by M. R. Forbes
"You said M warned him about the attempt on his life," Millie said.
"Maybe it was a cover-up? A ruse to gain my trust."
"Then why was the Tetron trying to capture him?"
"All part of the trick."
"To what end, Mitchell?" Origin said.
Mitchell paused. The Tetron wanted him dead. There was no reason for them to have used the Knife to set him up.
"Yeah, you're right. Do you really think it was a coincidence?"
"Data models would suggest a very low probability, but what is improbable is also not impossible. It may be that the Tetron have been scouring the Rim in search of Tio's home world. If they wanted to capture him on Liberty, it is reasonable to assume they are attempting to locate him off of it."
Mitchell couldn't argue with that. He brought the S-17 to a stop and opened the cockpit. "So we just happened to cross paths when we did?"
"The potential exists. More importantly, the Tetron now know we have been in this vicinity. They will seek to determine why, and then they will return with a larger force. It is best that we don't linger here for long."
"I agree," Millie said. "Let's circle around to Asimov. Mitch, can you get Tio ready?"
"Yes, ma'am," Mitchell replied, standing up. "Ares, out." He reached up and removed the helmet, placing it back in the seat of the fighter. Then he made his way from the hangar back towards berthing.
Tio wasn't there. Singh was. She was coming out of her bunk when Mitchell passed it.
"Colonel," she said. "We dropped early."
Mitchell paused. Didn't she know what had just happened? "We had a little run in with a Tetron."
"We did?"
"Are you okay, Corporal?"
"I'm fine, Colonel," she said, her voice flat. Her eyes looked glassy.
"I spoke to Major Long. He said you got Origin to produce some medications for you?"
She smiled. "Performance enhancers. They improve focus and reduce anxiety. A wonder drug for soldiers. It's still in limited field trials in the army."
"How do you know about it?"
"My ex-girlfriend was a chemist. I've told you that already."
"Who approved the production?" Mitchell asked.
"Admiral Narayan, sir."
That brought Mitchell's entire argument up short. He froze, the tension draining from him. "She did?"
"Yes, sir. She said we could use any edge we can get."
"Side effects?"
"Yes, sir. Increased libido, increased prevalence of blood clots and tendon rupture."
"That sounds painful."
"Only half of the time," she said, trying to make a joke.
Mitchell decided it wasn't worth wasting any more time on. "Have you seen Tio recently?"
"No, sir, but I heard he had gone down to visit Watson to discuss his work on signal jamming."
"Okay. I'll look for him there. Oh, and about the pills - how many of our soldiers has it been given to?"
"Not many. Major Long. Captain Alvarez. Millie wanted to monitor them for a few days first."
Mitchell still wasn't convinced it was a good idea. Members of Greylock had messed around with stuff that was supposed to improve combat performance. It had always worked out badly in the end.
Always.
Mitchell left Singh standing there, heading deeper into the belly of the Goliath in search of Watson and Tio. He wasn't sure he wanted the Knife giving Watson any tips on how to build anything at the moment. Origin and Millie might not have thought he was involved in the Tetron's presence here, but Mitchell wasn't convinced. He had seen how manipulative the Tetron could be, and he was certain all of the other rumors floating around about the Knife's trustworthiness didn't exist for nothing.
The Knife was leaning over Watson's back when Mitchell entered the engineer's workspace. They were both on the floor, crouched over a small, black box that bore a vague resemblance to the one he had attempted to install on Liberty. It had a pair of small whip antennae poking out of it, and a secondary power supply sitting off to the left. Tio was using a laser to point at a spot on one of the circuit boards, and saying something about quantum gates and electron spin.
"Tio," Mitchell said, interrupting him.
The Knife looked back at Mitchell, unsurprised to find him standing there.
"Colonel Williams," he said. "I am assisting Ensign Watson in the re-application of his signal blocking technology."
Unlike the Knife, Watson had shivered noticeably when Mitchell had spoken. He turned now, his face pale. "He's a genius, sir," Watson said.
"Do you have any idea of what just happened? Did you hear the klaxons?"
"Klaxons?" Tio replied. "No. Was there a problem?"
"I'm sure you felt us drop out of hyperspace."
"Yes. We're a few hours early, aren't we?"
"We are. There was a Tetron waiting on the far side of Asimov."
"What?" Tio said.
He sounded surprised, but Mitchell wasn't convinced. He was sure the man who hid in plain sight as a wealthy anti-AI lobbyist was a consummate actor. If the military had been able to hire enough talent to make Mitchell believable, he was sure Tio could have done the same, if not better.
"A Tetron. Outside of your secret hideout. We chased it away."
Tio didn't look happy. "It knows we're out here, then."
"Yes."
"Does Origin know how much time we have to evacuate Asimov?"
"No. A few days at least, I would guess." Mitchell kept his eyes locked on the Knife. He looked concerned. Deeply concerned.
Tio sighed. "I was hoping we had escaped their notice, at least for now. I was hoping we would have more time."
"Time for what?" Mitchell asked. "Is there a problem?"
Tio paused. He stepped away from Watson, approaching Mitchell. "It will take at least six days to compress and transfer the entirety of my data archives for transport."
