by Lj Cohen
"I'm going to trigger a multi-band, multi-directional pulse. Then we're going to listen for an answer. Even with you distracting the computer, it's a risk." She looked back at Jem. "But it's the only option we have. It's not like someone is going to just stumble across us out here."
If they were somewhere off the main jump paths, that would never happen. "I vote yes."
Micah snorted. "Not sure Ro cares what we think, but for what it's worth, I'm with you."
"Just so you know," Barre said. "I'm not even sure how I connected before. All I wanted was to turn down the lights."
"Well, you're going to have to do a little more than that," Ro said. "What other kind of commands can you send through your neural?"
"Pretty much anything you can do with the heads-up, I guess." Her attention and focus made him squirm. "It's just simpler for me to think in music, so I started by programming a bunch of macros using rhythms and notes instead of gestures or words. It scaled up from there."
She was staring at him, open mouthed. "When we get back to Daedalus, I want you to show me, okay?"
"Yeah, whatever." It didn't seem that radical to him and he doubted she would be able to use it, not unless she had perfect pitch and rhythm. "I guess I could just send a ton of commands, all at once."
"Then we risk flooding the AI. No telling what it would do." Ro pursed her lips and dragged her hands through her hair. It fell in smooth waves around her face. "Wait. If I give you a program, can you translate and transmit it?"
Barre scratched at the stubble of his beard. "What kind of program?"
"Something that would occupy the computer without sending it into threat mode." Ro tapped on her micro in a staccato beat. "Let me see what I have already written."
"Sensor calibration," Micah said. "It's routine enough and uses up lots of processor cycles."
"That should work." Ro tapped some more before holding up her micro for Barre to see. "If you can parse these commands in music-speak, or whatever it is you do, the computer should let me sneak out my comm pulse."
Barre scanned the code. He might not be any sort of programming savant like his brother, but he knew the basics. This seemed pretty standard.
"Here." Ro handed him his micro. "I'll just need it back before we execute."
He shook his head. "This is what I do. It's all in here," he said, tapping his forehead.
Ro raised her eyebrows. "Okay."
Unspoken was the skepticism. No surprise there and he didn't bother explaining. It was easier to just show them. Accessing his neural, he set its small internal memory to record and started translating Ro's code into a melody.
It was a strange music, full of wandering notes and short, choppy lines. But it was meant for one listener only and as far as Barre knew, AIs weren't programmed for art appreciation. He captured the "song" and turned off the recording before focusing back on the bridge where Ro and Micah stood watching him. "Ready."
"That's it? Don't you need to error check it or something?" Micah said.
"No."
"Good," Ro said. "I'm ready, too. On my mark." She set her micro down, completing a lopsided circle on the floor with the other three and the two drones. Crouching down, she let her hand just hover over her micro. "Three."
Barre set the music to trigger with a nod.
"Two."
He lifted his chin and held his breath. The timing had to be perfect.
"One."
Ro locked her gaze on his face.
"Go!"
Barre dropped his chin and let the odd song flood through his neural, broadcasting out toward the ship. Ro's hand swiped across her screen and she sat back, waiting.
Micah hooked his arm around a stanchion. Music swirling through his mind, Barre glanced around the bridge looking for a place to brace against, just in case.
Chapter 24
Nomi stood waiting outside Mendez's office, her energy and her attention still back in the communications room. The staff couldn't work any faster whether she was there or not, but it didn't make her feel any better about being called to command again. Her right foot tapped against the hard floor. When Mendez's assistant glanced up at her, frowning, Nomi forced her body to be still. She looked down at her micro for the hundredth time in about ten minutes.
"You may join the meeting, now," the guard said, her blank expression and stiff posture giving nothing away.
Mendez's door opened and Nomi stepped through into a chaos of raised voices. Halting just inside the doorway, she did a quick headcount before anyone noticed her. Senator Corwin Rotherwood loomed over the commander's desk, his finger pointing at Mendez, his face flushed a deep crimson. The Doctors Durbin — Kristoff and Leta — sat against the right hand wall, rigid, leaning forward, their chairs close enough to touch, though their bodies didn't. Alain Maldonado leaned against the far left wall, his face half turned from Mendez, his arms folded across his chest.
Rotherwood's shout drowned out the commander's reply and Leta Durbin's clipped outrage.
"Find that ship, Mendez!"
The commander folded her hands across her chest. The muscles in her jaw bunched and released. "Sit down, Senator."
Maldonado swiveled his head around to Nomi, his expression blank. She stepped away from him, her back hitting the closed door behind her.
Spinning on his heel, Rotherwood turned and confronted her in three strides. "Where is that ship?" He stood so close she could count the beads of sweat collecting on his upper lip. "Where is my son?"
Leta Durbin shifted her disapproval Rotherwood's way before turning to Nomi. "I have a son on that ship, too, Senator."
"Sons," Kristoff Durbin corrected, before leaning back in his chair, his face stiff and unreadable.
Both of them? That made four on board, somewhere, anywhere in the universe. Nomi didn't remember the Durbins' kids' names, but she'd seen them around the station in the few weeks she'd been posted there. What were they doing working with Ro?
