by M. D. Cooper
Logan saw Jason shift impatiently, but Tobias held off the man’s incipient protest with a gesture before the Vale’s acting captain could voice it.
“It wasn’t originally supposed to be that way,” Deb admitted. “Although it’s rare, any government or corporation requesting an FGT terraforming project—one wealthy enough to afford more than one ship, that is—can petition the FGT for a second planet in its system.”
“I take it that’s what happened here, lass?” Tobias clarified, leaning forward, and Deb nodded.
The Weapon Born turned to the ready room’s holowall and brought up the statistics of the two colony ships that had disgorged their passengers back in the late thirty-first and early thirty-second centuries.
The task force studied it a moment in silence, while their guests allowed them to assimilate the information on display.
By colonial standards, this system was a fledgling in comparison to the one from which Phantom Blade hailed, as Alpha Centauri was now in its sixth century of colonization.
It was also much younger than Tau Ceti, or even Sirius, as the other systems had been first stops for their respective FGT worldships. Epsilon Eridani was the second stop for the Voyager after it had completed its terraforming of Galene in Tau Ceti.
Interestingly enough, the Avon Vale had followed in the Voyager’s wake, making the same trip one hundred and forty years after the second planet had been handed over to its colonists.
Perspective. Logan wasn’t sure how much Little River’s comparative youth played in this situation, but information was the coin by which he plied his trade, and he stored it away as he worked to prise more intel out of their two guests.
“Obviously, neither colony ship had AIs aboard,” he prompted, priming the pump.
From her position next to Tobias, Shannon’s avatar stirred, silver hair beginning to snap a bit in agitation. “From that last transmission on the bridge,” she said, an edge in her voice, “I get the impression that the people of Barat don’t like our kind very much.”
“They don’t,” Simone confirmed.
“Why’s that, lass?” Tobias’s voice was mild, but Logan could tell by his expression that the way the Weapon Born had been treated by the Barat Guard rankled.
“Ah, well now, that is where we come to the purpose of this little history lesson,” Deb said, swiveling her chair once more to the holodisplay at the end of the conference table.
The holo shifted, and two colony ships hovered in its depths. Icons appeared, identifying them by name, date, and planetary destination. Deb highlighted the first one.
“The Manifest Destiny was commissioned by a publicly-traded company in the mid-twenty-five hundreds, name of EpiGen.”
“You’d win that bet,” Simone agreed. “Although, at the time the ship was commissioned, the AI singularity hadn’t yet occurred. But it was projected to happen soon, and EpiGen was one of its main detractors. Their position on humanity is the source of much of the tension within the system, too. In fact, had they not leveraged their company so heavily back in Sol, we might be dealing with a completely different dynamic.”
“How so?” Terrance asked.
“Because both planets would have been settled by EpiGen. Instead, by reinvesting all of its shareholders’ profits into the building of two colony ships at once, as a proof of concept for its next generation of products,” Simone leaned forward, gaze sweeping the room, “EpiGen overextended itself, and folded.”
“It wouldn’t have been a problem if the expedition had launched all at once,” Deb explained, “but you see, they’d only just laid the keel for the second ship when they discovered the shipment of raw materials intended for its framework was inferior product.”
She glanced over at Simone. “There was speculation at the time that the materials had been sabotaged by a competitor, but nothing came of the investigation.”
The Godel AI shrugged, opening her hands, palms up, in a “who knows?” gesture. “Regardless, because of the trouble they ran into with the second ship, EpiGen decided to go ahead and send the settlers to the first planet and begin populating Barat.”
“And then the company folded…?” Jason prompted, glancing from Simone to Deb to Terrance.
Terrance returned his gaze, his own speculative as he raised his coffee mug to his lips, then shifted to look over at Simone thoughtfully. “And there was a bidding war over the second ship,” he guessed, then gestured with his mug before taking a sip. “Which meant that those slated to be colonists had to reapply all over again.”
Deb laughed. “Oh, you’d be right about that! And since the FGT had already begun terraforming two worlds in this system, the Generation Ship Service knew they had to fast-track their next round of colonists.”
“But it wasn’t like they were desperate for people to fill the contract, though, was it?” Khela interposed. “Colony ships have always had their pick of candidates to choose from.”
There were murmurs of assent all around the table.
“Because,” Simone’s tone was wry, “you may have noticed that the EpiGen colonists evolved a much more rigid social structure than the one we practice on Godel.”
Jason made a derisive noise no one would mistake for a laugh. “I kind of did, yes.”
Deb took up the narrative. “Because of that, freedoms on Barat aren’t as…easily obtained…as they are in the parts of Little River controlled by Godel.”
She paused to take a sip of coffee, swallowed, then canted her head thoughtfully. “You know, even though Barat was colonized almost fifty years earlier than Godel, we’ve more than caught up to Barat’s technology; we’ve significantly surpassed it. Many believe their oppressive society is one of the reasons why.”
At Jason’s skeptical look, Deb smiled slightly.
