by Olson, Ry
He nodded. “Reese’s right,” Martin fairly panted. “They think I saw something, something that concerns them more than us.”
The intelligence officer squinted his eyes. “Think Major, what could you have seen.” He leaned back a little. “Major, I’ve been here before. It’s probably something little that you just brushed aside.” He gave a reassuring nod to Martin. “Just relax and think.” He pursed his lips wishing he could help the struggling pilot. “It probably was something you didn’t really care much about or couldn’t understand.” He nodded encouragement at Martin. “Just let your thoughts flow son. It’ll come in it’s own ti . . .”
The mystery ship, you fucking idiot. The thought slammed into Martin, sending ice water down his back. “The goddamned mystery ship,” Martin howled.
Everyone’s eyes were riveted on Martin and the office crackled in crystalline silence.
“We were deep in the drones when we saw the Koth intercept, and presumably destroy a ship. The ship had no known FTL signature correlation.” Martin explained as he skimmed through the sensor data to the far away fight. “God, in all the bullshit about the interceptors I forgot about this.” The short, decisive battle showed on the second display. He let it loop through several times then froze the display on the unknown FTL signature.
The others were silent for several seconds before the intelligence officer spoke. “Major, send that signature to me. I want to put it in the system for enhancement and assessment.”
Martin nodded and did as he was asked.
“Well now, ain’t this interesting.” Reese rumbled. “So the Koth got themselves another little fracas goin’ on.”
“Thank you, Major.” The intelligence Commander smiled. “It’s in the system at the highest priority.” He settled into his seat and studied the others. “I have a thought. What if that drone barrier isn’t there to keep us in . . .”
“But rather to keep them out?” Briton finished the question.
“Or simply to keep them away from us.” Reese raised his eyebrows with the obvious question; Why?
“A possible ally?” Admiral Chinn queried with a tilt of her head.
“A Koth civil war?” Briton replied with a smile.
“Way too many questions, folks.” Reese chuckled. “And danged few answers.”
Martin’s face was screwed up in concentration. “Something really bothers me about this,” he sighed as the other turned their attention on him. “I think we all suspect the Koth could have swatted us, the human race, like flies and gone about their business. Why haven’t they?”
“Preoccupied with these others.” Chinn ventured.
“No, there’s something else goin’ on here folks.” Reese stated softly.
“I concur with Major Reese.” Briton nodded. “There’s always been something a little strange about our war with the Koth. More like they’re teasing rather than actually fighting us, like a bully tormenting a much weaker victim.”
“Maybe,” Admiral Chinn sputtered feeling her hackles rise a little at the thought. “But this victim’s been getting in some pretty nasty shots lately.”
The Commander from intelligence interrupted the conversation. “I’ve just gotten back the preliminary analysis of the mystery field.” He smiled. “The analysis suggests a small scout class vessel.” He took a deep breath and blew it out. “The analysis also gives a ninety percent probability that the FTL signature was NOT Koth. People, as of now the knowledge of this curve is eyes only, it doesn’t exist to you outside this office.” He let that information sink in for a second. “Major Morgan, you may have just given us the single most important piece of intelligence we have ever had. Thank you.”
The others smiled at Martin’s embarrassed silence.
31: A Walk On the Wild Side
Martin slouched in a recliner in the yacht’s main lounge smiling as Maria and Prowler played on the couch. She’d scratch the leather seat and Prowler would pounce on her hand in mock viciousness until she rolled him over and scratched his stomach. After a few seconds of that he’d jump up, stroll to the opposite end of the couch radiating an ‘I guess I showed her attitude’ and start grooming. Maria would wait a few seconds and start scratching the seat again. Prowler’s eyes would slowly get bigger until he couldn’t stand it anymore and pounce again. My fierce jungle cat. Martin smiled at the thought, trying to make it coexist with the memories of the hard bitten AI he really was.
Someone signaled for admittance. “Come on in.” Martin laughed without looking up, expecting Reese.
“Why aren’t you fucking dead?”
