“Of course. I’d appreciate that.” Haafiz seemed to relax a little more.
Neffy zeroed in on the main point. “What does this prototype actually do?”
Haafiz seemed tentative. “That’s classified information.” He paused for a moment as if trying to decide on the best approach. He must have realized he couldn’t just say nothing. “The future of our colony depends on that technology and on us keeping it a secret at this stage. I hope you can understand.”
“I thought you’d say as much,” replied Neffy. His next question was carefully chosen. “How long has it been since the first settlers arrived on Drewdonia?”
Ally watched him. She knew what Neffy was doing. She’d watched him do this hundreds of times before, and he always got what he wanted in these conversations. Neffy could have done equally well in the Federation legal system. Ally found herself almost pitying what Haafiz was about to walk straight into.
“52 years.” He looked puzzled.
“And how long did it take for you to establish a research and development institution?” Neffy asked.
“Not long. It was one of the first things we did, following our Academy training for off-world development. We realized early on that science, technology, and engineering were going to determine our long term survival, so we made it a priority.”
“And where did you do your Academy training?” asked Neffy, almost casually. He was making these questions sound routine, to get the answers as quickly as possible.
“On New Atlantia,” Haafiz answered, picking up the pace with his responses.
“And that’s where you met Captain O’Shea.”
“Yes, that’s right,” the commander confirmed, looking a little surprised that Neffy knew so much. Haafiz looked flustered, although he was obviously trying to keep his demeanor calm and even.
Neffy continued, “How would you describe your relationship with Captain O’Shea?” It was no accident that Neffy had phrased this as an open-ended question. How Haafiz chose to answer would determine where the source of tension was. Neffy was already formulating hypotheses to test.
Haafiz’s voice was flat. “Professional,” he hesitated, then spoke again in a softer voice, “It’s professional…now.” Clearly he didn’t want to be caught misleading their investigation, and he figured they probably already knew.
“You’re implying that wasn’t always the case?” asked Neffy. He swiped on his holo again to give the impression he was reading his notes. In reality he just didn’t want to make Haafiz feel too self-conscious by staring at him during this personal line of questioning.
“Yes.” Haafiz looked at the floor. “We used to be…together. When we were at the Academy, and for a short time afterwards.”
“And what happened to end the relationship?”
Haafiz’s voice was uncomfortable, as if he wasn’t quite happy with how he’d handled the situation. “I got married.”
Neffy looked up. He had suspected that there was a rift between them, considering that the communication between them had simply stopped. No argument. No goodbye. No nothing.
“How did you leave things with Captain O’Shea at that point?” Neffy picked up the questioning, and turned his eyes back down to his holo notes.
“Well, that’s the thing. I didn’t. I returned to Drewdonia for a short break to see my parents, and I met the woman who was later to be my wife. My mother talked me into staying, my father wasn’t well, and weeks turned into months. By the time I decided to stay, I just didn’t know what to say to Eryn.”
Neffy wasn’t there to judge Haafiz’s social life, but this certainly gave Xena a reason to have an issue with the man. Would it be enough to spark this scale of conflict? That seemed very unlikely.
“Thank you for being frank with me, Commander Haafiz. This helps me understand the personal dynamic that has been at play since we arrived here. Now, tell me, how soon after the settlers arrived was the Drewdonian R&D Institute established?”
“Soon, I’d say,” Haafiz responded, looking relieved to be on a less personal topic again.
“Before the original terraforming domes were put up?”
“After. We started with ten domes, and have since added another five.”
“So how long did it take to establish the ten domes?” Neffy asked.
“About 20 years if I recall correctly.”
Neffy was narrowing down the timeline. That meant the soonest the project could have started was 30 years ago.
“And when did you join the colony?” he asked, keeping his voice and pace even so as not to arouse suspicion.
“About 5 years after that.”
“And as far as you know, was the R&D project already running when you got there?”
“No. I was one of the founding members of the institute,” he replied.
That would have been 25 years ago, Neffy thought. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Ally keeping tabs on the timeline, too.
“And how long had you been at the colony before this R&D project was established?” he asked.
“Two years.” Haafiz was aware now that Neffy was leading him somewhere. He was starting to get suspicious as to where this was going.
23 years ago.
“So the soonest the R&D project could have commenced was 23 years ago?”
“Yes, Captain.” Haafiz was too perplexed by these strange questions to be impatient.
“I’d like you to consider a few facts for me, Commander. First, that New Atlantian society has been developing for more than 300 years. Second, that they have several hundred times more essential resources and infrastructure than you. Third, that they are no longer concerned about matters of survival, as Drewdonia will be for generations. Fourth and last, that you have a total population of around 5000 adults and have been working on research and development for no more than 23 years. Bearing all those facts in mind, are you telling me you’ve managed to develop a prototype that is so advanced and ground-breaking that the New Atlantians would travel 630 light years to steal it?”
