Never Submit

by Michael Anderle

  That was fourteen. Peter turned and nodded, allowing Dwayne to step onto the mat. He pointed to Craig, “Dwayne, turn your comrade over.”

  Dwayne walked to Craig and rolled his wolf form over.

  Four more darts were stuck in Craig’s fur.

  Dwayne whistled, “Damn! He’s going to have a splitting headache when he wakes up.”

  “Serves him right,” Peter replied, “if a person brags six darts can’t take him down, what does he expect to happen?”

  Dwayne chuckled as a few more of the Wechselbalg walked over from the walls and laughed when seeing all of the darts the Chinese men had shot into Craig, “Sure as hell, not eighteen darts!”

  -----

  Bethany Anne took five extra minutes once she was back in her suite to shower, change and pin her hair back as John switched places with Scott.

  Bethany Anne smiled at her friend as she came out of her suite, “So, why do I get the honor of you for this meeting?”

  “Just here to see the ex-prez again, boss.” John answered as he took up his position beside her.

  “Uh huh,” she looked at him sideways before she reached out and grabbed his shoulder. The two of them disappeared.

  —

  The ex-President looked out over the gigantic open space inside the asteroid. He could see crops, sources of light and he presumed heat, and over on the far side of the massive almost circular cavern, some sort of fish farm. While all of this was fascinating, and it was, he was also using this time as an opportunity to be safely away from his wife and two daughters.

  He was pretty sure his youngest daughter was probably looking around with the same amount of awe he had for the cavern. Looking at the crops going up each of the sides almost halfway. He wondered if there was a limitation on the technology, or if they could grow the plants on all of the surfaces? The massive light generation globe in the center sent light to all surfaces equally, so lighting wasn’t the limiting factor.

  Gravity, he thought, was a strong possibility.

  Unfortunately, even the amazing technological accomplishments right in front of his family failed to stop the lasers his oldest daughter was staring into his back.

  Further, he figured he was receiving a second set of laser beams from his wife.

  Their younger daughter would eat this up. Science was her thing, and they never had to ask her to find something to do, as she was either looking up something on the Asteroids version of the Internet, or talking with E.I. Meredith.

  Now, that was yet another reason his wife was upset. Their daughter was constantly learning, growing, and focused.

  Almost too focused, in fact. She was so focused she had little time for her parents anymore. He tried to explain to his wife that this was a phase, and the E.I. wasn’t trying to brainwash their child.

  That explanation wasn’t working so well. One should take very seriously any concerns from a mother, whether they seemed logical to oneself or not.

  “Hello!” a contralto voice called out from behind the family.

  He turned to see a smiling Bethany Anne walking up to the four of them. She was accompanied by John Grimes, who was carrying a bag. Bethany Anne was in a very fashionable outfit consisting of black pants, white shirt and tailored red bolero jacket that accentuated her figure.

  And she was wearing heels…

  “Oh my God!” his older daughter exclaimed, her eyes on Bethany Anne’s feet. “Are those Christian Louboutin?” she asked, excitedly.

  Bethany Anne smiled to the adults, “One moment, fashion calls,” she told them before she started talking about the shoes with his older daughter, lifted her foot and angling it to the side to show them off, better.

  His wife turned her eyes toward him, a smile on her face, nothing nice in her eyes.

  “Are you telling me, she is able to ship designer shoes to the middle of outer space?” she asked him politely.

  Too politely.

  How was this his fault?

  Women, can’t figure them out, and can’t find a suitable hiding place on an asteroid when they aren’t happy.

  Bethany Anne wrapped up her quick discussion with his daughter, smiling radiantly she told them, “Sorry, but you have NO idea how nice it is to talk fashion with someone who appreciates it!” She turned towards John, “Ok zug-zug, time to give your Queen the gifts she brought for the family.”

  “Uh huh,” John handed Bethany Anne the bag he was carrying.

  She turned around and winked to the President, “Sorry, this is about making sure you are let back into your quarters and me being forgiven for canceling on you twice before. I feel really bad about that.” Bethany Anne reached into her bag and pulled out a box of Jimmy Choo’s in size 11. “I hope you might forgive me if just a little?” Bethany Anne asked as she handed the box over to his wife.

  A wife, he noticed, now rendered speechless.

  He took that as a good sign, he might not have to figure out where to hide, just yet.

  “Here, on the Meredith Reynolds,” Bethany Anne was chatting with his wife, “The cushioned soles and slight heel will feel better.” “Although,” her voice went low and sounded almost conspiratorial as his wife, and both daughters leaned closer to hear better, “There are another couple of boxes with a pair of black high heels and a metallic silver pair I think you will like waiting back at your home, as well.”

