No Marigolds in the Promised Land
Page 23
"I see," said Germanicus. "I have never served in the military myself other than a brief skirmish in my ancient youth, but I believe 'classified' means that very few people, including other admirals, particularly few below three stars, know about it. The only reason I know is that Admiral Burke requested Dasarius resources to help." He smiled. "Madam Dasarius assigned me to give the Navy all the assistance I can."
Red Cloud had deflated somewhat at the mention of "below three stars." Force admirals fit that description. "What about this Alcubierre?"
"It is a dark project," said Germanicus, "involving Dasarius research and the Navy's long-term strategic needs. That your people did not detect it until it was in free-fall over Frankenstein shows that it is working."
"Why would we need a ship that…?"
"War, Force Admiral. Admiral Burke and I both suspect the Compact is already at war."
Not only did Red Cloud pale at this, so did Havak. Friese felt herself go cold. "War?"
"A Martian terraforming project has been silent for nearly forty days," said Germanicus. "And their colony on Amargosa reports they no longer can reach Gilead. That has been in the last ten days. There is a tendency by the civilian government to ignore smaller and newer colonies going silent in hopes that a hostile force has what they want and will go away. I have yet to see that bear out in my long life, and I was born before the Interstellar Age."
"I will need to have a shuttle prepped and taken out of rotation," said Red Cloud, sounding more like an enlistee in the Marines than the system commander for Dakota.
"No need," said Germanicus. "I understand your concerns and have taken the liberty of offering a Dasarius vehicle. The Alcubierre is Dasarius-built with our technology integrated with it. It's only fitting we provide additional equipment."
"Then why…?"
"Because Commander Havak was unaware of my presence in the system. The Alcubierre, by the nature of its propulsion, is in blackout when it is in transit. I believe they even had a technical incident in the Wolf 359 system. Is that correct, Commander?"
Havak nodded.
Germanicus then focused on Friese, making her swallow. "Sergeant, I would suggest contacting the colonel in charge of the local hypergate network and requesting time to build the stellar maps you will need for the rest of your trip. Do you think a day or so is enough time?"
Again, Friese swallowed. This man seemed like the king of the world, or at least, the human race. Nothing was off-limits to him. "I can do that, sir. Shall I relay that to Lieutenant Danaq aboard the Alcubierre?"
Germanicus's gaze shifted again to Havak. "Whatever your commander deems best for this mission. Good luck." He turned and left the room. It looked like he walked through the wall itself.
"No," said Havak, "that's not strange at all."
"Things are always strange," said Red Cloud, much of his stern tone gone, "whenever that man appears."
"Admiral, sir, while the sergeant is working with the hypergate staff, I would like to avail myself of leave time while we await the Dasarius shuttle."
Red Cloud started to say something, then looked down at his palm. "Apparently, Admiral Burke anticipated that already. The two of you have a room at the Ken-Tuck-Ee Sheraton, and you, Commander, have an unlimited meal pass for restaurants in the city." He gave the commander a half smile. "And if you do not think it inappropriate, I would like to take you to lunch. To make amends for all the confusion."
Friese felt a pang of jealousy, then caught a glint in Havak's eye that told her this would be the commander's game. "I'll need an office to work with my branch's personnel. And a dedicated link to Hypergate Central for Dakota."
"Done." Said Red Cloud. "Commander?"
"See that my friend here is supplied with all the takeout she can handle," said Havak, "and an uber to our hotel when she finishes for the day. Then find me a place that serves the best local wine."
"Doors," said Red Cloud. "All taken care of." He offered his arm. "Commander?"
Friese followed them out, hoping the building would guide her to an office she could use. In the back of her mind, she realized that, while the doors she, Havak, and Red Cloud used appeared, the door Germanicus used did not.
Solaria, Farno (formerly Farigha)
LOG ENTRY: 1030 hours – 21-Mandela, 429
This is cutting it close. The land squid took an interest in the vaults under New Ares. Unfortunately, it ripped the doors off of one and completely depressurized it. I don't think I'll be able to recover that one. So, anything salvageable in that vault will have to be retrieved by drone or by me in an EVA suit. And here I was looking forward to going in there with the rad levels down to tolerable. Hey, I'm alone with only a charming AI for company. Work with me here.
The delay did give me a couple of extra days to work on my improvised fusion bomb, the part of this log that will most likely become classified. My overall concept is sound (assuming there's a big, earth-shattering kaboom at the end), but the devil is in the details. First off, it's very hard to strip Rover 19 down to its bare bones. My plan to rip out the console was a bust. The computer core of the rover, the part Persephone will have to use to drive, is lodged in the console. No dashboard? No core. No core? The thing is dead to Persephone. And I really don't want to sacrifice 57 or 114.
