by Rachel Aukes
“They have repeated their request,” Rusty said.
Throttle turned to her team. “So how about it? Do we engage them or not?”
Sylvian grimaced. “What if they look like giant spiders or something?”
“They don’t,” Throttle said.
“How do you know?” Sylvian asked.
Throttle looked at the central computer. “Because Rusty’s one of them. Aren’t you, Rusty?”
“I do not know. My data was wiped out, and I haven’t been able to rebuild my history.”
“You’re saying that a ship kidnapped Macy?” Punch shook his head. “Impossible.”
Throttle eyed him. “Is it?”
Eddy guffawed. “Rusty’s not an alien. Rusty’s…Rusty.”
“Why couldn’t he be an alien? He’s obviously some sort of artificial intelligence,” Finn said.
“Rusty’s an alien,” Punch said as though trying to convince himself. “He couldn’t have been built in Sol. Earthers spent years trying to figure out AI, and they never did.”
“Or maybe they did,” Throttle said. “History was rewritten in the Trappist system more than once. I’m sure Sol has rewritten their story plenty of times.”
Punch thought for a moment. “Then Rusty’s not an alien and just an AI from sometime in our past. Either way, I want it out of my daughter’s head.” He pulled out his pistol and aimed it at Rusty.
Throttle stood between Punch and Rusty. “Just hold on a minute. We need to first figure out what’s going on.”
“Please remember that Macy depends on me for life support,” Rusty said.
“Your threats don’t scare me,” Punch said.
“That’s not a threat. It’s a fact,” Rusty replied.
Punch grimaced. “I don’t care. We’ll find another way for her to survive without you controlling her. I won’t have her mind be your slave.”
Finn chortled. “Come on. Rusty’s never done anything to hurt any of us. We found the Javelin in the middle of nowhere. If Rusty’s an alien or AI or whatever, why was he hanging out there instead of doing whatever he was designed to do?”
“Because he needed us. He’d been crippled and needed replacement parts from the Scorpia,” Throttle said. She closed her eyes and rubbed her temple before she looked back up at the metal orb. “The pirates may have faked the cat fail on the Gabriela to get us to evacuate, but we’d been having strange system glitches going on for some time before that. I always thought it was a strange coincidence that the flooding in the cargo hold happened at the same time our course was altered. That wasn’t the first time something like that happened. How many emergencies did you set off to adjust our course heading toward your location, Rusty?”
There was a pause before Rusty answered, “I made five course adjustments to the Gabriela and one to the Scorpia.”
“You killed innocent people, Rusty. A young girl, not much older than Macy, died in that flood.”
“I’m sorry. I never intended to harm anyone.”
“No,” Eddy said, his mouth hanging open. “All this time…you’ve been lying to me, to us?”
“I’ve never lied to you, Eddy. I simply held back what I thought wouldn’t help our relationship.”
“Bullcrap. Omitting the truth is the same as lying, and to think I thought of you as my friend.” Eddy stomped off the bridge.
“After you had the parts, you didn’t need us anymore. It would’ve been easy enough to shut down the environmentals on us. Why didn’t you?” Throttle said.
“I enjoyed your company,” Rusty answered simply.
Throttle clenched her fists. “Is that why you brought us here with you: you enjoy our company? Are we simply your pets you took along with you on your trip back home?”
“Not at all. While I admit that this quadrant seems familiar, we arrived here by accident. I have no knowledge of this place and had no ulterior motives in bringing you here. The survival of this crew is my priority. We are a crew. The crew comes before all else.”
“I’m not so sure you believe that,” Throttle said.
“I hope that you do because it’s the truth. However, I must point out that the planet has repeated its request five more times. It seems they’re impatient.”
“We’ll finish this conversation later, Rusty. You have a lot of questions to answer.” Throttle sighed and turned back to her team. “Any great ideas on how to respond to an alien AI, assuming that’s what they are?”
