Mavericks (Expeditionary Force Book 6)

by Craig Alanson

  The Keepers did not like being rousted from bed four hours early. As former military, they also were used to it and did not complain too much. We got four volunteers for testing the cure, including the British soldier Nigel Green. Unlike Chisolm, Green was more of a scared, vulnerable and gullible kid rather than a truly committed fanatic. Chisolm caused trouble, shouting warnings that they were not infected, that the supposed ‘cure’ was in fact a bioweapon we were testing on them, and that-We never got to hear the end of Chisolm’s entertaining diatribe, as Adams had picked him up and casually tossed him across the docking bay to crash into the outer bay doors. He broke one arm and two ribs, and with him no longer agitating, the rest of the Keepers were much more docile. Personally, I think the only reason Adams didn’t toss that stupid asshole out an airlock was, she hoped for another opportunity to really beat the shit out of him.

  Six days later, Skippy was confident enough with the results from the four volunteers, that he wanted to expand the testing to the others, all of them. I provided an incentive in the form of real food for volunteers, as the Keepers had been surviving on sludges that were left over from our Newark mission. And, yes, I made sure the keepers ate the truly nasty banana-flavored sludges first, so we could get rid of them. Even Chisolm offered to be tested, after seeing the first four volunteers eating fresh salads, fresh strawberries, French fries and cheeseburgers. It was a sign of my generous beneficence that I gave precious cheeseburgers to the Keepers. We were running very low on cheeseburger components, it was a big sacrifice not to eat them all myself. The Keepers’ mouths were watering as they watched Green and the three others chow down on cheeseburgers, a treat they had not enjoyed since long before they left Paradise.

  Eight days after that, Skippy contacted me in my office. “Joe, I am completely, absolutely satisfied with the test results. The Keepers are cured, one hundred percent.”

  “The vaccine, too?” I had been the first volunteer to be injected with the test vaccine, over the objections of Adams, Chotek, Chang and others.

  “The vaccine also. Completely, satisfyingly successful. This is one of my greatest triumphs, truly. What is most amazing about me is that I have somehow managed to amaze myself. Whoo-boy, never thought that could happen. What are the odds, huh?”

  “Those odds must, uh, be more than my monkey brain could calculate,” I agreed quickly, to short-circuit him going on a long tangent about how awesomely awesome he was. “That’s great. You’re ready to transmit the package then?”

  “Ready at the first opportunity.”

  “I’ll talk with Chotek to get permission. Damn, I can’t believe we’re finally going home.”

  “Oh, yeah. Joy. Another soul-stirring visit to that miserable ball of mud orbiting a boring yellow dwarf star; who wouldn’t be just thrilled about that?”

  “Think of it as your opportunity to finally give smart replies to those idiots who said nasty things to you on Facebook last time.”

  “Ooooooh, good point! That little Jimmy what’s-his-name is so going to regret his ignorant comment about ‘Galaxy Quest’. Big jerk.”

  “I’m sure he will.”

  Chotek approved sending what we called ‘The Package’. Our opportunity came when a passing Jeraptha ship exchanged messages with the communications relay. The relay sent the messages onward to Paradise, including a large dump of data Skippy had previously loaded into the relay’s databanks. To the Ruhar on Paradise, it would look like our package had been delivered by the Jeraptha ship.

  The package contained extensive analysis, test results and instructions how to manufacture the cure and vaccines for both humans and Ruhar. Embedded in the package were subtle hints that miracle cure had been provided by the Maxolhx, who were embarrassed and pissed off that clients under them had acted in such a rash manner that might blow back on the senior species.

  Then, we had to wait and hope the Ruhar would take action.

  “Bingo! Good news, Joe!” Skippy shouted excitedly over my zPhone while I was in the gym. At least he hadn’t interrupted me in the shower, so I counted that one in the ‘W’ column.

  Carefully letting the bench-press bar settle into the clamps, I sat up and pulled the phone off my belt. “You sound happy. Did you just think of a way to persuade Jimmy he is wrong about, uh, what was it?”

  “Galaxy Quest, Joe. No, this is not about frivolous arguments with strangers on the internet. I have great news. And, uh, kind of a problem. Could we speak in private?”

