The RIM Confederacy Series: BoxSet Four: BOOKS 10, 11, & 12 of the RIM Confederacy Series

by Jim Rudnick

  At least this time it did.

  He’d been one of the three of the team that had found the suspended disk down in the cargo bays off deck nineteen, with Reynolds and Irving. Reynolds was the Xeno team leader and it was his recommendation to ‘leave well enough alone’ when it came to the disk and why it was floating. It had made sense at the time.

  But now, as he looked at the vid of one of the finds in another bay on the same cargo deck, it suddenly came to him that perhaps this was the missing piece in trying to figure out what made the disk float. On nothing.

  He grinned, and used his PDA to call for Ellen Irving and have her meet him down on deck nineteen.

  He left the tent outside and went in through the airlock port and turned to his right, tramping down the hundreds of feet on path number one to where the nineteen lay on the floor. Not really the number nineteen, but the alien icon notation that they had counted and it was nineteen to them.

  He walked again a hundred or so feet, through the door to the cargo bay and turned left and went down the first set of doors. Past the room that held the various items that were still up on the walls, in racks and they were still unknown. Some still looked like they could be weapons but others not so much. Each had been taken down, and examined and it was noted that some seemed totally inert but a few of same, when they hit the flesh on a hand, some LEDs had lit up. Those ones were carefully put back into place and not played with again.

  Better safe than sorry, but at some point, someone was going to have to push a button or toggle a switch or squeeze a trigger—if it was a trigger, to see what would happen.

  Great duty for some of our Halberd citizens, Beedles thought which got a grin. Having a convict try things was certainly better than losing a Xeno team member, he fully believed.

  He went by the next cargo storage room with their racks of thirty-one items that were definitely weapons, he thought.

  No one had as yet shot one—if that was the verb that went with any of them, but this was definitely an armory storage space.

  It did however cause almost a whole day of arguments on why weapons might be stored in cargo space. Shouldn’t they be in a much more secure area? Why in cargo? Scholes he remembered said that perhaps this was a backup storage area, that it was never really used but could be in case of emergencies only. He didn’t buy that, but then again who was to say for sure?

  He went down one more row and then turned and looked to his right.

  The disk that floated, still floated, still had the amber light below that shone down on the floor about two feet below the shiny steel disk. Least it looks like steel, he thought and he went further along the back corridor of the cargo bay all the way to the far side and the four rooms on that side. He turned to his right once more, went up to the second room, whose door was open.

  He checked the team notes posted on the door—any door that the Xeno team went through after inspection within, got this kind of note taped to the door.

  This note said that it had been inspected just yesterday, by Scholes and Hartford and that it looked like artifacts that were non-weapons in nature. There were, as one might assume by knowing how the aliens counted, thirty-one of each of the objects. Filters was the noun that was used, but Beedles thought that he had an alternate answer.

  He entered the room and found Irving sitting on the floor using her tablet and she held up a hand to stop him from talking for a moment as she finished her conversation.

  “Okay, Professor Reynolds—I’ll tell Beedles because he’s here with me—but doesn’t sound like a biggie at all. Thanks for the heads up, though…” she said and clicked the tablet to turn it off.

  “That was Reynolds, the Atlas is going back to Juno but will be back in like an hour…someone got called back to Navy Hall,” she said and Beedles shrugged.

  “Fine—but nothing to us. Let me show you something first, Ellen—here’s the vid I got yesterday about the contents of this room—pay particular attention to the amber filters…” he said.

  He clicked his tablet and held it so that she could see it easily.

  On the vid, Scholes was taking inventory of the various items. There were racks of others, that Beedles had ignored and pre-set the vid to come on when the Xeno team member took down the rack of amber filters.

  They were circular almost opaque glass, or what looked like glass, colored disks. They were about a quarter of an inch thick and each had a what looked like a hole in the center that had a small slot cut in same.

  Scholes counted them out, 1, 2, 3…and when she got to 30 there were no more left.

  They made a note of that, and then went on to count the green ones, the blue ones, the red ones too. There were more than a dozen other colors and each had the same number of component parts, thirty-one of each.

  Thirty-one of them all, except the amber filters.

  It had only thirty filters present.

  It was short one.

  He looked at Ellen and smiled as she finished watching the short vid and turned to look up at him.

  “So there’s what, one less than normal of the amber one…so?”

  And a few bays over, there was a disk that shone an amber light on the floor over which it floated.

  “Which means that it may be broken or lost or in use…” he answered.

  It took her a moment and she grinned at him…

  “Ahh…got you! So, do you want to take like a green one and try to stick it under the one that’s in use?”

  “Not at all—that’s way too advanced a test. How about we take an amber one, then go back to take one of the disks off the wall, and see if we can get it to work. Worst that could happen, I would surmise, is that the disk will simply float a couple of feet off the floor. Let’s try that first,” he said and that got a grin back.

  She rose and turned and took the top filter off the amber stack of same in the channel in the wall and together they walked back to the bay and entered the room that held the disks up on the pegboards on the walls.

