by Isaac Hooke
She needed to feel his touch right about then, though.
“Yes,” Rade said sleepily. “It’s over.”
twenty-nine
Rade rested in sickbay aboard the Motley Brown. The Weavers had replaced the hardpoint in his shoulder, and healed his broken bones. Now he just needed to rehydrate and relax a little.
The Motley Brown had successfully diverted the last asteroid. The one billion aliens on the planet were saved. As soon as the job was done, the Hoplites jetted back to the Cutlass class ship.
Before leaving, apparently Lui had detected the PASS distress signal from Rade’s new version of Electron. Lui had detoured into the cave and discovered the Hoplite, and as Rade had guessed, only its power core was damaged. No harm had come to the AI core, which Lui was able to retrieve. It sat in the mech hangar bay at that very moment, waiting for the team to procure a new Hoplite with an empty AI core.
Shaw came to visit him. “The storage closet is lonely without you.”
“I’ll be back there soon enough,” Rade said. “The Weavers want to keep me under observation for a little while. My body underwent some ‘extreme stress,’ in their words.”
“Their words are accurate,” Shaw said.
“Yeah well, so did my mind,” Rade said.
“As did mine,” Shaw said. She wrapped a hand around his palm. “I was worried I was going to lose you.”
Rade smiled weakly. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”
“No, I’m sorry that you had to go through what you did,” Shaw said. “And I’m just glad to have you back. Now all we need is the kids and we’ll be complete.”
Rade nodded. “It has been a nice holiday from the twins, though, you have to admit.”
She gave him an astonished expression. “A holiday? Ha! We’ll take a proper holiday from the twins sometime. And soon.”
“I think we’ll have enough of a holiday in the storage closet, if you ask me,” Rade said. “There’s nothing to do in there all day.”
“I’m sure we can think of a few things.” She squeezed his hand.
He chuckled, and she smiled in that way only she could, with those cute dimples appearing in her cheeks.
“You know, that storage closet is a stateroom, as far as I’m concerned,” Rade said. “With you there.”
“I love you,” Shaw said. “I really do.” She leaned forward and kissed him sensuously on the lips. Then she pulled away before he could get enough. “A little hint of what’s to come.”
“I like your hints,” Rade said.
Shaw sat back in the visitor chair. Her gaze became distant. Either she was in her Implant, or…
“What’s on your mind?” Rade asked.
She crossed her arms tightly over her chest, as if to fend off a sudden chill. “I had to put down the rogue Nemesis out there.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Rade said.
“You’ve often told me you feel AIs are just as human as we are,” Shaw said.
Rade considered his words carefully. He didn’t want her to feel any guiltier than she obviously was. And yet, she knew how he felt about this, so he couldn’t really lie to her. “I believe that, yes. Sometimes I think they’re even more human than we are, in certain ways.”
“More?” That got her attention. “How so?”
“They always protect us,” Rade said. “Sacrificing themselves to save us from death. That’s the greatest human quality any machine can ever have.”
Her brow furrowed. “But that’s part of their innate programming.”
“Is it?” Rade said. “Maybe. But that’s why I say they’re more human. They embody our best values, programmed right into them.”
Shaw stared at the floor for several moments, then finally met his gaze. “Why did you shoot the original Ms. Bounty’s AI core back there while we were aboard the Volare? You could have aimed for her power source, or her legs, anywhere else but the core. And yet you didn’t. It surprised me a little, given your stance on AIs.”
Rade nodded slowly. “I can see how it would. Honestly, in that moment, I didn’t want to waste time loading the Artificial into the backseat of the Hoplite. We were hurtling toward a planet, with no idea how long we had before we hit the atmosphere. I didn’t see the point in delaying, especially considering that the Artificial was probably beyond saving. If I targeted a non-lethal area, besides the fact there was a chance I wouldn’t stop the Artificial, if it survived, I knew you’d still want to waste precious seconds carrying the old Ms. Bounty into Nemesis’ passenger seat. And if we abandoned the still-living Artificial at that point, you’d feel guilty.
“So I made the choice for you. The guilt is mine alone to bear. I tell myself that her AI core was probably completely overwritten by Zhidao. That the Ms. Bounty we knew was already dead by that point. I remind myself that we already have her backup running in a new Artificial. I do all of these things, and yet the guilt is still there.”
She gave him a look that seemed to be a mixture of pride, and forgiveness. Then she stood up and wrapped her arms around him so tightly, for a moment he thought she might lift him off the bed.
THE MOTLEY BROWN set a course for the Builder on the far side of the system.
When they were two days out, the Builder self-destructed, leaving the Gate unfinished.
“Well, that solves that problem for us,” Rade said when Snakeoil informed him over the comm. Rade had returned to the storage closet by then, with Shaw.
“Maybe so,” Snakeoil said. “But I was hoping to steal a few propellant tanks from the vessel, and maybe sell it as salvage.”
“How much propellant do we have left?” Rade said.
“I’ll be able to bring us to a stop relative to the rest of the system,” Snakeoil said. “But we’re essentially stuck here until the Builder Surus ordered arrives. If it arrives.”
“It will arrive,” Rade said.
