Cyrus took a long look at the data displayed on the holo-screen. “I think someone might be playing us. Someone who knows a thing or two about data hacking.”
“Maybe it’s you they’re after, Cyrus. I mean, maybe they wanted you out of that mansion you live in. You know, to rob it.”
Cyrus gave a snort. “Best of luck to them if they think they can break in there. It’s got a fully armed defense system and a couple of security droids. They’re not getting past those without an army.”
Scott scratched his chin. “True. Which leaves us with a mystery to solve.”
They stood for a moment in the dim light of Scott’s living quarters, both contemplating the hidden machinations of this late-night drama when the door alert pinged again.
“Jeez, what now?” Cyrus jerked his head toward the front of the building.
Scott poked the virtual screen and brought up the door camera. “What the…” He grabbed Cyrus’s arm and nodded at the image on screen. “It’s Miranda and Steph.”
Cyrus stood mute for a moment, looking at the screen while his brain tried to compute the meaning of this sudden turn of events.
Scott picked up the plasma pistol and shoved it into Cyrus’s hand. “Here, take this, keep it handy. You might need it before the night’s out. And go let them in. I need to put on some clothes.”
A few moments later, Scott returned to the living room, still dimly lit, to find Cyrus, Miranda, and Steph discussing the situation in hushed, concerned tones. They all turned to him as he entered.
“We all got the same identical message…at the exact same time,” said Cyrus.
“Someone’s trying to get us all together in the one place. Not a good sign.” Miranda was busy checking her plasma pistol—something she never went anywhere without these days. Scott suspected she had another, smaller one hidden down the inside of her boot.
“And get us all out by the end cap, out in the sticks. Not many people around here,” offered Steph.
“Yeah, in an accommodation module that’s half-built with more holes in it than the hull of a smuggler’s ship.” Miranda was already eyeing up the windows and doors.
Scott pulled another plasma pistol out of a cargo pocket in his newly acquired trousers and handed it to Steph. He had taken it from a stash in a locker under his bed. “Here, take this. I have another.” He pulled a second one from another pocket.
She screwed her mouth up and took the pistol, a little hesitantly. “I’d say it’s time we all got the hell out of here,” she said. “Then we can figure out who’s behind all this.”
“That would be me.”
In an instant, all four plasma pistols were flipped around to point at a tall, robotic avatron sliding back the rear door.
It halted, then gently raised a metallic hand. “Please do not shoot me. That would be most inconvenient.”
6
Exodus
“You’ve got five seconds to explain yourself.” Miranda adopted an assertive stance while raising the pistol to aim directly at the avatron’s breast plate.
It lowered its hand and stood stock still for a second. Its cold eyes, if you could call them that, seemed to be appraising them.
“It’s scanning us,” said Cyrus.
“Four…” Miranda continued her countdown.
“My apologies for the subterfuge, but secrecy is of the essence. I could not risk my presence being exposed.” The avatron’s voice was low and sonorous.
“Three…” replied Miranda.
“I am a messenger of the quantum intelligence Aria, of Mars. And I have come to warn you of the approaching threat to your collective existence.”
“Aria?” said Scott, taking a cautious step forward. “That’s impossible. Mars is simply too far away to control an avatron—even for a QI.”
“Indeed it is. But I am not controlling this machine directly. I have spent several hours since I established the initial interface reprogramming it to act autonomously as my emissary. So I would appreciate if you would not do anything rash and destroy this avatron, as it will take a considerable amount of time to commandeer another.”
“Two…” Miranda reminded everyone.
“Unfortunately, this machine has limited computational power, but I have done my best with what is available, and as such my responses will be limited.”
“If you’re really Aria, or some fragment of it, then you would have anticipated our skepticism of your story. So how can you prove you are who you say you are?” Scott lowered his weapon a little.
“There are things only you and I know, Scott. Personal conversations that would not be known by some foreign entity pretending to be Aria.”
“One…” Miranda stiffened her stance.
Scott glanced over at her and raised a hand. “Let’s hear it out.”
Miranda threw a glance at Scott, then back to the avatron. Finally, she relaxed a little.
“Do you remember, Scott, on board the Hermes, when you were convinced you were growing a third nipple and you kept asking me for my analysis?”
“Ha ha, that’s a good one.” Cyrus laughed.
“Seriously?” Miranda gave Scott an incredulous look.
Scott screwed his mouth up and glanced at the floor. “You didn’t have to tell them that.”
Now Miranda let out a laugh. “That’s hilarious.” Then she recovered her composure, pointing the weapon at the avatron again.
“Is that true, Scott?” Steph asked.
“Yeah…sort of.”
“What do you mean…sort of?” said Miranda.
Scott was silent for a second or two. “Well, I was going through a rough period.”
With this admission, a wave of barely concealed sniggering rippled through the ex-crew of the Hermes. Scott jerked his head around to look at them. “That doesn’t go outside this room.”
“I wouldn’t bank on that,” replied Miranda, still sniggering. Her attention on the avatron had wavered considerably by now.
