by CJ Williams
Then she found it, almost undetectable amongst the engineering modules, an intelligence brighter than the rest. Its name was HPV12.
Carrie sent a simple command. HPV12, shut down your engines.
The reply came back quickly. Acknowledged.
“I told it to shut down its engines,” Carrie told Sadie. “Did it work?”
“I confirm that,” Sadie replied. “We can begin descent if you like.”
“Let’s go. I don’t want to—”
“Warning!” Sadie’s exclamation cut her off. “The power of their tractor beam just increased several hundred percent.” A note of worry crept into Sadie’s voice. “I am unable to break free.”
A deep hum filled the yacht. It was an unfamiliar sound. “What’s that noise?” Carrie asked. “Is it you or the…”
“Applying maximum power to engines,” Sadie said. “We’re actually towing the enemy craft but it is still reeling us in.”
Carrie contacted the vessel a second time. HPV12, turn off your tractor beam.
There was no response from the AI. Instead, an enormous door opened in the side of dreadnaught and dozens of one-man fighters emerged, their AIs broadcasting loudly. It swamped Carrie’s ability to reach through to the heavy patrol vessel AI.
“I can’t tell who’s who,” Carrie said.
“A clever defense,” Sadie acknowledged. “These warcraft have developed effective tactics against competing Families.”zztop
The fighters swarmed around Carrie and her yacht and opened fire against her shields. She felt an occasional thunk against the hull but otherwise her yacht seemed undamaged.
Sadie explained. “They are using solid projectiles. Our shields are handling most of it, but we can’t hold out forever. I’m concerned about what they would do if we actually land in their hangar. I presume you do not wish to yield at this time?”
“Absolutely not!” Carrie replied emphatically. “Our goal is observation, not combat.”
“I understand your wish to avoid violence, but we must counterattack. If one of those projectiles penetrates one of my engine casings you will not survive.”
Frustration seeped into Carrie’s thoughts. This was not what she wanted. Her expectation of covert operations was that it was a non-violent exercise; obviously a naive concept.
She examined the wide superstructure above the main hull. Sadie was correct. The dreadnaught did look like a container ship. The top was broad and flat with dozens of covered hatches and exposed piping. Multiple gun turrets were mounted along the edges, protecting the vessel from all angles. The bridge superstructure, built atop a vertical raised island, extended side to side. Long slanted windows gave the command crew an unobstructed view of space on both sides of the warcraft.
Carrie sensed the presence of the admiral that had spoken to her. He was surrounded by other officers and she could not establish a definitive connection to the admiral himself, just a general concern that her tiny ship was proving to be so difficult.
“I assume their shields are up?” Carrie inquired.
“Correct,” Sadie replied.
“Very well. Then target your disrupters on the shielding near the bridge. Follow that with a single round from your chin gun through the middle navigation window.”
A streak of lightening burst from the disrupter mounted on the top of Sadie’s fuselage. Where it touched the enemy’s shields, sheets of incandescent fire lit up the space in front of the bridge. A tiny flash erupted from Sadie’s nose.
The center window of the bridge shattered and atmosphere vented in a cloud of mist. Carrie cringed when a body shot out of the opening and spun away. Blast doors suddenly slammed down, covering all the window openings.
“Send this message,” Carrie said. “Admiral, I warned you not to toy with me. The next shot will be for real.”
The display changed to the incoming message. The admiral’s distinguished visage was gone. Instead he leaned forward towards the camera, his feral eyes showing white all around the iris. A trickle of blood oozed from a tiny scratch on his cheek.
“You will pay for that!” he spat. “As will your family.” He turned away and shouted commands.
Every gun mounting on the enemy hull swiveled to aim at Sadie and opened fire. The thunder of explosive rain against her front shields was too bright to look at. Sadie darkened the canopy to reduce the glare.
“Use our main blasters,” Carrie said resignedly. “Take out the bridge and if that doesn’t release the tractor beam, then destroy the ship.”
Sadie’s first two rounds obliterated the bridge where it was mounted to the main superstructure.
“Tractor beam still operational,” she reported. “Targeting the dreadnaught’s main hull.” Six more shots along the fuselage ignited something inside and the ship exploded. The bow and stern sections were blown clear of the main fireball and gyrated away crazily, leaving a trail of flaming debris and twisted metal.
Carrie closed her eyes and turned away. She pushed aside the question of how many men had just died.
Sadie spoke up. “The fighters are falling back but other ships are approaching. To avoid further confrontation, I suggest we simply disappear. Mr. Stevens’ recent upgrades include a new secondary shielding with stealth capability. It doesn’t offer much in the way of protection, but it’s effective at cloaking the visible and electromagnetic wavelengths. I feel certain it is beyond the technology of those remaining.”
“Do it,” Carrie said.
Sadie pointed her nose away from the planet. On the viewscreen, the expanding fireball diminished rapidly in size. Carrie breathed a sigh of relief when the remaining vessels showed no interest in chase.
“Stealth shielding on,” Sadie said. “They can’t see us now. I’m going to loop around and approach Japurnam Five from another direction. While the blockading force sorts out what happened, we’ll penetrate the atmosphere on the night side of the planet.”
