Alizon leaned toward her and whispered, “I feel like a toddler, needing someone to help me with this. Thank you for your compassion.” His eyes twinkled at her.
She met his gaze, and then a grin crossed her face. “I really need to hear your story of growing up. I imagine it will certainly be elucidating and unalike mine. Thank you for coming along with me. I know this is really a stretch for you, considering how little you know of me.”
“Beautiful woman, I can see your heart is good. What more need I know?” Alizon squeezed her hand and then shut the door. The compartment was very confining were the toilet was located.
Cammarry returned to her pilot’s chair.
Jerome was speaking softly into his com-link. An image of one of his children was on the display next to the topographical graphs. His hands were on the controls, and the shuttle was stable in flight.
“Are you…” Cammarry began to say, but then stopped herself. The baby on the display had a toothless grin. It was hard for her to be angry at such a face. So instead of a nasty retort she sat down and latched the seatbelt. “Go ahead and talk out loud if that helps. A baby cannot understand all of this.”
Jerome looked at her, and their eyes met ever so briefly. He nodded. “Well, then Monika, they are both doing well?”
The display shifted to a different baby. This one had slightly darker hair, and was not smiling. He had an intense stare right at the display. Jerome could see Monika’s hands holding him.
“Thank you for letting me see them. I best go and continue the mission. See you when I get back. Take care of Kalur and Brink.” Jerome shut off the link he had made with Monika. The topographical display expanded and covered the part where the babies’ images had been.
“Brink?” Cammarry said in surprise. “A baby named Brink?”
“Yes, after our Chief Engineer. Without him I would not be here,” Jerome responded judiciously. He was unsure what more to say.
“The other baby’s name?” Cammarry asked in a quiet voice, almost as if she too was uncertain.
“Kalur, Monika’s father.”
They sat in awkward silence for a moment longer. Neither knew what else to say, and both were fearful of spoiling the tentative calm that had been found.
Alizon stepped out of the toileting compartment. He held onto the seat backs and made his way to where he could sit down again. As he did he looked out the viewport. “Such strange and unsettling colors. Like no world I could imagine.”
“Even stranger inhabitants,” Jerome said and immediately regretted bringing up the Crocks. He could almost feel the fall of ice between Cammarry and him.
“Alizon? Keep strapped in. We do not know how well all this will go,” Cammarry stated.
The time passed in stressful and tense silence. That was broken when the shuttle received a message from Sandie. “Colonel Harrison is requesting that we allow his SB Louis Le Prince, to do the final guidance into Habitat Zeta’s hanger bay.”
“Can you override that system?” Cammarry asked immediately. Her guard was up. “No kidnappers ever again.”
“Yes, I can override that system. I have refrained from probing too deeply into the nonphysicality of Zeta because of their overly tight security layers. However, that security would not inhibit my operations unless they have far more advanced designs than I have observed thus far.”
“We have seen a wide variety of technological prowess, depending on location,” Jerome commented.
“It might depend on what their religious beliefs are,” Alizon commented from the passenger seat. “I do not mean to intrude, but religious ideas are the core of every society. At the deepest level society is about religion. Not religion like arguing about god concepts, but more about reality. What is truth and what is not? How a society perceives truth, and ultimate reality determines how they use their minds, which leads to how they use tools. The followers of Araceli thought enslaving people was right, it is not, but they thought it was. So they used their tools to hurt people. They lacked understanding of truth, they denied truth for their religion.”
Cammarry and Jerome looked at each other and then down and away. Jerome did not know how much, or how little Cammarry had told Alizon about their own actions regarding the slavery situation. Cammarry did not want to explain her role in the slave rebellion, but she knew the slavers had killed Alizon’s family.
Sandie replied, “Yes, Alizon, you make an excellent point. I look forward to getting to know you better in the future. I am having a com-link made for you so as to allow you and Cammarry to keep in contact easier. That same tool will allow you also to contact others, as you deem desirable.”
“Thank you,” Alizon said hesitantly. “Perhaps I overstepped my bounds. All I need is friendship with this beautiful woman. Technology is a tool which can enslave just as powerfully as the Parsons of Araceli have.”
Cammarry blushed. She then shook her head and said, “Sandie, you asked about some synthetic brain guiding us to Zeta’s hanger bay. I am opposed to that. I can fly us there without some system being in charge.”
“Colonel Harrison insists. He claims it is for proper protection against the Crocks, whom he calls Pinheads. His claim is based on a reported incursion they made into one of Zeta’s hanger bays in the past,” Sandie replied.
Jerome jumped in, “As long as you can break us free when needed, is there much risk? You said you can overpower that Zeta system. They might have very good reasons for guiding us in. We do not want the Crocks to gain any advantages.”
“Colonel Harrison insists, and I conjecture a very high potential for being able to overcome that system, should the need arise,” Sandie stated. “I can also use that connection to assess Synthetic Brain Louis Le Prince. It will have to extend its presence out of Zeta to guide in the shuttle. That will allow me to better evaluate its capabilities, and I can truncate that link prior to docking if I detect some dangerous, unknown, or otherwise troublesome aspects of Zeta’s technology.”
Cammarry gripped the controls tightly. “I do not like it, but you will do what you want anyway.”
Alizon leaded forward and gently touched her shoulder. “I am here with you.” She responded by holding his hand for a moment.
“I am allowing SB Louis Le Prince access to NS-99, under my close observation,” Sandie stated.
A different mechanical voice came through the speakers of the cockpit.
“This is Zeta tracking control. You are now on course to enter hanger bay Riley 01. Do not alter course,” SB Louis Le Prince’s voice carried no inflections at all.
