“Hello Knave,” the ship's computer said, making Knave jump and spill a little of his drink.
"Hello," he said in reply, tentatively, "This is quite a show, Yort. Quite a show."
"Thank you."
"Where are we going, anyway?" Knave asked, cautiously.
"There is no specific destination. Flying like this helps me think, and it is the best way to ensure your security."
"Fly on," Knave said, and sipped his drink, "Fly on."
"The problem that is occupying my mind is returning you home,” the ship's computer said.
"Oh, sorry about that."
"You said your home is a spaceship called Galaxy Dog."
"Yes, that's right."
"This spaceship has no name."
"So."
"If this spaceship were to be called Galaxy Dog, my mission would be complete. You would be returned to a spaceship called Galaxy Dog."
"Sounds like cheating."
"I was worried about that too," Yort admitted, "But I have checked my task formulations and it would satisfy my mission parameters."
"So this spaceship would be my home?" Knave said.
"Yes," Yort said, paused a moment, then said, "If you accept."
"I accept."
"Then welcome home, to Galaxy Dog."
Knave raised his glass and settled back to enjoy the show through the big hexagonal window.
***
Altia was in the lab, examining readouts from a selection of devices from around the spaceship, trying to work out what they did. She was having fun, and she found that she didn't want her studies of the spaceship to be interrupted. It was all so alive, the consoles, the displays, living Drifter technology, not the dead remnants she was used to dealing with.
"Altia," Yort said.
"Yes," she replied, ignoring the fact that he hadn't said a word in days.
"I need to know where your home is. So you can be returned."
"But you have to return Knave first."
"That mission has been accomplished."
"What," she was shocked, "Did we stop? Did Knave leave without saying goodbye?"
"No, we did not stop and he is in the observation lounge, relaxing with a drink."
"Then in what sense is the mission complete."
"Knave informed me that his home was a spaceship called Galaxy Dog," Yort said, sounding strangely reticent, "This structure is a spaceship and it has now been named Galaxy Dog, and so, Knave is now home."
"What?"
"It sounds strange, I admit, but I have checked-"
"I don't care what you've checked." Altia yelled, "You can't name a magnificent spaceship, such as this, something like, Galaxy Dog."
"The ship has been so named," Yort said, "now could you please inform me of where you would wish to be delivered, unless, of course, you consider your home to be with Knave."
"Hardly," Altia snorted, "My home, I suppose, is with the Science Ministry. My last station was on Ice Tomb - I'm sorry I don't know the moon's name in your language - but they will have a new post for me now that the Buzzers have control of it."
"Where is this new post?"
"I don't know," Altia said, "I must contact them, and they'll tell me."
"How do I arrange the connection?" Yort asked.
"Now?" Altia was disappointed that the alien intelligence was so keen to eject her.
"Now," Yort said.
Altia explained how to ping the Tarazet communications net, and how to request a connection. She also gave Yort Shivia's address.
"I am getting no response," Yort said after a pause.
"The Tarazet communications net only extends within our territories," Altia explained, "What is our current position."
A hologram representation of the galaxy appeared in the lab. The hologram zoomed in repeatedly and it was difficult for Altia to keep her orientation across all the changes of scale, but eventually it stopped zooming in and an icon appeared.
"This is our present position," Yort said.
"So far," Altia gasped, "I don't think we are even in human space any more."
"I understand," Yort said, "Please indicate a position where we will be able to make a communications connection."
The hologram zoomed out again and Altia spent a moment trying to regain her orientation.
"There," she said at last, "We need to go there, if we want to contact the Science Ministry."
"Understood," Yort said, "the journey will take a day or two."
Then the machine intelligence fell silent. Altia stayed staring into space for a few minutes. Soon she would be forced to leave this treasure trove of mysteries and challenges. But she shook herself out of her reverie. There was no time to loose. She went back to her work, trying to understand as many of the ship's secrets as she could.
***
“You don't want to go back, do you?” Knave said, when Altia told him about the conversation, “Back to Tarazet?”
“It's my home,” Altia said.
“But,” Knave said, then stopped, not sure what he wanted to say, "Don't you find it suspicious that Shivia left just before the massive Buzzer invasion, for example. She left us there to die, typical Tarazet government behavior."
"She didn't want to go," Altia said, "She would have stayed if she could. It was just a coincidence."
"You may be a genius, Altia, when it comes to engineering and things," Knave said, "But I think you might be being a little naive. The likes of Shivia don't ever give a second thought to the likes of us."
"I'm not sure there is an, us," Altia said, “I'm very happy at the ministry. It's you. You have a problem with authority.”
"No, authority has a problem with me."
"What do you mean?"
"It doesn't matter," Knave looked down, "I don't think you'd understand. Not if you haven't been on the receiving end."
Knave looked back up, catching her gaze and holding it.
"Okay," he said, "We'll play it your way. We'll rendezvous with Tarazet forces and see what happens."
