by Kal Spriggs
“Rawn became a GFN sympathizer because of you. He carried messages, transported weapons and other illicit cargo for them. He received the message from Giran, about this ship. He thought up the GFN plot to take it over.”
She found Rawn’s involvement with the terrorists abominable. She saw her little brother’s face on the bodies of the terrorists who’d died. His face as the killer who’d planted the bomb that had killed her parents.
“This has all happened because you didn’t try to make things right. This was never about doing what was right, not for you. You said it was, but really, Marcus, really, you were running away.”
She felt tears begin to roll down her face. Hot, angry tears. “I hate that you’ve turned my brother against me. I hate that you took my parents away from me. I hate that you’ve wiped away all my other emotions besides anger and hate. I hate how even now, you think my killing you will somehow make this right.” She let out a frustrated breath, “And most of all, I hate how I can’t even hate you.”
She lowered the pistol. “I’m not going to kill you. That, in its way, would be another easy way out.” She shook her head, “That’s what you’ve been looking for all along.” She turned away, “There aren’t any, Marcus. You’ve got to work and it’s hard work doing any good in the universe. It’s a lot harder than letting someone kill you.”
Mel looked at the others, “We’ve got time. I told Colonel Frost I’d lead you all to a compartment at the other end of the ship. I said I’d lead you into an ambush for the chance to kill him.” She waved an arm at Marcus. “So… now that this is cleared up, let’s get back to work.”
“Wait – he killed your parents and you’re fine with that?” Bob stared at her.
“No,” Mel straightened her shoulders. The faces of her parents flashed through her mind – her father’s words about work and duty. Her mother’s belief in God and doing the right thing. “But we’ve got a job to do.”
“Very interesting,” A familiar gravelly voice spoke from above. “Now disarm the explosives or I’ll have to kill you.”
***
Mel looked up. “Hello, Fenris. How long you been listening?”
“Until sometime after your capture,” Fenris answered. “I watched and listened. Now, disarm the explosives or I’ll lower the radiation shielding in the forward section of the ship.”
Mel watched as Brian and Bob hesitated, “You might as well. It’s no small threat. We’d be dead in a couple hours, ship suits or no.”
Brian spoke, “I’d survive.”
“We would still die.” Mel said. “If we’re voting on this, I vote against pointless suicide.”
She watched Bob return to his explosives and pull out the blasting cap. He picked up the charge and placed it back in his rucksack. Brian still hesitated. Finally, he scowled and did the same. “Now, what?”
“Now, you have a problem,” Fenris growled. “Necessary repairs and dealing with you and the other group has cost me more power reserves than I had planned. I need to cut power to my life support systems.”
“So we go on canned air?” Mel asked.
“I have to cut internal lights and gravity as well,” Fenris said. “Depending on circumstances, I may need to cut radiation shielding throughout the ship.”
“So, we’re dead, anyway,” Stasia said.
Fenris didn’t answer.
The lights cut out; total darkness.
“I’ve left shielding up, for now. If my power reserves continue to fall faster than anticipated, I will notify you before I cut the shielding.”
“That will kill us all,” Mel said.
“One of you claims he will live, though that is statistically unlikely in a human.” Fenris’ gruff voice sounded apologetic.
“I’m not a normal, I’m a Genemod,” Brian said. Mel could picture the look of arrogant superiority on his face. She absently wished Fenris hadn’t cut the lights so she could smack him.
“What is that?” Fenris asked.
“I’m a genetically modified person, grown in a lab. I was designed from incubation to be a soldier,” Brian answered. “I’m better in every way than humans.”
“Humble too,” Bob said. Mel barely suppressed a snort of laughter. She wished Fenris had kept the lights on so she could see the look on Brian’s face.
“Interesting,” Fenris said. “You’re like me.”
Mel really wished she had light to see the look on Brian’s face.
“I’m nothing, like you. I’m unique. I’m perfect, you’re a machine,” Brian said.
“I’m smarter, tougher, and harder to kill than a ship full of humans,” Fenris said. “I’ve survived where humans would die. I was designed to be a perfect warship.”
“But you’re a machine,” Brian said. “Machines aren’t like humans at all.”
“Some people say the same thing about mutants,” Mel said. She smirked a bit, glad to suddenly rub the arrogant man in a sensitive spot.
“Stop smiling like that, you don’t know what you’re talking about,” Brian snapped. “And yes, I can see fine in the dark. I can see on infrared.”
“So, Fenris, what are we supposed to do?” Mel asked. She tried not to think about Brian moving up on her in the dark. Where’d I put that flashlight, she wondered. She patted down her pockets.
Marcus clicked on a lamp. The diffuse light cast the machinery in stark shadows. She started to see Brian only a few meters away. She’d been partially right, at least. He had moved closer in the dark.
“You stay there until I fix the power issues,” Fenris said.
“Look, I hate to say this,” Bob said, rolling his eyes, “but we ‘normal’ humans are perfectly capable of fixing problems.”
“The limited life support systems aboard this ship operate off my auxiliary antimatter reactor,” Fenris said. “My primary fusion reactors can’t provide the additional power required to operate life support, not without compromising weapons and defenses. My antimatter reactor is fully drained. It was my only source of power for a long time, and even with tight use of it, it has finally run dry.”
