The Furthest Planet

by James Ross Wilks

  “Oh, that. I’m surprised you haven’t figured it out already, Clea. It’s one of the oldest tricks in the book. When people are following you and plotting your assassination, you beat them to it.”

  Staples looked at her blankly.

  “I faked my death, changed my face. Best way to lose the interest of unfriendly parties, really. You should try it sometime. Liberating.”

  Anger and amazement warred on Staples’ face. “You died in my arms! I watched you bleed out. Believe it or not, you’re my oldest friend. You might have told me.”

  Jordan shrugged, her restrained hair floating around behind her head. “What’s that thing Franklin said about secrets?”

  “‘Three may keep a secret if two are dead’?” she asked, still mystified by the other woman’s cavalier attitude towards grieving friends.

  Jordan pointed at her and grinned. “That’s the one. Knew you’d know it.”

  “And how did you happen along on Mars just when we needed you?”

  “Well, I wasn’t just going to disappear, Clea. I’m one of those odd ducks who takes assassination attempts personally. I tracked the men who tried to kill you in Las Vegas, who would have killed me, to your friend Amit Sadana.”

  “He is not my friend,” Staples said darkly.

  Jordan was unperturbed by her tone. “Irony, Clea. All the people who met with Sadana before their attack died later of heart attacks. Suspicious, to be sure.”

  “We know about that,” Staples said.

  “I’ll look forward to that explanation. I was going to track Sadana down, but then Bao got hold of him and he disappeared. Other people, however, were still dying here and there from strange heart attacks. Can’t imagine anyone would have seen it if they hadn’t been scouring the news for it.”

  Staples could see where the explanation was headed. “And since Sedana was off the grid, it had to be someone else.”

  “Bingo.” Jordan pointed at her again and tipped her a wink. “So cross reference, investigate, check video feeds, blah blah blah, and William Grant shows up as the likely suspect. Plus, he just looks weird. Like alopecia and steroids had a baby.”

  “So you were following him,” Staples reasoned. “And found out he was following us.”

  “Funny thing about people who are following other people. They never think that someone might be following them. Must be a position of power thing; makes people sloppy and stupid.” She wrinkled her nose in disgust at her quarry’s lapse in espionage etiquette. “Pleasant to be led right back to you all, but I shouldn’t have been surprised. Something’s been going on for a while now, and you guys have been at the center of it.” She tried to place her elbows on the console and rest her chin in her palms, but the mocking gesture was awkward in the zero G. “I know you know, so dish.”

  “I will, I promise, but right now we need to get underway. I’m worried sick about my crew, and I’d really like my ship back.”

  “Yeah, about that. Nice piece of fiction you spun earlier, but how in the hell are you going to find two ships in all this space,” she gestured expansively to the stars beyond the window in front of them. “And then capture them with just the six of us?”

  “It’s a long shot, but I think Evelyn can help. I asked Jabir to send her back up here as soon as she’s able. She’s seen the coms signature of the Doris Day before. She might be able to find it again.”

  Jordan scoffed. “If they’re rabbiting, why the hell would they be squawking? They’re likely running silent as the grave, and even if you find them, there’s no guarantee that the two ships are traveling as a pair.”

  “Then we board the Doris Day and get the information out of them,” Staples said a little too loudly, annoyed with her friend’s discouraging if pragmatic evaluation of the situation.

  Jordan looked at her as though she had just outlined a plan to fly through a star.

  Staples pursed her lips. “It’s what we’ve got.”

  Jabir didn’t release Evelyn from medical for nearly twenty minutes, which as it turned out was more than enough time for Staples to summarize their recent experiences to Jordan. It helped pass the time while Staples anxiously itched to get moving. When she finished, she studied Jordan’s face.

  “You don’t seem incredibly surprised.”

  “I’m not,” Jordan said. “Turing-compliant AI was always a matter of when, not if. I figured some shadowy force was at work. I mean, there always is, but this new player- Victor you call him?”

  Staples nodded.