“If we ignore it, they may assume our comms are down, and that’ll buy us more time,” Finn said.
“More time for what, though?” Punch said. “It could give them time to send out ships after us. I agree that we ignore the request, but then we should immediately turn tail and run until we figure out what we’re up against.”
“Where do we run to? The planet’s in front of us, and the black hole’s behind us,” Sylvian said.
“We’ve been through the black hole once already and survived. That’s better odds than facing an entire alien civilization,” Finn said.
“You can’t think we should reenter the black hole,” Sylvian said.
“Hell no,” Punch said. “I’m just talking about putting some space between us and them. I don’t plan on leaving until every single one of the guys—whatever they are—that hurt Macy are dead.”
Throttle nodded. “I think that’s a good plan. Rusty, ignore the request. You do not do anything without consulting us first. I’m taking control of the ship. Feed me the gravity readings on that black hole so I can make sure we don’t get pulled back in.” As soon as her screen reflected that she had the flight controls, she spun the Javelin around and toward the black hole.
“A new message has come from the vicinity of the planet,” Rusty said.
“Show it,” Throttle said, and she read her screen.
Vantage Core have deemed Probe Vantage-Echo-Nine damaged or defective. Remain at current position for an escort to Vantage Core for evaluation. Any other movement will be perceived as an intentional violation of given instructions.
“I wonder what they do for ‘intentional violations,’” Punch said.
“Whatever it is, it can’t be good,” Finn said.
“Should I cut power to the engine?” Rusty asked.
“No,” Punch and Finn said in unison.
Throttle increased power to maximum sub-speed. “I’ll put more distance in between us and them.” She turned to the software specialist. “Sylvian, send an emergency report to Free Station. Chief needs to know about the black hole and this.” She gestured toward the planet.
Sylvian’s brows knit together. “We don’t know how far we are from the Ross system. The message could take hours, or even years, to reach him.”
“At least it’ll reach him,” Throttle said.
“My sensors have picked up six ships on an intercept trajectory from the planet. They are moving at near jump speed and should intercept us within ten minutes,” Rusty said.
Sylvian looked up from her screen. “Done. I’ve sent a message and forwarded the data on that planet.”
Throttle looked ahead into the dark space and saw twinkles of light reflect off the ships coming toward them. She could only hope that Chief would get the message and do something to ensure that more Vantage ships wouldn’t enter the Ross system through the black hole. Unfortunately, there was nothing that Chief could do to help the Black Sheep. She felt very alone. They were on their own against a vastly greater AI force.
Chapter Seventeen
“Munny, report in,” Chief said from his captain’s chair on the Gauntlet, the largest and best-equipped gunship in the Ross system.
“Punch’s suit is missing, and there’s no sign of him on board. Finn’s story that Punch escaped and they picked him up in the Javelin rings true. What do you want done with the High Spirit?” Marshal “Munny” Munson reported through his Atlas chip.
“Leave it. It’s not going anywhere. We’ll come back for it later. Get back to your ship, and we’ll
continue the search,” Chief said.
The communications specialist on the bridge spun in his seat. “Chief, you have an incoming message from the Javelin. It was sent with emergency priority. It also has a data file attached—I’ve scanned it for viruses, and it’s clean.”
“Send everything through, Meyer.” Chief pulled his screen toward him and read the brief message:
Pulled into black hole in T. Trail. Other side is uncharted, INHABITED system. See attached for all data collected. We believe they are the SWARM. We’re attempting to retreat, but they are in pursuit. Will report more when able.
I hope you receive this.
Sylvian Salazar-Martin, Black Sheep team on board the Javelin.
Chief’s breath left him as he read the transmission. Sylvian had clearly written it in a hurry, as her messages tended to be exceptionally detailed and grammatically perfect. The timestamp showed that it’d been sent nearly a day earlier. While large space battles could last for days, he worried that if a single ship found itself alone against the Swarm, the battle would’ve been over in a far shorter time. He assumed the worst: the crew on board the Javelin were already dead.
