“If you are immune to this weapon, I wonder if we can find a way to shield ourselves from them as well? We’ll have to put our scientists to work on it when we get back. Come on, let’s see if Jake can get us home.”
As Otis turned toward the door, Mike stated softly, “You know, I probably would have agreed to come. She didn’t have to shoot me.”
Otis turned back to him and their gazes locked. ‘“Probably’ is the key word, Mike. I didn’t know she was going to stun you, but I could have stopped her. I’m very fast when I choose to be, so you can blame me as much as you blame her. But know this: the stakes are the very highest. The hundreds of thousands of worlds of the Empire depend on the Royal Family to hold their society together. For them, I will risk all, including my life and yours. Given time, I think you’ll come to hold the same belief, but you can’t yet – you don’t know us well enough. Until you do, until your beliefs tie you to us, I ask for your trust. Our cause is right. Give us the chance to prove it to you.”
Mike swallowed hard. Was he willing to risk his life for these people on the basis of a few words? Was he willing to let Jake stay in his body for, perhaps, a long time? His initial reaction was no, but if Otis spoke true, could he say no to the needs of trillions? Could anyone say no to such a calling?
He turned away from Otis, his gaze searching for a way out. Then, his eyes focused on the duffel bag leaning up against the desk, the bag that held the drawings he had worked so hard to complete. He wanted to build his building, and the people he worked for wanted to build it with him. Yet . . . he and the plans were inside the same ship he’d fought beneath, and it was a starship. He was aboard a starship! Otis was offering him the chance to go into space, the opportunity to see other worlds. If he said no to the bigger issues, he would be saying no to going into space, as well. What would his life be like on Earth if he just went back to his normal routines, if he gave all of this up? Could he give all of this up?
>You know the answer to that,< Jake said. >There’s no way you’ll ever be the same person you were. You’d wonder forever.<
>This is my decision, Jake.<
>It is. I’ll be here no matter what you choose. I hope my stay will be with you, not with someone else. I like the Mike Carver I’ve met. Please stay.<
He turned back to Otis. “What if I decline?”
“I’ll be forced to find a replacement body for Jake.” He tilted his head to study Mike’s reaction to his next words. “Let there be no misunderstanding between us, Mike. I need your help, and I’m asking for your help, but from this point forward there will be no turning back. What we ask of you requires your best effort, and that effort must be given willingly.”
“You ask much, Otis.”
“I do. I ask for everything that you are.”
Mike stared at the Great Cat. Everything that you are. He barely knew these people or their cause. Otis asked too much. Yet if what Otis said was true, the fate of billions or trillions rested in the balance. Could he look himself in the mirror if he turned his back on such a cause? He knew he couldn’t, so where did that leave him?
His eyes refocused on Otis. “You ask far too much, my friend.”
“I know. The Empire always asks too much of those who are willing to give. It takes no less than that to hold it all together, which is Daughter’s job. She has given more than most, far more. The Empire has demanded everything that she is, and she has delivered time and time again. The Empire is a better place because of her. I’m part of her team, Mike. Will you join us? Can you not join us?”
Mike blinked. Otis had seen to the heart of his issue. It was not would he join them, it was could he not join them. He could not turn his back on the needs of billions or trillions of people, alien or otherwise.
“Do you have any enlistment papers or anything?”
Otis’ lips lifted into a feral grin. “You have chosen twice now to help us. Thank you. I knew you would.”
He led Mike and Jake through corridors until reaching the “central shaft.” Without hesitation he stepped out into empty space, a space far enough across to hold five or six men shoulder to shoulder. Otis began rising, still talking as if nothing was out of the ordinary. Mike leaned out into the shaft to watch as the cat rose out of sight. He felt an upward tugging on his body, but he could not bring himself to take the next step.
>Come on, Mike. You’ll be fine, I promise!< Jake implored.
