“Together, we have completed all the directives you have set forth.”
“Good. Then it is time I bring Bristol and Granger out of the trash buffer and back to the MicroVault proper.” Ricket stepped up to the virtual pedestal and called up an access portal. It appeared and loomed before him. Ricket did one more check on what they had accomplished and felt surprisingly satisfied with all their work. No … wait. Why’s the buffer decreasing in size? No! The trash bins! The Parcical’s AI maintenance functions were clearing out all the trash bins—one right after another, at lightning speed. Without hesitation, Ricket moved the two virtual files from one location to another within the MicroVault’s virtual storage. He didn’t have time to look where he was moving them to, not specifically anyway. Mesmerized by what he was witnessing, he watched as, one after another, the Parcical’s AI emptied out every trash bin until the buffer read zero. Had he truly gotten Bristol and Granger out in time? There was only one way to be really sure. He stepped through the open MicroVault terminal access portal.
* * *
Ricket arrived in the familiar, bright white environment of the virtual MicroVault storage area. He turned around and assessed his surroundings; feeling relieved, he knew he was standing at the same approximate drop location he’d stood at previously. Thousands upon thousands of stored objects surrounded him—everything in its place and perfectly organized. Behind him was the open portal he’d just walked through. He eyed it, double-checking it hadn’t disappeared, thereby condemning him to lifelong captivity.
He continued on, following the same route as before. Eventually up ahead, he saw Leon and Hanna, lying side by side upon padded platforms within medium-sized containers, both still unconscious. He debated if he should continue on—look first for Bristol and Granger—or attempt to wake them now. The truth was, there was no guarantee he’d ever find Bristol and Granger, while these two needed rescuing.
Ricket moved to Leon’s container, taking stock of what he was connected to. There was an intravenous tube coming from his arm, which led to some kind of dispensary device secured to the platform. He pulled at the tube before realizing it wasn’t an intravenous tube at all, but more like an optical cable strapped to his wrist. Removing it was a simple matter of expanding the elastic band, then pulling it over his limp hand. Looking at the inside of the band, he saw fluctuating micro-pulses of light.
Ricket leaned over Leon’s face—using two fingers, he pried open one of his eyelids. His pupil, although responding sluggishly, did register a level of responsiveness to the light. Leon’s breathing became shallower and he opened his mouth and licked his lips. He was waking up. Ricket moved over to Hanna’s container and removed the elastic band and cable from her wrist, as he’d just done with Leon. He sat down on the edge of the platform and waited. His mind, always in a state of multitasking, was still watchful of the Parcical’s AI and her actions. His presence within this section of the MicroVault hadn’t triggered any alarms to go off.
Leon’s arms and legs moved and he abruptly leaned forward on his elbows. Startled at first, he stared directly at Ricket. “What the hell is going on? Where …” Leon looked around and took in his surroundings. His gaze finally fell on Hanna’s still-immobile form, in the container next to him.
“Is she?”
“She should be waking up momentarily,” Ricket said.
Ricket saw comprehension in Leon’s eyes. He knew exactly where he was and what had happened to them.
Hanna, more slowly than Leon, was coming around. She opened her eyes.
Leon leaned closer to her. “It’s all right. You’re okay, Hanna.”
Slowly she sat up and she too looked around at her surroundings. She touched her head and rubbed her temples. “Freaky dreams.”
“Tell me about it,” Leon said, now on his feet and going to Hanna. “Can you stand?”
“I think so.” She cautiously stood up and climbed out of the container. She wavered a bit and Leon held her steady. They both looked at Ricket.
“We don’t have much time,” Ricket said. “In fact, we could all be deleted at any second.”
“Then let’s get the hell out of here!” Leon said, looking ready to run.
“Both Bristol and Granger are in here somewhere. We first need to find them and bring them with us. Then we can leave.”
But Leon was only half-listening to Ricket as he wandered down the virtual corridor.
“Leon?” Ricket said.
