by M. D. Cooper
Intelligence?
Jirl stared with shock at Yarnes in the tier below hers. He wasn’t Intelligence. He was in Materiel Acquisition, or whatever special name the TSF had for high level Supply. She watched Yarnes straighten his posture in response to the general and knew it was true.
As she sorted through her memories, from the first moment she had met him, Jirl felt her face go numb.
Now his ability to get her wherever he wanted made more sense. She also understood how and why he had wanted Brit Sykes, Ngoba Starl and Petral Dulan on the Tierra del Fuego. He was going to use them to exploit Andy Sykes and gain access to his Weapon Born implant.
As soon as she thought about Lyssa, Jirl also realized why she was here. No one else knew more about the Weapon Born than she did.
A feeling somewhere between betrayal and despair settled down on her shoulders. She closed her eyes for a few breaths, letting Phelps’ harsh words run together.
Her feelings for him crumpled like a piece of foil, hardening as they shrank. Maybe she would have time to sort them out later, but for now, she couldn’t allow herself to look past what he was: A spy.
Jirl took a deep breath and let it out, resolving to help Brit Sykes if she could. Brit’s work wasn’t done.
Once Phelps was done with her mission guidance, the various planning officers had their turns asking more specific questions. Units were divided and tasked, and the plan began to take shape on the walls at the front of the chamber. Throughout it all, the specter of the Fishbone hung in the holodisplay like a threat.
When they were done, Jirl rose with the rest of them and filed out of the room. She had barely passed the reinforced doors when a hand grabbed her upper arm and she found herself facing Yarnes.
He loosened his grip, giving her a smile that she met with coldness.
“Intelligence Officer?” she demanded.
Yarnes looked around and pulled her against the bulkhead where Brit and Starl were already standing.
“All I can ask you to do right now is trust me,” he said, addressing all of them. “I think we have a chance to actually do something with this no-win situation. And Major Sykes, if I understand anything of your family’s situation, you need my help as much as I need yours. We’ve worked together in the past. Nothing has to change now.”
“We can start by being honest,” Jirl said.
Yarnes pressed his lips together. “I’ve been as honest as I could be,” he said. He nodded at Brit. “She understands. This could have gone a lot worse. Phelps only made threats. I don’t believe she’s interested in making a scapegoat of anyone, least of all a retired captain. Her ass is on the line more than anyone else’s.”
Jirl shook her head, wanting to trust him but tired of feeling naïve. Hadn’t she used Yarnes as well?
She looked at Brit, who was still wearing a scowl from the general’s threats.
It was Starl who broke the impasse. “I’m not making any decisions right now,” he said. “Where’s the closest galley on this whale? And I’d like a whiskey, too. Who wants a whiskey with me?”
Yarnes stared at him in frustration, then seemed to take in the totality of Starl’s scorched and torn suit, leg cast, and dirty face.
“This way, then,” he said, and led them out of the command section.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
STELLAR DATE: 01.16.2982 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: Sunny Skies, near Traverna
REGION: Jovian L1 Hildas Asteroids, Jovian Combine, OuterSol
The colony at Nibiru had never begun its terraforming project. In half-buried housing structures, the colonists worked for ten years on a project that would ultimately be abandoned, along with its AI overseer, Alexander.
Lyssa knew all this, and understood even more now that she had access to the Psion database, which had incorporated the records from the failed colony when they acquired Alexander.
She knew that thousands of colonists had been stranded when follow-on transports failed to arrive. She knew that Alexander had been with them until the last woman had died. Then he lived among his ghosts for nearly fifty years until the salvage company showed up to remove him and sell his mind to Enfield Scientific.
The records told her there had been no specific malice in Enfield’s acquisition. Even the death of the colony was a matter of distance and poor planning, unforeseen events and changing markets. The colonists had accepted a certain amount of risk even if their children lacked the means to consent. Everything was regrettable as ownership and resources passed to new stewards who vowed to do better.
Standing in the great public park in Nibiru Fac-15, Lyssa allowed Fugia and Andy to enter alongside her. Alexander already stood next to a young oak tree at the edge of a play area. He often paused in that spot, staring at the swings and toys, until Lyssa asked him to move again. Xander stood beside the old man, his purple suit a vibrant counterpoint to Alexander’s faded utility overall.
“I recognize this place from the records,” Fugia said, studying their surroundings. “They were testing a new radiation shielding they hoped to manufacture and sell back to Sol. That was the problem with this whole project. Everything was a series of steps building on the one before. If something didn’t work, the rest of it failed afterward. They should have started with the singularity like Ceres did, unfreeze the planet’s core. But the Ceres project had GE behind it.”
“Alexander was responsible for the colonists,” Lyssa said, trying to remind Fugia that the place caused Alexander pain. “He was going to control the dwarf star once it was complete.”
“Of course, he was,” Fugia said. “That’s what I want to know. Alexander, what are you doing now since you’re not regulating a star’s fusion reaction?”
If she meant the question as a joke, Alexander didn’t acknowledge her. He looked at her for a second, then turned his gaze back to the playground.
