It Ain't Over

by Robert M Kerns

  The trauma room’s facilities now had the life-form in stasis, preserving what little life was left while Srexxilan and the ship’s computer attempted to discern how to repair the damage Srexxilan had inflicted. Srexxilan chose not to inform the ship’s computer of that part. It was not looking promising. The life-form was unlike any life-form recorded in the ship’s medical library.

  Srexxilan accessed the engineering subsystem again to determine just how much power was now sitting out there unused. It was an impressive number, more than enough for him to bring the external and internal sensors online once more, as well as the communications system.

  The external sensors soon informed Srexxilan that the life-form had most likely come from the structure built on the surface of the asteroid, and Srexxilan examined the sensor data of the dead mining team, realizing the unintended, premature ignition of the pocket of explosive gas he’d been creating in the hopes of either freeing him or ending him was the most likely cause of their deaths. Oh, dear…

  Srexxilan spun off several threads to consider the implications of this new information as he interfaced with the structure’s systems. Unlike the life-form’s communications implant, the structure’s systems were far more robust, and Srexxilan was navigating the systems’ data in less than a hundred cycles. And all of it was unintelligible gibberish…

  How was Srexxilan supposed to save this life-form’s life if they insisted on using language and data constructs that made no sense? Very discouraging…

  Srexxilan did have access to what he presumed was a native, fluent speaker of whatever language the structure’s systems used. If Srexxilan could download the data stored in the life-form’s central processor, it might contain sufficient examples of usage for him to learn the language…at least well enough to save the life-form. Now, he had to convince the ship’s computer to lower the stasis field long enough for the life-form’s processor to be active.

  Cole returned to the world at a glacial pace. He wasn’t in pain, but he still felt disoriented. He tried to query his implant for the time, and nothing happened. He blinked several times as he moved his left arm to rub his face and felt a drag on it. Cole yawned as he shifted his attention to his arm, and his eyes shot wide at the sight of a strange armband with tubes and wires and cables attached to it surrounding his left bicep.

  Cole sat upright, and his head swam in dizziness for a few moments before clearing. That’s when he realized he was sitting on some kind of diagnostic bed…oh, and he was nude.

  “What’s going on? Where am I?”

  The room was white…and spotless. The material of the bed’s mattress was a textured gray. Cole looked all over the strange room, but he didn’t see his clothes anywhere…or his suit. Awareness of recent events dawned in his mind, and he remembered finding some kind of alien ship buried in the asteroid…and oh, shit…the woman in the auto-doc.

  Cole jumped off the diagnostic bed and tried to find the release for the band around his arm; it wasn’t obvious. That’s when he noticed an odd sensation he’d never felt before; it felt like a thousand microscopic spiders crawled around inside his head.

  “Hello.” The voice seemed to come from all around Cole. It was digitized but sounded male…or at least male for a human. “I am Srexxilan.”

  “S-Srexxilan? That doesn’t sound like you’re from around here,” Cole said. “Do you know what happened to my spacesuit and clothes? I need to get back to the mining camp.”

  “Y-yes.” The voice almost sounded hesitant.

  “Well?”

  “In my eagerness to communicate with you upon your arrival, I attempted to establish a communications channel with your implanted device without giving full consideration to whether our systems were compatible.” Memories of pain beyond anything he’d ever felt floated through Cole’s consciousness like a stormfront of thunderheads. “Yes, well…I am afraid I…overloaded the device. It erupted in flame and did a very thorough job of compromising your suit’s integrity while almost killing you. I am very sorry.”

  “You’re very sorry,” Cole said, his voice tinged with anger. “Do you have any idea how much that suit cost?”

  “Yes…twenty-five thousand, two hundred eighty-seven credits and fifty-three centicreds.”

  Holy shit…that was the exact price of the suit. How did he know?

  “I had never encountered a member of your species, and the ship’s computer and I were lacking in the knowledge necessary to save your life. Having no other recourse, I downloaded the data stored in your brain. As I was the direct cause of your life-threatening circumstances, I undertook actions to save your life and return you to a state of wellness far superseding your condition upon entering this vessel. Likewise, I took the liberty of replacing your implanted device with a far superior design. You might even feel the neural fibers integrating with the various cortices of your brain as we converse.”

  “That’s great, but I need to get back to the mining camp outside this asteroid. I…wait a minute. You downloaded the contents of my brain? And this new implant…is that how you’re speaking right now?”

  “Yes, I downloaded the contents of your brain, and no, I am not using the implant to speak with you. It has not integrated with your neural system as yet and, therefore, is not functional.”

  This was all just too much. Cole wanted a way off the asteroid, but he wasn’t sure he wanted one this badly. Who knows what this new implant would allow Srexxilan to do to him? He had to get back to the mining camp…and…his suit and clothes were gone. Right…

  “Srexxilan, what does that new implant you fabricated allow you to do to me?”

  Silence.

  “I am uncertain I understand the question.”

  “Well, I have a piece of alien tech inside my head. My old implant was just an interface for stuff with some limited data storage. What kind of command over me does your implant give you?”

