Odin's Eye

by Kal Spriggs

  I didn't go through all this work for it to be wasted, Brian thought absently as he stepped out into the corridor.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Time: 0830 Local, 20 September 291 G.D.

  Location: Danzig, City of Neuhaven, Neu Emshaven System

  Doctor Axel Farber felt perturbed.

  For the past week, his algorithm had delivered him anomalous data on a daily basis. Each time a new courier ship arrived in the system, his system would highlight some bits of data that stood out. That was nothing new, normally he was able to clear them out, filter them as he refined the parameters to search for threats... yet these same bits continued to come up again and again. His algorithm knew that they were important, but it didn't know why.

  The first was the disappearance of a Senior Guard Intelligence Agent. Agent Scadden was the man who had put the initial contract out on Doctor Farber's project. The disappearance could have been any number of things, from Guard Intelligence removing him for failure, suicide, or even just a vacation under a pseudonym or cover. But Odin's Eye told him that it was a threat.

  The next was something that puzzled him. A common criminal had been killed in the Foster system. The death meant nothing to Doctor Farber, yet for some reason it stood out. The criminal had been killed, his body burned nearly past recognition. Elsewhere on the planet, another man, this one burned entirely past recognition, had been found in a garbage incinerator. The system had logged both murders as being important, but he couldn't see why.

  The third item was the destruction of a warehouse in the Ashe system, on the planet of Levant. The local police report said it was gang violence, some kind of weapon or drug deal gone bad, in which a major weapons dealer on the planet had been killed. Doctor Farber didn't see how it related. Organized crime was probably involved in both cases, but most crime rings were limited to star systems; the limits on communications gave the advantage to Guard Fleet in shutting larger organizations down, piece by piece.

  The last bit of data was a note from Guard Intelligence files, accessed and logged by Odin Interstellar,that a Guard Free Now terrorist cell had been destroyed in the Vagyr system. The exact details were vague, with a mention that three Guard Intelligence agents had been killed in the process, along with a civilian crew caught in the crossfire. It didn't match the official report, which listed an automated warship, triggered by an illegal salvage team, which Guard Fleet had destroyed, but that didn't bother Doctor Farber. Rarely, in his experience, did official media reports match what had actually occurred. The ability to disseminate the truth was the most important part of his project, to know truth from fiction, fact from lies.

  Yet he had no way to tie those four bits of information to form a greater truth. Those four data points didn't give him nearly enough to work with. Nothing, in fact, more than the knowledge that something was wrong, either with his algorithm, which was unthinkable, or with the data it could draw upon.

  Given his own near-infallibility, he knew that it wasn't a problem with his program. Since Doctor Farber knew he couldn't have made a mistake. He activated his internal communications, “Ferrer, I need greater access to Odin Interstellar's files.”

  “Doctor, you already have full access to all our files,” Ferrer's voice was a weak, pathetic thing. Perhaps if he had found flesh attractive, he might have enjoyed it, but instead it grated on his nerves. He liked the sound of his god-like voice as it spoke through the comm unit. He had selected that voice carefully to show his superiority and intellect, just as he had selected the one that broadcast through his vocal unit, when he deigned to deal with people directly.

  “That isn't enough,” Doctor Farber snapped. “I need access to planetary and system network files from the Foster system as well as the Ashe system. I'll also need data from Guard Intelligence's archives.” He hated to have to use even his electronic voice to communicate, yet Ferrer had blocked her neural computer from direct communications. She had even had the pretensions to claim that his data linkage to her computer had been disturbing.

  As if she could even comprehend the perfection of my thought processes, Doctor Farber thought. Yet the Chief Operations Officer had allowed her to continue to block him on all such further attempts at communication, so he had made do with what he could in such a limited form of communication.

  “Herr Doctor,” Ferrer said, “That would require a courier ship to be sent to both systems as well as an illegal data hack that could have immediate repercussions to the corporation.” There was some emotion to her voice, but he had long since replaced the portion of his brain that related empathy so he couldn't read the emotional cues to properly understand her tone. It didn't matter.

