“Oh, grow up,” Dren said growing increasingly exasperated.
“I’m only seven,” said Brachia. “I don’t have to grow up yet.”
“Data has been decrypted,” said Kathy. “But it’s not a message.”
Puzzled, Dren asked, “If it’s not a message, what is it?”
“It’s a communication’s channel on the tele-network,” said Omar. “I’ve never seen an encryption setup like this before. It’s not very logical.”
“Activate the communication channel,” said Brachia in a no nonsense tone. He no longer sounded like a seven year old boy.
“Compliance,” said Omar.
A holographic image of a battle helmet appeared in the center of the room.
“Is that you, Nick?” Dren said.
“Really, Nick,” said Brachia. “A battle helmet is your avatar? Couldn’t you be a little more original?”
“I am original,” said Nickelo. “I’m a one-of-a-kind prototype, remember?”
“It’s good to see you, Nick,” Dren said. “How’s Uncle Rick? We saw the newscasts on the IEN channel.”
“What’s even more important,” said Brachia. “How’re you doing this? I thought you were locked out of the tele-network.”
The holographic battle helmet rotated until it faced Dren’s brother. “I’m still locked out of the tele-network. But I have a friend who isn’t.”
A holographic image of a lizard-looking head appeared next to the image of the battle helmet.
“Hello,” said the lizard.
“Hello,” Dren said. “You’re a Sterilian, aren’t you?”
“On, no,” said the lizard. “My name is Jonathan. My wizard scout is a Sterilian. I’m just using a male of her race as my avatar.”
“Jonathan’s a battle computer,” said Nickelo.
“So we gathered,” said Brachia. “So, how are you here? Not that we don’t appreciate your visit, but why are you here?”
For the next few minutes, Nickelo explained his relationship with the battle computer Jonathan. Dren listened intently as Nickelo explained the flaw in the airfield’s armory which had allowed them to scan outside their armory. Her brother was especially interested in their ability to hack into both the communication network and the spaceport’s security tele-bots.
Dren finally had to interrupt the interchange between Brachia and the battle computers.
“Now see what you’ve done?” Dren said with a knowing smile. “Brachia has been eating, drinking, and living hacking into encrypted systems for the past year. I’ve been trying to get him to interact with people more. You’re not helping me any.”
“Aw, sis,” said Brachia reverting to his seven year old self. “This fits right in with what I’ve been doing. I’ve almost broken the encryption.”
Although battle helmets didn’t have ears, Dren thought if they had, Nickelo’s ears would have perked up.
“What encryption is that, Brachia?” said Nickelo.
Brachia beamed as he unconsciously switched back to his more adult personality. “I’m talking about deep encryption on the Crosioian battle computer,” he said as he pointed to a cluttered workbench.
Dren followed the line of her brother’s finger. She saw assorted pieces of a disassembled Crosioian battle helmet lying on the table.
“What have you done?” Dren cried. “I promised the head of the Empire’s R&D we would get the helmet and staff back to them in one piece.”
Although Brachia and she had been responsible for obtaining the Crosioian scout’s battle helmet and phase spear after their uncle had killed the scout, the equipment had been confiscated by the Intergalactic Empire’s R&D section. It was only after her brother and she’d been assigned to the planet Storage that she’d been able to coordinate the transfer of the equipment back for analysis.
“Calm down, sis,” laughed Brachia. “You worry too much. I gave Dr. Jeffery a replacement from one of the warehouses devoted to the Crosioian variables.”
“What variables are those?” said Nickelo.
Dren noticed his increased interest at the word ‘variables’.
“The Crosioian variables,” explained Brachia. “As far as we can tell, ‘the One’ has some big master algorithm. The algorithm relies on variables.”
“Think of variables as another word for creatures capable of using freewill,” Dren said.
“All living creatures have freewill,” said Jonathan. “I believe even my friend Nick and I have freewill to a certain degree.”
“Hmm,” said Brachia getting sidetracked. “I’d think anything that operates by logic wouldn’t have freewill. A totally logical creature could be maneuvered into making certain decisions.”
