Triumph's Ashes (The Cassidy Chronicles Volume 5)

by Adam Gaffen

  “But we haven’t caught any video except this one.” Seabolt sent a signal to a screen and it lit, showing leaves.

  “It should be approaching...now.”

  A suspiciously cat-like head appeared through the leaves, looked away, then turned directly at the rig. The eyes were open wide enough for Cass to see the blue irises and circular pupils as the ‘cat’ turned to peer into the camera.

  The recording paused.

  “See that?”

  “I don’t believe it, but yes. Curiosity? Shiny new thing?”

  Seabolt’s head shook. “I thought so the first time I watched.” She restarted the recording.

  The ‘cat’ tilted its head, so much like a Terrestrial cat Cass couldn’t help a chuckle. What it did next, though, was stunning.

  “Play that again!”

  Seabolt did.

  “Again!”

  It was no different the third time.

  “It opened the camera?”

  “Exactly. It wasn’t accidental, either.”

  What Cass had seen was the ‘cat’ reaching with a paw, or maybe she should just call them hands and be done with it, for the rig. Carefully it picked it up, reaching with the other hand to free it from its restraints, and pulled it from the branch. Once free the ‘cat’ turned it over and around, judging from the tumbling view, before settling on the camera lens. A hand came into view, needle-like claws extended, and then the recording ended.

  “That was not an accidental sort of, ‘Oh, what’s this?’ curiosity,” said Seabolt. “Did you see the ‘cat’ look around before approaching it?”

  “And examine the whole thing,” Cass agreed. “Planning. No wonder we haven’t seen much of them, until they wanted us to.”

  “Definitely intelligent. The question is how intelligent, and can we communicate?”

  “Keep our people away from anywhere we think they live,” said Cass, standing. “If they spot one they’re to do nothing stupid, like try to catch one.”

  “Got it, Commander.”

  “Now I’m going to go tell our Captain we have to create some First Contact protocols. I’m sure she’s going to be thrilled.”

  “THE SECOND FUSION REACTOR’S online aboard the habitat,” Cass was reporting to Alley.

  “I’ll bet Jolly’s thrilled to have more power,” Alley smirked. As soon as the first plant had been installed and activated, the Alpha AI for the habitat had been initialized. Fjolnir had almost immediately announced he preferred to be called ‘Jolly’, which came as a bit of a relief to most of the colonists who would be dealing with him on a regular basis. While he oversaw the bootstrapping of the fabber kernel he was also busy using the existing bots to install the second of three fusion reactors which Enterprise had brought along to power the process. An annie plant would have to wait until the fabber was a bit further along.

  “He is,” agreed Cass. “Currently cubage is over two thousand meters, and the fabber is, well, growing.”

  “That’s too weird. I’m glad they’re hardwired to only do one copy, otherwise they’d take over the universe.”

  “As long as they can get power.”

  “There is that.” Alley sipped her coffee and made a face. It had gotten cold. “And tell me, Commander Genius, why can’t we figure out a way to keep coffee hot for more than ten minutes?”

  “I’ll get right on it, Captain.”

  “Seriously, it sounds like everything’s going well.” When Cass didn’t respond immediately, Alley pressed. “Things are going well, aren’t they? Or, no, wait. There’s something you’re not telling me.”

  “Maybe it’s easier if I show you.” Cass pulled up the ‘cat’ footage and silently played it for Alley.

  “So how do you sign a treaty with a cat?” said Alley, immediately grasping the problem.

  “Exactly. We don’t have any sort of rules for a first contact.”

  “No? Kendra didn’t think of it?”

  “She thought of it, but the odds were so long we’d find any life I kinda talked her out of needing one,” admitted Cass.

  “It’s up to us?”

  “Looks like,” Cass agreed.

  “Any thoughts, XO?“

  “Nothing in particular, Captain.”

  “Then I think we ask our AI for data.”

  Cass tried to object but wasn’t quite quick enough. “That might not be –”

  “Minerva.”