  “Fine, get it done,” Doctor Farber said. I cannot wait until my algorithm is able to be uploaded into my neural computer, he thought. He had already prepared an attack program to hijack control of Odin Interstellar's core servers. Given his access, he had examined their programming structure and noticed their greatest weaknesses lay not in their processing power, but in their sluggish nature. The software that ran them was incredibly robust and powerful, but it would be slow to react, a product of the limiting regulations designed to prevent accidental artificial intelligence.

  Once he had control of their core servers he could take over their internal security systems. He would use their automated defenses and robotic response units to drive the pathetic creatures out of the building. With the processing power from the core servers and his own intelligence to drive them, he knew he could take over the planetary network in only minutes and the system network in only an hour. From there, he knew that with Odin Interstellar's access to data he could be unstoppable.

  The people of the planet would be given a choice to serve him or leave, he didn't care. Any who resisted would be killed if they stood in the way of progress. They could not fight him effectively, since he would control all communications, all transportation, all data. He would be, in all senses, a god. Even warships would be vulnerable to him, since he would have access codes to their networks and their communications codes. He could hack their communications networks, scramble their orders, and even cause them to self-destruct or detonate their munitions remotely

  No-one and nothing would stand in his way.

  Time: 1500 Zulu, 20 September 291 G.D.

  Location: Near GT177, Greater Teuton System

  The gas giant, GT177 was cold and distant, the most remote place in the Greater Teuton system that Fenris could find to fill his hydrogen tanks to refuel.

  Even so, Mel felt painfully exposed as Fenris' fuel drone skimmed the gas giant's surface. Part of that fear came from the fact that the system had even more traffic than Ashe. Greater Teuton was a massive trade hub and she felt certain that sooner or later someone would notice Fenris out near the gas giant and come to investigate.

  She knew they didn't have a choice, though. All the systems in this part of the Parisian sector were either old settlements or were corporate or military property. In a crowded and busy system like Greater Teuton, there was enough traffic that a ship refueling wouldn't draw undue attention. On one of those other systems, the assumption would be that they were corporate or military spies and they would be challenged as soon as someone saw them.

  Fenris needed full fuel tanks for this operation. Especially in case anything went wrong with the plan... and Mel was well aware that many things could go wrong with her plan at this point.

  “How's it going?” a deep voice asked from behind her. She looked away from the bridge screen and saw that Tank stood in corridor.

  “Not bad,” Mel smiled, she waved to him, “Come on in, you are a part of the team.”

  He ducked his head and stepped onto the bridge, another reminder of his size. “Yeah, well, I've got to say, I'm nervous about all this stuff,” he waved at the bridge, “I never really understood how it worked.”

  Mel snorted at that, “It's not magic. It's not particularly complicated, once you know what you're doing.” She move
d over to the side console, “This is where I could take over control of Fenris' fuel collector drone.”

  “He's still fueling up?” Tank asked.

  “I am,” Fenris answered. “Though I'm nearly done. One more trip after this one.”

  Tank nodded and he looked at the ceiling, “Sorry, I should have asked you directly. I'm not really used to technology that talks back.” Mel was struck by how calmly he took it.

  “Think of me as a person who is tied into the ship,” Fenris said.

  “I'll try to do that,” Tank replied. He stood silent for a moment and Mel was struck by curiosity. Of their three new crew, she already knew what Claude had done to force him on the run and she could well guess what Aldera had done, yet she still didn't know why Woodard was on the run. She opened her mouth to ask him about what had brought him here.

  “Mel,” Fenris said, “I'm detecting some more anomalies in the port sensors.”

  “Again?” Mel asked. She moved to check and she found he was right. They'd already scanned with the other sensors, they knew the sensors weren't picking anything up... yet the diagnostics kept giving them odd results. “I'm seeing it, but I don't know what's going on.”

