The militia had some trouble rounding up the last of the dead A.I’s minions. They wouldn’t surrender or listen to any reasonable requests, but that task was almost complete. Of the twelve people, the rogue A.I. left in the woods, only seven were brought in alive.
The police still had their hands full helping the city recover from having all of its services shut off. Some opportunistic looting had occurred, and there were still roads that remained blocked by vehicles that would need to be removed.
The Sarasina Memorial Hospital was the most devastated during the night. All of its emergency room medical pods were beyond local repair. They had five dead guards and another seven dead medical staff and patients. To this was added the nineteen people the rogue A.I. had tried to force into service before it had been shut down.
One report that Kevin found amusing was the bill that some hospital pen pusher tried to submit to the Guild for damages to its cameras.
The Guild replied that the cameras didn’t belong to the hospital when they were damaged. But since a Guild member was responsible for the return of the hospital as a whole, they could send the hospital administration a bill for its value, if they wanted to get in a fight over a few cameras.
They were promptly informed that the bill was a mistake, an internal accounting error, and thanks for the prompt support in helping their guards with reestablishing control of the hospital.
Kevin laughed at the whole exchange, even at the small greedy part of himself that wondered just how much a slightly abused hospital sold for.
Kevin was glad to hear that most of the loose threads from his last mission were being taken care of.
The only things that really bothered him were thoughts of the victims and figuring out what would be a fair way to deal with Ash, the guard who helped him in the hospital.
For the night, he decided to get some sleep and sort out his worries tomorrow. Samantha was as helpful as ever in helping him relax from his stress.
After a nice hot bath, massage, and some furry play with her cat-eared form, Kevin slipped into a dreamless sleep.
***
By the next day, Thursday morning, Kevin was back on his early morning schedule. After the morning exercises, he decided that there were a few things he needed to clear up.
“Samantha, can you see if Gordon is available?” asked Kevin.
Gordon: Hey bud, what’s up, have you learned how to fly your ship yet?
Kevin: Knew how to fly weeks ago, but I’m scheduled to take a flight test next Monday, but that’s just to fly around in system. After that, there’s another test to become hyperspace qualified, which is mostly understanding Hyper-Spacial Flight Mathematics and Mechanics.
Gordon: Better you then, you were always the math geek. So why did ya message me?
Kevin: Well, I’m starting to put together a crew for my ship, and wanted to know if you wanted to be a part of it.
Gordon: Hmm, see that the thing. We’ve been friends and sometimes partners on missions, but it’s ‘your ship’ and ‘your crew’. See I’m not playing in Omnia just to be someone’s underling, so I’m going to have to turn you down, my friend.
Kevin had mixed feelings, he wanted his friend with him but felt relieved that he wouldn’t be there too.
Kevin: Actually, I think I understand more than you suspect. In Omnia, the sky is not the limit, so why should we limit ourselves. Listen bud, let me know if you ever need some help, you might not be on my team, but I still consider you a friend and ally.
Gordon: Cool, glad you get it. Yeah me too, I’ll be there if you need a hand, from a partner, not an employee. In the meantime, we can help each other with understanding how to make our way in the galaxy.
Kevin: Speaking of which, have you heard of the changes coming down limiting our time in the virtual homes?
Gordon: Yep, some people wimped out when they couldn’t figure out how to make their own way in Omnia. I heard of a few who just camp full time in their virtual home playing with their A.I.. Apparently, Intelecom wasn’t happy about it, so they're changing the system. So soon, it will be play or give up the pod. Which you know won’t happen since it’s the first time some of these nerds had sex, there’s no way they’re going to give up their playmates now.
Kevin: Well, I’m starting to think of it as a win, since it will allow me to train a crew with the benefits of a gold account training room.
Gordon: Sure, if you can afford the creds for renting a training room. Didn’t you say something about running low on funds?
Kevin: Yep, but I just finished a big job that should pay out something over 12k credits. But you’re right; it will be one more drain on the credits, that and having to take more meals in Omnia.
Gordon: Yeah, I heard some players are planning to arrange their time to allow them to still get free meals in their virtual home. What was it, four hours a day? That’s plenty of time to eat, so no one’s going to be starving.
Kevin: Well I still have a shit ton of stuff to wrap up after yesterday’s job, so I got to go. Thanks for giving me your answer; it’ll help to know what I can do for crew.
Gordon: Cool man, Later.
“Samantha, I was thinking of Ash, the guard who helped us out in the hospital. He seemed like a steady sort of man. Do you think he might make a valuable addition to the crew… That is if he’s willing to leave his exciting life as a security guard,” asked Kevin.
“It would be hard to know what a man want’s, but if he wanted to be something else, why is he a guard.” asked Samantha.
“Can you look through the local records and find out what you can? If he has a family or something, we will know that I shouldn’t waste time. Either way, I feel a little guilty about sending the man off so I could have a clear claim on the A.I. kill. So can you also think about what might be fair, or is my guilt unjustified?” Kevin wondered if he should feel guilty, he had made no promises to the man after all.
