by Amy DuBoff
“Nice try, but I know exactly what I’m doing.”
They continued to pester the back of her consciousness, but she blocked them out and did her best to focus on the pod’s progress.
The diameter of the cylinder spanned ten kilometers. Ava wouldn’t have been able to see the sides if it wasn’t for the distinctive blue glow that looked almost like polka dots in the dark. As they got deeper inside, she realized that each of those dots was actually the top of one of the rock core ‘pits’ they had observed on the planets, which were slotted into racks on a forty-five degree angle. The racks around the cylinder weren’t filled, but there were at least two dozen of the pits.
Though the Dyons didn’t have physical eyes, she felt like they were watching her as the pod descended past each.
At the bottom of the massive cylinder, the HUD displayed the presence of an oxygen and nitrogen atmosphere, now thick enough to be within breathable tolerances for a human. Noticing that more of the pits were slotted into the racks where the atmosphere was thicker, she speculated that perhaps the Dyons thrived on that mixture themselves.
Twenty kilometers down, the pod came to rest on the deck of the cylinder, sinking slightly into the groundcover.
What is this? she asked Ruby.
>>It looks to be a substance similar to the moss-like material we observed on Gidyon.<<
I guess it’s time to find out if I really can breathe this air, huh?
>>I detect no reason why you wouldn’t be able to. And believe me, I am being very conservative in my analysis. The whole sharing a body thing, you know.<<
It does bring me peace of mind that you have a vested interest in keeping me alive.
>>I don’t envy the decontamination you’ll have to go through after this, just in case, but that skin buffing will give you a great glow for the celebration party.<<
Yay, I think? Ava rose from the pilot’s chair and headed to the back hatch of the pod.
>>Not to pressure you, but we are on a ticking clock here… and we’re not sure when time will run out.<<
I know. Ava took one final, calming breath. Let’s do this.
She hit the release on the back hatch.
The door lowered to the soft ground. Ava descended it, scoping out her surroundings. Ruby fed a mental overlay to her, functioning like a HUD without the need for a helmet.
There isn’t that pressure that messed with my head on Gidyon, Ava observed.
>>I believe the frequency surrounding your suit is neutralizing it. However, I’m cancelling out the remaining effects.<<
Just don’t dial it back as much as you did last time.
>>Don’t worry, I’m not,<< Ruby assured her. >>The passageway we need is to the left.<<
Got it. Ava spotted the opening seventy meters away.
She took a moment to look upward at the expansive cylinder around her. She was but a tiny speck in the mammoth enclosure. Space was twenty kilometers above her, and the Raven was four minutes at maximum thrust. She was alone.
Not alone. There’s Ruby, and I have my mission.
Ava transformed into her Hochste state while she dashed toward the passageway.
The practice on the Hellfire had honed her understanding of her new body. As her legs pumped her across the spongy ground, she knew precisely how far and how fast she could run without needing to rest. She could go a long way, and she’d need all of that stamina to make it through the mission.
The passage appeared to be made of stone, like the corridors from Gidyon. The dull, dark material was smooth, yet had a rippled pattern running its length.
As she neared it, the stone began to disintegrate into a cloud.
Oh, shit, here we go!
>>Suit is active, and there’s a shield around the pod. Keep moving.<<
Ava headed straight into the swarm.
The particles looped around her, trying to latch on, but they were knocked back each time. A one-centimeter-thick air pocket surrounded her entire body. The particles were so close to her eyes that she had to resist the urge to keep swatting them away, but they couldn’t come any closer. She was protected.
She ran full speed down the passageway, following Ruby’s map in her mind. It was too dark to see clearly, even with her augmented vision, so she activated a light that was affixed to the front of her armor.
The light cast a blue halo in front of her, illuminating the particle swarm that kept following her, undeterred by the field that kept them at bay. They made it almost impossible to see, so she relied on the sensor data Ruby was feeding into her mind.
Two hundred meters down the passage, she reached an intersection. Which way?
>>Uh…<< Ruby floundered.
What is it?
>>This layout doesn’t match the map.<<
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
What do you mean it doesn’t match the map? Ava demanded. I thought the sensor data you used to create it was being gathered in real-time?
>>Some of the environmental conditions are, yes, but it’s being applied to the model that was developed using the Hellfire’s sensors.<<
Ava thought for a moment. That was only a couple of hours ago. Why doesn’t it match?
>>There are two potential explanations. The first is that the sensor data was wrong. The second is that things have changed since then.<<
Changed? How would that be possible?
>>If this ship was grown, there is no reason that it would need to stay in one static form.<<
It never changed when we were analyzing it before.
>>There wasn’t an invader on board then,<< Ruby pointed out.
Fuck, you’re right. Ava’s heart dropped. It might be shifting around as a strategy to keep us from getting anywhere. It can’t stop us because it can’t grab us, but it can force us to run in circles.
>>That is the more likely of the two explanations.<<
Shit!
Ava looked down the two potential paths. Either one was likely to lead them to a dead end. They’d need to find a way to make forward progress somehow.