“Alysis,” Martin laughed in recognition before he even looked up. “There ain’t been a Koth born yet that could take me out.”
“Yeah right,” she laughed. “I keep forgetting.” She softened and smiled down on Prowler. “Thanks for keeping my man alive, Sweetie.” She looked over at Maria. “Captain Alysis Hayes.”
Maria gave her a cool stare for a second before answering. “Specialist Maria Schiller.”
“Captain is it?” Martin gave her a wide smile. “Congratulations.”
“Ahhh hell, they’ll promote anybody that survives out here more than a month,” Alysis laughed. “You know that.”
“I hear your new tincan’s a real kick in the butt.” Martin winked.
“It’ll do the job.” She grew serious for a second. “Son-of-a-bitch really packs a punch . . . but the recycle time sucks.” Then laughed, “If they survive the first shot I don’t think I’d want to fuck with them anyway.”
“I think I just better go.” Maria stated icily, glaring at Alysis then Martin.
“Oh cool your jets,” Alysis groused. “I’m not interested in stealing your man.”
The statement was met with a ‘Do I look that stupid?’, stare from Maria.
Alysis’s face hardened, “Honey, you’re much more my type than he is.” Everything froze on the yacht lounge. “I can’t believe I just said that.” Alysis sighed, closing her eyes.
“Nether can I.” Martin’s voice was cold.
“Oh boy, me and my big mouth,” Alysis grimaced. “Time out, everybody take five. Maria, sit down please.” She asked softly. “Please.” She nodded at the couch. Maria sat. A little of Alysis’s brassiness returned. “Ok, what I’m going to show you guys doesn’t leave this room or I’ll force a second level on you and kick your ass.”
Alysis’s form shifted to a nondescript middle aged man. “I was born Alex Hayes.” He said in a pleasant quiet voice. “And for forty some odd years that’s who I was. Then a few years ago a Koth missile barrage turned the Federation heavy cruiser Ulysses into a derelict . . . and a simple records clerk into a warborg.”
“But why Alysis?” Martin sputtered in confusion.
Alex turned a little red, then he gave them the relaxed smile of someone relieved of a great burden. “Do you realize what a dream being a cyborg is to a transsexual or a cross dresser,” He blurted.
Martin and Maria just stared for a moment trying to grasp what they were being told. Maria recovered first.
“I guess I just never really thought about it.” Maria sputtered.
“I guess I just don’t understand why it would be such a big deal to be a cyborg.” Martin shook his head in mystery.
“Well,” Alex started, then laughed. “Because I can go from being just plain old Alex . . . to Wonder Woman.” His form shifted back to Alysis, but she was complete with a Wonder Woman costume. She waved her cape with a flourish.
Martin and Maria sat in stunned silence for a moment, then Maria sputtered, “Oh . . . my . . .gawd” in amusement as Martin doubled over in laughter.
“Alysis, Alex, oh whatever.” Martin laughed trying to regain his composure.
“Alysis, please.” Alysis requested pointedly, then continued softly. “That’s all I’m known as, except to a very few friends.” Her offer wasn’t missed by the other two.
“Alysis it is,” Maria smiled. “Nice to meet you, Alysis.”
>
“Here, here.” Martin chuckled.
“Thank you,” Alysis replied quietly as she shifted back into uniform.
“But I just gotta’ know.” Martin grinned at Alysis. “When your Alysis are you really a he or a she?”
“I’m more woman than you’ll ever know.” Alysis winked at Martin. “The ultimate disguise.”
“Is that possible?” Maria asked looking Alysis up and down.
Alysis turned more serious. “Why of course it is. We all have the same brain, it’s just wired into our bodies slightly different for men and women.” She got a sly look. “I have a piece of bootleg software that allows you to exchange feelings with your partner while you’re doing the dirty deed. Interested?”
“Bootleg software?” Martin asked.
Alysis gave her two companions a toothy smile. “Now I know Martin hasn’t been around for long, but how long have you been in a bucket?” She asked Maria.
“A couple years,” Maria replied guardedly.