“What do you make of all that?” Carrie asked. “Why such a violent reaction to our presence?”
“Hard to say. But I’m more concerned with the news that King Peyha has passed away. That is a great loss to our galaxy. His wisdom enabled a balance that kept humanity at peace for over a thousand years. If he has indeed left us, it heralds a dangerous period. The Nobility has never had a change of ruling family in our history. Let us hope that Princess Gimi survives and can offer us guidance.”
“That’s more essential now than ever,” Carrie agreed. “For one thing, any royal drama takes us away from our goal. I want to focus on the Bakkui, not fight with local militia. And I’m really not interested in getting caught up in office politics.”
“I understand,” Sadie said. “But my archives have references that are tens of thousands of years old, and the sight of that military dreadnaught is not reassuring. If this office politics, as you so blithely put it, results in open warfare between families, the impact could even reach your own home planet.”
Sadie’s words sent a cold chill through Carrie. It didn’t seem fair that problems here, near the center of the galaxy, should affect her father’s farm so far away. Tell that to the Ninety-Nines, she thought, hating the reminder of her terrible sin.
*.*.*.*
The night side of the planet grew larger as Sadie approached. They descended at slow speed in case observers were watching for atmospheric disturbance. No sense in leaving a trail of flame across the sky.
Sadie filled Carrie in on her coordination with the local management. “The port authority has a hangar available so we can park out of sight. That doesn’t mean the blockading forces won’t know that we’re here. There are always spies. I incorporated a personal force field into your clothing, but please be careful as you go out in public. I am sending you directions to the Gimi Foundation right now.”
The knowledge appeared in Carrie’s mind. She had asked Sadie to teach her how to project information like that, but although the AI tried, it wasn’t soaking in.
S
adie explained. “Those techniques are normally taught by a childhood tutor. I’m not sure why I’m not making it clear. Once we get settled, I’ll arrange for someone to instruct you. In the meantime, I have also opened a bank account under your name and linked it to the royal ledger. Essentially, while on this planet you have unlimited funds.”
In spite of knowing the AI for a long time, Carrie was continually impressed with Sadie’s abilities.
“How do I spend money?” Carrie asked.
“Use the planetary AI,” Sadie said. “The AI’s name is simply a number designation, and it does not have a personality like you are used to. Tell it you wish to pay for this or that and it will happen.”
The designation, JF307, appeared in Carrie’s mind. “Is that what everyone does?”
“It varies. Most of the populace use cash for day-to-day transactions. On Japurnam Five they use a coined currency. I included some in your handbag. For reference, you may consider that a single blue coin is your equivalent to twenty dollars. Copper coins are equal to a hundred dollars and gold are about five hundred. The gold ones are rare so you shouldn’t wave them around.”
Carrie pulled out one of the metallic wafers. It was thin, and more like a poker chip than a coin. She hefted the purse a few times. “These are pretty heavy,” she observed. “Why don’t people use the AI? It would be a lot easier than lugging around a bag of coins.”
“Within the Nobility, AIs are tools of royalty and the very rich. As a result, common folk look at them with reservation. On your planet, it would be called the Big Brother concept. Everyone is afraid of the government spying on their private affairs.”
“Too bad,” Carrie said. “On Moonbase we use George in every aspect of our lives. It’s second nature.”
“True, but the Commander managed to create an idyllic society that is rare in this galaxy.”
“That’s what I mean,” Carrie argued. “George helps so much with everything we do. I would say that’s what having an implant is all about.”
“I know,” Sadie agreed. “But here, most commoners only use implants for their health. Unlike your own culture, medicine within the Nobility’s empire is not a highly valued career field.”
“So no one is proficient with implant technology?” Carrie was surprised the population didn’t use the device.
“Not at all,” Sadie said. “Those who wish to become a part of the government’s bureaucracy often work hard to master the more advanced capabilities of their implants. Such dedication often leads to promotion and other advantages.”
Carrie wanted to give it a try. She reached out for the planetary AI. Respond, JF307, do you hear me?
Affirmative, a monotone reply answered instantly. How may I serve you, Mistress?
Nothing at this time, Carrie answered.
The process of communicating with JF307 was simple. It was like using her mind to speak to a robot. She commented on the fact, but Sadie cautioned her.
“Don’t assume that because there is no personality, it is stupid. These AIs are every bit as capable as the ones you’ve been dealing with. Remember that within the Nobility, AI technology has been in existence for centuries; the experience is mundane. It’s easier to dash off an order than engage in polite conversation.”
“I feel like a bumpkin,” Carrie complained. “Like I’m a country girl visiting the big city for the first time. Everyone is going to notice my mistakes.”
“I doubt it. Your dress and your bearing identify you as a member of the royal household. You may feel a mental probe from time to time. That is from those who are more capable with their implant devices. Don’t worry about it. With your level, you can easily block such inquiries. You will find that a polite block becomes an automatic response. It may take a little practice but you shouldn’t worry. We will include that task for your tutor as it is apparent it’s not something I can teach you myself. You need to interact but be careful of sharing too much.”
