by Gary Jonas
“I need something I can take to the Council, something I can show them that will dispel the allegations made against me,” Randol said.
Sai spoke up. “I have an idea, but I’m not sure you’ll like it.”
“Spit it out, young woman,” Randol said. “I’m willing to try almost anything at this point.”
“If you can connect me with the Galactic Bank computer grid, I may be able to come up with something for you.”
“What are you saying?”
“I have a talent—a gift. I’m not just a datalifter, I’m a cyber-psi. I think I could get past the safeguards.”
“I don’t believe I’ve ever met a cyber-psi. However, young woman, you are suggesting that I, a lord, engage in illegal activities. My reputation would be destroyed if I allowed myself to become involved in such an endeavor.”
Sai lowered her eyes, unsure of herself. “No offense, but from what I’ve been hearing, your reputation’s already in pretty bad shape. This is an opportunity to repair it. The Randol in that painting in the foyer looks like he’s squeezing the universe by the balls. Are you related to him or not?”
Randol’s chin dropped. His eyes shifted from anger to consideration. He finally nodded. “Are you reasonably certain of your ability to remain anonymous?”
“It’s what I do.”
Chandler cleared his throat. “I’ve done some security work for them. The Galactic Bank has more than the usual safeguards. Many of them are specifically aimed against cyber-psi abilities. If you go in, you might come out damaged. They’ve got stuff that’ll burn out your mind.”
“But if I succeed, we might be able to end this nightmare and I could get my life back. I’ll take that risk.”
Hank staggered back into the room. “Almost didn’t make it,” he said. “Damn hallway’s longer than I thought. What’s this risk you’re talking about?”
“Nothing, Hank,” Sai said quickly. She didn’t want to have to deal with justifying the risk to him.
Chandler shook his head. “She wants to use her cyber-psi abilities to break into the Galactic Bank.”
“Great,” Hank said. “Set me up an account.”
Sai smiled. Maybe it was a good thing that he’d had so many beers. It simplified things.
Hank fell asleep, which was a blessing because Sai didn’t want him worrying about what she planned to attempt. They adjourned to the mansion’s communication center where the staff had set up a reclining chair before a terminal.
Sai paced the floor, taking long, deep breaths as Randol’s staff prepared the Grid link. The viewscreen displayed the bank’s logo and the general public interface screen. She wanted to shake out the stress and warm up her body prior to diving into the Grid. For a time her body would be inert. The more she loosened up, the better she would feel upon returning to it. It was always painful, but it didn’t have to be unbearable.
“I believe we’re ready,” Randol said.
Sai nodded. “Okay,” she said. Sai sat in the chair, placed both hands on the terminal before her, and exhaled slowly. “Here we go.”
Sai lay back in the chair and relaxed completely. She had trained her mind to enter a trance state immediately, using a mental trigger. Her consciousness spread outward like a wave, delicately touching the outskirts of the electronic pathways that composed the Grid.
Her senses transcended the terminal, moving deeper into the Grid. She began to concentrate on accessing the accounts. She sifted through the maze of numbers, analyzing, decoding, and sorting. Sai translated data into imagery and sound for her human mind to comprehend. It was a cacophony of sensation, but slowly she filtered out the background noise, then began to separate the pathways and follow them to their source.
Sai moved forward, the account numbers from the file foremost in her mind. The digits clicked off in twists and turns, like following a map to an address in a strange city.
She was almost there; she could feel it. But when she turned the last corner something waited for her. It was dark, hungry, and artificial, a silicon predator of binary logic. It recognized her as prey.
Randol watched Sai’s progress on the viewscreen. The logo screen dissolved as the terminal moved past checkpoint after checkpoint. Passwords were requested and appeared almost like magic. She seemed unstoppable.
But then, just as the final screen appeared, the image froze. Sai’s body convulsed on the recliner.
Hank woke up and saw Sai shaking. “What’s happening?” he asked.
Randol’s communications officer shook his head, bewildered.
“She’s fighting the anti-psi routine,” Chandler said, his voice grave.
“Then we’ve got to get her out of there. Wake her up!” Hank said.
“No!” Chandler said. “Leave her alone. Her consciousness is locked in the system. If you break her state, she’ll lose herself in the Grid. She’s fighting the devil for her soul right now, and there isn’t anything we can do but wait.”
They didn’t have to wait long. Ten minutes into the battle the screen went blank. Sai’s head lolled to one side and the convulsions stopped.
She was gone.
EPISODE FIVE
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Hank woke up to bad news. “Why in the hell did you let her try it?”
Everybody looked anywhere except at Hank.
Chandler shrugged. “She volunteered. She knew the risks. I tried to warn her.”
“Damn it, no one told me about the risks. I had no idea this could happen!” Hank walked up to Chandler. “You didn’t try too hard to talk her out of it, did you?”
Chandler poked a beefy finger into Hank’s chest. “Listen, pal, I’m not the one who drank myself into oblivion while my girlfriend got herself into trouble. If you want to piss and moan and try to lay the blame on someone, why don’t you take a look in the mirror first? Maybe you could have talked her out of it, but I doubt it. She was a pretty stubborn woman. I don’t think she wanted you to know how dangerous it was.”
