The Madness Engine

by Paul B Spence

  "I'm sorry, but it just sounds crazy. You're saying that Commander Tebrey is his son?"

  "That's what Drake told me. Tebrey didn't dispute it when I talked to him."

  "This is so weird."

  "Yes, it is," Geoffrey agreed. "You mind letting me go?" He was afraid someone was going to come along and see them. That would be embarrassing.

  Naomi blushed and dropped her arm. "Sorry."

  "No problem. I know it's a lot to take in, but I'm not lying. You can ask Tebrey."

  "I'm not that crazy, thanks."

  "Want me to ask him to confirm it for you?"

  "No, thank you."

  "How about dinner, then? Still buying?"

  Naomi laughed. "Yeah, come on. Let's get some food in you before you waste away."

  She led him thought the maze of corridors to the mess. The officer's mess was much nicer than the generic one on the station. The food there had been terrible.

  "Not a lot of people around," he commented.

  "We're in the middle of a shift, around fourteen hundred hours."

  "I went through most of the military training simulations, but I didn't get to the current era stuff before getting shipped off here. Somebody told me, but I forgot. What are the shifts, again?"

  "Each crewman is required to work a six-hour shift out of every twenty-four. I worked first shift today, six hundred to twelve hundred. You'll usually see people in here just before they go on shift, or just after they get off."

  "You only work six hours a day?"

  "Yes, why?"

  "Doesn't seem very efficient."

  "On the contrary, six hours is optimal for a person to remain sharp and focused. Also, the extra crew comes in handy during a battle."

  "How is that?"

  "Replacements for those who die. With four times the required personnel, we can keep fighting."

  "Is everything in the Concord about war?"

  "You're asking a soldier on a military starship. What would you expect the answer to be?" Naomi replied. "Besides, we are at war."

  "Good point." Geoffrey loaded his tray with food, and they found a table.

  Naomi waited for him to eat most of his meal before she started asking him questions.

  "What is Drake like, in person?" she said.

  "He's… odd," said Geoffrey. "I'm not sure what you've heard about him, but to be honest, whatever it was probably wasn't as strange as the true story. Drake is old – really old."

  "With rejuvenation treatments, a person can potentially live hundreds of years," Naomi said. "Not that we've had them around that long."

  "Naomi, Drake isn't human."

  "Nonsense. He'd have to be, if he is Commander Tebrey's father."

  "No, he's something else," Geoffrey insisted. "I don't even have a name for it." Not that he wanted to share, anyway. "Admiral Shadovsky called him a precursor, if that means anything to you."

  "They're a myth."

  "Drake may be the stuff of legends, but he's no myth."

  "I don't believe he isn't human."

  Geoffrey shrugged. "How do you explain what he can do, then?"

  "Really good tech?" She didn't sound too convinced.

  "Oh, he's got that," Geoffrey said. "I think that's the deal he worked out with the Concord: uou take me in and train me, and he gives you tech."

  "Your loyalties are with him."

  "I've never said otherwise."

  "I'm not sure how I feel about that."

  "I've seen Drake go to extraordinary lengths to help friends. I can't imagine he'd do less for his own son. Drake will help the Concord. He put me here to keep me safe. He obviously trusts you all."

  Naomi snorted. "I'm not sure I'd call where you are safe."

  "Trust me, I'm safer here than where I was."

  "Where was that?"

  "I'm not sure I should say." He held up a hand to cut off her complaint. "You don't even really believe what I've already told you. Explaining where I was and how I got here might strain your belief too much."

  She nodded. "You know, you can eat more than once a day."

  "What?"

  Naomi gestured at his now-empty tray. "You just ate enough for three people."

  Geoffrey blushed. "Should I not have? I was hungry." The food had been much better than he was used to. He wondered if it was because the food was better on the ship, or just in the officer's mess.

  "I'm not judging you. I just thought I'd mention that you can come here anytime and get food. I suspect you'll be busy enough in the next few days to burn it off."

  "I've been eating a lot more since I got here a few months ago. I put on a lot of muscle during training."