"Please tell us what you have discovered, Ensign," Mendez said, her steady voice betraying none of the tension so plain in the cords at her neck and the tightness in her shoulders.
Five sets of eyes turned to her and Nomi cleared her throat before standing at attention. "Sir, the array is back on line. We are performing a partial, emergency calibration in order to send out a series of interrupted ansible carrier waves. If they're able to listen, they'll hear us and respond."
The chorus of outrage started again.
"Is that the best you can do? You have ships and pilots. Where's the rescue mission? Rotherwood thundered at her, his pointing finger millimeters from her chest. Nomi held her ground. Surely Mendez wouldn't allow him to assault her. And if he so much as tried, Nomi would happily break his hand.
"We expect a full investigation and an accounting of your security failings. This should not have happened, Commander," Leta Durbin said, her sharp voice cutting through Rotherwood's resonant and well-practiced anger.
"Barre has just recovered from a serious illness. He needs to be evaluated, given these new circumstances. His life is in your hands." Kristoff Durbin spoke quietly.
The only person silent in the room was Maldonado. Nomi studied him, looking for Ro's features in the closed, suspicious face. They shared those odd, changeable eyes, hazel, brown, or green depending on the way the light hit them. His hair was a few millimeters of blond fuzz cut close to his scalp. Unlike her father's harsh features, Ro had a delicate cast to her nose, a slight upturn of her eyes, thinner lips, but Nomi would recognize the same challenge in the Maldonado stance anywhere.
Mendez ignored them all, focusing only on Nomi. "When will you be ready to send out your signal?" The commander rubbed her bloodshot eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose as the senator and the Durbins finally fell silent.
Nomi lifted her micro. "If you'll allow me?"
"By all means," Mendez said.
She linked with her comms console and checked on the progress of her team. They had ansible
coverage through about ten percent of the network and widely distributed. They would keep working at pulling more satellites online, but given the urgency, Nomi needed to start transmitting now. "This isn't a perfect solution, Commander, but it's the best we can do in the time window."
"Understood."
"You understand once we start making noise, it will effectively drown out any other ansible traffic."
"Proceed, Ensign," Mendez said, her expression hard.
The senator glared down at her. "That ship is your number one priority. Find it."
Mendez ignored him. Nomi decided she would do the same. She checked the transmission protocol one more time before sending the pulsed signal out in a repeating loop in all directions. If Ro were listening, she would hear it. Best case scenario, she'd be able to track the signal back to its source. More likely, she'd at least be able to latch onto the nearest ansible and orient from there. Nomi wouldn't let herself think of the worst case.
"How long before we know where they are?" Kristoff Durbin asked. His voice, if not gentle, at least didn't accuse her of anything.
She met his gaze. "There is no way of knowing, Dr. Durbin. All we can do is to keep transmitting and wait for them to find us."
"If Ro wants to find you," Alain Maldonado said. "She has a ship. She could be anywhere by now."
Nomi frowned and turned away from him. Of course Ro wanted to find her way back.
"Maldonado, Nakamura, get back to your stations. Everyone else, return to your quarters."
"Mendez, we will not let you sideline us. Our children are at risk." Senator Rotherwood glanced at the Durbins, suddenly seeking to be their ally.
Leta Durbin gestured to her husband. He nodded and stood. From the side, her angular cheekbones looked sculpted from dark marble. "We will be in the infirmary, if you need us," she said, ignoring Rotherwood. They left without looking back.
The senator stomped from the commander's office.
Nomi turned to leave. Maldonado brushed past, pushing her against the door frame. She glared at him, rubbing her shoulder.
"Keep me informed," Mendez said.
"Sir." Nomi strode from the office, her boots clicking against the floor. The signal was broadcasting. There wasn't much more she could do in the comm center, but she didn't want to be alone in her quarters either. Her stomach growled and Nomi realized she hadn't eaten since before her normal shift began, nearly twelve hours ago.
She turned left from command toward the commissary. The hallways were still as empty as they were at the start of her graveyard shift. She hoped the commissary was considered essential.
Angry voices drifted down the corridor and Nomi froze.
"This is your fault," Senator Rotherwood said.
"I did what you told me to do," Maldonado answered.
Nomi pressed back against the corridor.
"Do you have any idea what's going to happen when my associates find out the ship is gone?"
"They can't have gone far. All they have is interstitial drive."
"For your daughter's sake, you'd better hope we find them first."
Cold slithered though her and settled in the pit of her stomach. She retreated back down the corridor, no longer hungry anymore.
Chapter 25
Ro sat cross-legged on the floor, leaning against the command console. At least with bunk padding now spread out on the floor, it was a little more comfortable. Micah had argued to relocate to the lab because of the access to water, but Barre refused to let his brother be moved. As much as she would have liked more room to work, Ro had to agree with him.
No one said anything about it, but they kept looking to her to make the final decisions. She hadn't expected to feel so uncomfortable about anything in her life. It gave her a pang of sympathy for Mendez.
"Anything?" Micah asked.
"Not yet." Ro had to alternate between transmitting and listening, the ship's primitive ansible unable to achieve full duplex. "Barre?"
"All quiet."
