by Ryk Brown
Mister Dekkan looked right and left, but Mister Griosan was nowhere to be found. He tapped the intercom, yelling out, “What is happening?” but no one responded. He switched channels, then tried to call out again, but found no breath with which to do so, only a terrible pain in the back of his left upper chest.
“You should have been more certain of whom you were doing business with,” Lord Dusahn whispered in Mister Dekkan’s ear from behind as he slowly withdrew his blade from the man’s back. He stepped aside, allowing Mister Dekkan to fall back in his chair, still gasping for breath. “However, I suppose I should be thankful since your miscalculations have handed me this vessel as well. Seven ships, and for nothing but the cost of the journey,” he added as he moved slowly around in the eerily lit compartment to stand before his dying adversary. “A rather good day, I’d say.”
Mister Dekkan could feel the blood spilling out of his heart with each ever-weakening beat. His breath was gurgling with each labored inspiration, and he felt as if he were drowning. Finally, he was able to utter one question. “Who are you?”
Lord Dusahn reached down and pulled the escrow control key-chip from the reader sitting on the desk. “Griogair Dusahn, leader of the Dusahn Empire, to whom your life, and the lives of your crew, have just been sacrificed.”
“My lord,” a voice called from Lord Dusahn’s comm-unit.
“Report, Sergeant,” Lord Dusahn instructed.
“We have control of engineering, life-support, and the bridge. Teams two and four are sweeping the ship for any remaining crew.”
“Well done, Sergeant. Notify all vessels. We depart immediately for the rendezvous point. I want to be clear of this region of space as soon as possible, in case Mister Dekkan had a backup plan.”
“Right away, my lord.”
Lord Dusahn looked down at the now lifeless body of Mister Dekkan. “A good day indeed.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Dylan closed his eyes, his head falling back in frustration as the Voss bounced and shook in Rakuen’s dense atmosphere. “How many times do I have to tell you? You have to slow down before you jump into the atmosphere!”
“You worry too much,” Josh replied, annoyed with Dylan’s constant criticism.
“You’re putting undue stress on the ship.”
“The ship can take the stress,” Josh insisted.
“But she doesn’t have to! How can you not see that?”
“Maybe if your Subvert friends had beefed up the shields and the inertial dampeners like we asked…”
“There’s not enough power,” Dylan reminded him. “Not until the upgraded nacelles with the ZPEDs are installed. You know this!” He looked to Loki in desperation. “Would you please tell him…”
“Don’t look at me,” Loki insisted. “I gave up trying to tell him how to fly long ago.”
“Captain,” Dylan begged as Nathan came into the compartment from behind. “Would you please tell Josh to stop putting undue stress on the ship?”
“How is he going to know what she can take if he doesn’t shake her up a bit?” Nathan replied.
“By her operational specifications,” Dylan insisted, astounded that he even needed to explain.
“Op-specs are written by engineers, not pilots,” Josh chuckled. “Engineers don’t know shit about stresses on a ship.”
“I can’t believe what I’m hearing,” Dylan exclaimed, throwing up his hands.
“Josh is right,” Nathan told him.
“You’re kidding!”
“Look, he’s not going to break the ship,” Nathan said, trying to calm the young man down. “He might damage a few things, cause a couple of cracks here and there, but it won’t be anything that we can’t fix.”
“But why break it if you don’t have to?” Dylan wondered, practically pleading with him.
“It’s called a shakedown cruise for a reason,” Josh added.
“A shakedown cruise helps us identify the areas of the ship that need improvement,” Nathan explained. “Better to discover and deal with them now rather than when our very lives are at stake.”
“But if he just flew the ship the way it was designed to be flown…” Dylan argued.
“Sometimes, the only way to get out alive is to not fly it the way it was designed to be flown,” Nathan said, interrupting him.
“This would be a whole lot easier if we just turned the damned AI off,” Josh insisted.
“Do you know how many things the AI monitors and adjusts every minute?” Dylan challenged.
“Any ship that can’t be operated safely in full-manual mode isn’t worth flying,” Josh replied.
“Perhaps if you just altered the AI’s programming,” Nathan suggested, trying to put an end to the bickering. “Maybe just turn off the flight-assist subroutines?”
“Everything is interconnected,” Dylan explained. “Propulsion, lift, maneuvering, power generation, inertial dampening systems…all of it. Hell, even life support is controlled by the AI.”
“Surely your engineers anticipated an AI failure,” Nathan suggested.
“AI’s don’t fail,” Dylan insisted.
“An AI is a system, just like any other system,” Nathan explained. “All systems are subject to failure. Are you telling me that this ship cannot function without an AI?”
“It can function,” Dylan admitted. “Just not safely. Without the AI monitoring and adjusting things, something critical could get overlooked by the operators. That’s the entire purpose of simulations. In simulations, you can safely subject the system to unexpected stresses and evaluate the effects of those stresses.”
“But a simulation only responds according to design specifications,” Nathan argued.
“Meaning?”
“Meaning it’s going to respond to those stresses the way the engineers calculated it would respond.”
