by Richard Fox
“I know you said you didn’t want to be disturbed, sir, but I think you might want to come to the council chambers. We’re having a bit of situation here.”
“I’ll be right there.” Hale killed the connection, shaking his head. “It never ends.”
Shannon grinned at him. “Why I didn’t get into politics? I prefer to kill people quietly and without attribution.”
“It wasn’t by choice, believe me.” He glanced down at the tube, putting a hand on the cool metal.
“So,” Shannon said, leaning back in her chair. “What do you want me to do?”
“Run one. No more. I want to make sure it’s a viable…product before we move into full production. How long will it take?”
“Five minutes per, as long as the amino-composite generation tanks can keep pace. Once we get the process down, you’re looking at about 150 doughboys a day. A thousand a week, easy. Unless, of course, we run into any snags along the way. Then there’s also the problem of housing and feeding them. Have you figured that out yet?”
“It’s a work in progress,” Hale admitted.
“You’re the boss.”
Chapter 21
“That’s right, we’re enroute to another station,” Carson told West over the IR. “Apparently this all-powerful DIN doesn’t multitask very well.”
They’d followed the directional bot to the DIN Governance Node and were waiting in yet another line. The line was marked by red ropes, held up by chrome poles. This Node only had one kiosk, only one teller. There were only thirteen customers ahead of them, but the line wasn’t moving nearly as fast as the one at DIN Adjudication had.
West laughed through the connection. “According to Abendu, we should be at his friend’s place in a few minutes.”
Carson looked over the line again and shook her head. “Well, there’s definitely no rush. We’re not going anywhere. Do you know how much we’re going to get?”
“That’s the million-dollar question,” West said. “Abendu keeps telling us his friend has the best rates in town. Says we’re getting a good deal, not like I’d know if we weren’t.”
“So, how much?”
“According to Abendu, about 37,000 accruals. Now, whether that is a lot of money or not, your guess is as good as mine. Hell, they could be giving us two cents on the dollar and I wouldn’t have any idea. We’ll see after we get there, I guess.”
“I hear you,” Carson said. “Regardless, it will cover our fines at least. According to the idiot droid I talked to, we owe around 11,000.”
“Well, there is that. Any progress getting that pardoned?”
“We’re at a DIN Governance Node now, about ten minutes north of the bazaar. But I have a feeling we’re going to be here a while. See if you can scrounge up some edible food and I’ll contact you if anything changes.”
“Roger that, Chief. West out.”
“Progress?” Birch asked.
Carson nodded. “Well, we’ll be able to get the Valiant out of hock at least. It’s a step.”
“Now we just have to take the next one.”
“And who knows how long that’ll take,” Carson said, blowing out a frustrated breath.
The line moved three spaces over the next ten minutes and Carson felt herself growing more and more frustrated at the painfully slow bureaucracy that was the DIN.
“You know, for what basically amounts to the most advanced artificial intelligence I’ve ever seen, this place doesn’t seem to operate very efficiently,” Birch said.
“That’s the understatement of the century,” Carson said. “You’d think—”
“Excuse me,” a robotic voice said.
Carson turned to see a servitor droid standing beside them. The chrome plating covering his torso and shoulders was trimmed with red. Like the droid in Adjudication, its face was devoid of features, save for two eyes and a horizontal slit for its mouth. This droid, though, had a wide stripe of red and ran right to left, diagonally down its face.
“Yes?” Carson asked.
“May I see your identification and transit warrant, please?”
Here we go again, Carson thought with a sigh. “This is all I have.” She held up their temporary account chip.
The droid scanned the chip with a long four-jointed finger, a blue light sweeping back and forth. “Identification confirmed. Please step out of line and accompany me.”
“What do you mean, step out of line?” Carson asked. “I’m here to see the Nexus. Someone in charge.”
“Your request has been processed,” the droid said. “Please, step out of line and accompany me.”
“This is really starting to get on my nerves,” Carson said, ducking under the rope.
Birch followed, and the droid led them toward the front of the Nexus. A hidden door slid open in the wall to their right and the servitor droid led them through it.
The corridor on the other side stretched away from them as far as Carson could see. It was lit by red recessed lighting along the ceiling, bathing the corridor in an ominous red hue. They passed doors marked with alien lettering every few meters, and several minutes later, came to an intersection where the droid turned left and continued down an identical corridor.
“Where are you taking us?” Carson asked.
“Your request has been processed. Please accompany me.”
Carson groaned but let the matter drop. She doubted she’d get a straight answer, if any. It seemed the servitors, like everything else associated with the SI, operated within a very slim set of parameters.
“Well,” Birch said, beside her. “At least this place isn’t foreboding at all.”
Carson chuckled. “Yeah, not at all. Seems a little over-dramatic, don’t you think?”
“A little?” Birch asked, eyebrows raised. “What the hell does an advanced artificial intelligence have to be dramatic about?”
Two corridors, and five minutes later, they came to a dead end. A lone door, marked with the triple-triangle symbol, slid open as the servitor droid neared. Carson and Birch followed, stepping into a large circular room with a high domed ceiling.
