by C H Gideon
The little scientist smiled modestly. “It was Geroux’s idea. I’m glad it worked.”
“Let’s deliver Geroux’s Easter egg.” Reynolds led the team to the cloaked Pod, and they climbed inside. With a last glance at the comatose soldiers, he flipped them off and turned to L’Eliana. “Let’s go.”
Chapter Fourteen
“What’s an Easter egg?” Maddox asked.
“Oh, I know that one,” L’Eliana said over her shoulder as she guided the Pod through the stratosphere. “Easter was a religious observance by bird-worshipers on Earth. They commemorated the day a huge rodent stole their pre-hatched young, tortured them with boiling water and vinegar-based pigments, and then distributed them to its followers. The highlight of the event is the ritualized consumption of something called a ‘chocolate bunny.’”
“That’s not quite right,” Reynolds said with a smirk. “You might want to check your sources. In this case, an Easter egg is a piece of hidden code that is activated when the user inadvertently completes the right sequence of events. For the Reichof, that sequence of events was trying to kill us and steal our stuff.”
“Ah, I get it.” Maddox nodded in satisfaction. “If they’d played fair, they would not have been punished.”
“Exactly.”
“But what is it?” Jiya asked. “What’s going to happen?”
“Geroux and I created the phony weapons system,” Takal explained. “When the Easter egg is triggered, a virus she planted in the code they downloaded will destroy the ‘weapons’ specs. So, the device they thought they stole will—poof—disappear. The code will also worm its way into their offensive systems, creating switches that can turn off their weapons. The planetary ring we traded them will protect their homeworld and their ships while they are near the planet, but if they attempt any offensive actions, the Easter egg code will activate and render them powerless.”
Maddox’s eyes widened. Jiya and Ka’nak looked impressed.
Takal chuckled. “That authenticator you borrowed from Quardle gave us the keys to the system. They really shouldn’t leave those lying around. And they should probably change their password.”
A few hours later, the Reynolds soared through an open Gate into unknown territory.
Ensign Alcott swore. “Sir, the Gate malfunctioned again! We’re nowhere near Serifity!”
“Don’t tell me where we aren’t,” Reynolds said, calmly. “Tell me where we are.”
“Yes, sir,” Ria replied. “We’re about three light-years from Serifity. They call this system Ipian. According to Taneral’s database, it’s uninhabited.”
“Reynolds, Takal here.” The scientist’s voice came through the speakers at Comm’s position. “I see from the logs that last jump didn’t go as planned. I can use the tualinton and phorentum we’ve collected to create some new modules and start repairing the Gate drive. It won’t work perfectly—we still need a couple other elements—but I think I can improve on the current performance.”
“Then do it,” Reynolds said. “Because current performance is unacceptable. We can’t be flying wherever the space winds take us.”
“The thing is, it would be best if we can land,” Takal said. “I’ll need to access the Gate drive. I can do that via spacewalk, but it’s faster and safer to do it on land.”
“Can it wait until we return to Serifity?” Reynolds asked. He wasn’t sure letting the old scientist outside the ship in free-fall was a wise plan.
“If we can get there,” Ria said, darkly.
“As the ensign said, navigation is iffy at this point,” Takal confirmed. “If we can find somewhere nearby so we don’t have to make another jump...”
“We’re in an uninhabited system, so this might be our best bet,” Jiya said, working the scans. “I’m getting no energy signatures on any of the planets. Ipian Two has good air and the appropriate gravity. There doesn’t appear to be a sentient race.”
“We might want to double-check that,” Maddox said. “Isn’t that what we thought about Lanteral?”
Jiya nodded. “That was what Taneral’s database said, but when we scanned, we picked up Pornath’s cook fires. I’m not getting anything here. There’s a fire on the northern continent, but it appears to be a wildfire. Likely ignited by lightning.”
“Scan the planet for a safe place to land,” Reynolds said. “Launch probes.”
“There’s an island in the southern sea that looks pretty good,” Jiya said after a few minutes. She pointed at the landmass displayed on the screen. “There don’t appear to be any large predators, and there’s a big plain right here that would accommodate the ship.”