  She took one of the steel disks down and then moved out into the center of the room.

  He nodded when she looked at him for the okay, and then she tilted the disk onto it’s side in her right hand.

  She held the amber filter in her left hand and moving it close to the steel disk, she inserted it onto a spindle that lay in the center of the disk. It snapped in and as she tilted the disk towards the floor, an LED came on on the long handle at one end.

  It flashed an amber color and not knowing what else to do, she simply with her left forefinger, pressed down on it.

  “Ouch” she said and she yanked her finger off the LED and said “I got a shock from that…”

  From below the steel disk an amber light suddenly appeared and as she lowered the disk towards the floor, it went down to stop only about two feet above the floor. It was now hovering above the floor, like the other one outside the door to this room.

  He waved his hand at her.

  “Remember that you were blocked from even touching the other one,” he said.

  She nodded and then she shrugged and let go of this one.

  She pulled her hand back away from the disk and stepped back.

  He said “now, try to touch this one.”

  She grinned and stepped back and reached out.

  Her hand went all the way to the unit itself—there was no force field protecting it from access.

  She looked at Beedles.

  “No force field protection at all. Don’t know why I couldn’t touch the other one—wait,” she said and she turned on her heel and went out of the room, and he followed her.

  Ellen walked right up to the other floating disk, it still was two feet above the floor and rock solid.

  She said “vid this too” and she reached out with her right hand.

  She reached and reached and in a second she was able to grab the handle.

  She lifted it up and turned it over and stared at the amber filter that sat there.

&
nbsp; He said “try to remove that filter,” and he made sure to get the disk in the center of the vid.

  She did just that, by reaching to the center spindle and she inserted a finger into the hole, twisted the filter till the slot was free and then pulled the filter off the steel disk.

  He smiled.

  “Well, that was interesting…we learned that the amber filters float the disk. That anyone can—at least it appears alien or human can make them work. The amber filter floats the disk about two feet above the deck. And you get a shock—oh, wait that might be it,” he said with a curious tone on his voice.

  He tilted his head as he thought.

  “Perhaps the shock, was the alien technology somehow taking some kind of an ID from your finger, and then allowing you to use any of the disks…or perhaps more too.”

  He grinned at her, and shook a finger too.

  “Now that you’re ‘in’ the alien database, can you go and get a list of all their technology, please?”

  She laughed and said “as if I could do that?” and they both laughed…

  CHAPTER FIVE

  McQueen thought that this would be the perfect place to have the talk.

  It was public, yet private.

  It was out in the open but still private.

  It was a place where two navy men could sit and never be bothered.

  It was up on Station One, the Juno space station that was in high orbit above the planet.

  He’d taken a quick shuttle up and had arranged to meet with lieutenant Sander in the small casino that was run by the Caliphate, on license, and at seven in the morning local time, it was about empty.

  The admiral first went to the bar and asked for coffee.

  New pot please.

  No sugar, no cream—black please.

  Largest cup possible, please.

  And find a server and tell her a fresh one every twenty minutes—mind you, not twenty-five or fifteen—but twenty minutes.

  He stared at the bartender and got a look back that at first said, sure Pops. Then huh? You’re kidding, right? Then he looked at the man’s uniform…three stars…what the hell did that mean? He was about to tell the guy to go take a flying…when he looked up and right into the man’s eyes.

  He shuffled his feet in his hurry to run to the kitchen to get that coffee and grabbed a server to come along.

  Moments later she came out, hustling towards McQueen with a big white mug on the tray she balanced on one hand.

  She got to him and offered up same, and he reached and took it in.

  He nodded and pointed over at the Keno lounge, and said “in there, new cup, twenty minutes…please.”

  He retreated back to the lounge and looked around once more—not a soul in there.

  He took a seat at one of the couples only tables and waited.

  He counted mentally, one…two…three…four….five….six—

  “Hey buddy, couples only here. Move over to a regular user table,” a voice said from a body that was huge and that was wearing the dull olive green of the Casino Security forces.

  Admiral McQueen looked up at him and did not smile but spoke quietly and succinctly.

  “You are a security officer here in this casino. I am the admiral of the whole RIM Navy. Your boss is so far under me, that I’ve no idea even who he is. But unless you piss off, and take up a station to head off anyone else who might bother me sitting here, you will be off the RIM in one hour. Do you hear me?” he said.

  That got a look first that reminded the admiral that he was forty years older than this man; that if it came to push, he’d be found wanting; that he was thankful that he had his own sidearm at his hip.

  The next look from the guard was one of measure…then he got a snapped salute and he knew the guard had caved in.

  He took up a position thirty feet away—out of earshot but close enough to interrupt if he was needed.

  Fifteen minutes later a new cup of coffee came steaming in, carried by the same server. She took the old now empty cup and left the lounge.

  Five more minutes went by and lieutenant Bram Sander walked in, saw the admiral and began to make a beeline for him.

