Ep.#14 - A Line in the Sand (The Frontiers Saga - Part 2: Rogue Castes)

by Ryk Brown

  “You said you needed twenty-four,” Del reminded him.

  “I’m pretty sure Josh and Loki can figure out how to fly them,” Nathan explained. “Them, plus you and Lan, gives us twenty-four.”

  Del smiled broadly. “I’ll start lining up pilots to train,” Del promised. “We’ve only got eight fighters at the moment, including these two, and we don’t have the resources to build more.”

  “You will,” Nathan promised, “assuming you and your people are willing.”

  “Oh, we’re willing,” Del insisted.

  The three of them watched Del practically run away, obviously eager to get started.

  “They seem to be working out,” Nathan said.

  “As much as I hate to admit it, I was wrong about them,” Marcus admitted.

  “What, they’re not annoying, little shits?” Jessica teased.

  “No, they’re annoying for sure. But they’re hard-working, and they’re good at what they do. Creative as hell as well. We wouldn’t be near done without them.”

  “I’m glad it worked out so well,” Nathan said.

  “Just don’t tell them I said any of that.”

  “Your secret’s safe with me,” Nathan promised.

  “I’m not promising anything,” Jessica chuckled.

  “What secret?” Josh asked as he, Loki, and Dylan came down the forward boarding ramp.

  “Mind your business,” Marcus grumbled.

  “Then we can fly her tomorrow?” Nathan asked.

  “We’ll have her ready for a test flight by morning,” Marcus promised.

  “What kind of test you wanna do?” Josh wondered.

  “I was planning on using her to return to the Aurora.”

  “For a test flight?” Dylan wondered. “Wouldn’t it be safer to start off small, like an interplanetary jump?”

  “Real-world tests are kinda his thing,” Josh explained to Dylan. “Better get used to it.”

  “What about the jump missile systems?” Marcus wondered. “It’s still going to take us a few days to finish that.”

  “Will all the parts fit inside the ship?” Nathan asked.

  “Yeah, but…”

  “Can you assemble them in flight?”

  “Most of it I suppose.”

  “Then we can do some of it on the way and the rest on the Aurora,” Nathan told him.

  “How the hell are you going to fit this inside the Aurora?”

  “I said on the Aurora, not in her.”

  “I don’t like the sound of that,” Marcus grumbled.

  “It’ll be fine,” Nathan assured him.

  “Captain,” Dylan interrupted. “My mom instructed me to invite you to dinner once you returned.”

  “If she doesn’t mind the short notice, we can come tonight,” Nathan replied.

  “We?” Jessica asked.

  “You’re my bodyguard, aren’t you?” Nathan joked.

  “I’ll give her a call and see,” Dylan replied, moving away to make the call.

  “Great,” Marcus scowled. “You two go to a dinner party, and I get stuck here working late.”

  “I’ll bring you some dessert,” Nathan joked. “Besides, I don’t think you want me working on this ship.”

  “Hell no,” Marcus agreed. “There is one thing, though. If we’re going to ship out tomorrow, she’s gonna need a name. Or were you planning on calling her XK Seventy-Three?”

  Nathan sighed, thinking. After a moment, he looked at Josh and Loki, and finally Marcus. “How about the KAS Dalen Voss?”

  Marcus was silent for a moment. “Sounds like a damn good name, Cap’n,” he agreed, appearing a bit choked up.

  “The Dalen Voss it is then.”

  After another moment of silence, Josh spoke up. “If I die, can I get a ship named after me? But a cool one, not a bucket like this.”

  Marcus rolled his eyes. “Yeah, we’ll call it the ‘KAS Dipshit’.”

  * * *

  “There were a few ships I found interesting,” Lord Dusahn stated as they returned to the sales office.

  “The Orso shuttles?” Beal asked.

  “Yes.”

  “I thought I noticed an interest there.”

  “Their top-loading feature would work nicely with the medium cargo transports you have in orbit.”

