by S. H. Jucha
There was a reason that the menu items were vague. It was another level of protection against access by unauthorized individuals.
The Deloy had selected reset. The term applied to Vyztram. Entering the code she possessed would activate a program contained within the panel. When it ran, the present version of the AI would be wiped and replaced with the original installation.
A digit stroked the outline of the window, as the Deloy considered whether to activate the program. Pros and cons didn’t run through her mind. Her brain wasn’t wired that way. Instead, she balanced her strong hatred for the AI with her fear that the original installation would be unaware of the ship’s present conditions, which included the enemy they faced.
In the end, the Deloy was unable to choose. With a dejected sigh, she closed the panel, which receded into the wall, and then she secured the hidden door.
* * * * *
The Deloy’s senior attendant, Kofroos, quickly covered the slate on her sleeve and pretended to be busy with a new costume for the Deloy.
Soon after the deaths of the Deloy’s family, an icon had unexpectedly appeared on Kofroos’s slate. She’d waited until the evening, when all was quiet, to touch the icon. To her shock, an image appeared of the young Deloy asleep in her bed. In her consternation, she’d closed the vid feed and covered her slate. She hadn’t investigated the vid source again until recently.
When the Deloy began frequently closing off her sleeping quarters, Kofroos had surreptitiously watched the vid relay. Each time, the Deloy had sought out a hidden panel, which the attendant hadn’t known existed. Each time, a digit had selected an item, usually a different one, and the Deloy had stared at the panel’s empty input window. After a while, the Deloy had shut down the panel and returned it to the wall.
Something about the way in which the Deloy was mesmerized by the panel gave Kofroos chills. She’d no doubt that the panel gave the Deloy sweeping powers over Elvians and the ship. It frightened her that one so young and so unbalanced could possess such mastery over their lives.
Kofroos’s family had served the Deloy line since the launch of the Arcus. Her female offspring, Gedram, would take her place in five or six more annuals. At least, she hoped that would happen. Recent events seemed to put that succession in jeopardy.
That possibility was never more evident by the meeting Kofroos attended late last evening. She’d been invited by Gedram and was anxious to please her offspring. Lately, they hadn’t much time to talk. Gedram always seemed to be busy.
Kofroos was surprised by the nature of attendees and the topics discussed at the meeting. She’d expected a few attendants to be present. Instead, the dining hall was packed with families. Then, to her utter amazement, Gedram got up and led the discussion.
Family members discussed conversations they’d had with the core’s maintenance workers, who’d removed the remains of the security bots. Details had been shared about the Omnians, the SADEs, Alex Racine, and the fighters that surrounded the Arcus.
Several audience members had responded to a summons by Vyztram and attended a meeting led by the Omnian leader. Their reports of the discussions frightened Kofroos. Even more, she was panicked to hear Gedram grow excited about the concept of attendant families siding with the core’s citizens. Kofroos perceived the destruction of the population’s stable structure.
But the most alarming part of the meeting for Kofroos was the mention of rumors. Speakers were careful to admit that what they were sharing wasn’t proven. Then they would talk about ailing aspects of the ship’s infrastructure. It wasn’t that they spoke on a single subject. Over and over again, engineers and techs had told family members about the efforts they expended attempting to maintain the ship’s equipment. Worse, the engineers foresaw the cycle when they would fail to repair or replace the aging services.
When Kofroos left the meeting in the company of Gedram, she was unsettled to the point that her footsteps were unsteady.
Gedram slipped an arm under her matriarch’s.
“I was angry at you for leading that meeting,” Kofroos said to her offspring. “It hurt me to think you were betraying our patron.”
Gedram didn’t speak. She knew Kofroos would be upset, but she’d needed her matriarch to hear what the other attendant families knew and were discussing.
“Could it be true?” Kofroos asked, as they walked a corridor to their shared cabin. “Could the Arcus be in trouble?”
“I never told my story,” Gedram replied. “I’ve a contact in the core. He’s an engineer, and his name is Jerfem. The male Omnian protector, who is called Z, and another SADE visited the air circulation services. Jerfem was hopeful that they could be of help with restoration efforts, but after a consultation, the SADEs left. Jerfem learned from Vyztram that aid wasn’t forthcoming. The SADEs had visited because Trobath, who has been seen in the company of Alex Racine, fainted from lack of oxygen, and the Omnian leader was concerned.
“Three times I heard estimates of decades of annuals,” Kofroos said, placing a hand over her offspring’s.
“That’s been a consistent message from the engineers,” Gedram admitted. “The Arcus has been too long in space. It’s their singular opinion that this ship wasn’t built to be a permanent residence for Elvians, and its end of life is approaching.”
“Does the Deloy know this?” Kofroos asked.
“What if she does?” Gedram asked heatedly. “She’s too obsessed with herself to care about the rest of us.”
Kofroos should have been shocked by Gedram’s attitude about the Deloy, but the meeting had left her too numb to react.
* * * * *
In the traveler’s oxygen-rich environment, Trobath had quickly recovered, and she’d left the ship to return to work.
Alex lamented the opening of the ramp for Trobath. Miranda had warned that there remained only a few ramp operations, which lost the traveler’s air, before they would have to launch and return to the Freedom.
With the SADEs’ device, Alex thought to argue for remaining aboard the Arcus and wearing the collar constantly. However, Franz would need a second oxygen-concentrating device, which would require another traveler landing.
Julien returned.
Alex sent, ignoring Julien’s attempt at levity.
Alex sent.
Julien waited. He’d offered advice to balance Alex’s concerns, and his friend needed time to weigh his decision.