  “This new player, he’s been shaking things up all over the place. A senator bribed here, a congresswoman blackmailed there. That’s not too unusual, but then a we’ve had a series of mind-blowing, system-altering events back to back. The destruction of Cronos Station, which someone is going to start looking at again, by the way. The revelation of the Nightshade ships. I suspected that was you that dropped that story. The information I left you in that locker in Philly pointed to General Threndon and his new assignment in the SDI under SETI. The Search for Extraterrestrial Intelligence was never a military organization, and there was only one way that I could see they would become one: aliens. Then there was the moon moving, and now the robot revolt. What I don’t get is the connection between the aliens and your new pal’s daddy.”

  “That’s the piece that’s missing. Is Victor in league with them? Is he just taking advantage of the chaos?” Staples shook her head in frustration. “We don’t know. I think we can be sure that Victor was behind the automaton attack on Mars.”

  “And why is that, besides the fact that he’s a robot and they’re robots?”

  “Technically, he’s not a robot. He’s an intelligence. We have no idea if he’s currently inhabiting-”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Jordan interrupted her. She motioned with her hand. Get on with it.

  “Anyway, we were watching a news broadcast, and some reporter was saying that they had uncovered a connection between the Nightshade program and Teletrans.”

  “Which-” Jordan began.

  “Is the company that created Victor,” a voice finished from the back of the cockpit.

  Both Jordan and Staples turned to see Evelyn push her way into the room and then float across to the coms station. She looked far more serene, and her copper hair was wound into twin braids on either side of her head.

  “You back with us, Pippi?” Jordan asked.

  Evelyn threw her a look that was equal parts confusion and annoyance. “Yes.” Staples noticed that she didn’t try to apologize for her panic attack.

  “Evelyn, do you think you can scan for the Doris Day’s coms signature? Do you remember it?” Staples asked gently.

  Evelyn strapped herself into the chair at the coms station and began to work the controls. “I’ll try, Captain, but unless they’re transmitting in this direction, I don’t think there will be much chance.”

  There was silence for the next several minutes as Evelyn concentrated on her work and Staples reviewed the blueprints of their newly acquired ship. It was essentially built like a scaled down version of Gringolet. Though it was capable of just as much thrust as her ship, it was built for shorter runs, assumedly between Earth, Luna, and Mars. The ideal command crew was only five. Most problematically, it lacked weapons. Piracy was so rare an occurrence around the inhabited worlds that they really weren’t necessary.

  In shape, the vessel was similar to Gringolet in that it began with a pointed cockpit and ended in a broad spread of four engines. While Gringolet was conical in shape, however, the Tyger was flatter on the dorsal and ventral sides. That design feature along with the non-retractable wings for atmospheric flight made it vaguely resemble a 20th-century space shuttle. Fortunately, the cockpit could be pitched down ninety degrees, a feature that was all but standard on more recent interplanetary vessels, which allowed the crew to stand while in the cockpit and under thrust.

  “So…” Evelyn began. “I’ve got nothing from the Doris Day. If she’s out there, she’s runnin
g silent.”

  Staples swore. “I knew it was a long shot, but damn.”

  “But,” Evelyn added, her eyes bright and hopeful, “I’ve got something else. It’s a data packet, super small, almost undetectable.”

  “Then how did you detect it?” Jordan asked, seemingly out of curiosity.

  “I’d like to say that I’m just that good,” Evelyn said, and her face fell, “but there aren’t a lot of other people transmitting right now. Apart from distress beacons and emergency chatter, Mars is pretty quiet. That makes it easier.”

  “So what does it say?” Staples asked.

  “I… don’t know. It looks like English, kind of, but not really.” She flicked the information over to a surface, then held it up for the captain to see. On the surface were written the words SIÞEN þe sege and þe assaut watz sesed at Troye.

  Staples began to laugh.

  “What is it?” Evelyn asked.

  “Middle English, I think,” Jordan said, squinting at it.