  “Captain.”

  “What data do you have on first contact protocols?”

  “First Contact protocols have existed in speculative fiction for over two centuries. The first known...”

  Twenty minutes later Alley had enough.

  “Minerva. Stop.”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  “Did you get all that, XO?”

  “I tried to warn you,” Cass admonished.

  “You did. Did you get it, though?”

  “I think it boils down to, it’s their planet. We minimize our intrusion on their space; maybe we can do most of the building underground? And we wait for them to approach us. Given their curiosity, I suspect we won’t have to wait long.”

  “Do we know the local equivalent of catnip?”

  “No, but I’ll bet Phaedra can find it. In the meantime, I know we have some growing aboard if we want, no, forget I said anything. We don’t want to introduce anything Terrestrial we can avoid. Bad enough we’re bringing our microbial loads.”

  “I trust you and Commander Seabolt to work out those details,” Alley said. “Anything else?”

  “No.”

  “Then I think it’s just about time for shift change.”

  “Aye, Captain. I’ll get with Datu and start it rolling, and then I have a birthday party to attend.”

  “Lisa, right?”

  “Yes. I can’t believe she’s five!” Cass checked her ‘plant for the time, then hurriedly stood. “Got to run! Kendra’s going to send a Q-Net message, and I promised I would get it to Lisa.”

  Alley shooed her away. “Go!”

  THE HUMAN BODY IS EXTRAORDINARILY adaptable, as was being proven again on Freyr. Each ‘day’ on the planet lasted over 250 hours, divided equally into dark and light periods. Humans, by contrast, were conditioned by countless generations of evolution to a 24 hour day. The practical upshot was their sleep patterns were totally and hopelessly out of sync with the planetary cycle and would remain so.

  It didn’t stop them from maintaining their usual routines, however. Crew who were used to being on Mid watch stayed on a Mid watch schedule. The Night watch crew stayed on a similar schedule. Local ‘day’ and ‘night’ were simply something to note in the logs everyone kept.

  In this the new human residents of Freyr were mimicking the local fauna, who equally ignored light and dark, sleeping when tired. Many hours of after-shift discussion had touched on the topic, with Willerman speculating the length of day and night forced the evolution of telepathy demonstrated by the Freyr’s goats.

  “It just makes sense,” he had argued. “If you’re asleep, and something is coming to eat you, you have to be able to wake up or you’re not going to reproduce.”

  “Four ears, Dave,” Niew said.

  “I’m sure they play into it, but hearing doesn’t always work, Breena. No, I’ll bet we find telepathy in most species here on Freyr, at least until we find the prime apex predator, and even then we might have it. They would have evolved from something smaller, after all.”

  Niew shuddered.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Just thinking about those things we’ve detected in the ocean. Big swimming things with teeth and telepathy? No, thank you!”

  But the conversations were stilled, for the ‘night’. Enterprise was heavily weighted towards Day and Mid watches, with the Night watch crew just more than the minimum needed. As a direct result, most of the crew supervising the establishment of the colony, and all of the colonists, were used to sleeping at night, for values of night. Even Susana and Deone
, who had been recording as much of the colonization as they could find time for, had to sleep occasionally.

  Nobody saw the five ‘cats’ creep into the encampment and spend a happy half-hour investigating everything they could reach.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Council Chamber, Artemis City

  Stardate 12008.14

  “How progresses your planning, Michael?”

  Atkinson’s head shot up from the reports he was examining to find Phalkon leaning on his open hatch.

  “Today is the day, is it not?” she asked.

  “Yes, First, I mean, yes, Tal.”

  Belatedly he stood and gestured for her to enter. She looked around and decided to perch on the least-cluttered corner of his desk.

  “Sorry,” he said, futilely trying to clear a more traditional seat. “It’s been crazy around here and I don’t usually have people in my office.”

  “Fine, fine,” she said with a smile. “But we move today?”

