by Ginger Booth
Sass was more tactful. “Wow, congratulations! You’ve been busy out here!” She shot Cope a raised eyebrow. “So I’m guessing Loki is answerable to the Colony Corps?”
“Got it in one,” Ben confirmed. “But it’s the truth. The Colony Corps had a mission, to take humanity to the stars in the Diaspora, establish us as a star-spanning civilization to prevent our extinction. Maybe I just stumbled into it. But that’s my mission. Unless you care to challenge my claim, Sass?”
His navigation was set now. He had a moment to look back and check his old mentor’s expression. She smiled softly. Not the brash outward smile, asserting friendliness, but the inward smile that said she was truly pleased.
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” she assured him. “It’s a magnificent thing, when the student exceeds the teacher.” She patted his shoulder, then relaxed back in satisfaction.
“Do I get a vote?” Lavelle quipped. “Acosta, he is a little fish in a big sky. A stupid pilot who takes insane risks.”
Ben laughed out loud. “You got that right!”
“You’ll get old like Sass and me someday, little Benjy!” Lavelle assured him. “You become cautious. Cunning. Too smart to take on a big job like that.” He shook his head in mock disapproval. “Foolish boy! As though Sass and I would want such a title.”
“Good thing I’m not offering it to you,” Ben assured him.
Then Lavelle delivered his barb. “You killed 168 on your last takeoff from Denali, and you become admiral. Life is unjust.”
Ben froze. Cope never did admit how many died because of his nervous breakdown, climbing out of that gravity well, fully laden with 1000 refugees. And who decided to do that? The maximum safe number was 800. But no, Acosta was such a hotshot pilot, he’d show them all how it was done. And boy, did he show them.
Remi reached over and stabbed a light blinking on Ben’s console, jarring him back into the here and now. His approach navigation program had completed. “You’re alright, Ben.”
“You knew?” Ben whispered, half accusing. “And you boarded my ship?”
“I knew,” Remi agreed. “Of course. And I know you.”
“Did I say something untoward?” Lavelle inquired mock-sweetly from behind them. Sass hit him.
“Thank you, Sass,” Ben breathed.
He returned his attention to docking with Merchant. And he reminded himself firmly that he – not Cope, not Remi – chose to show off his blow-hole docking innovation, complete with its awkward clamber down the scary mid-hold ladder.
He delighted in Noel Fraser’s reaction to his flagship, too, by far the prettiest, most comfortable PO-3 of them all. Though Abel and Jules’ Friendship Thrive was naturally catching up quick.
He herded his guests to the dining room, where Tikki plied them with luscious snacks. Ben and Remi took turns presenting on accomplishments to date, and their nagging concerns at this point. The captain caught Sass’s eye when he spoke the words ‘single point failure – me.’ Her lips curved downward in sympathy.
When they finished, Fraser raised his hand. Ben nodded for him to go ahead.
“Grav integrity plates. Like grapples, but a permanent fixture to secure the asteroid’s structure. Remi, we invented them after you left for – ha! – here. The first time.”
“I didn’t know.”
Fraser nodded, a proud smile blossoming. “Yes, I have new tricks for you. We can make this work.”
“Payment,” Ben raised the point. “I don’t know what Cope promised you.”
“Access,” Lavelle replied. “Loki belongs to all, or rather himself. Which is maybe the same thing? You provide fuel, expenses, equipment. And we earn a powerful friend.”
Ben nodded. “We need Loki. He’s depending on us to bring him home safe. The capabilities he brings to the rings are hard to imagine. Unlimited star drive fuel for starters.”
“Your government,” Lavelle mused. “What pitiful excuse for a government Mahina has. Do they have any conception of what you do here? Its impact?”
Thanks to Remi, Ben recently came to appreciate just how sophisticated Sagamore’s bureaucracy was. “No. Does yours?”
Lavelle shook his head, and bit into another thumbprint cookie. Tikki’s ear to the grapevine was preternatural. Ben missed Quire as a friend, but the housekeeping upgrade was stellar. Finished chewing, Lavelle said, “Like you, my friend, we are spacemen, Fraser and me. No government rules us. We are free.”
“Likewise.”