“So can freewill creatures to a certain extent,” said Nickelo. “I suspect you don’t mean all freewill creatures when you used the term ‘variables’.”
Nickelo’s comment brought Dren’s brother back to the subject at hand. “Oh, no,” said Brachia. “I believe ‘the One’ only considers a few freewill creatures as variables. As you pointed out, it could use logic to entice most creatures to remain within given parameters.”
“Nick,” Dren said trying to take control of the conversation. “From what I’ve been able to find out, there used to be thousands of variables. The supply system on Storage was developed to support those variables. Over the years, the number of variables, ie; freewilled-creatures supported by ‘the One’ has been reduced significantly. We don’t know the exact number, but Brachia and I think only a few dozen variables are currently active.”
“Uncle Rick is a supported variable,” said Brachia. “That’s why he can summon items from the warehouses on Storage.”
“The Crosioian scout killed by Uncle Rick last year was also a variable,” Dren said.
“Yeah,” said Brachia. “Now there aren’t any more Crosioian variables.”
Dren picked up on Brachia’s logic. “Which means the equipment in the warehouses devoted to the Crosioian variables is no longer needed”
“Exactly,” said Brachia beaming. “That’s how I was able to upgrade Uncle Rick’s equipment.”
“You did what?” Dren said as her irritation with her brother started to rise. “You’re not authorized to modify existing equipment in the warehouses.”
“Whatever,” said Brachia who seemed unfazed by his sister’s disapproval.
Before Dren could argue further, Nickelo interrupted the two siblings.
“What modifications did you make,” said Nickelo. “Rick said his phase rod felt different.”
“And well it should,” said Brachia. “I upgraded it.”
“How?” Dren said. Her scientific interest momentarily outweighed her irritation with her brother.
“During Uncle Rick’s fight with the Crosioian scout last year,” said Brachia, “I noticed the scout’s phase spear seemed more powerful than Rick’s phase rod.”
“I noticed that as well,” said Nickelo. “Did you figure out why?”
“Yes,” said Brachia taking obvious pride in his achievement. “It wasn’t easy, but Omar and I figured it out.”
Dren noticed Brachia look sideways at her before adding. “Dren helped some.”
“I did?” Dren said. Other than helping her brother with some dimensional teleportation equations a few months ago, they’d pretty much each worked on their own projects during on-duty hours.
“Yes, you did,” said Brachia. “The Crosioian scout’s phase spear had a strange type of Power frequency intermingled with its standard phase energy. It was that extra Power frequency which made it more powerful.”
“An extra Power frequency?” said Nickelo.
Dren thought her uncle’s battle computer actually sounded excited.
“Can you upload the specs to me?” said Nickelo. “How did you modify Rick’s phase rod? What about the battle hel–”
“Whoa, Nick,” said Brachia. “One thing at a time. If you don’t slow down, I’ll have to make you walk the plank.” B
rachia giggled.
“Stay serious, Brachia,” Dren warned. “I’ve got a meeting in forty-five minutes.”
“Fine,” said Brachia. “Then here we go. One, I can upload the specs, but we’ll have to come up with some system to prevent ‘the One’ from intercepting the data.”
“If there are tele-bots here, ‘the One’ already knows,” said Jonathan.
“There aren’t,” said Brachia. “But just to be sure. Omar, scan the room for tele-bots or any other spying devices.”
“Room is clear, captain,” said Omar.
“See?” said Brachia. “I programmed Omar to detect tele-bots. I can do the same for you, Nick.”
“That could come in handy,” said Nickelo. “For now, Jonathan and I can come up with a way to upload specs. Now, what did you do to the phase rod?”
“Well,” said Brachia in a way that made Dren think he might get into trouble. “I believe a demon merged part of itself into the phase spear.”
Brachia hesitated. “Maybe I’d better show you.” He picked up the Crosioian phase spear and placed it underneath a nearby machine.
