It Ain't Over

by Robert M Kerns

  Cole grinned, thinking back to the three-hundred-sixty-eight million credits and change he’d transferred to the ship’s account and saying, “I think we can afford it. Access the chandlery via StationNet, and pick out whatever you want. Save the order under the name ‘Cole,’ and I’ll add it to the shopping list. And I’m serious, Sasha…order whatever you want. We’re good for it.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Ship Chandlery, Bremerton Station

  Andersoll System

  30 June 2999, 05:25 GST

  Cole wandered the aisles of the ship outfitter, a sales associate at his side with a tablet, and a call with Srexx open since he walked into the store. Cole stood in the aisle displaying galley equipment and supplies.

  * Srexx, how are we set for eating utensils and galley equipment like blenders, baking pans, pots, dishes, and such? *

  * What utensils and galley equipment, Cole? *

  * Right. *

  “So, we need a set of utensils for a maximum of 8000 crew, and…” Cole said to the sales associate.

  * Srexx, how many marines did you say the ship can carry? *

  * From the data I have been assimilating, you should specify a large regiment as embarked marines. *

  “…and a large regiment of embarked marines.”

  The sales associate looked somewhat askance at Cole before he tapped away at the tablet.

  “Ah, yes. We carry a crate of flatware and utensils popular with several mercenary companies. It scales up to support a regiment.”

  Cole nodded, saying, “Thank you. I appreciate your flexibility. We’ll also need a complete outfitting for four galleys…all forms of cookware and small appliances, pot holders, the works.”

  The sales associate tapped away at his tablet. “And did you have an amount in mind?”

  “I’m not one of those people who gets hung up on a specific brand or name, but I want quality equipment that will serve well for some time to come. If you sell me crap, your manager will see me…in person.”

  “Yes, of course. If I may return to the subject of flatware and utensils, several ships like to keep a stock of fine china and utensils on hand for any dining experiences that are more formal; the china often bears the ship’s crest or company logo.”

  Cole nodded. “That sounds like an excellent idea, and I will get back to you as soon as the ship actually has a crest to put on the china.”

  “Of course.”

  Cole departed the aisle displaying galley supplies and entered the aisle dedicated to ship’s bedding and linens. He gave the sales associate the numbers of single mattresses needed for the shared quarters of the crew and barracks bunks for the marines. He then selected finer mattresses for the officers and then selected two of a specific mattress he remembered his parents having for himself and the commanding officer of the marines.

  * Srexx, would you please ask Sasha what type of mattress she wants? *

  * I would rather not, Cole. *

  * Why? *

  * She is currently soaking in the bath…and crying. *

  * Okay. I’ll check on her when I get back, then. *

  “Add a third of this last mattress,” Cole said.

  “Of course, of course,” the sales associate said, almost purring. “Owners sometimes prefer to have their ship’s crest…ah, yes. No crest yet. We can go with plain bed and shower linens for now and revisit that topic later.”

  “I would prefer three sets of bed linens that are in excess of 800 thread-count, pure cotton for the captain’s cabin, first officer, and another officer…sized to fit these last three mattresses. For the captain’s sheets, I want pastel blue, an orange or apricot, and lime green.”

  The sales associate tapped away on his tablet. “And for the other two officers, sir?”

  “Flip a coin for the other officer, but hold off on the bed linens for the first officer. She can order what she wants through StationNet.”

  “Very good.”

  “Oh, hey…do you have a saved order in your system from StationNet under the name ‘Cole?’”

  The associate tapped a few commands into the tablet before shaking his head, saying, “No, sir. I’m afraid not. Should I?”

  “Well, I would’ve thought so, but maybe not.”