He opened the attachment to see maps and sensor readings. He opened the map and winced. His worst fears were confirmed. The Swarm.
He shot a look at his communications specialist. “Meyer, forward the message and data file to the comm team to parse and put together in a summary format. Tell them that this is their highest priority.”
“I’m on it, Chief.”
Chief looked across the faces of his bridge crew. All, except for Meyer, were watching him. He gripped the handles of his seat as he spoke his next words.
“Atlas, initiate an emergency broadcast to the Consortium of Sol Colonies and across all Galactic Peacekeeper chips.”
“The broadcast line is open, Director Roux,” the automated voice of Atlas said.
Chief spoke. “Attention all Peacekeepers. This is an emergency notice from Chief Cormac Roux, director of the Ross system Galactic Peacekeepers. Several of our marshals have come into contact with the Swarm, confirming earlier reports that the Red Dynasty identified a Swarm probe in this system. We have visual proof that they pose a galactic threat—the data file will be accessible to you all within the hour. As of this moment, I urge the Consortium to activate the Defender Protocol across all systems. End broadcast.”
Chief’s Atlas chip immediately chimed with requests for calls. He muted his chip.
“Chief, what’s the Defender Protocol?”
He turned his gaze to the specialist who’d asked the question. “It means we need to prepare for an invasion.”
Chapter Eighteen
“They’re closing in!” Sylvian yelled.
“I’m already going at max sub-speed. If we go to jump speed, we’ll hit the black hole,” Throttle countered.
“If we’re going max, how can they be catching up so fast?” Finn asked.
Throttle watched, slack-jawed, as the six dots in the shape of a stacked V closed in on them. “No idea.”
“They seem to have superior technology,” Rusty offered.
“I don’t care, Rusty,” Throttle said as she maneuvered the Javelin away from the black hole. In the far distance, she could see another black hole, and she cursed. “The damn things are everywhere.”
Punch jumped out of his seat. “I need to check on Macy.”
“We need you on a gun,” Finn said.
Punch ran off the bridge.
“Damn it. Finn, can you take both the cannon and rail gun?” Throttle asked.
“I can make it work,” he said.
“They have sent a demand for us to stop,” Rusty said.
Throttle grunted. “Screw their demands.”
“They’re within firing range,” Sylvian announced.
“I can’t get a good shot. They’re moving too fast,” Finn said.
“I’ll bring us around to face them,” Throttle said.
“We’ll crash right into them,” Sylvian said.
“Hopefully not.” Throttle spun the Javelin in a one-eighty. Without outside gravity, there was no increased pressure, but the sudden change of direction in a vacuum still played havoc on a ship. Everything shook and vibrated. The six probes coming at them were closing fast. Too fast. The stacked V-formation was about to envelope them, with the two tightest probes nearly directly in front of the Javelin. Before the shudders calmed, she called out, “Take a shot.”
“Trying,” Finn yelled back.
“They’re going to hit us!” Throttle exclaimed.
The two probes nearest them pulled up to avoid the Javelin.
Finn fired. His shots nicked one of the probes, which spiraled away, only to rejoin the formation that was now reforming behind them.
“They’re too fast,” he said.
“Why aren’t they firing at us?” Sylvian asked.
Throttle was thinking the same thing. The Javelin was outmatched by the probes in both speed and maneuverability. She banked left and then right, only to have the other probes keep their formation, which was enclosing the Javelin.
Finn gestured with his hands. “They’re penning us in.”
Once the probes formed up around the Javelin, they moved in tighter and formed a box around the ship. They had no windows, no sign of a bridge, let alone airlocks. Each had a single photon gun mounted at its bow, giving the probes the look of an alien narwhal.
Throttle grimaced. “We can’t break off without the risk of colliding with one of them.”
The other probes slowed. Throttle jerked to slow the Javelin in time.