I need to tell the Raven what’s going on. She tried to open up a mental comm link. Nothing.
Ruby, why can’t I connect?
>>Communications appear to be blocked. I can’t get through, either.<<
Fuck! Then we need to backtrack to the pod. Ava turned around.
The passageway she had just come through was gone.
Um… that’s not good.
>>Uh oh.<<
Not helpful, Ruby! What do we do? Are we trapped in here?
>>There is always a way, you know that. The first priority is establishing contact with the Raven. We have the signal booster, we just need to figure out where to place it.<<
Ava took a calming breath, wishing the particles would stop buzzing around her face for two seconds so she could think in peace.
Okay, if we can’t get through to the Raven using our communications equipment in its raw form, then we need to tap into the alien ship.
>>Nick and Sam are the master hackers, not me.<<
Their hacks require dropping the ship’s defensive net. All you need to do is piggyback on a signal connected to the external sensors—I bet even I could do that.
Ruby smirked in her mind. >>I see what you’re doing… that was a challenge.<<
Do you accept?
>>Yes. Head to the right.<<
Friendly competition had a way of getting results with her team, and Ava was pleased to find that it even worked with her AI. She wasn’t proud of resorting to such tactics, but the direct challenge would keep both of them focused. If she let herself think about being trapped in the giant alien ship—
She snapped her focus back to the passageway.
Get to the sensors. Alert the Raven. Destroy the enemy ship.
One step at a time.
* * *
“Any word from the Raven or Ava?” Kurtz asked his comm officer on the Hellfire’s bridge.
“No, sir.”
No ne
ws is good news, I suppose. He settled back into the command chair.
“There is another matter,” Captain Vera spoke up from the chair to his right. “The alien vessel is almost within range of the Alaxar Trinary’s in-system sensor array.”
Kurtz closed his eyes. Fuck.
The issue was twofold.
Foremost, the system’s residents would be able to see an approaching planet-sized object. Best-case scenario was they’d be curious and want to know more; worst-case, there’d be widespread panic that they were about to die.
A secondary issue was the Hellfire and its capabilities. While most in the FDG were aware of the Arti-Sun weapon, the technology was kept as secret as possible. New cultures finding out about it tended to result in General Lance Reynolds getting a headache, and anyone with half a brain knew better than to be on the receiving end of the general’s wrath. However, if the residents of the Alaxar Trinary witnessed the engagement with the Dyons and saw the Arti-Sun fire, it would open up a shitstorm of questions about what kind of weapon had been powerful enough to destroy an enemy ship of that size.
Kurtz didn’t want to answer to General Reynolds about how secrets related to the Federation’s tech got out. He needed a solution that would keep the Alaxar Trinary safe, and would also prevent anyone seeing something they weren’t supposed to.
“May I use your office?” Kurtz asked the captain.
“Of course. May I ask for what purpose?”
“To call my contact on Alucia. I have an idea for how to address our problem, but I need to get a status update first.”
“Understood. We’ll be standing by.”
Kurtz entered the captain’s office, heading straight for her desk. He took a seat, then initiated a call to President Connors.
The president’s face appeared on the screen, looking slightly confused. He relaxed when he saw Kurtz. “Colonel, hello! I didn’t recognize the credentials on the call.”
“Yes, apologies. I’m borrowing office space on a ship. I wanted to check in on the status of the shield installations.”
Connors nodded. “It’s coming along. We’ve had some technical barriers to overcome. I believe we’re finished with all but one station on Alucia. Coraxa was delayed due to some… political issue, but we worked through that, and the installation is underway. I believe Nezar is almost complete, as well.”
“Do you have a timeline for when it will all be done?”
“Probably twenty minutes for Alucia. I’m not sure about the other worlds. You’d have to ask Karen.”
“I will. Could you forward me her direct contact details on Nezar?”
Momentary surprise flitted across the president’s face, but he leaned forward to swipe his hand across his desktop. “Sent.”
A notification window popped up on Kurtz’s screen with the requested information. “Thank you. Now, what was the issue with Coraxa?”
“There were reportedly some trust concerns concerning the Federation. Again, Karen was a part of those conversations, not me.”
“You’ve put an awful lot of faith in her.”
“She’s risen to the occasion. Shocking that she’s in this position now, considering she was originally sent to Alucia to kill me, but I’ve always believed everyone deserves a second chance. The founders of our system came to seek a fresh start, and it’s important we honor that legacy.”
Now we need to make sure they have a future to build upon. Kurtz nodded. “A touching sentiment, and one I agree it’s important we all remember. Now I need to check in with Karen.”
“Of course. Thank you again for sending the shields. It’s set my mind at ease, knowing we have an extra layer of protection.”
If only he knew how little protection they’ll offer against what’s headed their way. But that was the power of hope.
“The Federation will gladly protect our own. I’ll be in touch if I have any updates.” Kurtz ended the call.