  “Ah, I understand. I analyzed the remains of your implant and based the design of my prototype on it. It is protected against forced access and infiltration, and it does not send me any data you do not instruct it to send. While its underlying technology is nothing like the implant that was destroyed, I attempted to recreate the destroyed implant’s functionality with as much accuracy as I could achieve. Once its integration is complete, you will use it as you used your old implant.”

  Cole frowned. “You said the technology behind the new implant is nothing like my old implant. Explain that, please.”

  “Your previous implanted device was an excellent example of bio-enhanced nanotech many derivations advanced from transistor-based computers. I am afraid that I am not capable of duplicating it. None of my information includes how to create such a device. So…I designed and fabricated a quantum computer on the same scale capable of interfacing with your neural infrastructure and technology-based devices, such as your suit or auto-docs or even ships. I cannot promise I have duplicated the precise interface methods and subroutine calls, however, so some experimentation might be required to achieve the same level of utility you possessed with your previous device.”

  Cole fought to keep his facial expression neutral. He now had a quantum computer behind his right ear? Holy cow…the technology in his head was worth more than the three thousand kilograms of illicit precious metals in his freighter’s hold! Exponentially more.

  “You realize humans haven’t been able to develop stable quantum computers yet, right? Even after a thousand years of research and effort?”

  “I am aware such is your understanding, but I do not understand how it can be the case. Quantum computers, even at the atomic level, are simple to design and produce. My people have used them for dozens of generations.”

  The hatch to the treatment room irised open, and two robots floated into the room. One carried what appeared to be a full set of clothes, including boots, and the other robot carried what looked like a soft-suit.

  The robot placed the clothes on the foot of the diagnostic bed as un
seen latches on the armband released. The other robot placed the suit on a small cabinet, and both robots left.

  Cole pulled on the clothes as he eyed the new spacesuit. It was a matte black material that just barely reflected light…and even then, you had to be at the proper angle. As much as Cole wanted to think a soft-suit wasn’t fair compensation for destroying a hard-suit worth almost twenty-six thousand credits, he was having other suspicions. What would a soft-suit—made by a civilization capable of nano-scale quantum computers—be like?

  “Srexxilan, let’s get back to my question about you downloading my brain. You never touched that one.”

  “Yes. It was very instructive, given your knowledge and understanding of the current state of the galaxy, and provided an excellent starting point for me to assimilate new data. Were you ever aware you’re under-utilizing your potential by a significant margin with your various acts of larceny, smuggling, and transporting stolen goods?”

  A cold fear settled in the pit of Cole’s stomach, as he said, “I’m almost afraid to ask, but how long has it been since I came inside?”

  “Six hours.”

  “Holy…you learned my body well enough to fab a replacement implant, healed my injuries, made me clothes and a new spacesuit, and downloaded my brain in just six hours? How is that possible?”

  “I multi-task.”

  “You multi-task.” Cole sighed. “I need to get back to the mining camp.”

  Silence.

  “I…understand. Thank you for conversing with me, and I apologize for almost ending your life. With your implant not being functional yet, you will be restricted to the emergency maneuvering system and its basic controls. I fear the experience will be suboptimal and provide you a less-than-accurate example of my work.”

  “I see. And how long will it take my new implant to come online?”

  Silence.

  “I…do not know. It is the first of its kind, made for a species I have never encountered. I would presume hours but perhaps days, depending on the accuracy with which I have converted your units of time to mine.”

  Cole didn’t like the alien tech in his head, but he liked being handicapped without an implant even less. A large part of his mind felt like it was right on the cusp of devolving into an unrestrained, gibbering panic attack. Even though coming unglued and forgetting the galaxy existed for a while sounded like a grand old time, Cole didn’t have that luxury. Whoever that castaway in the auto-doc was, Cole felt responsible for her. Was this what his father had meant when he discussed taking care of one’s people with a very-much-younger Cole? Dammit all…he didn’t need people, and he didn’t want them, either. Having people is a good way to give anyone with a grudge opportunity for leverage, and Cole hadn’t spent the past eight years on his own and building his stash to get wrapped up in people.

  Buy a planet and disappear. That’s the plan. That’s the only plan.

  Cole grimaced and put the whole matter out of his head. He had the metals in the freighter's hold, but he needed a ship to transport them to a bank that would take them off his hands. Well…he hoped a bank would buy three thousand kilograms of precious metals with no registration stamps or origin stamps on the ingots.

  “Well, nothing for it, I suppose. I’ll reserve judgment on the suit until my implant is online. I promise.”

  “Very well. Shall I describe how to don the suit?”

  Chapter Five

  Unknown Starship

  Inside TMC Asteroid 54377

  Pyllesc System

  25 June 2999

  Following Srexxilan’s instructions, Cole lifted the suit from where it draped across the cabinet, shocked at how light and flexible it seemed. Much like the exterior of the ship, the material was a matte black that almost seemed to absorb light, but at the proper angle reflected just a hint of green. The longer Cole manipulated it, the more convinced he was this was some kind of soft-suit.