  "That's pretty common. Your body probably just hasn't adjusted to being out of the simulation tank. When did you finish?"

  "Two days ago. I didn't finish, though."

  "Why not?"

  "It's kind of complicated."

  "Of course it is. You are quite the mystery, Geoffrey Meeks."

  "It's an acquired skill."

  Chapter Twenty

  Deegan arrived by the shore of a lake on Aurora.

  The air carried the crisp chill of late autumn – not that normal seasons had much meaning on a planet with four suns. Still, it was nearing winter on the lone planet. He walked along the path to the village, sparing little attention to the ruins that jutted from the forest. He hadn't had anything to do with that.

  "Deegan!" Lyra called. She could have spoken to him in his mind, but it was a matter of common courtesy on the planet to speak when possible. Not everyone was a telepath, and not all thoughts were private. He suspected it was more because of the latter that she spoke aloud. The wounds from Tebrey's visit still had not completely healed.

  "What brings you out in the cold?" he asked.

  "You, of course. I heard you arrive. I wanted to talk to you before the others got to you."

  "Trouble?"

  "When is there not?" Lyra directed him along the path to the east, and they walked until they found a stone bench to sit on.

  The stone was cold, but Deegan didn't mind. At least it was natural. The sterile metal world Tebrey lived in filled him with dread whenever he visited. Such places stunted the emotions, and that wasn't good for someone like him. It put him too much in mind of the way things had been in the past.

  "How was he?" she asked. She could only mean Tebrey.

  Deegan shrugged. "I left before I saw him. Still fighting, if that's what you mean."

  "It isn't, and you know it."

  "Take from it what you will. I can only report what I've seen. The war continues there. The Concord is doing what it can to minimize casualties. Tebrey has been chasing something they called the Engine, which they suspect has something to do with the increased Theta activity in their universe."

  "Theta?" said Lyra. "You've gone native."

  "Dark Ones, then. What difference does it make what name you put on them? They have none of their own."

  "I wasn't trying to hurt you. Forgive me."

  "Of course."

  "Any news of Tebrey's father?"

  "Some. I learned enough of Drake to know that he is, indeed, descended from the First."

  "He's returned?"

  "No, his man Geoffrey told the admiral and I about it. He said there were others of Drake's kind still alive, many thousands of others."

  Lyra blew out the breath she'd been holding. "You did say descended, right? He isn't one of the First, just a descendant?"

  "What difference does it make?"

  "Maybe none, or it could be everything. Anything else?"

  "Tonya Harris and Ghost have gone missing, but I don't think they're dead."

  "You met them on...?"

  "Atlonglast, yes. I thought they had promise. They've faced the enemy before."

  "We may have to see if we can push a little to get things going the way we want them to," Lyra said. Deegan had a sour look on his face that she knew well. "You don't approve?"
/>   Deegan shrugged again. It wasn't his place to make policy. He didn't have to like or agree with anything. "I neither approve nor disapprove. I just tell you what I see."

  "Hmm."

  They sat and listened to the distant sounds of children playing in the woods.

  "Lyra, are you planning to continue Tebrey's education?"

  "I am."

  "And what if the others don't agree?"

  "They'll agree."

  "How can you be certain?"

  "Tebrey needs to know more if he is going to survive, and the others won't want Drake for an enemy. If he thinks we could have helped in the coming crisis, and didn't... I, for one, don't want a repeat of his last visit, much less have him actually trying to hurt people this time. He took it easy on us the last time, and we still almost lost a dozen Mo'Ceri and Brennen."

  "Brennen said he was unprepared, caught off guard."

  Lyra laughed. "That's bullshit. I've spoken to Hawk, and Onyx, too, for that matter. Brennen was outclassed. Drake didn't even pay much attention to him. Brennen was an annoyance to him, at worst. Even the Mo'Ceri admit that Drake seemed to hold back from actually killing. I wouldn't like to see what he'd do if angry."

  "No. I wouldn't, either," Deegan said. "So, you're sure he isn't...?"