Haafiz flared up. “You T3 types are all the same! You always have to bring up how primitive and backward we colonists are. As if any of you would do any better under the circumstances! Do you have any idea how little we actually started with, how little we get from a supply run under the best of circumstances? Making do is what we do. And we made do!”
Neffy’s tone was soothing. “No one is questioning the resourcefulness or ingenuity of your colony or its people. You’re absolutely right, there’s a hard limit to how much gear and raw materials a supply ship can carry. I know how much skill and creativity it must have taken just to get your settlement up and running with such limited resources. I’m just trying to clarify what happened here. You’re telling me your engineers – with all those problems to occupy their time – made some sort of breakthrough even the New Atlantians would envy? Help me understand this.”
“Yes. That’s what I’m telling you.” Haafiz obviously felt stupid. His story wasn’t stacking up. Neffy could see the frustration mounting behind his eyes, the holoscreen barely distorting it at all. Neffy was watching for signs that he might be anxious about potentially being caught in a fabrication. He couldn’t detect anything. The man was agitated, but he wasn’t lying.
Time to bring it home, Neffy thought to himself.
“Certain information has come to our attention over the past few hours, and I was wondering if you could clarify it for us. Before I say anything, I want you to know that we haven’t shared this information with Captain O’Shea and her team. Understood?”
Haafiz nodded warily. “Understood.”
Neffy continued, “There doesn’t seem to be a trail of evidence regarding this prototype. The first reference we could find to its existence is in your own message reporting its theft. Before you told your Commander in Chief of its disappearance, there is no indication it even existed.”
Neffy paused, allowing the implications to sink in.
Comm
ander Haafiz was getting the sense that he was no longer in control of the conversation. Or the conflict.
Haafiz started talking quickly, “It’s a top-secret project. You’re not going to find any records non-locally on any system.” A predictable response.
Still no micro-expression to suggest he was experiencing anything other than baseline anxiety. No signs of deception or suppression of cues. Shit. Neffy had been hoping this would break the whole thing open.
He changed direction smoothly. “I appreciate that Commander, and that’s why we’d like permission to come and access that data for ourselves, via your onboard e-DNA system. I’m assuming your systems are tapped into Drewdonia’s network?” He knew full well the answer was yes, but he also knew that careful phrasing would get him what he wanted faster, and with less hassle.
“Of course,” Haafiz confirmed.
“Excellent. Let me make some transport arrangements and I’ll be in touch shortly.” Neffy smiled at him. He knew the effect a well-placed smile had, if it seemed friendly and genuine. He felt the man warming up a little, even if he did still look very uncomfortable about the implications of this line of inquiry…and with having Federation agents on his vessel.
If he had nothing to hide, then this was going to be straightforward.
Commander Haafiz nodded with obvious reluctance before terminating the holo.
Neffy closed the blank holo-dash, and swung round in his chair to look at Ally. Ally was processing. She held up a finger, signaling to Neffy to give her a second. She was likely re-watching and analyzing all the data she had just recorded.
“Looks like he’s telling the truth to me,” she said a few seconds later.
“Yeah, that’s what I got too. And the man has a point. People back on T3 always seem to think we can just ship in everything a colony needs in a few weeks, when even doing it in 70 years is quite a feat. Those engineers on the colony worlds do have to think creatively just to make things work at all. There’s at least an outside possibility one of them could have stumbled on something new and amazing. But the Trent intel is in direct conflict with this. I felt sure that Haafiz was dodgy after I got Trent’s e-DNA message, even though my gut had originally told me otherwise.”
“And what’s your gut telling you now?” asked Ally.
“That’s the problem,” Neffy sighed, “It’s all messed up. I just don’t know now.”
“That is a problem,” said Ally. She was serious, and looked professionally concerned rather than sympathetic.
“Agreed. I mean, if I can’t trust my gut to read people, then what am I missing? Intuition is what makes us good at what we do. And keeps us alive.”
Neffy started mentally unraveling all the consequences they might face if he couldn’t trust himself to catch the reality of the situation. He knew it was all wrapped up in his deep-rooted need to have Trent’s approval, but he didn’t know how he was going to untangle from it. This drive to prove himself in Trent’s eyes had been going on for years now, and Trent’s move to Reykjavik had only made the urge more compelling.
Was it really distorting his gut instincts?
If he was wrong about Haafiz, then he could unintentionally escalate the tensions with the Drewdonians. If he was wrong about Xena, then he could be perceived as giving Federation sanction to theft and kidnapping. That would obviously have far-reaching consequences for interplanetary diplomacy, but worse than that the New Atlantians would then have a huge unearned advantage over other systems.
He couldn’t let things get that far. He’d sworn an oath, and dedicated his life to this cause – and one little dispute in a corner of the galaxy wasn’t going to put that in danger. He wouldn’t let that happen.
Setting that aside, in order to remain operational he either needed to get his head straight, or consider getting out of these high-stakes situations once and for all.