“Sai is a stubborn woman. We’re going to get her back.” The fact that the man was right infuriated Hank. He looked at Sai’s comatose form. If he didn’t know better, he would think she was merely sleeping.
He reached out to touch her forehead. She was warm, and there was a light sheen of sweat on her brow. He brushed the hair out of her face and cupped her cheek.
Her chest slowly rose and fell. Her body lived, but there was no one home. Her mind was trapped in the Galactic Bank computer system.
“There has to be a way,” Hank said to the men in the room. They still refused to meet his eyes. “Doesn’t anyone know how to fix this? What about you?” Hank singled out Randol’s communications officer. “You’re the expert. How can we retrieve her?”
The man shook his head. “Actually, Mr. Chandler knows more about it than I do. He’s the expert on security.”
Chandler put his hand on Hank’s shoulder. “None of us can go in after her. None of us has the skill. Even if we could go in, I have no idea how we could find her or bring her back. You’re just going to have to accept things the way they are.”
Hank slammed his fist down on a tabletop. “I have never caved in the face of long odds and I’m damn sure not going to start now! I know one person with rarefied knowledge of computer systems. Maybe she’ll have an idea. Chandler, you stay here and look after Sai. Call me if she changes. We aren’t giving up.”
Hank left the com center and walked down the long series of mansion hallways toward the hangar. The echo of his boots rattled down the corridors. He cursed under his breath as he trudged on. This was not going to happen. Not on his watch. No way.
Hank approached the Elsa and keyed open the small cargo door on the side, then walked up the ramp to the cockpit and collapsed into his pilot's chair. He leaned over and hung his head in his hands.
“She’s in trouble,” he said.
Elsa’s voice softly answered. “I know.”
“I don’t know why I do this, E
lsa. I’m just a child sometimes. I latch onto things and they always get taken away.”
“You don’t care about things. You latch onto people and you love them well.”
“And I lose them,” Hank said.
“Hank, I wish I could hold you and stroke your head and tell you everything was going to be okay, but I can’t. We both know the universe is a big meat grinder. All we have are those moments of life and love and pleasure. That’s all the happiness we get—moments. We have to seize them or we’ll never have any joy. Don’t kick yourself for being willing to go for a moment of love. It’s worth any price.”
“Do you have any joy anymore, Elsa? I know I’ve asked before, but are you happy?”
“I’ll tell you what makes me happy, Hank. It’s a big universe and I get to play in it. I get to help my best friend find his happiness, and that makes me one satisfied metal woman. I know what to do to get her.”
“Excellent. I was hoping you’d say that.”
“I’ll just go in after her and drag her skinny butt out,” Elsa said.
Hank shook his head. “No, there has to be another way. You’ve got to think of something else.”
“There isn’t any other way, and I want to do it.”
“Elsa, I can’t lose you, too. I just can’t. It’s too great a risk.”
“I’m her only hope. We don’t have time to search for alternatives. We can’t just let her rot in there with her mind slowly dissipating. That’s the most horrible death I can imagine.”
“Yes, but—”
“Besides, I’ve seen the way you look at her. I couldn’t stand to see you grieve and I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t try.”
“You’d be risking the same slow death.”
“Nah, I eat plasma and crap fusion fire, and I can see to the end of the galaxy. I can do this, Hank. Let me bring her back for you.”
It took almost an hour to get everything set up. A com relay connecting Elsa with the Grid sat on a low table next to Sai. While Elsa could access the Grid directly through her communications array, proximity to Sai was important. Elsa had to be able to bridge the gap from the terminal connection to Sai’s body if there was any hope of restoring her.
When the technicians finished, they stepped back to stand with Randol and Chandler. Hank moved to the relay and checked the connections for himself.
“I’m ready, Hank,” Elsa said, her voice emanating from the relay.
“Are you sure about this?”
“You’ve asked me that a hundred times. The answer is still yes.”
“Elsa, if we never—”
“I know, Hank.”
“No, it’s important that I say it. I love you, Elsa. I always have. You’ve always been there for me, and the thought of losing you tears me apart.”
“Don’t worry, Hank. I’ll come back, and I’ll bring her along with me. I know you love her, too. I can’t be what she is, or do for you what she can, but this I can do.”
“Be careful.”
“As always, my love.”
Then there was silence, and the viewscreen came to life again. Hank hoped this time things would be different.
Brock entered the command section of the base for the first time. Very few people were allowed there, just Glenn and his staff. Brock had been working in the detention area when Hayes, one of Glenn’s staff, came to fetch him.
He tried to memorize the layout as best he could. There were only a few guard positions. Security was lax at best, mostly guys wearing blasters standing around drinking coffee and lying about women. There were a few women among the pirates. They, too, stood around drinking coffee and lying about women. It seemed to be one of the base’s major pastimes, that and avoiding janitorial duties whenever possible. The biggest difference Brock noticed in the command section was that it stank somewhat less than the rest of the base.
