by S. H. Jucha
Franz had a few more moments to chat with Miriamette. Then his location app detected Alex and company entering the bay. When the team was accounted for, Alex signaled flight readiness to Miriamette. The sister closed the hatch, checked that the deck crew had cleared the bay, and triggered the bay doors open.
Franz’s traveler launched, and he selected a circular approach to the Toralian ship. The SADEs aboard the fighter had an opportunity to record close views of the alien ship via the vessel’s sensors.
Franz chose to halt the flight and station his ship bow to bow with the Dark Whispers at about fifty meters.
The black ship had a wedge design from bow to stern. Nonetheless, its bow alone dwarfed the Omnian traveler.
Julien smiled. Typically, Alex’s mind ran counter to popular thought, and he tended to speak about futures that hadn’t happened and might never arrive.
Franz sailed the traveler alongside the Toralian ship’s midline. His helmet image was highlighted with a tiny, yellow circle.
Franz magnified the view and replied,
Franz admitted it was a good question, and he took a moment to consider the possibilities, while Miriamette navigated the bay’s opening.
The SADEs were disappointed with the bay’s interior. It was completely empty.
The bay doors, which could accommodate much larger vessels than the Omnians’ traveler, closed, as Miriamette settled the fighter to the deck.
Mickey chuckled at the absurdity of the remark, and Julien sprouted a fairy-like dusting of tiny sparks from his head.
The Omnians waited until the bay pressurized and their escort, Suntred, entered through the airlock.
Miranda quipped.
Alex shared a final thought with Franz. He sent,
Suntred had been momentarily confused. She was eager to greet their guests, but the Omnians’ fighter didn’t appear to have an entry port. If the Omnians walk through the ship’s hull, I’ll run away screaming in terror, she thought. When a hatch broke the hull’s smooth surface and dropped, Suntred breathed a sigh of relief. It created a soft whistle between her pointed teeth.
However, Suntred’s ease was swiftly lost. The visuals of the Omnians had given the Toralians no indication of their size. The first individual off the ship was clearly the leader, Alex. But he was several times Suntred’s mass, and the two Omnians who followed him were even larger. When they jumped to the deck, it shook with their impact. It was all Suntred could do to wave them forward and back away toward the bay’s exit ahead of them.
When Suntred turned in the airlock to face the corridor hatch, the Omnians had their first look at the biological reason for the Toralians’ slight stature.
The Omnians kept a respectable distance from Suntred, as she led them forward. True to expectations, not another Toralian was seen along the way.
The Omnians entered an expansive bridge, much greater than that of the Freedom. And unlike the city-ship, this one was crowded with positions, every one of them occupied.
Mickey, for one, was disappointed. He’d expected more automation. Is this because of Artifice? he asked himself.
“Welcome aboard, Alex Racine,” Sargut greeted the alien leader. Like Suntred, he was trying to control his shock at the immense mass of most of the Omnians. “You’ve met Suntred, our fleet liaison. This is Subcommander Tormheth.”
The Omnians heard Sargut’s whistling tones, and then his words were repeated by the stilted translation program.
“Thank you, Commander Sargut,” Alex replied. “You’ve met me and most of these individuals.” He quickly introduced Julien, Mickey, Miriam, Luther, Z, Miranda, and Miriamelle.
“Your pardon, Alex Racine, you speak of eight, but we count seven,” Tormheth said. His comment bordered on an accusation, and Suntred glanced warily at Sargut.
“It’s good to know that we observe the same numbering system,” Alex replied pleasantly. “Miriamelle is number eight. She resides inside one of those devices,” he said, pointing to the equipment that floated on a pallet behind Luther.
Alex’s team stepped aside, and the Toralians observed a set of boxes that were tightly integrated with cabling.
“Miriamelle is one of your digital sentients?” Suntred asked. “Does Miriamelle not wish to walk free, as the others do?”
“Miriamelle is a sister,” Julien replied. “One of many in our fleet. Their story is long and complicated and best left to another time. Suffice it to say that the sisters protect the Omnian fleet from malicious signals and code, such as that which infects your ship.”
Tormheth and Suntred sucked air through their sharp teeth, whistling as it did. Even Sargut was tested not to display surprise at what the aliens professed to have accomplished.
“May we proceed with our investigation?” Alex asked.
“One more question,” Tormheth requested. “You introduced Z and Miranda. Why weren’t they seen on the bridge during our first exchange?”