  “It’s the opening line of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight,” said Staples. They looked at her blankly. “Gawain’s horse was named Gringolet. It’s from our crew, or at least our ship.”

  “You’re sure?” Jordan asked, suspicious.

  “Do you know anyone who knows Middle English? Besides me, I mean,” Staples replied.

  “Why send such a cryptic message?” Jordan asked. “Wouldn’t coordinates be better? Status of the crew, condition of the ship, destination?”

  Staples shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe they can’t get access to that information.”

  “Also,” Evelyn added, “because it’s so small, it’s less likely to be detected. It’s an infinitesimally small piece of data. Ten short words, and anyone who picked it up probably wouldn’t be able to make sense of it.”

  “Can you follow it?” Staples asked, turning to the navigation console in front of her to begin plotting a course.

  “Like a trail of breadcrumbs,” Evelyn smiled. “Well, more like bread atoms, but it’s enough.”

  “‘Master o’ th’ Tiger; but in a sieve I’ll thither sail, and like a rat without a tail, I’ll do, I’ll do, and I’ll do,’” Staples muttered.

  “Um…” Jordan said, puzzled.

  Staples looked at the confused stares from the two other women, then tried to explain. “Three witches, we’re three women. We’re on the Tyger, headed somewhere to do bad things…” When no expressions of understanding appeared, she simply said, “Never mind, let’s just go.”

  The medical bay of their commandeered ship was a small and unimpressive affair. There were only three beds, and two of them were occupied. Whoever had owned the Tyger before Staples and her crew took possession of it had either not bothered or not been able to afford gravity plating in the medical bay. As such, it matched the old designs. The room was cramped and ran perpendicular to the long axis of the ship, as most rooms on spaceships did. This design made it easier to convert when subjective down went from the belly of the ship to the aft. Two of the beds were affixed headfirst to the far wall, and one to the near wall that also contained the door. The beds rotated at their attachment points, which allowed a person to remain lying down as the ship left atmosphere. This created an odd effect, however. Under the effects of Martian gravity, Dinah and Overton had been next to one another. Now the beds were stacked like bunk beds. It made treatment by the attending physician, in this case doctor Jabir Iqbal, somewhat awkward.

  Small magnetic tables also attached to the rear wall had rotated as well, but Jabir currently had no surgical tools on them. Both of his charges were on the road to recovery. Overton’s jaw had been cracked but not broken by the glancing blow to his face. He was bruised and sore, but apart from a swollen jawline, he looked well enough. He offered Staples a grim smile when she entered.

  Dinah was conscious, but clearly not at her best. Even from the other side of the room, Staples could see the deep bluish bruises that stood out against the already dark skin of her forearms. Her eye was blackened where the man had struck her. Her artificial foot had been temporarily removed and sat on a nearby tray. She still wore her tank top and cargo pants. Staples guessed that the only way that Jabir would have gotten her in a hospital gown without a fight was if she were fully unconscious.

  “How are we doing, sir?” Dinah asked. Staples noticed that her left eye was red from broken blood vessels.

  “I think that’s my line, Dinah.” Staples crossed the room, nodding to Jabir as she did so, and stood uncomfortably at the foot of Dinah’s bed. The woman was only half a meter off the ground, and Overton’s bed was a meter above hers. Staples squatted down for a moment to get eye contact, then stepped back and leaned against the wall. The ship was currently pushing one and a half Gs of thrust, and squatting hurt her knees.

  “I’ll be fine, sir, but I don’t mind saying that I’m plenty pissed off. I’m sorry I let you down.”

  “I can’t always tell when you’re being ironic, Dinah,” Staples responded.

  Jabir chimed in. “I’m afraid that our Ms. Hazra is being most genuine. I believe she feels at fault for not being superhuman.”

  Above her, and safely out of Dinah’s range of vision, Staples noted, Overton rolled his eyes.

  Staples chuckled. “If anyone I know is superhuman, it’s you, Dinah. That man you fought, he didn’t seem to be human at all. Jordan said his name is William Grant. You know him?”

