Solomon chuckled at the small note of pride in the AI’s voice.
“Both rooms are directly across from the main dining hall. As you know, the Fontaine Corporation has devoted significant time and energy into food replication, and while not exotic in nature, the menu of good dishes is quite extensive. I transferred all my culinary data to the food replicator on the Lost Horizon.”
“Cool,” Solomon murmured. “Does that mean I can get a real hamburger with french fries and a cola?”
“Indeed, it does, sir, along with pizza, beer, and other gastronomic delicacies in that particular genre of food. Vitamins and minerals have been added, however, so that the nutritional value isn’t exactly zero.” There was a note of disgust in the AI’s voice.
“And where are our quarters?” Elora asked in a calm voice. The tone of her voice and the narrowing of her eyes told him that Gibbs better not play games… and she was a beast of Mars in her own right.
“Once you reach the hangar deck, you simply follow the line, miss, and it will direct you and Solomon to your rooms,” Gibbs said gently, confirming Solomon’s impression that their AI was much more familiar with the psychology of the human race then he’d let on. As if by magic, a faint blue line appeared on the hangar deck before them, leading away toward the closest door.
“Thank you.” Her voice was flat.
Solomon stopped abruptly. “Fairly soon, you should consider taking up permanent residence in this new ship, Gibbs. You were designed to control a living, moving starship, not a hulk in a hangar.”
“I…” Gibbs faltered. “Thank you, sir. I will do that thing.”
Since there was nothing more for them to do aboard the old Lost Horizon, Solomon and Elora wasted no time departing. He touched the faded pastel walls of the corridor as he and Elora walked on, marveling at the strange, almost organic feel of the material. The air in the ancient ship had a faintly musty smell, like a newly opened tomb. Solomon imagined the strange alien crewmembers bustling about their duties on the vast ship.
The next morning, after a good night’s sleep and a hearty breakfast, Solomon and Elora stood in the hangar, staring at what remained of the old Lost Horizon. A thin billowing fog covering the area was busily disassembling the damaged ship. Already the cold-sleep ring had been removed, with the individual caskets lined up neatly against the far wall. As they watched, a large section of white hull seemed to dissolve as it was broken down into its component parts.
“Gibbs?” Solomon said nervously. “Are you still in there?”
“Yes and no, Captain.”
Solomon watched as a large cabinet floated out of the side of the Terran ship, drifting effortlessly to the deck. “I am, as you see, in the process of being moved to the central computer location. Once installed there, I will have superior control over all ship functions.”
At his side, Elora looked… bemused.
“That’s a very good idea, Gibbs, but be careful as you connect to ship systems. Who knows what fail-safes might be installed.”
Gibbs was silent for several moments. “Thank you, Solomon. I will take care.” The cabinet, followed closely by a small keg-shaped object that Solomon assumed was a temporary power supply for the AI, headed in a stately procession for the door. “This vessel has a device the Adaari called ‘the Educator,’ that was for the use of officers and others possessing a Kiniseri Construct. In Terran society, the device was still experimental, dealing as it did with sleep learning. If you lie there, Solomon, you will learn all you need to know about ship functions.”
There was a pause.
“There are two couches ready for the captain and first officer.” Solomon glanced at Elora, who was pale and worried. “After a few hours in the Educator, we will be ready to begin reactivating the Lost Horizon.”
“Wasn’t there a big hole in the hull where the old AI was destroyed by a Bleeth cannon or missile?” Elora asked the question Solomon had been thinking.
“Energy beam, miss. Yes, there was a hole, but the repair nanites have restored the ship’s hull integrity and are busy repairing the internal structure. The central computer area has been completed and is awaiting only my arrival. You may have noticed that much of the structure of the old Lost Horizon is missing. It was used to patch the new Lost Horizon, so you could say that this vessel is really an amalgam of the two. In a few days, I should be able to restore power to the rear half of the ship and begin repairs in that quadrant.”
The console and its partner were disappearing through the door. “How are the power systems on the ship?” Solomon asked.