  "He's doesn't scan right, but he isn't one of the dark ones. Nor is he someone who had turned and come back from it. He told Shadovsky that he had Ascended. I believe that. I think he is alien in a way we have seldom encountered, but I don't think he's actually evil."

  "What should I do if he turns up?"

  "Let me know at once," said Lyra. "I'll take it from there."

  Θ

  Geoffrey had enjoyed spending time with Naomi. She dropped him off at his quarters before going to her workout in the gym, and he was left with nothing but his own thoughts. It had been a long time since he'd been able to relax and just be himself. He hadn't been able to tell anyone back home about the things he'd seen when traveling with Drake. They would have locked him up in a hospital and thrown away the key – or worse, they would have believed him. He'd had no desire to be locked away by the American government, but that's exactly what would have happened if they had known the truth about him. Now it didn't matter. There wasn't any government back home. It was all gone.

  "Mr. Meeks?"

  He jumped as the disembodied voice spoke.

  "Yes?"

  "I'm sorry to disturb you. My name is Alessa. I'm the machine intelligence of the Vigilant."

  "Oh, hi. Call me Geoffrey, if you please."

  "Certainly, Geoffrey. I wanted to let you know that Commander Tebrey has requested your presence at the Archangel armory at eighteen hundred. That is in half an hour. He asked that you wear your armor and bring your weapons."

  "I'd be happy to," Geoffrey responded, anything to get away from his own thoughts. "Where is it?"

  "I've downloaded the information your suit computer."

  "Thank you."

  "My pleasure, Geoffrey."

  Geoffrey looked at his armor with a mixture of anticipation and dread. The armor was complex and sophisticated, incredibly resistant to damage, and yet he knew that the weapons he might be facing could damage it. He'd read about the injuries Tebrey had suffered. Geoffrey didn't know if he'd be able to face that kind of pain. If Geoffrey hadn’t known just how resilient Drake was, he wouldn’t have believed what he’d read about Tebrey.

  He sighed and stepped into the waiting suit. He was pretty sure Tebrey wouldn't be happy with him if he was late. He didn't think Tebrey was the forgiving type, either. He was going to have to work hard to impress the man. He was confident he could, but it wasn’t going to be easy.

  Geoffrey left his room and made a mental note to thank Alessa later. The MI had done more than just tell his suit how to get to the armory. A blue line was projected into his field of vision; all he had to do was follow it. Crewmembers gave him wide berth as he walked, which oddly pleased him.

  It wasn’t that he harbored any animosity toward citizens of the Concord, but he’d always been kind of average when it came to people’s reactions to him. He was tall, but not tall enough to be all that intimidating. He’d skimmed through school without being preyed upon much by bullies; they tended toward easier prey. That was not to say he’d never been in fights. Small confrontations were inevitable, given the hormonally induced insanity that most teens suffered.

  Truth be told, he was too easy-going to be very threatening.

  He arrived at the armory a few minutes early. It was much like the one back on the station. It was smaller, of course, but still had an impressive array of weapons. Many of these weapons looked as if they'd been designed for hands other than humans'. He couldn't read the script that came up when he focused on them, though, so he couldn't be sure. A suit of battered armor lay out on a workbench in the back.

  Geoffrey felt queasy when he saw the torn right arm of the suit. He knew it must have been the armor Tebrey was wearing when he’d lost his arm. What was left of the right arm on the suit looked hacked and sawn. The rest of suit was battered and scraped. Suddenly his own armor seemed too tight. He took off his helmet and took deep breaths to try to calm down.

  "Makes it all very real, doesn’t it?"

  He jumped at the voice from behind him. Geoffrey hadn’t even heard Tebrey come in.

  "What happened?"

  Tebrey shrugged. "My arm got struck in a closed airlock with a monster on the side. I didn’t have a lot of choice. I wanted you to see it, because I want you to think about why you’re here. This isn’t a simulation. It isn’t a game. You can get dead real fast. Have you ever been hurt? Badly, I mean."

  "Once," Geoffrey replied quietly.

  "Tell me about it."