“Omar,” Brachia said. “Activate a level three scan.”
“Complying, captain,” said Omar.
A light near the top of the machine swept a beam of blue light across the phase spear. A monitor to the left side of the machine displayed two wavy lines. One was red and the other was blue. The red line nearly, but not quite, overlaid the blue one.
“The blue wave is a standard phase frequency,” said Brachia. “The red wave is the extra frequency I mentioned.”
Dren walked over to the monitor and studied the red wave closer. “The red frequency looks strangely familiar,” Dren said. She adjusted a few dials on the machine in an attempt to isolate the frequency.
“Don’t waste your time, sis,” said Brachia. “The source of the frequency adjusts itself to prevent isolation.”
“That’s impossible,” Dren said. “Only living things can make those kinds of adjustments.”
“The frequency appears similar to some of the Power frequencies from demons Rick’s encountered,” said Nickelo.
“Exactly, Nick,” beamed Brachia. “The Crosioian phase spear contained a piece of a demon. A very strong one at that. I was able to use the dimensional-teleportation equation Dren gave me to build a device that extracted the demon’s Power source from the phase spear. I was able to reverse the process and merge it with Uncle Rick’s phase rod.”
“What?” Dren said. Her brother often did strange and dangerous things, but that he would do such a thing was too much.
“Don’t get excited, sis,” said Brachia. “It’s not like it’s actively controlling the phase rod or anything. It just makes it more powerful.”
“That would explain the differences Rick noticed,” said Nickelo. “But…, Brachia, I think you may have missed a few side effects. Rick told me his phase rod felt like it wanted to suck the life out of his opponent.”
“Uh, could be,” said Brachia. “I couldn’t spend as much time on it as I wanted. The Crosioian scout’s battle computer has been taking up most of my time.”
Brachia turned off the machine and returned the phase spear to its table.
“Actually, Nick,” said Brachia. “I could use some help. I think I’m close to breaking the encryption, but the logic continues to elude me.”
“Perhaps it isn’t logic,” said Jonathan.
Brachia faced Jonathan’s avatar. “What do you mean?” said Brachia.
“Nick can explain it better than I,” said Jonathan. “The reason we’re able to communicate with you is due to non-logical encryption.”
“Do you mean–” started Brachia.
“Hold on,” Dren said. She had no desire to get in the middle of a long debate. “I’ve got a meeting to go to.” She looked at her brother. “I want you to take that essence-of-demon or whatever it is out of Uncle Rick’s phase rod. It’s too dangerous.”
“Sorry,” said Brachia. “It’s too late. The Crosioian scout had four phase spears with the demon essence. I used them to modify four of Uncle Rick’s phase rods. The other fifty-one are still standard phase rods.”
Dren argued with her brother for a few more minutes before giving up. Finally, she left to meet with Keka and Draken. Her brother would just have to wait.
Chapter 26 – Mind Games
_____________________________________
“Get the lead out, cadet,” said the commandant in a loud but friendly voice. “Look at me. I’m in my nineties, and I have to keep doubling back for you.”
Richard nodded his head as he sucked in another breath. He was too tired to answer. The commandant and he had been running steady for over an hour now. Richard had lost count, but he was pretty sure this was the fourth time they’d passed hangar 1.
At least the night air is cool, said Nickelo sounding cheerful. TAC Officer Myers wanted to run you during the day. You should thank your lucky stars the commandant was nearby and promised to run all your fat off tonight.
Give me a break, Nick, Richard said. I was two kilos heavier at the weigh-in this morning. I wouldn’t exactly call that fat.
You were two and a half kilos over your normal weight, said Nickelo. I thought TAC Officer Myers’ eyes were going to pop out of his head when you stepped on the scales.
Richard wasn’t happy about his weight either. Even worse, he could tell he was out of shape. The commandant was setting a fast pace, but he should’ve been able to keep up. After all, cadets were expected to be in near perfect physical condition.
Can I help it if ‘the One’ sent me on another mission? Richard said getting more than a little defensive. Myers knows what’s going on. But he still acts like it’s my doing.