“And you haven’t tried any nefarious bootleg programming?” Alysis’s eyes glittered.
“Well no, I’ve heard of it,” she answered awkwardly. “But I haven’t used any of it.”
“Is it safe?” Martin’s curiosity was piqued.
“Quite frankly a lot of it isn’t.” Alysis nodded. “In fact some of it can really mess you up . . . permanently. But this is a good one . . . it should be, it cost enough.” She finished with a laugh then grew more serious. “This one’s been around for quite awhile, I’ve never heard of anybody having a problem with using it or exiting out of it.”
“So I would feel what she should be feeling, and she’d feel what I’m supposed to be feeling.” Martin mused. “Very interesting.”
“Sounds perverted to me,” Maria muttered, but there was a twinkle in her eye. Her head snapped up. “Oh dang, they just called me on to duty an hour early. Hey I gotta go.” She contemplated Alysis for a few seconds, and smiled.” Hey Alysis, let’s hit Cyberville tomorrow or the next day.”
“Sounds good, Maria.” Alysis nodded, then added. ”God, I am so sorry . . .”
Maria gave Martin a peck on the lips and vanished.
Alysis looked at Martin. “You’re a lucky man my friend.”
“I know,” was all Martin could think to say.
“Sorry about upsetting you guys,” Alysis said quietly. “I really should watch my mouth sometimes.”
“Oh, I think it worked out ok.” Martin smiled with a shrug.
“Here take this.” Alysis dropped a memory chip in Martin’s hand. “Somehow I don’t think she really thought the program sounded all that perverted.” She smiled at Martin. “Sorry, I have to run too.”
Martin nodded. “Drop back by when you get a chance.”
Alysis replied with a quick nod and vanished.
“Now that was interesting.” Martin commented to Prowler.
. . .
Swain ambled into his laboratory glancing at the displays of his patients with practiced expertise. Something caught his eye and he stopped in front of Martin’s display. It was the first time he had a chance to run some diagnostics on Martin’s prototype container. A tag had been placed on an unauthorized program.
“Bootleg software, damn kids.” He muttered as he traced the program. He located the program he ran the code through a database of known unauthorized code. “Probably wanted to give his beer some kick,” Swain sighed shaking his head. The database came up with a match for the software. It was labeled as a tolerated exception. At least it’s a good quality bootleg. He thought as he started to read the explanation of the program. His eyes bulged. “Oh my!” His head rocked back and he howled with laughter until tears rolled from his eyes. That’s more information than I ever wanted to know. He thought as he frantically tapped the delete key.
32: The Gamble
There was a lump in Martin’s throat as he requested to see Commander Briton. A few seconds later the request was granted and he stood at attention in front of Briton’s desk, he snapped a salute.
Commander Briton contemplated Major Morgan’s ramrod straight posture and crisp uniform as he returned Martin’s salute. “As you were. What can I do for you, Major?”
Martin mentally took a deep breath. “Requesting permission to go to Earth, Sir.”
Briton’s eyes opened wide and he leaned back in his chair. “Go to Earth.” He rolled the unheard of request around mentally for a moment. A warborg visiting Earth was against all the rules, fair or not. “Major, you know that’s forbidden unless you are removed from your warcraft.”
“Yes Sir, I realize that. Sir”
Briton frowned. “Major, that’s a long involved process. And quite frankly Major, at this point in the war we can’t afford to lose you for that long.” He noticed a slight smile ripple over Martin’s face.
“Yes Sir, I agree.” Martin’s eyes glittered in his otherwise staid face. “My container can come and go from the Star Panther as required, Sir.”
Briton’s eyebrows shot up. “I forgot about that ability, Major.” A sly smile formed on his face. “So you could jettison your ship outside the boundary and travel the rest of the way in your container. Interesting concept, Major, most interesting.” He frowned slightly. “But as I recall, your container is armed.”
“Yes Sir, it is.” Martin sagged a little over this detail.
Briton’s sly smile returned. “But would it still be considered a warcraft? A lot of non-warborg cyborg spacecraft have small defensive armaments, and they can come and go from Earth as they please. I suspect it’s all going to boil down to semantics in the regulations.”
