Descent

by Erik Schubach

  I know who she is... She's the Sky Guard ranger who risks her life every day to protect the lives of others, so why would today be any different? That was a big part of why I loved her so much.

  I told her that, and I didn't give a flying fart in space who heard me. “I love you, lady.”

  I could almost hear the smirk in her voice as she said, “I love you too. Now, we have some work to do. I'm talking with the boys already, they are going to make a better communications setup for you so we can all coordinate.”

  I smiled at that, as I was just going to suggest that. My mind was already racing through scenarios, trying to figure out how to do the impossible. Almost on cue, I saw my pingers come inside down below, they looked to be in a deep conversation as they trundled to the workbenches and the piles of scrap parts we had there.

  She said, “We are building a wireless analog remote transceiver relay on our side so that once you hack the core, you can set up a transmitter on your end and we can regain control of the city and get to the others before they burn up on re-entry.”

  I closed my eyes and sighed and said the unspoken part, “And I will try to figure out how I can get into orbit and survive in space while I go to hack a military-grade system while simultaneously deactivating the malicious instruction sets.”

  She actually chuckled, making me feel a little better about her being jacked into a city and acting like its computer. “Piece of cake.”

  Then she said more mechanically, “We only have ninety-three point six five eight minutes before we pass behind the planet, let me fill you in on the rest.”

  I nodded. Was it wrong I found it sexy that she could calculate things in her head like that with such precision? I may have heated up inappropriately in these dire circumstances when she said it.

  I went about my own planning as she explained everything that had happened since the hack. The two most chilling things were the automated messages that played on every device with a screen or a speaker as the code started to execute. A message from Terra stating that the Tau Ceti system was suspected of sedition and of constructing military vessels without Old Earth oversight. And that the only recourse they had was Pacification. That we would all die as an example to other systems where unrest was growing.

  So they weren't even sure if we really were building a self-defense fleet? Just the suspicion we might be was enough for them to commit genocide? By the lords of the cosmos, I was starting to feel for the Betweeners who fought the Galactic Federation control of their lives. I didn't condone the pirates, I just understood more clearly why they broke off from society like they did.

  The second thing was that all the pingers and other self-contained AIs in the city had started hunting down and attacking every technician and engineer in the city. Killing the only people who might be able to find a way around the shield, no matter how slim that chance was, made a morbid sense to me.

  The irony of the thing was that they found the control code was dormant inside the Asimov Inhibitor Chips which were supposed to prevent that very thing. And none of my pingers had been affected when the activation pulse went through the system because the first thing I did whenever I got a new pinger, was to disable that chip and make the required changes to their systems to wake them up. Otherwise, I would likely be dead too. They would have come after the only technician on the planet... me.

  I was sickened by the cost of stopping the pingers topside, almost three-quarters of the New Terra Sky Guard rangers in the city gave their lives to stop them and save the engineers like Dr. Germaine.

  It was after we said our goodbyes until they emerged out of the planet's shadow, that I had an idea as I ran to the door below, Flower in hot pursuit.

  I flung the door open and looked across the compound to where a blood red, heavily damaged space rated tumbril sat. Betweeners had tried to raid the A1 for food and supplies during the Pass, thinking it abandoned. Vashon, even injured, proved to be more than a match for them. But she had damaged the tumbril and broken the crystal-alloy cockpit window.

  Maybe I could repair the beast now that it was safe for me to go outside. I wondered if I could scavenge what I needed for the repairs from the Boneyard, the junkyard of scrap, garbage, and discarded tech from the floating cities.

  Ok, a mechanical problem for me to work on. That, I can do. I was feeling a little more confident, they call me Fixit because if it's broken, odds are, I can fix it. I grabbed my toolkit, whistled loudly and motioned Glitch over and marched out across the compound. One thought echoing in my mind as we went. Eight days.