Hayes led Brock to Glenn’s quarters and left him alone with the pirate lord. Brock hadn’t really known what to expect. Perhaps a posh, overstated room heaped with chests overflowing with loot and a big gilded throne in the center. In actuality, the room consisted of a seating area, an entertainment holo unit, and a few landscape paintings displayed on the walls. A desk sat on one side with a com unit displaying accounting figures.
Glenn walked up to him and shook his hand. “Good to see you, Brock. Can I get you something to drink? Coffee, or maybe a beer?”
“I’ve had enough coffee to last me a lifetime. A beer would be great.”
Glenn retrieved a couple of beers from a cooler in the galley. He handed one to Brock and sat on the couch, motioning for Brock to sit across from him.
They both opened the brews and took a sip. Brock nodded with appreciation. It was pretty good stuff, with a dark, caramel finish. Not the swill the rest of the base slammed down by the liter. Rank had its privileges.
“So Brock, tell me, what the hell are you doing here?”
Brock cocked his head to one side. “What do you mean?” He tried to maintain a calm demeanor and kept his shoulders loose. He also thought about the weapons he had hidden on his person and how to get to them quickly. He was sure that Hayes was still close by and ready to respond if needed.
“Come on. I looked you up. It didn’t take much to get through that bogus ID you signed on with. You’re a decorated soldier. An educated man. What logical reason would a man like you have to join up with a bunch of pirates with dubious hygiene?”
“Well, sir—”
“Glenn. I don’t like formality,” Glenn said, taking a sip.
“Okay, Glenn, let me answer by asking, why the hell did you? You aren’t Thorne. You may be ruthless when you need to be, but you aren’t a brute, and you aren’t an idiot. You’re obviously cut from a different cloth.”
“True enough.”
Brock shrugged. “If you can be a pirate, why can’t I?”
Glenn smiled and nodded. “Excellent answer. Why indeed?” He sat back and put his feet up on the coffee table. “I’m currently in charge of a multitude of treacherous idiots. They can’t keep the latrines clean, much less carry out strategic actions and tactical strikes. The one and only thing that has kept this operation going has been inside information. You know it, the Confed knows it, the corporation knows it. Sooner or later that information is going to dry up.”
“In that case, how do you plan on surviving afterwards? I’ve seen some pathetic excuses for soldiers in the ranks. Although I must say, Nebulaco isn’t much ahead of you when it comes to security personnel.”
“Yeah, and I get their rejects,” Glenn said. “I need to assemble a team of leaders around me. I think you have the right qualifications to help me turn this into a more disciplined organization.”
“That would take a lot of work.”
“I can make it profitable for you.”
Brock nodded. “I like the sound of that. But you realize that this organization is only going to be as good as those you recruit to fill the lower ranks. Some may have potential, but they’ve never been given the opportunity, the training, or the leadership to bring it out. Some of the others are completely worthless and always will be.”
Glenn smiled. “Every army has cannon fodder, Brock. If we work to replace those we lose by attrition with men and women of your caliber, and if we instill some discipline and spirit in these troops, in short order we will be a force to be reckoned with.”
Brock nodded and finished his beer. “So what’s your ultimate goal? Pirating usually isn’t a long-term commitment. Either you get killed in battle, or you save enough to retire, or—as in the case of your promotion—you get retired by a subordinate’s blaster. No offense.”
“None taken. I have a bit more vision than that. I want to collect enough resources to expand into legitimate enterprises … well, more legitimate. Shipping, import/export, gambling houses, perhaps even tourism. Amusement parks, entertainment holos. You have to have a huge load of capital to compete with the megacorporations. I intend to crea
te my own empire and maybe even become a corporate lord. Glennco, perhaps?”
Brock stared at Glenn. “Wow. That’s actually amazingly clever.”
Glenn smiled. “That’s how they did it. Galaxia, Nebulaco, all of them. The only difference is they used monopolies, price-fixing, union busting, and bribery. I’m just doing my piracy right in the open.”
“When are you going to go legit?”
“When I have to. I have some funds put away. I have some invested. I’ve already purchased a couple of businesses. Did you know that there’s a lot of money in adult novelties? The markup is incredible.”
“Ah, no,” Brock said, shaking his head slowly. “I did not know that.”
Glenn smiled. “You think I’m crazy. But I’m not going to be a pirate forever. Mark my words.”
“Consider them marked.”
“So, the question is, do you want to be part of this vision? Before you answer, remember that most of the men here are short-term. They contract for a year and they get paid well, but they are never trusted with any sensitive information. If you start along this path to the inner circle, you won’t be able to leave it until we achieve our goal and get out of the piracy business.”
Brock nodded. He was finally getting somewhere. This was his ticket to the coordinates of the base.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
“As well you should.”
“The corollary to this is that if you try to leave once you have obtained a certain level of knowledge, we’ll kill you straight away. No hesitation. I regret that ugly truth, but it’s my personal survival at stake.”
“Understood,” Brock said. Because if he indeed got the information he was looking for, he would report to the Confed, and they would return with enough firepower to turn the pirate base into a cinder.