40
Ben flopped onto the bed in his cabin, and thunked his head into the wall. Judge flew the guests back to their respective ships. But of course Cope stayed with him. And the couple were finally alone. He wondered idly how long ago they would have stolen away from the meeting for a quick private kiss and caresses.
In practice, as requested, after the status presentation, he and Remi split into two working groups. Ben took Sass and Lavelle to the catwalk lounge, another upgrade Sass hadn’t mimicked on Thrive One yet.
But now it was time to pay the piper. Cope probably expected romantic reunion time. He sat on the bed to pull off his cowboy boots.
“You’re pleased with the engineering team?” Ben asked.
“Incredible,” Cope praised. “Never met Fraser before. He’s good. Damned good. Impressed as hell with what Remi and you did. The plan’s almost there. Ask me again after Remi gives us the asteroid tour tomorrow. All good with Lavelle and Sass?”
Ben nodded slowly. “How’s the president hunt coming? Or CEO.”
“We don’t want to deal with that now.” He finished hauling off his cowboy boots. He draped himself across the bed on his side, propped on an elbow.
“I do, actually,” Ben replied. “CEO. Get the company back on its feet. I was pretty annoyed earlier. When you mentioned developing a new product line. Blowhole docking. As though anyone but me has a use for that. A PO-3 has four airlocks. Doesn’t need five. Poldark would pay more for an iceberg. That’s no business opportunity.”
Cope stared at him. “Nice. Bastard. No, I haven’t spent my time designing a blowhole collar. I said that to Lavelle to rein in Remi. He’s a Spaceways employee. He invents something, it belong to us. I did take time off from the business. Spent time with Ari and Texan. I wanted to wait and do it with you. But it was preying on my mind. So I turned and faced it. Sorry.”
Ben slid down to mimic his pose, lying face to face. “Apology accepted. You like him? Texan.” He’d known Aristotle was Sock’s twin all along, and Sock brought him along to a couple family events. Texan was the unknown.
“They’re both great kids,” Cope agreed. “It’s funny, Texan is our first without me as one parent. It’s easier to like him because he doesn’t look like me. He has your smile. Is it like that for you?”
Ben rocked his head so-so. “Nico yes, Sock no, Ari yes. They’re just people, Cope, with all the baggage that brings. Even with Frazzie I never bought into parentage the way you do. They’re not reflections of me. I didn’t raise them. But I do want to know him. Offer whatever use I can be to him.”
“You’ll like him.”
Ben sighed. “And the new-president hunt? Anywhere?”
His husband glowered at him. “It’s not like you visit the corner store! Or put a help wanted ad on the nets, like you hire a plumber. Yeah, Abel helped me compile a list of every company, Mahina or MO, with over ten million in assets. Short list.”
“Oh, that’s smart. How short a list?”
“Forty, maybe fifty with the crime bosses. They don’t publish their assets. Ring Vultures is closest to our operations.”
“That’s an example of crime or legit?”
Cope snorted appreciation. “Either. But if there’s a decent human being in top management, I haven’t met her. Considered branching out to public works. Terraforming and power is a big operation, and the grain biz. But they’re all urbs.”
“No,” Ben agreed. “Not because they’re urbs. But they’re institutionalized, on a salary schedule. No entrepreneuri
al drive. Only tech and admin. What about Carver Cartwright? Remi’s recco.”
Cope shook his head vehemently. “Mahina.”
“Carver immigrated to Schuyler,” Ben insisted. “He runs space freight. I’ve even carried containers for him. I wish all freight was so easy. Clean container. Love their branding – bright turquoise with a hula dancer, Aloha Fret. A professional supercargo at the dock. She zaps a manifest to my first mate, clamp the box on, and done. I’ve never dealt with Carver, because his staff excel.”
Cope looked skeptical. “Aloha Fret. Saw an ad for them on the news. They’re hawking letter mail to Denali now. Twenty credits for a page of paper and a hard copy picture. What the hell? Who would pay that?”
Ben shrugged. “Could ask Tikki. Look, he runs a good ground game at the dock, and that’s what I care about. But the main point is – Sagamore. If you can’t find good Mahina candidates.”
“I hire Mahina settlers! Is that so wrong?”