“When was the last attempt made to remove Artifice’s program?” Miranda said, repeating the question she had asked the Toralians during their first exchange.
Tormheth’s mouth fell open. Then it snapped shut. He eyed Miranda’s massive figure, and he accused, “You don’t appear as you did before.”
“Is it not the prerogative of Toralian females to occasionally change their outfits?” Miranda asked sweetly. “Cer
tainly, my partner appreciates it.” She turned toward Z and pursed her lips at him.
Suntred issued a gentle whistling sound by quickly inhaling and exhaling across her teeth.
Tormheth regained his mental balance and asked, “Is this your entire contingent?”
“A pilot is aboard our traveler. He’ll remain there,” Alex replied.
“You say traveler, Alex Racine,” Suntred noted, “but it is one of your fighters, as you told us.”
“Yes, it’s as I said,” Alex replied. “We have no need for a traditional shuttle. Our travelers’ interiors can seat and accommodate a multitude of personnel for hundreds of cycles, if necessary.”
“Without refueling?” Tormheth asked incredulously.
“Without refueling,” Alex replied. He wasn’t prepared to say anything more.
“Remember our agreement, Alex,” Sargut said, waving him toward the bridge positions. “Investigate without tampering until approval is given.”
“That’s understood,” Alex replied. Rather than approach the bridge consoles, Alex stepped aside and let his team work.
“Who’s the senior tech?” Z asked the console operators.
When the translation was heard, a crew member looked to his officer for permission to reply, and Sargut sharply issued an order. Hierarchy was dissolved for the purposes of helping the Omnians.
While Mickey, Miriam, Luther, and Z investigated the bridge operations, data storage devices, and comm connections, Julien paid attention to the conversations. He was waiting for the subject of the translation program to be mentioned.
Miranda took up a post beside Alex, which Sargut and Suntred noted with interest.
Tormheth couldn’t be bothered with monitoring the leaders. He was trying to pay attention to every question and answer between the Omnians and the console operators.
The Toralian techs had removed nearly every panel that covered the lower positions of their consoles, exposing the conduits, power systems, and storage devices. After explaining every device and connection, they offered to label each item for the Omnians, unaware that the SADEs had constructed system diagrams from the techs’ instructions.
At one point, conversation between the two races halted, and the SADEs and Mickey communed.
“Is there a problem, Alex?” Sargut asked. Now that the others were quiet, his words could be picked up by the translation app. He’d taken up a position on the opposite side of the alien leader from Miranda.
“No,” Alex replied offhand. He tapped his temple twice to indicate what was happening.
“You’re implying your Omnians are speaking to one another through their minds,” Sargut pursued.
“That’s correct,” Alex answered.
Sargut glanced toward Suntred, who stood next to him. She, like the entire bridge, had heard the conversation between her commander and the alien leader. Her expression mirrored the dumbfounded one of Sargut.
Julien broke from the implant-comm conversation, and said, “We’re ready to begin the installation, Alex.”
“But you’ve touched nothing,” Tormheth declared. He suspected subterfuge on the part of the Omnians. Every tech touched and tinkered before announcing their analysis.
Julien collected a portable holo-vid from the sled on which Miriamelle rested. He walked to the center of the bridge, held it out, and fed it the schematics that Mickey and the SADEs had generated.
When the display sprung up, the bridge officers and crew members gathered around, whistling their admiration and awe. Several poked fingers into the projection and were delighted to discover they could manipulate it.
Julien let the Toralians play with the display. They were intent on comparing it to their actual systems. When their conversation died down, they respectfully stepped back.
“Is this image accurate?” Sargut asked.
“Completely, Commander, in every detail,” an officer replied.
Sargut looked at Alex. Events were moving too rapidly, and he felt they were beyond his control. He’d envisioned an investigation taking several cycles, during which he’d get to know the Omnians better. Instead, the aliens arrive in a shuttle, which isn’t a shuttle. They talk with their minds. They build schematics that they can display from observing his techs speak to them, and they carry one of their digital entities, whom they call Miriamelle, in a box.
“Should we return another cycle?” Alex asked. He was sensitive to the silence that had overtaken the bridge.
It was the alien leader’s question that prompted Sargut’s decision. That the leader was offering to leave and return, allowing Sargut to ponder, made him realize that his decision would remain the same. He was tired of living under Artifice’s constant threat. Grand Commander Tranimus had given his commanders permission to meet the Omnians and pursue a means of freeing the Toralians.
