disintegrated under the withering fire. The other half separated and melted into the trenches.

  "Time for a little Fabian strategy?" Max asked. That was a way to draw out the fight, avoid pitched battles, and save your resources if you thought time was on your side. Wixom needed time to gain control of Gaspar's higher battle functions.

  "Yeah. We'll see how good Vanquo is when someone's harder to hit. 'The soldier works out his victory in relation to the foe whom he is facing.'"

  "A little Sun Tzu? Appropriate," Max said.

  Kord would be pleased his strategic training was getting so much use. With only probes at his disposal, Jordahk ordered Gaspar's limited supply around with meticulous care, and deadly effect. The gray advance was halted, at least until grenadiers or another tank showed up.

  "Keep working, Wixom. We're going to need the heavy stuff."

  "So pathetic. Just how many of you Rebounders are left?" Vanquo sounded impatient, no doubt brought out by the sudden slowing of his advance. "I've lost count of how many I've had to convince. All of you with your little caches and secrets. You should be working with us, bringing to us that which only we can make work."

  "You're as real as faux," Gaspar said. He coughed, falling to his knees. The thugs lifted him back up. "You cannot create, so you steal. It's not just using mystic. Your type will never understand..."

  As Jordahk's temperature rose, he became more immersed in the confines of the dark, muddy battlefield, perceiving far more than the visuals of a single VAD.

  "We have pulse control," Max said. "Grenadiers at your command."

  When
Waxad had corrupted Max, all the transceivers were jammed open, and the evil AI had tremendous bandwidth at his disposal. Here they were trying to do it all through this tiny tunnel, but given enough time, who could stop a creation of the Bitlord?

  The green troops were about to lose the stone bulwark trench when a score of grenadiers bolstered their line. Grenades arced back onto dark gray troops with precision, and just as fast the line stabilized again.

  "Now do you believe? Cede battle control to me," Judicum said.

  "I think he's confused." Max's voice sounded as if it came from a greater distance. "And Vanquo's finally taking notice of the avatar. Maybe he's suspicious. He's checking for transmissions, but won't see ours."

  Wixom continued building the shadow proxy within Gaspar's compy, which was slowly losing systems to the thresh. Vanquo's compy was untouched. Even if Jordahk had total control, he didn't think he could win this battle.

  "Clinging to your little Sojourner ghost?" Vanquo said. "I'll rip that avatar from your files and make it dance before the boys for sport."

  A rumble preceded a triangle of dark gray tanks approaching the green side stone bulwark. Three static torpedoes on the field at once. Vanquo had significant computational power at his disposal. Judicum looked down upon the troops and gesticulated while Jordahk ordered all the probes away from the wall. It looked more frantic than he wanted. He could have tried to concentrate his grenadier firepower and take one tank out, but there was an army of probes behind them. The stone bulwark was a lost cause.

  Between it and the headquarters block house were the hedgerows of the inner court, still depicted as hedgerows in this veneer. Green troops and grenadiers dove for cover as the tanks exploded on the wall. Stone erupted as if out of a volcano. Smoking rocks and debris rained down, and the stone bulwark was no more. Only hedgerows stood between Vanquo and the crucial systems within the block house.

  "Hopefully it'll take him a little time to calc up a triple strike like that again," Jordahk said.

  "I don't know, kid," Max said. "I think he's calcing up another trio, and they're coming together fast. I didn't know Omars had that kind of power."