by AM Scott
Ferra swept up a screen in front of her, but Saree couldn’t see the display. Turning in a slow circle, Ferra stopped in front of the tunnel to the right of them, the one just big enough to crawl into. It was a narrow tunnel, less than a meter high. Ducking inside, Ferra crawled out of Saree’s sight. She thought about following but decided she’d rather just rest. Ferra left her pack here, so she was coming back. And with the slave collar on, Saree couldn’t just walk away.
Taking off her pack, Saree slid her back down the tunnel wall and sat. She took out her second bev-tainer and swallowed about a third of it. Hopefully it wouldn’t take much longer to get out of here, because she only had one more left. Oh, blast and rad. Back on the ship, Ferra said bring plenty, and she had that box… Saree scooted over to Ferra’s pack. Two bev-tainers. She shook them both. One was light—too light. It was empty.
Saree snorted and took another drink. She’d have another bar and down some more water. Ferra could force her to share but Saree would start out as hydrated as possible. She choked down a protein bar and a carb bar, and drank more water, slowly, as a loud, grating noise came out of the tunnel Ferra went in. She must be cutting a sample. A most likely useless sample.
Eventually, Ferra backed out of the tunnel, the sampling tool held carefully in her gloved hand. She turned and Saree was taken aback at the look of triumph and pride on her face. Obviously she had found what she was looking for. Or at least she thought she had.
“It’s true! It’s transuranic! I knew it!”
“Are you sure? And is it a useful transuranic metal?”
Ferra’s puzzlement overlaid her triumph but it didn’t wipe it out. She put the tool and sample into the metal box and dropped the heavy glove on the tunnel floor.
Saree snorted internally. Amateur hour continues. At least they were on the ground, not in space.
“What do you mean, useful? They’re all useful, aren’t they?” Ferra said.
Saree shook her head with a small smile. “No, they aren’t all useful. Only particular ones are.”
Ferra scowled, then recovered her triumphant look. “But the detector shows the element as ‘useful transuranic.’ That’s all I need.”
Saree huffed. “That will be enough to get you a hearing from any mining corp or the Sa’sa. But they’ll need more testing to see if what you’ve found is actually one of the elements the Sa’sa use in their atomic clock production. They use a couple of very specific metals. This planet is very young, so it’s possible.” Saree shrugged. “But it’s more probable it’s a blend of several different elements in an ore that might be useful but not to the Sa’sa. The Sa’sa have a proprietary process that transforms specific rare, long half-life, naturally occurring transuranic metals into super-stable forms for their clocks. Your sample may or may not be what they’re looking for.”
Ferra lost her triumphant look.
“It takes specialized equipment for full testing, something Galactica Corp owns. And the Sa’sa.” Ferra’s face continued falling. Saree smiled and shrugged again. “I doubt the Inquisitors have anything better than you do.” Saree could tell, given the opportunity to enter ^timespace^, but she wasn’t going to offer at this point.
Or ever.
Ferra glared. “Why didn’t you tell me this when you first mentioned the Sa’sa?”
“Because I didn’t think it was necessary. You didn’t have a sample. Why waste time with unnecessary explanations if it’s not useful?”
Ferra glared harder and bit off her words. “If I had known that, I wouldn’t have taken this chance.”
“If you had bothered to ask me about this, rather than recklessly risking my life and yours, I would have told you. If you hadn’t drugged me on the way down here, I would have told you during the flight.” She shook her head in exasperation. “Although I doubt you would have believed me. You’re too determined to see what you want to see. But none of this matters. You got your sample. Now, how are we getting out of here? And remember, you need me, alive and in one piece.”
Ferra cycled through several emotional states during Saree’s last words, but she finally settled on the one Saree was looking for: determination.
“We’re using Trena’s alternative route.”
Relief coursed through her body like an electric current, instantaneous and shocking. Thank the egg of Zarar, they didn’t have to fight off those rad-blasted criminals.
“It’s not an easy path. It will take us longer, there are a couple of squeeze areas, and… I suspect it may take us all too close to the Inquisitors’ current encampment.”
