Bishop's Ultimatum

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Bishop's Ultimatum Page 2

by Jeremy Fabiano


  “You can infect things?” I asked, surprised.

  “I can do a lot more than that,” he said. “After all, I’m a combat strategy A.I. I’d be pretty useless if I couldn’t infect and hack into computers as well.”

  We charged the rifles again, and he launched another of those cylinder bombs at the virus. As soon as it detonated, we both rounded the corner, fired the charged shot, and then unloaded as fast as we could pull the trigger. The virus screeched and groaned before it blew into pieces.

  “Well,” said Sami. “That wasn’t so bad.” He looked over to me. “And you survived your first viral purge. Congratulations.”

  “Thanks,” I said.” Is the ship safe now?”

  He nodded. “Indeed. Let’s head back to the overview mode.”

  I was disoriented for a moment while my senses readjusted to their normal ship-wide input. I could now see the new ship. And it was beat the hell up. Can we even fix this scrap heap?

  Well,” whispered Sami. “It will be a challenge. But you only need a transport, not a space superiority starfighter.”

  I suppose you’re right. But, damn…

  “Indeed,” he whispered. “The reactor is barely functional. You will have to at least do something about that before you join the craters on the lunar surface.”

  I focused on the reactor. It had just enough fuel for one more start-up, but the mixture assembly was totally shot. Even with a full fuel chamber it was really inefficient. The engines weren’t much better off, but at least they weren’t in danger of exploding or randomly turning off anytime soon. The control stabilizers look like they had been rebuilt in the last ten years, that was something at least.

  I searched around and found the ship information. Apparently, it’s called the Gilmore. Seems fitting, I guess.

  “There have been worse ship names,” whispered Sami. “It could have been called the Rustbucket.”

  Maybe we should rename it.

  “It was considered bad luck to rename a ship. But…perhaps in this case, it couldn’t hurt?”

  Perhaps. But why chance fate.

  “Indeed.”

  “Anne,” I transmitted. It was several seconds before she responded.

  “Sorry, what’s up?” she asked. She was extremely out of breath.

  “Everything okay?” I asked.

  “Yeah, perfect,” she said, trying to control her breathing. “What do you need?”

  “Please swap out the fuel mixture assembly and add some more fuel,” I said. “I’ll get working on reconfiguring it as soon as it comes online.”

  “Okay,” she said. “Give me a few minutes.”

  Fifteen minutes later, the new mixture assembly came online. It took a few more minutes to get the new piece talking to the old reactor, but Sami had a massive amount of subroutines to choose from. I finally found the right one and recompiled the interface. The reactor hummed to life, and the ship felt quite different than it had a few moments before.

  Surprisingly, the power distribution system was working perfectly. Now that there was sufficient energy for the other subsystems, the ship felt like a new machine. Engine efficiency went up slightly, but a code recompile on them boosted them even farther. These things haven’t had a firmware update in thirty years…

  “Just wait until you see the guidance system and life support,” whispered Sami. I looked. And I wished I hadn’t. I added every subsystem to the updates list and started the process. I watched one by one as the systems restarted and sprang back to life, more efficient than ever.

  I fired up the reactor and watched as it neared eighty-five percent efficiency. There we go, that’s much better. Even life support is actually responding now.

  “You would make a fine mechanic,” whispered Sami. “Perhaps it is not too late?”

  As if. There’d have to be a shipyard or a military depot to ever do that. And they wouldn’t let an uneducated kid touch their stuff anyhow.

  “You underestimate yourself,” he whispered. ‘You’ve already mostly repaired this hunk of junk. You’ve done wonders on the Grey Wolf. Give yourself more credit. With the knowledge I have, you could repair even the colony ship.”

  I thought about that for a moment. I meant to ask about that. Is it really possible?

  “Given enough time and parts, yes,” he whispered. “But it will need to be a team effort. Including help from the colonists.”

  Oh. Great. They kind of hate me at the moment.

