The Deftly Paradox

by Matthew D. White

  Shafer himself had never before felt so relieved to find himself beneath an unobstructed alien sky. He cleared the edge and let himself roll to a stop on his back. He exhaled deeply, looked into the void above, feeling the waves of exhaustion begin to fade. Finally, beyond the grip of the tomb-like cavern, he took a moment to catch his breath before following the rest of the team back to the transport secured a short distance away. It had been a convoluted adventure, to be sure, but he felt a rising sense that he was on the right track and that his assessment was mostly correct. Less pleasant was the idea of the follow-up challenge and convincing the others as to what would need to come next.

  They said little as they rallied up in the cabin, but only after they were secured onboard the ship and safely cutting through the high atmosphere did Erikson dare to break the silence. The trio was seated in a circle in the passenger cabin, including Maddie who had fitted herself with a bandage across her maligned forehead.

  “So, I never got to ask; what did you guys find out?” Erikson looked between the operators. “I mean, when we powered up the station.”

  Shafer shared a glance with Maddie before replying, “The system down there, it was a copy of OSIRIS, some sort of backup instance, I think.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me too much,” Erikson said, adjusting his weight on the seat as the ship swayed. “I’d heard that the Dominion had backups we weren’t privy to officially know about, for security reasons and all that, but that doesn’t explain why they needed it destroyed.”

  “The start-up log said that it was number twenty-three,” Maddie said. “We have to assume that there are dozens of these facilities, all of which are in danger or have already been destroyed.”

  “That’s crazy,” Erikson muttered. “Why would we, OSIRIS, or the Dominion be determined to disrupt our own existence?”

  “Because they’re not, but we’re just being led to believe they are,” Shafer replied, his voice growing more forceful. “I think we have to assume that there is a force within or around the MOC that is determined to destroy OSIRIS by any means possible. By doing so either via physical destruction or through loss of trust, I think they’re trying to throw off the governing system. If this keeps up, the council will lose confidence in OSIRIS, they’ll take the power back, and we will be back in the Stone Age again.”

  “Would there be anything gained by inspecting the other sites?” Erikson asked. “I’m guessing not; if we take this information to the council to deliberate, I would think it should be enough to bring OSIRIS’s fate to a vote.”

  Maddie shook her head. “I’d rather not risk another life, thanks. You’re right, though, this should be enough for them to at least acknowledge that we have a problem.” She stopped and the deck went silent, the only sound emanating from the engines as they reverberated through the floor. “Even if we are successful, what do you think the chances are that we can save New Loeria?”

  Erikson and Shafer both hung their heads at the thought. “To be safe, I’d put it at nil, maybe slightly below,” Shafer said with a frown. “Say we get back, we pitch the idea to the council and the liaisons, and they get the order rescinded. Good for us, but there is no physical way to recall the fleet. A fast ship carrying the order would be days behind the attack. Regardless what we do from here, New Loeria is lost.”

  An eerie silence fell over the group, the words hanging in the air around them. The gravity of the situation was as dark as the space beyond their cabin.

  “Try not to think of it like that,” Erikson suggested. “If this is not the end of the OSIRIS’s plan, it’s highly likely that something worse is yet to come. While New Loeria may be lost, we must prepare the council to maintain governance and overrule the next questionable command to the fleet. Hell, maybe we can still get a message out in time. Maybe the fleet has enough people on board to question the order and demand a clarification.”

  “I still wouldn’t let any money ride on it,” Shafer muttered, his throbbing head willing the time to pass without any more undue stress.

  ***

  The deposition given by the three operators was dramatic, to say the least, but was not altogether convincing one way or another. Rather, it was short on important details which would have been useful to sway the council had they been present, but such was reality. Reilly Lorde listened to all of them in turn, taking his own notes and mentally preparing for the story he would need to present to the council.

  He looked up from his work and set the pen aside. “If what you say is true and a force is attempting to disable the OSIRIS’s backup sites, that could be the first sign of a coup.”

  “You know about them? The backup sites we found?” Maddie asked. It was the first confirmation of their existence uttered beyond their immediate team.

  “Of them, yes,” Lorde said. “But I don’t know the number nor the location. I didn’t think any one person had the full picture of the network. Having a single person with that kind of knowledge would be far too dangerous.” He looked to Shafer. “And you believe it to be an inside job?”

  Shafer nodded. “That’s correct. Between the information on the backup sites and the tools to falsify an order, I think it’s the best possibility.”

  “Also unfortunate. If such a plan stays within the MOC, we might be able to narrow down the suspects. If it reaches the council, then we may never know the true depth of the transgression,” Lorde said, furrowing his brow. “I can present this at the next session; that will give us a gauge as to their level of support. Off the record, I did receive some positive feedback as to their intrigue.” He shrugged. “The council members obviously cannot publicly endorse sentiments that amount to little more than conspiracy theories without evidence, but behind closed doors they may give us some assistance.”

  “Enough of a chance to bet on?” Erikson asked.

  “I wouldn’t go that far, since they could just as well be in on the conspiracy or feeding us false intelligence, but I’ve discussed it with the council speaker and he is willing to bring it up for a vote. Non-binding, of course, but it would be a vote to stay an OSIRIS order. That’s no small feat in itself.”