  Chapter 3 – Troublesome Logistics

  Five days later, I called out as I repeatedly struck the makeshift control relay on the damaged plasma drive engine with the hammer my multi-tool was currently configured as, sparks rained down from the vents on the damaged pirate craft, “Try her now, Glitchy.”

  I moved aside to where he could see me from the poorly patched windscreen of the tumbril, then with a cough, the drive ignited. I wiped the sweat from my brow. This was hard work, but... I gave him a thumbs up, and I heard him squee a question as he shut down the port drive. I nodded at his inquiry and called out, “Just needed a little delicate persuasion.”

  Then I just blinked at the ship that wasn't the pretty streamlined red pirate vessel it had been before we bastardized half of its systems and patched the damage done to her by Vash using a riveter like an old-fashioned projectile weapon from some classic action adventure wave. It was amazing just how much damage was done. These tumbril vessels are rated for micrometeorite impacts, but those white-hot, titanium/ceramic rivets cut through its armor like a hot knife through butter.

  I patted the vessel. She was going to be hell to fly manually since we shattered all the auto navigation control crystals, so we wouldn't find ourselves flying out-system as soon as we took to the air, but I think we can do it.

  Glitch joined me at my side as I said, “Ok, that's half our problem. Now we have to figure out how I can survive outside of her.” He nodded sagely as I looked at the huge dodo bird from the history books of Old Earth that my pingers had painted on either side of the monstrosity.

  I had asked Flower dryly, thinking about my own open-air tumbril, the Albatross, “Is there a theme going on here I should know about? Why are all my ship names extinct birds? Wouldn't a species that was still alive be better juju for flying?”

  She... just turned away from me as if to say, “Harrumph,” and I had to smile.

  Then I squinted at the ship and asked Glitch. “Did you shut down all the systems before coming out?”

  He nodded, then slowed his nod and looked back at the ship which was humming. His ocular port iris widened, and he squeed in alarm as he rocketed back up the debarkation ramp of the vessel, sparks drizzling from him as he bumped over the rough metal. I had to smile at the poor scatterbrained boy. I swear, one day I'll get the parts and supplies I need to fix all my pingers the right way.

  I sighed then slapped down my goggles to see Sai, working at her desk up in New Terra. As if she could feel eyes on her, her cat ears twitched, and her cybernetic tail swished behind her. She looked up and smiled at her screen, where I knew she saw me. “Fixit, it's marrrlvelous to see you. To what do I owe the honorrr? You arrrn't due to check in forrr anotherrr hourrr.” She stretched in a decidedly feline manner.

  For someone as capable and no doubt dangerous as she was, she was borderline adorable. The Modder was both Doctor Germaine's Assistant Director of Covert Sciences and Lady Perigrine's personal bodyguard. I assumed 'personal bodyguard' was interchangeable with 'assassin', as I've been apprised of some of the quite lethal projects she has completed for Prime's Dark Fleet.

  Germaine and Lady Peregrine had appointed her as my point of contact once we had decent communications through the augmented reality visor the boys cooked up with the Director. The Doctor informed me that Vashon's time was 'better spent' keeping the city's makeshift support systems running while re
writing every single command and control system in her supercomputing brain so that they were ready on their end if I was actually able to get up there.

  Modders were an odd but fun segment of the population who liked getting cybernetic implants or medical procedures to modify their appearance to add animal-like aspects to themselves. The most popular were the Nekos, who almost worshiped cats and wanted to take on their aspects. Some just went for ears or whiskers. The more hardcore would even opt for the cybernetic tail implants that precluded them from buying normal clothing as they had to be modified to accept the tail.

  But then there were what they called on the modder scene, the Trues, or True Nekos. They were the ones who opted for all of the above, plus the intracranial behavior modification implants which were usually only used on convicted criminals. They used the tech not to pacify like they were originally intended, but instead to instill and enforce catlike mannerisms in the individual.