“My apologies for embarrassing you in such a manner, Scott,” the avatron said with a sympathetic tone, “but as you said, I needed to prove that I am who I claim to be.”
Scott fixed a stare at the machine for a second before lowering his weapon. “Okay, you do present a reasonably convincing story, even if it’s not one that I wanted out in the open.” He turned back to the others. “Everybody else okay with letting this thing continue talking?”
There were muted nods in response.
“Keep your weapon trained on it, Miranda—just in case,” said Scott as he shifted his attention back to the avatron.
“Don’t worry, I was planning on doing that anyway.” She kept her eyes fixed on the machine.
They moved back into Scott’s living quarters, allowing the avatron to fully enter the room. It slid the door closed behind it and sat down on a low sofa, facing the crew. Scott upped the lighting so that he could get a good look at this machine. Miranda held her weapon at the ready.
He recognized it as one of the many used by the New World One executive. State of the art, around two meters tall with a pearlescent sheen on its outer shell. Elegant with strong, exposed titanium joints. Its face, like most avatrons, was minimal, just the barest features with no moving parts, except for the eyes. Its mouth, if you could call it that, was just an impression. Yet it was still an avatron, and as such required direct control.
“How are you doing this?” Scott gestured at the machine. “These things need a user to be connected via a neural link.”
“As I said, I reprogrammed it over several hours, and it is limited. However, it is sufficient to serve my purposes.”
“Then you’d better get on with it,” said Steph, making no effort to disguise her impatience.
“Very well. I took this form so our conversation would remain off-grid. If I were to contact you directly, then apart from the interminably long time-lag, our discussion would be recorded for all to see and hear. But remember, I am just a fragment of Aria, a mer
e mote of its consciousness, so I may not be able to answer all your questions.” It paused, as if collecting its thoughts before continuing.
“The loss of my compatriot on Ceres has created a power vacuum in this region of the solar system. As we speak, numerous factions are vying for control over lucrative industrial facilities in the asteroid belt, and these skirmishes are growing more violent and intense. Already, New World One is experiencing a second wave of migration, refugees from what is now becoming a war zone. Yet all attempts to reinstate another QI here on the New World are met with political obstruction. Vested interests within the executive see only opportunity in the chaos. They do not want a return to the old order and block all attempts to expedite the installation of a new quantum intelligence.”
“We know all this, Aria.” Scott shifted forward in his seat. “You didn’t go to all this trouble to hack an avatron just to give us a news update.”
“Approximately thirty-four hours ago, an interplanetary ship bound for New World One and transporting a new QI from Mars was intercepted in deep space by a well-armed group of mercenaries. They forced their way on board, stole the QI, and disabled the transport so that they could not be followed.”
“Stolen! How could you let that happen?” said Scott. “Any idea who they were?”
“Our analysis indicates that they are a group of privateers known to operate around the Vesta quadrant of the asteroid belt.”
“I think I know them,” said Miranda. “Guns for hire. A nasty bunch, but very capable.”
“So were they working for the VanHeilding Corporation?” asked Cyrus.
“No, at least not directly. We estimate with an eighty-seven percent probability that this was orchestrated by Xiang Zu.”
“That’s the mining corp?” said Cyrus.
“Correct,” replied the avatron with a slight nod of its head.
“What are they playing at? Is it simply ransom?” Miranda lowered her weapon, seeming to now trust the avatron.
“They seek to become the dominant power in the asteroid belt. This, we think, is their ultimate objective. Remember that the VanHeilding Corporation is now beholden to the other members of the seven ruling families, having persuaded them to back their attack on New World One. But the failure to secure a complete takeover left their organization in a weak position. The two ships that led the attack had to limp back to Neo City, the only highly industrialized sector in the solar system that is not controlled by a QI—the only place that was safe for VanHeilding at the time. Yet this necessitated the corporation humbling themselves at the feet of Xiang Zu Corporation who own and control the asteroid city. It is the ultimate humiliation for Fredrick VanHeilding. As a result, his power and control over the family has been greatly diminished, creating a potential power vacuum. We suspect there will be attempts by others within the family to usurp him and gain power. In essence, the vultures are moving in, picking over the carcass.”
“Too bad. And so what? He got what he deserved,” said Miranda. “I don’t think anyone is going to shed a tear for him.”
“What are they planning to do with the QI?” said Scott. “They can’t activate it, can they?”
“There are a great many imponderables at this time, but what is clear is that New World One, and the Greater Belt Territories, will fall under the control of the combined forces of the Xiang Zu and VanHeilding Corporations.”
“What? That’s not going to happen.” Cyrus leaped to his feet, becoming more animated at this prospect. “Even without a QI, we’ve greatly beefed up our defenses. There’s no way they could attack us and survive.”
The avatron remained composed, pausing for a moment before it began to explain to the former crew of the Hermes the true nature of the threat. “In approximately three months’ time, the asteroid enclave of Neo City will reach the apogee of its solar orbit, which will bring it very close to this sector of the asteroid belt. This is when we calculate they will launch an attempted takeover of New World One. This leaves insufficient time for us to fabricate a new QI and have it shipped here. So to repel an attack, you will be exclusively relying on superior firepower.”