“Stay and proceed,” Sargut said, straightening his thin frame. “What do you need us to do?”
“Have your individuals step away from their consoles, unless they’re asked for tools or parts,” Alex said.
Sargut issued the order, and the Toralian bridge crew joined Alex, Miranda, Sargut, and Suntred at the rear of the bridge. Tormheth stood indecisively in the center until he heard his commander’s hiss, and then he too joined the others.
Luther led the grav sled until it was close to the bridge’s center console. Miriamelle’s box was placed within a cabinet along with her delay structure. The Toralian techs had identified the primary storage device that held Artifice’s code. Only one connector, carrying both power and comm lines, was attached to that device.
Carefully, Luther opened the line in two places about fifteen centimeters apart.
Sargut issued a low whistle to cease the crews’ agitation, which had become audible.
“We need a sample of this type of line,” Mickey said, pointing to the connector’s comm line, which Miriam had identified.
A Toralian tech hurried to a cabinet on the starboard side of the bridge. He pulled out a coil and proffered it to Mickey.
“Thank you,” Z said, taking the comm line instead. He stuck an end in his mouth, ground on it with his teeth, and sampled the metal. Then Z and Julien designed a program to allow the Omnians’ nanites to bond with the alien metal sample. They passed the completed code to Miriamelle via a transmitter connected to her box. Additionally, the engineering team had provided her box with a series of cables to enable her to connect to almost anything the aliens might offer.
When Miriam received Miriamelle’s assent that she was ready, Miriam picked up two leads from Miriamelle’s box and touched them to the two open spots on the Toralian comm line.
The Toralian tech, who’d provided the comm line to test, had crept close to view the operation. He watched the ends of the lines from the Omnians’ box touch the bridge comm line and merge with it. He leapt back in surprise and stared in shock at his senior officer and then his commander.
“Don’t judge him too harshly, Commander,” Alex said. “After all, we’re aliens.”
Alex’s remarks went a long way toward easing the emotional pressure the Toralians felt. He could hear their soft whistling, and his ears and the algorithms, which were operating within his twin implants, were becoming attuned to the subtle differences. The latest sounds were ones of relief, if not amusement.
The Toralians looked around in confusion, and Alex pointed to the box embedded under the bridge console.
“Cut the Toralian comm line,” Alex ordered, and Luther quickly snipped it.
The Toralians, hearing Alex’s words translated, winced in anticipation of their lives ending, but nothing happened.
“Now, Commander, we have to activate Artifice’s progr
am,” Alex said, “and we need to do this without Miriamelle investigating its code.” His directions confused the Toralians, and they stared at him in a stupor.
“Alex, please explain,” Sargut requested, retrieving his wits.
“We want you to provoke Artifice’s code to activate,” Alex explained. “When it executes, it’ll leave the bridge storage device, and go through Miriamelle.”
“And she’ll be able to stop it?” Sargut asked. His dark eyes pleaded with Alex for affirmation. He visualized his ship and crew becoming space debris.
“Yes, Commander, the code will not get past me,” Miriamelle said and sent simultaneously. She’d obtained a copy of the translation program and was performing double duty — sending in Toralian over the bridge comm system and in Omnian via her transmitter. “Either I’ll capture it or, if necessary, I’ll eliminate it when I delete myself.”
“But aren’t you sentient?” Suntred asked. She couldn’t believe the digital entity was willing to sacrifice herself to save a race she’d never met until now.
“There are greater things than my existence,” Miriamelle sent. “The sisters fight for the fleet. The fleet needs allies.”
A tech whispered to his superior, who scowled and whispered in return.
“Yes?” Sargut urged the officer.
“The idea has been proposed that if an ancillary program attached to one of our systems is deleted, Artifice’s code will be activated,” the officer replied.
“Choose one, Subcommander Tormheth,” Sargut ordered.
Tormheth regarded Alex and asked, “Does this need to be coordinated?”
“How long will it take?” Alex asked.
Tormheth paused to consider how to convey the amount of time to Alex. “About the time between your landing and your appearance on the bridge,” he explained.
“Negative, Subcommander,” Alex replied.
Tormheth issued an order, and two techs hurried from the bridge.
The Omnians and the Toralians stood or sat in silence, awaiting the outcome.
Before the bridge techs returned, Miriamelle announced, “I have it, Alex. Incidentally, the master code is dangerous, but it’s not malicious in nature. I’ve contained it in one of my copies.”