  “The Twelve Eighteens, yes,” Beal agreed enthusiastically. “With auto-loading systems installed in all four cargo docking ports, the transfer process can be done without pressure-cycling, and without additional crew. A savings of both time and money. And the Orsos are single-pilot rated.”

  “I was curious about how the pilots would get from the carrier into their shuttles,” Lord Dusahn commented.

  “There is a small, short tunnel that connects the cockpit to the cargo bay,” Beal explained. “However, that means the pilots would have to wear pressure suits, or you’d have to pressure-cycle the cargo bays. I would suggest adding separate external docking ports with direct connections to the shuttle cockpits. I have seen Twelve Eighteens outfitted with additional, pressurized shuttle bays added to them.”

  “All things to consider,” Lord Dusahn agreed.

  “Shall I schedule you for a tour of the Twelve Eighteens?” the young salesman suggested as he followed Lord Dusahn to the front door.

  “I shall have my people examine the specifications you have provided and get back to you,” he replied as they stepped outside. “I am concerned about their inadequate shielding and defenses.”

  “The Twelve Eighteens are quite well shielded, and they have two defensive guns,” Beal reminded him. “Surely those would be adequate for most situations.”

  Lord Dusahn looked about, noting both his second guard and the unsavory-looking character sitting on the front bench, whom the guard seemed to be keeping an eye on. “It is not most situations that concern me. As the old saying goes: ‘It is better to have the guns and not need them, than to need them and not have them.’”

  “We can add them,” Beal assured him, fearing he was about to lose a potential customer. “For a modest fee.”

  “I will be in touch, Mister Dorona. Thank you for your time.”

  “Of course, Mister Griosan,” the young man replied politely as he backstepped toward the safety of his office. “I look forward to hearing from you.”

  As if flipping a switch, Lord Dusahn’s demeanor changed, his usual swagger returning to his stride as he headed back toward his waiting shuttle, security detail in tow.

  “I was unaware of your extraordinary acting abilities,” the sergeant stated as he followed his leader up the path toward the landing pad.

  “It was all I could do to keep from ripping that idiot’s heart out of his chest,” Lord Dusahn grumbled.

  “We have a tail,” the second guard stated, just loud enough for the others to hear.

  The sergeant glanced back over his shoulder, spotting the man who had been sitting on the bench outside the sales office. “The path forks just ahead. He may be going to a different pad.”

  “None of the other pads are currently occupied,” the second guard pointed out.

  “His ride may be inbound,” the sergeant replied. “If he does not fall from our six at the fork, we will act.”

  “Keep it discrete, gentlemen,” Lord Dusahn reminded. “There is still the chance that we may be doing business with this establishment.”

  The three men continued up the path, passing the fork as they ascended the hillside toward their waiting shuttle. As expected, the man continued to follow them without veering away.

  “Still there,” the second guard commented.

  “Wait until we round these rocks ahead,” the sergeant stated. “They will conceal our activities from the yard cameras.”

  “Understood,” the second guard replied.
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  Once around the bend and behind the large rocks, the two guards split off and took up semi-concealed firing positions from which to ambush their tail. Lord Dusahn, however, took a few more steps and stopped, turning to face the approaching threat.

  “My lord,” the sergeant began to object.

  “I will deal with the stranger,” Lord Dusahn insisted. “Take action if you see the need.”

  “Yes, my lord,” the sergeant acknowledged, settling into his firing position.

  Lord Dusahn stood confidently, his eyes on the spot where their follower would likely show his face. After half a minute, the man appeared, moving cautiously as he rounded the blind corner. The man’s eyes shifted back and forth, spotting both of Lord Dusahn’s guards in their firing positions. His eyes shifted back to Lord Dusahn, a smile growing as he slowly raised his open hands to shoulder height, indicating that he was not a threat.

  “State your business or die,” Lord Dusahn stated firmly, his gaze cold and deadly.

