by S. H. Jucha
Alarms went off throughout the Freedom. Belowdecks, humans felt the ship shudder. It seemed inconceivable that the city-ship could transmit such motion.
Panicked male humans in the corridors and offices inundated the controller with requests for information. Unexpectedly, they found their access to the controller blocked, and they stared in shock at one another.
The chief waited a moment to ensure every link was dropped then sent a request.
The controller recited a list of the decks and interior spaces that hadn’t responded to integrity checks.
What the chief received stunned her. The city-ship resembled a plump cookie that a child had enjoyed with a big bite.
Hesitation halted the efforts of the human population. The images of the city-ship with a significant portion of its starboard side missing took some time to absorb.
The pilots were quicker than most to shake of the shock, access the bays, and signal the travelers’ activation.
SADEs and humans poured out of the ships. They received the chief’s message and discovered their links to the controller were also blocked.
One individual was admitted to the controller, and Cordelia strode quickly to the bridge to manage damage control. As she received information, she directed the efforts of SADEs to secure and mark the blast doors that now led to space. Other individuals returned to their workstations to assess the damage.
In the corridor, Alex, Renée, and Julien silently regarded one another.
“We’re still alive,” Renée said. “It appears this wasn’t our time either.”
Alex reached out and hugged his partner and best friend.
26: Who’s in Charge?
“That’s it?” the Deloy screamed at the monitor. “We lost both drone waves, and we only damaged that ship.”
“Use the drones at the harvesting locations,” the Deloy ordered. “The ship is damaged. Finish it.”
Suddenly, the slates in the room tingled.
Kofroos noticed that the Deloy wasn’t wearing hers. She searched the furniture for the communications device.
Gedram spotted the slate first and rushed to pick it up. She offered it to the Deloy, who snatched it away.
“You dare to arrive in my presence without a costume?” the Deloy declared imperiously. “Whoever you are, you’re banished to the core. Get out of my sight.”
The Deloy turned to regard the monitor and glare at the ship that had eluded her revenge. She chose not to check the message, which had borne the alert signal associated with an urgent AI communication.
“It’s the result of the count, Deloy,” Kofroos announced softly, when the Deloy’s slate buzzed again.
“It can’t be,” the Deloy objected. Then she examined her slate. “Vyztram, you were forbidden to release the results of the count.”
“Impudent AI,” the Deloy shot back in scathing tones. “You know that’s not what I meant.”
Most attendants stared open-mouthed at the Deloy. They’d never heard Vyztram speak this way to her. Kofroos schooled her face, but Gedram chuckled behind her hand.
Rather than explode in anger, the Deloy’s face hardened. “You’ve gone too far, Vyztram,” she said. “Here’s what you’ll do in recompense.”
An evil smile twisted the Deloy’s thin lips.
Kofroos recognized the signs, and she gripped Gedram’s hand. When Gedram regarded her matriarch, Kofroos cast her eyes toward the sleeping quarters.
“We’ll see who has sway over what,” the Deloy announced loudly. She regarded her attendants, sneering at the two who were improperly dressed, and said, “I’m retiring.” Then she marched purposefully into the sleeping quarters.
Passing through the privacy screen, the Deloy touched the icon on her slate to close the doors, but they failed to initiate. Turning around, she found Kofroos and Gedram standing in the doorway. Their presence interrupted the doors’ sensors and prevented them from closing.
“Kofroos, you’re getting old. Not only have you forgotten how to dress, but I think you’ve become hard of hearing,” the Deloy said coldly. “Get out. I’m retiring.”
“Vyztram, we’re preventing the Deloy from accessing the hidden panel in her sleeping quarters,” Kofroos sent. “I think it needs to be investigated and disabled.”
While Vyztram wasn’t aware of the panel’s powers, there were significant concerns. It was the reason that the AI had sent Kofroos access to the concealed vid monitor in the Deloy’s sleeping quarters.