He seemed to have gotten the computer's higher cognitive functions to stay asleep. She remembered a holo reproduction of an image from old India of a snake charmer. Barre was her AI charmer.
So far, so good. Everything had been set to automatic, with a link back through her micro if anyone responded to their signal.
Micah yawned and apologized. Now that the adrenaline rush had worn off, Ro realized just how exhausted she was, too.
"We need to get some rest. This could be a long haul."
"We should set a watch rotation," Micah said.
He was right. And she should be the one to take the first watch. "Three hour shifts?"
Barre and Micah nodded. "One, two, three." She pointed at herself, then Barre, then Micah.
Micah stretched out on a pad across the room. "I don't suppose you can tickle the AI to turn the lights down?"
"And would you like room service and a wake-up call with that?" Ro asked.
"What, no chocolates on my pillow?" Barre asked.
The three of them burst out laughing, a sound as much terror as amusement. When they wound down, all three out of breath, they shared a wry smile. "Sweet dreams," Ro said. Micah closed his eyes without another word. Barre glanced at Jem and slid his sleeping pad closer to his brother. "I'll wake you if anything changes," she said.
"I'd feel a lot more comfortable if he was back on Daedalus."
Ro sighed. "I know."
Silence rang the room, interrupted by the soft rhythm of their breathing. Ro had never shared a room with anyone before. It was both comforting and disconcerting to realize she wasn't alone. She yawned and scrubbed at her eyes. It still hurt to put weight on her ankle, but she needed to stay awake, so she stood, leaning on the console to take some stress off it.
Hobbling over to her makeshift network, Ro carefully lifted her micro to eye level, making sure it didn't lose connectivity with the other pieces of the ad-hoc. Toggling split screen mode, she watched the ansible signals transmit and recede. It was as hypnotic as the rhythmic in-and-out breath of her companions, or the cycling of a tide. Her head bobbed sharply and she startled herself back to full wakefulness.
"Crap." Ro eyed the pile of supplies Micah had brought from the hold. Tubes of battlefield-boost lay beside the food bars. One of those would keep a corpse awake. She wasn't sure it was worth paying the cost later, especially when a little pain might do the trick just as well. Wincing, she leaned all her weight onto her left leg. An electric spike rammed through her ankle and up her calf and she wasn't sleepy anymore.
Watching the transmissions wouldn't make someone hear them any faster. Ro wiped her micro clean and returned the whole screen to sleep mode. Something should get its rest. "Ro, you've spent way too much time with machines," she whispered. If only she could have made a connection with the AI. That would have been something.
Ro stroked the surface of the command console, thinking of what could have been. "We could have made quite the team," she said.
A rumble moved through the ship. Ro stiffened, her hand rigid on the console. The emergency lights splashed red shadows across the cockpit.
"Intruder alert, sector nine."
"Shit, what did you do?" Micah shouted, fighting to be heard over the computer's impassive voice. He bolted upright and blinked, looking around the bridge.
"Intruder alert, sector nine. Enemy craft bearing one-six-seven mark ten. Time to engagement T minus eight minutes."
"I didn't do anything!" Ro said, quickly snatching her hand away from the console. "Maybe someone heard us."
"Or maybe the ship is trying out a new way to kill us."
"Ro?" Barre stood between her and the still-sleeping Jem, frowning.
"Hang on," Ro said, reaching for her micro. If there were someone out there trying to respond to their signal, why didn't the comm system let her know?
"Ro?" Barre repeated.
She shot him a warning look. "I'm on it."
"Intruder alert, sector nine."
"Time to engagement T minus seven minutes."
Shit. What the hell was the ship going to do this time?
"Ro!" Barre slammed his hand against the nearest console with a sound that reverberated through the bridge, over the AIs metronomic warnings.
"What?" Ro and Micah answered simultaneously.
Barre frowned, his eyebrows pulling together. "I'm not sure, but I think the ship is trying to talk to me."
***
Barre's head buzzed with a strange music. It drowned out the computer's monotone voice and somehow blended with the random chaos of the strobe lights to form coherent themes and melodies.
Trying to listen and talk at the same time, Barre felt as if his own mind was playing out of phase. He opened his mouth and couldn't find words. "I don't understand," he said, but he wasn't sure if he was speaking to Ro and Micah or the ship. The music rolled through him, overpowering all of his senses. It was all he could hear, but all he could see, taste, smell, or touch, too. The bridge and the ship itself receded, becoming bright notes and musical phrases, strange but recognizable.
"Please, I don't understand," he cried, but the plea never sounded outside his own head. It reverberated inside, a discordant counterpoint to the ship's song. Something hit his face with the impact of a cymbal strike. The music cut off mid-note and Barre could feel the blood surging through him, the heat rising through his chest, the pressure of red lights against his eyes.
Ro stood close enough for him to see the fear in her dilated eyes and the pulse racing at her throat. Barre lifted his hand to touch the side of his face.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't know what else to do."
Barre blinked at her, trying to re-orient himself to the ordinary sensory world.
"Time to engagement, T minus six minutes."
"I don't understand," Barre said again. It was like the chorus of a song, familiar, catchy, strangely comforting.
