He listened as intently as he could, drifting in and out along the way, but caught the bulk of Maddie’s explanation.
“No,” he declared, finally shaking his head as she finished, “that’s not possible. There are five databases that we have on hand which hold OSIRIS instance locations. Each one is encrypted differently, and no one has access to them all. You’d have better luck riding along on fleet patrols for a decade and randomly stumbling across them than you would by digging through the system here.”
“But is there a subset within your crew that would coordinate on it?”
“Also no. There’s no way something that big could go on without everyone noticing. You’d need a secret society coming up all the way from the academy, working on it for decades, and trust me, there’s nothing like that there.”
The operators looked between each other. “Well, Mr. Shafer, I’d say that’s a mark against you,” Lorde said.
“That was your idea? Yeah, not the brightest bulbs between you MOC fucks upstairs,” Marcus cursed again. “We did find more, but I’m done helping you assholes right now. Get to the office and tell them I sent you. Have the crew show you our progress.” He flopped back on the rack and pulled the blanket over his head. “Go. Now. And one of you witless shitsticks is buying me a new gaddamn door.”
“I don’t think we’re going to get much else out of him,” Lorde said, turning back and making his way out. “Don’t worry; I’ll cover the damages. We’ve got a fund set aside upstairs for things like this.”
Erikson shook his head as they left the efficiency hovel. “Something tells me I really don’t want to know what the Liaisons need such a thing for. As for our friend, what do you think he means about what else they’ve found. From what I witnessed while watching them, they must have made some more progress in decoding the order matrix. It must be as complex as they had originally feared.”
Lorde closed the door softly, along the splintered edge. “If he’s willing to vouch for the character of his buddies down there, I don’t know where else to focus our efforts.”
“Let’s not draw conclusions before knowing all the facts,” Shafer replied. “I think it’s still a possibility that this comes from his team down there. If I studied OSIRIS operations my whole life to end up in a place like this, I know I’d have some choice words for the guys in charge, maybe even enough to want to bring the whole system down on my way out the door.” He caught Lorde’s eye. “Especially this one.”
18
“Ma’am, we’re about to break the jump,” Lieutenant Mercer announced, stopping briefly as he walked by Leo’s cabin. She was as he had left her: hunched over the small writing desk by the outer wall, staring out the small window into the infinite darkness beyond. Somehow, those few inches of glass and titanium transformed their miniscule box into a home set against the endless sea of black.
“Thank you,” she said, getting to her feet to follow him back to the flight deck. “I sure hope this works.”
“What do you have planned?” he asked. “Do you really think you can warn the whole colony?”
Leo shook her head. “With any luck, it won’t come to that. The traffic management teams should be in touch with us the second we get within range. From there I can tell them to put the colony on alert and either prepare for defense or evacuation. Although the population is immense, the atmosphere is still a little toxic, so they keep all the emergency protocols active as a mitigation.”
“If the fleet is so damned set on taking them out, will either of those options work?” Mercer asked, opening the final hatch and stepping aside to make way for his visitor. She passed and he followed her onto the deck, securely closing the hatch will a dull thud behind them.
“If we have enough time, running will work, especially if they can make a jump into space,” she advised. “Defensive measures would only buy us time against the armed-up fleet. I doubt they’d negotiate.”
Mercer paused, staring down at the fellow officer. “What if they really are a danger and the OSIRIS has a good reason to see them wiped out? What if by taking up arms, they make the OSIRIS’s point for it? Or inadvertently cause a much greater calamity?”
Leo looked over the small cluster of operators flying the ship through the endless darkness. “I don’t think that’s it; you could make that assumption on every operation and reach the same logical conclusion. Every living creature has within it a duty to protect its own life, and an overwhelming provocation would necessarily lead to a proportional response. With that assumption, there’s no reason to submit oneself to any sort of governing system.”
“I can live with that,” Mercer replied, taking in the same view of the cabin over Leo’s shoulder. In the distance, a pinprick of light came into being before exploding outward in a fraction of a second to fill the entire screen before them. The sudden swirl of color blanketed the flight deck with an earthly brightness which staved off the loneliness of space. “I believe we have arrived,” the lieutenant said. “It’s your show now.”
It only took seconds before the voice of a launch control officer filled the small deck. “Transport TCN-0348, you have entered New Loeria, high orbit. Maintain heading and stand by for landing instructions.”
Leo leaned over the communications officer. “Launch Control, this is Kathrine Conner, Captain, Fourth Fleet, Council Liaison. I’m here to warn you, the colony is in grave and immediate danger. The OSIRIS has dispatched a fleet to conduct immediate planetary bombardment of New Loeria.”
She turned to the communications officer. “Forward my copy of the order to them. We’ll make them pay attention.”
The channel stayed silent as the personnel on the far side reacted to Leo’s unexpected news. Outside, the planet continued to grow larger as the ship maintained its course. With a quick burst of static, the voice returned. “Understood. OSIRIS order receipt is confirmed and verified. Evacuation procedures are commencing as per colony policy; you are cleared for immediate landing at the specified port.”
