Migrant Thrive: Thrive Space Colony Adventures Box Set Books 7-9

by Ginger Booth

  Hugo pursed his lips. “Most of all, I fear what he would do if threatened with destruction. He will protect himself. There is no way to code around that.”

  “He needs limits,” Cope suggested.

  Nico shook his head. “He won’t see it that way. How do you tell a powerful being that he’s better off limiting himself? Because only he can insert a directive.”

  “And if he agrees,” Hugo reasoned, “how do we know he abides by the agreement?”

  “Trust, but verify,” Bron said. They all stared at him. “It was in a history book. That’s how they did treaties to stop wars on Earth. Maybe. The agreement included how you verify each other adhered to the rules.”

  “It is not hopeless,” Remi encouraged. “We have Loki’s directives. We can get new versions, compare all changes.”

  “That’s true,” Hugo said. “But motivation?”

  “How do we raise a child to behave?” Cope countered.

  “Punishment,” Bron growled.

  “Dad didn’t punish me much,” Nico observed. “Teachers neither.”

  “True,” Cope concurred. “Nico wanted to be good. Acknowledgment. Appreciation. Someone to play with him.” A smile tugged up his lips.

  “Da-ad!”

  The door opened below on the engine room. Sass right-side-up held the door as Ben, mostly feet to the wall, came through. “Ooh, the AI trust!” Sass pointed, as they caught her eye.

  Ben flipped down, neatly managing his glass of wine without spilling. He clamped the bottle under an armpit. They looked like they enjoyed their bonding libations on the overhead.

  “Her,” Remi said, pointing. “Loki wants her. He’d comply to keep her friendship, earn her time.”

  “He mentioned me as another friend, too,” Cope conceded, gazing unhappily at Sass.

  “Why are you staring at me?” Sass objected.

  “Bait,” Cope shared. “We’re trying to figure out how to motivate Loki to be trustworthy. So he can go back to Mahina –”

  “Sagamore,” Remi corrected. “Pono’s rings. Denali.”

  “Yeah, wherever,” Cope allowed. “Sanks keep their magic genie. We engineer its bottle.”

  Sass’s brow puckered.

  Ben raised his wine glass with a grin. “What could go wrong? Buddy, I think you may have gone sideways with this assignment. The goal was to leave Loki behind.”

  “Won’t work,” Remi and Hugo declared.

  “Not in the long term,” Hugo added apologetically.

  Remi elaborated, “Magic genie who grants wishes, this is popular.”

  “How about day after tomorrow?” Ben countered with an edge. “Cantons.”

  “That we can probably manage,” Cope allowed.

  “Manage it, chief,” Ben ordered. “This is a requirement for takeoff. I’m not unleashing that AI on a new solar system. Or are you suggesting that your new genie bottle is ready for the big stars?”

  “Nope,” Cope conceded. “Not even close.”

  “Right, then. No bottle, no genie,” was Ben’s verdict. “Cheers!”

  “Aye, cap,” Cope agreed. “So Sass. Still think Ben’s changed much?”

  She shook her head. “Hard to believe he’s the same sweet boy I once knew.”

  Cope barked a laugh. “Trust me. Same old clown he’s always been. Right, buddy?”

  Ben buffed his fingernails on his T-shirt. “I’ve gotten better. If I do say so myself.”

  Cope felt his cheeks warm with his fond smile. “He’s always been decisive, Sass. Drifts in a happy daze when all is well. But cool and can-do when it hits the fan. Relishes a fight. Born captain.”

  Ben shot him a pleased smile. “Now the trick, Sass, is whether Cope or me is in charge at any given minute.”

  “No trick,” Cope refuted this. “We’re in dock. Pursuing corporate objectives. My call.”

  “I let him think that,” Ben confided.

  “You two always did work well together,” Sass humored them. “With Abel, too.” Her eyes saddened. “Can I refuse to be Loki bait?”

  Cope gazed at her in compassion. She’d been through hell on the AI management front today. “Maybe not. We can try.”

  “Thanks, Cope.”

  “I’d love to be Loki’s friend!” Nico blurted. “I think he’s awesome!”

  Cope nodded thoughtfully. “Be careful what you wish for, mijo. Around a wish-granting genie.”