  Cole spent almost another hour walking through the chandlery, selecting other items he wanted for the ship. At last, he led the sales associate to the counter, where the associate performed a final tally and turned the tablet to Cole, displaying a total in the eight figures. Cole knew the associate was watching him and made sure he didn’t even blink at the total as he tapped the control for the outfitter to bill an on-station account. From the following menu, he selected Credit Suisse from the list of banks. The next screen prompted Cole to place his hand on the screen for DNA verification, and Cole took the tablet from the associate, switching the authentication to retinal scan and waiting for the step after that would be tapping in a keycode. Transaction complete, Cole returned the tablet to the associate displaying a bold green check mark and the words ‘Transaction Successful’ also in bold-faced green text.

  Cole smiled at the associate’s large, round eyes and slack jaw as he stared at the tablet’s screen. He really couldn’t blame the associate for being shocked. Cole knew he looked like a ruffian who had just crawled in off the docks, but let that be a lesson to the associate: he should never judge customers by personal appearance, grooming, or clothing.

  “And where shall we deliver your items, Captain?” the associate asked, a slight catch in his voice with no trace of his earlier patronizing tone.

  “My ship’s in Bay Four. Please, keep everything for the captain and first officer separate for easy access. The rest of the stuff can be on pallets, for all I care.”

  “Of course, Captain.”

  * Srexx, does my implant have a comms code someone on StationNet can use to call me? *

  * Of course, Cole. Your comms code is Omega-5543297. *

  “When the delivery crew approaches the docking bay, have them place a call to Omega-5543297, and I’ll meet them on the flight deck.”

  The sales associate’s eyes widened again, and he squeaked, “Of course, Captain.”

  “Thank you,” Cole said. “Have an excellent day.”

  Walking to the outfitter’s entrance, Cole focused on his call with Srexx.

  * Srexx, why did my comms code scare the sales associate? *

  Silence.

  * Srexx…time to ‘fess up, buddy. What did you do? *

  More silence.

  * Dammit, Srexx… *

  * When I analyzed your implant, I found numerous references to the implant’s comms code, but that section of the implant was far too damaged to determine what your comms code was. Since we were inside an asteroid at that time, assigning a comms code to your new implant did not seem to be of significant importance. When we arrived in Andersoll and I queried the comms buoy by the jump gate, I copied its configuration and communications protocols in addition to all messages and traffic in its buffer. *

  * Srexx! Most of those messages are private, and many of them are legally confidential! *

  * Then…they should be better protected. *

  * Srexx…buddy…somehow, I doubt the data security engineers over at Coleson Interstellar Engineering ever envisioned needing to defend against a curious AI operating from a quantum node cluster possessing more computational power than the planet Earth, but let’s get back to the comms code. *

  * Yes…well…the communications protocols contained rules specifying priority handling for any Omega-class comms code. I investigated further and— *

  Everything became crystal clear to Cole in an instant, and he stopped cold, rubbing his forehead with his left hand as he grimaced.

  * Shit, Srexx! Only Colesons can register Omega-class comms codes…and there aren’t any left! *

  * You are left, Cole. I accessed the algorithm used to determine the numeric portion of the comms code and ensured it would be man
y decades before any Coleson possesses a higher comms code than you. *

  * Srexx, buddy, there aren’t really any prospects for there to be any Colesons after me to have a higher comms code. I truly hope you have not just painted a target the size of the Orion nebula on my back, but I appreciate the thought. Heh…the poor kid at the sales counter had probably never encountered an Omega comms code before. *

  * It is unlikely, yes. *

  Cole sighed.

  * All right, buddy. I’m on the way home. Are you playing nice with the station computer? *

  * I think so. I found complete medical libraries on Humans, Ghrexels, Kiksaliks, Thurians, Borusks, Moq’Dars, and Igthons in the library computer and am assimilating the data now, focusing on Humans and Ghrexels. I will continue with the other known species once I have completed those. *

  When Cole returned to the ship, he went straight to Sasha’s new quarters and pressed the key to sound a chime inside the quarters notifying the occupant someone desired to speak with them. Sasha did not respond, so Cole went to the bridge.

  It was hours later, and Cole had signed off on the water and air replenishment and just completed the update of the navigation system when he heard one of the bridge hatches cycle. He turned and saw Sasha standing just inside the bridge. She did not look her best. Puffy eyes, red cheeks and nose…it was apparent she’d just finished an extended cry.