“To be honest, they were on the verge of failing,” Gibbs said. “In less than two hundred years, the containment on the singularity would have failed, and the ship, along with most of this wreckage, would have been consumed. I used our own power system to repair and rejuvenate the containment as best I could, but it would probably be wise to have a shipyard refit our power plant sometime in the next millennia.” He said it so calmly Solomon almost missed it, and then he blinked.
“A millennia, as in one thousand years?” he asked in a quiet stunned voice.
“Yes, Captain. If you stay aboard to get the power plant refitted, our association could be much longer. This ship, obviously, was built to last.”
Solomon glanced at Elora, to see that all expression had faded from her face, and her normally olive skin was the color of chalk. He could feel her trembling as she clutched his arm, and he had to remind himself that Elora was still a young woman who had led a very sheltered life. He sighed. “Okay, Gibbs, please lead us to the Educator.”
A blue line flickered into existence at his feet.
“After a session in the Educator, you will know and remember the location of everything in or on the ship, Captain.” Gibbs sounded smug.
“Thanks a lot.” He turned to Elora. “Coming, my dear?”
They were walking down a long corridor when Gibbs spoke. “One thing I forgot to mention, Captain. This ship has a very advanced FTL drive system.”
Solomon stumbled and stopped.
“If you wish,” Gibbs continued, “we could be at Terra in less than two weeks… real time, once the drive is operational.”
“That is a very good idea, but I think that we should complete our primary mission first: land the colonists on Shangi-La and check on things there. After that, we might pay a little visit to Mars and only then say hello to the Earth government.”
Almost reading his thought, Gibbs spoke up. “Weapons systems will be fully charged in three hundred fifty hours and capable of a shot or two by the end of the day today. Missile compliment is down to only a few dozen, out of two thousand five hundred.”
Solomon thought for a moment. “Keep your eyes open for a damaged but not destroyed munitions ship as we pull out of this cloud of debris. Mark it, and we can come back before we head for Terra.” He looked around frowning slightly. “What class ship was this, Gibbs?”
“This vessel was classified as a Ghazi-class battlecruiser, the smallest in the class. The largest ship fielded by the Adaari was the Terror-class dreadnaught, at ten kilometers in length and nearly matched by the Sword-class carrier at nine and a half kilometers. This was the last of six fleets to engage the Bleeth, and all six Adaari fleets were destroyed to the ship, but so also were the Bleeth.”
“What a waste of good men and materiel,” Solomon grumbled, following the blue line. “You would think that after millions of years of evolution, someone would have figured out that war isn’t the answer.”
Elora cocked her head to the side and shot him a questioning look. “That’s an odd thing for a soldier to say,” she said, only slightly louder than the sound of his footfalls.
Solomon chuckled. “This might sound strange coming from a marine jarhead, but I believe that most soldiers would be happy if they worked themselves out of a job. They would like to go home to their families every night and not have to worry about this enemy or that camped out on your front doorstep.”<
br />
“You’re an odd man, Solomon Draxx.” She slipped her arm through his.
He laughed. “Tell that to your father. I think he’s the one with the odd genes.”
She gave a little humph of irritation.
Chapter 8
THE KINISERI CONSTRUCT
The Educator was a small room, nine meters at a side, with several comfortable-looking couches lining the perimeter and one central console with a single chair in the middle. The walls and ceiling were a soothing green, and the floor was gray. The first two couches on the right side were illuminated by subtle overhead lights, and Solomon looked around for a headpiece of some sort, but found nothing.
“Just lie down on a couch, Solomon, and don’t worry. I’ll be monitoring you and Miss Fontaine the entire time.” Gibbs’s voice was reassuring.
Solomon shrugged and stretched out on the first couch as Elora stretched out on the second. It wasn’t long before he heard the calming contralto voice of the Educator.
“Please, shut your eyes,” the pleasing female voice said. “This only works with your full cooperation.”