  Bethany Anne didn’t allow his wife time to respond before she was pulling out another box, this time it said ‘Louboutin’ on the side. “These are for you,” she handed them to his oldest, who was as speechless as his wife. The astonished girl opened the box and took a shoe out of the velvet bag that came with it.

  They were black, mid-sized heel, with a red heart on the front.

  “I’ve seen these!” she exclaimed, her eyes lighting up, her excitement bubbling over.

  “Well, you don’t think I’d know if someone happens to like my most favorite shoe designer?” Bethany Anne asked.

  “What?” his daughter looked up then over to him, “did my dad rat me out?”

  The ex-President was about to say he hadn’t been responsible when a voice came out of Bethany Anne’s bag. It was obviously female, and just a little tinny sounding.

  “That would be me!” the disembodied voice called out.

  “Ah!” Bethany Anne reached one more time into her bag. She pulled out a slick tablet, one that he had seen those on the scientific teams using from time to time. Bethany Anne turned to his youngest.

  “This is for you. Meredith is annoyed that she can’t follow up with you on your homework at the appropriate times.”

  His wife broke her silence, “Homework?”

  “Yeah Mom,” their youngest daughter said as she reached up to accept the special tablet with bright eyes. “Why did you think I had to work so much with Meredith? I’m trying to understand the orbital dynamics of ships floating around the Meredith Reynolds.” She took the tablet from Bethany Anne and found the little ear bud and pulled it out, sticking it in her ear.

  “OH MY GOD!” She squealed, her eyes blazing with excitement, “I CAN HEAR YOU SO WELL. Ok,” she continued talking, her fingers manipulating the icons on the tablet, “where do I find Fundamentals of Astrodynamics by Bate, Mueller, and White?”

  Then, their youngest daughter turned away from the four of them and walked towards their small cart. The four adults were bemused as she sat down inside the cart, moved to the back seat and continued talking to Meredith.

  “Do you have any idea what she…” he asked before Bethany Anne cut him off.

  “Not a clue,” she admitted. “Astro or Orbital mechanics are not my strength.”

  “I should say not!” the same voice erupted from her bag once more.

  “Wow Meredith!” Bethany Anne grumped as she reached into the bag the last time and pulled out another tablet before handing the empty bag to John. He casually folded it up and stuck the bag in a pocket. “Let’s not play Diss the Queen’s inability to calculat
e the Periapsis Velocity in front of the VIP guests, shall we?”

  A second voice came out of the same tablet, male this time. “Why does Bethany Anne need to be good with astrodynamics? She has me for that.”

  “Thank you, ADAM,” Bethany Anne spoke to the tablet, “I know I can count on you for the harder stuff.”

  “What’s this for?” his older daughter asked, “and the second voice is ADAM?” she questioned.

  “Yes,” Bethany Anne admitted, holding onto the tablet, “It seems ADAM, as a true A.I., finds beauty in a lot of areas, and he likes to stretch his abilities. He has been looking for someone who might wish to speak about, and design, fashion as we head into the future.”

  “I’ll be that person!” She reached for the tablet, but Bethany Anne pulled it back.

  “Not yet!” she told the teenager, who looked up at her, concern overriding the eagerness on her face. “You have to understand that if Fashion isn’t your true love, this tablet comes back. We all have a role to play going into the future in the Etheric Empire. Fashion, although many people don’t understand, is an important part of the psyche of many individuals, including my own. For some people to believe in themselves, they have to be able to see themselves in a new way. Fashion can bring about a better result than some psychologists, when a person sees themselves in a mirror, looking fantastic.”

  “Ok, I get that,” his daughter admitted.

  She might be fashion focused, but she was certainly not slow on the pickup.

  Bethany Anne continued, “Now, if you and ADAM come up with designs that you want to produce, you are going to have to help bring it about. That means you will have to learn about making it, creating new fabrics out of the materials we will have available to us, including new manufacturing and weaving tools we are developing as we expand our knowledge of what other races have accomplished. The practical, the needed, the wanted. All of these are part of the future, and fashion can be an instrumental aspect.”

  “That is just the beginning, and we need people that are really committed to making this their life’s work,” Bethany Anne told his daughter, who was starting to realize that Bethany Anne was opening her future up to opportunities she had never dreamed existed.

  “Thank you,” their daughter answered, wiping a small tear she didn’t want her parents to notice. “I would be honored to be provided an opportunity to find out if this is an area that isn’t just a passion, but a calling.”

  The ex-POTUS looked over at his wife and dearly wanted to reach over to push up her jaw so her mouth would close.

  Bethany Anne handed the tablet to their daughter. “You can contact ADAM most anytime, but this is yours, and it looks like your sister knows how they work if you happen to have questions about it.”