"Six days? I don't know if we have that long. Why do you need it?"
Tio made a face like Mitchell had asked him a ridiculous question. "To determine the deeper correlation behind the Tetron Christine Arapo and Katherine Asher, for one. To find where the Federation has Pulin stashed away for another."
"You don't know where your brother is?"
"I know where he was. I don't know that he's still there. His work was sensitive in nature. Extremely sensitive. They would have moved him at the first sign of trouble."
"Not if the Tetron got there first."
"If they did, we may have worse problems."
"If he's the Creator."
"The Tetron think he is."
"He may not be."
"No. He may not be. I've been thinking about your dilemma, Colonel."
"What dilemma?"
"The fact that we cannot reach Earth ahead of the Tetron."
"I thought we had a solution to that?"
"You have an idea. I also have an idea."
"Which is?"
Tio smiled, a mischievous smile that looked out of place on his wrinkled face. "We can discuss it with the Admiral. Once we're on Asimov."
18
"There it is," Tio said. He pointed to a small corner of the asteroid where a dim green light was barely visible against the dark mass. "Take us down over there, Major."
Major Long didn't reply. Instead, he began angling the Valkyrie II towards the light.
"I can see why no one has figured out where you live," Mitchell said, looking down at the asteroid.
Asimov was larger than he had expected, the floating chunk of rock almost one hundred kilometers wide and nearly two hundred deep. It was long and narrow, similar to a starship, and covered in high crags and low ravines that gave it an almost cerebral appearance. It was dark, especially dark from where it hung, oddly and impossibly remaining in constant rhythm with the mass below it, always staying on the darker side, shrouded between the blackness of space and the blackness of the world below.
The reason it was so dark was bec
ause it was coated in a layer of what Tio called "cloaking paint." Every inch of it, making it even darker, and according to Tio invisible to sensors. Origin had confirmed that part, stating that the only reason they had found it was because they already knew it was there.
Of course, cloaking paint wouldn't work on starships, Tio had explained, because it clung well to rock and not at all to alloy.
"What about stone ships?" Cormac had asked. "We could call them rock stars."
It was good for a laugh, and nothing more. There was no way to hide the engines, and no way to disguise the tell-tale signs of thrust. It worked for stationary objects, which was all the Knife needed it for.
The Valkyrie II continued its drop, running smooth and silent with Major Long handling it expertly with the manual controls. The ship had been well-repaired, its innards almost up to spec for official service.
"Is that a comm tower?" Watson asked, gazing out one of the side viewports.
Mitchell hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary. He followed Watson's eyes to a spike of rock that rose higher than the others.
"Is is," Tio said. "The stone has been shaved there, thick enough to coat the outside of the antenna, thin enough to still receive."
"Receive from where?" Millie asked. "There's nothing else out here."
Tio laughed. "I can receive from anywhere, Admiral. Anywhere at all. That array is likely the most acute in the entire universe."
"Are you shittin' us?" Cormac asked.
"No. I have allies in strategic locations throughout the Federation and the Alliance, who pass constant streams of data on the back of regular communication signals, including military transmissions. That array is strong enough to catch the data. From there, it is stored to the archive to be indexed. Some of the data takes months to arrive. Some of it days. It depends on the source."
"That's a lot of data," Watson said.
"It is. That's why I said it will take at least six days to prepare it for travel."
"We might not have six days," Millie said.
"We must. I cannot stress the value of this data enough, Admiral."
"We'll do what we can, Tio. I'm not losing the rest of my army defending ones and zeroes."
The Knife didn't respond. The Valkyrie was closing in on the green light, which hadn't gained any intensity as they approached. It revealed a cutout in the rock that was large enough to allow entry to starships as big as a cruiser.
"It took three years to build this," Tio said proudly. "It will be lost if the Tetron find it."
"An unfortunate casualty of war," Millie said.
A long corridor of drilled stone brought them to an airlock, already open and waiting. Beyond was an internal space port the likes of which Mitchell had never seen. Two dozen starships were anchored to fixed joists six wide and six deep. They were designs he only vaguely recognized. Merchant trawlers mostly, though they had been augmented with weaponry that was out of place on their surface. Some looked old and ready to be junked, their hulls all corroded metal and faded paint. Others were relatively new and sleek. It was a motley collection to be sure, and less impressive than what he had been hoping for.
He glanced over at Millie. He could tell she was thinking the same thing.
"Remember, looks can be deceiving," Tio said.
"How come nobody has tried to communicate with us?" Long asked. "You just let anyone stroll into your rock without trying to stop them?"
"Quite the contrary, Major. My people have been tracking the Goliath since we came out of hyperspace. They know that I'm aboard, and they're under strict orders to remain in radio silence until I contact them. Failing that, they'll be waiting to board this ship the moment the docking clamps close."
"Board? As in, attack?" Cormac asked.
"If I don't send them the all clear, yes."
Mitchell felt his hand sliding absently towards his thigh, even though there was nothing there. He did have a small sidearm on his inner thigh in case of emergency, but it wasn't in easy reach.
"Are you going to send the all clear?" he asked.
Tio gave him another one of his mischievous smiles. "Am I?"
