by M. D. Cooper
Saanvi whistled. “That’s…a lot of markers.”
“This one has the same text as the facility we’re at,” Sera said, pointing at one of the planets. “Plus some extra glyphs.”
Her finger brushed the planet, and the view zoomed in again, this time showing a terrestrial world with what appeared to be dozens of orbitals encircling it. One bore the same indicators that Sera had noted, and Saanvi stretched up to touch it.
“Let’s see what this is.”
The map zoomed in again, this time leaving no ambiguity about what they were looking at. Hovering above their heads was a jump gate. A very, very large jump gate.
Jason whistled. “Well, I guess we know that they got the tech to work. Maybe it’s why they abandoned this facility. Research done, time to get the heck out of the hole.”
“Unless they like holes,” Sera said. “Though the nests above ground make me think otherwise.”
Saanvi glanced at Sera and then Jason. “Once the support ship gets here, I’d be alright with you going. It would be nice to know whether we can expect a visit from the former owners.”
Sera nodded. “I sure am tempted. I’ll get back up to the Grace and ping Tanis. If she’s alright with us leaving you here, then we can make it happen.”
Saanvi nodded, her lips twisting. “I half want to go with you, but I imagine whatever you find, I’ll see soon enough.”
“Absolutely. If it’s abandoned, you might relocate there, and if it’s occupied, we’ll be back in no time.”
Jason cocked a brow. “Oh yeah? Just those two options? No other possibilities? Like the one where we kick off a war with an alien species?”
Sera shrugged. “You know me, the eternal optimist.”
CHAPTER 35 - CHEEKY
STELLAR DATE: 01.11.8960 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: Illium
REGION: Indis System, Ansylis Alliance
Cheeky shifted in her seat, leaning to the side until she could bring her legs onto the table. Given the hard plas chair she sat in, it wasn’t terribly comfortable, but she wasn’t going to give anyone the satisfaction of knowing that.
The three women had been separated before transport and hadn’t seen one another since—a futile attempt by the police to keep them from communicating.
Sabs said.
Cheeky chuckled at the banter while flipping through the police station’s data feeds.
Cheeky snorted.
The door had opened a crack, stopped, then continued to open, revealing the woman they’d met at the Primal Pyramid.
“Welcome,” Cheeky said, smiling sweetly. “I’d offer to pull out your chair, but….” She shrugged and wiggled her arms behind her back.
“Somehow, I’ll survive,” the woman said as she pulled her chair out and sat. “We were never formally introduced. I’m Lieutenant Dharmi, and from the records we have, your name is Cheeky.”
“Captain Cheeky. Of the Matron Tulip.”
The lieutenant’s eye twitched at the statement, and Cheeky couldn’t help a laugh.
“Yeah, it’s a strange name for a freighter, but it’s grown on me.”
“Just like carrying banned weapons on your person while going out for a night of dancing? Not really the sort of thing good citizens do.”
Cheeky shrugged. “I mean, I’m not one of your citizens, so that might explain it. My crew and I have been around Orion and back more than once. We’re still alive because we treat every station, every planet, every moon like hostile territory—because they usually are.”
Dharmi leant back in her chair and crossed her arms. “That says a lot more about you than anything else.”
“And about you,” Cheeky replied. “You’ve lived a hell of a sheltered life if you think that the galaxy is a generally safe place.”
“Illium is. We work hard to keep it that way—though people like you make that harder than it has to be.”
“Like me?” Cheeky placed a hand on her chest, eyes wide. “If you didn’t have simulacra running around with only half a brain, nanoblades, and a very strong desire to kill, none of this would have happened. Where are they from, anyway?”
The lieutenant barked a laugh. “Stars, woman, you have some nerve. Do you really think I’m going to give you details about an active investigation that you’re wrapped up in?”
“Probably not, no. But your expression did confirm that you think they’re simulacra, too. From what I’ve read of your laws, the most you can do to us—provided the golems’ owners don’t come forward—is fine us for property damage.”
Dharmi’s scowl deepened. “There’s also the illegal weapons.”
“We got concealed carry licenses when we docked,” Cheeky countered. “And so far as I can tell, there’s nothing in your legal code about handheld electron blades, for or against.”
“There are regulations forbidding unregulated firearms—”
“And there are regulations about concealed blades under fifty-five centimeters. We followed those.”
Lieutenant Dharmi didn’t respond for nearly an entire minute, her eyes boring into Cheeky’s.
Cheeky gave a derisive snort.
“Well, Lieutenant?” Cheeky asked. “You finished spinning the wheel of charges, or what?”
The woman’s eyes narrowed to slits. “You think this is all just a game, don’t you?”