  Unfortunately for modders, most people's bodies rejected more than the most basic implants, so the ones who couldn't get more than basic communications or information grid uplink implants, opted for painful surgical procedures to effect the desired physical modifications.

  Sai, like my girlfriend, was one of the blessed people whose body was quite tolerant of even the more invasive implants. She was a True who even went so far as to have her speech patterns modified to reflect her feline ways. So she almost purred or yowled out her words depending on her emotional state.

  Me? I thought she made an adorable Neko, though I had to keep reminding myself that she could probably kill me in a thousand ways in an instant and make it look like an accident.

  I tried to keep my excitement reined in when I blurted, “The tumbril is ready. I just need to come up with some sort of EVA suit now.”

  She looked to almost vibrate in place with a smile on her face. Then she twisted her head a little to lick the wispy orange fur that stuck out under her short sleeve. The fur tapered away to nothing at her wrists. Then she said, “That's woderrrful news! Vashon said you could do it!”

  I hesitated. “How is she?”

  I could see the concern in her face, but she was fairly confident as she leaned over to rub her cheek and chin on a lateral support column in her office as Vash's surrogate since for all intents and purposes, she 'was' the city at the moment. “Yourrr girrrl is doing fine. A little strrrained, but she is amazing.”

  I found I liked Sai better than Germaine, as the Neko always spoke of Vashon as a person. A person she admired. Whereas the Doc spoke of her more like a piece of equipment or an experiment, rarely using her and she pronouns.

  I nodded and smiled as I agreed, “Yes. Yes, she is.”

  Then I prompted, “They still there?”

  She knew I was talking about the new gravity signature that was moving in-system from the rift. It had appeared days ago, and it would arrive around the same time the city hit atmo. Best case scenario it was Prime's Dark Fleet answering the distress burst transmission, but they were too late for New Terra, but might still have time to save the other cities even though everyone inside would be dead. Worst case scenario, it was the Galactic Federation's Pacification Fleet coming to watch the completion of their handiwork.

  We were still worried that there may be a stealth Galactic Federation ship out there somewhere floating dark on a ballistic course since we had no clue where the transmission that started this all had come from.

  If the approaching blip was transmitting, we had no idea since none of us had the ability to listen with all of our transceiver arrays down.

  She just nodded. “Doctor Gerrrmaine is tracking it.”

  Then she looked back over her shoulder and hit a button, and her office door slid shut, and she whispered at the screen, “Have you told them yet?”

  I shook my head and my cheeks heated. She knew the troublesome logistics as well as I did. I had done the calculations a thousand times, and I couldn't find a trajectory that would allow me to chase the cities in orbit and match their speed to rendezvous with what little fuel was left in the tumbril and the time constraint on us. But after seeing the modified communications rig on the ship, I had a plan that would have Vashon forbidding me to attempt.

  I exhaled and leaned on Glitchy, who rested his grappler lightly on my hip. “If I can figure out how to be out in vacuum without, you know, dying and junk, I think I know how to get more fuel.”

  Her left ear twitched in time with her right eye as she glared at me, knowing the only possible source of fuel for the reaction rockets that would accelerate me to escape velocity since we didn't have days for me to be raised into orbit by the gravity wakes. The plasma drives certainly didn't have that kind of thrust.

  She yowled in distress, “Arrre youuu crrrazy, Fixie?”

  I shrugged. “I can't let you all die, so I have to. Even if I left right now, you know I wouldn't be able to get there before you are all a fireball in the sky with what little reaction fuel I have.”

  She actually hissed at me, her ears pressed tight to her head and her needle-sharp canines gleaming in the artificial light. Then she said reluctantly as she re-opened her office door and shared, “I see morrre and morrre what yourrr girrrl sees in you.”

  I was blushing. If I wasn't so scared of her, and she didn't build devices which were made to take life, I could see us becoming good friends.

  Sai made a grumpy face that was too cute when I said, “And remember, you promised not to tell her what I'm thinking.”