The scent of burning incense was almost overwhelming. Bundles of multicolored flowers and gifts of all shapes and sizes littered the ground around a raised center dais that rose a meter off the floor.
“DIN Governance will be with you shortly,” the droid said, then backed out of the room. The door slid shut before Carson could ask anything further, leaving them alone in the strange room.
“Great,” Birch said. “It’s an AI temple. I hope we weren’t expected to bring offerings.”
Carson stepped into the room, moving around the dais. “What, do they treat them like gods or something?”
Before Birch could respond, the lights above dimmed and a separate beam of light shone down from an emitter in the middle of the ceiling, bathing the dais in soft blue-white light. The outline of an Ultari appeared, cybernetic enhancements covering half of its long face. Its right arm was completely robotic. A long red cloak, draped over its shoulder, clasped with the triple triangle pin, covered its loose-fitting black clothing, hanging almost to the ground.
The image flickered slightly as the Ultari looked down at the two humans, regarding them silently for several moments.
Carson cleared her throat. “DIN Governance, I presume?”
“I am the voice of Governance.” A glowing crystal tree materialized as the Ultari raised its holographic hand. The trunk floated off the ground and tendrils of roots swayed in an unfelt breeze. Branches veered into leaves that rippled with fractal patters. The tree pulsed as the alien spoke. “Your account information has not been previously recorded. Please state your identification.”
Carson took a deep breath. Finally, progress. “I’m Warrant Officer Katherine Carson, 1st Terra Nova Pathfinders Group. I represent the human colonists on the planet of Terra Nova and Earth.”
“Location designations not previously recorded. Human species designation not previously recorded
.”
“Of course they’re not,” Carson said. “That’s because this is the first time our species have met. Well, technically.”
“Data recorded. Human designation logged. Please confirm location designation and coordinates.”
“Terra Nova; that’s where our colony is. I don’t know what you call it. It’s in the same system as Negev. Does that help?”
“Location designation and coordinates logged and accepted. Human Carson, your account information has been updated with all appropriate data.”
“Now we’re getting somewhere.”
“Premise warning advisory, indicated coordinates inside restricted space. Level 3 exclusionary quarantine in place in Segamos system. Violation of this advisory will result in confinement and or termination.”
“Now wait just a damned minute,” Carson said, stepping up to the base of the dais. “We didn’t know there was a restriction on that system when we came here. Hell, we didn’t even know you existed. We were told this galaxy was devoid of intelligent life. That’s why we came here in the first place.”
“Your information was incorrect,” DIN Governance said.
“Yeah, obviously the Qa’resh didn’t know what they were talking about.”
The image flickered, lines of distortion cutting through the Regulos’ holographic body. Several of the room’s recessed lighting above flickered on and off, dimming slightly before returning to their previous levels.
“Qa’resh,” DIN Governance repeated. “Species designation…” It paused, as if thinking of the right words. “…incorrect.”
Carson frowned at Birch, who shrugged, slowly shaking his head. She turned back to the hologram as the flickering ceased and the image stabilized. Is it defective? Carson thought.
“Records indicate you would like to submit an appeal to your violations.”
“Yes, like I said, we only came here after learning of your existence. But your ships were destroyed before we had the opportunity to effectively communicate with them.”
“Records indicate Protectorate Fleet 21-A-74 was sent to investigate an unauthorized warp signature from the Segamos system. The fleet has not returned from its investigation. Attacking a Protectorate vessel is grounds for expulsion from the Collective and punitive action.”
“No, we didn’t attack your fleet,” Carson explained. “The Ultari did. They were trying to find the Triumvirate.”
DIN Governance’s image flickered again but returned to normal almost immediately. “Incorrect. Violation of restricted space is grounds for immediate sanctions.”
Carson folded her hands over her waist. “The Triumvirate was there on Negev. We found them and then they kidnapped and enslaved some of my people. They built a ship and left the system several weeks ago. My guess is that was the warp signature you detected. Feel free to go out there and see for yourself.”
“Protectorate forces are still waiting for the fleet to return and report their findings.”
“I’m telling you, they’re not going to come back. The Ultari showed up and destroyed that fleet. No survivors. Why don’t you just send another fleet out there and verify for yourself?”
“Protectorate procedure requires 67 cycles before secondary fleets will be dispatched.”
“How long is that?”
“By the time pieces inside your equipment…45 of your days.”
“Forty-five days? The Triumvirate could return by then. We don’t have time to wait 45 days, we need your fleets to help us now. To protect us. The Ultari will return and…we need your help.”
“Access to the Segamos system is restricted. External colonization of the Segamos system must be approved by the Prime Intelligence.”
“Approved?” Carson asked. “We’re there already. We have a colony established and thousands of humans are living there now. If we’d have known we needed to get permission before establishing a colony in Terra Nova, we would’ve, but we didn’t. We’re past that now. I’m here to ask for your help in protecting us against the Ultari and the Triumvirate.”
