Transformation Protocol

by David M. Kelly

  I controlled my breathing and croaked to Logan, "So we're basically guinea pigs?"

  "The phrase you're looking for is talented pioneers."

  The AstroFreighter was a single-stage-to-orbit ship despite its size, and there was none of the discontinuity from booster separation or other finessing. It was a display of brute strength lifting that made you feel like you were riding Mjolnir to the stars.

  The acceleration decreased, and I breathed easier. "How do we know the CASTOR system will work with the Shokasta?"

  "We don't, but dozens of people have been working hard for several months to make it happen."

  "Let's hope they did their homework."

  *

  Once we achieved Low Earth Orbit we had the tricky business of maneuvering to meet the High-Rig, but the flight computer took care of the details, leaving Logan and me to speculate on the Atoll research station and our missing ship.

  "I know the captain of the Sacagawea." He ran his fingers through his hair. "Leonard Begay. He's Anishinàbe. When great-grandfather moved east after the Big Shake, Begay's people helped ours to settle. They made room for us on their land. We're like family, and family sticks together."

  I'd visited the ranch and knew there were other people there, but I hadn't realized the connection. "You must be close."

  "Leonard is like a brother to me. When he joined MilSec, everybody came out to give him a good send off." He paused. "He had a fire in him, a spirit that couldn't be quenched. We knew he was destined for great things."

  Captaining a USP interstellar cruiser certainly qualified as great things. "His family must be very proud."

  "He made us all proud." Logan's voice was like a rasp working a steel block.

  His emotion seemed to fill the small control room, and for several minutes I wrestled with the feeling that I should say something but not knowing what.

  "Do you think the loss of Wright Station and the Sacagawea being overdue is connected?"

  Logan didn't answer immediately and then took a breath. "I don't see how that's possible. But everything about deep space is new to us. Leo knew the risks. Any problem that comes along leaves you a long way from help and all too close to death. Even a routine malfunction can kill you at that distance—and nothing ever works one hundred percent."

  I didn't believe in luck, good or bad, but sometimes even the most thorough planning isn't enough. As the ache from my arm and legs reminded me all too often.

  "Where was the Sacagawea?"

  Logan shrugged. "Hard to say for sure, but they were a long way from Wright Station and Wolf 1061. If they followed their planned route, they'd have been over twenty light-years away. It's hard to see a connection."

  "Not a natural one perhaps."

  "You think there's more behind it?" Logan's eyebrow lifted. "Something antagonistic?"

  "It seems unlikely, I know. But it would be a hell of a coincidence if two of Earth's exo-missions independently developed problems at almost the same time."

  "A common technology problem?" Logan pulled a 3V screen in front of him, bringing up the USP tech archives. "The Jump is still very new."

  "That might affect the ship. But the station wasn't equipped with a Jump drive was it?"

  Logan looked up engineering reports on the ship and station then waved them on to the main screen. The comparator highlighted the common systems almost immediately.

  "The life support and solar generators are well-proven," I said. "The only thing I can see on that list that looks relatively untested is the Casimir generators."

  The Casimir system generated power from the constant seething mass of quantum foam produced by virtual particles springing into life and then vanishing again. In a sense, it was energy from nothing, though in truth it was only borrowed temporarily until the quantum flux took it away again. But we could harness it in the microscopic amount of time it was there. Each individual fluctuation was almost nothing, but as it happened everywhere and constantly, the generators could focus that to produce effectively limitless usable power.

  The system was somewhat exotic, but there were no moving parts, and even the constraining field that condensed and focused the quantum foam wasn't critical. If the field collapsed, the virtual particles would dissipate and go about their business, popping in and out of existence harmlessly. Despite the energy levels involved, it wouldn't explode and would be snuffed out like a match.

  Logan pointed to one of the subsystem lists for the Wright Atoll. "Why did they arm a research station?"

  "You don't know?"

  "What can I say? I'm a small cog in the SecOps machine. I have as much idea as you on the mindset of the Atolls."

  The weapons system on the base was minimal—a missile system backed by point defense railguns and lasers. I wasn't familiar with the military codes, but it sounded like a relatively small package with a big punch.

  "Could be precautionary. You of all people know how paranoid security types can be."

  "That's true," Logan mused. "But it looks out of place."

  A proximity alarm sounded, and the lights in the control room flashed several times. We were at the point of entry to the High-Rig's traffic control field, and they wanted to take control of the AstroFreighter's controls to bring us in.

  I checked we'd been assigned a large enough docking berth then released the maneuvering system to their control. A few minutes later, a docking tube clanked against us, and my ears popped as the air pressure between the ship and station equalized. As we swam into the tube, Logan operated his wrist interface, and the airlock was open when we got there.

  "The Remotes are moving equipment over to bay 17E," Logan said. "You need to get up to speed on the modifications. We're scheduled to leave in twenty-four hours."

  The timeline would have been insane if it weren't for the Remotes that could do much of the heavy work. With their assistance, it might be possible, as long as we hit no snags. But when did that ever happen?

