by Jacob Holo
But some satellites no one touched. Some were so steeped in ghost stories and disappearances that no one set foot on them anymore. The stories ran from the understandable to the bizarre: haunted mining colonies from the First Space Age, over-mined asteroids with automated booby traps and treasure deep in their husks, or derelict ships with sentient computers that gene-ripped their original crews into immortal horrors.
The most famous example had to be the United States flagship President Reagan from the First Space Age. No one went in it (unless they were committing an elaborate form of suicide). No one landed on it. No one even flew near it. Some theorized the ship’s computer core was still active and locked in an extreme defensive response to the Chinese boarding action centuries ago. Perhaps it had used its automated repair functions to turn the interior into a death trap. No one wanted to find out and no one wanted to get rid of it in case its remaining nukes could still fire back.
Kaneda found the stories mildly amusing. It was almost enough to take his mind off Gregory’s death.
“Sir?” Viter asked.
“Yes?”
“I was wondering if you had any thoughts on who should replace Gregory?”
Alice rolled her eyes. “Can you give the man some time to grieve?
“I’m only being practical,” Viter said.
“It could be anyone,” Alice said. “Apparently the standards for being in our squad aren’t very high. Just look at you.”
Viter smiled. “You’d be miserable without me.”
“Every good boxer needs a punching bag,” Alice said.
“Save it for later, you two,” Kaneda said.
“Yes, sir,” Viter said.
Kaneda picked up his pad and opened his inbox. He checked off all the boring administrative entries he didn’t want to deal with and forwarded them to Alice.
Alice’s pad chimed fourteen times. She shook her head. “Thanks, Kaneda. Like I don’t have anything better to do.”
“I’m sure I can count on you.”
Kaneda sorted the messages by sender and opened the first to catch his eye.
“Admiral Piller sends his regards,” he said.
“What did he say?” Alice asked.
Kaneda skimmed the message. “He plans to use the dragon operations on Luna to put pressure on the admiralty board. He also compliments us on inserting claims of persona-intrusion in our message. The latest snap-poll shows quantum mind fears are mounting. There’s a lot of voter unease right now that he can use as leverage.”
“Do you think the Federacy is going to take our leash off and let us go after Europa?” Viter asked.
“No. There’s not enough pressure for that, but every bit helps.”
Kaneda scrolled down until another message caught his eye. It came from Mars. Or more precisely, it came from a Martian police cruiser heading for Earth. That was unusual. Crusaders rarely had dealings with Martian governments, partially because of how unstable and short lived they could be on the war torn planet. He decided to open it. Maybe it would help take his mind off Gregory.
source: Three-Part
destination: Crusader Support
forward: Kaneda Kusanagi
message delay: 6 seconds
title: FW> Urgent Request for HELP
Honorable Crusaders,
I humbly request your assistance in resolving a matter of GRAVE IMPORTANCE. I am in pursuit of a criminal who will reach Federacy space before I can apprehend him. The criminal is the captain of a quicksilver free trader. I have evidence the captain is willfully involved in program trafficking.
I fear if I turn to the proper Federacy authorities this criminal will escape into a sea of bureaucratic paralysis. Please find my cruiser’s nav beacon, flight path, and copies of my evidence in the attached files. I await your reply.
With respect,
Three-Part
Officer 3390
Mars Free People’s External Police
message ends
Kaneda didn’t know precisely why the message brightened his mood. Perhaps it was the nerve of the man (or woman, Kaneda was never certain with Martian names), bypassing proper channels and trying to get the job done.
Despite knowing nothing about this police officer, Kaneda already liked him (or her). He sent a query to the MFP External Police headquarters for a copy of this Three-Part’s service record, flagging it as High Priority with his diplomatic credentials. The SolarNet response came twelve minutes later, almost instantaneous given the communication lag between Earth and Mars.
Kaneda opened the record and browsed through it: Three-Part, age 32, male.
Well, that clears that up.
Three-Part’s record contained an interesting contrast. On one hand, it was stuffed full of commendations earned over seven years as a counter-terrorism operative (specializing in quicksilver terrorism). That ended with the death of his wife and child at the hands of quicksilver terrorists, followed by a long string of poor performance records and eventual reassignment within the External Police to import/export inspection.
Kaneda kept reading. He found evaluations listing alcohol abuse and suspected use of illegal narcotics. That took up about three years, then another shift. The substance abuse disappeared entirely. Performance scores went through the roof over the final two years, though tempered by notes of an “overzealous” attitude that was difficult to keep in line.
Kaneda set the pad down and looked up.
“That can’t be good,” Alice said. “I know that grin.”
A man who bends the rules to get the job done, who fell apart after a tremendous tragedy, but was able to conquer himself and become stronger. A man who is willing to chase a program trafficker all the way to Earth on the slim chance he might convince us to help.
Oh, yes. I like this guy.
Kaneda opened a link to the corvette’s pilot and forwarded the Martian’s nav beacon.
“Course change,” Kaneda said. “We’re not going to Penance just yet. Bring us alongside this free trader. Inform the captain he must submit to an inspection before being allowed into the Federacy commercial zone.”