>Give me a break, Jake. There’s no way I’m stepping out into that hole. Where are the stairs?<
>Use your head, Man. You’re not an ignorant savage. Try it. Maybe you’ll like it.<
>The stairs, Jake. Show me the stairs.<
Jake balked at the command. Stalemate again. Soon enough, Otis returned and took Mike by the arm with a firm grip. Without explanation or hesitation, he simply stepped with Mike into the shaft, talking all the while as if nothing out of the ordinary was taking place.
They rose, passing other decks on the way. Mike had known intuitively that he would not plummet to the bottom of the ship, but the feeling of rising on nothing but air was disconcerting to say the least. The shaft seemed to be divided into two halves, one going up and the other down. He guessed at that, but he could feel an invisible partition running down the middle of the shaft when he stretched his arm out, almost like he was pushing against thick air. He probably could force his way through it, but he knew instinctively that such experimentation was for another day.
Pointing down past their feet, Otis explained that the shaft ended at the lower gun port, a small blister attached to the bottom of the ship. The upper gun port, at the top of the shaft and directly above the bridge, filled the top blister. Both gun ports, operated remotely by gunners from the bridge or manually by gunners stationed at the guns themselves, held two lasers each and had overlapping fields of fire, so there were no blind spots the gunners could not reach.
The first thing Mike noticed as the bridge came into view was the ceiling, or more accurately, a large view screen on the ceiling. As more of the room came into view, he discovered more view screens covering the walls. When he stepped from the central shaft onto the bridge, he looked around, counting ten screens encircling the room. Clustered near the center of the room was a semicircular row of vacant work stations.
Otis continued his lecture. “Any screen can be configured to depict what other screens are showing, and all the work stations rotate, so any station can view and perform any function. The seat just in front of us is the watch commander’s position.”
Mike noted that the watch commander’s seat had wide armrests with an array of keypads and controls, but no work station. “Is there a front and back to the ship?” he asked.
“Yes, and no. The ship can move in any direction, but the central shaft is designated as the rear of the bridge. The two center positions in front of the command seat are for pilot-navigators. The other stations are for gunners, engineers, and communications specialists.”
“And Jake is going to run all of this?”
“He is, from the command seat, but not in the way you think. Everything you see here is just for back-up or monitoring. When underway, unless we’re at battle stations most of the stations are vacant. Regardless of how many stations are manned, everyone is in ‘the net’ where they communicate effortlessly with each other and the ship’s Artificial Intelligence, and there is no need for the screens. You’ll soon see what I mean.” He motioned Mike to take the watch commander’s seat. “How is Jake feeling about all of this?”
“He’s telling me he’s anxious to get started. He says that, based on my background, I’m in for a surprise.”
Otis’ lips lifted in a leer. “I suspect he’s right. You two can take it from here without my help. Good luck.” He padded off to the side and sat with his tail curled about his feet to watch, looking like he could stay that way for hours.
Jake explained to Mike what was needed of him. Piloting Resolve was not the problem. A nearly sentient computer ne
twork took care of that. But the computer could make only limited judgment calls. For example, it could take them anywhere, but it could not decide where Resolve was to go. Its programming prohibited it from firing the ships’ weapons, but it could feed the necessary data to gunners. It could not decide tactics, yet once told what was needed, it could make Resolve comply in the most efficient manner. While all this was going on, it automatically kept constant watch on engineering matters throughout the ship. It monitored the drive, kept a breathable air mixture at the proper temperature and humidity, ensured adequate food and water supplies, recycled waste, opened and closed doors on command, and all the myriad details needed to keep the passengers and crew alive and comfortable.
For decisions requiring judgment, the computer needed help from the crew. Pilot-navigators, gunners, engineers, and the watch commander “plugged in” to the computer through special helmets designed to process information in both directions. The computer could sense who was in the net and process information accordingly.
In their case, Mike and Jake were the only crewmembers. Mike would occupy the watch commander’s seat to which the computer would direct everything. Resolve had not been designed to be flown in this manner, but there was no alternative. Jake was their only hope. He had to interface with the ship, fly it, and fix it.