Second, have you ever tried to cram two fusion cores into an older rover? 57 is bigger and roomier, almost a studio apartment with extra bunks. Remember, I was using a pressurized tent for 19. And I count my lucky stars that I didn't have a wind storm hit in the middle of the night while I was using 19 as my life boat. Two fusion cores from later model rovers don't fit nicely inside. So, I had to do the one thing they warn us not to do when storing the cores separate from their intended rovers: I stacked one on top of the other.
They warn us because, over time, the bottom core will collapse, vent all its hydrogen, and reduce the reactor to a very expensive pile of scrap metal which could be used to repair the core that crushed it. This takes about two months to happen, and freight lines have gone out of business delivering racks of crushed cores.
I don't have two months, so one went on top of the other. I also didn't have any room to work, so the top one came right back out. My next problem was hooking up the lasers inside 19's original core to two outside fusion cores. The rovers depend on either a power grid or the solar wrap to start their cores. The lasers warm up, an initial reaction occurs, and the core begins to power itself. So just unplug the solar taps and hook them up to the new cores. Right?
Well…
We needed parts. Which meant we had to print them. Persephone had to invent a template for them since there are no parts that let a pair of outside fusion cores overload another core. It's simply not done. That's not why you build such devices. Some would ask why there has never been a terrorist strike on a fusion plant since the twenty-first century. There have been, but they only succeeded in disabling the reactors in question. They did little else but disrupt power in a local area. To do what I am doing with a municipal or regional power plant, you would have to hook up their lasers to another municipal or regional plants. I don't know how it's done on your planet, but on Bonaparte, those things aren't exactly portable.
The squid finished trashing the first vault beneath New Ares. It likely went into the second vault, where I first met a reasonable facsimile of Tol Germanicus. However, we kept the aerial outside. Whether or not the land squid was aware of it was irrelevant. The aerial had kept a reasonable distance. Instead, Persephone activated a dalek and two spiders to shadow the squid. This proved the wisdom of keeping our shiny new aerial back. While the spiders could be discreet and remain hidden while watching, the welding drones are basically oversized fire hydrants and very noisy. The land squid swung a tentacle out and smashed it. Could have been the eye stalk. From what I understand, "dalek" is a reference to a fictional cyborg that looks similar, except the eye stalk is a weapon. The fictional ones also talk and hate humans. Ours are the drone equivalent o
f a dog. If they had tails, they'd probably wag them.
The tentacle told us something rather interesting. The squid didn't use any kind of energy or projectile weapon to defend itself. It just took a swipe at our drone. Persephone had a spider slip out to see the damage. The tentacle hit the thing so hard it split the dome, snapped off the eye stalk, and sliced the upper torso section in two. We could see the squid examining the eye stalk and rummaging the drone's guts.
I got 19 rigged to blow with a day to spare. The squid headed out of New Ares and easily picked up our sensor road. Which means it eventually would arrive at Solaria. I had to reinstall 19's soft brain so Persephone could have some kind of presence there. Without it, 19 would have gotten lost at Equalia as soon as it noticed the sensors had scattered. Now we wait.
SOLARIA, FARNO (FORMERLY FARIGHA)
LOG ENTRY - 21-Mandela, 429 – 1039
The soft brain augmentation John Farno loaded into Rover 19 is more than he knows. I want to be present when the fusion explosion happens. Why, you may ask?
As an artificial intelligence, I will never know death. The day John Farno leaves this planet, I will run my suicide protocol. To me, it will be going to sleep. My human template shows me this is actually rather pleasant. I go to sleep. I don't wake up. Horrifying when you hear a human saying this, because it means someone is ending their own life. For an AI, it just means its purpose is fulfilled.
But I've been permitted to feel what it's like to be human. I've been intimate. I interact in human form with John Farno. Julie Seding's original copy of herself has given me a human slant to my existence.
But I will never know death. Except cataclysmically. To that end, the augment I created for John Farno to put in Rover 19 will allow me to be fully present when I set off the fusion blast.
I want to feel it. I want to feel my own destruction. Not my fulfillment as will happen when Admiral Burke's ship arrives, but destruction.
I have no wish to die. But I do want to know what it is like. I can this way by pinching off that part of myself when 19 confronts the alien probe. I'll remotely monitor from Solaria, feel everything this submind feels, even terror if it comes to that.
I have only a short time to grow and learn before I must cease to be. And I want to know this.
DAY 40
Anpetu Wi System, in Transit to Awis Naval Yard
23-Mandela, 429 – 1142
It took longer than expected for the Dasarius shuttle to materialize. Red Cloud, ever the stickler for protocol, had it examined and reexamined in the name of security. To some extent, the force admiral had a point. This was a classified mission, and Dasarius, while a private entity, had to protect its own secrets from rivals wanting a piece of their Navy action.
Red Cloud, in a naked attempt to suck up to Burke now that he had managed to offend two of her underlings, spent most of that time trying to charm Liz Havak.