“Yes, sir. Uh, plotting course change now. Would you like me to tell him what we’ll do if he doesn’t listen?”
“No need,” Kaneda said. “I’m sure our reputation precedes us.”
“What’s going on, sir?” Viter asked.
“We’re going to help someone in need,” Kaneda said, trying hard to suppress his grin. “A Martian no less.”
“Course laid in, sir,” the pilot said. “The free trader has acknowledged and affirmed our request for inspection. ETA is seventeen hours.”
“Just great,” Alice sighed. “I was looking forward to that hot shower too.”
* * *
Kaneda adjusted the pressure suit collar around his neck.
“Sir, I will say again that I think this is a bad idea,” Viter said.
“Noted,” Kaneda said, taking a pressure suit helmet off the airlock’s rack. He could see his own reflection in the gold visor.
“No gun,” Alice said. “No armor. Just a hacking glove they won’t detect. Did Kaneda show off like this when you first met him?”
“The first time we met I was in a crowd of about a hundred new recruits,” Viter said. “It was years before I got to speak to him. Unlike some people, I started at the bottom.”
“Now what is that supposed to mean?” Alice asked.
“We can’t all have our heads chopped off for promotions.”
Alice shook her head. “Why do I even bother talking to you?”
Kaneda locked his helmet in place and checked the seals. Everything showed green.
Alice and Viter stepped into the corvette’s hold.
“Good luck, sir,” Viter said. He pulled the door shut.
Kaneda triggered the airlock cycle, waited for the air to drain out, and ope
ned the outer hatch. The corvette hovered a few meters from the free trader’s rear airlock like a very deadly minnow next to a fat whale. Three-Part’s police cruiser floated just above them.
The free trader’s airlock led to its crew quarters, engines, and control systems at the rear of the long ship. Cargo canisters of varying shapes and colors were latched to a support skeleton projected ahead of the vessel. Flood lights from the corvette illuminated the giant vessel.
Kaneda clipped onto a zip cord connecting the two airlocks. He kicked off the corvette, rode the line and landed against the free trader feet first.
“Crusader, thank you for coming,” Three-Part said via radio. He stood on the other side of the airlock in black Exterior Police riot armor, an MP12 pistol holstered at his hip.
“Officer,” Kaneda said.
Three-Part had a strong, stocky look to him despite the light Martian gravity and skin so dark it made the whiteness of his teeth stand out. The shaven head added an air of no-nonsense to him.
Three-Part eyed the closing corvette airlock.
“Just you?” he asked.
“Just me.”
“I was expecting ...”
“Someone better armed?” Kaneda asked, unclipping from the zip cord. He stepped into the free trader’s airlock.
“Yes, to be honest,” Three-Part said, following him in. “How would you like to proceed? This is your jurisdiction, after all.”
“Sir,” Viter said on a private channel. “The police officer is using very weak encryption. The free trader’s crew could be listening in.”
“Noted,” Kaneda said. He switched back to Three-Part’s channel. “We’ll discuss the matter with the captain first.”
“As you wish, crusader. I’ll follow your lead.”
“Thank you, officer.”
They cycled out of the airlock. Kaneda switched the soles of his pressure suit to walking friction and oriented himself with ship-north. A crewman in a greasy jumpsuit festooned with tools waited in the airlock lounge to greet them. The jumpsuit exposed half of the man’s arms and legs. Every inch of his skin looked like polished silver except for his eyes. They were black from end to end. He clung to a beam across the floor with prehensile toes.
“What is your title?” Kaneda asked through his suit’s speaker. He knew better than to ask for a name.
“First engineer,” the quicksilver said.
“Where is your captain?”
The first engineer tilted his head to one side. Kaneda thought he was staring at Three-Part, but it was hard to tell with those eyes. The man never blinked once.
“The policeman has falsely accused us.”
“That remains to be seen,” Kaneda said. “Where is your captain?”
“In central control,” the first engineer said.
“Then why aren’t you taking me to him?” Kaneda asked.
The first engineer didn’t move.
“Is there something wrong with your hearing?” Kaneda asked.
“No,” the first engineer said. “This way.” He turned and pushed off.
“Damn quicksilvers,” Three-Part whispered over radio.
Kaneda followed the first engineer through the ship. This part of the free trader was almost all engine with minimal space afforded to her crew. The heavy droning of vast machines echoed through the cramped halls. The first engineer led them to a spherical room where every surface glowed with colorful diagrams. Kaneda switched on a translation cheat to help him decipher the bizarre language.
The captain and another quicksilver clung to a beam across the center. It reminded Kaneda of two birds sitting on a perch.
“I am the captain,” the older of the two men said. “This is the first navigator.”
The captain’s skin was cracked at the edges of his mouth and eyes, revealing gray, waxy flesh underneath. His metallic skin was noticeably darker than the other two quicksilvers. None of the men had any hair.
“All three of them are armed,” Viter said privately.
“Thank you, Viter. I suspected as much.”
“Sir, this is an unnecessary risk. Let me and Alice come aboard and do a proper search.”
“That will not be necessary,” Kaneda said. “Keep me informed.”
“What do you want?” the captain asked.