  "I was shot through the chest while fighting alongside Drake against some of his kin. I thought I was going to die. I was dying."

  "How did that make you feel?"

  Geoffrey turned and met Tebrey’s eyes. He hadn’t noticed before, but Tebrey had the same eyes as his father, a vivid emerald green that almost pulsed with intensity. "I was content enough," he replied.

  "Hmm," Tebrey said. "You’re saying you were happy to die if needed?"

  "Well, maybe not happy," said Geoffrey. "But it was a fight for a noble cause."

  "I don’t want you to be content to die," said Tebrey. "Don't ever be content to die. Don’t spend your life for no reason."

  "I don’t plan on it. I was terrified, lying there bleeding out. The pain was overwhelming, and all I could think of was that I was a stupid kid who had gotten himself into more than he could handle. Believe me when I say I don’t want to get hurt again. I just want you to know that it won’t stop me from doing whatever you need me to do. I don’t know if I’d have the nerve to do something like that –" he gestured at the armor "– but I know I’ll do my best. Trust me."

  "That’s my problem," Tebrey replied. "I don’t trust you."

  "Then trust your father. He trusted me."

  "I don’t trust him, either."

  "I don’t understand," Geoffrey said. "Is it something to do with that Butcher business?"

  Surprisingly, Tebrey laughed. "I see the rumor mill is already at work. No, I don’t give a shit about anything he did as a mercenary. I’ve done things as bad or worse. No, my mother died when I young, and my father wasn’t around. I was raised in a Federation orphanage. I didn’t even know my father was still alive until a few months ago. He claims he didn’t know I was still alive, either, but I’m not so sure."

  "I’m not going to try to make excuses for him," said Geoffrey. "He’s a complex guy. I’ve been friends with him for years, and I didn’t even know he had children, but I think he would have looked after you if he had known."

  "Children?"

  "When he told me about you, he told me he had lived a long time and had lots of kids."

  "Here?"

  "I don’t know. Sorry."

  "It doesn’t matter. I’m just curious
. I don’t want you to take it too personally, but I don’t extent my trust to many people, and then only after I’ve known them for a while."

  "I understand. Naomi said you’d lost most of your team recently."

  Tebrey nodded. "A Theta infiltrated my team."

  "They can do that?"

  "They’re shapeshifters. At least, some of them are. This one was able to mask its true nature, too. Fortunately, most of them can’t do that. It killed one of my men and wore his armor back onto the shuttle. It attacked us, and the shuttle was destroyed. Only Sergeant Pt’kar and I survived. Presumably, the Theta also survived."

  "Presumably?"

  "I think it apported from the shuttle back to the Federation habitat we’d left. The alternative is that it's still aboard this ship, masquerading as a crewmember and biding its time until it's ready to strike again."

  "You really think it's still here?"

  Tebrey shrugged. "Honestly? No, but I couldn’t tell when it was on my shuttle, either. You just need to understand what we're up against."

  "Obviously I can never really truly understand until I’ve been through it," Geoffrey replied. "But I’m familiar with the uncertainty. Drake’s people are almost all shapeshifters. We had little questions we could ask each other, questions that the enemy wouldn’t know the right answer to."

  "Not bad. We can do that, but we also have encoded implants. Our datalink codes are unique. That was how I discovered the Theta on the shuttle. One of the crewmen didn’t have a datalink. He should have."

  "Sorry, I tend to think from a lower tech perspective."

  "Nothing to be ashamed of there. I recently spent a year stranded on a fallen colony world. It put things in perspective to not have access to my tech."

  "I didn’t realize there were fallen colonies."

  "How far did you make it in your training?"

  "I was working through the Martian Revolt."

  "Okay, so you understand the Exodus."

  "Not really."

  "The first machine intelligences emerged in the middle of the twenty-first century back on Earth. The Earth was in ecological collapse from over-pollution and depletion of natural resources. The MI were tasked with saving humanity, no matter the cost. They responded by taking control of the military and industry of the planet. Thousands of ships were built and cast into the void. Little or no effort was made to ensure that the ships arrived at systems capable of sustaining human life."