He shut his eyes and immediately saw the image of the battlecruiser floating in his mind’s eye. The image was slowly spinning on a central axis as if it had been pierced by a pithing needle and stuck on an invisible display board. “This is an introduction to the battlecruiser Lost Horizon. This ship was constructed at the Detana shipyards on X'wat'e Prime for the Adaari Empire during the reign of His Imperial Majesty Kal-Balsilek XVI, and is the third ship of her class to be constructed there. She is 5.827 kilometers long, using your own measuring system, and carries a crew of one thousand. The battlecruiser has several auxiliary craft assigned to her, including one armed pinnace, four combat shuttles, and six Sabina-class fighters. Of the one thousand crewmembers, one hundred are marines, two hundred and fifty maintenance personnel, two hundred engineering, one hundred bridge personnel, two hundred scientific and medical staff, and one hundred and fifty personnel assigned to maintenance and flight crews of the auxiliary craft. The ship’s six Barine-class engines are powered by the newest singularity enhanced power system, capable of sustaining all ship functions, including energy weapons, indefinitely. Navigation is handled by…”
Solomon’s concentration drifted as sleep covered him like a warm blanket.
A light hand touched his shoulder. “You might as well get up, Solomon,” Elora said dryly. “You were snoring.”
He blinked and rubbed his eyes. “Well,” he muttered, “I guess I blew that.” He swung his feet to the floor.
“Not so,” Gibbs said. “Tell me, do you know the way to the bridge?”
Solomon snorted. “Of course I know the way to the bridge.”
“Engineering?” Gibbs continued.
“Yup.”
“Sick bay?”
Solomon’s answer came more slowly. “Yes, and I see what you are doing. I guess I didn’t miss so much, after all.”
“You missed nothing, Captain. I checked. The Educator actually works better when you are asleep.”
“Really?” Solomon chuckled. “I could have used that machine when I was younger. I hated courses.” Getting to his feet, he stuck out an elbow to Elora. “I’m headed for the bridge. Going my way, sweetheart?” He raised an eyebrow in his best Humphrey Bogart imitation.
Elora laughed lightly as she slipped her arm through his. “I’d go anywhere with you, Rick,” she said in a breathless imitation of Ingrid Bergman.
From the ceiling, Gibbs groaned.
The bridge had no windows, and Solomon knew, thanks to his recent education, that it was set back from the bow two hundred meters. When the lights came on at their entry, the first thing he noted was the one-hundred-eighty-degree wraparound viewing screen that stretched from wall to wall. A wide horseshoe of ten consoles sat before the screen, and a smaller horseshoe-shaped dais containing only two chairs sat thirty centimeters above the others and overlooked the bridge. “The left-hand chair is for the captain, the right-hand chair is for the first officer,” Gibbs informed them quietly. “Please be seated, Captain Draxx, Miss Fontaine.” The voice of the AI was more formal than his normal casual tone.
Solomon stepped up on the dais and slowly sat. The chair seemed to squirm beneath him, and he looked down sharply.
“The motion you feel is simply the chair conforming to your weight and body contour.”
“You could have told me that before I sat down.”
“Sorry.” Gibbs’s voice was totally insincere.
“You just wanted to see me get goosed by the ship—admit it.” Solomon sat with a resigned sigh. The seat squirmed, and the computer wisely remained silent.
“Captain, the seat, and by implication, the ship itself will now take a sample of your blood to add your unique DNA sequence to its memory. It will only happen once, and then I will be able to identify you anywhere on the ship, or even within a half AU.”
Solomon started at a sharp sting in his right index finger, but when he raised the digit to his eyes, the small prick had already stopped bleeding. There was a note in the air, like the chime of a deep bell, and the room came alive around him as every console lit and the view screen flickered to life to display a majestic sweep of stars. He sat back, more stunned than he wanted to admit. A cool draft of moving air—about twenty degrees Celsius, he guessed—touched his cheek. For a moment, he smelled the fresh scent of high mountain cedars. He took another deep breath and felt invigorated. His mind seemed to be operating at a hundred miles an hour, and he shook his head, frowning.