  She smiled, accepted the tablet and found the same ear bud. She thanked Bethany Anne and then made her own way over to the transportation cart.

  Bethany Anne turned to the parents, “And you,” she looked at the Ex-President this time hands empty, “I give you a happy life because you now have happy wife and daughters.”

  His wife leaned into him and looked up into his face, “I’m sorry,” she told him. He kissed her forehead.

  “Happy wife, happy life,” he told her, “that, and basketball.”

  “Well,” John interrupted, “we have an all human league running basketball games every second Thursday if you are interested?”

  “All human?” the ex-President asked, his brows furrowing before realizing, “Oh, of course. Not fair to the humans if the players are enhanced.”

  John shrugged, “Not really.”

  “Why did you do this?” his wife turned to Bethany Anne and asked, pointing to the girls, “This was well planned out. You had to have some insight into what was going on.” She turned back to her husband, and this time, her eyes were calculating, “Are you complaining about your home life behind my back?”

  Her look promised substantial pain would be possible, no probable, if he had said something outside their four walls.

  He silently praised the Gods above (or were they sideways when in space he wondered) when Bethany Anne interrupted his spouse’s weapons release countdown.

  “Oh God, no!” Bethany Anne chuckled removing the dual target acquisition devices from looking at him as his wife turned back to the Queen who continued speaking. “No, it is easy enough to figure out. Remember,” Bethany Anne pointed around, “Meredith sees all, hears all. I don’t use her to pry, but I listened to a couple of stories through back channels. The scientists were all commenting in one about your younger daughter and her love of science, and there were a couple of people who passed on a story about a particular teenager’s tantrum outside of one of the eating areas five days ago.”

  “Oh, God,” his wife’s head fell forward, her hands on her face, “that episode got out?” she mumbled behind her hands.

  Bethany Anne smiled in sympathy, “Only a little, but since I was trying to see what I could gift you, Meredith pulled it up for me. ADAM is the one who came up with the idea to support her love of fashion.”

  “The computer?” she asked, confusion evident on her face as she looked up.

  “No, an A.I.,” Bethany Anne replied, “He is sentient, and fashion, I’m very happy and yet kind of conflicted to say, proves it.”

  This time, he interrupted. “How does fashion prove sentience?”

  Bethany Anne looked up as she thought a moment, a small smile playing at the corner of her lips before answering, “One has to understand beauty, true beauty, to be considered sentient. The beauty of a sunrise, the joy it brings to you. ADAM has been talking shoes with me, and recently, he has started forming his own opinions on my shoes as I get dressed. I asked him which algorithms he was using to confirm shoe choice, and he went silent for about three hours.”

  Bethany Anne turned to look where the couple's older daughter was working and talking to her tablet, “When he came back, it became clear he had come to the conclusion he was thinking for himself.”

  She turned back to the parents, “ADAM said that there was no algorithm in place because no matter what he tried to test, it all pointed out that his suggestions weren’t the most logical solution.”

  She paused a moment a look of contemplation on her face, “And where there is no logic, one is left with personal opinion.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  QBBS Meredith Reynolds - Ranger’s Section and Quarters

  The E.I.’s voice sounded in her quarters. “Tabitha, you have been contacted by Theodore Jameson from the New York City Police Department.”

  “Huh, which one should I keep?” Tabitha said aloud to herself, lifting a shirt in one hand, and a hoodie in the other, trying to decide which one she wanted to wear for the official steal-the-Coke-recipe-for-the-Queen operation.

  She wasn’t sure how Barnabas was justifying this effort as a Queen’s Ranger, a law abiding occupation, with stealing a secret Coke recipe. But what the hell. They were taking the recipe out of the solar system, so she didn’t expect it to cut into Coke’s profits any.

  Finally, her mind caught up with Meredith’s interruption, and she looked towards her video monitor, “Hey!”

  “Yes?” the E.I. replied.

  “Who are you talking about again?”

  “Detective Theodore Jameson.”

  “What does he want with me?”

  “ADAM asked me to let you know he has sent a few messages out on the Internet using your old New York City Vigilante name.”

  “How do we know it’s Ted?” She asked as she stripped out of her shirt and slid on both the shirt she had been holding and the hoodie over it.

  “ADAM traced the routing back to his machine, and found a TQB_read_me.txt file on his computer.”

  “Pretty damned sneaky of him,” Tabitha murmured as she grabbed her hair and pulled it out and let it fall on top of her hoodie.

  No earrings.

  “ADAM was impressed.”

  “Ok, what do
es he want?” Tabitha asked as she grabbed a pair of holsters.

  “The file says that he is working to expose a group of politically important people who he claims are behind efforts of the NYPD department to cook certain computer data. The crime data is showing that New York City is considerably higher in crime than what is being reported at this time.”