“Maybe I’ll take some time off when we get done with this, and see how the land lies after that.” Neffy wanted to show Ally he was taking this seriously now. Ally’s life, too, was also dependent on Neffy being on his game.
“That’s probably a good idea,” agreed Ally. “And you might want to consider some therapy with all that spare time you’ll have,” she added with a little wink, though probably only half joking.
CHAPTER SEVEN
UNKNOWN: No one can know its purpose. It must be destroyed.
The e-DNA message flashed up in the corner of her active holopanel, distracting her from her cross-checking. Seeing the unknown sender, Ally froze in panic. Letting the initial shock pass, she took a deep breath and flicked the messaging system open to read it properly. The quiet of the meeting room had been a welcome comfort, but now it just underscored how alone and vulnerable she was. She felt on edge, like at any moment something would break the silence and the world would collapse into chaos.
She looked back towards the door. Neffy was due back any second. He’d gone to the operations floor to speak with Xena.
Feeling the pressure to respond, Ally formulated her response and hit send.
A. MONTGOMERY: We can’t locate it. How are we going to destroy it? And how am I going to convince Neffy to go along with it?
UNKNOWN: You won’t need to. The Aegelweard will eliminate the threat. You just have to make sure they have the opportunity to fire on it.
The e-DNA messages pinged back and forth between Ally’s personal holo and the unknown e-DNA address.
A. MONTGOMERY: It nearly happened already. We got here minutes too soon. Neffy averted the missile strike.
UNKNOWN: If he gets in the way again, you’ll have to terminate him.
Ally paused. He was suggesting she kill Neffy, her partner and best friend.
Are you fucking kidding me???!!! she started to type, but then hesitated.
She’d been in a state of constant terror ever since receiving the first message, even if the feeling sometimes faded into the background for a little while. Someone out there could just erase her from existence with the press of a button.
It reminded her of a news story from about ten years before, where a woman had robbed a major bank on T3 with a bomb strapped around her body. There was still a lot of debate about whether the woman had been a willing participant in the robbery or not. If you knew you could be killed by remote-control, what could you be forced to do?
Living this way was simply hellish. She could never think about anything else for very long; concentrating at all was becoming a struggle. She’d even tried to do the job herself, stepping out in front of a car during take-off while they were home on leave. If the driver hadn’t swerved at the last moment, she would already be dead. And that was only half the problem. Since she looked like any other bot, if she was unconscious she would either be scrapped or simply reformatted in a rebuild.
She shuddered at the thought, then brought her attention back to what this monster was telling her to do.
A. MONTGOMERY: I can’t do that.
She waited.
Maybe holding her ground would work. Maybe there would be another way. Maybe it was just a test to see what she would do, and this was all just a very bad joke.
Ally started to feel mentally foggy, a sign that her mind was processing too many things at once. She remembered when she used to have a human body; the sensation of fear in her chest. She could almost feel it rising in her synthetic body even though it wasn’t possible. She didn’t have adrenaline, or cortisol. In a sense, that was part of the problem. Without the physical sense of fear, the only thing she had was existential horror. The idea of simply being turned off, like a bedside lamp – whenever she tried to think about it, she shied away from the thought. And just as she couldn’t feel the physical sensations associated with fear, she also had no access to the techniques other people were able to use to calm themselves. She couldn’t meditate to lower her heart-rate or slow her breathing down. She was all alone with the thought of absolute extinction, and she just couldn’t face it.
Still no response.
Maybe she was going to be switched off just for her insubordination?
The room around her felt huge and isolating as she waited, her attention rapt on the arrival of a message that never came.
Another moment passed. Then another.
Then a message flashed up.
UNKNOWN: Do I need to remind you that your existence in that synthbot is contingent on your loyalty?
Ally felt relief at receiving the message, even though it wasn’t anything good. She figured if this person was communicating with her, he wasn’t switching her off. At least for now, her consciousness had not been erased from the machine she inhabited.
She should comply, she thought.
A. MONTGOMERY: No.
UNKNOWN: Flick of a switch, Ms. Montgomery. Flick of a switch.
Ally felt absolutely helpless, absolutely powerless. She could be permanently deleted at any moment, from any planet or ship in the entire galaxy. Worse than that, she hated herself for not being stronger. Was she really such a coward that she could be blackmailed into doing something so unforgivable?
UNKNOWN: Terminate Mr. Klingerman if he interferes with the Aegelweard destroying the prototype.
She hesitated. She couldn’t refuse. Maybe when it came to it, she could find a way to get Neffy out of here and back to safety, let the Drewdonians destroy whatever the prototype was, and then figure out who was pulling her strings on the other end of this e-DNA channel.
At that moment, the door to the meeting room slid open, and Neffy walked in, smiling, and holding a mug of what could only have been macca. He saw Ally was mid-communication and nonchalantly sat himself down at the table, too. He pulled open the holo documents they’d been working on and started reading.
Ally needed to respond to the e-DNA.
A. MONTGOMERY: Acknowledged.
She flicked the holo closed before Neffy could ask about it.
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