  I headed to the Shokasta while Logan disappeared to "make some calls." I hoped they didn't involve any changes to our schedule—we'd be pushing things to leave on time as it was. The ship's airlock opened when I pressed my palm against the lock, and I entered the familiar interior.

  It was as brightly lit as I remembered, with color-coded guidelines on the floor directing people to various specialized areas. It seemed superfluous considering there were only two corridors, with all the rooms arranged in the central spine.

  I found our cabin the way it was when I'd last been here, though the thought of it being mine alone made my stomach tingle, and I swallowed hard. I settled at the large desk display and opened the files on the planned conversion.

  The plans were detailed and, for once, had been well thought-out. The new CASTOR system was designed as a drop-in replacement for the original energy collectors and made use of waste energy to superheat liquid fed to it. This came from a series of new tanks to be fitted around the exterior. They added to the ship's bulk, but the clever design maintained the sleek profile of the hull, enabling easy passage through the space-time fissure during the Jump.

  The tanks weren't especially clever and neither was the plumbing. The real genius was in the design, and I was rather envious of whoever had come up with it. Somebody outside of the typical workmanlike government engineer bureaucrats—that was certain.

  "Nice to see someone around here is earning their paycheck," I said to myself.

  The CASTOR system effectively added a turbo-boost to the Casimir drive. Although the regular drive was a fantastic achievement, it operated at relatively low thrusts. Certainly, that thrust could be maintained almost indefinitely if necessary, but the acceleration wasn't high enough for tactical maneuvering, and that was what the new system was supposed to provide.

  The modifications would theoretically enable the ship to make high accelerations of up to twenty-g, though in human terms it was limited to around eight for short durations. And at that level, the tanks gave the ship aroun
d twenty minutes of boost. More impressively, the boost could be stepped up and down to whatever level was needed and replenished anywhere water or ice was available by making use of an extension unit that could plug into regular resupply ports, making it perfect for deep-space operations.

  I switched over to the maintenance monitoring display and checked progress. The Remotes were attaching the extra tanks and had moved the CASTOR units to a position floating off the starboard hull. Removal of the existing collectors and installation of the new units were too complicated for the Remote Units, and a team of piloted Hoppers was flocking into place to work on the upgrade. I may have been in charge, but no one had been waiting for me to take over.

  It was time I got involved, though. So far, I was feeling more like a spare wrench in the tool chest than a part of the operation. I headed to the main airlock and grabbed my suit, ready to join in the fun. The size of the team at work reinforced the importance the USP was placing on the mission.

  Seven exhausting hours later, we'd pulled out the standard collectors and tethered them to the High-Rig bulkhead for safety. Now the CASTOR units were being nudged into place by the Hopper crews, but my stomach was complaining about a lack of input, so I headed to the airlock. As I entered, someone followed me in.

  I read the tag on their suit, but I didn't recognize the name Maliska. The guy was slightly built rather than the usual assembly crew heavyweight. I nodded, hit the cycle button, and the pressure built.

  Maliska unlocked his helmet, the fogged visor impenetrable.

  "Hello, Joe. I hear you're lonely these days, and we have some unfinished business."

  It was Gabriella.

  Chapter Four

  "Are you part of this operation?" I doubted it given Logan's involvement.

  She'd reverted back to her shaved head, but her full lips were still as inviting and no doubt as deadly as ever. She blew me a kiss before answering. "Not in the least."

  "Then you better not let him catch you here."

  "I'm not afraid of that old man." She put her hands behind her back and pouted. "Besides, you'd protect me, wouldn't you, Joe?"

  Logan had a scar running the length of his torso from their first encounter. I doubted I could stop him even if I had a mind to—which I didn't. "This is a secure operation. If you're not authorized, you need to leave. I should report you just for being here."

  "Since when did Joe Ballen become a Regulation Charlie? I'm sure you could get me added to the mission, if you wanted." Other than her helmet, she hadn't taken off any more of her suit, but she sidled close enough that I could smell her perfume. "You know how... useful I can be."

  "I don't want anything to do with you—dead or alive." I moved my hand over the airlock controls. "You've got two minutes to put your helmet on."

  "Don't send me away, Joe."

  There was something in her voice I couldn't identify. Something I hadn't heard from her before, almost as though she were pleading. I unfastened my p-suit and squirmed out of it. "Why are you here?"

  Gabriella bit her lip. "Would you believe me if I said I was looking for work?"

  "I wouldn't believe you if you told me the sun was hot."

  She slipped out of her suit too, revealing a black skin-tight bodysuit. I was dressed similarly—you needed something inside a p-suit to protect your skin and wick away moisture—but where mine fit me like a pair of old work gloves, hers showed every line and curve and looked almost sprayed on.

  I'd had enough of this. I needed to replenish some calories and headed for the wardroom, not caring if she followed or not. If she got annoyed and left, I wasn't going to lose sleep over it. Unluckily, she trailed me all the way.

  I grabbed an energy bar and heated a tube of coffee, angrily sucking in a large mouthful and burning my mouth. "What do you want?"

  "Too hot for you?" She smirked, then it faded again. "A coffee would be nice."

  "That's not what I mean." I was standing by the heating unit and moved out of the way so she could help herself.