  “We do. The three warrens we hit first were all successful, so we’re not doing a second round. We’re calculating the proper volume of BZ we need for the cubic in Tycho Under, based on the results.”

  “How will you deliver it?”

  “Same basic method. Attach the gas to their emergency supplies, then cut the network connection.”

  “What will you do about the other connections?”

  “Other connections, Tal?”

  “The transport tubes, specifically. Those lead right back to Artemis City.”

  “Ah. If we close the emergency airlocks between Tycho and Artemis, we should prevent any of the BZ from filtering back. We can also increase the pressure in the Artemis exchangers by a fraction of a PSI; not enough to do any damage, or particularly tax the system, but sufficient to provide overpressure. Any leakage from Tycho would then be pressed back into Tycho.”

  “Along with fresh air, which will dilute the BZ.”

  Atkinson frowned. “A valid point.”

  “I don’t want to pretend I know your job better than you, Michael, but have you considered a more direct method?”

  “How do you mean?”

  Phalkon’s eyes lit with eagerness.

  “Put the gas aboard a frigate, fly to Tycho under a flag of truce, claiming a desire to negotiate a settlement, then release the BZ into their system when the frigate connects to replenish.”

  “The Federation will shoot it down.”

  Phalkon shook her head. “Flag of truce. They’ll honor it; they’re stupid, or naïve, enough to do so.”

  “And when we break the truce by gassing them?”

  “What are they going to do, Michael?” Tal scoffed. “They have escalated as far as they dare. The concept of intentionally causing civilian deaths is abhorrent to them. They’ll protest, of course, but, wait.”

  “What?”

  She held up a restraining hand. “An idea.”

  He waited while she processed.

  “Michael. Call up the schematics for Tycho Under’s spaceport.”

  He did, and asked, “What are you looking for?”

  “Tycho’s spaceport is small, but busy, mostly with cargo. The cargo has to get to the surface somehow, and they’re not going to use passenger lifts.”

  “No, there are larger lifts under each hangar.”

  “And I’ll bet they were added after the ‘lifeboat’ concept was abandoned, so they won’t have the same sort of emergency bulkheads the older installations do.”

  Atkinson called up more records. “You’re right, but I don’t see the point.”

  “See if this makes any sense, then. We land, release the BZ, and the city dies. Then, after we’re sure they’re all dead, we detonate the frigate. Plant a bomb aboard, big enough to reach the cargo lift. The city depressurizes, since there’s nobody left alive to manually trigger the emergency measures, venting all the BZ and the evidence to space. We claim that the rebellion sabotages our ship and manages to kill Tycho.”

  “So we put the blame for their deaths on them?”

  “Exactly!”

  “Rough on the crew of the frigate, though.”

  Phalkon looked unconcerned. “Sacrifices must be made. But, if it bothers you, perhaps we can fly one remotely? Or allow the crew to depart on the surface before the bomb explodes.”

  Atkinson was nodding. “It will cost us a ship, but it’s a small price. Um, Tal, there is one other issue.”

  “What?”

  “The Empress is expecting us to move against the rebels today. Tomorrow at the latest. This will take longer to arrange than we have time.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Michael. I’ll tell her of your brilliant plan to deflect the blame for the destruction of Tycho onto the rebels, totally discrediting them, and she’ll be happy to give you the time you need.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Of course I’m sure. Would I lie to you?”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Habitat Njord

  Stardate 12008.15

  “This war isn’t going to last forever.”

  “No,” agreed Whitmore. “They never do. Eventually one side simply loses the will to continue.”

  “Exactly. And when Artemis reaches that point, we need to be ready to pivot back to our primary mission of exploration while creating a sustainable form of government for the Terran Federation.”

  “Not asking much, are you Admiral?”

  Kendra had the decency to acknowledge the point with a nod.