Cormac produced a gun from somewhere. He had it in the Knife's face before anyone could blink. "What game are you playing at?"
Tio wasn't impressed. "You need me, Colonel," he said. "You could say, more than I need you, but I can only live in this rock for so long, and if I don't help you there won't be anywhere left to go. So let's say we need each other. I have some demands."
"We aren't negotiating," Millie said. "Cormac-"
Mitchell stepped between Cormac and the Knife. "Hold on a second. If they're tracking him, they'll know if he gets dead. What do you think our chances are of making it out of here alive when that happens?"
Tio continued to smile. Millie growled and motioned for Cormac to lower the weapon.
"What kind of demands?" she asked.
"You can park over there," Tio said, pointing Major Long towards one of the empty slots. He returned his attention to Mitchell. "As I told you earlier, Colonel, I have an idea that may help you with your dilemma."
"What is he talking about, Mitch?" Millie said.
"And your idea of getting us to listen is to threaten to kill us?" Mitchell said.
"I don't like risk," the Knife replied. "I don't like to take chances. I can't wait for you to decide on the approach that I want."
"This isn't a great way to earn my trust."
"I recognize that. I think it should speak to the strength of my conviction."
"What's your idea?" Millie asked.
"Pulin," Tio said. "We need to find him before the Tetron do."
"How is that going to help us stop the Tetron from reaching Earth?" Mitchell said.
"I see two potential outcomes. First, Pulin is the Creator, and having access to his source code and his mind, we may be able to alter the Tetron. Disable them. Second, failing that, we know that they believe he is statistically probable as their Creator. If we have control over him, we may be able to convince them to retreat away from Earth in order to either stop us from using him, or to try to reach him for themselves."
"I thought you were averse to risk?" Major Long said. "That sounds as risky as it gets."
"Is it?" Tio asked. "As risky as taking your chances that the Tetron will leave Earth in one piece? Or that they'll take the bait when you throw more advanced starships at them?"
Long turned his head back towards them. "He has a point, sir."
"You didn't think we would hear you out on this?" Mitchell asked.
"I know you would hear me out. I didn't want you to have a choice. This is a demand, Admiral, not an option. We need to find Pulin, wherever the Federation has hidden him. We need to find him, and we need to capture him. Now, before the Tetron do."
"What if they already have?"
"That is the risk we must take."
"No," Millie said. "You may be taking us right into a trap. The Tetron may expect us to go after your brother. Meanwhile, we'll be staying further away from Earth, wasting our time chasing another single individual instead of building our resistance and getting closer to saving our people. Not to mention, we don't trust you. You could be a frigging Tetron yourself for all we know."
"I assure you, Admiral, I am not a Tetron. If I were, I could have killed you already."
"Not if you want Mitch, er, Colonel Williams alive," Cormac said. "This would be the way to do it."
"I have you alive now," Tio said. "You can't get out of here unless I allow it. I'm not keeping you prisoner, I'm trying to steer you to the path of least resistance."
"I think it's a good idea," Watson said.
Millie's jaw was tight, her face red with anger. "The fact remains that we already tried prioritizing one life over millions of others. You saw how that worked out."
"They tried to take me to get to Pulin. They were ignoring you, Colonel, because they wanted to get to me. What does that tell you about their prioriti
es? You may be able to destroy them. The Creator may be able to give them what they are truly after."
"We have no idea what they're after, other than destroying us."
"No, but I doubt the answer is that simple."
"Admiral," Major Long said, shouting above the argument. "I don't mean to interrupt, but we need to make a decision."
Mitchell looked through the front viewport. They were getting close to the dock. Long had slowed the ship as much as he dared to buy them time. It was still running out. He could see the soldiers assembled in the corridor leading to the clamps, a dozen or more in full heavy exo. They could tear the ship apart in a matter of seconds.
"Damn it," Millie said, her eyes burning. "You are a real son of a bitch."
"I'm a pragmatist, Admiral. My way is the right way, and I'm willing to put it all on the line to see it go that way."
"Maybe we can both be satisfied," Mitchell said, one eye still out the viewport. The dropship had reached the dock, and he felt the slight shift as the clamps pressed together to hold it in place. "You said it will take you a few days to locate Pulin."
"Most likely," Tio said.
Mitchell's mind was working fast, trying to put the pieces together. "The original plan was to go to Hell and see what we could scavenge there. So, we send a team there while you figure out where in the universe the Federation may have hidden Pulin. We can meet up back here."
"You won't make it there and back in that time," Tio said. The dropship shifted again as the airlock was brought in line with her hatch.
"So we'll meet somewhere else. You can't waste six days transferring the data either way. You said you needed it available to search."
Tio thought about it for a moment. "I need a portion of it. We can start the transfer while we index the rest. It will be close."
"I can help you," Watson said. "I bet your compression algorithms aren't optimized as well as they could be."
"It's a compromise," Millie said. "A fair one. One team to Hell, the other working on locating Pulin. You don't need a bunch of grunts sitting around and waiting, anyway."
A heavy pounding sounded at the outer hatch.
"Your people are waiting," Mitchell said. "What do you say?"