“Of course!” Dylan agreed. “Why do you say that like it’s a problem?”
“It’s not a problem,” Nathan told him. “But it isn’t a shakedown cruise. Flying her beyond her designed performance parameters is the only way to verify what her true performance parameters are.”
“A good pilot plans a flight so that they will not need to operate outside of designed performance parameters,” Dylan argued.
“Why are you clinging so tightly to engineered specs?” Nathan wondered. “I thought you said SilTek engineers couldn’t design a decent toaster. You even called them something. What was it…?”
“Procedural engineers,” Dylan replied. “But I was talking about Mister Payton, not all engineers.”
“Too bad,” Josh commented as he monitored the ship’s descent toward Rakuen’s capital city. “That was the one time I agreed with you.”
“It sounded to me like you were talking about all SilTek engineers,” Nathan insisted.
“Okay, maybe I was, but…”
“You’re good with AI programming, right?” Nathan asked, interrupting him yet again.
“Yes, but…”
“Then figure out how to give Josh full-manual flight control, but still have the AI monitor the other systems.”
“That’s going to take days,” Dylan complained. “Maybe weeks!”
“Then you’d better get started,” Nathan insisted.
“Captain!”
“You wanted to be on this crew,” Nathan reminded him.
Dylan threw up his hands again as he turned and exited the compartment down the center staircase.
“Thanks, Cap’n,” Josh said. “That kid was starting to annoy me.”
“Don’t get too happy,” Nathan warned. “He had a point. You might want to become accustomed to flying this ship with the AI’s help for now. It does have a manual mode, after all.”
“Yeah, but it’s not full manual,” Josh argued.
“It will
have to do for now,” Nathan insisted. “If worse comes to worst, we can always shut the AI off and restart it later.”
“But then we’d be learning how to pilot her on the fly,” Loki pointed out. “She probably handles differently without the AI’s help.”
“I have every confidence in the two of you to figure it out if we have to,” Nathan said, turning to head aft toward the common room.
Loki looked at Josh.
“I hate this bucket,” Josh grumbled as they continued their descent.
* * *
Deliza looked up from the view screen at her desk, her expression crestfallen when she saw Nathan at her office door.
“I feel rather insulted,” Nathan said from the doorway. “Should I go?”
Deliza smiled. “I was hoping you were my assistant. He promised to bring me lunch.”
“I can go out and get you something, and then return,” Nathan offered.
“Don’t be silly, Captain,” Deliza replied, turning off her view screen. “What can I do for you?”
“Can’t I just stop by to say hello?” Nathan wondered, taking a seat across from her.
“You’re the leader of the Karuzari Alliance. You hardly have the time to drop by.”
“Yeah, I’m cursed that way,” Nathan admitted.
“Or blessed, depending on your point of view.” After a moment of silence, she became embarrassed. “Oh my God, did you come by just to say hello?”
Nathan was hesitant to answer, afraid he would make her feel even more guilty. “No,” he finally confessed. “I do need your help.”
Deliza relaxed, breathing a sigh of relief. “What can I do for you?”
“I want to buy the Glendanon.”
Deliza’s eyes widened. “Is that all?”
“Not all of her, just a few shares.”
“How many is a few?”
“I don’t know just yet,” Nathan admitted. “Half of them, at most.”
“Any particular reason?”
“We need the Glendanon to serve as a long-range jump cargo ship to make regular runs between all alliance worlds.”
“You’re trying to provide something of value to members other than protection,” Deliza surmised.
“Dedicated, discounted trade with all allied worlds would be of great value.”
“It would, indeed. But buying half share in the Glendanon? I doubt we could afford it.”
“Can you at least meet with the shareholders and see?” Nathan asked. “I’m certain that between the two of us, we can come up with something.”
“Ships the size of the Glendanon are made possible through complex legal and financial structures,” Deliza warned. “Such structures are difficult to navigate, and for good reason. They are meant to protect the interests of all those who have invested in the entity. And those interests are generally quite large.”
“Are such levels of financial interest outside of Ranni’s realm?”
“Prior to the Dusahn, no,” Deliza replied. “Now, I doubt we could buy enough shares to influence the vote one way or another. That is what you hope to do, is it not?”
“It depends on how many shareholders are still alive,” Nathan told her.
“You don’t know?”
“Not yet,” Nathan admitted. “Captain Gullen was able to contact one of them; apparently, one of the largest shareholders. Someone named Coulthard.”
“Ross Coulthard?”
“I believe so, yes. Do you know him?”
“By reputation only. He was one of the richest men on Corinair. In fact, I contracted with one of his companies to build my first production line for the Ranni shuttles. If we have to match wits and finances with Ross Coulthard, we may as well give up now.”
“According to Captain Gullen, Mister Coulthard actually supports our plans for the Glendanon.”
“At zero profit?” Deliza wondered in disbelief. “That hardly seems likely.”
“Profits have yet to be discussed,” Nathan admitted. “However, they cannot be much, at least not in the beginning. We need the cost to the new members to be low enough to be attractive.”
“They will have to be discussed at some point,” Deliza warned. “And the lower the profit margins, the less likely the other shareholders are to vote in our favor.”
