Homeward: The Ship Series // Book Three

by Jerry Aubin

  Aleron’s cheeks flushed almost a shade darker than his uniform, and he turned and hustled away without a further word. The Marine addressed her with the slightest smile creasing his mouth.

  “Cadet—we’re ready to head out. Follow me.”

  Kalare fell into step behind the Marine and contacted Zax again.

  “Sorry about that. I ran into Aleron. I had no idea he was coming down here too! You would’ve loved it. Sergeant Bailee reminded him about his screw-up from the maintenance tunnels, and he went running away with his tail between his legs.”

  There was an uncomfortable silence. Kalare would have imagined Zax would be thrilled to hear about Bailee tormenting Aleron, but once again her friend reacted negatively to the simple mention of the engineering cadet’s name. She really needed to get to the bottom of his issues, but Zax always shut her down whenever she broached the topic. She wanted to be compassionate as she knew he had been through a lot, but she was approaching the end of her patience around it all. Zax finally replied.

  “I hope everything goes well down there. Don’t get into any trouble, OK? I’ve got to get going.”

  “Sure thing, Zax. Unless we find anything interesting, I think the plan is that we’ll be back in time for dinner. I’ll see you then and tell you all about it!”

  Zax cut the connection without another word. Kalare put her frustration with him aside and smiled at the Boss as she approached.

  “Sir—thank you for allowing me to accompany you.”

  “Sure thing, cadet. Stay close, OK? If anything unexpected happens, I want you near Bailee.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The Boss turned and strode toward the main administration building. Kalare followed and Bailee fell into formation behind her. They were joined by three other Marines. At least, three who were visible. Kalare had been hearing rumors the Boss had a new and ever-present security detail cloaked in ChamWare, and she was determined to catch a sign of their presence if they really existed.

  What struck her most as they walked was the stillness around them. There was no wind whatsoever and no noise other than the crunch of the dirt under their feet. The air smelled as sterile as it did on the Ship, though it carried far more heat and humidity. Beads of perspiration formed on her brow and her shirt clung uncomfortably to the small of her back.

  They reached the entrance of the administration building, and one of the Marines checked a slate before addressing Bailee.

  “Sergeant—sensors confirm no movement and no signs of life inside. Do you want us to verify the building is clear before the Boss enters?”

  The Boss jumped in before Bailee had a chance to reply.

  “Stand down, Marine. This place is deader than dead, so let’s not waste any more time than we absolutely must chasing ghosts. I want to find anything worthwhile, and then get out of here as fast as we can.”

  Bailee nodded in what came across as reluctant agreement, and they all entered. The most extraordinary thing to Kalare about the interior was that nothing was out of the ordinary. Everything inside the building was as boring and normal as everything else around the colony. It was as if the colonists had stood up in the middle of a work shift and left with nothing but the clothes on their back. At the Boss’s direction she dug through drawer after drawer for anything of interest, but everywhere she searched revealed nothing but the same, boring detritus of normal life.

  The Boss called them all together a short time later. He confirmed that no one had found anything of interest and sighed.

  “Well, that makes us just like the other teams then. Let’s get back to the shuttles and get off this rock. I have no idea what might have happened here, but there’s nothing to learn by staying any longer. We’ve got all of their data systems. Perhaps Alpha can find something interesting by sifting through their electronic records.”

  Kalare gave one last look around before she exited the building. The longer they stayed, the creepier the absolute normalcy became, so she was happy to head back to the Ship. As they walked back she smelled something odd. She turned and found that the tip of the Boss’s cigar glowed red and he was blowing smoke out of his mouth. The thing stank in an indescribably foul manner, and she found herself wildly grateful for the Ship’s regulations which prohibited the man from lighting it up more often.

  They reached the shuttles and found they were the last team to return. The Boss asked Kalare to wait for a quick word before boarding.

  “I hope you enjoyed this chance to get off the Ship, Kalare. I have big plans for your future that might well involve more missions like this, so it was great to see your comfort and composure down here. Some people have a hard time dealing with being out in the open on a planet after a lifetime cooped up on the Ship.”

  “It was fantastic, sir. Thanks again for allowing me to come along. I’ll look forward to doing it again, though I just hope next time there’s more interesting things to see and do.”

  The Boss exhaled one last cloud of acrid smoke and then tossed the remains of his cigar to the ground as he grinned.

  “Be careful what you wish for, cadet.”

  21

  You're correct, Boss.

  “Boss—we’ve burned a month and visited a dozen colonies and every one has been the same. The colonists on each planet have disappeared without a trace and without any signs of a struggle. Alpha has reviewed all of their data systems but reports everything has been purged so there are no electronic records. What the hell do you think is going on?”

  Imair pounded the table repeatedly in sync with her question. The shaking knocked a couple of pieces of fruit off the top of the bowl that was always there, and the Boss placed them back as he answered.

  “I don’t know, Madam President. It makes zero sense to me. These colonies have all been among our more recent ones, but the amount of local time which has elapsed since settlement has differed by hundreds of years. There shouldn’t be any commonality between them other than being relatively near each other—at least on a cosmic scale. The only thing I find interesting is that all of them have been lower quality planets.”