“Thank you, Vyztram, we’re not sure where to begin, and we’d appreciate your suggestions,” Dafine replied, regarding his companions, Yemerth and Famgore, who nodded vigorously.
“What?” the reps exclaimed simultaneously.
Famgore tipped his head toward the privacy screen, and Dafine nodded. Then the engineer made a call to two techs, as he left the office. He wanted a panel expert and a cabling tech.
“Is this an appropriate time to call the Omnian leader?” Dafine asked Vyztram.
lia replied and dropped the link.
“Do you have visuals?” Yemerth inquired.
On a monitor, imagery played of the final encounters between the Omnian fighters and the remaining three drones. Three brilliant and blinding flashes later, the Freedom appeared with a crescent shape missing from its hull.
“How many were killed?” Yemerth gasped.
Dafine regarded the final image, and the AI’s words about the future played in his head. “Vyztram, play the attack of our drones on the Freedom across every monitor. Repeat it several times. Display text that the Deloy initiated the fight and that the Omnians attempted to retreat rather than engage. Add that, despite the damage to the Freedom, no lives were lost.”
“Use your judgment, Vyztram,” Dafine replied. “I don’t want to bore the citizens with scenes of a long-running fight, but I want to get the point across that the Deloy put this ship and its citizens in peril.”
“Leader Dafine,” Yemerth repeated, lifting an eyebrow.
“Start thinking that through, Yemerth,” Dafine said soberly. “For now, the core might have the power, but who should lead the citizenry if we make landfall?”
While Dafine and Yemerth were conversing, Famgore entered the Deloy’s quarters from the corridor. He and the two techs came to a sudden halt. The Deloy’s quarters, which none of the three had ever seen, were unlike anything in the core.
Famgore lived in tight quarters with his family. The two techs were young and had yet to replace their senior family members. At the present time, they weren’t allowed families, and they shared a cabin with two other techs. Both quarters were utilitarian in appearance.
“Here,” Gedram urged the stunned individuals, who’d arrived from the core. “This way,” she added, waving her arm.
Famgore and the techs followed Gedram through another privacy shield to enter an even more sumptuous accommodation.
One of the techs groaned at the waste he observed, and the Deloy was quick to react.
“What is your name and title?” the Deloy demanded of the tech.
“Don’t answer her,” Famgore interjected swiftly. “She doesn’t rule this ship anymore. When you see what she tried to do, you’ll know that she doesn’t care about anything but herself.”
The techs had caught glimpses of monitors as they’d hurried down corridors and taken lifts to join Famgore at the arch that contained the Deloy’s residence.
The techs visibly straightened. They were less cowed by the presence of the Deloy, whose hatred showed for Famgore.
“Where?” Famgore asked.
“Here,” Kofroos said, circling an arm on the wall above the bed. “You start with this,” she added, snatching a key from the Deloy’s neck.
The fine chain holding the key snapped, and the Deloy aimed a slap at Kofroos, but she found her arm blocked by Gedram.
“Don’t try that again,” Gedram warned, “or you might find yourself working in the hydroponic gardens.”
The techs aimed vengeful smiles at the Deloy, and she stared at them with disdain.
Kofroos threw a coverlet over the bed for Famgore, as she handed him the key and pointed at the hidden area again.
Famgore dug into his toolkit and selected a scope with light that fit around his head. He examined the wall covering under magnification and located the cleverly hidden slot in a figure’s shoulder strap.
Inserting the key recessed a small portion of the wall covering, which was replaced with an electronic panel.
“Nothing on the panel will work without the codes,” the Deloy said disdainfully.
“Good to know. Thank you,” the Famgore replied. That’s exactly what he needed to hear. He pointed at the techs and said, “Cut it out.”
The Deloy and the attendants stepped back, and the techs went to work.
A shallow cut was made in the wall, twenty centimeters away from the panel’s edges. Pieces of the wall were removed to free the panel and its operating mechanism.