He wrapped his arms around Shaw and continued doing what he was doing. Yes, the storage closet was definitely a stateroom.
Five days later the Builder that Surus had ordered finally arrived. It dispatched a shuttle containing spare propellant tanks for the Motley Brown. Meanwhile the Builder began work on the return Gate to Kuangshi immediately.
When the propellant arrived, Snakeoil had his technicians refill the tanks, and then he set a course for the planet they had saved, as per Rade’s orders.
When the Motley Brown reached the planet, Rade had Snakeoil share the feed from the external cameras, and he stared at the blue, green and white dome in awe.
“They’ll never even know how close they came to annihilation,” Snakeoil said. “Nor will they know who saved them. It’s thankless work, being MOTHs. Or ex-MOTHs, in our case.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Rade said.
Over the next six months, while waiting for the Builder to complete the Gate, Surus flew night-time stealth missions over the populated areas, trying to sense Zhidao. By three months time, she had completed surveying all of the major areas, and concluded that the Purple had probably retreated into the planet’s crust for the foreseeable future. Nonetheless, she continued searching, not wanting to give up until the Gate was completed.
She planned to leave the return Gate to Kuangshi intact, with a drone in orbit around the planet, and another drone acting as an InterGalNet node at the Gate itself, to keep her apprised of the situation.
“I’ll try to keep the Gate leading to this system hidden for as long as possible,” Surus said after returning to the ship from her latest night-time excursion. “But the Sino-Koreans will eventually find it. I’ll know when they do, thanks to my drones, and I can take the necessary steps to ensure the Sino-Koreans are aware of the delicate situation we have.”
“You think they’ll claim the alien planet?” Rade asked her.
“No,” Surus answered. “They will attempt a first contact at some point, when the aliens are ready. I would recommend waiting until at least interplanetary
space travel is achieved.”
“Probably a good idea,” Rade said. “But tell that to the Sino-Koreans. They’ll be eager to secure an alien ally.”
“I’m sure they will,” Surus said.
“Though of course, once the aliens achieve interplanetary space travel, that means we’ll have to worry about Zhidao again,” Rade said.
“Yes,” Surus said. “But you won’t be around by then, so that’s something you won’t have to worry about.”
“Don’t be so sure,” Rade said. “Rejuvenation treatments are getting better and better...”
In the middle of the fourth month, Surus tapped in from the surface. Communications were essentially real-time, thanks to the telemetry drones Snakeoil had deployed in orbit.
“I found a mid-sized, space-capable vessel on the surface,” Surus said. “Hidden on the side of one of the mountains. No doubt Zhidao intended to use that to escape at some point. My guess is he was hoping we wouldn’t discover it. He’s modified the fuselage with his usual stealth tech.”
“Can we retrieve the vessel as salvage?” Rade asked.
“No,” Surus said. “Zhidao has the access locked down tight. I went ahead and planted explosive charges across the board. I’m relaying the coordinates to Snakeoil. After detonation, he can spend a few hours running the Vipers of the Motley Brown into the wreckage, until there’s nothing left for the native inhabitants to ever discover.”
Finally the Gate was completed, and the Motley Brown was able to return to the rest of human space.
During the journey back, after access to the InterGalNet was restored, Manic never brought up the topic of his kid again. Rade had to assume that Molly, the mother, had said no in regards to allowing the child aboard. Rade didn’t blame her. Still, he decided he wasn’t going to broach the topic with Manic. Rade wasn’t going to embarrass the man or put him on the spot by bringing it up. If Manic was ready to bring his kid onto the ship, he would tell Rade. Until then, things would remain as they were.
During the trip, Rade and Shaw sent messages to Cora and Dora to relay to the kids, and they received video replies in return. It was a joy to see the children. They were doing well, it seemed, and had adapted to station life.
“They really like the extra room,” Cora said in one of the messages. “I often take them on walks through the promenade.”
“I’m so happy to hear that,” Shaw told Rade.
Rade nodded. “That’s great.” Except it’s not going to last long.
Oh well. That was what virtual reality was for. And VR treadmills.
Finally they reached Metare system and headed toward the N’Yarranth space station, which housed the fully repaired Argonaut.
Shortly before docking, Snakeoil came down to bid Rade and Shaw farewell.
“I’ve been making my rounds on the team,” Snakeoil said. His eyes were red. “Can we make this quick? I’m barely keeping it together.”
“You got it,” Rade said, growing teary-eyed himself. He gave Snakeoil a hug and patted him on the back.
“Stay safe, my brother,” Snakeoil said.
“And you as well,” Rade told him.
Snakeoil broke away and gave Shaw a hug in turn. “Keep him out of trouble, will you?”
“Always do,” Shaw said.
Snakeoil withdrew. “It was good working with you again. I love you both.” Snakeoil’s lower lip was doing this trembling thing, and he quickly made his way to the entrance.
“Are you sure you don’t want to join us?” Rade asked.
Snakeoil paused at the opening to glance askance. The dark outline of his body was silhouetted by the brighter light from outside. “I’ve got my own ship. My own crew.”
“You can keep your ship and crew,” Rade said. “We’ll form a convoy.”