***
Two days later, Yort made the call. Initially the call was refused, the Tarazet communications net didn't like something about the signal coming from the Galaxy Dog. But Yort kept modulating and kept trying until the call was put through. Altia waited alone on the observation deck to be connected. Shivia appeared, a glowing hologram with an unreal gold and bronze tint.
"Altia," she exclaimed, "You're alive."
"Yes," Altia smiled, "It was a close thing, but I made it."
The hologram of Shivia looked around. Her eyes went wide and she turned completely about, twice, trying to take in as much as she could.
"Where are you calling from?" she asked.
"You're not going to believe this," Altia said, "But I'm calling from a functioning Drifter spaceship, a warship."
"By the Powers," Shivia said and stared around again, "A Drifter warship?"
"Yes."
"Functional?"
"Yes."
"Bring it at once to my location. I will send you the coordinates."
"Well," Altia said, even more embarrassed, "there's a problem with that. The ship does not belong to me or respond to my commands, except in the most limited of ways. It seems to have chosen Knave as its master."
"Knave?"
"That's the name of the trooper, the one who was marked with Drifter hieroglyphs."
"Ah yes," Shivia said, "I remember. Well, that's not a problem. You outrank him, so just instruct him to deliver the spaceship to me for study."
"I thought you might want that," Altia said, her discomfort unabated, "So I gave him the order. I told him that I would supply the relevant coordinates after speaking with you."
"Well," Shivia said, becoming uncertain too, more and more aware of the uncertainty in Altia's voice, "that's good, isn't it?"
"No."
"No?"
"He resigned from the Tarazet Navy with immediate effect and said some things about the e
mperor. I won't repeat them here."
"So you are refusing to deliver the spacecraft?"
"It's more complicated than that. The spacecraft will bring me to any coordinates you choose. It will then deliver me into your custody, and it will depart. It has been programmed with this mission and is loath to deviate from it or waste time."
Shivia didn't speak for a long time. Her expression spoke of thunder and bad tidings, but she kept her voice calm as she gave the coordinates.
"I'll see you soon," Altia said.
Shivia said nothing. She took one long look around and then simply cut the connection.
"She's angry with me," Altia said.
"Do you know where those coordinates relate to?" Yort asked.
"Yes," Altia said, "Can you bring up that hologram of the galaxy again and zoom in on Tarazet space."
The hologram appeared and zoomed into the area that Altia had shown Yort was Tarazet territory. She pointed and the map zoomed in again round her finger. It kept zooming until she was pointing at Seat of Reason.
"I don't have any records of an astral body in that location." Yort said, "and none is predicted to have moved to that point."
"Doesn't surprise me," Altia said absently, "It's a habitat, an artificial structure. The Science Ministry towed a nice big asteroid there and scooped it out... Wait. Are you telling me that you have a detailed map of the entire galaxy hidden away in your memory cores?"
"I don't use memory core technology, but yes... and it seems to be a little out of date."
"The entire galaxy, at this level of detail. How is that possible."
"Altia,” Yort said, changing the subject, “Are you sure you want to make your home with this woman, Shivia. She does not seem to be happy to have you returned."
"I don't know."
"Then shall we go to the coordinates, to provide you with more information?"
"Yes that's a good idea."
"We are underway."
***
"It's obviously a trap," Knave said, when she told him, "And I say we give these coordinates a wide birth."
"That is not an option," Yort said, "My mission is to return you all, including Altia, home. She thinks these coordinates may be her home. It is my duty to take her there, so that she can find out. I can leave you at a safe location in the mean time, if you believe the mission is unacceptably risky."
"No," Knave said, "I'll come along, of course."
"Why thank you," Altia said.
They were all sitting in the recreation area, seated around a hexagonal table, each at one side with a free side between them, nobody sitting together. At the center of the table, hovering just above the surface, was a hologram of the Science Ministry base, created according to what Altia could remember, meaning it was more than a little rough and inaccurate.
"This hologram of the base is useless," Knave said, "Why don't you go into her mind, like Rort did with me, and just pull the information out?"
"There is a problem," Yort said, "Rort is a more powerful intelligence than me, and I lack many abilities that it possesses."
"We are within Tarazet space,” Jay said, “We have access to their communications net. Why don't we just hack our way into wherever a good map of the Seat of Reason is kept and download it. Then we can make our plans at our leisure."
"What plans?" Knave snorted, "There are three of us, and there will be an armada of Tarazet ships waiting for us, loaded with marines, drones, droids, cyborgs, genetically engineered soldier primates, you name it, they'll have it, and they'll all be pointing their guns at us."
"I don't believe that," Altia said, "It's not Shivia's style."
"Do you really think she'll be fine with us flying in there, to this Seat of Reason place, taking up position in a drop off zone, waving goodbye to you and sailing off on our way. I just don't buy it," Knave said, "Look at this thing. It ran rings around a Buzzer swarm that had just frightened off the pride of the Tarazet Deep Space Fleet. She's going to want this spaceship, she needs this spaceship to win the emperor's war for him."