Carefully, a tech, with a small flex scope located the power supply to the panel. The other tech, looking over the shoulder of the first one, confirmed the cable that was about to be cut. With a snip, it was separated from the panel.
A few moments later, the panel was free of the mechanism that presented and retracted it. With the panel in hand, the three core individuals left the Deloy’s sleeping quarters, uncaring about the mess they left behind.
Kofroos and Gedram exited immediately afterward. They knew what was coming, and they signaled the doors of the sleeping quarters closed behind them. The attendants could hear the screams and the crashing of the room’s fragile sculptures. None them expressed regret. Every attendant had voted to join the core.
In the corridor, Famgore handed the panel to his tech expert. “I want that powered on a discrete circuit. Request the codes from Vyztram. If the AI doesn’t have them, crack it. We’ll want to know what this panel accessed and what it could do.”
When Famgore returned to the central core’s operation center, he updated Dafine and Yemerth on what they’d found and removed. “I’m having the panel investigated to understand the apps embedded in it,” he said. “Did you speak with Alex?”
“No,” Dafine replied. “Vyztram left a message.”
“We watched the images on a corridor monitor in the arches with elite and service members,” Famgore said. “The reactions were illuminating. In general, citizens didn’t like being kept in the dark. I noticed several service members no longer ducked their heads and delivered courtesies to the elites. It sent some elites scurrying to their quarters.”
When Dafine and Yemerth failed to see the humor in what Famgore said, he asked, “What’s happened?”
“I was prepared to make an apology to Alex Racine,” Dafine said, “but Yemerth believes that’s inadequate.”
“Of course it is,” Famgore replied.
“See!” Yemerth exclaimed, pointing a finger at Famgore for emphasis. “I’ve been saying that we should offer assistance.”
“We’ve the processing capability to make whatever bulkhead materials they need,” Famgore noted. “It’s only a matter of having the raw materials and programming the output from a sample.”
“Make the offer,” Yemerth urged.
“Vyztram, I wish to talk to Alex Racine,” Dafine said, addressing his slate.
Famgore glanced at Dafine, who winced at the AI’s use of a title.
The AI’s phrasing alerted Cordelia, and she connected with Alex.
“Alex, we’ve seen the images of your ship’s damage,” Dafine said, when Vyztram cued him. “You have our sincere regrets for the Deloy’s despicable actions. The core now leads the Arcus.”
Dafine heard silence. So he quickly continued. “Yemerth and Famgore wish me to point out that the core’s greater population bestows on me the leadership role for the Arcus, which means anything I offer you can be treated as bonding.”
Alex couldn’t help but chuckle.
“In the future, that’s a subject for Elvians to
decide,” Dafine replied.
“Yes, Alex, we want to assist with the repair of your ship,” Dafine offered. “We can be most effective at generating girders and bulkheads for you. Our foundries have significant capacity. The SADEs can provide designs, samples, and test output.”
“No, Alex, it’s a way of making restitution,” Dafine said. “The Deloy might have ordered the launch, but those were Elvian drones that damaged your ship.”
“Yes, Alex, we wish to investigate the Ollassa offer to form an alliance,” Dafine said in a rush, and he was quickly patted on the shoulders by Yemerth and Famgore.
“We understand, Alex,” Dafine replied.
“We’re truly pleased that no one was killed,” Yemerth interjected.
After the call ended, Dafine grumbled, “I wish individuals would stop calling me that.”
In reply, Yemerth and Famgore bowed and made elegant courtesies to Dafine.
“Stop that,” Dafine ordered, but his breathless amusement was evident.
Alex mused on what he’d learned from Dafine. He stood in the grand park, surveying some of the minor damage caused by the impact of the enormous energy wave. Admirals and SADEs surrounded him. He’d attempted to don an environment suit and investigate the destroyed area of the ship. His action was met with resistance in the form of Miranda, and everyone else was grateful that she was taking the brunt of his ire.