“Well…” Bob looked around. His hands made a cylinder shape in mid air. He raised his eyebrows. Mel pursed her lips. Clearly he meant the antimatter core that the terrorists now had. Just as clearly, he was wondering if they should tell Fenris.
Mel bit a knuckle. If they told Fenris, the additional power would certainly be enough to restore life support. More importantly, the ship would keep the radiation shields up. That would let them live. It would also make the ship more capable. If the ship had problems powering life support, it might be unable to power weapons and use its engines.
The question is… will the ship reach Vagyr capable of fighting without the additional power. Mel frowned, “Will your power reserves affect your mission?”
“Mission requirements drive my decision to cut auxiliary systems,” Fenris said. “I am sorry. I don’t wish to kill you. My security protocols require me to place the mission first.”
Mel smiled sourly, “Somehow, that doesn’t help much. Thanks anyway.” She looked around at the others. The stark light from the lantern cast their faces in harsh planes and angles. Brian looked almost alien, while Bob looked even more mysterious and Marcus looked brooding.
“What if Fenris is lying?” Brian asked.
Mel raised an eyebrow. “I know you’ve got the least to lose…”
Brian scowled, “I won’t die, I didn’t say I’d be comfortable. Radiation poisoning is… not fun. I might not be capable of functioning after a day or two of it. More might very well kill me.”
Mel closed her eyes, she felt tired and sore. After the confrontation with Marcus, she needed to sleep. Why did everything keep coming back to her?
“Fenris, the terrorists have an antimatter core in their possession. That should provide you enough power.”
Fenris didn’t respond for a long moment.
“They will not surrender it,” Fenris said. “Not without ac
cess to my mainframe.” Mel sighed. It doesn’t matter, a few more hours or days to live, I should just give up. She didn’t see any way out. And she was so tired.
“Mel, they think you’re working for them, right?” Bob said.
She opened her eyes. She looked quizzically at the spy, “Yes?”
“Well…” Bob cleared his throat, “What if you went back? With a good story… you could get in a position to steal it.”
“A heist?” Brian said. “Risky.” She scowled at the eager edge to his voice.
“Yeah, too risky,” Marcus said. “We’re not sending her back there!”
Bob gave Marcus an odd look, “She just held a gun to your head.”
“Yeah, well, she had a reason,” Marcus answered. He gave Mel a nervous look. “And they won’t be too happy to see her without us following.”
She sighed again. “I’ll do it.”
“Are you insane?” Marcus said.
“What do I tell them?” She asked Bob. “You worked with them, what will they believe?”
“Something simple, a story that works for itself,” Bob said. “Keep lies simple.”
“Should someone go with her?” Brian asked.
“She’s not going!” Marcus shouted.
Bob ignored him. “No, not at first. She needs to get back into their group. Get close to the antimatter core.” He frowned, “Fenris, can you manufacture a replica of the core?”
“Yes. Now that I know what to look for, I have identified it. I will have it ready in one hour.”
“How will we do the switch?” Stasia asked.
Mel frowned, “It shouldn’t be too hard. I told them I’d lead you to the auxiliary fusion reactor. There’s a number of side passages that run nearby. Can you pull up a schematic? I can arrange to pick up the replacement—”
Fenris said, “I can conduct the switch with one of my repair robots.”
Mel rolled her eyes, so much for another chance to blow ourselves up. “Okay, that will work, then—”
“No. You aren’t going. I won’t let you—”
Mel pushed herself up to look at Marcus. “Sooner or later, Marcus, you need to learn that to do the good things, you have to risk what’s important to you. I have to do this. Either that, or we die.”
“We can—”
“There’s no other way,” Mel turned away. “Fenris, since I’m helping you, can you open some of those damned doors?”
“Of course.”
***
Marcus pulled her aside before she left. “This is nuts. You’re risking yourself, and we’re not getting anywhere.”
Despite her anger with him, she couldn’t help but feel grateful for his determination to protect her.
But she shook her head, “We’ll live a little longer. Maybe that will make a difference. Maybe this will give us the advantage we need to turn this around. Maybe it’ll just return us to status quo. Either way, we’ll still be alive. I count that a plus.”
“Let me go with you,” Marcus said.
Mel gave him a level look, “No. I have to go alone, there’s no other way.”
She felt odd talking so easily to him, almost as if they had fallen back into the pattern from when they had been friends. It was wrong, she knew, to like him, despite the terrible things he had done.
Marcus frowned, “Or at least rest some. You can’t have slept since...”
“Since I found out that you killed my parents,” Mel finished his sentence for him. “No, I haven’t. I’ll be fine.”
“Mel…” Marcus looked away, “I don’t think… I can’t live without you.”
“Marcus…” Mel closed her eyes. “I appreciate what you’re trying to say. Please… stop. I understand why you did what you did. I may even forgive you someday. Right now… right now I’m still a little surprised I didn’t kill you.”
She couldn't, wouldn't forgive him... but she didn't know how to behave around him. She couldn't reconcile his past with what she knew of him, it was too terrible, too raw.