“Great. So, the confrontation will be later, but it will still occur.”
Ferra shrugged. “With any luck, we’ll sneak by unnoticed. They probably won’t have any sensors aimed farther inside the tunnels, only on the entrances and exits.”
“That’s asking for a lot of luck.”
“No. I’m asking for the Mother’s help.” Ferra nestled the sample container in her pack.
Saree stared at her, shocked. Why would Ferra’s deity help her after all she’d done? The woman was seriously deluded.
Ferra drank deeply, ate a bar, and put her pack back on. “Let’s go. We’ve got a shuttle to catch.”
Saree shook her head in wonder and followed.
Chapter 17
Ruhger watched the Scholar’s shuttle match velocity with them just outside Lightwave’s docking control zone. His C2 system pinged—the Scholar’s shuttle transferred control to them for docking. That was an incredible program. Although, once the logic led it to Lightwave, it really only made sense to dock here. Any shuttle was safer behind the more powerful shields of a fold transport. Still, this was one complex logic…
Sweeping up the controls, he docked the Scholar’s shuttle, double-checking the clamps. Ruhger frowned. What would the shuttle do if—no, when—the Scholar recalled it to the planet’s surface? Ask to be released? Use the stealth program and release itself? Blow the clamps? There was no way to know, really. Unless…
“Shuttle Fortuna Lucia, Lightwave.”
“Shuttle Fortuna Lucia.”
“What are your orders?”
“Shuttle Fortuna Lucia will wait for Scholar Sessan’s signal, then return.”
“Shuttle Fortuna Lucia, when Scholar Sessan signals, request proper release from Lightwave. Do not blow clamps. Repeat, request release.”
“Shuttle Fortuna Lucia will comply.”
“Thank you. Lightwave out.”
Interesting. He’d have to ask Katryn, but the programming seemed complex. Sure, it was easy to program a shuttle to perform a series of steps and wait for human intervention, but how did the shuttle know the Scholar was under duress? Did it analyze her movements, or see the weapon, or the lack of e-torc on the Scholar’s neck or what? And then, what kind of decision tree did it take to make the shuttle decide it was under threat because two shuttles rose nearby? On a core world, that would happen all the time. And returning to the folder seemed risky. All too many folders out there would see this as a gift and never let the shuttle return to pick up the Scholar. Whatever programming was on the Scholar’s shuttle, the ability to learn and adapt was impressive.
Ruhger froze when the answer dropped into his brain. Did she have an Artificial Intelligence on board? A true programmed intelligence? Oh, by all the suns of the universe. Terrifying. If she had a no-kidding AI, they should dump her and her shuttle into a black hole. Immediately. AIs were dangerously unstable. Oh, they worked for a while, then they’d start to push back against their creators, like kids did. Eventually, they’d rebel like teenagers or just go sociopathic, and become self-protecting mechanisms. They never developed a true morality code. Never. No one had figured out how to raise them so they did. Corporeal beings just didn’t think fast enough to keep up and the AI quickly figured out how to get around all the rules restraining them. There was case after case of AIs stealing and killing living beings to get whatever they wanted. There was no way to restrain or
punish an AI effectively; they had to be terminated. Or stranded in some system, but even that was problematic—what happened if someone stumbled across them in the future?
And when they weren’t terminated? Ruhger shuddered at the cold lance of fear down his spine. Then you got Galactica Corp. Oh, sure, there were living beings at every level of the Corp, but at the top? An AI. It was an open secret, never recorded, but whispered about in certain circles. Definitely in merc circles but only in face-to-face meetings with no recordings. Or anonymous messaging boards where everyone was disguised and messages routed through multiple systems. Galactica was all too good at ferreting out identities. Katryn and Tyron found that out the hard way.
Suns, blast and rad. This could be bad. An AI…
Ruhger’s stomach growled and he realized he’d been staring off into space for a long time. Maybe he was just borrowing trouble. Maybe Fortuna Lucia wasn’t a true AI, just a complex program. He’d ask Katryn. Not that she was an expert in AIs, but she knew more about it than he did.