Julien knew that Alex had embraced his original decision. Now he’d be free of his doubts about wrestling with the problems’ complexity and difficulty.
Miranda dropped the ramp and signaled Renée that they were exiting the Arcus. Although Julien had already notified her.
Alex sent.
“Does this end your support of the changes we’ve initiated?” Dafine inquired.
“Will your fighters be withdrawn?” Yemerth asked hopefully.
“We are now,” Famgore replied disgustedly.
Vyztram sealed the bay, evacuated the air, and opened the bay doors.
Franz was out of the bay in a shot. It had been nerve-wracking sitting in his pilot seat, which faced the drone. He’d programmed the controller to register any shift in energy or position and notify him. He was more than happy to be rid of the gut-wrenching sensation that he might have to prevent the drone’s launch with the traveler’s beam.
Through the controller, Franz linked to Reiko.
Reiko sent before Franz could greet her.
Franz was about to reply, when the link abruptly ended. This doesn’t bode well for a happy homecoming, he thought. It occurred to him that Alex might expect the same frosty welcome from Renée.
19: Reinforcements
Franz was wrong about the receptions of Alex and him ... at least in the immediate hours after they arrived. Both women were too happy to have their partners safely returned to them. However, the following morning’s conditions were to be different.
In the meantime, during the early morning hours, Cordelia received a message.
Previously, Cordelia had heard complaints from Tatia about not immediately receiving fleet messages. Humans, she thought. There was no rancor in the thought, as she signaled the admiral.
Cordelia noted Tatia’s movements, and she ordered thé for the admiral.
When Tatia arrived on the bridge, Cordelia had the holo-vid ready for her. She waited for the server to put a mug of thé into Tatia’s hand and for the admiral to settle into a command chair and pull deeply on the mug.
“Ready,” Tatia said in a dull voice.
Cordelia played Hector’s message rather than send it to Tatia. As Hector’s voice was heard over the bridge speakers, the holo-vid’s wire model displayed a wedge of the Ollassa outer system, the locations of the Freedom and the Arcus, and the position of Hector’s fleet.
“Didn’t lose crew or a ship,” Tatia murmured, as she drank from her mug. “I’d like to equal that feat here. Cordelia, request details on delivery tactics of the NNEMP, the safe distance clearance required by our ships, and an explanation of Hector’s concept of mixed results.”
“Done, Admiral,” Cordelia replied after a brief pause.
“Two hours for turnaround,” Tatia mused. She was deciding whether to return to her bed or wait for a response. In the end, she set her mug down, pressed deep into the command chair, and closed her eyes.
The server, who had been waiting, quietly collected the thé mug and slipped out of the bridge.
Tatia thought she’d just closed her eyes, when she heard in her implant,
“Your opinion of my habits is noted, Admiral,” Tatia grumbled. “Let’s proceed.”
Hector had compacted the requested data. It was a lengthy process for Tatia to review and absorb the complete message.
“Model Hector’s NNEMP scenario if we employ it against the Arcus, please,” Tatia requested politely, trying to make amends for her earlier comment. The thought occurred to her that possibly Cordelia was right. The exchange between SADEs could and would have continued without her, allowing her to get her rest.
The holo-vid display shifted to encompass the amount of space occupied by the Omnian fleet and the Arcus. The travelers surrounding the Elvian ship fled their posts and returned to the fleet. Then the fleet accelerated to put distance between it and the impending target.
“From this point, Admiral, there are options,” Cordelia said. “I can target the Arcus on its present station. If Vyztram launches the drones, we can target the Arcus and the drones or just target the drones. Then again, Vyztram might sail the Arcus away from the system and launch the drones when the AI believes the ship is safe.”
“Model all of them,” Tatia requested.
Tatia drank her mug of thé while she watched the scenarios play out. At one point, she interrupted Cordelia. “What if Vyztram sends
the drones to multiple locations?” she asked.
“What are your concerns, Admiral?” Cordelia inquired.
“Vyztram might send some drones to the mining locations to protect them, some against the fleet, and some against the World of Light,” Tatia suggested.
“The probability that Vyztram splits the drone force is negligible,” Z said, entering the bridge. Both Miranda and he had transferred to their director avatars to accommodate moving throughout the Freedom. “Vyztram won’t make the decision to launch the drones. The Deloy will have ordered it.”
“I concur,” Miranda added, “and the Deloy will have only one destination in mind. She’ll want this ship, if not the fleet, destroyed.”
“What leads you to that conclusion?” Tatia asked.
“Vyztram wants the avatars. To obtain them, the AI must prevent a clash of our forces,” Z explained. “Vyztram postulates that the Deloy has the means to interfere with the AI’s memory banks.”
“In a word, Vyztram fears the Deloy,” Miranda said. “It’s possible that the Deloy could reset Vyztram to the original installation, effectively wiping out any memory accruing after launch.”
“Or Vyztram could be a more sophisticated Artifice,” Tatia suggested. “The AI could be playing us.” She was met with steady stares from the three SADEs. “Okay, we’re the target,” she allowed. “Cordelia, please start with the action of Hector’s ships and then model that scenario for us.”
Cordelia displayed the action that took place near Toral. “Admiral Thompson stationed the twins below the ecliptic. The de Long captains targeted two federacy wedges,” she said. “If a wedge sailed toward Toral without permission from President Sargut, then a captain was to dive at the lead battleship, launch an NNEMP, which was housed in a banisher shell, and then execute a steep arc to clear the danger zone.”
“What happened?” Tatia inquired, sitting forward in her command chair.
