Sol (The Silver Ships Book 5)
Page 10
“Why can’t we share it with anyone now?” Jason asked.
“Sometimes you have to do things that appear mean in order to actually help people. Medical treatment for your people is critical. This is one way to ensure they’ll receive it. Are you willing to help me do that?”
Jason nodded reluctantly as did the other seven rebel children accompanying him.
Cordelia turned around to demonstrate the food dispenser and explain the menu selection process. Z had added a simple visual-touch display that Earthers could access since they were without implants. A young girl, no more than eight, hurried to the side of the dispenser and stared at Cordelia’s mouth.
“That’s Ginny,” Jason said, pointing to the little girl. “She can’t hear, but she can read your lips.”
“Hello, Ginny,” Cordelia mouthed silently, and the girl’s face lit up in a bright smile. Cordelia picked her up and sat her on the dispenser’s shelf so she wouldn’t miss the instructions. Despite the children’s desire to select some of the more exotic menu items for their first meal, Cordelia gently guided them to foods packed with the nutrition the young rebels needed.
Seated at a long, bench-like table, it didn’t take long to make the children converts to Haraken food. Their first tastes were tentative, the second tastes less so, and then silence reigned as food was shoveled quickly and efficiently.
Cordelia heard Terese’s uproarious laughter, which was only silenced by the closing of the comm.
It didn’t take long for a group of passing rebels to spot the children plowing through trays of food and sought to join them. Cordelia barred their way and signaled to the medical nanites she hoped to discover in their bodies. None were present.
“Jason,” Cordelia called out, “these people haven’t been to medical yet. What should I do?”
“You have to go to medical first,” Jason called out, barely taking time to point with a spoon before he went back to shoveling his food.
“That way,” a little girl pointed with a fork before she too resumed cleaning her plate.
One of the older men might have argued, but his compatriots deserted him, heading in the direction the children had indicated, and he reluctantly trotted after them.
“Well done, children,” Cordelia said. She came to the side of the deaf girl, who with her back to the door failed to grasp the entire exchange, and gently stroked her hair. The little one smiled up at her and returned to devouring her food.
* * *
Immediately after Julien’s interview with Lieutenant Morris, he commandeered the station’s financial programs and computers, freezing out all remote access. Julien’s initial investigation provided Alex with the information the president shared with the Tribunal concerning Major Lindling’s diversion of station funds.
Alex sent back. When silence greeted Alex’s message, he sent
Julien transferred the major’s funds to the station’s general ledger account and left a single credit in the officer’s personal account. Then he sent a short summary sheet of the station’s accounts to Alex and returned to setting up an account for each rebel. To Julien, it appeared an exercise in futility, considering the limited economic future for the rebels, but he had faith in Alex’s intuition.
* * *
Alex shifted again in his chair, trying to find a comfortable position. Despite his crew locating the widest station chairs they could find and removing the arms, the final result was terribly inadequate, and Renée ordered some wide-bodied, nanites-driven chairs from the fleet’s ships to accommodate the New Terran-born Harakens while they were on station.
“I’ve some pleasant news,” Alex announced to Nikki and Vic, seated across the table from him. The large rebel audience, who had attended their first meeting, was gone, which Alex appreciated. Now, only some of the senior rebel figures attended the ongoing meetings with Nikki and Vic. The exceptions were two scrawny teenagers, who often sat or stood near Z and rarely took their eyes off him.
“The militia didn’t have time to make the latest transfer of credits off the station, which leaves the station with a nice surplus,” Alex continued. “We will be sharing half of those funds among your people, Ser Fowler. Call it a down payment on reparations. The remainder will be used to pay station personnel salaries, maintenance services, and for amenities my people use.”
“How much will you be keeping for yourselves?” Vic asked, his chin jutting out and his eyes narrowing.
“Will station accounts be made available for our review, Mr. President?” Nikki asked, attempting to diffuse the tension between the two men.
“I would certainly think so, considering,” Alex said, a broad smile replacing his frown.
“Considering what?” Nikki asked dubiously.
“Did I not mention this? How forgetful of me, Ser Fowler,” Alex said, his grin becoming even broader. “I’m appointing you the station’s new director. I believe your grandfather held the post before he fled the militia to the inner ring with the core of the rebel faction.”
“How can you know that?” Nikki asked incredulously.
“My people have been collecting information from your people and sending it to me,” Alex replied, tapping his temple.
“Did we not tell you there was much more to discover about the Harakens?” Olawale said to Nikki. He had opted to stand in a corner rather than suffer with the narrow station chairs.