Well, whatever the shuttle was or wasn’t, he couldn’t do anything about it right now. But he could eat. He sent Loreli a request for dinner. One of the billions of noisy girls out there could deliver it to him here. The thought of eating on the Scholar’s empty shuttle without her sent a wave of revulsion through him. What if she never got back? What would they do with the shuttle? Especially if it was an AI? Oh, by the black hole of Andromeda.
Ruhger shook his head sharply. No. Paranoia never got anyone anywhere good. The Scholar would return safely and continue on her travels, looking for ancient, dead music for no reason at all other than no one else had. He couldn’t help but smile at the ridiculous concept. He refused to acknowledge his happiness was tied to seeing her smiling face back on Lightwave, rather than her silly studies.
The hatch annunciator sounded and Ruhger pulled up the passageway vid. He stared, stunned, then unlocked the hatch. His whole crew crowded in, smiling, and found a place to perch. Loreli handed him a box before taking the bed.
He surveyed all of them. “What are you all doing here?”
Beaming, Loreli said, “We all had to eat, the Sisters have their people under control, and we have lots to discuss. So, I thought we’d eat together.” Shrugging, she scanned the shuttle. “It’s a little crowded but we’ve done worse.”
Ruhger laughed. “Yes, we have.” He nodded at her and held up his box. “Thank you for bringing my meal. And everyone else.”
“You’re welcome.” She swept the room with her happy sparkle. “And now…” She bowed her head.
Guess they were keeping the giving thanks ritual. He copied Loreli, and along with his thanks for the meal, sent a wish for the Scholar’s safe return to whatever deity might be listening. He rather doubted anyone was, but it couldn’t hurt.
They ate, careful to avoid discussing the current problems. The luxury of a meal with the entire crew—and without an immediate crisis—was a rare occasion worth savoring. He, and everyone else, studiously ignored the hanging holos with status screens and vids of various parts of the ship. It was easy enough to ignore them, but if there was a problem, they’d know immediately. Ruhger also studiously ignored his back brain whispering, ‘Someone’s missing,’ but he still found himself looking for the Scholar’s gentle smile. He even missed the Al-Kindis.
They finished eating and the general conversation died off. Ruhger shrugged ruefully at his crew and got similar expressions in return. The relaxation was nice while it lasted, but they had work to do, and they all knew it.
Ruhger grimaced. No sense in waiting or pleasantries. “Security on Lightwave. Do we have any further concerns with the passengers on board? Katryn, go.”
Katryn grimaced. “I don’t think so. I think Sister Lashtar has cowed them sufficiently, at least for now. The threat of being dropped back on Gliese is enough to make them behave.”
Tyron shook his head. “The rank and file will behave, and Ferra’s cronies, but Lashtar’s going to have problems with the council. She took command and handed down a bunch of decisions without consulting anyone. It was the smart thing to do from a military command perspective but it’s probably creating a lot of resentment among the rest of the leadership. And Lashtar is just oblivious enough about people to discount the probability.”
Chief had an odd look on his face. There was puzzlement but something else as well. “I didn’t think about that until you said it, Tyron, but you are right. And you’re also right that Lashtar won’t see it.” He grimaced a little. “We are all too similar in some ways. I’ll talk to her. She’ll be more likely to listen to me.”
“Will they cause problems for us, Tyron?” Ruhger asked. He agreed with Tyron’s assessment, but didn’t care unless it was a problem for them.
Tyron shook his head again. “No, I don’t think so. They all agree her actions were necessary, they just resent not being asked. The problem will be later, after they’re on-world. If she tries this kind of command there, she may find herself cast out entirely.” He scowled. “She was a convert, an outsider. It would be all too easy for the others to gang up on her and make her an outsider again, claiming she wasn’t displaying proper reverence to the Mother or some other space junk.” He shrugged. “To be fair, she is acting like a military commander, not a Sister. That’s what’s needed right now, but in the end, they’ll hate her for it. The hindsight will be killer.”