“There she is! Right there in that large container … we’re not going anywhere without my ship.” Leon strode back to Ricket. “What’s exactly happening … what are we doing?”
“Escaping. Once we find the other two, the plan is to extricate ourselves, along with the Minian—”
“And the SpaceRunner,” Leon interjected.
“Yes, and the SpaceRunner, onto the surface of Alurian.”
“Alurian?” Hanna asked, looking confused.
“It’s a long story and we haven’t time to waste,” Ricket said. He looked at Leon and Hanna for several beats and said, “We need to split up. I still have work to do on board the Minian to prepare things. You two need to look for Bristol and Granger on your own … can you do that?”
“Without getting lost in this place? Twenty steps from here, we’ll be totally disoriented!”
He was right, Ricket realized. He at least had Beatrice to guide him within the virtual constructs of their environment. An idea struck him and Ricket smiled. “Leon, you have NanoCom!”
“Yeah … so what?”
“I want to introduce you to … um … a friend of mine. Her name is Beatrice. She’ll be talking to you via your NanoCom. She’ll help direct you … keep you from getting lost.”
“What are you talking about, Ricket?”
“We’re out of time so just take my word for it; she’s here to help.”
Ricket first mentally accessed Beatrice, then opened a NanoCom channel to Leon. He would interface between the two. “Leon, I’d like to introduce you to Beatrice … Beatrice, say hello to Leon.”
“Hello, Leon … we should hurry,” Beatrice said.
Ricket watched Leon’s face and the smile that reached his lips. “Works for me.” He held out a hand for Hanna and the two headed down the virtual corridor—between the masses of strange and bizarre stored objects.
Ricket spun in the opposite direction and ran back the way he’d come only ten minutes earlier. He saw the open portal ahead—just as he had left it. He ran right through the opening and immediately found himself again standing within the MicroVault terminal, within the Minian.
He looked around and considered all he needed to accomplish. He heard heavy footsteps approaching, and Traveler, once again, came into view.
“Traveler. Good you are here. I think it’s best if you and your team return to HAB 170.”
“Go back and hide?”
“No … not at all. It’s temporary. I can’t explain technically what is happening … what will be happening, other than I will be moving the ship … the Minian to a different place. While I’m doing that, you and the others need to be back in HAB 170. Please trust me; it’s safer that way. I’m not completely sure anyone on board the Minian will survive. That reminds me, please get Norwell from the brig and take him to HAB 170 as well.”
Traveler seemed to consider Ricket’s words before snorting, “I will get Norwell and send him with the other warriors back into the habitat. But I will remain with you. I will stand by your side, Ricket. Nor will there be future discussion on the matter.”
Ricket was touched by the rhino’s loyalty and knew there was no arguing with him. He was as stubborn as he was courageous.
“Thank you, Traveler. Then go—do it now. Ensure everyone is off the ship and return back here as quickly as possible.”
Traveler snorted once, initialized his battle suit, and flashed away.
“Ricket?”
“Yes, Beatrice … have you found Bristol and—”
Beatrice interrupted him: “Ricket, objects within the Parcical’s MicroVault are systematically being deleted.”
Chapter 27
High Orbit Over Alurian, Gracow CD1 System
Parcical, Omni’s Quarters
__________________________
Startled, Hobel awakened from a deep, dream-filled, sleep. His second-in-command, Cloister Hann, was standing at the side of his bed, looking uneasy.
“There’s been an intrusion, Omni. It was detected by the ship’s AI ten minutes ago.”
“Intrusion! Impossible. We’re cloaked. How would—”
“A virtual intrusion. It looks to be a hack into the ship’s network … more specifically, into one or more of the virtual MicroVaults.”
“It’s that damn Ricket! Why wasn’t he captured hours ago? My direct orders were to go in and get him.”
“Somehow, he’s blocking our MicroVault projection link … some kind of firewall.”