Carrie was starting to feel the stress of launching herself into such a complicated culture with no training. It was never a problem when she worked for the Commander. You orbited into a new star system, told the local population who you were, and people fell into line. But working on Japurnam Five would be an entirely different ballgame. She tried to calm the butterflies in her stomach.
The spaceport came into view as pre-dawn light crept across the sky. The massive tarmac was a deserted area. “The blockade is hurting business,” Carrie guessed.
“Indeed,” Sadie said. “There is our hangar.”
The structure looked like any other aircraft hangar Carrie might have seen on Earth, but this one was much bigger. Massive sliding doors moved outward from the center, exposing a cavernous, dimly lit interior that was empty of aircraft. A small delegation was waiting to one side.
“Those are the Port Authority personnel,” Sadie explained. “They are required to inspect my interior and you have to pay the necessary rental fees. I suggest you start with one week and we can see how it goes. I suspect we’ll only be here a day or two, unless the princess decides she likes you. I’m concerned that I’m getting no response from the Gimi Foundation AI.”
“Is the princess even alive?” Carrie wondered aloud.
“If not, that could be bad news. If there was a purge by a competing family, we could find ourselves without any allies. Speaking of which, let me remind you once again, my presence, as a level-one intelligence must be kept private from all but the princess, and your origin should remain confidential as well.”
“So what am I exactly?” Carrie asked.
“It is not unheard of to see a retainer running errands for the royal family. That is your cover and I can vouch for you if necessary. For now, do your utmost to hide your outlander status. Otherwise, even our allies may turn out to be enemies.”
“Thanks for the pep talk,” Carrie said dourly.
“I just want you to be careful,” Sadie replied encouragingly. The cargo bay door opened. “Now go pay the rent.”
Carrie slung a modest duffel over her shoulder and stepped out of the yacht. Two men and a woman approached the spacecraft. One man bore a badge of insignia on his uniform, but appeared subservient to the older gentleman who took charge.
“Greetings, Mistress Faulkner. I am Tolliver. This is Customs Agent Bandag and this is my secretary.” Tolliver bowed minutely.
Carrie returned his bow, matching the angle precisely. “Good morning, Tolliver. Thank you for receiving me and I apologize for the early hour.”
“That is not your fault,” Tolliver replied grimly. “These pretenders who blockade our planet are not military. They are no better than pirates. But I digress. Welcome to our world. With your permission, Agent Bandag will complete his inspection.”
“Of course.”
There wasn’t a lot to inspect. In spite of the relatively spartan interior, Bandag’s expression said he was delighted to see such a magnificent craft. Carrie waited with Tolliver outside the shuttle while Bandag entered, exclaiming pleasure with this and that.
“How long will you be staying?” Tolliver asked.
“I am not sure, but let us start with seven days.”
Tolliver turned to his secretary, who scribbled on a tablet and handed it to her boss. He examined the screen and offered it to Carrie. As she looked at the display, the characters swam before her eyes while her implant translated the information.
Tolliver pointed at a block near the bottom. “The total amount is there.”
“Of course,” Carrie responded. The glyphs coalesced into a legible script and she read the total amount. JF307, please pay the Port Authority as indicated. Carrie mentally crossed her fingers.
A blue check mark appeared on the tablet’s screen and the balance due changed to zero. Tolliver let out a sigh of relief. Carrie felt a momentary pity for the port director. Clearly times were tough.
Bandag emerged from the shuttle and nodded briefly at Tolliver. He was satisfied.
“Is there anything else we may assist you with?” Tolliver inquired.
“I could use ground transportation for my business today,” Carrie said.
“Of course.” Tolliver glanced at his secretary who turned her back while speaking to her tablet. Seconds later, she gestured to the back door of the hangar. Tolliver explained, “Our limousine is at your service during your stay.” He walked with her to the door and got her settled into the coach before leaving with his companions.
Sadie, are you okay? Carrie asked.
My perimeter security has been established. Don’t worry about me, go find the princess.
There was no driver so Carrie spoke the address aloud. The coach moved forward and she settled back. The sun had not quite risen above the horizon. She wondered what time the Gimi Foundation opened for business. A half hour later, the sun had just peeked over the distant mountains when the limo pulled up in front of a nondescript office building. No one was about and it was clearly too early for business.
The place looked a bit rundown but Carrie could imagine that at one point it had been a substantial addition to the neighborhood.
JF307, I need lodging.
A location appeared in her mind. It was across the street and a hundred yards down. She twisted in her seat and spotted the inn. From her vantage point it looked similar in quality to a Motel Six.
JF307, I prefer something nicer.
Understood, the AI responded.
A new destination appeared. Carrie gave the new address to the driverless vehicle. In the morning light, she got a clearer impression of the bustling metropolitan area. Street vendors sprouted between modern buildings. Panel vans were making early morning deliveries. Shop owners were opening doors and setting out their wares. Ten minutes later, the limo pulled up in front of a much nicer establishment. Carrie rated it the equivalent of a Marriott. Good enough for a royal retainer.
Inside was a registration desk. A bright young man stood at attention when she approached.
“I’d like a room please.”