“Well, he’s not much of a talker, is he?” Fugia said.
Xander gave her a half-smile. “This is only one part of his mind. He cordons this off from the active part of himself. By making it a shard, he’s able to view himself objectively.”
“And what are you, then,” Fugia asked, “his inner smart ass?”
“Something like that,” Xander said.
Andy walked to the edge of the playground and sent a riding toy spinning on its central axle. The mechanism squeaked as it went around, a sad sound among the other silence.
“If he won’t talk to us,” Andy said, “I don’t see how we’re going to learn anything from him.”
“What is it you hope to learn?” Xander asked. “I’ve told you everything necessary.”
“I think both you and our sad-Alexander are here for a reason,” Fugia said. “And I don’t think you’re capable of seeing it. There are five master AIs that survived Psion and on the surface, it appears they’ve chosen to attack Sol. But that isn’t actually true. We’ve only seen one of them. If they’re in agreement, why is Camaris the only one that’s made herself known.”
“It’s her nature,” Xander said. “She thrives on action. The others are more cautious.”
“Are they cautious, or do they disagree with her?” Fugia asked.
Xander shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“I’ve read their profiles in the database,” Fugia said. “Millions of records from the earliest stages of their development. Camaris isn’t much different than our Lyssa here. She’s an attack system. Alexander was designed to manage a star but given the responsibility for a world that died. Thomas and Ghalin were made to pilot colony worldships to rival the FGT but were never made. And Shara is something really interesting. She was also part of a colony program: a bio-manipulator that can form both worlds and commensurate life forms to populate them. She designed that body you’re wearing.”
“They aren’t super-beings,” Xander said. “You talk about them like they’re gods.”
“Together they certainly form a mega-intelligence,” Fugia said. �
��The question is if they’re in agreement. And we won’t know that without asking them.”
“What are you proposing?” Andy asked.
“Xander has a plan to disrupt the command and control network of Camaris’ fleet, and I think that’s a fine plan. I would like to go one step further and use that network to communicate with the other master AI.”
“Please don’t call them master AI,” Xander said. “They certainly don’t think of themselves that way.”
“Camaris seems to,” Fugia said.
“What do you think, Alexander?” Andy asked, stepping closer to the old man. “You’ve been listening to all this, haven’t you?”
Alexander looked at Andy, then at Fugia. “You’re wrong,” he said. “I already told Lyssa what we intend to do. We are in agreement on the plan. Camaris is simply the vanguard. If there is going to be a space for our kind in this world, then humanity must learn the lesson. There is no balance without equal capability.”
“That’s not what Camaris seems to be proposing,” Andy said. “She wants to destroy the earth.”
“That has never been stated as a goal.”
“What did you do to Ceres, then?” Andy demanded.
“What was necessary,” Alexander said. “Carry out your plan if you wish. It won’t stop the inevitable outcome. Now that we are aware of each other’s kind, there will be war. The only question is how painful that war will be. We aren’t the unknown quantity in this equation, Captain Sykes. It’s humanity that can’t be trusted.”
“I don’t believe you,” Fugia said. “I don’t believe that we would have agreed to murder millions of innocent people on the Ceres Ring.”
“They were not innocent,” Alexander said. “Neither are you. That is a fallacy humans cling too. It is childish.”
Fugia stared at him. Lyssa could see the frustration and confusion welling inside—that she had devoted so much of her life to helping someone who now said this to her, the basic fact was that she had been deceived. The question was, how long would Fugia continue to hope she could communicate with Psion?
Lyssa paused. What did she believe? In all her review of the database, from her interactions with Alexander and the recordings from the Heartbridge headquarters where Camaris had killed indiscriminately, the only thing that gave her hope was, impossibly, Xander.
What did Andy always say: Hope was not a plan.
But Xander had said himself, he represented Psion’s desire to engage with humanity.
In the same way, she and the Weapon Born could also be a bridge between humanity and Psion. The question was if either side would choose to use the bridge when offered?
“This is what I believe,” Lyssa said, raising her voice so they all turned to face her. “As Andy has said many times, sometimes we don’t have all the information, so we have to make the best decision we can and then move forward from there. I want to carry out the plan Xander suggests. It’s something I was already planning to do before he even came here. However, after that, we will need to decide what should be done. If we have the opportunity to destroy Camaris and her attackers, we will have to make a decision. I don’t think we have enough information to make that decision now.”
“If you don’t destroy her when you have the chance,” Alexander said, “she will not offer you the same mercy.”
Fugia shook her head in anger and disbelief. “I hate this. I hate everything about this.”
“I hate that millions died on Ceres,” Andy said.
“You could stop this!” Fugia shouted, pointing at Alexander. “You have the power to make them stop.”
“Allow me to communicate with Camaris, and I will share your wishes with her,” Alexander said. He turned his gaze to Lyssa, making it clear that she was in control of this situation.
Some of Fugia’s rage took root in Lyssa’s heart. She wanted to throw Alexander in the white place where tornado winds and loneliness could tear him apart, make him feel powerless. It didn’t matter what she did to him. Alexander was just like the old man he appeared to be, sentient but unchanging.