“Kevin, I don’t think you have a chance of hiring the man. He has a family here, and his wife works at the same hospital. He also just received a promotion at the hospital, his supervisor seems happy with how he conducted himself during the emergency.” replied Samantha.
“Ah, all the sudden I’m feeling less guilty about sending the man off, it seems to have been to his benefit. So it’s just Fiona and me for now. Maybe I should consider investing in a mechanized armor suit so I don’t get so shot up next time? That reminds me of that suit of space armor Cairbre has for sale…” said Kevin.
As Kevin considered these options, Samantha suggested, “Or you could learn to dodge better. Don’t go spending the credit’s before you have them in the bank.”
“Right, learn to dodge, that’s what I was doing twice and I still got shot,” said Kevin.
“So in retrospect, is there anything you could have done better?” asked Samantha.
Kevin considered the previous night’s business and said, “Yes, I can think of two things I could have done to avoid getting shot. When I was in the psych ward, I should have taken cover behind that cart right from the start. I somehow managed to surprise them, but if I had engaged my armors stealth, and stayed low, I could have been in a much better position and still had the element of surprise.”
“The second time was when I took out the wall. I could have set up a preplanned firing point from behind cover. Damn, it’s so easy to see this afterward,” said Kevin.
“What about the time the guard shot you?” asked Samantha.
“I don’t know, when you're approaching a would-be ally, with your hands up and empty? I think the odds are one in a hundred that someone would shoot at you. Some things are beyond planning, I had to go up one of the sets of stairs, and I might be in jail now if I had just started shooting the hospital guards.” said Kevin.
“There are just some thinks you can’t plan for, or you would be paralyzed by over planning. I think it’s called analysis paralysis. It’s sometimes best to move fast before your enemy is ready, if I was
just half an hour slower, what could have happened? What I need to learn is effective planning at speed.”
“Thanks, Sam, for talking me through this, it’s a good review,” said Kevin. He gave his trainer a hug.
“So what’s on today’s training schedule, Samantha?” asked Kevin.
“I was thinking about some training in ship to ship space combat. Be prepared to suck, space combat is one of the most complicated forms of piloting to learn. You’ll need to manage sensors, shields, guns, and flight all at the same time and literally under the gun,” replied Samantha. “After we go through this a few times, we will back off and start you over on space ship target practice.”
“Why the deep end first?” asked Kevin.
“Because, you’ll learn faster this way and complain less. I know you’ll find the slower training path boring until the targets start firing back. So I decided the best way to start you off was by tossing you into the fur-ball.” said Samantha.
“Is that a new cat joke? Before we get started, I know it’s only been a few days, but I was wondering if my stats had changed any?” asked Kevin.
Samantha brought up a blue screen for Kevin to examine:
Name: Horatio Drake
Race: Human
Hit Points: 300
Combat Level: 4.2
Psionic Energy: 140 (210)
Psionic Level: 0.7
Strength: 3.0 (max 4.0)
Charisma: 2.7 (max 4.0)
Agility: 3.1 (max 4.1)
Intelligence: 2.6 (max 4.1)
Dexterity: 2.9 (max 4.0)
Wisdom: 2.1 (max 4.0)
Constitution: 3.0 (max 4.0)
Memory: 2.7 (max 4.1)
Maximum values are based on personal genetics.
“Hmm, it looks almost the same as it was what five days ago?” said Kevin.
“Six days, since it’s now Thursday and you last checked on Friday night. Your training in psionics and your recent combat experience boosted your wisdom a fraction. This pushed up your psionic strength and energy, which affected your combat level slightly. But it’s only been a few days. You have improved many times over where you were back two weeks in real time,” said Samantha.
Then without waiting for further discussion, she made a motion and conjured a copy of the High Jinx, and they started in on the day’s flight training.
The rest of the day was spent in training until it was time to get ready to attend the Governor’s dinner.
***
While Drake was getting dressed in his room in the Guild Hall, he remembered that tonight would be his last in this place. He would have to move back into the ship sometime tomorrow, or pay for another day.
“Drake, I’ve just been informed that the Governor's car is waiting for you at the main entrance,” said Samantha.
“It seems he doesn’t want to take the chance that I might get lost at the last minute,” said Drake.
After dressing, Drake fit Samantha’s data-bracer over his arm. It was the one thing he had to absolutely insist on with the tailor, he would not go to the dinner without Samantha… and his blaster, belt and all. He hoped the last didn’t cause trouble, but he would give up the blaster before he would give up Sam.
“Samantha, remind me that we need to start looking for a body for you,” said Drake, “I think this whole event would be a lot more fun with you on my arm… rather than on my arm.”
Drake knew that Samantha would understand what he meant.
When Drake saw the ‘car’, it brought to mind a motor coach or RV, rather than a limo. A man was holding open a door for Drake to step into the vehicle. There was no need to duck before entering the ‘car’. The vehicle was obviously meant for entertaining. And based on the fact that it started to move without Drake feeling the motion, he now suspected some sort of inertial stabilizer.
The coach was empty when Drake entered it. He walked up to something that resembled a bar located in the middle of the vehicle to one side and was greeted by a voice.