“Protectorate command will require confirmation of your status prior to the dispatch of any additional units. Additional: no Protectorate forces have left our space since the Prime Intelligence assumed control of the Ultari Empire.”
“How long ago was that?”
“By your time pieces…1,833 years.”
“But Terra Nova is within your sphere of influence. You sent a fleet there to investigate the hyperspace signature. You can send another fleet to Terra Nova to protect us.”
“Unauthorized colonization activity must be investigated. A compliance envoy must be sent to the indicated system.”
“Great,” Carson said. “When can one be sent?”
“Sixty-seven cycles.”
Carson let out a frustrated sigh. She paced around the room for several minutes, working out the problem in her mind. Finally, she said, “Okay, what about this? What if we take an envoy back with us on our ship? I can guarantee their safety and it could verify everything we’re saying and gather even more data on our species in the process. How about that?”
“Your proposal has merit,” DIN Governance said.
“Well, thank you. Now all you need to do is release my ship from holding and we can get going.”
“DIN Compliance records indicate several violations logged against your temporary account.”
Carson sighed. “Yes, I know. Like I said, we didn’t know we were violating any laws.”
“DIN Governance will dismiss your transit warrant fines, and issue you the required documentation. You are hereby granted temporary Collective status, pending a full investigation of the Terra Nova system and human colony therein. However, you will be required to pay fines garnered from violations at the Adjudication Node. DIN Adjudication is not as forgiving as DIN Governance.”
“Thank you. When can you bring a…compliance envoy to my ship?”
“This nexus does not have sufficient permissions. A request has been forwarded to the Prime Intelligence.”
“How long will that—”
“The Prime Intelligence answers when the Prime Intelligence answers. This session is terminated.”
The hologram faded away and the room lights returned to full brightness. The door opened behind them and the servitor droid stepped back into the room. “Please accompany me to the exit.”
They followed the droid back to the main room, where it stopped and bowed its head. “Have a pleasant day.”
“Thanks,” Carson said, already heading for the exit.
“I think that went well,” Birch said. “Managed to leave with a promise of diplomatic connections and some of our fines were waived.”
“But how patient can we be until they send an envoy?” Her wrist computer beeped as soon as the stepped onto the concourse, its message icon flashing. “Message from West.”
Birch rubbed his hands together. “God, I hope he found some decent food. I’m starving.”
****
West couldn’t remember the last time he’d been excited to step foot on an alien world, and despite the strangeness of this place, he was intrigued by it. He kept wanting to stop and browse, taste the food vendors offered, maybe find some delicacy to take home to his wife, but they had a job to do.
Abendu led them through the busy marketplace, into an alley that ran between several large tenement buildings directly off the bazaar. The alley was filled with piles of trash, discarded mechanical equipment, even two ground transports, stripped to the frame. Halfway down, a tall, barrel-chested Pindiki man stood by an unmarked door, watching their group intently.
“Wait here,” Abendu said under his breath, then went and spoke with the guard.
“Kind of a shitty part of town, Sarge,” Nunez whispered.
West nodded. “Keep your eyes open.”
After a short exchange, Abendu waved them over. “Come, my friends. We see Raamin now.”
“Fantastic,” West muttered.
A short trip through two dimly lit corridors brought them to a large square room, with a lowered section in the center, surrounded by sheer curtains. The room was furnished with plush couches and over-sized pillows and a low table where another Pindiki sat, counting stacks of what appeared to be money.
“Raamin!” Abendu said, pulling one of the curtains aside. “My friend.”
The three Pathfinders stopped just outside the curtains. On the far wall, several Zeis females sat, huddled together on a couch against the wall, staring back at the humans, looking somewhat confused. Their sheer wrappings hung loose around their bodies, exposing bronze flesh underneath, very human-like breasts exposed.
Raamin didn’t look up. “What do you want, Abendu?”
“I have brought you some business, my friend. Off-worlders, needing to exchange some… particular currency.”
“I’m not taking on new clients now. Go see Protta; she’s low-born enough. You two would get along just fine, I think.”
“I think, my friend, that you’ll want to see what they have to exchange first. You won’t be disappointed, I promise.”
Raamin sighed and looked up at the Pathfinders. He frowned. “Zeis?”
Abendu held up a finger. “Hoomans, not Zeis. As I said, they are new to Diasore.”
West stepped forward, offering a hand. “Master Sergeant Jason West.”
Raamin made no move to take the Pathfinder’s hand. “New, eh? What is it you’re wanting to exchange? And mind, I don’t have time for games, so if you’re going to try and trick me…”
“No tricks,” West said, holding out the pouch of Ultari money.
Raamin hesitated for a moment, then took the pouch and poured the contents on the table in front of him.
Abendu’s friend Raamin sat, inspecting their Ultari currency one pyramid at a time.
“Ah, yes,” the money exchanger said, turning one of the Ultari pyramids over in his fingers. He closed one eye, holding a scope to the other, and leaned in close for a better look. “Very nice, indeed. Non-conflict even.”
“Is that good?” Nunez asked, then grunted as West shoved an elbow into his side.