  It took the guard four steps to catch Bram by the arm, but the admiral waved him off and said “this is the other half of my ‘couple.’” That got a look from the guard but he turned and strode back to stand once again by the door.

  They sat. He hoisted the cup of coffee towards the guard who used his own PDA to call for the same server and she took an order for another coffee, but cream and sugar please. Regular he called it and that made McQueen smile. Regular was whatever anyone wanted it to be.

  He half smiled at Bram and spoke slowly and said to hold questions till he was done.

  An admiral asking a lieutenant to do something was the same as an order.

  Yet Bram broke that order after the first two sentences from the admiral.

  “What do you mean, he killed his sister, Sir? That’s not the man I know…”

  The admiral pursed his lips and tried again, explaining about Branton and how it was a tide-locked planet and that it had what was called Looper services that flew citizens between the two strips of land that were on the planet on the sides of the sun side of the—

  “Admiral—Sir, please….I don’t need back-story I want you to tell me about this sister event…Sir, please..”

  The admiral again stopped.

  He reached for the Issian’s hand and said “look into my mind…it’s right on top…” and he closed his eyes and began to feel that someone was inside his head. Like the scalp had been peeled back and someone was looking down at what he found.

  Bram too closed his eyes and in less than a minute, he took his hand back from the admiral’s grasp and he slurped some of his coffee. He looked over at the rest of the lounge and the big display board that showed the current Keno game numbers. Squares were filled with colored numbers and some were lit and still others weren’t.

  He looked at the admiral and said “shit.”

  He shuddered and said quickly “sorry, Sir…I…I don’t know why prompted me—”

  “Not a problem lieutenant. I said much worse twenty-two years ago. What you just got was just about all I know. The fact that his sister—his surviving sister, Gia Scott just showed up here on the RIM is what bothers me most. Why now? What is she after? Is it revenge or just a family reconciliation? Which I doubt” he said and he shook his head.

  “So what I need done is for someone to find her, to find out whatever they can about her, what she’s up to. But surreptitiously, you understand. And no word of this is to ever get to her brother. On that I’d need a promise—at least if you accept my special duty. The Barony navy—your own admiral has okayed same but he has no idea as to what you’re up to. I lied to him, to protect him…” he said and that got a raised eyebrow from Bram.

  The admiral shook his head and held out his hands palms up like he was surrendering something.

  He nodded instead and looked at Bram.

  “Closest thing I’ve ever had to a son—Tanner means more to me than just about anything else in my life. Remind me when this is all done and I’ll sit with you once again and we can chat about the why of that one.”

  He drained his cup, his third as the server set down a new one and Bram waved her off.

  “Lieutenant, you start today. You have here,” he said as he passed over a data card, “credentials that you’re assigned to be my aide until further notice. Load that on your PDA and use my name and rank to get whatever you need. No pissing around, lieutenant, I want answers and I want them fast. I’d maybe suggest civvies if needed too…no need to tip off anyone that this is a navy—Barony or RIM navy case, lieutenant.”

  He looked at Bram. Bram nodded and then laid a hand on the admirals forearm.

  “Sir—he means as much to me-I’ll not let you—or him down, Sir,” he said.

  The admiral nodded…and they left going in separate directions…the admiral to h
is shuttle and Bram to his own up to the Atlas that lay docked to Station One above Juno…both were off and both were chuffed with the duty that they felt they owed each other and to Tanner as well…

  #####

  Gia nodded once more to the librarian at the reception desk and went down a long aisle towards the public consoles that were usually in early morning, not very busy. Today however, it appeared that some buses of elementary students had already beaten her to the ranks of machines.

  More students than machines meant that over each user seated in front of a console monitor, there were a handful or so of other students, all pointing and making suggestions about how to search or what link to click on.

  Gia walked the three banks of consoles and noted that only one student had no one around her, and she looked like she was focused but still not quite okay with her results. From where she stood behind the youngster, Gia could see that she was going to search again and she inched closer to see if she could tell what the child was looking for.

  Watching any user use a program—especially when you were an expert at same—meant that you learned something each and every time. Users use what experts plan via their GUI—graphical user interface—and yet at the same time they find other ways to get to the same answer. Or not. Or they get frustrated and claim it’s a bug, or they tell everyone that XYZ sucks.

  Never fails and validates the belief that all experts need to spend time with users before the app goes live—BETA tests work, is what Gia new and as a Gallipedia expert, she understood how users used the app.

  She watched. It appeared that the youngster was looking for information on the Ikarians, a race of aliens that were new to the RIM, who’d come into the Confederacy via a huge sleeper ship not more than six years ago. Gia knew a little of that history and she saw that the young girl was scrolling down the listings, not bothering to take the Gallipedia link, but going right by. Wants something else other than the factual history, Gia said to herself and at the bottom of the browser page of results, she clicked on to page two—scrolled and then page four…

  She popped over to stand beside the youngster and smiled down at her.