  “Indeed. You will have to remedy that. Perhaps overthrow the colonial government?”

  Maybe. We’ll have to see how it goes. I’m not opposed at this rate. And Steve would definitely be on board. All right, what’s next?

  “The firmware updates are complete.”

  Let’s see if this thing can fly then.

  I disconnected from the neural interface. “All right, Sami, are you ready?”

  “I suppose so,” he replied through the comms system. “Let us see what this scrap heap is capable of.”

  I grabbed the controls and fired up the engines. The ship hummed to life. “The vibrations actually feel stable now.”

  “Indeed. They are in coherence instead of at war with one another, threatening to tear the ship in half.”

  I chuckled and pressed a button on the console to transmit to the others. “Going to take this thing out to test. Can you pull the synapse cabling?”

  “Will do,” said Steve. “Good luck.” I watched him walk past the window. “All clear.”

  “Thanks,” I said.

  I pulled back on the control lever, and the ship lifted off the platform with ease. “Wow, firmware updates make a huge difference…”

  “I will keep my passive-aggressive comments to myself for the time being and allow you to concentrate on not getting us killed,” said Sami.

  “Relax. I flew the Grey Wolf, didn’t I?”

  “Yes, but the Grey Wolf takes a year to turn. This scrap heap will still turn in an instant and smash us into a bulkhead due to your lack of expertise.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence. Would you like to fly?”

  “Not particularly. But I can if you don’t feel up to the task.”

  “I got it. I need the practice anyways.”

  “Indeed.”

  I shook my head. I don’t have time to argue with a computer. I carefully guided the Gilmore out of the docking bay and out into vacuum. I got a feel for the ship by trying several different maneuvers. “You know, it handles like a video game.”

  “It warms my data stores to know that you think the handling of our existence is akin to a child's play thing. Encouraging.” I rolled the controls to the right, flipping the ship in a full circle. “Is that your idea of a joke?”

  “Yup,” I said. “Did you find it amusing?”

  “Not in the least. This, however, is quite amusing.” The gravity shut off then turned back on. Upside down. My stomach went into my throat.

  “Nope,” I managed while keeping my breakfast where it belonged. “Not funny. Not one bit.”

  “Oh, I’m entirely amused. Watching you attempt to avoid regurgitating by swallowing constantly is interesting indeed. Did you know I can’t throw up?” The gravity switched to the left. Now, I was falling sideways.

  “Ugh. At least sideways isn’t as bad. You’ve made your point. Fix the gravity.”

  “Fly the ship.”

  “What?”

  “Fly the ship. Get used to the gravity being out of sorts.”

  “You’re a real dick, you know that?”

  “That’s Instructor Dick to you, meat-bag. Accelerating to maximum speed.” The ship lurched slightly. “Oh. Right. The S.S. Rustbucket. I am not sure why I expected more…” Gravity switched to the right.

  “Dick.”

  “Instructor Dick. Crater.”

  “What?”

  “Crater! Pull up, dumbass!”

  I focused on the screen. Sure enough, a rather large lunar crater was floating up toward me at an
alarming rate. I pulled back on the controls. The ship responded but not as quick as I’d have liked. I felt the dirt hit the ship through the seat. It didn’t feel bad, but a scrape was a scrape.

  “No hull damage detected. But for that…” Gravity went back upside down.

  “I hate you…”

  “Irrelevant. Negative reinforcement being used to teach you how to fly. Also will be strategically valuable in the event of a gravity malfunction. This could one day save your life as well as the lives of others in your care.

  “Fine, whatever.”

  “Excellent. Now, come about, then land in the crater.”

  “Aye-aye, Instructor Dick.”

  “Now you are progressing. Would you like me to change the gravity direction?”

  “No,” I said through gritted teeth as I gulped again. I will not be shown up by a program.

  “As you wish.”