Snakeoil shook his head. “Traipsing across the galaxy, hunting down aliens… while it was fun while it lasted, it’s not my path. I left all that behind with the military. I don’t really have the stomach for that kind of work anymore. It’s okay once in a while, but full-time? I’m sorry. I’ve chosen a safer, more relaxed existence. Good luck to you, my friends. You were always closer to me than family.”
Snakeoil wiped his eyes and left.
“Man, that was hard,” Rade said. “Harder than I thought it would be. I’m going to miss him.”
Shaw squeezed his hand to console him. Or perhaps just to let him know he wasn’t alone in that moment.
The Motley Brown finally docked.
Cora and Dora were waiting just outside the space station’s airlock, so that after debarking Rade and Shaw were able to reunite with Alex and Sil immediately. When he saw his two kids standing there, Rade couldn’t suppress the sudden joy he felt.
Rade was expecting shouts of “mommy” and “daddy” but the kids were too speechless to say a word. Instead they ran up to him and Shaw and literally threw themselves at the pair. Sil landed in his arms, Alex in Shaw’s.
Rade hugged Sil tight. He turned, and managed to wrap an arm around Alex and Shaw as well.
“Are you ever leaving us again?” Sil asked. Tears streamed down her face.
“Never,” Rade told her.
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postscript
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about the author
USA Today bestselling author Isaac Hooke holds a degree in engineering physics, though his more unusual inventions remain fictive at this time. He is an avid hiker, cyclist, and photographer who sometimes resides in Edmonton, Alberta.
acknowledgments
THANK YOU to my knowledgeable beta readers and advanced reviewers who helped smooth out the rough edges of the prerelease manuscript: Nicole P., Gary F., Sandy G., Amy B., Lance W., Myles C., Lisa A. G., Gregg C., Jeff K., Mark C., Jeremy G., Doug B., Jenny O., Bryan O., Lezza M., Gene A., Larry J., Allen M., Norman H., Eric, Robine, Noel, Anton, Spencer, Trudi, Corey, Erol, David, Charles, Walter, Lisa, Ramon, Chris, Scott, Michael, Chris, Bob, Jim, Maureen, Zane, Chuck, Shayne, Anna, Dave, Roger, Nick, Gerry, Charles, Annie, Patrick, Mike, Jeff, Lisa, Jason, Bryant, Janna, Tom, Jerry, Chris, Jim, Brandon, Kathy, Norm, Jonathan, Derek, Shawn, Judi, Eric, Rick, Bryan, Barry, Sherman, Jim, Bob, Ralph, Darren, Michael, Chris, Michael, Julie, Glenn, Rickie, Rhonda, Neil, Claude, Ski, Joe, Paul, Larry, John, Norma, Jeff, David, Brennan, Phyllis, Robert, Darren, Daniel, Montzalee, Robert, Dave, Diane, Peter, Skip, Louise, Dave, Brent, Erin, Paul, Jeremy, Dan, Garland, Sharon, Dave, Pat, Nathan, Max, Martin, Greg, David, Nancy, Ed, David, Karen, Becky, Jacob, Ben, Don, Carl, Gene, Bob, Luke, Teri, Gerald, Lee, Rich, Ken, Daniel, Chris, Al, Andy, Tim, Robert, Fred, David, Mitch, Don, Tony, Dian, Tony, John, James, David, Pat, Jean, Bryan, William, Roy, Dave, Vincent, Tim, Richard, Kevin, George, Andrew, John, Richard, Robin, Sue, Mark, Jerry, Rodger, Rob, Byron, Ty, Mike, Gerry, Steve, Benjamin, Anna, Keith, Jeff, Josh, Herb, Bev, Simon, John, David, Greg, Larry, Timothy, Tony, Ian, Niraj, Maureen, Jim, Len, Bryan, Todd, Maria, Angela, Gerhard, Renee, Pete, Hemantkumar, Tim, Joseph, Will, David, Suzanne, Steve, Derek, Valerie, Laurence, James, Andy, Mark, Tarzy, Christina, Rick, Mike, Paula, Tim, Jim, Gal, Anthony, Ron, Dietrich, Mindy, Ben, Steve, Paddy & Penny, Troy, Marti, Herb, Jim, David, Alan, Leslie, Chuck, Dan, Perry, Chris, Rich, Rod, Trevor, Rick, Michael, Tim, Mark, Alex, John, William, Doug, Tony, David, Sam, Derek, John, Jay, Tom, Bryant, Larry, Anjanette, Gary, Travis, Jennifer, Henry, Drew
, Michelle, Bob, Gregg, Billy, Jack, Sandra, Libby, Jonathan, Karl, Bruce, Clay, Gary, Sarge, Andrew, Deborah, Steve, and Curtis.
Without you all, this novel would have typos, continuity errors, and excessive lapses in realism. Thank you for helping me make this the best military science fiction novel it could possibly be, and thank you for leaving the early reviews that help new readers find my books.
And of course I’d be remiss if I didn't thank my mother, father, and brothers, whose untiring wisdom and thought-provoking insights have always guided me through the twisting labyrinth inside that towering asteroid known as life.
— Isaac Hooke
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