“I will not tolerate any more incompetence. I’ll be on the bridge momentarily. Get out!” Hobel scrambled from beneath his bedcovers and hurried to get dressed. His mind raced. Virtual hacking isn’t supposed to be possible.
Hacking into the Parcical was no small matter. In many ways, it was worse than a physical invasion by enemy forces. The Parcical was unique: much of the ship was nothing more than a virtual representation of actual matter. Certainly, the ship’s hull was real, as were the ship’s superstructure, the propulsion systems, the deck plating, and perhaps even the plumbing. But almost everything else was a mere representation—a virtual construct—that only looked and felt solid. All of it a derivative of advanced software programming. A hack into the vessel could be catastrophic. The ship was the product of the greatest Caldurian minds at work—unparalleled robust engineering and testing added years into the design, and the ultimate production of the craft. The Parcical’s AI and network had been deemed one hundred percent impenetrable. Hobel was certain there was no finer vessel—none more technologically advanced—in the universe. Perhaps the multiverse!
* * *
It took Hobel less than eight minutes to go from the comfort of his bed to the buzzing, high-tension atmosphere of the bridge. Wearing the same somewhat rumpled white uniform he’d worn the prior night, he took a seat in the command chair and glared at his second-in-command.
“Speak to me!”
Hann approached the Omni, swallowed hard, and began: “It is as I said earlier. We have been hacked. But only to command level.”
“Only to command level?” Hobel yelled. “Do you know what can be accomplished with command-level access?” Hobel, in reality, was not completely sure himself. He guessed with only lower user-level clearance, the ship was probably safe. Access to either propulsion, or navigation software subroutines, would not be allowed. But, whoever this intruder was—and he had a pretty good idea it was Ricket—he certainly had access to the Parcical’s storage systems, including each of their MicroVaults.
“So what have you done to safeguard the network?” Hobel asked, glowering at his second-in-command.
“The intruder has hidden himself well. Well enough not to differentiate himself from native programming. With that said, the intruder, or multiple intruders, will need to be apprehended manually.”
“Manually? What the hell does that mean?”
“T-bots … Tracker bots. A final safeguard that was deemed unnecessary by the engineers, due to the high level of security already in place, but added, nevertheless, as another level of protection. The bots are virtual, of course. Simply put, they have the ability to find, confront, and destroy anything that looks suspicious. Five of them have already been dispatched into the MicroVaults in question.”
“Just as long as the Minian’s Zip accelerators are left intact,” Hobel said. “Their technology may still hold the only key to Caldurian survival, especially after that recent fiasco down on Alurian.”
“That is understood, Omni.”
“Good. Now I want Ricket found and destroyed, and that goes for the other prisoners in stasis. All terminated immediately.”
“Unfortunately, Omni, they are no longer registering … showing up … as valid cataloged items.”
“Does that mean they have been rescued, or does it mean your T-bots have already terminated them?”
“That, Omni … sir, I do not know,” Hann said.
“Well, find out. Now! I want all of them deleted. Permanently.”
* * *
Ricket was back at the workstation where Bristol, earlier, had been working. He found the assembled code for a second portable MicroVault virtual terminal and uploaded it into his own memory banks. Even with the expanded, updated nano-devices now functioning within his newly enlarged cranium, the code still contained a tremendous amount of data for him to store. He knew the data was weightless, had no mass, so maybe it was his imagination, but his head suddenly felt heavier on his shoulders.
“Your completed projector unit is waiting in the hopper, Ricket.”
“Thank you, Beatrice.” Ricket was already out of the chair and running down the corridor. He entered the phase synthesizer compartment and headed for the output tray. The building-sized synthesizer machine was capable of manufacturing virtually anything—from spacecraft to toothpaste. Today, it was a quasi-portable, hand-held projector, which would, if he and Bristol had designed it correctly, properly synchronize with either of the newly developed MicroVault terminals. The pyramid-shaped projector was large enough, though, to require Ricket to use both hands to heft it, and it was far heavier than he’d anticipated. Struggling to carry it even a few steps, the projector was suddenly pulled from his grasp. Traveler, returned from sending fellow rhino-warriors back into their habitat, easily plucked the device away with three fingers of one hand.