The last part was a lie. If Ava’s mission failed, it was unlikely the Hellfire would be able to do anything to stop the Dyon ship before it reached the system. Is it better to give warning, or to let them live their last moments in peace? He didn’t know the answer.
Setting the dire thought from his mind, he called Karen on Nezar.
It took thirty seconds for her to pick up. Though he’d never spoken with her before, there was no mistaking the violet-eyed woman as Luke’s sister.
“Karen, I’m Colonel Kurtz with the FDG.”
“Oh!” Recognition passed across her face. She tilted her head. “I thought you’d be older.”
“Modifications.” He waved his hand dismissively. “I wanted to check in on the status of your shield upgrades.”
“Right, yes.” She sighed. “It’s been a challenge. First, this one station manager somehow got it in his mind that it was his sole purpose in life to prevent us from installing any Federation tech. We eventually convinced him, but it was a delay. And then we had to solve the interface problem, which set us back again—”
“By how much?”
“No serious delays. We’ll be finished with everything in about two hours. So, almost there.” She gave a weary smile.
Two hours? The Dyon ship will be in range before then. Kurtz tried not to let his concern show. “Are any of the installations complete?”
“Seven will be within the next half-hour. It’s just that north polar one that got pushed back.”
“And what about Coraxa?”
“Half are complete, and I think the others will also be done in about two hours.” Her brow knit. “Why? I thought we had another two days before the ship gets here?”
“You do. And again, it should be disabled well before it ever reaches you. I wanted to make sure everything was proceeding according to plan.”
She shrugged. “About as close as anything ever does around here.”
“Good, thank you for the update. We’ll be in touch soon.”
As soon as the call was terminated, he leaned back in the chair and massaged the bridge of his nose. Will enough of the new shield be active in time?
He returned to the bridge, where Vera was waiting with a quizzical look.
“Find out what you needed to know?” she asked.
“Yes and no,” Kurtz replied. “What do you know about planetary shields?”
“They… shield planets,” the captain replied in a tone that sounded more like a question than a statement.
“I have a specific question, if you have a specialist on board.”
“Lieutenant Uther in engineering, sir,” the helm officer chimed in. “We went through the academy together. He knows his stuff.”
“Thank you. Please open a comm channel to him.”
“Open, sir,” the communication tech acknowledged.
“Lieutenant, what would it take to adjust the opacity of a planetary shield?” Kurtz asked.
A slight smile touched the corners of Vera’s lips as she caught onto his plan.
“Not much, with our current models, sir,” the lieutenant replied over the comm. “They’re configured to be able to account for star color spectrum so we can have green vegetation on worlds that otherwise wouldn’t support it.”
“How many of the nine generators need to be active to sustain a shield?”
“Depends on what you need it to do. For protection, all of them give the best defense. You could probably get away with five of the nine, if it’s only a matter of having a field up—to block some minor debris or tint the color.”
“Could you make it so people on the surface wouldn’t be able to see the sky?”
“Sure, with a little tweaking,” the engineer confirmed.
“Good. I have a project for you.”
* * *
Karen frowned at her computer screen. “Strange.”
“What is it?” Trisha asked, looking up from the tablet she’d been working on in Karen’s office.
They had been going over the final checklist items for the shield insta
llations for the past half-hour. All but the north polar station upgrades were complete, and Karen was ready to call it a night.
However, the latest message from the FDG threatened to prolong her already very long day.
“I just got a notice that they’re about to push a new software packet out to the shield system,” Karen said. “It says it’s some sort of test protocol. We might experience some ‘visual disturbance’.”
“What does that mean?” Trisha scrunched up her nose.
“Beats me.” Karen brushed her fingertips along her hairline. “I thought we were almost finished.”
“Sounds like there’s nothing for us to do with this, though. We can sit back and let the Federation do their thing.”
Karen barked a laugh. “If only it was that simple! ‘Visual disturbance’ means people are going to notice. They’ll start asking questions about what’s causing it, then we’ll need to explain that we took tech from the Federation, and it’ll be a landslide from there.”
Trisha slumped. “Oh, I didn’t think about that part.”
“I didn’t spend too long in public relations, but what little exposure I did have demonstrated how quickly people will latch onto even the most minor issue. If it’s something bigger, we’ll have a major incident on our hands.”
“Trading one crisis for another.” Trisha sighed.
“Welcome to politics.”
“We should send out some preemptive alert,” Trisha suggested. “If we tell them that we made some shield upgrades, and will be testing out some things, maybe no one will question it if something unusual happens.”
“Now you’re thinking like a politician,” Karen replied with a smile. “Why don’t you draft the communication, and I can review it to add a little extra spin in our favor?”
“Perfect. I’ll have you something shortly.”
As soon as the other woman was gone, Karen reread the note from the FDG. So, there was an ulterior motive with that equipment installation after all.
A looming physical threat may be one reality, but she suspected that this ‘visual disturbance’ was an effort to hide something they didn’t want citizens to see. Whatever they were covering up, she had no choice but to trust them, now that the equipment was installed. I hope this was the right call.