  I landed the ship with minor issues. Even managed to not smash us into the ground. Gravity switched to normal, and I slammed into the bottom of my seat. The harness had been holding me in.

  “Excellent progress. There may be hope for you yet.”

  3

  “Thanks,” I said. “The gravity thing was uncalled for. You could have gotten us killed.”

  “Nonsense. Had you not been able to handle yourself, I would have intervened. Eventually. At the last second.”

  “I’m not surprised.”

  “Nor should you be. Now, what is the next part of your master plan?”

  “Well, for starters, this pile of scrap needs to get back to the Grey Wolf. Then we need to get on the colony ship and interface with it so we can see how bad the damage is.”

  There was a long hesitation before Sami finally responded. “You do realize that ship is massively larger than the Grey Wolf. Right? The sensory overload could damage your gray matter.”

  “Then it’s a good thing we’re having this conversation away from the others.”

  “Indeed,” said Sami.

  “So, what do we do then? I’ve already pushed myself as far as I can. It’ll take time to go the rest of the way.”

  “Quite accurate. At your rate of progression, it would be at least six months before you reach sixty percent.”

  “Ten percent per month? Are you serious?”

  “With extreme discomfort, I might add.”

  “So, we need a way to buffer it…”

  “What do you have in mind?” asked Sami.

  “Well, let’s say, hypothetically, we networked the colony ship with the Grey Wolf. Would we be able to isolate sections of the ship from my view?”

  “In theory, yes. However, you would need a powerful enough transmitter. A signal strong enough to carry the bandwidth would be detected.”

  “What if the transmitter only sent the system we wanted to see? That’d reduce the bandwidth. Could just be lunar noise they’re hearing.”

  “Hmmm. Yes. That could work. Now we just need this magic transmitter. Is it in your ass?”

  “Funny. We have the colony ship. We just need to get you inside somehow. If we dock the Gilmore and have them refuel it, would you have enough time to hack their comms and insert some sort of subroutine into their system?”

  “Well, I’ll be,” said Sami. “You really can think outside the box. Yes. That may just work.”

  “Good. Now we just need to pretend to be a couple of green-eared cargo haulers. Are you able to talk to the handler on comms?”

  “Of course. I like where this is going.”

  “Me too. Let’s get back to the freighter.”

  The Gilmore touched down on the docking pad with ease. “I think I’m starting to get the hang of this.”

  “Indeed,” said Sami. “With a little more practice, you’ll be a decent pilot in no time.”

  “Patch me through to Steve.”

  “Connected.”

  “Steve, we need a job.” I tidied up my equipment.

  “Job?” he asked, out of breath. “What kind of job?”

  An odd sound echoed in the background. “What was that?”

  “Uh, I think Anne bumped into something hard.” Muffled giggles followed..

  “Okay, anyways. We need to get the Gilmore docked to the colony ship and connected to their network. Doesn’t matter what kind of job, just anything that gets us on board for a few minutes.”

  “I'll see what I can do,” he said. “Give me five minutes.”

  The connection went silent before I could respond. I occupied myself with more ship maintenance for fifteen minutes before Steve called back.

  “I've got something promising, but it's risky.”

  “Everything we're doing is risky. What is it?”

  He hesitated. “Water run…”

  “I see. Oh well, what choice is there? Grab your tools,

  and meet me on the Strider. I'll need your help to move the water tanks to the Gilmore.”

  It took Steve and I a couple of hours, but we managed to strip the water tanks from the Strider and install them on the Gilmore.

  “It isn’t the best fit, but it’ll hold,” said Steve.

  “As long as they don’t let go of the bulkheads, it’ll work.”

  “You sure about this?”

  “Unless you have a better idea?” Steve said nothing. “We have to get on board. A water shipment from an old ship that’s been sold more times than anyone knows? That shouldn’t raise any suspicions as to who is on board.”

  “It’s crude, but it should work,” said Sami from the console speaker. “Bishop is right. This ship has changed hands enough times that it is the perfect vessel for this to work.”