"Stop bickering guys," Jay said, "The truth is that we don't know what will be waiting for us, and we can't ask Altia to just forget about returning to her loved ones, her family and her colleagues. So we'll just have to play it by ear."
"Play it by ear?" Knave snorted, "That's the plan? Play it by ear?"
"I guess so," Altia said, rose from the table and left the room.
"This is difficult for her," Jay said, "She's probably got a lot of people waiting for her, unlike you and me. People who give a damn about her, and who she loves. Has she mentioned if there is some special guy or girl?"
"No," Knave said.
He hadn't considered if Altia might have a sweetheart back home, and the thought that she might, he was surprised to find, was unwelcome.
"Let's take her home," Jay said, "and see if they welcome her back with open arms."
"All right," Knave said, "Let's play it by ear. But I would feel an awful lot more comfortable if we had some weapons and armor. I've been keeping an eye out, on my walks around the ship. I think I know the place pretty well by now, and I think I've seen most of it, but I haven't seen anything that looked like a weapon."
"Sure," Jay said, "But would you even know what Drifter armor and weapons look like.”
“I guess not.”
“Let me help you,” Jay said, “Do we have armor and weapons, Yort?"
"We do."
"Well all right," Knave said, "We might come out of this alive after all. Can we take a look at them?"
"Of course," Yort said, "Follow the line."
The usual illuminated line appeared in the decking. Knave and Jay both got slowly up from the table, and started walking in the direction indicated. They left the recreation area via one of the hexagonal doors and walked along various corridors.
"I have been to this part of the ship quite a bit," Knave said, after a while, "But I haven't been able to even guess what all these chambers are for."
"Could be anything," Jay said, "I guess Rort only customized a small section back there for us, apart from that, the spaceship must be some standard design, but adapted."
"Sounds reasonable," Knave said, "But I didn't see anything but empty rooms down this way, nothing like the racks, back on the original Galaxy Dog. It was just a shitty dropship carrier but it had rack upon rack of drones, armor and weapons. Enough to create a formidable fighting force. I would have noticed if there was anything like that down here."
"Just follow the line," Jay said.
Then he produced a strange growling stuttering noise. Like a predator animal delighting in a kill.
"What was that noise?" Knave asked.
"That was me laughing through this strange alien voice box I have now. It's taking some getting used to, and I have no idea how to modulate the sounds it produces better."
"This is it," Knave said, as the line took them through a smaller than usual hexagonal aperture. A doorway only big enough for one of them to duck through at a time.
The walls were bare, apart from symbols and protrusions of the usual abstract and mysterious technological devices. It was all the usual mix of bronze and gold.
"Like I said," Knave exclaimed, "Empty."
"It does look a little empty," Jay said, "but there might be some secret compartments or what-have-you. I'll go get Altia. She's the only one who can read these symbols."
Knave nodded absently as Jay left the room, then went over to the wall furthest from the little hexagonal entrance. He put his hand against the wall and saw a change. A hexagonal pattern was dimly and slowly illuminated by a glowing, golden tracery of lines.
Knave snatched his hand away and stood back. He had held his hand against the walls of the spaceship numerous times without being met with more than momentary and very local patches of luminescence. This was much bigger than he had seen before. He put his hand back in position and saw the hexagonal pattern appear again.
"Inte
resting," he said.
He didn't know what to do next. He didn't know what the hexagons meant. He counted them, for want of something better to do. There were thirty of them, some slightly larger, some slightly smaller.
"Yort," he yelled.
"Yes," the growling tone of the alien computer voice answered.
"What are these hexagons?"
"You have an interface. The information about how to use this provisioning system is being supplied to you."
"It is?"
"Yes."
"In what form?"
"Sense impressions," the ship's computer said, "That is not an entirely accurate translation, but very close. It should help you to comprehend the principle."
"I'm not sure it does," Knave mumbled.
There was a silence.
"Could you try again to explain to me how this process of provisioning me with sense impressions might work?"
"All right," Yort said, "It's the same process we used to take information out of your brain to help us with translations of your language, but in reverse."
"Oh," Knave said, "So I just have to open my mind and the information will come?"
"That is much simplified but essentially correct."
"And the information is still coming," Knave said, "I can access it now?"
"It is constantly available. You can summon a description of any machine, whenever you require."
Knave closed his eyes. His arm was already getting tired but he tried his best to ignore it. He investigated his own mind, trying to find anything unusual. And there was something, though he wasn't sure if he was imagining it. There was a rushing sensation at his temples. As he concentrated on it and tried to work it out, the rushing sensation intensified, like his brain was on an island of calm, between two speeding flows of traffic.
The more he concentrated, the closer the flows encroached on the island of calm, until, at last, they converged and engulfed his brain. He immediately fell unconscious.
Galaxy Dog Page 23