“What’s happening to me, Gibbs? I feel… strange, like my thoughts are moving at lightspeed.”
“According to the ship’s medical records,” Gibbs replied, “one of the things affected by the Kiniseri Construct is brain function. If you can think faster and clearer, your chances for survival are better.” Solomon grunted, unsure he liked the idea of a strange alien creation messing with his brain functions, not that there was anything he could do about it. He turned to Elora, who was sitting in the chair alongside his, noting that her eyes were wide and slightly unfocused.
“Are you all right?” Things had been moving so fast, and Elora was always so steady that he assumed, perhaps unwisely, that she had assimilated her own Construct with no problems.
She blinked. “I…” She shook her head and glanced down at her chair. “What just happened?” Her voice was shaky.
“The ship just took a sample of your blood. Now the ship will officially recognize your right to command, should anything happen to me.”
She gave him a cold glare.
“The ship also, in some way I don’t understand, touched our Constructs.”
“Peachy,” Elora growled sourly. “As if I don’t have enough problems at the moment.”
Solomon reached over and touched her arm gently. “It could be worse.” Sitting straight once more, he breathed deeply of the familiar fragrance in the cool breeze touching his face. “Was the cedar scent in the air your doing, Gibbs?” he asked, mentally pushing the other worry aside.
“Yes, sir,” the AI admitted evenly. “The air handlers are quite flexible in their output, and this prevents the atmosphere in the ship from smelling… stale, ‘canned’ as you would say.”
“Thank you.” He glanced at the dozen empty seats on the bridge, and an idea suddenly came to him. Smiling, he turned to Elora. “Miss Fontaine, I have a job for you. First, I would like you to wake the members of our family, considering where each might place in the hierarchy of the ship. I’m specifically looking for bridge personnel. When your family are in the process of awakening, team up with Gibbs and look over the colonist records to see if any people were marines or former military of any branch. Career soldiers would be preferable. After that, we will sit down and start plugging names into our new crew.”
She gave him a sloppy salute from where she was sitting beside him. “Moving a little fast, aren’t we?” she stated, getting to her feet.
&nb
sp; “Oh, I don’t know about that. Gibbs, how are the repairs on the ship coming?”
“Repairs on the computer system are nearly complete, Captain. Building a new drive from scratch and repairing the other drive pods will be time consuming. Power and atmosphere should be partially available to the rear half of the ship in six days, and I estimate that we will be able to get underway with at least limited drive in four weeks.”
There was another low chime in the air.
“Ahhh,” Gibbs said with satisfaction. “Your log-in is complete, Captain Draxx. You are now officially the captain of the Battlecruiser Lost Horizon, with all pay, in Adaari credits—the most stable monetary system in the universe, and benefits commensurate to your position.”
“You sound like a salesman,” Solomon commented dryly as another chime rang out.
“Thank you, sir. My programmers attempted to give me a true human personality complete with emotional overtones. I can feel, and I can crack jokes, as you say. I felt, and still feel, the loss of my former crew, and I feel anger at those back on Terra who would sacrifice over two hundred colonists and crew to destroy you. Lastly, I feel a total loyalty to you, Solomon. You saved me, after all, and risked you own life doing so, so I suppose I owe my life to you. You also helped me to survive and leave the dying Lost Horizon. You gave me a new lease on life, so to speak. Lastly, I think that I can call you my friend, and I’ve never had a friend before.”
Solomon swallowed and wondered for a moment about what constituted life and what made a person a person. The Turing Test be damned.
Beside him, Elora laughed lightly. “I’ll bet you never expected any of this when you took the simple bodyguard job on Mars.”
Solomon sighed, amazed and saddened that the mental picture he had of Addy was fading in his own mind. Soon, she would be only an indistinct memory. To him, her memory was only a few months old, but to her, thanks to time dilation, Solomon Draxx was years in the past. He would never know if leaving her had been the right thing. The logical part of his mind pointed out that by leaving Addy, he’d saved his own biological family from certain death. He jumped when Elora touched his arm.
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