  Lorde looked back to Shafer. “And you believe someone in the OSIRIS’s orbit is planning its total downfall? Also a damning possibility, but for us, fortuitous. Not one member of the council wants to see a shake-up like that in their tenure as they could easily be branded as traitors for ushering in a civil war. I can play that angle and make them realize a pause in the OSIRIS’s rule is far preferable to its total elimination.”

  ***

  The afternoon waned long but two hours later, Lorde stormed out of the council chamber, grinding his teeth behind his lips. His fists were clenched, damp and cold, but for what it was worth, he doubted anyone would notice the tire tracks ground into his custom-tailored suit. The operators were where he had left them: seated around the conference table at the end of the Liaison office.

  “Those damned fools, the lot of them!” he exploded, slamming the chamber door open and stalking the length of the table.

  Erikson tracked his movement. “Not so good?” he asked.

  Lorde held up a finger, staring back out through the lobby and to the main entrance of their office. The seconds turned to minutes, and Lorde’s agitation seemed to grow, boiling up behind his mannered façade. No additional figures emerged, and the liaison swung a fist in the air. “I swear, they’d sacrifice the whole galaxy if it meant they didn’t need to roll their lard-filled asses up and make a stand.”

  “So they’re not going to help?”

  “Nope. Failed by two gaddamn votes. Got the standard party line, blah, blah, will of the OSIRIS, blah, blah, who are we to question it?” Lorde hung his head. “Well, if they’re not going to do their effing jobs, I’m out of ideas. Mr. Shafer, what is your assessment?”

  “I think there’s reason enough to believe that the only force competent enough to pull this off is within the MOC’s maintenance staff. They are the only on
es who could fake their own commands, crack the site encryption, all of it.” Shafer looked among his assembled team of operators. “If a couple of them decided that the OSIRIS’s rule needed to end, they could conceivably pull the strings to make it happen.”

  “Great, where do we start?”

  “Let’s start with Marcus,” Shafer said, looking toward Maddie. “You know, your odd little friend,” he continued, ignoring her exasperated sigh. “Considering his surprise to the whole experience, I highly doubt he’s part of some grand conspiracy, but I’d bet he knows the dynamics down there well enough to point a few fingers.”

  17

  “I cannot believe you would consider this!” Senator Leary exclaimed at the gathered circle of system representatives who had assembled in the council’s chamber.

  “Senator, please calm down,” one of the men advised. “This is the realization of your life’s work. We simply need to ensure it is sufficient for the job at hand.”

  Leary sprung to his feet, letting his chair clatter to the floor behind him. “I meant for this device to govern, to expunge our history of toil so we would no longer be led astray by the charismatic dictates of madmen. What you have proposed is enslavement.”

  “Sir, you wanted to dictate interplanetary relations to a minute degree. That is subjugation in itself, but that is not what we’re talking about. Without a hand in manufacturing, there’s no way for our solution to manage a fleet. Without directing the accession of personnel, there’s no way to staff a colony. Medicine, food production, everything is intertwined. If these measures are not taken, in another generation the enterprise will fail and the galaxy will tumble into another civil war.”

  The senator seethed beneath his glaring features. The younger advisor looked far too pleased with himself, given the gravity of what he had been proposing. He hadn’t known life before the war and he didn’t understand human nature. As much as Leary didn’t want the conversation to devolve into lowly bickering, he couldn’t let the idea go unchallenged. “People…want to be left alone. If they’re directed to do something, they will fight it. That’s just how we are. If the population is told they will obey a machine, half of them are likely to rebel.”

  “That is precisely why we must include industrial planning in our models. If we ensure every ship is accounted for, all the raw materials are used for their specified products, then there is no way for an army to rise. There won’t be a force to challenge Dominion control. Our machine will make the decisions, maintain control, and there will be peace throughout the galaxy.”

  “People are more inventive than you give them credit for. They’ll resist with sharpened sticks just as much as battleships. And what if they chose to die?” Leary asked. “Then what?”

  “Then let them. We will instruct their children so they do not make the same mistakes,” Senator Blackwell replied from three seats over on the offending man’s left.

  The sudden interjection put Leary off his stride and back onto defense. He said nothing but continued to scowl, leaving the room in cold silence. They sat on edge, feeling the palatable anger behind the senator’s face. “Don’t tell me you’re a part of this.”

  “Deftly, this is the one chance we have to right a millennium of mistakes. We have to do all that we can to ensure the future won’t suffer the fate of our ancestors.” He paused. “To do anything less is for us to be immoral.”

  The first speaker leaned forward as if to express some closely guarded secret. “Sir, we are in your debt for having the vision and showing the way. I cannot say ‘thank you’ enough, but we have the minds assembled to implement what is best for all of humanity. Let us do this work, and we’ll secure the galaxy for the generations yet to come.”

  ***

  The darkness seemed to collapse ever inward on Leo as she jolted from an uneasy sleep. The small cabin was illuminated by a single emergency placard above the door, along with the occasional wisp of whitish haze that drifted by the dinner-plate sized window on the opposite wall.