  Gabriella tutted. "You used to be much more gallant than this, Joe."

  "Sorry. Someone trying to murder me multiple times always leaves me grouchy. Can't think why."

  She heated a coffee. "I heard you're a free-agent again."

  "My marital status is no business of yours." I took another cautious sip of my drink, followed by a bite on the chewy bar. "Why don't we stop dancing around and get to the point?"

  Gabriella moved over and took my hand, then pressed it against her chest. "I couldn't agree more."

  Her heartbeat sent tingles through my fingertips, and I snatched my hand away. "I'm not in the market for that."

  "But I am." She flashed her angelic smile. "You like me, Joe—always have. You just don't want to admit I'm the perfect woman for you."

  "Psychotic and murderous isn't my style."

  "No?" She reached down and grabbed me. "What's this then? Or did marriage to Dollie turn you into a eunuch?"

  I pushed her away. Certainly, she could trigger my male response, but it was a primitive sexual urge, not something I could always control. I'd rather carry an aggravated cobra around in my shorts than get involved with her.

  "Don't you have someone to torture or kill? Or did you find yourself unexpectedly short of potential corpses?"

  Gabrielle pulled back, and for a moment her face seemed to cloud over. "Sorry, Joe. I just thought that... maybe... That is, do you think that there could ever be hope for something between you and me?"

  She sounded so sincere for a moment that I almost believed she wasn't playing her usual head games. Then I mentally slapped myself in the face. "Sure. About the same time we learn how to time-travel."

  Gabriella grimaced. "Do you ever wish you could go back and change things?"

  Only about every minute of every day since Dollie had left me. "No. I always have a total ball living in the now."

  "You're a bad liar. There are things I wish I hadn't done. Or done differently." She looked away. "Especially with you."

  "What were you saying about lying?"

  Gabriella pulled herself upright. "I really am looking for work."

  "I don't have anyone on my hit list right now. Besides, I couldn't pay you even if I did."

  "Payment doesn't have to be in money." She winked. The old Gabriella seemed to be back.

  "I don't imagine you have problems finding work. With the way the world is, there can't be any shortage of people looking for your... skills."

  A trace of sadness flickered across her face. "I've got a contract on the table."

  I shook my head. "So this was bullshit after all?"

  She hesitated. "I don't want the job I've been offered. I thought perhaps you..."

  I finished the bar and washed it down with the last of my coffee, pushing both in the garbage chute. "I don't operate in those circles. Thank bog."

  "You could use me for personal protection on your mission."

  I laughed. "You don't know what my mission is."

  "You're going to look for the Sacagawea."

  I stopped. As far as I knew, the information about our operation was secret—Gabriella shouldn't have known about it. I suppose she had to have contacts in order to keep operating the way she did, but it shook me to be faced by the fact that our mission wasn't so covert after all. "If you know that, then you also know I don't need a babysitter."

  She smirked at me, putting on a fake coyness. "I have the costume..."

  "I don't need that kind either."

  Her bravado seemed to falter again. "I know we haven't always seen eye to eye. But it's not been all bad. I helped out on your last trip, remember?"

  "Sure... right up until you tried to blow up the ship and everyone in it."

  Gabriella glared at me hard enough I could almost feel the blades hitting me. "Look, you're a nice guy, Joe. Aren't I worth a second chance? You could use your contacts... put in a good word for me perhaps. And who knows, if we're around each other, you might ge
t to like me. That wouldn't be too hard, would it?"

  I laughed. Not because what she'd said was particularly funny, but because she'd already used up more chances than Bastet, the ancient Egyptian cat goddess. "I have to give it to you—you're good. Really good. The way you put that slight tremor in your voice. And how you drop your chin just so to look vulnerable. I guess I'm supposed to get all chivalrous here and take you into my arms to protect you?"

  She stiffened, and for a moment I thought she was going to slap me. She'd done it before more than once, and I wasn't about to let it happen again. But then that sad expression reappeared. "I should have expected that."

  I checked the time. "Why don't you leave? Before Logan gets here. Because then you really would have a bad day."

  Gabriella's perfect eyebrows furrowed slightly. "You need me, Joe. More than you think."

  "I don't need anybody."

  "Keep telling yourself that. Maybe one day you'll believe it."

  "You've got one minute. Then I'll carry you to the airlock."

  "I came here to help." She sighed. "To warn you."

  "I don't need a warning to stay away from you."

  She nodded and turned to leave, and I followed her toward the airlock to keep an eye on her.

  "This mission isn't what you think." Gabriella wriggled back into her p-suit. "You don't know what's going on here."

  "So, why don't you tell me?"

  She wrinkled her nose. "You know me. I don't share secrets."

  "Unless you're well-paid."

  Gabriella's dark eyes narrowed into harsh slits and she pulled her helmet down, twisting to lock it into place. I could still hear her, though. "Time I was leaving."

  "What's the job you're trying to get out of?"

  "See? You do care, after all. It's nothing." She smiled through her visor. "Working on some... transformation protocols."

  "What does that mean?"

  "Bye, Joe. Miss me." She raised her glove and blew me another kiss.