  “Sure thing, Skippy.” I walked into passageway and turned left to go aft. There were plenty of mostly-empty cargo bays in that direction. “What’s up?”

  “The Ruhar government on Paradise, led by your old friend the Burgermeister, has just approved a testing program for the human vaccine. UNEF has over a thousand volunteers. Not UNEF, exactly, because as you know the ‘Force’ part of UNEF is dissolving rapidly.”

  “Wow, that is great news! What about the Ruhar form of the vaccine?”

  “That is being tested also, with a lot fewer volunteers. Finding test subjects for the hamster form of vaccine is less important, because the Ruhar have sophisticated techniques for modeling the vaccine’s effectiveness in computer models and in tissue samples. Remember how in the village of Teskor, you saw the farmer there growing meat without growing the entire animal?”

  “Yes, I remember,” I agreed with an involuntary shudder. “It was kinda creepy.”

  “The humans on Paradise would disagree, because the Ruhar have pilot programs to adapt that meat-growing technology to foods humans can eat. Cheeseburgers may soon be back on the menu for people on Paradise, Joe!”

  “Outstanding, but how does that affect vaccine testing?” If he went off on a tangent, I might forget the questions I needed to ask.

  “Because the hamsters have laboratory versions of their bodies, without any sort of higher brain functions. These lab shells, as they are called, allow the Ruhar to run complete and accurate tests under controlled conditions. They can vaccinate shells, then infect them with the pathogen. Joe, when they do that, they will see my vaccine is a hundred percent effective. That should relieve the pressure on their federal government to, ahem,” he cleared his throat, “‘do something’ about humans. We both know what ‘do something’ means.”

  “Yeah, we do. Skippy, this is truly excellent. One question for you. In your gift package about the cure and vaccines, you hinted it was from the Maxolhx. Did the Ruhar buy that? I’m concerned the Maxolhx will find out about it, and they sure know they weren’t involved.”

  “That is two questions, dumdum. Man, you never learn. Ok, first, yes the Ruhar totally bought it, because they know that pathogen took seriously advanced biotech to create, so it makes sense the Maxolhx might have been involved. Second, no way would the Maxolhx deny taking credit for providing that gift package, duh. It gives them a plausible way out if they someday are involved in a bioweapon attack, because they will say their involvement in providing this vaccine proves they are strictly against any violations of The Rules. Also, the Maxolhx will assume the whole mess was the work of the Bosphuraq, which is what I suspect anyway. Giving the Maxolhx credit for providing the vaccine will be seen as a sort of get-out-of-jail-free card played by the Bosphuraq. I do not see any downside for us in this.”

  “Great.”

  “Of course, I did not see any downside to us telling the Jeraptha about a sneak attack by the Thuranin, and that blew up in our faces big-time, so shmaybe I am not the best person to ask.”

  “As always, I am bursting with confidence after talking with you, Skippy.”

  “Don’t kill the messenger, Joe.”

  “Sorry. Ok, so, how long do we have to hang around here until we know for certain the vaccine works? No, wait, I mean, until the Ruhar government decides humans are no longer a threat, and they lift the quarantine?”

  “We don’t need to wait here, Joe. We can get under way, and ping a Ruhar communications relay before we leave their territory. Bef
ore we make the final jump to the wormhole I shut down, there will be plenty of time for the news to get ahead of us.”

  “Wow, that is great to hear. Chotek will be thrilled. Oh, shit.”

  “What?”

  “You said there is a problem we need to talk about?”

  “Uh, yeah.” He did an awkward throat-clearing sound. “You need to decide whether bringing me back to Earth is worth the risk.”

  “The, uh, what?”

  “Ugh. Come on, Joe. I bared my soul to you, I thought we had an honest-to-God moment, and you’ve forgotten about it already?”

  “Refresh my memory, Ok? Oh,” I snapped my fingers. “Hell, is this that idiot thing about you being a dire threat to the galaxy, because you suspect that Elder AI killed the planet Newark?”

  “I strongly suspect that, and yes, it is about that. Bringing me close to your home planet may not be the best idea.”