“I see,” Marcus turned away. “Be careful.”
“You know me,” Mel smiled.
Marcus grimaced, “Yeah, that’s why I said to be careful.”
She stepped past him into the dark corridor. “Mel, wait up.”
Mel turned. Stasia stood behind her. “Yes?”
The mousy woman looked somewhat nervous. Finally, she shrugged, “Good luck.”
“Thanks,” Mel took a deep breath. “Rawn said something. He said you had to be hiding something. Care to tell me?” She peered at Stasia's face for a long moment, wondering if the other woman hid more secrets than Mel had suspected.
Stasia cocked her head, “I do not know what he is talking about.”
Mel snorted, “I thought not.”
She turned away to put her environmental suit’s helmet on, but left the visor open. The oxygen sensor on her wrist would give her enough warning to close it if need be. The narrow corridor ahead swallowed the light cast by her helmet lamp.
“Why’s the artificial gravity still up?” she asked.
“The gravity-plate power system has capacitor back-ups,” Fenris said. “Artificial gravity will drop off over the next couple hours. At current power usage, you have eight hours before I cut radiation shielding.”.
CHAPTER X
Time: 0200 Zulu, 16 June 291 G.D.
Location: Fenris, Four days from Vagyr
“So, Fenris, tell me about yourself,” Mel said.
The ship didn’t respond for a long while. When it did finally speak, the gruff voice sounded almost irritated, “I am an autonomous warship built in the Preserve, hull constructed in the Cheyenne star system. Stone Systems Incorporated built my computer core in the Triad system on Tartarus IV.”
Mel rolled her eyes. “Okay, ask a stupid question…”
“Did you expect something else?” Mel could hear a bitter edge to Fenris’ voice.
“I suppose I shouldn’t have. You are just a computer,” Mel shrugged. “It’s just sometimes, you sound… human.”
The computer didn’t answer right away. When it did, it spoke gruffly: “Thank you.”
She snorted, “I’m not sure if you’re just good at emulation or if you actually feel.”
It was bizarre, but in many ways she felt closer to the ship than she did to her companions. Fenris was a creation that had suffered. It was unique, alone in the universe. Incredibly intelligent, and yet created only for violence.
“You could ask.” Fenris said. He sounded almost wistful.
“Do you know the answer?” she asked. “Can you tell the difference between good programming and actual emotion?”
Fenris didn’t respond.
Mel smirked a bit; it felt good to outsmart the computer. “Score one for the human.”
She peered into the gloom ahead of her and frowned. The further she went, the more… disturbed... she became. The bland and utilitarian corridors felt far more sinister when she had only her helmet lamp to illuminate them.
“The human in question should divert. The corridor you’re headed down is blocked,” Fenris said. “You’ll have to cut two corridors over.”
Mel frowned, consulting her mental map. She stopped and pursed her lips before she spoke, “I really don’t want to use that one.”
“The doors in this corridor are jammed shut, probably due to the cross-wiring of you and your companions, most likely. You can divert down that other corridor, or you can spend an hour opening each door.” Fenris sounded mildly pleased.
Mel forced herself to take calm, slow breaths. She finally responded to the ship in a tight voice; “That corridor is where Giles died.”
“Yes,” Fenris growled. “Unlike humans, my memory is not faulty.”
“Fine.” Mel growled back. She turned around to move back to the main corridor. She peered ahead into the darkness and tried to think of something, anything, besides what she was about to see. “So Fenris…” Mel said.
“Yes?”
Fenris responded.
Mel sighed, “You asked earlier about souls.”
“Yes. It is something I have wondered about since the death of your companion Giles.” Fenris sounded slightly sad.
“You wonder if he’s gone on to a better place?” Mel asked. She personally hoped so. Her stomach twisted at the thought of the man’s death; her heart fluttered at the memory of holding his hand as he died. She didn't know much about him, but she hoped that he faced something besides oblivion.
“Actually, I wanted to know about me,” Fenris growled.
“Oh.” Mel stopped. The incongruous thought, of the warship wondering if it had a soul, simply shocked her into stillness. A moment later she moved forward again. Mel walked on in silence for a long while. “Do you want to have a soul?”
“I do not know,” Fenris said.
Mel stopped again, “What?” The answer shocked her. How could anyone not want to have a soul, she wondered, to be more than flesh and bone... or circuitry and composites?
“If humans possess souls… then it is something that causes them difficulty,” Fenris said. His voice had a tone of uncertainty, she thought. Was that because his programming wouldn't allow him to think badly of humans? Or because he wasn't capable of thinking of abstracts such as souls?
“Why do you say that?” Mel asked.
“Humans are troubled by what they do, whether it is ‘good’ or ‘bad.’ All humans seem to see those things differently. From reading histories, I have found more problems due to human belief in souls and ethics than I could believe possible.” Fenris sounded bitter. “Some will do bad things for good reasons. Others have done good things for bad reasons. Humans argue with each other. They make war with one another.”
“Yes,” Mel said. “But there are good things, wonderful things accomplished by us, as well.” She frowned, “Having a soul… believing in doing good, it leads to love, family, and friendship.”