  “I'm also seeing power surges in the starboard power conduits,” Fenris growled. “Something is draining power, far more than a short, and too steady a draw. It is repeating again.”

  Mel grimaced, “I'm seeing some power going through our communications panel, too...”

  She bit back a curse as the communications console turned on, seemingly on its own. It started to go live and she hammered down on the kill switch.

  “Damn it,” she said, “I don't know what that was, but it could have blown this whole operation.” This wasn't the first time Fenris had detected issues and she felt an iron determination to find out the cause.

  But the only thing she could think of was sabotage.

  “What's going on?” Tank asked.

  Mel felt suddenly self-conscious. This wasn't something she and Fenris had shared with anyone, not even Bob. There were a couple reasons for that and she didn't really want to discuss it with him, not just now.

  I need to talk with Bob first, she thought. “Nothing for you to worry about,” Mel said quickly. His presence on the bridge might just be coincidence, but he might have been sent here to see their reactions... or come on his own to monitor his handiwork.

  Tank's eyebrows went up, “I've said it before, you're a bad liar.”

  Mel scowled at him, “Look, it doesn't concern you, okay?”

  “Yeah,” Tank nodded, “I understand. Well, when it does concern me, I'll be in my bunk.” She didn't miss the anger in his tone, or the way his back had gone up straight. She'd pissed him off, but she didn't see any way around it, not when he might be involved.

  “Fenris, call Bob up here, we need to talk with him.”

  ***

  “You're sure?” Bob asked with surprise as Mel finished talking.

  “Absolutely,” Mel said. Fenris had just finished up the last fuel run and she watched on the screen as his fuel drone came alongside. Soon they could leave this system... but she wasn't certain that was a good thing. Their next stop was the Neu Emshaven system and if her suspicions were correct...

  “I just can't believe it,” Bob said.

  “I saw it happen,” Mel snapped. “We had those odd power anomalies and then the communications console went live. I locked it down and Fenris is doing a full diagnostic, but if it is anything like the sensors, we won't find anything from the diagnostic.”

  Bob made a face. “That sounds more and more like sabotage.”

  “Yeah,” Mel said, “that's what I'm saying. Fenris has been feeling funny ever since the shipyard... what if someone slipped something aboard then?”

  “Feeling funny?” Bob asked, “I'm not sure I want to know what feels funny for a million ton warship.”

  “It is hard to describe,” Fenris growled. “As if something is out of place... or something is not quite right. I cannot pinpoint it. At first I thought it was some mix of the new systems and the repairs to the old ones, now I am not sure.”

  “So,” Bob said, “If it were sabotage, who? Someone at the shipyard, someone from the Mercenary Guild?” He shook his head, “It doesn't make sense, they sent us on this mission.”

  “Maybe they were infiltrated?” Mel asked. “Maybe Odin Interstellar had someone in place?”

  Bob shook his head, “If that was the case, they could have a fleet waiting for us when we arrived. That doesn't make sense. For that matter, why now?”

  Mel nodded as he mirrored her own thoughts, “What if one of our new crew isn't who they say they are... or they've got an agenda?” That was the only thing that really seemed to work. Someone wanted their mission to fail, someone who had the knowledge and resources to sabotage Fenris.

  Bob snorted at that, “They all have their own agendas...” He shook his head, “I don't know. Claude is a snake, no doubt about that, but I don't see any profit in this and he doesn't strike me as someone who could pull it off.”

  “What about Aldera?” Mel asked sharply.

  Bob gave her an odd look, “Aldera?” He shook his head, “I don't think so.”

  “She has the technical knowledge,” Mel said. “She's an engineer. If she wanted to blow this whole operation...”

  Bob shook his head, “No, that doesn't make sense. Trust me.”

  Mel's eyes narrowed. She hadn't missed how Bob and the woman had spent quite a bit of time together. What if she had seduced him to distract him from that possibility... maybe even turned him?