  Imair furrowed her brow. “Lower quality planets? What do you mean by that?”

  “Throughout the Ship’s history, we’ve applied a quality scale to each habitable planet we’ve discovered. We rank them from one to ten with regards to how attractive they are from a settlement perspective. There are a number of criteria we consider that factor into the final score, but it all boils down to how well the planet will support human life. The scale has been calibrated where a planet identical to Earth would rank as an eight—pretty attractive, but there have been numerous planets over time that were even better.”

  “OK—you said these have all been lower quality. What does that mean? Did they all rank as ones?”

  The Boss shook his head. “No, ma’am. A one is a planet where life is sustainable, but barely. We’ve settled a few of those in history, but only in times of significant distress where the Ship had not made Landfall for long periods of time. When the Ship first launched, their goal was to leave colonies on planets that scored a six or better. Over time, as the Crew realized the scarcity of habitable worlds, that shifted until three became the accepted threshold below which we would generally not settle. This group we have visited have been mostly fours and fives with one six in there.”

  Imair contemplated the explanation for a few min. The Boss watched her with a neutral expression.

  “That’s an interesting coincidence, Boss. I’m curious. Do we have any colonies that rank significantly higher and align with our present course back to Earth?”

  “I had a feeling you might react that way, ma’am. There is a system where the planet meets both of those criteria. It was rated a nine, and if we were to head straight there at our current pace of Transits, we would reach it in approximately eleven months. Shall we set that course right now?”

  Imair shook her head. “No. Let’s go ahead and check out the next colony on our list tom
orrow as planned. If we have the same experience there as we’ve had at all of the others, then let’s head straight to the planet that rated a nine. Would you suggest anything different?”

  “No, ma’am. That’s what I would recommend. There’s one thing I’m curious about, if I may. Perhaps I’ve missed it, but I haven’t heard any mention of the abandoned colonies on any of the newsvids. Is that accurate?”

  Imair had been waiting for the man to call her out on this topic and was fairly shocked it had taken this long.

  “You’re correct, Boss. We’ve intentionally withheld that information from wider broadcast. I’m sure rumors are spreading fast enough that trying to hide the news doesn’t make sense any longer, but my civilian advisors have counseled withholding it as the safest course of action.”

  “Why is that, ma’am? Aren’t you afraid you’ll lose your credibility with the civilian population when they discover you’ve been lying to them?”

  Imair grimaced. “Only every moment of every day. This has been my hardest decision since taking this role. Let’s be clear that we aren’t actually lying, though. I want transparency so everyone on the Ship understands what is happening with our journey, but I’ve gotten spooked by the amount of violence in the civilian sectors. If people hear that a Mission we pursued for 5,000 years is essentially a failure because every single colony has died, then it may destroy whatever final vestige of hope they’re nursing about our situation.”

  “I understand that rationalization, Madam President. I will offer that lies of omission are generally evaluated the same as lies of commission when the truth comes out. And it always comes out. What are you worried about, ma’am, another uprising?”

  “I realize it may sound absurd given your current situation, Boss, but there are far worse outcomes for the Ship and the Crew than what has happened after my Revolution. There are large swaths of the civilian population who argued for putting every single one of you out an airlock. You may not be thrilled about my leadership, but I can promise you’ll be less thrilled if you were to lose me and instead face some of the more radical civilian elements.”

  Imair knew the Boss was already dealing with at least one of the more radical elements in the form of Rege, but she didn’t want to hold him up as a negative example and thereby clue the Boss in to her true feelings about the dangerous civilian. As she tried to convince the Boss that her team was the most reasonable alternative to Crew rule, positioning Rege in his mind as someone who still qualified as “reasonable” was useful. The Boss appeared dubious about her explanation, but it wasn’t her job to convince the man. It was her job to maintain the fragile peace and that by itself required every ounce of her energy.

  “Thanks for the counsel, Boss. And thanks for sharing your opinion about my approach with the civilians. Even though I may not agree with your assessment, I appreciate hearing it. What’s the plan for this next colony?”

  “We’ll send out the scout shuttle shortly to scan the planet in advance of us jumping there tomorrow. Assuming it is like the rest, we’ll send a ground team to look up close and extract their data systems. Recent history suggests there won’t be anything on them, but we should be certain. Is there anything you would like to do differently?”

  There were many things that Imair wanted to do differently, but for now she was stuck on the path she had chosen. She shook her head.

  “No, that sounds great. Thank you. Dismissed.”

  22

  We all have our little hobbies.

  Reveille droned on and on and on. Zax ignored it and instead lounged in his bunk for an extended period (twenty demerits). He had increasingly lost interest in getting out of bed as the Ship discovered empty colony after empty colony. He hadn’t expected they would find the other humans anytime too soon, but he despaired a full decade of nutripellets if they continued at this rate.