“No, it’s great. But Cope, we want more experience than us, not less. Sagamore can offer that. Mahina can’t.”
“Slavers.”
“Just talk to the man.”
“Fine.”
“Cope, I’m scared,” Ben confided. “I haven’t been honest with you. I love you. As my husband. I admire you as an engineer. You know I do. But I’ve agreed to lead the Colony Corps now –”
“Yeah, about that! What the rego hell, Ben?”
Ben flattened a palm against Cope’s nose. “Hush, I’m talking. Remember at home, when you put an entire desk of our debts between us? I stepped around the table to sit beside you instead? ‘Can’t put the company between us!’ But the company is between us. Cope, I won’t give up my fleet. I won’t let tens of thousands die on Denali. Colony Corps are power words to Loki. But you know what? The name fits. The Diaspora scattered millions across the stars to save humanity. Instead they were failing, dying. Like your parents, my mother, all the settlers on Mahina.”
“Reunite space-born humanity, to save Mahina. That was Sass’s dream.”
“Originally. But I ran with it. She doesn’t have a fleet. Now I do. She doesn’t have space R&D. You do. I don’t want to lose you over this, or break up Spaceways. But the company must grow to meet the challenge.”
“Lose me over this,” Cope echoed in disbelief. He stilled, barely breathing.
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Ben admitted. “That this’ll come down to saving my marriage or my fleet. And I’ll pick the fleet. Because it’s bigger than us, more important. You’ll take care of the kids. While I shoot for giving us all a future.”
“You threaten to divorce me. For a back office to run your payroll?”
“Don’t be an ass! Who earned the money to meet your payroll? Me and Prosper, running freight! Now we’ve grown way beyond that. Now we need to regroup. But I don’t want to work for you! No more than you worked for Abel! Cope, we need a referee. One who likes paperwork and meetings, and good dock management, negotiating with banks and governments. Hell, on Mahina, she’d practically need to create a government.”
Cope mimed reaching a clawed hand for Ben’s neck. “Are you asking for a divorce? Now? Here? While we do this?”
“No! I’m trying to avoid it!” Ben flopped onto his back and looked at the overhead. “Not very well. I finally figured out that ‘frill’ thing.”
“Oh this’ll be good,” Cope muttered.
“I wanted to be a good wife to you. But that stuck in my craw.”
“Ben, I never asked for that!”
“I know you didn’t. But we’ve got to be equals, Cope.”
“Admiral,” Cope said sourly.
“Commodore might sound better. Or Commandant. I don’t care. So long as the fleet follows orders and I can secure our supply lines to keep going. That’s what I’m doing here.”
Cope sat abruptly. “Got a drink?”
“Sorry. Tikki found the regs. No drinking except after dinner and in the galley. He confiscated our cabin bottles. I must say, having a hard-ass housekeeper is a new experience. The place runs like clockwork.”
“Despite your bad influence.”
“Well, yeah,” Ben allowed. “Are we OK?”
“No.” Cope hauled on his cowboy boots. “I’ll find a president. I’ll bump up to CEO, and CTO, both. But you winning the argument won’t fix the marriage.”
Ben held his tongue as Cope slipped out of the cabin. That’s exactly why he’d been afraid to be honest with the man.
41
Floki watched Nico carefully as he ran the final planned acceptance test. The two of them stood in a helix processing hub in the backup asteroid, along with Remi to supervise the installation. Wilder hung back in the doorway to satisfy paranoia. But no robots moved on this rock, nor electrons bearing data unless instigated by the backup retrieval system they’d just installed.
Ben desired a backup of Loki, just not one that could reactivate accidentally. This fragment of rock was the largest of a dozen shards of its original asteroid, and big enough to archive the critical parts of Loki’s traveling data piecemeal. None of it could be accessed remotely, as no processes ran to receive and execute a data query. A human would need to suit up and visit this one huge drum-shaped chamber among many. Each archive package required a different cable configuration to access, plus a reboot of a star drive for power. That sat in another room down the tunnel. No access instructions would be left here.
And now it was Floki’s task to approve the arrangement as Loki’s spokesman.
He took a backward step on his freezing bird feet to survey the electrical cabinets they’d installed, awkward boxy things with slow black cables, alien to the digital organic forms they padlocked.