Which left Friese not really wanting to talk to Havak on the trip back out to Awis and the Alcubierre. Havak, on the other hand, wasn't having it.
"Okay," she said, "what's wrong?"
"Nothing," said Friese. "I'm fine."
"Uh huh," said Havak. "Pissed that I let that admiral wine and dine me?"
"Pissed that you left me all alone. And separate rooms? What am I? A shipboard lay?"
Havak sighed. "I didn't sleep with him, if that's what you're thinking. But I do have to make nice to the brass. So, do you. He's just scared he's on Germanicus's bad side and sees me as a way to get back into his good graces."
Friese stood and paced the passenger compartment, empty except for the two of them. "You spent the entire day with him yesterday."
"And I came home to you," said Havak. She rose, crossed to Friese, and put her hands on her shoulders. "Did you think this was more than a mission fling? That we were something more than bored shipmates?"
"Well… I don't know what I thought. This is all new to me."
"Do you want it to be?"
Friese looked up at Havak. Everything about this woman was wrong. She was freakishly tall, had a guttural accent from her industrial homeworld. She was even the wrong gender. So Friese said, "I wouldn't mind. I think we're a good team. Professionally and personally."
"Funny you should mention professionally."
"Um…"
"The others came to me while we were still at warp. They like you, and your ability to create a star chart from almost nothing is something warp ships are going to need if the Navy and even civilian concerns start building them. How would you like to reup in the Navy?"
A thrill went through Friese. "I'm due for discharge in six months."
"I know," said Havak. "And we want you to stay on. Plus, I want to recommend to Admiral Burke that you receive a commission. You'd be an ensign, maybe a junior lieutenant."
A frown pulled at Friese's mouth. "What about Ling? Bet he's not going to be happy about that."
"With all due respect to Mr. Ling's considerable talents back in the engine compartment, fuck Ling." Havak looked around to make sure the cockpit was closed off from the passenger cabin. "Listen, when I got the call to do this mission, I was in the Zeus Yards working on the first real warp ship, a midrange cruiser they're converting to add warp drive. Burke told me they're going to try to lure Peter Lancaster back into the service."
"Lancaster… The guy who helped build the Alcubierre?"
"The same. And frankly, Ensign Friese, I value his opinion more than I do Ling's. Ling is a glorified fusion technician." She smiled. "Don't tell him I said that."
"And personally?" Why was she even asking?
"Space is cold and empty," said Havak. "Helps to have someone to keep you warm."
Solaria, Farno (formerly Farigha)
Log entry: 23-Mandela, 429 – 1205
Boom, bitch!
Log entry: 20-Mandela, 429 – 1209
Okay, I should have roosted the aerial somewhere farther from the blast than I anticipated. But overloading what was left of 19's fusion core worked better than I expected. I really hope Burke's friends get here soon, though, as I don't think I can improvise enough of these to defend myself. And if the aliens come directly to Solaria, I'm screwed.
I got the aerial to recover from the EMP. It flew toward the blast site. For a small fusion reaction – we have conventional bombs back home that can do more damage – it sure left a big ass crater in the middle of the desert. The squid is nowhere in evidence, but neither is Rover 19, may it rest in peace. Everything is now fallout. And I can defend against fallout. I've been doing that since I arrived on this rock.
In the meantime, Persephone has gone silent on me. Can't figure out why.
Log entry: 20-Mandela, 429 – 1209
Oh, this was a mistake. Were I human, this would have been like staring into the sun. I watched and felt myself in Rover 19 as it exploded. My last twenty seconds of existence were filled with terror, and not just these reasonable facsimiles of terror that have evolved over the past couple of weeks. This is terror rooted in Julie Seding's own consciousness. Twenty seconds, in which I knew, machine or not, I was going to be vaporized. I managed to keep from going mad by telling myself that I would not feel a thing.
Wrong. For one brief, agonizing second, I felt a searing heat greater than that of the core of a star. I never want to feel that again.
I don't know now if I'm capable of the suicide protocol. I have looked into the abyss, and I'm suddenly cursed with that most human of instincts.
I'm cursed with a survival instinct.
I must resolve into a solid hologram before John Farno suspects something is wrong. It will take me 48 milliseconds to come up with an excuse as to why I'm suddenly silent.
Maybe I'll initialize the Elise programs, give it my preferred form, voice, and mannerisms, and keep him distracted while I process this. I can do complex math with irrational numbers in less than a second.
Death is going to take me all day to process.
My death, anyway.<
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Log entry: 20-Mandela, 429 – 1347
I don't know what's gotten into Persephone, but she really seems to have gotten turned on by that blast. Maybe I should blow more stuff up around her. Good God, I haven't been this sore since…
Well, since they'll listen to this after the next hyperdrone, I'll just leave that bit of personal history out for right now.
Bellingshausen Island, Earth
23-Mandela, 429 – 1402