“What would you care to drink sir?” asked the voice.
“What are you?” asked Drake.
“Thank you, sir, I am an auto-bar.” responded the voice.
Drake had not had many of the alcoholic beverages in Omnia and was tempted to try some out. Then he considered what the night was about and decided that he should avoid anything that left him unprepared to deal with the Governor.
“It’s going to be a long night, how about a cup of carf.” asked Drake.
“Sweetened or unsweetened?” replied the voice.
Drake had only drunk carf once before, and it had been a rough unsweetened drink that helped him wake up after a nap.
“Let’s try sweetened,” replied Drake.
After his drink had appeared, Drake took a seat.
The coach made a couple more stops to pick people up on the way to the Governor’s, but since Drake didn’t know any of the people, he kept to himself.
The carf was much better, and Drake suspected that the sweetener was only partly the reason; the flavor was smoother, less bitter.
The Governor’s residence was more a walled estate than a mansion. After passing a high outer wall, the coach arrived at an enormous house. Drake had no preconception about what to expect, so the lack of a pillared and stone edifice was not a surprise. The mansion just looked like a huge home.
However, when Drake entered the main hall that made up the center of the building he was impressed. The interior looked like an old cathedral, but instead of a high vaulted ceiling held up by heavy stone pillars, the pillars were thin things that seemed like they should be overwhelmed by the weight of the high roof.
This appeared to be where the people gathered before heading in for dinner.
Drake estimated that there were over a hundred people already waiting in the chamber.
After a moment, Drake spotted a heavyset man, who he recognized as the Governor, approaching.
“It’s so good of you to make it to my dinner tonight Horatio; do you prefer to be called Horatio or Mr. Drake? My staff seemed uncertain.” asked the man.
“Thank you, Governor, most people just call me Drake, it’s simple, and I prefer the name. So how is the night progressing so far, sir?” asked Drake, hoping to get the Governor talking about something safe and mundane at the start.
“Oh, very well, most of the town’s notable people are arriving, everyone seems quite relieved by the quick and almost painless outcome of what could have been a tragedy.” replied Governor Tamazi.
“Yes, painless except for the few that came in contact with the rogue A.I.,” replied Drake.
“Yes,” said the Governor “but I understand that no effort is being spared to bring everything back to order.”
“Speaking of order, before we could get a message off that the A.I. had been destroyed, an Imperial Navy Battlecruiser had been dispatched with an Imperial Representative to ‘deal with the matter.' One shudders to imagine what might have happened if you hadn’t taken care of it first.” continued the Governor.
“But it would be helpful if you could be around in a week when the Battlecruiser comes out of hyper. For appearance sake it would help if you still held the position of marshal, to lend weight to any testimony you might be called to give. What do you say, to another week, you won’t have any duties, just wait for the people to calm down.” asked the Governor.
Drake thought of how to word his request, “I can see how giving the appearance of stability and being in complete control must be of paramount concern for you, sir. I would hate to see all your effort wasted, though…”
The Governor looked sharply at Drake for a moment as if gauging a threat.
Drake waved his hand and continued, “Please don’t get me wrong, Governor. I can stick around for a few weeks, and the title of marshal is not such a great weight. I just wonder how an investigator might see those poor people that have had their lives torn apart by this. Would it not show the local government in a better light if
we could do all we can to help those personally affected to recover? Just think of how it would look if the media were talking about how you, the Governor, was making sure the victims of the rogue A.I. were being properly cared for, just as the Battlecruiser drops out of hyper… I think it would give just the right kind of impression to the representative of the Imperium,” said Drake.
The Governor continued to look at Drake for a moment, “Hmpf, clever, I’ll think about your suggestion. Thanks for staying in place for a few more days too. Well I’m going to have to talk to a few other guests, let me know if you have any other pressing needs.” said the man.
Drake thought about a few other things, but decided that he’d pressed his luck far enough for the night.
As the Governor moved on, he spotted another man in the crowd that he recently met.
Mikaj stood apart from the flow of people greeting one another, like an island in a stream. Drake wasn’t sure if that was because people knew him or didn’t know him. The Elf had an uninviting demeanor, which might have been enough to explain the distance people kept from him.
When Drake approached Mikaj, he thought the Elf’s face might have changed from its stern countenance for just a second, but it was too short a time for Drake to be sure.
“Hello again, Mr. Drake.” said the Dark Elf.
Drake suspected it would always be ‘Mr. Drake’ from this man.
“Hello, Mr. Ryuu. I’m a bit surprised to see you here. Didn’t you say that you were new to the planet?” asked Drake.
“Yes, but word of my presence brought me an invitation. While I don’t usually like public events, this one might prove to be amusing considering the actors.”
“I didn’t know there was a play, I just came for the dinner.”
“All the galaxy is a stage, Mr. Drake, and the actors of note are the Governor whom you were just talking to, and the local Colonel of Militia. A word of advice, stay clear of the Colonel, he might be connected to those people we were talking about who we don’t consider friends.”
Making the Grade (Omnia Online Series Book 2) Page 20