Mike picked up a shiny black helmet and looked it over. Light as a feather, it seemed toy-like. He felt ridiculous as he slowly raised it up to his head. As he did so, Daughter rose up from the central shaft and stepped into the bridge, demanding a helmet for herself.
Mike turned his seat to face her, but she was focused on Otis. “I’m going to help,” she stated simply. Otis uttered a long, low growl. “I know it goes against custom. I know it’s forbidden. I’m changing the rules.”
“Customs have been established with good reason, My Lady. I cannot permit this.”
“You can, and you will. Your job is to protect the Heir. So is mine. This is a matter of survival. Do you wish to place the Heir’s future solely in the hands of Mr. Carver?” She turned and looked Mike over briefly, coldly, then turned back to Otis. “I say, no! We must use all our resources, including me. We can sort out the niceties later.”
“But, My Lady, you know it is dangerous for you to interface with machines, possibly deadly.“
“No, I do not. I know it was dangerous for my ancestors. I have never been permitted to try. Our situation is desperate: we get only one try at escaping this planet. We must do everything in our power to succeed. If it doesn’t work, I’ll stop immediately.”
Mike and Jake had a private conversation while Daughter tried to stare down the fierce-looking cat. >Mike, she’s right. We could use her help, but there might be a better way.<
>What are you talking about? What’s going on?<
>You won’t understand until you meet the net. I have, through Wooldroo’s memories. Daughter has been bred with certain skills. She can communicate directly with any creature in the galaxy, something only a very few females from her line can do. They are referred to as the Chosen. No one else in the galaxy has this Talent. Her special skills relate to living creatures only – machines have historically been anathema to the Chosen. Otis is right, her joining the net by herself could be a disaster. However, she’s right, too. Times are difficult, and we’ll need all the help we can get. I’m thinking that she might be able to join with our help, to sort of piggyback in with us. I’m not certain, it would be more prudent for her not to attempt this at all, but if she does, you and I should be there first to help her in.<
>I wish I knew more about all this, Jake.<
>Soon you will be an expert.<
Otis and Daughter stood nose to nose, Otis sitting almost at attention on the floor, Daughter leaning into his face, determination clear in each of their expressions. Mike stepped over and placed a hand on her shoulder while grasping a handful of Otis’ mane, diverting their attention from each other. Two sets of angry eyes turned to him, only inches away.
“Jake has chosen to be the tie-breaker here,” he stated softly. “Princess, you may be able to join this net, but not by yourself. Jake believes that if you join at all, it must be with his help after he and I have figured things out.”
“I do not need your help,” she stated emphatically.
“You don’t want to need my help, that I know,” Mike responded carefully. “Can you accept Jake’s help?”
She bit her lip as she turned from him, shrugging his hand from her shoulder. “It seems that my life will always be directed by others. I will wait.” She sat angrily in the nearest crew seat, swiveling it around to face him, her expression demanding that he get on with it. Otis went over to sit by her side, his tail curled around his feet as usual.
Mike approached the net with trepidation, though Jake could barely control his excitement. Without knowing anything about this ship, Mike nevertheless sensed the power within the system, and it scared him. Could this thing overload him, drive him crazy? Would it work right on an Earthman? He looked over the lightweight, toy-like helmet carefully, but it offered no clues. It just seemed ordinary. He shrugged and lowered it onto his head. At Jake’s suggestion he pulled the faceplate down into place, blocking the room from view.
Nothing happened. There was absolutely no sensation whatsoever.
>It’s okay, Mike. The computer is running a routine evaluation. Just be patient.<
>Sure. Easy for you to say. It’s not going to melt your brain.<
Jake chuckled. >Only you could come up with that. If it tries to melt your brain, I’ll turn it off.<
>Can you?<
>Yes.<
Long minutes passed before Mike sensed change. A chime sounded with absolute clarity and images began to appear, crystal clear images of the environment surrounding Resolve. Jake whooped with joy as the net slowly fed them visual images, the chime sounding before each new image. After only a short time, the chime disappeared, and the images began coming faster, shifting into other spectra as well. Each built on the other at a comfortable pace.