Mercer looked over at Leo. “I’d say it’s safe to assume they believe our story. Let’s hope all this is worthwhile.”
“Waypoint received,” the pilot reported to the cabin. “Proceeding in to land.”
Normally, dropping through the voluminous clouds above New Loeria filled Leo with a sense of peace, safety, and security. She was returning home to a world far removed from the endless ordeals surrounding the management of life across the galaxy. This time, however, was different. Instead of a retreat to a personal oasis, in its own way forgotten by society’s advance, this time she brought with her the knowledge to preserve the world which she had spent a lifetime coming to revere.
The space access port was simpler than the one she left outside of Heddings Field. An ocean of concrete had been built over the rolling desert landscape, beaconing back to the early days of interstellar flight. Quickly coming in to land and disembarking the shuttle, she and Mercer passed to the breezeway which connected the pad to the rest of the domed cities of New Loeria.
The first face to meet them on the inside of the passage was that of Governor Frye, the colony’s leading personality and primary voice to the council. His face wore a mixture of fear and rage, entirely expected, Leo felt, given what had just been dropped in his lap. Their hatch had barely released before he exploded from his position on the far side of the walkway.
“Captain! What is the meaning of this?” he shouted, barely waiting for the pair to step onto the ramp before executing a one-eighty and continuing his march. “Launch control just passed me the bombardment order of the colony!”
“Sir, I’m afraid that’s correct,” Leo admitted, falling into step beside him. “The order was dispatched, the operators caught it and brought it to the council’s attention. I came straight away to warn you.”
“The council overrode it, I assume?” Frye asked, turning to lead the contingent back to the city.
“By the time I left, no, they had not,” said Leo, watchi
ng the governor’s face snap up. “We can wait on a courier to stay the order after the fleet arrives or maybe try to negotiate, but I’d hate to hinge a strategy on nothing more than vague hope.”
“I swear, I leave the system for one week a year and look what happens,” Frye lamented, shaking his head. “I agree, we cannot afford to make any assumptions. Thank you for the warning; disobeying an order of the OSIRIS is treasonous, and the fleet acts as if upon holy writ, but to attack a settlement of this size and stature is beyond the pale. Does the council seriously not realize this?”
“Do you have any way to defend us?” Mercer asked, giving their overseers no benefit of conscience.
“If we are talking about the full power of a fleet, then no, there is no appreciable defense.” Frye hung his head. “After we verified the order you provided, we began preliminary evacuation procedures to at least scatter the civilian population. If a few hundred thousand make it to the surrounding systems, we’ll have the beginnings of a revolution against the OSIRIS and the council alike. No population would let this stand, not when we have the means to resist.”
He continued, “As for the defenses, we have emplacements which protect against planetary strikes and raiding parties. They’re installed at the limits of the territory, but a fully-loaded fleet will easily overpower the entire network before we complete a single volley. In addition, we staff and maintain a group of fifty destroyers which are spread across the bounds, but again they’re hardly the number we need to keep the colony safe from something like this; good enough for providing limited security, but nothing compared to the wrath of a focused Dominion attack.”
“What about ground forces?” Mercer asked as they passed from the breezeway into the first towering domed city. The area was obviously part of the launch control facility as they were surrounded by the activity of a major militarized operation.
“Again, not enough to make a difference. We have a few companies of militia but most are staffed directly to the fleet,” Frye said. He paused and thought for a moment before leading them to a small command and control facility away from the primary concourse. “Part of me wants to believe enough of the First Fleet personnel is from New Loeria, or at least familiar enough with our situation that they would refuse such an order, but again, it’s not something I’d leave to chance. We have to assume the OSIRIS adjusted the staffing accordingly to minimize the risk of sabotage.”
Mercer looked to Leo. “It would do that?”
“Absolutely,” Frye replied. “It provides all personnel assignments straight out of the academies, and it’ll often request manning adjustments for certain missions. You’ve probably received a few yourself and never thought anything of it.”
The thought of the OSIRIS being so close to his decision-making, as well as his most personal life choices, sent a chill down Mercer’s spine. The politician was right, though; every order that descended through the fleet ultimately began as a thought within their unfeeling overlord’s mind.
“What about us?” Leo asked. “Where are we needed most? What can we do?”
Frye considered the offer. “Most of our activities are well beyond your hands here, as I’m sure you know. If you’d like to help with the evacuation of this sector, I’m sure you could find work that needs to be done. If you’d like to stay here, we’ll be attempting to mount whatever negotiation we can with the fleet. As long as they don’t close all the channels, maybe they’ll listen to us...or you.” He looked to Mercer. “As for you, I’ll leave that for you to decide. You know the situation; apply yourself in the way that will be most useful. I’m in no position to give you commands.”
Mercer nodded. “Absolutely. I think I brought all that I can use. Can you find me some battleship operators? Furloughed, retired, separated, it doesn’t really matter. I just need some information.”
“I’ll see what we can do,” Frye said, making a mental note to himself alongside the cascading operation which spilled out around them.