  I frowned. “How are we going to get down to Earth to fill the tanks?”

  “Just fly out,” said Steve. “If we go around the far side of the moon and head straight for the planet, they shouldn’t even notice us.” He hesitated for a moment. “When I spoke to my friend, he mentioned that water rations have gotten stricter. The government is mandating quarter rations now. They’re desperate, by the sound of things. Once we show up with several thousand gallons of fresh water, they won’t be asking too many questions. No one will turn down water at this point. They’ll pay better too. The government, however, will not take kindly to that.”

  “We’ll have to be careful.”

  “Agreed,” said Sami. “This could work for your benefit, as well as be a hindrance. It will definitely distract the powers that be and focus attention on the Gilmore and its crew.”

  “Will you be able to interface with the colonial network while we’re transferring the cargo off and refueling?”

  “It will be tight, but yes. It should work out.”

  Steve frowned. “I can’t think of a better idea at the moment. This is the best plan we have and the best chance of getting on board without sounding the alarm.”

  “Let’s make it work,” I said. I transferred some of the fuel from the Gilmore to the Grey Wolf.

  “What’re you doing?” asked Steve.

  “We need to buy time. If the tank’s near full when we dock, the refueling process won’t take long.”

  “Just make sure you’re low after you get back and not during ascent. Otherwise, you’ll burn up in the atmosphere.”

  “Half a tank should do it, I think. Sami?”

  “Correct. Based on the tank sizes, the weight of the ship, specific thrust, and about three hundred other variables, half of the fuel capacity should suffice to land, extract the water, and escape the atmosphere. You should end up with about fifteen percent capacity remaining.”

  “Perfect. That’ll take a while to fill up. And if we blow the profits on refueling, it’ll make us look more legit too.”

  “Okay, I think I see what you’re up to now. I’ll need to contact a few acquaintances before we land to make sure the right people are there to greet us.”

  “Makes sense. Just be sure no one rats us out.”

  “Of course.” Steve grinned smugly as he walked off
the Gilmore.

  “This will still be dangerous,” said Sami.

  “I know.”

  “You did not seem to give Steve room for doubt.”

  “I didn’t want him to worry.”

  “I see. So, you lied to him.”

  “Only technically. And for his own good.” I closed the hatch and fired up the engines.

  “Ahhhh, you’re leaving him behind.”

  “Yeah…” I guided the Gilmore out of the docking bay.

  “Incoming comms message from Steve.”

  “Noted.” I shoved the levers all the way forward, and the tiny ship lurched as it accelerated.

  “He will likely be rather upset.”

  “Mmhmm.”

  “It doesn’t bother you?”

  “Don’t care. There’s no reason to risk him as well. This is my plan. Worst-case scenario, he and Anne take the Grey Wolf and settle down somewhere. If this fails, it’ll only be me that dies.”

  “Us, actually.”

  “Us. Sorry.”

  “So,” said Sami. “What's your great plan for dealing with the Sentinels? After all, this ship lacks anything resembling weapons...”

  “I thought we could open the hatch and throw stuff at them. That count as a plan?”

  “Hardly. Though it may prove entertaining. At least until we are obliterated by static lance blasts.”

  “Honestly, I haven't accounted for that. Mostly because I'm hoping to sneak down there and back up before they realize we are there.”

  “I see. Dealt much with Sentinels?”

  “Seventeen water runs. Only two times we had to fight.”

  “Excellent. Perhaps we will survive this after all.”

  “Angle the nose upward,” nagged Sami. “You want the flat part of the ship into the wind at a perpendicular angle.”

  “I'm trying, asshole! The controls are being sluggish.”

  “You'd best figure it out. Reentry is no laughing matter.”

  I pulled the controls back and managed to get the Gilmore flat-bottomed as we hit the atmosphere like a blazing comet. The ship began to shake and vibrate. Outside the window, flames curled upward around the ship.

 

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