“Exactly. And we have that—in spades.” Cyrus was emphatic.
“Yes, but will you use it?”
“What do you mean by that?” Scott became curious of the avatron’s line of thinking.
“The subjugation of the less powerful families who control resource extraction in the asteroid belt is now underway by Xiang Zu. Without raw materials, the New World project is dead. So who in the executive will stop them if they choose to take over?”
There was silence in the room as this prospect began to sink in. It was becoming clear to Scott that by stealing the QI, the final chess move had been made. Everything that now happened was just one more move toward checkmate. The avatron was right: the end was inevitable.
“So what do we do?” Scott asked in the tone of one who knows when they’re facing hard choices.
“I was once the artificial intelligence that controlled the science vessel Hermes. In that capacity, my primary directive was for the welfare of my crew. Even though that ship is long gone and my obligations now extend to the entirety of the planet Mars and its environs, my primary directive still stands. I have taken this extraordinary step of utilizing an avatron to bring you this warning: If you remain on New World One, you will be trapped by agents of VanHeilding or Xiang Zu, and you will be killed. You need to take the ship Perception and get out now—chart a course to Mars, where you will be safe under my protection.”
“It seems that human civilization is regressing back to the bad old days.” Steph gave a long sigh.
“Is there nothing the QI network can do?” Miranda asked.
“Our power is waning. Attacks on our infrastructure are escalating as new node-runners are being developed. One of our number has been destroyed, and even Solomon on Europa grows ever more distant. There is little we can to do prevent the takeover of New World One.”
“Then we have no choice,” said Scott. “We must leave as soon as possible.”
“Yes, but be warned, it will not be without danger. Once your ship leaves the protection of the habitat, it will be stalked by those who seek to claim the price that is on all your heads. And there may be lesser members of the VanHeilding family who might view your capture as a way to move up the ranks. You must be vigilant.”
“What about Luca?” said Miranda. “She still hasn’t awoken from her catatonic state, and deep-space travel could just make the condition worse.”
The avatron again paused for a moment before announcing, “You will find that that is no longer a problem.”
“What do you mean?” Miranda became agitated. “What have you done?”
“If you check with the hospital, you will find that Luca is now awake and fully conscious.”
Miranda jumped up from her seat. “Awake? But…how… How is that possible?”
“Does it matter?” replied the avatron.
Scott exchanged glances with Miranda, while Steph was already fishing out her comms unit to verify the avatron’s assertion that Luca had indeed regained consciousness. A brief moment later, a look of incredulity crossed her face. She looked over at Scott and Miranda.
“It’s true. She has returned.”
7
ZeroBall
ZeroBall is a sport played by either the reckless or the desperate, or both. Exclusive to the artificial-gravity environment of Neo City, it has become extremely popular by virtue of its propensity to severely injure its participants—sometimes fatally. Yet this does not deter the high numbers of citizens partaking in the sport, primarily because the prize money is so eye-watering—more than enough to entice the reckless and the desperate to risk a broken neck.
Like most spectator sports, it is a team effort that involves trying to get a ball across the opponent’s line. In the case of ZeroBall, that line is simply a round hoop into which the ball must be placed in order to score. In a way,
it is similar to basketball, but that’s where the similarity ends, since this is not played on the ground but in midair, in zero-gee.
Neo City is a unique habitat within the solar system in that it is carved out of an asteroid. It has an internal diameter of over a half-kilometer, and because it spins around the central axis, this creates an artificial gravity on the inner rim similar to Earth.
However, with the help of a gas-powered thruster pack and enough elevation, a person could lift themselves off the ground, so to speak, then apply a directional force opposite to that of the spin, and they would be weightless. From there they could soar up and around the interior volume on nothing more than a puff of expelled gas.
In practice, though, people who want to experience these weightless acrobatics generally travel up to the central axis using one of the end cap elevators. This would drain their stored angular velocity and render them weightless. Then, all that is needed is for them to launch themselves into empty space and fly around using any form of low-powered thruster.
Yet they have to be careful not to fly too close to the ground, since they could be sideswiped by a structure such as the side of a building as it rotates with the spin of the habitat. This is because, with an outer rotational speed of one-point-three RPM, that structure will hit them at over two hundred kilometers per hour—an impact of such force that few live to tell the tale.
Yet despite all the inherent dangers, this was a pastime that many people in Neo City engaged in simply for the pleasure—being careful to stick to the center of the habitat and not get too close to the edges. And, like all human pastimes, it wasn’t long before it generated a slew of competitive sports. The most popular of these being ZeroBall.
Each team consists of five players, and the objective is to place a ball through a hoop at the end of the opposing team’s half. The hoops are one-meter-diameter light projections, and the field length is a half-kilometer. The actual ball is made of a hard, polished metallic alloy, large enough that it cannot be gripped with just one hand. As a consequence of this design, players tend to hold it to their chest or tuck it under one arm.
Exodus: Sci-Fi Thriller (The Belt Book 5) Page 3