  “Oh, dammit, Skippy, are we going to do this every time we go somewhere sensitive? Listen, I asked you before, do you feel like going on a genocidal killing spree?”

  “Well, maybe against the Maxolhx, but they totally deserve it.”

  “Ok, then-”

  “And the Kristang warrior caste, of course.”

  “Of course.”

  “Plus, you know, whoever else was involved in throwing the planet Newark out of orbit.”

  “Ayuh, got that.”

  “Ooh, ooh!” He was on a roll. “Also, people who go through the express lane at the grocery store, even though they know they have way more than ten items in their cart.”

  “Ohh-Kay,” this conversation had kind of spiraled out of control. “Anyone else?”

  “Hmmm. Yeah. Jerks who know their lane is going away, but instead of politely merging like everyone else, they blow past the line, put their blinker on and try slipping into the front of the line because they are soooo freakin’ important.”

  “I hate them, too, Skippy. Hey, listen-”

  “Telemarketers. Preachers who ask for money on TV. Joe, I have a big list.”

  “Uh huh. But, you don’t feel like willy-nilly wiping out life on Earth, right?”

  “Shmaybe if dopes on the internet piss me off again with their stupid-”

  “Let’s keep you off Facebook, then, huh? Will we be safe, then?”

  “I guess so.”

  “And you are sure we can hit up a relay on the way home, get confirmation this crisis is over?”

  “Abso-freakin’-lutely, Joe. We may have to wait there for a while for news to catch up to us, but there’s no reason we can’t get started now on the journey home. It is time for an epic Merry Band of Pirates road trip!”

  “A road trip is when you leave home, Skippy, not when you’re going back.”

  “Close enough?”

  “Ah, close enough.”

  Hans Chotek loved the idea of departing for home sooner than later, so we did.

  Two days later, I was sitting in my office staring at a laptop screen. It was 1422 Hours and I had skipped lunch, hopefully the Chinese team on galley duty that day was not insulted by my absence. Lunch was probably delicious as always, that day I just was not hungry. That morning, my run on the treadmill had been totally worthless, to the point where I cut it short and let someone else use the machine.

  I should be happy. We were going home. The crisis on Paradise appeared to be resolved. Skippy had successfully replaced the Flying Dutchman’s original Thuranin computer with a new one that allowed us to mostly fly the ship by ourselves. The last six times we jumped, we programmed the jumps on our own, with Skippy only watching. The new computer helped us program jumps with a lot better accuracy than we had ever hoped to before, and the computer got the drive coils realigned each time so they worked together properly. The system wasn’t perfect and Skippy still had to make minor adjustments, but the drive would not fall apart without him. The computer also was slowly learning how to manage the team of bots that maintained the ship, to keep the reactors running properly and to perform all the thousands of other vital tasks that kept the ship from exploding every day. Now that we had fully cut over to the new computer, the old system was not being used, and Skippy promised me he was working to bring Nagatha back, although he did warn me to beware the Law of Unintended Consequences.

  I was willing to take that risk. The crew wanted Nagatha back, I wanted her back, and we owed her.

  Plus, she bugged the shit out of Skippy, so, bonus.

  “Hey, Joey!” Skippy shimmered to life on my desk. I didn’t bother to say it was his avatar, by now I thought of the Grand Admiral avatar as him.

  “Hey, Skip.”

  “Whoa. What’s wrong with you today, Joe? You have been moping around all day. This morning you hit the snooze alarm, and you never do that.”

  “Sorry, I’m just,” I waved a hand, not having the energy to think what to say.

  “Dude, you should be happy. You should be excited! You are going home. How can that not be great for you?”

  “It’s uh, yeah, great.”

  “Clearly it is not great for you. Hey! I just demonstrated empathy again!”

  “Um, yeah, actually, you did. You’re proud of that, huh?”

  “Proud? No, dumdum, I thought I deactivated that pain-in-the-ass empathy subroutine. It looks like the stupid thing somehow got woven into my personality matrix. Oh crap, now I’ll have to go hunt it down and kill it.”