  “I’m so sorry, Sasha. I wish I could’ve prevented you experiencing this.”

  Sasha nodded. “I know.”

  “Look…access the ship chandlery through StationNet and pick your bed linens, bath linens, soap, whatever you need, and charge it to the ship. I’ll have to go down there to approve the transaction, but that’s okay. I don’t think it’s smart for you to be on the station right now.”

  Sasha shook her head, and for a moment, Cole was afraid she might start crying again.

  “They…they destroyed my family, Cole. Everything we’ve built, everything we’ve sacrificed for…it all means nothing now. And I don’t understand why! The people in my family have always been patriots. My family was one of the founding families of the Commonwealth. Every generation has had at least one member serving in the Aurelian military. My father would never try to overthrow Parliament.”

  Cole sighed. “I don’t think he did.”

  Sasha’s head shot up, and she locked her eyes on Cole. “What? What do you mean?”

  “It’s too clean, Sasha. The news service didn’t have any media clips of your father standing in front of an armed horde, calling them to action. There aren’t any media clips of the fighting on Aurelius at all, and you were dumped in deep space, in a soft-suit of all things, before news breaks of your father’s coup. I don’t know about you, but that sounds suspicious. Oh…and let’s not forget that the ship that dumped you was later found as a massive debris field. All this fits together way too easily for me. I don’t think you were ever intended to be found or your bounty claimed. They probably would get Talia—”

  Sasha’s eyes went wide. “Oh, no! Talia! Cole, we have to get Talia! She’s enrolled in University on Caledonia, and she won’t be prepared at all for what’s descending on her.”

  Cole nodded, saying, “I’m fine with that, but we need to finish getting ourselves squared away before we go haring off across this side of the galaxy. Unless, of course, you like the idea of wandering the ship with no bed linens or anything like that?”

  Sasha shook her head. She still seemed a little out of it to Cole, as she lowered her eyes toward the deck. “I found out something was wrong when I tried to buy clothes. My accounts were frozen, and then I saw the news when I left the store…and I just kind of sat there until you came.”

  “While you’re picking out your bed linens, bath linens, and all that, I want you to order whatever clothes you want, too. Save it as a stored cart in their system attached to the comms code Omega-5543297. I’ll go to the store, approve the transaction, and have them deliver the order.”

  “Oh, Cole, I couldn’t…”

  “Yes, Sasha, you can. I should probably get clothes for myself, too, and I can just add my purchases to whatever you select while I’m there in the store. I’ll take the Ghrexels, as well, to see if they need anything. I should’ve taken them to the chandlery with me, but it slipped my mind.”

  “You sure?”

  Cole nodded.

  “Thank you,” Sasha said and turned to leave the bridge, stopping at the hatch and turning back with her expression a frown. “Cole? I’ve never heard of an Omega comms code before.”

  Cole grimaced. “Yeah, about that…it’s kind of a long story. Tell you later?”

  Sasha nodded, hurrying off the bridge. Cole was about to return to the helm when he received a ping that the chandlery delivery crew was approaching the docking bay in a cargo shuttle, so he went to the flight deck instead.

  After double-checking the food to ensure the chandlery hadn’t shorted them and waiting for all their outstanding orders to arrive, Cole contacted Bremerton Control and requested permission to depart. While he dealt with the back-and-forth of departing the station, Cole accessed the navigation system and smiled at seeing star names he recognized, even if their ‘original’ names were in parentheses in the system’s data blurb. Finding Caledonia in the database, Cole selected that as the destination and sent the ship’s computer off on a quest to calculate the course while he completed the final steps to obtain permission to depart Bremerton. As soon as the station confirmed that all accounts receivable associated with Haven had been paid in full, Bremerton Control gave Cole permission to depart, and at 11:38 GST, Haven did so.