“Okay, fine. You’re learning our history. Then you should know that my experience is limited to the inner ring and core. I know nothing about the outer ring … docking and bay fees, ship service fees, owner leases, and … and everything to do with the outer ring,” Nikki said, waving her arms to indicate the entire station’s outer face.
“Then you will need help, and I’ve arranged for that,” Alex said, crooking his finger at someone behind Nikki and Vic.
The rebel leaders looked around to see Captain Yun walking toward them.
“Oh no, not him!” Vic yelled, standing up and knocking over his chair.
“Sit or leave, Ser,” Alex said quietly.
Nikki took one look at the president’s face and ordered Vic to sit down. Vic was torn between continuing his objection and obeying his leader. Finally, he righted his chair and grudgingly sat back down.
“Captain,” Alex said, motioning him forward. “It’s my understanding, Ser Fowler, that Captain Yun understands the financial workings of the station’s outer ring quite well.”
“And just how are we supposed to keep an eye on him?” Vic demanded.
“Two of our SADEs will have ultimate control of the station’s financial systems and will approve all credit transfers,” Alex replied.
“You mentioned that word once or twice before, Mr. President. What’s a SADE?” Nikki asked.
“They are my friends … very unique entities that y
ou might call artificial intelligences or AIs. We call them self-aware digital entities or SADEs.”
“Milt piss,” Vic said, leaning back in his chair with disgust at the lie that was being foisted on them.
“Mr. Lambert,” said Yoram Penzig, the UE scientists’ diminutive philosopher, who was sporting fresh hair growth over a bald pate that hadn’t seen hair in decades, “it’s understandable that you have doubts. What’s amazing to me is that you’re unwilling to learn if those doubts are proven true or false”
“So is one of these AIs here, or do you keep them in a box?” Vic asked, snickering.
“I’m present,” Z replied.
“You?” Vic said. His mouth dropped open at the thought that the huge man wasn’t human.
Nikki glanced toward the scientists, who were clapping and smiling.
“Another one,” Olawale called out, thinking that the Cedric avatar and voice marked him as a SADE they hadn’t met.
“On the contrary, Ser,” Z replied in Miranda’s voice. “You met me at meal time aboard the Rêveur.”
“Z … and Miranda … and Cedric,” Wombo exclaimed. “How many versions of you are there?”
“There’s only one version of me, Ser, but I have many avatars. However, Miranda is an alternate persona,” Z said. Most of the time, Z thought.
“Nice voice trick,” Vic said, unconvinced. Before he could blink, Z was at his side, yanking him out of the chair, and holding Vic’s head to his massive chest. Struggle as much as Vic might, it was in vain. His head was locked in an inhuman, vise-like grip.
Nikki glanced at the president, who appeared entirely unperturbed by the actions of one of his men.
“Stop struggling, human, and listen carefully,” Z demanded. The voice he used was as surreal as was his avatar’s strength.
Vic chose to obey, seeing that he had no choice. He waited to hear the rasp of lungs and the heartbeat of a human, but after moments he heard nothing. He twisted his head to better place his ear on the man’s chest and the grip on his head lessened. Finally, Vic stood up, staring incredulously at Z. “You … you don’t have a heartbeat and you don’t breathe,” he stammered.
“Perhaps now, human, you begin to understand,” Z said. “Now, sit and learn before our patience runs out with your child-like mouthing.”
“Milt piss, a robot,” Jodlyne said, stepping up to Z and poking him gently in the ribs to see what he felt like.
“A robot? No, little one, I am the great wizard, Oz,” Z said, paraphrasing one of his favorite ancient Terran stories. He smiled at the little rebel who had been shadowing him with her friend for days.
“Absolutely zounding!” Jodlyne gushed, staring up into Z’s face.
“How many SADEs are with you?” Nikki asked.
“I believe I met one,” Captain Yun said. “Would he be called Julien, Mr. President?”
“Yes, among other things, Captain,” Alex replied, a small smile crossing his face. “The third is Cordelia. It will be Z and Julien who will control the financial accounts and ensure the station’s credits flow as you request. Congratulations, on your new position, Ser Fowler,” Alex said extending his hand.
Nikki was stunned. Her objections had been swept away by the Haraken president’s planning. She glanced up at the president’s partner, Renée, who smiled and winked at her. These people might be more dangerous than the militia, Nikki thought, shaking the president’s hand to accept his offer.
* * *
With their experience as directors of the Harakens’ Central Exchange, it was a simple task for the SADEs to manage the station’s flow of credits — docking and bay fees, ship services fees, leases, personnel salaries, etc. However, Z did lodge a complaint with Alex about the antiquated computer applications the SADEs were forced to use.