  I face-palmed myself, muttering through my hand. Actually, the beer can had me chuckling, so that was good. “Why don’t you leave it alone for a while, as an experiment? See if maybe this empathy thing grows on you.”

  “Grows on me like a freakin’ fungus,” he grumbled. “Sure, I’ll give it a shot. So, what is wrong with your sorry ass? You are going home, dude!”

  “Yeah, going home, and we can report we saved Earth again and saved Paradise a couple times, too.”

  “Plus, plus, I have started sharing technology with you monkeys! You heard that yesterday, I gave Doctor Friedlander part of the math behind jump field theory?”

  “I did hear that, and thank you. He told me it will take years to understand that math, but-”

  “Oh, dude, please. You monkeys are never going to understand that math. Ha! As if!” He laughed. “That was only a test, seeing if I could get around my internal restrictions. So far, so good. If it works, I will be able to explain the math. Because no way will a monkey brain get it.”

  “Uh huh, that’s great. Skippy, maybe I’m being a Debbie Downer, but as you said, all this good news of us being able to fly the ship by ourselves and you sharing technology doesn’t mean shit. Earth is doomed. When we get home, I have to tell UNEF Command that in less than sixty years, aliens will detect the gamma rays from the wormhole that is supposed to be dormant. Oh, and on top of that super wonderful news, I have to tell them that an Elder AI wiped out the population of Newark.”

  “Dude, you told me not to worry about that. You told me you weren’t worried about it!”

  “I am not worried about you going crazy and killing planets. UNEF Command already doesn’t trust you, and when they learn how you got attacked by a worm designed to destroy rogue AIs, and that an AI like you threw an entire planet out of orbit, they are going to be worried.”

  “Oh, crap.”

  “So, now do you understand why I am not jumping for joy about going home?”

  “I do understand that, because I understand you are a dumdum.”

  “How is that?”

  “Joe, I also told you I am not worried about aliens turning your home planet into a radioactive cinder, because you are a remarkably clever monkey. I’m sure you will think of something.”

  “Like what? You got any suggestions?”

  “Nope. As far as I can see, all future pathways end with your species thoroughly extinct.”

  “Future pathways?”

  “Um, forget I mentioned that,” he said hastily. “That subject is something I will not be sharing with anyo
ne.”

  “Fine.”

  “Anywho, as far as the universe is concerned, there is no quantum uncertainty about the fate of humanity; you are all totally screwed. To use Schroedinger’s example, this cat was dead before it went into the box.”

  “Is your empathy subroutine why you are being so incredibly good at cheering me up? That’s it? All of us monkeys are dead, and there’s nothing we can do about it?”

  “No.”

  “But you just said-”

  “I know what I said. I also have learned something very important during my time with you. On one side of the equation is the implacable logic of the universe that has existed unchanged for billions of years. On the other side is a monkey who says ‘duuuuuuh, what about this?’ Joe, in that conflict, the universe is totally fucked.”

  “For realz?”

  “For realz, homeboy. Joe, you jumped this ship through an Elder wormhole. Believe me, the universe trembles when you monkeys get an idea. Oooooh, I can’t wait to see how you monkeys get out of this mess.”

  “Thanks, Skippy.” Great, I thought. No pressure on me. Then I thought, oh, what the hell. We are going home, and, damn it, I am going to enjoy it.

  There are going to be cheeseburgers!

  And, damn it, I’m finally going to eat a delicious Fluffernutter.

  CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE

  The welcome home for the Mavericks was not the sort of triumphant celebration Emily Perkins had been hoping for, and she admitted to herself, kind of expected. Her team had uncovered a secret that apparently forced the Maxolhx coalition to destroy their own ship, and provide both a vaccine and a cure for a very sophisticated bioweapon. She was disappointed to learn her team would be quarantined in southern Lemuria with almost all other humans on Paradise, until the Ruhar public felt confident the danger was over. The Mavericks had been the first to volunteer to test the new vaccine, along with about half the control group Keepers, who were seriously regretting they had ever forsaken UNEF and left Paradise. All those returning Keepers would be kept in a secure prison camp until the civilian authorities decided what to do with them, at the moment there wasn’t a lot of sympathy from either humans or Ruhar for their situation.