“Not in the least. Someone tried to kill us. I’d like to find out who that is, but I can’t do that from in here.”
>
“Do you have any idea who it might be? Being helpful would go a long way for you right now.”
“How would I know?” Cheeky asked. “We don’t have access to any information you’ve pulled from those things. All we know is that Illium is a lot more dangerous than the pamphlet said it would be—and that the Primal Pyramid needs to update their security scanners.”
The lieutenant’s lips twisted, suggesting that she agreed with the assessment, but was withholding comment. “For now, we’re fining you with disorderly conduct and disobeying an officer of the law. You can post bail if you wish, and your court date is in two days.”
A wide grin spread across Cheeky’s face. “Excellent. Bail and fine are paid, and we’ll be there for our date with the judge. I assume our ship can’t leave Illium until then?”
“And neither can your ship up on Schista Station,” Dharmi added. “Don’t think you can just take a cab up and get out of here—which you can’t do anyway, your bail restrictions won’t let you off-planet.”
“Stars.” Cheeky shook her head. “I’d never leave the Sexy behind. We’ve had that pinnace for over twenty years. It’s part of the family.”
Dharmi rose from her seat. “I’m sure it is. My officers will be here to free you in a few minutes.”
“And our lightwands?” she asked.
“Are evidence. You might get them back after the hearing.”
Dharmi turned and opened the door, pausing for a response.
Cheeky heaved a sigh at the lieutenant’s back. “Fiiiine.”
* * * * *
Twenty minutes later, the three women convened at a restaurant named the Waffle Dome a few blocks from the police station. It was nearly empty, so the servitor at the front led them to a table without delay.
“Oh, thank stars,” Fina said in a bliss-filled whisper. “They have waffles. I don’t know why, but lately, I crave carbs after dust-ups like that one.”
Cheeky ran a finger down the holomenu. “I’m going for a steak and eggs. Breakfast of champions.”
“Granted, it’s only oh-three-hundred,” Sabs said. “A while before what civilized folk would call ‘morning’. Oh…and the first dance show at the Pyramid has just finished. It was amazing.”
“It was?” Cheeky cocked an eyebrow, then barked a laugh. “You’re watching through the nano we left in there.”
“Sure am. A woman was sliding up and down a twisting stream of plasma. Not sure how they pulled that off with their tech. Must have used a grav field to contain it—razor thin, though.”
“I’ll have to watch that later,” Cheeky said. “You getting anything, by the way?”
“Nah, just a coffee.”
“Never did get mine at the precinct,” Fina muttered. “I really do think that qualifies as cruel and unusual. Least they could do.”
Cheeky released a passel of nano from her forearm and waited until the privacy barrier formed around them before switching to business. “So, what are we thinking?”
“Other than waffles?” Fina asked. “Because right now, not a lot more than that.”
The captain snorted a laugh. “Didn’t you used to be some sort of secret agent? One who always got the job done?”
“I was.” Fina nodded. “Still am. And how I get the job done is by being well-fed. Regarding our mysterious attackers, however…I suppose we’re just going to need more data—or wait for the cops to get a few leads.”
“Could take a bit,” Sabs replied. “Isotopes that the lab techs pulled suggest the simulacra were made off-world.”
Cheeky sighed. “Sounds like someone’s going to have to trawl through import logs.”
“Already on it,” Sabs replied. “Not sure I’ll find anything, though—at least not until I work out the patterns that local smugglers use to get past customs.”
Fina nodded as an automaton appeared, setting two mugs of coffee on the table, followed by a small pitcher of cream. “Yeah, one doesn’t usually declare ‘killer golems’ to the authorities.”
“Has Sabrina spotted anything on the station?” Cheeky asked, glancing at Sabs. “I’m surprised we were hit downworld but no one has made a move on the ship.”
“Nothing, not even a peep,” the AI replied. “Granted, we don’t have supplies inbound, and as soon as you were hit, Sabrina shut down all direct hookups to the station—oh, and they did lock their clamps on to keep her there.”
“I assume she’s already disabled that,” Cheeky said with a languid wink.
“If she hasn’t, she’s getting rusty,” Fina commented. “I really do think that attack had to come from the AIs we’re chasing. This system is a thousand years behind us in technology, they shouldn’t be able to hide anything, yet there’s no trace of where those simulacra came from, nor was there anything identifiable on them.”
“I think you’re right.” Cheeky lifted her mug and took a sip. “Oh yeah, that’s just what the doctor ordered.”
Fina nodded, still stirring in her cream. “So let’s unpack what we know about these AIs. They’re core AI sympathizers who are gathering other AIs in order to…do something bad.”