“How familiar are you with the path of scientific advancement in such governments, as opposed to those that are more pluralistic?” she asked.
Logan saw Noa exchange a glance with his daughter. “Some of us,” the quiet man offered in a soft voice, “are a bit more familiar with it than others might be. You refer to the concept of stagnant orthodoxy?”
Logan saw Deb nod in relief. “Yes, I do.” She must have caught the perplexed look on the faces of some of her audience, for she added, “It’s the concept that scientific advances become strangled when subjected to an arbitrary, authoritarian government. That those in power see the exploratory aspects of scientific advancement as frivolous waste, and contrary to the goals of the state.”
“All governments have an impact upon science,” Noa murmured. “In all of human history, they always have.” Deb’s nod conceded his point.
“So that happened here,” Terrance speculated. “Godel supported research and innovation—including welcoming AIs with open arms—while Barat…?”
“Barat steals what it cannot create.”
“How does this matter to us where Calista’s concerned?” Shannon’s words were direct. Based on the impatient jiggle Logan could see in Jason’s leg, she’d barely beat him to the question.
“Yes,” Khela agreed, her tone thoughtful, “why would this matter to us?” Her palms were carefully placed on either side of the mug in front of her and she was staring intently into its depths.
Her words could have been provocative, but they were delivered in a reflective, musing tone. It was clear she was working through the information they’d just shared.
Logan
liked that about Terrance’s wife.
He saw Deb and Simone exchange a glance.
“If you gave them your stasis tech,” Simone cautioned, “it could alter the balance of power in this system and most likely start a war.”
Jason had been sitting in a deceptive slouch, one leg crossed over the other, fingers tapping out a soundless beat on the leg of his shipsuit. At Simone’s words, he sat up abruptly, all pretense erased.
The man who stared back at the Godel AI was laser-focused. All warrior.
“Explain that.” The words were a command.
“Our intelligence suggests that Barat has been working on a plan to decimate Godel’s economy for some time now. Your stasis tech could turn that plan into a reality.”
“Getting Calista back is what matters here,” Shannon’s avatar straightened from where she’d projected it against the wall. She stepped forward, hands fisted at her sides. “I’m not concerned about your financial problems.”
Jason held up a hand to stop the ship’s AI, all without breaking eye contact with Simone.
“How?” A single, terse word shot like a bullet from the acting captain’s lips.
Stars, and Landon thinks I’m stingy with what I say. Logan looked on admiringly as Shannon subsided and Jason’s hand lowered. Not once had the XO looked over at Shannon as he continued to hold the other AI’s gaze.
“Your tech,” Simone confessed, “might just be the edge they need to come out ahead in any conflict that might erupt between the two planets.”
Terrance held up both hands in protest. “Now, wait a minute. We didn’t come here to get embroiled in a system-wide war. We just came to establish trade relations. Nothing more.”
Simone nodded solemnly. “Understandable. But if you hand over that tech, that’s exactly what will happen. Which is why our offer to help stands, even if you can’t see your way to helping us free our analyst.”
“Retrieving Calista’s our top priority,” Terrance began, pausing at Jason’s muttered “damn straight”.
“But if we can free your agent without compromising the operation,” Terrance shot a glance around the table, and Logan saw nods of affirmation from the team, “then we’ll get your agent back for you, too.”
“Barat considers your captain a veritable gold mine,” Simone warned, her expression grim. “They will have her under close guard. And—” Here, she paused, hesitating, her gaze shifting uncomfortably to Deb and then back. “If she has any modifications of any kind, they will seek to extract everything they can from them in an attempt to reverse-engineer your tech and appropriate it for their own use.”
A stir went through the room. Logan exchanged looks with Terrance, who gave a slight nod. The profiler stood.
“Send us everything you have,” he instructed the two from Godel as he moved toward the exit. “I’ll be in the armory. We leave at oh-two-hundred tonight.”
SHELL GAME
STELLAR DATE: 03.10.3272 (Adjusted Gregorian), 0200 hours, local
LOCATION: ESS Avon Vale, Slip 512, Godel Trade Marina
REGION: Phaethon Duty Station, Little River
The teams had been assigned. Terrance would accompany Deb back down to the station and begin a very loud and obvious series of protests with an entourage from the Vale, while Landon remained on the ship as acting captain.
Jason, Tobias, and Logan would board the Vale’s Icarus-class shuttle, the Sable Wind. A small cadre of Marines would accompany them, captained by Khela. Simone would go along in an advisory capacity. Charley would shadow the shuttle in the stealth fighter, Mirage.
Jason slid into the armory and headed for the cabinet where the ammunition was stored. His chameleon suit matched those Khela and her team wore, its hood dangling loosely from the back of his neck, awaiting activation.
He grabbed a holster and shrugged into it, the unit exchanging tokens with his suit as he did so. It faded into the background between one breath and the next as he tightened the holster’s rig straps and slid a pulse pistol inside. Several EM grenades and a few small-yield shaped charges were next, tucked into the suit’s bandolier.