Nickelo laughed. Stop your whining and pick those feet up, cadet. Nickelo paused and then said more seriously, Besides, it is your fault. I told you to exercise several times while we were on the mission. You ignored me.
If you remember correctly, Richard said, I was trying to stay alive.
Whatever, said Nickelo. Based upon your weight, you obviously found time to eat.
Richard decided to ignore his battle computer. He concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. The fire in his lungs was becoming unbearable. Richard knew he was nearing the end of his endurance.
That maintenance truck, Richard thought. I’ll run until I get there. Then I’m stopping. I can’t do any more than that.
When the commandant pulled even with the maintenance truck, Richard picked out a parked Warcat outside hangar 3.
I’ll run until I reach that cat. Then I’m quitting, he promised himself.
When he drew even with the Warcat, Richard picked out a large crack in the asphalt ahead as his new goal. Richard had been playing the ‘I’ll quit when I get there game’ for the last fifteen minutes. Tricking his mind was the only way he could keep his tired body running.
Richard was concentrating so hard on his next target he nearly bumped into the commandant when he slowed down to a fast walk.
“Catch your breath, Rick,” the commandant said. “You just breathe, and I’ll talk.”
Nodding his head gratefully, Richard drew in large gulps of cool air. A puff of a breeze in the desert night air hit his sweat-soaked uniform. Richard felt a chill run down his back.
The commandant noticed Richard shiver. “Now don’t go catching a cold on me, Rick. We’ve made a lot of progress these last three weeks. I won’t have all that training go to waste because you decide to catch pneumonia.”
“Yes, sir,” Richard wheezed. “I mean, no sir. I won’t.”
“You’re darn right you won’t,” said the commandant. “And that’s an order. You’ll be getting your DNA baseline in three more weeks. Then you’ll be able to selfheal.”
“That’s good news, sir,” Richard said.
The commandant laughed. “I hear you. Was your mission that rough?”
“Actually, sir,” Richard said, “i
t’s a little blurry. I remember running a lot. Nick says we were on mission for four months, but I swear it seemed a whole lot longer than that.”
Richard noticed the commandant looking over at him. The commandant had a way of looking at people that made them feel like he could see their every thought.
“It was that bad, huh?” the commandant said.
Richard’s initial thought was to say something brave and to brush the question off. He would have if it had been Jerad or Tam asking. But it was the commandant. Richard had always been fond of the commandant. In Richard’s opinion, the gruff old wizard scout was the epitome of what every wizard scout should be. Richard knew he’d follow the commandant into hell itself if he asked.
“Yes, sir,” Richard said. “It was bad. Nick says we were in the spiritual dimension about sixty thousand years ago.”
I said 58,263 years ago, said Nickelo.
Ignoring his battle computer, Richard said, “Nickelo has no points of reference in the spiritual dimension, but it wasn’t the dolgars’ home, that’s for sure. The place was so cold even my battle suit had trouble keeping me warm.”
The commandant nodded his head. “Do you remember your mission?”
Richard tried to think. Visions of an icy world and very hairy creatures kept slipping in and out of his thoughts, but he couldn’t quite figure them out.
“I’m not sure, sir,” Richard said. “I’m lucky Sheba and Sheeta were with me most of the time. I think I would have died otherwise.”
“Yes,” said the commandant sounding deep in thought. “Janice and I could have used some dolgars on our last mission for ‘the One’. Maybe our Power reserves wouldn’t have been damaged. I think you’re very lucky to have them.”
Richard thought about it. The dolgars were good friends. Even the aloof Sheeta appeared fond of him in his own way.
“I also think I’m lucky, sir,” Richard said. “It’s a strange relationship though.”
“How so?” said the commandant.
“Well,” Richard said. “Take the male Sheeta for instance. He’s worked with me a couple of times during the last three weeks here with that spirit-horse.”
Wizard Scout (Intergalactic Wizard Scout Chronicles Book 3) Page 28