Leo looked over at her companion. “You’re really going to do this? You’re willing to attack the fleet directly?”
Mercer nodded. “Leo, absolutely. Remember, I’m already dead by their count. I’m a soldier without an army, if there ever was one. No hard feelings and no life left to give. Like I said, any chance I get to ruin the OSIRIS’s plans, I’m damn sure gonna take it.”
Fighting back a tear in her eye, Leo wrapped an arm around the soldier’s neck, the man she had begun to regard as a stalwart protector. “Thank you,” she choked out. “You have no idea how much this means to me. Take care of yourself.”
“The mission will be done,” he reiterated before stepping away with a shrug. “Besides, you know me. I’m the fucking master of disaster.”
***
The walk back to the shuttle only lasted a few minutes yet felt like hours. For the first time in months, Mercer felt as if his life had a purpose beyond his immediate and self-serving survival. A light burned beyond their dull and rusty ship.
The rest of the soldiers of his company were spread throughout the breezeway and the cabin, all getting to their feet as he approached. Mercer stood at the hatch, looking over his accompanying force.
“The OSIRIS believes we are dead. We have been marked off in its books and we are going to fight like it!” he shouted, raising a fist above his head to a cacophonous response. “The fleet arrives tonight and we’re taking them with us. Everyone onboard, get the cargo hold unpacked. All the weapons you can find, get them serviceable and get us ready for launch.” Mercer looked between the faces he had grown to trust over the five years of his short but lasting career. “This is not a matter of survival. This is for pride. Tonight, I’m claiming a battleship!”
19
The MOC maintenance floor was as bustling with activity at present as when the operators had left days before. The group stepped off the elevator, the discussion with Marcus still fresh in their minds, even though they had left him back at his apartment to recover from the extended shift. The casual hike back, along with an extensive meandering conversation combined to do surprisingly little to alleviate any of their fears. Erikson flagged down one of the maintainers that he had remembered seeing on the previous shift and caught the man’s attention.
“You’re back. What do you want now?” Benny snapped without a greeting or superfluous small-talk. “‘Bout time you got back. We’re still unraveling your little adventure over here.”
“We just saw Marcus. He said you’ve made progress since we left,” Erikson said.
“Sure have. Bet he was happy to see you. Such a fuckin’ lightweight, can barely even handle a three-day shift in the hot seat.”
“Just show us what you’ve got,” Maddie demanded, her stony expression enough to snap the maintainer out of his private world of fantasy and back to the realm in which they were attempting to operate.
“Sure thing, miss,” he said, turning away with a shrug. “It just keeps getting weirder. As we unpack the decisions that brought us to the order, it gets increasingly complex. For one, there’s not much mention of New Loeria before the actual determination is made to destroy it, as if the decision is that something needs to be destroyed, and then it picked a target at random. Also, the time span in question is completely off the chart.”
“How’s that?” Shafer asked.
“Well, most small fleet operations don’t involve much more than a year of background information. Two to three is normal for an action against rebels, while it builds a case and watches for them to stockpile weapons and shit. The decisions which end with ships being built tend to stray back twenty or so, simply because the fleets’ needs change over that kind of a scale along with the seeking of raw materials.”
Benny brought up an image showing the map of OSIRIS functions which evidently meant something more to the maintainer than it did the rest of the operators. The graph displayed clusters of boxes, each with descendent and antecedent functions stringing them together. “Right now, we�
��ve traced events going back over a hundred years, and there’s no sign of stopping. Each package we decode puts us back another couple decades. It’s as if OSIRIS has been planning this event for centuries. Or a century-plus of calculating has led to this solution.”
The operators looked to each other. “How the hell does a century of fleet operations end with them doing this?” Maddie asked, the first to break the cautious silence.
“That’s the thing; the fleet’s not even the full picture.” Benny continued, “Looking carefully over the records, we found references to changes in devices produced at trusted foundries.” He got blank looks, so he let out an exasperated sigh and attempted to explain. “Look here.” He pointed to one of the small boxes. “Fifty years back, OSIRIS decided to modify a number of components which are incorporated into sensor suites utilized on most of the fleets’ smaller ships. That change in design has been adopted and fielded in the fleets and commercial vehicles alike. Today they’re pretty much ubiquitous, which is fine, except for the fact that they all produce bad data.”
“Like, incorrect results?”
“Precisely: false positives, biased results, all sorts of bad stuff. There’s a known error in one processing path that’s never been investigated or corrected. Without us looking, no one would ever have noticed, it’s so minor.” The maintainer shrugged again. “They’ve never been flagged as erring out, since now every active and reference sensor produces the same results. Bottom line, all the data collected by those sensors cannot be trusted as truth.”
He looked around the bewildered audience. “In its own way, OSIRIS knew the processing it wanted to do in the future, and in order to get the results it was looking for, it modified the collectors to produce the data it wanted to find.”
“There’s no way the MOC staff could pull this off,” Maddie said, turning toward Shafer, looking over the diagram spanning decades. “Not even if there was some secret cabal.”
The Deftly Paradox Page 11