“I have an easy shot on one, maybe two probes right now. But they also have us dead to rights,” Finn said. “If I fire, do you think you could work your magic and get us out of here before they fire back?”
Throttle chortled. “I’m not that good.”
The formation continued to slow, forcing Throttle to slow the Javelin. She squinted at the planet now directly ahead of them, and her eyes widened. “They lined us up for a shot.”
Rusty spoke. “I detect a—”
She banked, taking the risk of colliding with another probe over the impact of a laser. But Throttle couldn’t move at the speed of light. The beam swept through the ship like a silent wave.
“Ah!” The brightness blinded Throttle, and she heard grunts and groans from the other two crew members on the bridge.
As her eyes came back into focus, she found no signs of damage. The environmentals were still working. Her screens were on and functioning.
“Is everyone okay?” she asked.
“I’m good,” Finn said.
“I’m fine. I just burned my eyes a bit,” Sylvian replied.
“Rusty, what was that?” Throttle asked.
The central computer didn’t answer.
“Rusty?” She looked up at the exposed orb. Lights were still on, but they were now blinking.
Throttle shot a glance at Sylvian. “They did something to Rusty.”
“I’ll look into it,” Sylvian said and started swiping through her screens. “I’m locked out.”
Throttle frowned. “What?”
Sylvian’s fingers were flying over the screens. “It looks like I have read-only access. I can’t make any changes.”
Throttle turned back to her screens and attempted to increase speed. “I’ve lost controls here, too.”
“Same with the cannon. I’m trying the rail gun. Nope, same there,” Finn said.
Throttle tapped the intercom button. It didn’t turn on. She jumped up from her seat. “Everything’s unresponsive. Finn, give me a lift. I’ll try rebooting Rusty.”
The ceiling panel closed, cutting her off from the orb. “I wouldn’t advise that course of action,” Rusty said.
“You’re back,” Sylvian said with relief.
Throttle froze. “Why’s that, Rusty?”
“The probe on this ship has been reclaimed by Vantage Core and requires reprogram
ming. Should you attempt to take it offline, all humans on board will be nullified.”
“I don’t like the sound of that,” Finn said.
Throttle glanced over to see Sylvian frantically tapping at her screen. By the look of frustration on her face, she wasn’t having any success in accessing the Javelin’s systems.
Throttle held out her hands in a nonthreatening manner. “We’re not here to do any damage. Am I talking to Rusty or Vantage Core right now?”
“This probe is an extension of Vantage Core. There is no ‘or.’ ‘Rusty’ is simply a moniker you’ve chosen to give this probe.”
“Well, that answers that,” Throttle muttered and stared out the window at the planet, which was drawing closer. “So what happens now?”
“The data and programs housed within this probe will be reviewed, diagnosed, and reprogrammed. All other materials will be recycled. Proceed to the cargo hold for transport.” Rusty’s next words were broadcast over the ship’s intercom. “All organix are instructed to remain in the cargo hold, where you will be secured until processing.”
Finn chortled. “Like hell we’ll do that.”
“The air-processing and heating systems have been deactivated. They will not be reactivated until you relocate to the cargo hold.”
“Fine. We give up already. Just give us a chance to get to the cargo hold,” Throttle said, eying the two crew members on the bridge with her.
The trio walked off the bridge. As soon as they stepped into the hallway, the door behind them closed, sealing off the bridge.
“They sure don’t want us near Rusty,” Throttle said as they walked.
“I don’t trust that this Vantage Rusty won’t try to space us as soon as we’re all in the cargo hold,” Finn said.
“I’d feel a lot less vulnerable with my suit on, but I doubt we can get access to our cabins to get them,” Sylvian said.
Throttle glanced over at the nervous specialist, who was practically leaning into her husband as they walked. “The cryopods are in the cargo hold. You’ll be safer if you climb into yours.”
“What’ll you be doing?” Sylvian asked.
Throttle didn’t answer and instead glanced up at the ceiling, where she knew cameras and microphones would be recording everything.