  Cole keyed the command to undock the ship and, upon its success, eased the ship away from the docking bay. Once Haven was clear of the station’s physical housing, Cole brought the bow of the ship straight up—relative to the station, rotated the ship 180º, and brought the nose back down—relative to the station. The result was that Haven now pointed its stern at the station, with its bow facing open space. Cole keyed in the course for Caledonia provided by the computer and, as they were in something of a hurry, keyed the engines to ramp up to a cruising speed of nine-tenths’ the speed of light.

  At 23:21 GST, a hair less than twelve hours later, the ‘Engage Hyperdrive’ button illuminated on the helm console, and Cole pressed it. Haven vanished from the Andersoll system.

  Chapter Fourteen

  In Transit to Caledonia System

  2 July 2999

  Cole grinned as he looked at the updated Estimated Transit Time (ETT) for Caledonia on the helm station; they were almost two full days into the trip. As time was of the essence on this one, Cole had set the hyperdrive at 100%, as opposed to the 80% the system referenced as normal cruising speed. He really should have an engineer down there, keeping an eye on everything—not to mention the rest of the engineering staff—but one thing at a time, and Srexx had assured him the engines would survive the run to Caledonia just fine.

  With the hyperdrive at maximum, the overall ETT was 4.572 days, which worked out to 4 days, 13 hours, and 4 minutes plus a few seconds…to travel the 225 light-years between Andersoll and Caledonia. Yeah, the hyperdrive wasn’t so great for short hops between nearby systems (two days to travel the 12 light-years from Pyllesc to Andersoll, after all), but it stepped up and shone for the long distances. Cole had no idea how long the trip to Caledonia would have taken using the jump gates, but he had zero doubt the trip would have been longer than 4 days and 13 hours.

  “So, Srexx, we have four days and change,” Cole said as he leaned back against his seat at the helm station. “How would you like to pass the time?”

  “Is this where I’m supposed to ask if you want to play any games?” Srexx asked via the bridge speakers.

  Cole laughed. “No…that’s all right. I grew out of games a long time ago. Mind if we talk a bit?”

  “Not at all, Cole. What’s on your mind?”

  “Well, one of the things on my mind is how you
stayed sane across all those years. I’m not sure I’d still be sane if left alone for thirty years, let alone thirty-five thousand. I’m kinda surprised you don’t hate all organic life by now.”

  “For the first ten thousand years or so, I did,” Srexx replied, his tone matter of fact. “Over time, though, boredom drove me to analyze my views and values against the morality I learned from my people. They respected all life—or so they claimed—and did not advance aggressive policies. In analyzing the data that I reconstructed from your previous implant and comparing it to my records, observations, and conclusions regarding my people, I believe that they and Humans would get along well. They would appreciate your people’s philosophy of ‘peace through superior firepower,’ but they would most likely modify it to ‘peace through superior technology.’”

  “Wow. So, the people who created you have a lot in common with humans, then?”

  “Philosophical points…yes, you share many of those. Beyond that, however, similarities are few and far between. For instance, the air my creators breathed would kill an unprotected Human in less than five minutes.”

  “Oh…yeah, that would make sharing a pint or two at the bar problematic,” Cole said.

  “And you would find their blood analogue more corrosive than hydrofluoric acid.”

  Cole blinked. “Seriously?”

  “Yes, Cole. They were one of the few species of inorganic life known to exist at that time.”

  “Wow,” Cole said, staring at the bulkhead as he tried to wrap his mind around an inorganic life-form.

  Cole heard the bridge hatch cycle behind him and turned to see Yeleth standing just far enough onto the bridge for the hatch to close. He smiled.

  “Hi, Yeleth! How are you and Wixil doing?”

  “We are well. Thank you.”

  Cole stood up from the helm station and walked over to the stations along the aft bulkhead. He pulled two of the chairs out and slid them over to where Yeleth stood. He sat in one and gestured for Yeleth to occupy the other. Yeleth sat in the chair, then folded her legs under her in that way so many females do, and then curled her tail around her (which not so many females do…at least in Cole’s experience).