“Thank you, Traveler.”
He grunted and waited for Ricket to lead on. Ricket checked his internal sensors—verifying that no other life signs showed anyone still on board the Minian. He saw that the mecher, Trommy5, was still there where he had been left within the Zip Farm, but that should be fine. “This way, Traveler, we must now leave the Minian.”
Ricket hurried into the MicroVault terminal and went directly to the pedestal. He tapped at the virtual display and almost immediately the access portal appeared before them.
Traveler looked somewhat startled by its unexpected appearance and snorted a burst of snotty mist into the air over his large head.
“This way, Traveler … we must hurry now.” Ricket ran through the portal opening without hesitation, but when he stepped out into the whiteness of the MicroVault storage area, Traveler wasn’t behind him.
In the stark-white brightness, row after row of stored equipment lockers, fuel cells, reactor modules, and countless other items of every shape and size were hovering weightless in their perfectly organized and allocated spaces. Now standing alone, there was an eerie, disconcerting silence he hadn’t noticed before. Startled, he heard Beatrice’s voice in his head. “Ricket, I’m detecting additional security measures being implemented within this MicroVault.”
Ricket did not answer her. Still waiting, his eyes were locked on the open portal. Come on, Traveler … where are you?
Upon gaining entry into the vault, Ricket’s internal sensors had also detected the vault’s added security measures. This added complication he hadn’t anticipated. Ricket hailed Leon.
“Where the hell have you been, Ricket?” Leon asked, sounding out of breath.
Ricket said, “I was working on—”
Leon cut him off: “Listen, we found Bristol and Granger; both were unconscious. I think they’re okay. But there’s something else—right now, we’re being chased … hunted, by a … I don’t know what the hell it is. But it’s gaining on us.”
Suddenly, Ricket heard Bristol’s voice added into their comms channel: “It’s a fucking tracker bot! Things can shred anything in their path!”
Ricket’s relief at hearing Bristol’s voice
was short-lived. Off in the distance he saw four figures running for their very lives. Leon and Hanna were out front—Bristol following, with Granger bringing up the rear. But what was closing in behind them captured Ricket’s full attention. Bristol was correct; it was indeed a tracker bot. In this realm, where it was a requirement everything take on physical form, the bot was perfectly suited to, as Bristol so eloquently stated, shred anything within its path. It looked like a wild cluster of circular, razor-sharp, buzz saws.
Ricket stared, mesmerized.
Leon was now close enough for Ricket to hear what he was yelling: “Go Go Go! Run, Ricket!”
Then it hit him, he was standing in their path. His mouth fell open to say something, but no words escaped his lips. One by one—Leon, Hanna, Bristol, and Granger ran toward him, then past him. Ricket remained paralyzed where he stood—not taking his eyes off the fast-approaching tracker bot that was efficiently shredding everything in its path.
Ricket fumbled for his SuitPac device, hanging from his belt. Nervous fingers unsuccessfully tried to locate the two inset tabs to initialize his battle suit. He realized his actions were futile. He’d run out of time.
The tracker bot was going to churn him into dust, or whatever one got turned into within this microscopic virtual world. In that instant, he resigned himself to the fact he was going to die—and die within seconds. Seeing the approaching blades, he decided to close his eyes.
Chapter 28
High Orbit Over Alurian, Gracow CD1 System
Parcical, Virtual MicroVault
__________________________
The next sensation he experienced was not exactly expected. Ricket felt himself flung, more or less, through the air, but without any accompanying, and expected, pain. Then, landing hard on something, Ricket did feel pain … but a different kind of pain. He opened his eyes and found he was lying sideways on an enormous food replicator. In full view before him was the tracker bot, being mercilessly battered by a seven-foot-tall rhino-warrior wielding his heavy hammer.
Ricket (Star Watch Book 2) Page 18