“We ran all the tests,” Nico assured him. “Floki, you were in the room when we devised the tests.” He turned to address the android, and continued the spin, having misjudged his momentum.
Remi reached an arm out to cancel his rotation and plant him on the ‘floor’ again. “Hush, Nico. Give Floki space to think.”
“I give him plenty of space!” Nico growled. “His new cabin is bigger than the captain’s!”
Floki’s cabin was a shelf, he noted in irritation, minus a long wall and door. But Nico was a bottomless source of petty digs this week. “Please be quiet, Nico.”
The android couldn’t work nearly as fast as the magnificence that was his ancestor Loki. For one thing, his processes didn’t run at superconductor speed. He was constructed of Mahina-built inferior computing cores. He should ask Loki to build him better parts.
But that wasn’t what bothered him now. “We haven’t rebooted Loki’s consciousness.”
“The captain vetoed that test,” Remi reminded him. “Too cruel. And too risky.”
Cruel because they would reboot this copy of Loki only to kill it again. Risky because by the time they could ascertain whether the reboot succeeded, Loki might find a way to keep a process running which they could neither find nor destroy. Ben insisted that Loki be relocated, not duplicated. This backup array served only to protect against catastrophic accident in transit, or meteor damage before the interdiction guns were established on the Pono side. This rock added about 1.47% to reach the holy grail of 99.99% confidence in the plan.
The suspicion that bothered Floki now was whether this was all an elaborate ruse.
“I don’t agree with skipping that step,” Floki asserted timidly. “If we don’t fire up the backup consciousness, we can’t know for a fact that it can come back. That he won’t die and be lost forever to some dumb accident.”
The engineer said, “I cannot overrule the admiral. No, more than that. I agree with him. But you can talk to him.”
“I don’t understand your doubts,” Nico argued. “Floki, I’ve rebooted your consciousness before. You know I can.”
Floki narrowed his eyes at his prior owner.
“Nico, please,” Remi entreated. “Wait with Wilder in the hall. You’re not helping. Flo
ki, talk to the admiral.”
Floki looked away, beak pressed flat. A gulp traveled down his long neck. How could he talk to the one he mistrusted, in order to restore trust? “Do you trust Ben?”
“With my life,” Remi assured him lightly. “Every day.”
Floki scrutinized that statement. “With your life. What else do you trust him with? Your money, your soul, your friendship?”
Remi barked a laugh. “Yes. If you ask me this a few weeks ago, I probably say no. But since then, all of those are tested. So yes. Trust is earned.”
Floki dropped his head. He padded to the cables that would revive a second Loki, two of his consciousnesses running in parallel. He could probably swap them before Remi and Wilder could stop him. That betrayal would likely cost him his life. And for what? “I’ll call him,” he conceded.
“Floki, Ben,” the admiral responded immediately. “How are the tests going?”
“I don’t know if I can trust you.” The statement was bold and confrontational. Floki cringed away from it, never having dared speak so to a human before. Worse, he said it to a person perfectly capable of destroying him utterly. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”
“Shh, big bird,” Ben soothed. “You’re worried. Can you tell me why?”
Floki decided to take him at his word. “You tricked me before. And Loki. You distracted Loki with the challenge of eradicating Kali. Me by telling me I could break up with Nico. And then you wiped out the ancestors, right under our noses.”
“OK,” Ben agreed. “First, do you understand that I had to? That I cannot allow a Shiva or Kali to emerge from this.”
“Yes.” Those sentients were far too powerful, too cruel to humans. “I think you could have found another way.”
“Maybe,” Ben allowed. “But the way I selected had useful side effects. First Loki. I don’t control him, and I don’t seek to control him. I am not like Shiva or Kali. But there are certain things I must insist on, in our relationship. I asserted authority. Do you see that?”
“Yes, sar.”
“Second, you. Yes, I distracted you. The timing was intentional. But it wasn’t a ruse. I used the truth. I am Nico’s dad. It is not OK with me that he kept you enslaved. Absolutely not OK. If you are to be my son-in-law, you’ll quite likely create me android grandchildren. And you will always be able to call on me or Cope if you or your children are mistreated. This is something I needed you to know.”