  “And you’re assuming we’re not the ones to lose the will,” added Tamara’s avatar. She and Kyra were back on their home worlds of Ceres and Titan; as the ancient politician once said, “All politics is local.” They both felt the need to be home to deal with complaints and the daily business of governing. It didn’t hamper their abilities to be part of the planning. Since they were part of the Federation now, the entire suite of Q-Net technologies had been provided to them, allowing their virtual presence.

  “Problems, Tam?”

  “Maybe,” admitted the Moderator of the Miner’s Guild. “Vesta is still resisting the move to join.”

  “Anything you can’t handle?”

  She shook her head. “No. They can bitch and moan, but I don’t think it’s going to make a difference in the long run. They need the rest of the Guild more than we need them; Vesta’s a big rock, but it’s not particularly laden with commodities.”

  “Then I’ll let you cope with it. Kyra, any similar grousing?”

  “No. Our colony’s always been all about the tech, and I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised at some of the tweaks the maniacs in the labs are thinking of trying out.”

  “Please don’t blow up your planet,” pleaded Kendra.

  Kyra laughed. “We haven’t yet.”

  “There’s always a first time,” muttered Whitmore.

  Kendra ignored the comment. “Kyra, Tam. You two are going to be the leads on the creation-of-a-government project, but I want you to keep me in the loop. You know what my ideal is.”

  Both holograms nodded.

  “Diana has been kind enough to forward all the information she could find which directly relates to the fictional Federation and its charter,” Tamara said. “I’m still working my way through it.”

  “Same.”

  “Not a problem; we have time. And we’re agreed on my other suggestion?”

  “It’s only fair,” said Kyra, to which Tamara added, “We’re agreed.”

  “Good. I don’t know when I might be able to make that happen, but as soon as I can, I will. Let’s move on to infrastructure.”

  Kyran groaned. They’d been an integral part of the process which led from Diana to Njord and remembered the long days and nights.

  “Hecate, Diana. Drop in, please.”

  Two more holograms appeared.

  “Admiral,” said Diana.

  “Hi Kendra! Are we going to talk about the new ships? And expansion plans? I’ve been thinking about it, and I’d love to
share my ideas, I really think they’ll help!”

  “Yes, Hecate,” Kendra answered. “In a moment. Diana, have you had a chance to review the plans? Any objections?”

  “No, Admiral. I have taken the liberty to make a few minor adjustments, but I found them to be both sound and logical. I was pleasantly surprised.”

  “Hey! I worked hard on those!”

  “Yes, Admiral. Minerva told me. And of her assistance.”

  “Hmmph. Diana, let’s show them.”

  A holographic image appeared in the center of the compartment, rotating slowly. It was a long, narrow, rough-looking structure, with bays and clamps and cradles along its length.

  “This is what we’re calling Phase 1 of Vulcan’s Forge,” Kendra said. “It’s a permanent orbiting construction yard, probably in Martian orbit though a Martian Lagrangian point will work just as well. I know, Davie, Mars isn’t part of the Federation.”

  Whitmore nodded fractionally.

  “When Artemis folds, we’ll offer them a place, but Vulcan’s Forge works with or without them. It just needs to be near the Belt.”

  “Why?” asked Kyran.

  “Raw materials. The Forge is intended to be the central construction point for all orbital, interplanetary, and interstellar spacecraft. It is designed to grow indefinitely, in three dimensions, to allow for virtually unlimited expansion in production to meet increased demand.”

  “What’s wrong with me?” shrilled Hecate.

  “Nothing at all,” Kendra soothed. “You are going to have an even more vital job, which I’ll get to in a minute.”

  “Okay,” Hecate replied, not entirely convinced.

  “Why not just keep using fabbers?” said Kyran.

  “We plan to use them for most of the shipbuilding,” Kendra said. “But we also need a place to put them, and to build more fabbers. Plus the Forge will have integral R&D spaces, habitations, everything a construction crew will need.”

  “Asteroids?”

  “Yes, Tam. The Guild is going to find that being part of the Federation will keep you quite busy, supplying the Forge. And the larger the Forge grows, the bigger the demand.”