  Though Dinah had been unconscious when Jordan had shot their attacker, Jabir had evidently filled her in, because she expressed no confusion at the mention of their newest crewmember. “I knew him, sir. He used to be in SSPOD. Used to have hair, too.”

  Staples raised her eyebrows in expectation.

  Dinah sighed in frustration. “I’m not sure what to say, sir. When I knew him, he was a good soldier. He was also a sadist. One of those people who joins the military because the job lets him legally hurt and kill people.”

  “I don’t know why governments employ people like that,” Staples said disapprovingly.

  Dinah shrugged, then winced in pain. “They have their uses, sir. He wasn’t in my squad. If he were, he’d be dead, but I sparred with him a few times. He wasn’t anywhere near that strong or that fast.”

  “So something’s happened to him,” Overton said.

  “Some sort of genetic experimentation, perhaps,” Jabir postulated. “Muscle replacement, enhanced reflexes, and bone density increases are all at least quasi-legal in several Martian and Lunar cities. That does not, however, explain how he was able to overcome a half-dozen bullet wounds.”

  “Adrenaline, maybe?” Overton ventured.

  Staples shook her head. “He was improving, healing right in front of us. He could hardly stand one minute, and the next he was barely limping.”

  Several moments of silence passed while the four of them considered that.

  “So this is going to sound really stupid, but I feel like we’re all thinking it,” Overton said. “Could he be an alien? Or have been altered by one? Or, I don’t know, infected by one?”

  Staples wanted to dismiss the possibility out of hand, but she found herself genuinely weighing it.

  “I have seen the effects of surgically enhanced musculature and similar modifications on people before, but this man seemed different,” Jabir said.

  “He didn’t move quite right,” Overton added.

  “Could he have gotten these enhancements from the SSPOD?” Staples asked Dinah.

  “No, sir,” she replied. “They drummed him out before… AR-559.” She made herself say the name. “Killed a civilian in a bar brawl. Dishonorable discharge. The last I heard, he was working private security.”

  “Well, whatever modifications he’s had,” Jabir said, “it’s had a deleterious effect on his follicles. There wasn’t a hair on his body, not even eyelashes.”

  Staples threw him an odd look.

  “What?” he asked defensively. “Good observation is good science.”

/>   Ten minutes later Staples huddled in the unfamiliar captain’s chair of her purloined ship. She and Jordan watched the news transmissions that had finally reached them from Earth as Evelyn pushed them from the coms console over to their surfaces. The automaton attack wasn’t confined to Tranquility or to Mars. It was system wide.

  Few news stations were even transmitting. Their absence was in many ways more ominous than any news that they might have provided. Instead the reports that came in were a mishmash of scattered videos, pictures, and eye-witness accounts from survivors. The few sponsored stations that were still operating were mostly relegated to re-broadcasting these videos and providing limited commentary on them. No reporters were reporting from the field. The entire apparatus of the media seemed to be on the verge of collapse.

  The attacks had naturally been the worst in the areas that were the most affluent and had the highest population densities. Automatons were primarily the toys and tools of the rich, and so their owners had been the first to fall victim to the rampage. Shopping areas, especially those that contained automaton shops, had also been overrun. Horrific videos posted by desperate survivors showed the bloody violence and slaughter they had witnessed firsthand in Tranquility. The reports were also consistent with their experiences in another way; it seemed that not all of the automatons had been affected. Some remained passive, blithely going about their business even as their owners were literally torn apart.

  Most of the videos were from Earth, but a few reached them from the Moon as well. It was possible that the automatons on colonies like Titan Prime had also been affected, but they would not find that out for a little while yet. The distances were greater, and so the information was still in transit.

  Perhaps one in twenty videos concentrated not on the robotic attacks but on the effects of the Moon’s new location. Men and women stood recording ocean swells burying beachfront houses in seawater. Others featured views of tides so low that they revealed ocean floor that had not seen direct sunlight for thousands of millennia.