  “I mean you no harm, good sir,” the man assured him. “I am not armed.”

  “Why are you following us?” Lord Dusahn inquired.

  “I am known to young Mister Dorona as a trader of their ships, not of those belonging to others.”

  “You are poaching his customers, then,” Lord Dusahn surmised.

  “Such an ugly word. I prefer to think of it as ‘offering alternatives’,” the man insisted. “In your case, better alternatives.”

  “I’m listening,” Lord Dusahn stated impatiently.

  “I heard you speak of ships with more robust defenses. Perhaps it is not cargo ships you seek, but ships of war.”

  “Such ships are not sold by Paleans,” Lord Dusahn replied.

  “I am not Palean,” the man said, smiling more broadly.

  Lord Dusahn exchanged a glance with his sergeant. “I’m still listening.”

  * * *

  “Good evening, Captain, Lieutenant Commander,” Miss Bindi greeted from the open doorway to her home.

  “Good evening, Miss Bindi,” Nathan replied as he and Jessica stepped inside. “I hope you’ll forgive our attire. Our basic duty uniforms are all we brought with us. We were not expecting a dinner invitation.”

  “That’s quite all right, Captain,” Miss Bindi assured him, closing the door behind them. “And please call me Caitrin. You are guests in our home after all.”

  “Of course.”

  “And may I call you Nathan?” she asked.

  “Please.”

  Miss Bindi looked at Jessica.

  “Jessica please,” Jessica responded.

  “Dinner will be ready shortly,” Caitrin informed them as she led them down the corridor.

  “This isn’t at all what I was expecting,” Nathan admitted as he and Jessica followed their host through the palatial home.

  “You were expecting the home from the simulation, no doubt,” Miss Bindi said. “I doubt you would have so easily accepted virtual Dylan’s story had he lived in a home such as this.”

  “Probably not,” Nathan agreed.

  “We used a low-income home design that is common to SilTek for that simulation,” Caitrin explained as she led them into the living room.

  “Pretty nice for a low-income home,” Jessica commented.

  “We find that quality of life goes a long way toward ensuring loyalty to the corporation.”

  “Then why not give everyone a home like this?” Jessica wondered.

  “Because the concept of effort and reward is the foundation of any civilized society,” Caitrin insisted. “Without it, workers become complacent, and progress stalls.”

  “What about those who do not excel at their job?” Nathan asked. “Are they the ones who end up in the low-income housing?”

  “Compensation on SilTek is based on effort, not result,” Caitrin explained as she moved behind the bar. “Besides, citizens are generally matched to jobs that suit their natural talents. Would either of you care for a drink?”

  “Yes please,” Nathan replied.

  Again, Caitrin looked to Jessica, who nodded.

  “What happens if someone doesn’t care for the positions their talents are best suited for?” Nathan wondered.

  “No one is forced to serve in a position against their will,” Caitrin explained as she placed three crystal goblets on the bar before her. “However, they do so knowing they might need to work harder than others to achieve the same results. We do have minimum standards to maintain after all.” Caitrin paused a moment, a dark red bottle in her hand. “Does this bother you, Captain?”

  “Not at all,” Nathan assured her. “I did not mean to judge your ways. I only wish to understand them.”

  “We have found that people are generally happier when they naturally excel at their work,” Caitrin explained as she partially filled each goblet with a blood-red liquid. “Is it not true on Earth as well?”

  “I suppose so,” Nathan agreed. “However, it is more about liking what they do or feeling that they are contributing something of value that brings them fulfillment. History shows there are generally two types of workers. Those who need to find fulfillment from their work in order to be happy, and those who find their fulfillment away from work, and are perfectly content to do a job that they care little about.”

  “On SilTek, such tasks are performed by automation,” Caitrin explained as she brought two glasses out from behind the bar, handing one to Nathan and the other to Jessica.