“You have been accused of program trafficking by the Exterior Police,” Kaneda said through his suit speaker.
“The policeman has no authority here.”
“No, but I do,” Kaneda said.
“We have committed no crime.”
“Then you have nothing to fear from me.”
“If you are here to inspect, then inspect. You won’t find anything illegal on my ship.”
“First I want to hear about your trade route,” Kaneda said. “Explain it to me.”
The captain sighed. “We normally visit Earth, Mars, Jupiter, and Mercury. Sometimes Saturn, if the distance isn’t too bad. Cometeers pay well and ask no questions. There is nothing unusual about our route.”
“And recently?”
“Earth to Jupiter to Mars and back,” the captain said. “Mercury is on the wrong side of the sun right now, and I am not rich. Fuel is expensive.”
“Understandable. What did you pick up at Earth?”
“Mostly food and other luxury items for Europa,” the captain said. “A few passengers who wanted to travel cheap. Also weapons for Mars. Weapons always sell well on Mars.”
Three-Part stared at the captain. His eyes narrowed.
“And from Jupiter?”
“Mostly diamoplastics and whatever wetware implants I can buy.”
“Those implants aren’t legal for export,” Kaneda said.
“Federacy companies still buy them.”
“Fair enough.” Kaneda turned to Three-Part.
“His description of the route is accurate,” Three-Part said. “However, he left out the illegal micromind he picked up on Mars.”
“The policeman is chasing the wrong people. We have committed no crime.”
“We’ll see,” Three-Part said.
“Sir,” Viter said privately. “I have limited access to the free trader’s network. There’s not much I can do with it except look. The critical systems are heavily hardwired to prevent soft intrusions. However, I did find a contradiction in the cargo manifest. It could be a simple record keeping error or it could be what the officer is looking for. Sending the location now.”
“Excellent work,” Kaneda said privately. He brought the location up on his visual overlay. “I will inspect the cargo next,” he said through his suit’s speaker.
“Very well,” the captain said. “If you like we can start in—”
“Section twelve block D,” Kaneda said.
“But that is where we store the wetware implants!” the captain said. “They are very sensitive!”
“You will be compensated for any damage,” Kaneda said. “Now take me to them.”
The captain exchanged glances with the navigator and the engineer. “Very well. Follow me.”
The captain led the way through the long central shaft that all the cargo modules branched from. Along the way, Kaneda checked Three-Part’s holstered pistol. He loaded an MP12 hacking routine into his glove.
Half a kilometer down the shaft, the captain floated through an offshoot and opened the large iris door at the end.
“Section twelve. Block D,” the captain said, gesturing inside.
Kaneda’s suit picked up a blast of cold air from inside the cargo block. A thin film of ice crystals covered every surface. Cylindrical canisters were stowed in tightly packed racks, their contents and labels obscured by frost.
“Show me sub-block D22,” Kaneda said.
“Why?” the captain asked.
“Do you have a problem with my request?”
“No, crusader,” the captain said. “No problem. You are being very specific in your requests. I only wonder why.”
“Call it a hunch,” Kane
da said. “Sub-block D22. Now.”
The captain glanced at the navigator and engineer.
Behind Kaneda’s back, the two quicksilvers reached for their weapons.
Kaneda snatched the pistol from Three-Part’s holster, engaged his glove’s hacking routine and spun so fast he blurred. He pointed the gun at the engineer’s head, paused a tenth of a second for the glove to break Three-Part’s passcode, and fired. The bullet struck the engineer directly between his eyes and fragmented in his skull. Bits of his brain were still flying towards the wall when Kaneda shot the navigator. Neither of them had time to touch their weapons.
Kaneda spun around and fired a third shot. The bullet struck a bulge at the hip of the captain’s jumpsuit. His ruined pistol flew wildly down the cargo shaft, clattering against the walls.
The captain screamed.
Three-Part’s brain finally caught up with events. He fumbled for his missing pistol.
Kaneda jammed the pistol’s barrel into the captain’s mouth.
“Now, captain,” Kaneda said. “Shall we have a look at your cargo?”
The captain breathed rapidly, eyes wide with terror.
Kaneda grabbed him by the shoulder and shoved him into the cargo block.
“Show me what I want to see!”
“I ... I ... I don’t ... I don’t ... You ... You killed ... You killed ...”
“Now! Before I decide to find it myself!”
The captain flinched away and rapidly nodded. He led them to the sub-block, then huddled against the opposite rack, crying as he curled into a fetal ball.
Kaneda looked at the rack of frozen wetware implants. He swung his arm across the center shelf, shattering every canister. With a few quick sweeps, he cleared the center shelf of debris and looked at the space hidden behind the rack.
“What do you see?” Three-Part asked.
“Take a look,” Kaneda said, stepping away.
Three-Part leaned in and shined his helmet light into the recesses. “Well, well. That is one big micromind. Looks like a mix of Euro and Martian hardware. Do you think it’s capable of autodesign?”
“That’s the normal intent,” Kaneda said. “Right, captain? Trying to design something that can design other things has always been the goal of scum like you.”
The captain shook his head. “I don’t ... I don’t know ... I don’t ...”