Martin stood in passive ease as Briton pondered; knowing that deep inside his Commander relished seeing how far he could legally bend the rules. And that is the gamble. Martin thought smiling inwardly.
Briton’s eyes were alive with amusement as he considered their options. “Major,” he smiled, “we need to go off duty and have a discussion with the biggest regulation bender in the Federation.”
. . .
“I’m really sorry to hear about your mother.” Reese rumbled, standing with his back to the fireplace in his cabin. He looked down on Martin and Briton lounging in the pair of old recliners. “I can understand why you’d want to go.”
“Here, here,” Briton gave Martin a sad nod. “But how to make it legal, aye there’s the question.”
“Martin, to my way of thinkin’ your container just might be the answer. Is your container a recognized ship type?” Reese asked with a slight chuckle.
“Ahhh, I don’t know.” Martin frowned. “Let’s ask Prowler.” Martin’s face went blank for a few seconds. “He says no, it doesn’t even exist in the databases yet.”
“Ho ho ho,” Reese laughed with an evil grin. “Then we need to get it listed as a ship.”
“Won’t that take some time?” Briton sighed.
“Well, normally yeah.” Reese’s smile grew wider. “Except for one group of ship types, they’re designated and applied immediately. We can’t make it happen, but we know someone who can.” Reese winked at the other two. He turned to the fireplace and a large display materialized on the mantel.
“Swain here . . .” He studied the three grinning faces. “Now why do I feel a headache coming on?” he sighed, bowing and shaking his head.
. . .
“Now let me get this straight, so when the regulatory auditors throw me out of an airlock I’ll know why.” Swain grated. “You want me to designate Martin’s container as a ship type.”
“Well sure, why not?” Reese asked innocently.
“An Auxiliary Cerebral Medical Transport ship to be exact.” Martin smiled brightly into Swain’s glowering eyes. “The operative words here being medical transport.”
Swain rubbed his forehead. “What about the ion cannon? How do you explain that?”
“Oh, that little thing?” Martin seemed embarrassed at it being mentioned.
Swain rolled his eyes. “Give
me strength,” he pleaded looking upward.
“Actually I checked.” Briton added drily. “Tactical medical transports can be armed if they foresee duty in hostile environments. The limitations are strict, but well in excess of Martin’s single weapon.”
“Oh not you too,” Swain groaned. “I hoped you were there trying to talk these other two idiots out of this idea.”
“Heck, it was his idea in the first place.” Reese grinned, rubbing it in.
“Ok, so we call it an Auxiliary Cerebral Tactical Medical Transport Ship,” Martin tittered with a shrug.
Suddenly Swain laughed. “You guys know the crazy thing about this?” He stared at their blank faces. “That’s exactly what Martin’s container is.” He had a huge smile. “No problem. Martin send me whatever I need to define your ‘ship’ and I’ll do it ASAP. Oh by the way, when a medical ship is designated the designating group or individuals’ name goes into the permanent Federation registry. This will make me part of real federation history, thanks guys.” He gloated.
“Oh now that sucks,” Martin hissed. “We come up with a brilliant idea and he’s going to get all the credit.” He became very serious. “Thank you Doc, thank all of you. Now I can go home.[9]”
33: Homeward Bound
Martin was relaxed as he fretted over the situation reports coming from the Merced System. Being as we’re designated a premier intelligence asset after the episode with the interceptors and the mystery ship, we get access to all this command level information. Sometimes I really wish I didn’t know what is going on. Martin thought with a sigh. Ignorance is bliss. He sat in the captain’s chair on his yacht, idly scratching Prowler’s ear.
He perked up. “Hey little fella, could we fire a pulse like the Koth interceptors?”
Prowler looked up and answered him with a soft chirrup that Martin knew meant a definite maybe. The big yellow eyes blinked a couple times.
“Yeah, go ahead and work on it, low priority though. Ok?” Martin shook his head in wonder at just how well he and his AI could communicate.