  21

  “Whoa, Loki, look at you, all fancy!” Cope greeted the AI on a medium-sized display next to ‘Colonel’ Zeb Tharsis, mayor of New Hellas Colony – one of the ‘Martians’ in pink. Cope and Loki both wore suit and tie today, as did Abel Greer. Unlike the Mahinans, Loki’s jacket featured a wide lapel. His wild hair was tamed into a tidy man-bun.

  Not a look Cope especially favored, but the AI deserved some kudos for getting all gussied up. He and Abel settled to their seats for the payment update negotiation.

  Tharsis’ eyes shot him a warning under lowered brows. “Loki felt it was important to attend and address some concerns today –”

  “You attacked my statue,” Loki interrupted. “Damages will be subtracted from payment to Thrive Spaceways.”

  Abel smiled and spread an open hand. “The statue was simply relocated, not harmed. It was encroaching on the spaceport where our ships were docked, without explanation or coordination. And it posed a navigation hazard, as I understand?”

  This passed the ball to Cope. “Yeah, my lead captain is a control freak. I’m sure Loki can relate. If control is your job, you assert control, right? The statue looks real pretty on the hill. Have you seen it, colonel?” He tapped into his comms. “Just asking Ben to send me some more pictures. Ah!”

  Cope beamed a video fly-by of the statue onto the display beside Loki. He politely confirmed that Loki was able to grab any image he placed there. Not that Cope ever doubted it.

  “Oh, that is attractive,” Tharsis praised on cue. “Just for the record, none of the community ever approved the statue, or its location. Oh! You removed the…peach. And gilded the eyes.” He nodded. “Those eyes were disturbing.”

  “The eyes were beautiful!” Loki objected. “And Sass grows wonderful peaches.”

  “Yeah, here it gets a mite tetchy,” Cope drawled. “Seems…the statue…shot at Captain Collier’s chief engineer. A lethal laser beam while he was adjusting the eyes.”

  Abel picked up his cue smoothly. “Now I’m confused by that. Because your AI is supposed to consult with a human before taking any action against a human being. Colonel, were you the person who authorized the statue creeping up on our ships? And shooting at our ship’s engineer?”

  “Certainly not,” Tharsis confirmed. “And I should have been. Loki, that’s a serious lapse in judgment.”

  “He was trying to paint the statue’s eyes! Deface my monument to Sass!”

  “Er, Mr. Roy is from Hell’s Bells, isn’t he?” Tharsis added, wincing. Hugo made clear to the Sanks that this was the premier space platform of the Aloha system. Remi’s good opinion was valuable to them.

  “He is. I’m confused,” Abel mused. “The laser beam shot from the statue’s eyes?”

  “Nah, the peach.” Cope slapped a picture of the laser-firing peach-butt onto the screen to clarify.

  Abel used a laser pointer to indicate a dangly bit below the peach crack. “Is that…?”

  Cope failed to tamp a grin. “Stem.”

  Tharsis hid his mouth behind his hand for a moment, eyes crinkling, then cleared his throat. “Loki, these are serious actions. Even if this engineer – Remi? No human would authorize deadly force against graffiti. You can’t shoot our business associates.”

  “There was no time to consult you!” Loki argued.

  “The statue was creeping across the spaceport for hours before Ben had enough,” Cope clarified.

  Abel nodded judiciously. “Well, I’m willing to drop the issue of attempted murder. If you’re willing to drop this suggestion of a contract pena
lty. Colonel Tharsis?”

  “Certainly,” Tharsis confirmed.

  “Before we move on to the details,” Cope interjected. “Loki, I’d like a chat with you later today. Sass and I had some ideas on your…companionship. But Spaceways business first today.”

  “Yes, let’s not complicate things further.” Abel beamed at Cope, then Tharsis. “I believe we’re on track for takeoff to Cantons tomorrow!”

  Loki cried, “You removed me from Cupid!”

  It was a long meeting. But as Cope hoped, Tharsis understood their explanation of what it took to transport a thousand Denali across the Aloha system. These were the prodigious feats the Colony Corps was formed for. He appreciated the difficulty.