  The voice of a certain ranger of my heart came across the line. I winced and squinted one eye. Busted. “You don't think I don't know, Fixie? You are all routing communications through my subsystems. And I know I can't convince you it is foolish and reckless, because I also know you would do anything for family, and I can't ask you to not be you.”

  Ok, my cheeks were heating. I just figured she had better things to be doing than monitoring communications. But then again, her brain could multitask about thirty-three trillion things per second, sooooo...

  Like all cowards, I knew when to run away. “I'll talk to you ladies later, I have an EVA suit to somehow create.” Then to Vash, I added almost in question like I was asking forgiveness, “Love you?”

  Then I snorted when the two of them answered in unison, “Love you too.” I rolled my eyes at Sai then flipped my visor up and looked between the repair shop and the Boneyard. Right then. I exhaled and made up my mind and headed to the Boneyard, maybe inspiration would hit there.

  I snorted. I just told a living city I loved her. But she was a sexy living city. My sexy living city.

  A few minutes later I was stepping off Glitch's mobility platform as he relaxed his grip on me with his grappler. He was just as overprotective as Vashon at times.

  We stood in the Boneyard that we were still getting reacquainted with, since everything we were used to, had been displaced, and new layers of wondrous tech discards were exposed by the storms and earthquakes of the Pass.

  It was both a curse and a blessing. We had been so used to where in general we could find scrap to help us in most scavenging runs for parts, but pickings had been slim the past couple years. So though it was more like random discoveries now, there were plenty of new parts uncovered in the mountains of trash.

  I looked at what was the crushed orb of an old Mark 3 pinger sticking up between a thresher actuator and what looked like an old airlock door. Glitchy squeed out in question as he looked at the mountains and valleys of scrap.

  I shrugged as I picked my way over to the pinger remains. “Not really sure, buddy. Just grab anything you think may be useful for some sort of EVA rig, or even any power crystals that aren't trollite? Maybe if I can get enough power, we could do some sort of pressurized projected force envelope that can keep the atmosphere, and I can move around in?” Hell, I didn't know, and that scared me.

  I only had two launch windows left to be able to intercept New Terra in its orbit before I
wouldn't have time to effect our makeshift workaround. One in eleven hours and one in twenty-two. And I was supposed to somehow come up with a way I could go EV in that time?

  I glanced at Glitch as he trundled over the scrap mountains, picking at things and tossing them aside as he diligently looked for something to help. We had entertained just sending in my pingers to effect the repairs, but as amazingly superhuman as they were, they weren't rated for space. The extreme environment was almost as hazardous to them as to me. There was the very real possibility that the temperature extremes in the vacuum of space could shatter their power crystals. It wasn't like they were sealed units like the sewage blockage removal pingers, or the on-orbit repair pingers were.

  My entire family of pingers had volunteered, but there was no flanterskelling way I'd send any of them to their probable deaths on the outside chance they could actually make it and set up the relay rig we had built to Anna's specifications.

  I reconfigured my multi-tool into a spanner to open the Mark 3 to grab the grappler control crystal so I could do a better temporary fix for Flower's grappler when I froze. I looked down at the spanner in my hand, eyes wide, then yelled out to Glitch. “Change of plans, Glitchy! I know what we need!”

  Chapter 4 – Betweeners

  Eight hours later I was arguing with Sai and Doctor Germaine on my visor. Anna was saying, “It was never meant to do that. You won't have the power to...”

  I growled out, “I've all the half burned out crystals in a bandolier. I'll have thirty-seven minutes before molecular instability between the nano panels as cohesion degrades. If I can't do it by then, it really doesn't matter now does it?”

  I stood there with the crystals looped over my shoulder and down to my waist on the other side, a rebreather oxygen mask on with the form-fitting back tank I used when cleaning out the silos. If this worked, it would be protected too, and I'd have plenty of air to watch as I burn up in the atmosphere if I failed.