  She couldn’t shake the images in her mind, haunting her at every moment with the thought of losing New Loeria. They weren’t a danger to the OSIRIS, the council or the Dominion, she was sure of it. Hell, she was among thousands who had voluntarily left the planet in service to the fleets. None of it made any sense, but there was no telling that to her body, which kept her awake and in a cold sweat despite being long past the point of exhaustion.

  Lieutenant Mercer remained still in the rack on the other side of the room, peacefully contained in his own world aboard a familiar ship. As if reading her mind, his eyes flashed open, suddenly reflecting the faintest tint of orange from the sign. He sat up, instantly aware of their surroundings.

  “Are you alright?” he asked, reading the strain across her face.

  Leo nodded. “I think so. I just can’t shake it…all of this.”

  “Don’t let it destroy you. We’re doing everything we can,” he replied. “All we have to do is all that we’re capable of doing, and it’ll work itself out.”

  “You really believe that?”

  “I have to, or else there’s no point in any of this,” Mercer said, getting up and sitting beside the captain. “I don’t make many promises, but don’t you worry; we’ll get there in time to make this right.”

  Leo sighed. “I hope you’re right.” She stared off, focusing on bringing her heartrate back to something manageable. “How did you come to serve the OSIRIS?”

  “That’s a funny thing,” Mercer said with a raised eyebrow. “I think it always just felt like the right thing to do. I spent half my life hiking through the backwoods and the rest off-planet one way or another, so it seemed a natural fit to keep doing that. You?”

  “I thought it was the best way to give back to the colony,” Leo replied. “To be honest, I haven’t done much more than push paperwork for the council, but if that’s the vehicle for stabilizing the galaxy, I can live with it.”

  Mercer nodded. “It’s like that all the way down. We get orders from an unfeeling machine, sure, but it’s not running the galaxy for its own tyrannical ends.”

  “Until now.”

  “Yes, until now. But then, this doesn’t have to be the end of the OSIRIS. For all we know, the council has already made a fix and is coming to the rescue. We just need to ignite the match and hold the line.”

  Leo shrank back, relaxed. “I can’t thank you enough for doing this. There’s no way I can repay you.”

  “You don’t need to. We both agree that we serve humanity and not the OSIRIS. Not a one of us is ready to give their life for a machine but for the purpose of preserving life, then yes, there is no greater sacrifice.” Mercer smiled. “I could have kept running and played the full-selfish card, but that would have done nothing to stop our current AI-related problems.”

  Mercer caught Leo’s gaze. “There’s no way I would have lived with myself had I done that.”

  ***

  Marcus’ residence was easy to find, given the extensive planning behind the installation’s construction, as well as the records kept at the MOC and retrieved by Sullivan. Their mark lived in a standard civilian residence a quarter-mile past Telfer’s domicile but several floors closer to the ground.

  Entering the lobby, Shafer and Maddie instantly knew that was where the similarities ended. The walls were bare, covered only with faded paint that needed barely an excuse to begin to peel. Patches of sound-deadening carpeting dotted the floors between stone tiles, worn through in places and stained to such a degree that the original color was nearly impossible to discern. The little woodwork that was present was as damaged as the rest, chipped and covered with cracking layers of aged paint.

  “I thought all the base housing units were the same,” Shafer said to Maddie, “or did you not get a chance to help decorate this one?”

  “What are you talking about? This place compliments you nicely,” She replied, taking in the old and tarnished fixtures. “They’re probably just due for a renovati
on. I know they don’t have the resources to do them all at once.”

  Shafer felt a cracked tile shift beneath his feet. “Hope they get around to it soon or this place is gonna fall in on itself.”

  They found Marcus’ apartment on the fourth floor. Maddie knocked and received no reply. She waited and attempted again before Lorde planted a kick to the door beside the knob, breaking the minimal frame and splitting it open. He shrugged as the others processed the action. “What?” he said with feigned remorse. “Low bidder, and you said it was old.” He flipped on the lights inside the dark room.

  “What the hell!” Marcus exclaimed, shooting up from his rack in the corner of the minimalist living space, tripping over himself and falling to the floor. He scrambled back at the sight of Lorde’s imposing shadow marching toward him but softened at the sight of Shafer and Maddie. “You? What are you doing here?” he demanded.

  “We’ve got some questions,” Lorde stated bluntly. “And I’m running short of patience.”

  “Well, good for you,” he snapped. “I just spent thirty fucking hours reverse-engineering your stupid little mystery. I finally get a chance to take a minute for myself and you still come here to ride my ass.” Marcus leaned back against the frame of his bed and grumbled incoherently under his breath. His head spun as he attempted to focus on his visitors.

  “The coordinates you gave us were all to OSIRIS instances; they were all complete backup sites,” Maddie said accusingly. “Why are you trying to take it down?”

  Marcus’ eyes were wide, showing the opening stages of delirium due to overexertion, and him being woken up in the middle of a deep cycle likely didn’t help matters any. “Can…can you repeat that?” he mumbled, his normally solid features broken down by the strain of the past week, but his expression nevertheless anything short of cross.