  “Fine,” Mel said. “Well, think about it.” She saw the indicator lights come up on the drone panel. “The fueler just finished docking. We're heading out.” She took a deep breath, “Just keep an eye on the others, okay?”

  “Of course,” Bob said. Yet she saw him glance at the communications console, almost as if he wanted to look at it himself. Did he not trust her? Mel felt suddenly uncertain... what if Bob was behind the sabotage... what if his organization had decided that they didn't want this mission to succeed? “I'll keep an eye peeled.”

  Was it too hard to imagine that his organization had ordered him to sabotage the mission? This would be the best way for him to do it, she knew. If Fenris couldn't pull off his part of their mission, they couldn't go through with it. At the same time, she had thought that she could trust him, that he was a friend, even. The musing look he gave at the communications console was one part concentration and one part thoughtful... almost as if he were considering the effect of what had happened and how it related to the mission.

  Mel had called him up because she was the only one on the ship besides Fenris that she trusted. Yet as he stepped off the bridge, Mel suddenly wondered if she could trust the spy at all.

  ***

  Jeremiah Swaim stepped into the lounge and froze as he saw Bob and Aldera holding pistols.

  “...just remember,” Bob said, “Don't jerk the trigger, squeeze it.” They both faced towards the opposite wall and some paper targets that Bob had taped up.

  “I know,” Aldera said. “I fired well enough at the warehouse, remember?”

  Bob lowered his pistol and adjusted Aldera's arm a bit and Swaim cocked his head as he watched. I got here just in time to see the good part, Swaim thought. “Just relax, a bit,” Bob said, “when you squeeze the trigger, it should come as a surprise.” Bob leaned in close to the woman and Swaim saw that they were very focused on the weapon training.

  “Hey, guys,” Swaim said, “can I get in on this? I don't have a pistol...”

  Bob and Aldera both spun quickly. “What?!” Bob asked suddenly, “This isn't what it looks like!” His voice climbed into almost a squeak.

  Swaim furrowed his brow, it wasn't a great impression, he knew, but it was as close as he could come to one of Brian Liu's frowns, “What is it? I thought you were doing impromptu weapon training...”

  Aldera gave Swaim a cold, preci
se nod, “Exactly. That is exactly what we were doing.” Bob broke into a coughing fit.

  “Cool!” Swaim said and started forward. “Like I said, I don't have a pistol anymore, Mel took the one I had, so if you guys could loan me one, I'd love to get some training.”

  Bob stared at him with an expression that was difficult to read. Swaim suddenly felt like he had back home, when he walked in on his mother and one of her boy-toys. Nah, he thought, it's not like they were doing anything, I mean, Aldera probably has an ice cube where her heart should be and Bob is too pudgy and short to get with a girl like her anyway.

  “We were just finishing up,” Bob said after what seemed like a very long pause.

  “Oh,” Swaim gave a sigh. “Could I link up with you guys next time you do this?”

  Aldera coughed. Swaim looked over at her, but she had the same icy expression as he normally saw. Maybe it was something in the air, Swaim thought.

  “I don't know that we'll do this again,” Bob said after a moment.

  Aldera gave a nod. “I had heard that Mister Woodard was going to do some weapons training, perhaps you should ask him?”

  “Oh, sure,” Swaim nodded. He couldn't help a sinking feeling though. He didn't know what he had done wrong, but apparently they didn't want him around. “Well, I'll just get back to programming. You guys are welcome to join me.”

  “No...” Bob said with a look at Aldera, “I think I've got to, uh...”

  “He was going to help me calibrate the communications array,” Aldera said. “It will probably take several hours, but I need another set of hands to ensure that the antenna is properly calibrated and adjusted to perfection.”

  Swaim didn't want any part of work that sounded so tedious. He nodded sagely, “Okay, yeah, that sounds important. See you guys later!”

  Time: 1920 Local, 20 September 291 G.D.