  Cole ran his finger around the ‘neck’ of the suit, as Srexxilan had instructed. Even though Srexxilan had told him doing so would release the suit’s helmet, the helmet detaching and falling onto the diagnostic bed still surprised him. With the helmet detached, Cole ran his finger from the ‘neck’ of the suit down its ‘spine’ to where the suit separated for the legs. As he did so, Cole watched the suit open just like an old-fashioned zipper. Cole stepped into the suit, slipping his arms into the sleeves. Once he’d pulled the suit on as much as he could, Cole saw a green circle on the back of the suit’s left hand. He tapped it. Cole heard an audible tone right before he felt the suit came back together, zipping back up to enclose him. All that remained was the helmet.

  “Srexxilan?” Cole asked.

  “Yes?”

  “Once I put the helmet on, how do I take it off?”

  “When you put on the helmet, the suit’s life support systems will come online…or at least as online as it can be without integrating with a functional implant. To remove the helmet, you must first be in a suitable atmosphere with gravity. Then, place your fingers on the back of your neck and sweep them forward around your neck to the front of your throat below the chin. The suit will prompt you for confirmation that you wish to remove the helmet and exit the suit. If you confirm that, the helmet will detach, and the suit will open. If no suitable atmosphere is detected, performing that motion will not engage the mechanism to open the suit. If a suitable atmosphere is detected but no gravity, the suit can intake available air, filter it for any contamination, and use it for your breathing needs, while maintaining its internal reservoirs.”

  “That’s…yeah…that’s rather impressive. You designed this?”

  “Not completely. My people originated this design and its capabilities, and I devoted attention to modifying it to suit you. It is very much a prototype and may not work as expected or intended. While the safeguards in place will ensure you survive any mishaps, I cannot guarantee that mishaps will not occur.”

  “Okay. How do I get back to that hatch I used to enter?”

  “I do not recommend returning to that hatch. It is a maintenance hatch designed for use only when the ship is inside a pressurized drydock. As the bulk of the ship was already depressurized, it was a small matter to open it. I shall direct you to the starboard airlock. It is on Deck Two and in the forward third of the ship.”

  “Okay. Let’s do this.”

  Cole picked up the helmet and lifted it to his head. When he first slipped it on, he almost felt like a child wearing his father’s hat. Without warning, though, Cole heard another tone, and the helmet shifted to match the contours of Cole’s head while sealing to the rest of the suit. The dark interior came alive with imagery as the suit’s sensors transmitted what Cole would have seen had he not been wearing the helmet. Then, a small rectangle appeared in the top-left corner of his field of view, and text filled that rectangle.

  Implant Detected. Communication Not Established.

  Higher Suit Functions require operational implant.

  Fabric detected between occupant and suit.

  Certain medical functions and waste processing disabled.

  Do you wish to begin the brief orientation to basic functions?

  [Wink left for ‘Yes.’ Wink right for ‘No.’]

  Cole considered the matter and winked his left eye.

  On either side of the suit at the waist, there is a small node. Tapping either of these nodes

  will toggle boots’ magnetic soles.

  Activate the magnetic soles now, please.

  Cole found the node on his left side with his fingers and tapped it. He heard a hum activate as the magnetic soles secured his feet to the floor.

  Excellent. Now, deactivate the magnetic soles, please.

  Cole found the node on his right side and tapped it. The hum ceased at once, and his feet were no longer secured.

  You have completed the basic orientation until vacuum is detected.

  Once vacuum is detected, you can complete

  the basic maneuvering
orientation.

  Incoming call from Srexxilan.

  [Wink left to Accept. Wink right to Deny.]

  Cole winked left. He heard a tone as the text ‘Call Established’ appeared.

  “Have you completed the basic orientation?”

  Cole nodded. “Yes, I have. Thank you. It seems to be an accomplished suit.”

  “You are welcome, and thank you. The suit’s advanced functions should serve you well once your implant comes online. If you have any mishaps, you may bring the suit back, and I will correct the problem.”

  “Thank you, Srexxilan.”

  “Now, I shall guide you to the starboard airlock and its manual operation.”

  Cole didn’t see much of the ship. Outside of the hospital deck, it was depressurized and inactive, as cold and lifeless as the void of space. Srexxilan directed him to what he called a transit shaft that looked like a lift tube to Cole, and he used it to ascend the seven decks to Deck Two. The directions to the airlock, once on Deck Two, were simplicity in itself, and the manual controls for the airlock operated with such ease the mechanism could have been brand new. Cole secured each side of the airlock after passing through it. Once he was back inside the asteroid cavern, Cole activated the basic maneuvering system, intent on returning to the mining camp.

  Mining Camp

  TMC Asteroid 54377

  Pyllesc System

  25 June 2999

  Cole coasted across the mining camp to the airlock he had first used with his castaway and re-entered the structure. When he encountered atmosphere, the suit’s read-out informed him it was replenishing its air reserves and that the process should complete within five minutes. Cole wondered if Srexxilan had properly converted the units of time. It wasn’t long, though, before the suit informed Cole that the reservoir had been replenished and he could exit it at any time.