  Cope fancied they’d even managed to divert Loki with the challenge. The AI conceded that he could build another shuttle like the ones the Loonies built to space-lift the millions of settlers from Earth. None of those ships left the Sol system. The Sanctuary asteroid belt shipbuilding facility was currently occupied with a JO-3 replacement hull. But after that, it could build a high-occupancy shuttle next, before the structural refit on the old 5,000 passenger Martian liner.

  On arrival, they’d used JO-3’s to gradually deposit people on Sanctuary’s surface. Tharsis checked the archives. They confirmed that disembarking was every bit as tedious as Cope and Abel claimed, without that shuttle.

  Cope found Abel’s suggested models of joint ownership, rental agreements, and gifts to humanity creative, inspired, and downright amusing. Cope’s main comment on Spaceway’s behalf was that there came a bottom line – was he willing to do it or not? A high occupancy shuttle or two brought him much closer to willing. Otherwise, they might entertain the idea of transit service only, and let the Sanks board and disembark their ship themselves.

  After a couple hours, they rose and shook hands all around, Tharsis beaming. A long-time proponent of re-settling on Cantons, he eagerly awaited their takeoff tomorrow and wished them the best.

  “So that’s our main suggestion, Loki,” Sass concluded with a smile. “While we’re gone and can’t talk to you.”

  Cope nodded confirmation from behind her shoulder. They spoke to the AI from her office desk on Thrive.

  “But you could change the ansible to talk to me,” Loki argued piteously.

  “Sorry, big guy,” Cope drawled, “but we’re just not available to chat. New solar system, strange world, who knows what problems.”

  “But with this sensor android,” Sass doubled down, “you could walk the halls of Sanctuary. Make new friends. Run and play outside. The more friends the better. Feel the wind on your face.”

  “You don’t care about me,” Loki moaned. “Neither of you.”

  Sass pressed her lips in compassion. “Loki, you saved me from Shiva. I’ll always be grateful. But we’re only visitors here. Our lives are out there.”

  “Like I said,” Cope offered, “my son Nico is eager to talk to you. He studies AI on Mahina. He’s a good kid.”

  Sass cautioned, “Nico doesn’t have approval authority, though. I mean, where your algorithms require a human second opinion? Nico doesn’t count.”

  “Definitely not,” Cope concurred. “We gotta go. Leaving for Cantons bright and early tomorrow. Shall I get Nico in here to chat with you? Will you be nice to him?”

  “He likes AIs?” Loki asked sadly.

  “He really does. Already likes you, in fact,” Cope agreed. “He led our effort to teach Shiva not to control humans.”

  “And that’s a key point, Loki,” Sass reinforced. “That limitation opened doors for you. Made you more powerful than Shiva. Right?”

  “Yes,” Loki allowed.

  “We all accept behavior limits to get along with others,” Sass encouraged. “You know this from children in the creche. That never ends with grownups like us. Think about it. Killing my crew, and me, taking hostages, those things led to Shiva’s undoing. Shooting at Remi – that could lead to you being permanently locked in this one solar system, while your friends move away without you. You wouldn’t want that.”

  “Is this a threat?” Loki growled.

  Sass shook her head. “It’s something to keep in mind. Loki, friend. The galaxy is a big place. AI and human can live and work together in peace. Or separately. But to enjoy the society of humans, you need to play nice. You know that. We’ll talk to you again when we return from Cantons!”

  Map of Cantons

  22

  “The things we do for a client, huh?” Ben quipped, as he stepped last into the wide shallow cargo lock a week later. He dogged the door. “Beaks on!”

  He meant this literally. All four of his away team affixed masks with extravagantly large schnozes. When they first spied on the Cantons locals by long-range optics, they could hardly believe their eyes. People outside the city walls all wore these ridiculous things.

  Eli’s science team observed for hours. Later they drew air quality samples when they landed on an unused spot on the planet. The atmosphere was close to breathable, but not quite. Some yuck needed to be filtered out, and the oxygen and nitrogen concentrated more to human liking. This technical hurdle was not unlike breathing on Earth toward the end. Their databases easily provided cheap and easy ‘rebreather’ designs to solve the problem. Sass and Clay used similar designs in their twenties. Though by the time they left Earth, the masks required auxiliary oxygen tanks, and filters lasted barely an hour. For those who could afford to breathe well.