“Then build your own financial system,” was the phrase Alex threw off to Z as he hurried to his next meeting.
Z requisitioned one of the carrier’s spare controllers and, within several hours, installed it in the station’s central control offices. While Z set up the controller’s applications, Julien and Cordelia upgraded the station’s myriad terminals with new software.
The improved system was a delight to owners and operators aboard the station, who witnessed complete transparency of their accounts. Ship owners and captains could check the cost of docking and service fees in advance and order/approve services as needed from any terminal.
Credits began flowing through Idona Station as smoothly as water, and, most important, people knew exactly what services and supplies they were receiving and approving for payment.
-10-
Word passed from captain to captain, ship to ship, from the far asteroid fields to the outer rim’s innermost colony — strange humans accompanied by artificial intelligences had taken over Idona Station, backed off a UE destroyer 1M kilometers inward, disarmed the station’s militia without any loss of life, freed the rebels, and opened the station for business.
It began as a trickle, which became a stream, which grew into a flood.
Freighters were the first to respond, offloading shipments of food, fertilizing minerals for the Idona food production beds, clothing, bedding, and other personal supplies — all for the rebels. Then freighters and passenger ships brought the descendants of shop owners who had fled the militia when the station was overtaken and were intent on recovering their families’ assets. Many people hoped to reopen their shops, especially if Idona might prosper once again.
People from all walks of life stopped at Idona — store owners with credits; individuals spending their last credits to make for the asteroid fields’ mining operations; wealthy people aboard their yachts, curious to see the strangers; and criminals, who were attracted to any opportunity.
For the rebels, the growth was a bonanza. While some hired on as station maintenance and ship services personnel, many of them took over their grandparents’ abandoned shops, restaurants, and sleepovers. They found the SADEs willing to extend credits for equipment and supplies to get their enterprises started.
Julien and Z were close to draining the station’s accounts to finance the rebels’ shops and their positions as the station’s new employees, before the inflow of credits exceeded the outflow. That trend accelerated when Nikki, in her capacity as station director, reinstituted the station’s full range of services and their associated fees, which the militia had failed to maintain, due primarily to the lack of station personnel.
Ore-freighter captains from the asteroid fields, who sympathized with the rebels, accepted the restored docking fees now that the credits weren’t going into the militia’s pockets. As for the returning shop owners, the leasing fees were an expected part of doing business, and the wealthy … well, they had credits in abundance.
* * *
Tatia saw trouble coming from several directions the busier the station became and worked to head off the problems. She ordered Mickey and his engineering people to upgrade the sensors at the docks and bays. The Haraken sensors could detect bio, mech, and tech paraphernalia, as well as explosive material.
Unfortunately, time was against the Harakens. The enormous number of bays and docks surrounding the station’s outer circumference and stacked on multiple levels made it impossible to complete the number of installations in order to stay ahead of the ever-increasing growth in visitors.
Tatia suggested that Mickey focus on bay airlocks. In her opinion, trouble would come from the independent operators, who flew an assortment of small ships, which required bays to access the station. The freighters and liners, which would use berths on the docking arms, were thought to be the lesser concern.
More than one thrill seeker, who landed in a station’s bay, was challenged by Haraken troopers when they set off the airlock sensors. On the first infraction, their st
ash of fun chemicals, weapons, or whatever was confiscated, to be returned on their exit from the station. For second infractions, and there were a few slow learners, the airlock simply failed to open on the station side, and the offending individuals were informed via a pleasant message recorded by Cordelia that they were unwelcome on the station and then wished good fortune.
Subtle issues arose from those who set off the sensors because of their bionic prostheses. After a careful scan cleared them, many of these people, talking to the rebels, discovered the stories of the Harakens’ impressive medical technology. Their requests for medical aid became a sore point between Alex and Terese. She wanted to offer services to anyone who could be helped, and Alex adamantly refused.
“If we offer miraculous cures for the ailing, Terese, we’ll be inundated,” Alex said. “We can’t start this and then stop once we leave.”
“Then why are we helping the rebels? Let’s just refuse medical services to everyone,” Terese replied hotly.
“I need the rebels to turn this station around, and I need them healthy. Your medical services are partial repayment for what they’ve suffered under the UE.”
“Is that your last word on the subject, your highness?” Terese asked, her face a hot mask.
When Alex nodded, Terese whirled around and marched back into her clinic in a huff. Alex, just as dissatisfied with the discussion as Terese, spun around, and Étienne neatly stepped out of his way.