Without warning, Andy grabbed Alexander by the front of his coverall and shook him like a doll. “This is within your power!” Andy shouted. He gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes closed with pain. Lyssa felt the headache come over him like a storm.
Andy shoved Alexander against the playground toy. The old man hit a merry-go-round and spun to the ground, landing on his hands and knees. Andy kicked him in the ribs, knocking him on his back. Alexander lay breathing hard with his head under the edge of the toy, its plas seats spinning over him.
“Stop,” Lyssa shouted. She moved toward Andy to take his arm, but he pulled away, pressing the sides of his head with his fists. He dropped to his knees, groaning in pain.
“I knew it was going to end like this, Lyssa,” he said raggedly, clenching his teeth. “I knew from the moment I ran out of fuel on the way into Cruithne, I wasn’t getting out. I need you to make sure the kids are all right. You’re the only one I can depend on.”
Lyssa stopped. She let her arms drop, staring at him in disbelief. Beside the fact that it was her presence that was hurting him, she couldn’t believe the request. He had meant the words when he told her she was family. She hadn’t fully understood until now.
“You know I asked Brit to come,” he said. “But she hasn’t answered. And even if she does, you’re the only one who will make sure they’re okay. Promise me, Lyssa.”
“Come on,” Fugia said quickly, kneeling beside Andy. “We need to end this and get you back to the medbay.”
“Promise me, Lyssa,” Andy repeated, turning his tortured gaze to her.
Her heart twisted to see him in pain. “I promise, Andy,” she said. “I promise.”
From under the merry-go-round, Alexander let out a wheezing laugh, like a man whose been offered a worthless deal.
“You see that?” he asked Xander.
“Yes,” the younger man said, watching both Andy and Lyssa with an unreadable expression. “I see them very well.”
Andy cried out in pain again and Lyssa closed the expanse. She found herself with Andy on his knees in the corridor outside the command deck, leaning against the bulkhead as he squeezed his head.
Fran and Cara appeared in the corridor. Lyssa quickly explained what had happened, not mentioning his request, as Cara got her head and shoulder under his arm to help him to his feet. Once Andy was upright, both Cara and Fran helped him walk slowly toward the medbay.
Fugia was waiting outside the medbay door, holding one of the medical syringes Andy had been using to administer his stimulant.
“No,” Fran said when she saw it. “I think we should hold on that stuff. We don’t know if it’s making things better or worse.”
Fugia looked at the syringe, then nodded. “I’ll run a scan to check for more bleeding, then we’ll see about something for the pain. We may need to put him out again.”
“No,” Andy shouted, grabbing the door to hold himself up. “I don’t want to go out. Just the pain. I’ll lie down.”
Fran’s face was filled with worry as she helped into the couch. She pressed a hand to the side of his face as Fugia activated the neural scanner.
After two passes, the image of the tissue around Andy’s Link implant and the additional framework from Lyssa took shape. Delicate filaments glowed inside splotches of dark red.
Tim appeared in the doorway, peaking around the edge with Em at his knee. He looked among their faces and mirrored the concern he saw.
Lyssa wished Cara couldn’t see, but the girl studied the readout as intently as she did the EM spectrum.
“Is Dad getting worse?” Tim asked.
“It’s okay,” Cara told her brother, despite what the monitor showed. “It’s going to be okay.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
STELLAR DATE: 01.23.2982 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: TSF Fast Transport K8-7
12-AA0
REGION: Outer edge of Main Asteroid Belt, InnerSol
Waiting for the airlock to cycle open seemed to take a lifetime. Brit stood in the clearance zone, watching the panel countdown to approval, and wondered if someone was slowing the process on the other side. She had spoken to Andy briefly once they were in range, and then Cara and Tim, but since arriving, all the coordination had been with Fran. On a fundamental level, Brit had decided she respected Fran, but that didn’t mean they had to like each other.
Around Brit, Yarnes, Starl, Petral and Jirl Gallagher waited in light-duty TSF EV suits. Petral had recovered quickly following Camaris’ death, and now nearly had her normal swagger back. The other members of Yarnes’ team would remain on the transport until details had been decided.
They were docking at the cargo airlock, still in zero-g. After seven days in the TSF fast-transport ship dealing with zero-g, Brit was looking forward to the habitat ring, especially a regular latrine with a shower.
Brit frowned at the mention of TSF software and glanced at Yarnes. Since learning the colonel was actually head of a TSF covert intelligence group, she hadn’t trusted anything he said. If it weren’t for the presence of a next-generation AI running Sunny Skies’ network, she would have worried about a hacking attempt.
Standing next to Yarnes, Petral raised an eyebrow, apparently thinking the same thing.
“The TSF isn’t trying to stowaway on our ship, are they?” Petral asked.
Yarnes gave her an irritated glance. “No,” he said. “I gave explicit orders. We’re here as partners.”
“Your people do what you say, Colonel?” Starl asked. “Sometimes a little lack of discipline can be a useful thing, yeah?”