  “Are all citizens of your world required to work?” Jessica asked, sniffing the beverage.

  “All those able and in need of support,” Caitrin explained. “For example, the disabled are provided for, and if the position of one partner provides enough to support them both, the other partner is not required to work. They may be forced to live a life of lesser means, but that is certainly within their rights.”

  “What about the elderly?” Nathan wondered, accepting a goblet from Caitrin. “Are they able to retire?”

  “Our people remain quite healthy in our elder years,” Caitrin explained. “Most continue to work until they are no longer able, at which point they are considered disabled and are provided for.”

  “And at what level?” Nathan asked, a bit suspicious.

  Caitrin smiled, picking up the third goblet for herself. “I assure you, Captain, we do not punish our disabled,” she said as she took her seat. “They may not be supported at the same level as when they were working, but they live quite comfortably.” She raised her goblet in salute. “To our new working relationship.”

  Nathan and Jessica each raised their glasses and took a sip.

  “Quite tart,” Nathan commented.

  “It is a wine made from sachi berries that only grow in the middle latitudes of SilTek,” Caitrin explained. “It promotes immunity and good health. It is traditionally served to guests and for toasts to one’s health, or to a productive collaboration.”

  “Then I take it you’ve decided to accept the position,” Nathan surmised.

  “I have,” Caitrin confirmed.

  “How does your employer feel about that?” Nathan wondered.

  “She was displeased at first,” Caitrin replied. “There are few whom she trusts to negotiate in her stead. However, I convinced her of the advantages of having a Tekan managing the business side of our new alliance.”

  Nathan’s eyebrow immediately shot up.

  “Do not worry, Captain,” Caitrin stated, noting her guest’s suspicion. “SilTek shall see no favoritism from me.”

  “No disrespect intended, Caitrin, but are you certain of that?” Nathan wondered. “After all, you are only human.”

  “Agreed,” Caitrin replied. “That is why I intend on using an AI assistant to analyze all my decisions.”

  “I’m not sure that makes me feel any bet
ter.”

  “Me neither,” Jessica agreed.

  “And there may be others who oppose the use of AIs in high-level decision making,” Nathan continued. “For example, the Corinairans are quite opposed to the use of artificial intelligence.”

  “There are different levels of artificial intelligence,” Caitrin told them. “SilTek does not create what people think of as sentient AIs. While our AIs are able to learn from their experiences, and even correct inefficiencies in their own code, they do not feel. They are only self-aware to the point of knowing their purpose.”

  “But using them for high-level decision making,” Nathan continued to object.

  “We generally use them in two ways,” Caitrin explained. “Either to provide us with all possible outcomes of a decision, or to suggest the best course of action based on a desired outcome. We have been using them in the administration of SilTek for more than a century. We have found that they prevent us from making biased decisions.”

  “Interesting concept,” Nathan admitted. “Still, it may be best to downplay the use of AIs in the beginning, at least until we know how they will be received by our members.”

  “I strongly suggest that you make it known from the start,” Caitrin urged. “I would expect anyone intelligent enough to serve as an ambassador for their world to see the logic behind the use of an analytical AI.”

  “Good point,” Nathan agreed.

  “Now, there are many details we must discuss,” Caitrin stated. “However, I think it best we dine first. My husband should be serving at any moment, and he insisted that his tenna steaks are eaten hot.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “How’s she looking?” Nathan asked Marcus as he and Jessica approached the ship.

  “She’s ready to fly,” Marcus replied, blurry-eyed.

  “You been here all night?” Nathan asked, noticing his haggard-looking friend.

  “We all have,” Marcus replied. “We found a few things that needed fixin’ before we could take her out for a spin, and we didn’t want to disappoint you.”

  “What if something goes wrong during the flight?” Nathan wondered. “Are you going to be awake to deal with it?”

  “I’ll be fine,” Marcus assured him. “SilTek’s got something similar to coffee. Tastes like shit, but it does the job.”