“Probes show no threats,” Maddox reported.
“Take us down, Ensign,” Reynolds said.
A vast field of rusty-orange grass stretched to low, forested hills. Small rodents poked their heads up around the edges of the field, clearly startled by the massive object that had landed on their home. The Reynolds truly looked out of place.
“Those things aren’t dangerous, are they?” Ka’nak asked, pausing on the ramp.
“They’re so tiny!” Geroux said, running down the ramp to get a closer look. “Cute and fuzzy! Wook at his wittle pink nose!”
“There are a lot of them,” the warrior said. “They could overwhelm a single crewmember in a flash. I suggest we travel in pairs.”
“No one should leave the immediate area,” Jiya said. “We’re here to fix the ship, not take a vacation. Set up a perimeter.”
“I could use a vacation,” Ka’nak mused as they placed sensors. “But my idea of a vacation destination bears no resemblance to this planet.”
“Yeah, you’d prefer the fighting pits of Lariest to this pristine wilderness,” Jiya said, shaking her head. She took a deep breath. “This is beautiful. Smell those flowers!”
Once they’d established a defensive perimeter, Takal took a team from maintenance to the Gate drive. Geroux worked with engineering to fabricate parts from the new materials they’d collected. Asya set up a rotating schedule to allow the entire crew a few hours outside in the fresh air and sunshine. At the end of each day, the core crew met near the ship’s ramp for a meal and debriefing.
“This place would be fabulous for R and R,” Maddox said. “Maybe we should stay longer once the repairs are complete. We could do a little exploring. I heard the guys down in propulsion talking about a kayak trip. They think the printers could produce a decent boat.”
Reynolds shook his head. “No, we need to get home. There will be plenty of time once we return to High Tortuga. An unexplored planet is a great place to lose a few red-shirts. Not worth the risk.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” the general said. “I wouldn’t have approved it if I’d been in charge, either. But that’s the beauty of not being in command. I don’t have to make the unpopular decisions.”
At dinner on the second night, Takal was in a towering rage. “Those ham-handed idiots! They broke the flux continuity devisor we just printed!” The maintenance bot replacement program wasn’t giving them sufficient numbers to do the work. They’d had to count on what Reynolds referred to as “meatbags” to do the bulk of the work.
“Uncle, we can make more,” Geroux said. She looked at the rest of the crew. “He’s frustrated. The repair just isn’t coming along like he’d planned. There are so many little fiddly bits. But the tech printers are a delight to use. I design a component once and print out as many as I want. Converting the agroprinter was a stroke of genius.”
“Exactly what we’d expect from Takal,” Reynolds said, raising his glass. “That’s why Jiya recommended him—and you—in the first place.” He glanced at the first officer. “I certainly was lucky when you walked onto my ship.”
Jiya smiled. “We were both lucky. If it weren’t for you, I’d still be schlepping a cab around Lariest, wondering what my father would do next to destroy my life. Now, I’m out here seeing the universe.”
“Literally,” Asya said, grinning. “
It sounds like an advertising slogan, but we’re really doing it.”
“Speaking of seeing the universe,” Ria said hesitantly. “How long is it going to take to get home? I mean, our maximum jump—once the Gate is repaired—is ten thousand light-years. It’s going to take forever!”
“Not forever,” Takal said, losing his anger in the delight of calculating. “10k jumps mean we’ll need to make a hundred thousand jumps to get back to our galaxy. The duration of the trip depends on how quickly we can make those jumps. Let’s say we can do ten an hour. If we jump around the clock, that’s only…hmm.” He paused, thinking. “That’s only four hundred and sixteen days. Slightly more than a standard year!”
“A year?” Ria wailed.
“We could make it longer,” Maddox said. “Enjoy a few stops along the way, see the sights.”
Ria moaned.
“What’s your hurry?” Maddox asked. “It’s not like we’re going back to the Chain Galaxy. I mean, it doesn’t really matter if we’re here or Reynolds’ Interdiction or halfway between. It’s all new to us.”