  He shuffled to the showers and took one that was both extra hot (twenty demerits) and extra long (twenty more demerits). The extended soak didn’t soothe his mood, and his mindset got even worse when he glanced at the Theta Leaderboard on his way to breakfast. He was no longer in first place! Zax had been so focused on what was going on at the Academy that he had not paid attention to the Theta standings for weeks. His scoring cushion had evaporated, and sixty new demerits were sufficient to push him into second place! He knew he shouldn’t care about being number one since he had already gotten into the Academy, but he was vexed nonetheless.

  Zax dragged himself to the mess hall and grabbed “breakfast” from the dispenser. He considered tempting fate and eating real food instead of nutripellets, but he ultimately refrained. He was scheduled to work Flight Ops during the Transit to the next colony and wanted to maintain his streak of a puke-free threat board. He immediately regretted the decision to not medicate his depression with food when he found Mase at their table instead of Kalare.

  “Zax—Kalare had to check in with Aleron about something. She said she couldn’t wait for you any longer.”

  It was the perfect capstone to a crappy morning. Kalare had gone off with that oxygen thief yet again, and Zax had to hear the news from Mase. He slammed his nutripellets on to the table and flopped his body into a chair while choking back a scream. He knew it was an absurd overreaction to the situation, but that didn’t tame his response.

  The young Zeta observed Zax’s response to the mention of Aleron and then smiled. “Wow—you must really have a thing for her. I didn’t realize messing with you would have this much of an effect. She’s not off with Aleron. She had to take care of something at the Academy. She felt bad she would miss you this morning. I wouldn’t have joked around if I had known it would upset you so much.”

  Zax fought the urge to strike Mase. One deep breath after another finally calmed Zax sufficiently that he no longer risked falling even further down the Leaderboard due to hitting another cadet. Mase continued.

  “What’s got you so worked up? I hope it isn’t just my joke.”

  “No—it’s not just you. I was already pretty angry walking in here, and your little joke was the final straw. I woke up feeling pretty crappy, and then discovered how I managed to drop myself into second place on the Theta Leaderboard by lounging in bed and then taking too long and too hot of a shower.”

  The boy smiled. “I’m sorry for piling on to your bad mood. How about I make good on our trade to make it up to you?” Mase closed his eyes and focused on his Plug for a min. “Check your ranking now.”

  Zax closed his eyes. The sixty demerits he had been assessed since waking had been removed and he was at the top of the Theta Leaderboard once again! His eyes snapped open and his mouth hung wide in speechless shock. Finally he stammered some words out.

  “How…how…how…did you do that?”

  Mase’s grin got even wider. “We all have our hobbies. Yours is building flight simulators. Mine is manipulating different Ship systems. The Leaderboard is managed by a low level and weak AI. I was bored one night years ago and figured out how to hack the scoring system.”

  Zax was dumbfounded. “Do you mean to tell me that’s why you’re at the top of the Zeta Leaderboard—cheating?”

  Mase shook his head vehemently. “Absolutely not. I would be at the top of the Zeta Leaderboard regardless. My score is so absurdly high thanks to this little trick.”

  “Aren’t you worried someone is going to find out? They’ll put you out an airlock without blinking an eye when this gets discovered. Put my demerits back! I don’t want to be mixed up with this in any way!”

  “Relax, Zax, relax. I wouldn’t do anything that would put either of us at risk. There are strict rules I follow. You understand how all of the Ship’s AIs work, right? They all communicate with each other but are independent and discrete? That’s what makes this safe. The AI that runs the Leaderboard is one of the simplest systems. It takes inputs from members of the Crew authorized to apply credits and demerits. It also listens to various systems authorized to apply automated demerits.
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  “Let’s use the AI that monitors the showers as an example. That AI fires off a message to the Leaderboard telling it to deduct demerits when it sees someone violating the rules. The shower AI has been programmed to trust that the Leaderboard will do its job. When the shower AI receives confirmation the demerits have been applied, it forgets about the infraction. It doesn’t have any need to remember the information so it doesn’t. The Leaderboard is the only system that stores the data.”

  Mase stopped speaking and stared at him expectantly. The implications of what the boy described were clear to Zax.

  “So, what you’re telling me is that when you remove the Leaderboard’s record of automated demerits there isn’t any other record out there?”

  “That’s exactly right. I never touch scores from an officer or instructor punishing me. If they looked at the system later on, they might notice the missing demerits. There’s no other record for automated demerits. They cease to exist once they’ve been erased from the Leaderboard.”

  Zax fell silent. If he hadn’t seen the evidence with his own eyes, he never would have believed it possible. There was one more thing bothering him about all of it.

  “Why are you telling me this? Aren’t you worried I can get you tossed out an airlock?”

  Mase shook his head once again. “Nope. I was confident you were both smart enough and ambitious enough you’d want to take advantage of this. The look on your face when you saw yourself back on top confirmed that assumption. Besides—who’s going to believe you even if you did turn me in? You’ve already got a reputation for making up crazy stories. I can’t think of one crazier than a fourteen-year-old hacking into the Ship’s mighty AI.”

  Zax hated to admit the boy was right, but he was. Especially about that first part.

  23