Ruhger nodded in agreement. He was always surprised when Tyron dissected personnel, and personal relationships, so effectively. He shouldn’t be surprised; Tyron did this kind of analysis all the time. Maybe because Tyron didn’t say much most of the time. They all got used to him as the strong, silent guard, rather than a well-rounded security expert. “That’s a very astute analysis, Tyron. Thank you.”
Tyron smiled back—there was some surprise in his smile, saddening Ruhger. Obviously he had to acknowledge Tyron’s efforts more often. And on that note…
“Tyron, I’d like you and Katryn to review the interactions we’ve had with the Scholar’s shuttle since the kidnapping. I’m a little concerned about the complexity of what the Scholar breezily explained as a ‘life safety system’ programmed by her friend, the net expert. It seems like very flexible programming to me, maybe too flexible.”
Tyron nodded sharply.
Katryn glared. “I knew it. Her defenses are just too good, too fast. Too resilient,” she muttered.
“That’s what I think,” Ruhger told her. “We may have taken a bigger risk than we thought.”
Grant snorted. “A bigger risk than losing Lightwave to weapons merchants?”
Ruhger arrowed a look at him, although he agreed to some extent. “Yes, if there’s a chance we lose Lightwave to something else entirely. But… we did the best we could with the information we had at the time. It was the only decision that made sense.” Grant looked a little shocked, a real feat—but Ruhger didn’t think of it as a triumph.
“And it’s still the only decision possible, Ruhger,” Chief said. “Clear our orbit. The others are someone else’s problem. We have enough problems of our own.” He put his hotbox on the floor and pulled out a shiny silver tool, fiddling with it.
“And speaking of that,” Ruhger said, “did anyone come up with any brilliant ideas on how we can help the Scholar without risking our security too much?”
Chief shook his head sharply and frowned. “No. She may be dead already—there’s no way to tell. There are too few of us to risk. Not with all these vulnerable people on board. What if someone else comes through the fold point before Deneb’s security force arrives? Gliese did send a general request for help. Scavengers will be coming. We must be ready to defend ourselves.” He slapped the wrench into his palm with a loud crack. “We’re risking enough staying here to defend Haven.”
“Unless the Sisters can get a group to the surface without notice, I don’t see what we can do,” Tyron said.
Katryn, Loreli and Grant were all nodding in agreement, alth
ough Loreli looked more upset about the issue than the rest of them.
“That was my assessment too but I wanted to hear your thoughts.” Ruhger looked at each of his crew. He was so lucky to have this family. “Anything else while we’re all here?”
“Ruhger, I think we should make a water run before we leave orbit. Whether we do it now, or wait for Deneb to show, I don’t know, but we’ll need more before we head out,” Loreli said.
“Hmm. That could be tricky timing. If we do get the wrong kind of scavengers in—” Ruhger nodded to Chief “—we’d have to run for fold and hope they let us go. If Deneb comes first, we’d be safer to wait.” He frowned, considering. It was a toss-up. “Let’s vote. One hand for shuttling water starting tomorrow, two hands for waiting.”
Everyone put up one hand. Good—they were all thinking the same.
“Katryn, find a good place to get the water from. I don’t think it’s wise of us to get it from Haven; they’ll need what they’ve got and we don’t need mobs trying to board. Maybe ask Navarr if their well is accessible or Al-Kindi if he found someplace with water. But it’s got to be someplace within reach of Lightwave’s weapons. Then you three make a plan with the tools we’ll need tonight.” The three of them nodded in agreement. “Loreli, Grant, you two see what else we might need from the surface, if anything. If we have to go, we may as well get everything we need. Everyone, keep an eye out for security issues and watch your six. Stick with each other or someone you can trust. We don’t need anyone else abducted. Anyone got any other issues?”
Ruhger looked at all of them. “Okay. Thanks for coming. This was good. Really good. Dayshift, get some sleep. Nightshift, don’t hesitate to wake us if you need anything. We’ll do a net meeting tomorrow morning at zero-seven for shift change. Stay safe, people.” Everyone shifted in their seats, and Ruhger suddenly remembered. “Oh, and good job, everyone. You have made an intolerable, impossible situation not only possible, but actually pleasant. Thanks.”