Ria hung her head. “I just want to go shopping,” she whispered. “I haven’t seen a mall in forever.”
“How many jumps can we do in quick succession?” Asya asked, ignoring the younger female’s complaints. “There must be an upper limit on consecutive jumps. Otherwise, an AI ship like this could go anywhere. Just jump, jump, jump all day long.”
“If we can get enough polybdinum,” Takal said. “I might be able to extend the length of the jump.” He sat back, pulling his lower lip as he thought. After a few seconds, he pushed up his sleeve and started tapping his wrist comp.
“I managed a single Gate of nearly one million light-years when I came to your galaxy. I don’t know if your soft and squishy bodies can handle such a jump, but that’s your target, Takal. We can Gate once a day, a million light-years each, and in three months, we’re home. We’ll cross a huge section of the universe, collecting as much data as we can for the day while we recover and repower the Gate drive.”
“Speaking of seeing the universe,” Asya said, glancing at Ria, “what’s on your bucket list?” When the young female didn’t answer, she looked around the table. “Anyone? How about you, Maddox? Someplace wild and unexplored?”
“Well, since I can’t gamble anymore—at least not with money—I have to get my thrills somewhere else,” the general replied. “I’d like to do a low-orbit free-fall. I had to give that up when I took on more responsibility in the Lariest military, but now, I’m only responsible for myself.”
“What about the Reynolds?” Jiya asked.
“No, don’t get me wrong,” Maddox said. “I take my responsibilities on the ship very seriously. But an orbital free-fall would be no worse than boarding an alien ship. When I made general, I was forbidden by Lariest military regulations to take unnecessary risks. Reynolds is not a dictator. He doesn’t put those kinds of barriers around our lives.”
“I’d prefer you not kill yourself,” Reynolds said, “but you only live once.” He hadn’t realized the general craved excitement. He made a note to include him in more combat missions. As a leader, he felt called to help his people grow, not hem them in.
“When I go anywhere, I’m careful and prepared,” Maddox said. “But really, it’s riskier to cross President Lemaire Boulevard at rush hour than to make a low-orbit jump.” He stared at the horizon for a moment, then shook himself. “How about you, Asya? What’s your dream?”
“I love to travel,” she replied. “It’s why I joined the Loranian service. I definitely want to see as much of Reynolds’ galaxy as I can. If I had to pick one thing, I’d like to see the military headquarters. What do they call it? Starfleet Command?”
“That’s not what we call it,” Reynolds said with a grin. “But you’ll see the real thing at High Tortuga. How about you, Ka’nak?”
“I have already fought in the pits of Dal’las Tri,” the big male said. “That was the top of my list for many years. Is there something similar in High Tortuga?”
“I’m sure we can find you somewhere to fight,” Reynolds said. “The Yollins would make formidable opponents. Probably the four-legged versions since they’re more sturdy.”
“Joining the Reynolds has given all of us a chance to try so many new things,” Geroux commented. “I need to make a better list.”
No one else volunteered an answer for a while, and they sat in silence as the sun set and darkness fell. Insects filled the air with their buzzing and whirring. The breeze picked up. The ship’s external lights flickered on, providing just enough illumination for the crew to return to the ship without tripping in a rodent hole.
As they climbed the ramp, the crew said their goodnights and headed to their berths. Reynolds sighed. He would stand watch on the bridge. Not because he was worried about what was out there—he had a guard set and sensors keeping watch—but because he didn’t sleep. He wondered if having a biological body would have been easier if it did all the things real biological bodies did. Like eat for sustenance. And sleep.
He grinned as he swung onto the deserted bridge. He’d heard the complaints after Ka’nak used the head. There were advantages to being an android.
“You’re pretty chipper,” XO said as Reynolds dropped into the captain’s chair. “Care to share the joke?”
“Just thinking about this body of mine.” He looked it over, using the big screen as a mirror. “It’s efficient, useful, and attractive. Hot, even. Do you ever wish you had one?”