A lightwand slid into each of the leg holsters he’d strapped into place when he’d hastily donned the suit in his quarters. He completed the ensemble by snapping on a pair of woven Elastene wrist cuffs, each filled with various types of breach and infiltration nano, protected behind the Faraday cage of the experimental new Enfield cloth.
“No light armor, boyo?”
Tobias’s voice emanated from the armory’s speakers as Charley worked to seat the Weapon Born’s cylinder inside a stealth frame, while Landon did the same for his brother.
Jason shot the frame a grin. “I have you and our Marines to look out for me, Tobe. I’ll just hide behind you if anyone starts shooting. Besides, you guys are going to be doing the advance work; I’m just along in case things go sideways and you need someone unaugmented to get the job done.”
He caught Lena exchange a sardonic look with Ramon out of the corner of his eye as the Marines finished kitting up in light armor and their own artillery.
“Don’t worry, squishie. We’ll keep your tender hide from going splat,” Lena assured him, slapping him on the back with one of her armored hands. Anticipating the move, Jason dipped just far enough into his enhanced abilities to deflect the blow and keep it from flattening him as the Marine had intended.
Lena’s scowl telegraphed her disappointment as he grinned back at her. “Hey, I thought only armadillos and hardbody mod-jobs could call a guy a squishie,” he complained, which caused Ramon to bark out a laugh.
“He’s got you there, Lena,” the Marine smirked at his comrade-in-arms. “Don’t think our augmentations count for that. Especially if you’re not fast enough to take him down.”
Lena’s eyes narrowed at her fellow Marine, and she shot a leg out to trip him as he passed, which he easily avoided. “Oh, he’d be down, all right—if I’d wanted him to be. Not like I was trying very hard.”
“Not like I was evading very hard, either.” Jason grinned back at her as she took a threatening step toward him.
The sound of a pulse rifle cycling drew their attention. “Bet even you couldn’t outrun this…squishie,” Khela’s eyes twinkled as she joined in the conversation.
Jason knew the Marine captain wasn’t fond of the idea of him going along, especially without the same protection her fireteams would have. He didn’t particularly feel the need, but the concern in her eyes and the slight pleading look had him nodding his agreement.
She grinned impishly at him.
He rolled his eyes as he reached for his armor and began donning it.
Landon slapped his brother on the back. “Good to go,” he said.
The stealth frame powered up, and Logan tested its responsiveness. Nodding, he moved out of the armory, the Marines at his heels.
Jason stopped up next to the stealth frame that held the Weapon Born. “Ready, Tobe?” he asked, moving aside to give Charley room to kit up.
“Almost,” Tobias said, twisting around to grab spare batts for his frame’s twin E-SCAR Electron-beam Special Combat Assault Rifles before flipping each individual weapon up to check the current status of each charge. With a sound that approximated a satisfied grunt, the AI rose. “Let’s go get your lass back, shall we, boyo?”
“You don’t have to ask me twice,” he agreed, then followed him down toward the hangar.
The ship’s complement of smaller vessels were attached to rails, each one tied down to an auto-tow unit. Once the bay doors were opened, the rails would extend, and the auto-tows would tug their loads free of the ship, releasing them into the black.
Jason paused next to the first craft, a sleek, ultra-black fighter, while the rest continued on toward the Ica
rus-class shuttle, the Sable Wind. He could just make out the stasis field and shroud covering the second shuttle, the Eidolon.
Salvaged from the battlefield back in Tau Ceti as a jumbled mess of parts and twisted electronics, he and Jonesy had set out to rebuild her on the long journey to Epsilon Eridani. Along the way, Shannon and Jonesy had taken the opportunity to tinker with her a bit. Jason was itching to test some of her new capabilities, but knew she wasn’t quite ready yet.
Too bad, he mused. She’d be a real asset on a mission like this.
Turning back to the task at hand, he triggered the fighter’s canopy, then turned to face the AI who would be flying the Mirage.
“Ready?” he asked Charley, and the AI sent his assent, then powered down his frame, releasing the panel where his cylinder was secured.
Jason leant down and detached the leads that connected Charley to his frame and pressed the release that would unseat the cylinder from its cushioned slot.
He then stepped into the lift that would take him level with the pilot’s cradle and activated it, Charley in hand. When the lift came to rest, Jason leant into the cockpit and inserted the cylinder into the specially cushioned recess that had been created to allow an AI to embed inside the fighting machine.
He sent a handshake over the combat net to the Mirage, and the fighter powered up, accepting Charley’s token.
“Ship’s yours, Charley,” Jason said.
the AI responded in the timeworn hand-off pilots used.
“Fair skies and tailwinds,” Jason said, slapping the canopy closed and sending the lift back down to the hangar’s deck.
Jason spotted Simone at the hangar’s entrance and waved her over as Charley remotely operated his frame, sending it into a protected area in the back of the bay.
“Everything set on Godel’s side?” Jason queried as the two walked across the bay to join the team on the Sable Wind.