“What you’re saying is that we don’t have a snowball’s chance in hell.”
“What I’m saying is ‘don’t get your hopes up,’” Deliza corrected. “But I’m happy to help.”
“Thank you,” Nathan replied. “Now, shall we get some lunch?”
* * *
Dylan squatted next to the open canopy of the P-Seventy-Two in the Voss’s port bay. “Any questions?”
Josh glanced one last time around the cramped cockpit. “This is weapons, right?” he asked, pointing at the control panel on the left side of the forward console.
“Yes, but please don’t touch anything on that panel.”
“What about this one?” Josh asked, pointing at the panel on the right.
“Comms,” Dylan replied. “Two channels. One for general broadcast, and one for ship-to-ship.”
“Ship-to-ship is private?”
“It’s encrypted, with a rolling algorithm, so yes. General broadcast can be encrypted as well, but isn’t by default.”
“But ship-to-ship is?”
“Yes,” Dylan replied, rising to stand. “Just promise me one thing.”
“What?”
“Please use the automated launch and recovery features, at least until you get the hang of flying this thing.”
“I make no promises,” Josh replied, a mischievous grin on his face.
“I’m not giving you the control codes until you do,” Dylan warned.
“Fuck, you’re a pain,” Josh swore, rolling his eyes.
“Yes, I am,” Dylan replied, undaunted. “Now promise.”
“Fine,” Josh acquiesced. “I promise.”
“You promise what?”
“Are you serious?”
“What are you promising, Josh,” Dylan demanded, holding his ground.
Josh’s head fell back against the headrest of his flight seat as he sighed. “I promise I’ll use the automated launch and recovery systems until I get the hang of flying this thing. Are you happy now?” he added, turning to glare at Dylan.
“One seven two five zero three,” Dylan said, turning and heading up the steps back to the common room one deck above. “Have a good flight.”
Josh reached forward and grabbed the edge of the canopy, pulling it backwards over him. The motors sensed the motion and kicked in, sending the canopy all the way aft until it locked into its fully closed position.
As the canopy closed, Josh donned the small, makeshift helmet sitting on top of the forward console. After reaching down and activating the ship-to-ship channel, he called out for his friend in the starboard P-Seventy-Two. “You on comms, Lok?”
“I’m here,” Loki replied over Josh’s helmet comms.
“What did he make you promise to get the control codes?”
“Huh?”
“Nothing. You ready to have some fun?”
“This is a training flight, Josh, not a joyride.”
“Wanna bet?”
“What are we going to call ourselves?” Loki asked.
“How about I call you Loki, and you call me Josh?”
“Works for me.”
“You figure out how to launch these things?” Josh inquired, looking around the console for the launch button.
“Press the command button on your console that says ‘Launch’,” Loki explained. “The AI will do the rest.”
“Crap, these things have AIs as well?”
“Very limited ones,” Dylan chimed in.
“I t
hought ship-to-ship was private?” Josh said.
“The home ship is part of the ship-to-ship network,” Dylan explained. “I’ll be monitoring your flight from the command deck in case you have any questions.”
“Fat chance,” Josh muttered to himself.
“I’ve already gotten clearance for you from Rakuen Flight Control,” Dylan announced. “You’re both clear to maneuver at will to the southwest, as long as you stay below five thousand meters.”
“Got it.” Josh pressed the command button on the left side of his flight control stick, just above the vertical translation toggle. “Launch.”
The bay doors in front of him began to move, splitting open horizontally and opening up like a clamshell. Twenty seconds later, the grav-lift systems began to hum, and the docking clamps released. The tiny fighter rose up half a meter, then slid smoothly forward out of the bay, coming to a stop in a hover just above the tarmac, directly to port of the Voss’s command deck.
“See how easy that was?” Dylan commented over comms.
Josh looked to his right, spotting Dylan in the Voss’s cockpit window. “Don’t fart in my seat, Dylan.”
“What?”
“You heard me,” Josh reiterated as he took hold of the flight control stick with his right hand and the grav-lift power slider with his left.
“Now pull back gently on the stick to gain altitude,” Dylan instructed. “Once you’re above the Voss, twist the stick to yaw around to the southwest, and then gently ease the accelerator pedal in to start your flight.”
Josh grinned at Dylan. In a motion so quick that it was nearly simultaneous, Josh yanked the control stick back and twisted it hard to port, causing his fighter to leap upward rapidly as it spun to the left. A split second afterward, he pressed the accelerator pedal, causing his fighter to lurch forward and pull away from the Voss at an alarming rate. “Damn!” he exclaimed excitedly. “This little bugger can move!”
“Take it easy, Josh,” Loki warned. “Get a little altitude under you until you get the feel for it.”
“Remember who you’re talking to,” Josh reminded his friend. “Where are you at?”
His pedal to the floor, Loki eased his grav-lift power slider forward to the stops, smoothly accelerating his little fighter in an attempt to catch up to his reckless cohort. “Ten clicks behind you and closing fast,” he reported. “The acceleration on these things is phenomenal.”