Without knowing how he knew it, Mike had no trouble distinguishing between the images and their various wavelengths and knowing what each wavelength meant. He and Jake could back up and review images with just a thought, like reversing a digital recording, if they felt they’d missed something, though most of those queries came from Mike. Jake did not question or worry, he just enjoyed.
The computer was entirely attentive to their needs. Words were not exchanged, nor did Mike sense an intelligence controlling the net, not at first, though he did sense that the net was running a training routine carefully, building up to something more. Jake wanted to rush through the process, to flash through these preliminaries, but Mike sensed the net’s guiding influence catering to the needs of both of them. It didn’t care how fast they went, only that the process played itself out to its liking.
Ocean life was not abundant in the vicinity of the ship, so there wasn’t much to see, but in spite of their depth and the darkness Mike was certain existed outside the ship, the level of light was just right for him. Soon, in addition to vision, Mike began to feel his surroundings. He felt the temperature and texture of the water as it touched the skin of the ship, his skin, not as something to be liked or disliked, just something that was. Mike knew intellectually that the water was cold, but he didn’t feel cold.
His senses vibrated with life. The net tweaked a knob somewhere, and there was sound. One sound at a time at first, then a blending: cries of whales, the chirping of dolphins, rumbles and groans of distant volcanoes and shifting landmasses, the shushing of merchant ships’ propellers, a true cacophony of sound that should have been overwhelming and confusing but was not. Mike found himself sorting and focusing without effort, with just a thought. He even knew from which direction the sounds came and from how far distant.
He reveled in the wash of data. He had always felt the strong pull of his American Indian ancestry, had always felt close to the elements
– earth, fire, water, air, and spirit, and the places these things occupied in the natural processes of life. Now he was experiencing them in ways unimaginable. This was it, this was the ultimate. It couldn’t get better, nor would he want it to.
But it did. The net somehow let him know that its purpose was not to teach him to sort through data. Processing data was the net’s job. It wanted him first to know the data, to feel it, to experience it, and to live it. Then, and only then, could Mike and Jake correlate and add sense to the data in ways only sentient beings could. So the net added perspective.
To start the process, the net let Mike meet Jake, or more precisely, Mike and Jake re-met in a different way. When fully integrated into the virtual net, they became virtual equals, Mike no longer controlling. Communication between the two was not limited to words and a hit-or-miss smattering of overflowing feelings. Language and translation were not needed within the net. Mike and Jake communicated however they chose, sometimes in words, sometimes in concepts, sometimes through entire thought processes. Though separate beings, they knew instantly and intuitively what each was thinking and doing within the net.
Then Mike and Jake met the artificial intelligence controlling the net. They played with it, chasing it through its home, Resolve, learning the ship’s layout, playing with life support systems, the power plant, multiple sensor arrays for controlling temperature and air quality and housekeeping equipment. They pulled ingredients together to prepare and cook their next meal, opened and closed doors at will, turned lights on and off, and chased each other through many of the mundane systems this intelligence controlled every moment of every day to keep Resolve functioning.
Then they were taken outside. The net let Mike/Jake sense location. They saw their place, the ship’s place, within the sea. They sensed the depth of the water, they sensed land to the east, and they sensed larger parameters: the Pacific Ocean, other continents and oceans, then the globe.
But the net was just getting warmed up. Its data banks knew Earth’s solar system as a collection of sun, planets, moons, asteroids, comets, energy flows in relation to each, and the solar system’s place within the larger background of neighboring stars, sectors, and galactic political divisions and subdivisions. They went on tour.
Last of the Chosen (Spirit of Empire, Book One) Page 6