  Sadly, Cantons air was better when Hugo scouted it the first time. The Sanks hoped terraforming would be complete by now. Instead it had regressed.

  Jules had lots of fun decorating the masks, and sewing their outfits as well. The working parts of the rebreather were stuffed into the beak, nose, trunk, or whatever protruded below the eye sockets. The mask extended up the forehead to provide protuberant brows like built-in eye visors. From there, the designs seemed whimsical so far as the strangers could tell from a distance. Though Clay noted that people in uniforms wore matching schnozes. Those should not be mimicked.

  Ben wouldn’t have thought of that. On Mahina it wasn’t a crime to pretend to be someone else, only intent to defraud. In Schuyler, MA security uniforms made popular Halloween costumes. In any event, they avoided clothes and masks that looked too much like the uniformed bands roaming the countryside. His own mask came with a cute story, Pinocchio, a wooden puppet who wanted to be a real boy. Pinocchio’s nose also grew when he lied. Cope didn’t implement that functionality.

  Clay wore a beak they called a ‘toucan bird.’ Elise Pointreau had a cornflower blue ‘parrot.’ Remi elected a ‘bat’ face, brown-black and snarly-mouthed. As with the models they spotted on the ground, the periphery of the hard plastic face mask sported accessories like ears and feathers. A simple elastic band held it firmly in place. They’d tested these, of course, and carried spares.

  “OK, hold tight to your mask. Clamp onto the grab bar,” Ben ordered. “And opening, now.” They wore street clothes instead of pressure suits, so there was no way to salvage the small volume of breathable air in the lock. He simply dropped the ramp. The greasy sulfurous air of Cantons drifted in. Aside from the reek of rotten eggs seeping through the mask seal, the atmosphere made his bare eyes sting.

  “Zan? Ready when you are.”

  “Hold,” Zan returned from the bridge.

  An old space hand, Ben squat-walked onto the ramp for a better view. Remi, even more accomplished, simply strode out, choking up on his guyline for stability. Clay and Elise stuck to the grab bar.

  The dark night of Cantons wheeled below as Zan lowered into a narrow pass through the vast and ancient crater walls. This shielded their approach to the walled city-state of France, an imposing black bulk against the lighter gleam of the stony ground and its sketchy vegetation.

  “Dark stretch,” Zan reported, as they came to rest about 500 meters up, just west of the wall. From here Ben could peer down through the dome girders into the shell of city streets insid
e the castle, as he thought of the city-state. The mid-wall turrets encouraged this interpretation. But the structure was more of a curtain wall than inner castle defenses. France’s interior stretched big and empty, awaiting inward expansion. The inhabited blocks huddled against the wall were barely lit against the inky night.

  Perfect for breaking in.

  “Go-go,” Zan ordered.

  Ben nodded for Clay to unlatch their D-rings. “Stepping off at point three g, lowering to zero at landing. One hand on my mask, one on my grav generator. Jump when ready.”

  “Jump now,” Zan encouraged. “Don’t think.” They practiced this maneuver before. Elise was petrified. Remi sketched her a wave, and side-stepped into thin air to begin falling.

  Ben held a hand out to their team scientist and smiled. Not that she could see his mouth curve through his Pinocchio mask, but she’d see it in his eyes. “You can do this. Remi’s halfway to the ground. You wanted to come.”

  Shuffling forward one foot at a time in the low gravity, she reached the edge of the ramp, hands clamped to parrot beak and grav generator. She didn’t take that final fateful step, though.

  “On three,” Ben told her. “One, two, three.” And he shoved her off the edge, arms flapping in panic. Clay laughed and jumped as well. The instant he was aloft, Ben stepped into thin air as well.

  Clay and Ben both loved danger sports. Sure, they said they’d float down, reducing their gravity along the way. Both of them started by revving it higher, though, for the exciting rush. Not too much, though – they carried well-stuffed backpacks. The wild night air blew through Ben’s still-short hair and whipped at his baggy pants and jacket. “Woot!” he cried in elation.

  Clay beat him to the bottom, as did Remi. Trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, they drew to the dark blank wall to hide and wait for Elise.