“Me?” XO asked. “Hell, no. I mean, I have one. This whole ship is my body. I can go anywhere I want. Well, except for the parts Tactical controls. He really needs to clean up his act. Have you been in the weapons locker lately? That place is a pigsty.”
“Hey, I resemble that remark!” Tactical called. “If you can’t take the heat, stay out of the nuclear reactor.”
“How about you, Tactical?” Reynolds swung his seat to point it at the brash personality’s station. “Do you ever wish you had a body?”
Tactical was silent. Reynolds was about to reiterate the question when the other personality spoke, his voice low and almost unrecognizable. “I think if I could have a body like Ka’nak’s—strong and powerful—I might. I love shredding our enemies with my railguns and lasers and the ESD—oh, do I love the ESD! But to be able to use hands and arms to grab an angry, sweaty, vicious opponent and throw him down and grind his face into the KA-BOOM!” He laughed, a maniacal sound that echoed through the bridge and adjacent halls. “Had you going there, didn’t I? Why would I want a puny meatbag? I have a fucking ESD!”
The next morning, the repairs went swiftly. “He just needed to sleep on it,” Geroux told Jiya. “This morning, he was excited to get back to work. He’d figured out what was going wrong. We should be ready to lift by midday.”
The ship launched just after noon, local time. “If this weren’t so far from home, I’d want to come back here and explore,” Maddox said wistfully, watching the island dwindle in the viewscreen.
“There are plenty of unexplored planets in the Interdiction,” Reynolds said. “I’ve been gone too long, though, so I don’t want to waste any more time here. Takal says we’ll need to do another refit when we get the last of our materials. Maybe you can do some low-orbit free-falling then.” He shuddered dramatically. Jumping out of a perfectly good spaceship made no sense to him.
“Orbit achieved,” XO called. “Ready to set course.”
“Set course for Serifity,” Reynolds said.
“Coordinates laid in,” Ria reported. “Gate drive is powering up. All systems are green.”
“Open the Gate, Ensign,” Reynolds said.
“Acknowledged,” Ria replied. “Engaging in three...two…one…now.”
Space around them rippled and shimmied, and the Gate opened.
“Cross your fingers,” Jiya said, demonstrating.
“We don’t need luck,” Asya said. “We have the Reynolds.”
&n
bsp; “That’s the spirit,” Reynolds said. “Ensign, take us through.”
Chapter Fifteen
The Gate opened near Serifity, exactly where Ria had calculated they’d arrive. The Reynolds sailed through and assumed orbit around the planet.
“We’ll take you dirtside,” Reynolds told Taneral. “You can visit your ship. We’ll find out if your scientists have located our remaining requirements. Jiya and Maddox will bring down samples of the Melliferi food cubes and some of the extra minerals we collected as payment for your assistance.”
“There is no need for payment,” Taneral said hurriedly. “We owe you for saving Trefol.”
Reynolds waved that off. “Consider it a goodwill gift, then.” He turned to Asya. “You have the conn.”
“Aye, sir,” Asya replied. “I’d like to send the maintenance crew to Serifity for shore leave. They worked some long hours while the rest of us were relaxing on Ipian. And they’ll be hard at it next time we’re back here to do the final refit.”
“Excellent idea. Anyone who didn’t get a break there should get a day or two here.” He looked around the bridge. “But keep a competent crew on duty, as always.”
Taneral glared at Reynolds. “You are perfectly safe here! My People protect this planet and the space around it.”
“No offense meant, Taneral,” Reynolds said. “But I don’t relax a hundred percent unless I’m home in High Tortuga. Maddox, Jiya, with me. Comm, have Takal meet us at the Pods.”
“I’ll keep your ship safe,” Asya said. “Good luck with the scientists.”
San Roche piloted the Pod taking Reynolds, Jiya, Taneral, Maddox, Takal, and a bunch of rowdy maintenance techs down to Serifity. He landed them at the Grentoo airfield, the one they’d visited before. There were many more ships parked along the flight line.
“Is this normal?” Jiya asked Taneral as they emerged into the sunshine. The maintenance techs angled across the field toward a bar Taneral had pointed out.