“You didn’t read the brief yet, did you?” Sabs asked.
“No…we were going out dancing. Hunting AIs was for tomorrow.”
“It is tomorrow,” Cheeky replied.
“Not till I sleep, it isn’t.” The blue-skinned woman winked from behind her mug as she took a sip. “Oh yeah, you’re right, that does hit the spot.”
“OK, well, as someone who has read the brief, these AIs are from all over the spinward side of the Core Worlds. A lot of them trace back to some of the diasporas at the end of the FTL Wars. We have reason to believe that a number are from the groups that splintered off from the League of Sentients.”
“Like that Non-Organic Sentients group?” Fina asked. “The ones you ran into at Cerka?”
“And a few other places,” Cheeky muttered. “Doesn’t surprise me that they’d join in with Epsilon and the other core AIs. The NOS hates organics more than anyone we’ve ever encountered.”
“So what’s the NOS’s goal?” Fina asked. “Just kill humans? That didn’t work out so well for the core AIs, and they were a hell of a lot more powerful than a few unascended rebels.”
Sabs shrugged. “It’s possible that they want to find the core AIs.”
Cheeky gave a rueful shake of her head. “That would be nice. Maybe we can help them along somehow.”
“Our goals do align there.” Fina twisted in her seat. “Speaking of goals, how long does it take to make a waffle?”
“Sorry.” Cheeky shrugged. “They probably timed it with my steak.”
“What are they doing, growing the beef? You eat it practically raw, it shouldn’t take that long.”
“I don’t think it’s ‘grown’ here,” Cheeky said. “The menu mentioned that it was grass-fed beef.”
“That makes no sense.” Sabs shook her head. “If the meat is from an animal, it’s not ‘grass-fed beef’, it’s beef from a grass-fed cow.”
The captain snorted. “Right? Makes me think that someone is stuffing hay into the feed tubes for the beef vat in a grow-farm somewhere.”
“I mean…they probably do feed it natural things like that,” Fina said. “Probably more efficient when you’re on a planet.”
“Here it comes,” Cheeky nodded to the kitchen doors and the automaton wheeling through them. “Your wait is over.”
“Thank the food gods! Good. I need carbs to think.”
“You have mods, why do you need carbs?” Sabs asked. “You never used to have this issue.”
Fina picked up her fork and knife, cutting into the huge waffle the moment it hit the table. “Oh stars, yes, is just what the medtube ordered.”
“No syrup?” Cheeky asked.
“Oh!” Fina set down her knife and poured the amber liquid into each hole of the waffle. “And regarding my mods, Sabs, sure, I can adjust my brain chemistry, but that doesn’t change the sensations m
y stomach is sending my mind. Yes, I could shunt those, but I don’t always want to. Sometimes I want to just revel in being a carnal being.”
“I support carnality,” Cheeky said as she cut into her steak. “Ooh, perfect. Look at this, they must have a human chef back there.”
“AIs can cook a perfect steak,” Sabs insisted. “I have, many times.”
“Sure,” Cheeky nodded as she sliced off a piece of meat. “But do you really think they have an SAI back there?”
“True,” Sabs glanced at the kitchen door. “At least, they had better not. I get your point, though. Cooking rare steak is not a skill most NSAI possess.”
“I wonder if keeping humans employed in certain fields is done on purpose,” Fina mused. “Like a holdover from the Phobos Accords.”
“Maybe,” Cheeky shrugged. “I suppose I endorse that. I like being employed.”
“You captain a starship,” Sabs shook her head. “You’re not cooking steak.”
“OK, then I’m glad on Misha’s behalf.”
“So, back on topic,” Fina said around a mouthful of waffle. “Do we have a lead on these AIs? We must have reason to believe they’re here.”
“Less than you’d think,” Sabs replied. “All we have are some coded communications calling for any SAIs who want to ‘forever throw off the yoke of humanity’ to meet here.”
“Messages in The Fennington Station books?” Fina arched a brow.
The AI snorted. “Stars, no. The messages are in a knock-off series called Jupiter Junction. It’s so derivative. Also, they literally do use ‘yoke’. It’s so pretentious.”
“Alright, well, they must have some sort of contact protocol,” Fina said.
“You’ve got something on your chin, there,” Sabs said, a smile quirking the corners of her mouth.
The blue woman shifted her skin color to match the syrup’s. “No idea what you’re talking about.”
Cheeky resisted the urge to roll her eyes while Sabs said, “There is a message we can put out on a few data boards. Then, apparently, if we’re deemed worthy, we’ll get more instructions for a meet.”