Looking out the viewport the three people in shuttle NS-99 could see the planet Zalia’s landscape as they flew over. There had been variation, between the greens, yellows, taupes, grays, and browns of the ground and foliage. However, as they approached the landing site of Zeta, the scenery took a dramatic change. The shuttle dropped down and was flying only a hundred meters off the surface as it approached.
“Why are we so low?” Jerome asked.
“Standard operating procedure for all craft approaching Zeta,” SB Louis Le Prince replied. “Any craft or beast outside of the prescribed approach corridors is shot down without exceptions.”
“The gunfire at…” Jerome stopped what he was saying. He was thinking of the sounds the probe had picked up as it had approached Zeta. He knew the probe had not been shot down, but did not want to reveal that knowledge to SB Louis Le Prince. Instead he watched as the landscape altered beneath them.
The habitat sat on a rise of ground, its immense cylinder not resting very deeply into the surface at all. Struts were extended out all along the sides of the habitat extending down and securing it to the surface. The struts, ten on each side, were enormous, hundreds of meters long, and several dozen meters thick. A footpad sat on the ground, anchoring the strut to the habitat. The habitat had a fortified look, as the struts would prevent the habitat from rolling on its cylindrical shape.
The ground all around the habitat, for a
distance of at least a kilometer beyond where the habitat extended, was black with no foliage or growth of any kind. No liquids, no semifluids, no native life at all. Just hard, blasted, blackness covering the ground.
“I never saw that when the probe approached,” Jerome remarked. “But it was night then.”
The shuttle flew along, still only a hundred meters above the ground but circling the habitat. As they watched, at the end of one of the struts, a door rolled open. An olive colored automacube rolled out of that strut and across the black ground. Its drive wheels were thicker than the typical automacube, and it had twin manipulation arms on its top. A bundle of rockets was slung in a rectangular rack at the back of the automacube. That brace of weapons looked ready to deploy instantly. As it rolled along, there were no track marks observable on the black ground.
“Angel Food?” Cammarry gasped in horror as she recalled seeing a somewhat similar automacube from a view near a Terraforming and Restoration facility. The memory was ghastly. The anguish of seeing that person, who she thought was Khin, die haunted her. “They cannot be doing that here!”
“What is the mission of the automacube? The olive colored one below us?” Jerome asked. He too was worried. “What operations is it doing?”
SB Louis Le Prince replied, “Standard perimeter patrol against the enemy.”
“So there are no humans outside Zeta?” Jerome asked as he let out a rush of air.
“Until contacted by your associates, we did not think there were any humans outside of Zeta,” SB Louis Le Prince stated. “Does that answer your inquiry?”
“No! Are you putting people on the surface of the planet?” Cammarry shrilly yelled. “Just answer me straight! Are you doing Project Angel Food? Are you modifying humans to adapt to this planet!”
SB Louis Le Prince did not respond for a moment. Then its flat, mechanical voice stated. “There are no operations or missions with the title, ‘Project Angel Food’ nor any close derivation to that nomenclature. Humans cannot survive outside of a habitat, or outside of a protected vehicle on this planet. There have been no attempts to, as you put it, ‘modify humans to adapt to this planet’ in our database or history. Does this satisfy your inquiry?”
“So you are not dumping people unclothed onto the planet’s surface and watching them die?” Cammarry asked again. “Running tests to see how long they survive?” She was struggling to control her emotions, and while Alizon had stood up and was rubbing her shoulders, she was still extremely agitated.
“No. Nothing like that has ever been proposed by anyone I am aware of in Zeta,” Colonel Harrison’s voice overrode the synthetic brain’s words on the speakers. “Blood and falcons! Has that been attempted somewhere else? Not by you I hope!” His voice was gravely and stern.
“No, we did not do that. Colonel Harrison, I apologize,” Jerome began. “We witnessed some horrific things by an insane group of synthetic brains, and your olive colored automacube reminded us both of what we saw. Forgive me to projecting my concerns and fears onto you or your operations here.”
“It sounds like we do have a lot to discuss. We guard zealously against any of our systems developing any form of sentient psychopathic tendencies,” Colonel Harrison answered. “I was monitoring your communication with our flight comptroller, SB Louis Le Prince, to make sure it was safe to allow you to dock. I am giving the final approval orders now. You may come aboard my habitat. Welcome to Zeta.”
The shuttle flew around the stern of Zeta and then lined up for the docking. The hanger bay lights flashed all around the bay as it was decompressed. On the blasted, black ground, three of the armored automacubes stood as guards, their braces of rockets ready, as the shuttle approached. Cammarry wondered who they were aiming for, NS-99, or some unseen enemy?
SB Louis Le Prince then announced, “Hanger bay Riley 01 is now ready to receive you.”
The exterior hanger bay doors folded back upon themselves and the interior was revealed. The red light from Zalia’s sun flooded into the area, washing out the Conestoga’s lighting. Everything was tinted with a red glow. The hanger bay was very similar to the other ones Jerome and Cammarry had seen. The observation deck was at the rear, and along the walls were thruster fuel storage tanks, hoses, lockers, and various other equipment to service the shuttles. The major difference, was what was already in the hanger bay. Only one stall was empty, and NS-99 flew toward that spot. As it did, Alizon watched all the activity, but Jerome and Cammarry were drawn to what was in the other stalls. Each of those other nine stalls had a large missile locked into a launch rack. They eyed the nearest missile and examined it in detail.
The missiles were not quite as long as the hanger bay was deep, but they were close. Narrow and sleek, they were about the length of a large shuttle, but much more aggressive looking. The base of each missile was surrounded by eight rocket boosters, equal distances around the base, seated parallel to the length of the missile. The rocket boosters were whitish color, but in the red Zalian light the true color was difficult to tell. The main body of the missile was silvery gray color, and was composed of large arced, squarish sections with black seams between them. When linked together, those squares made out the tubular configuration of the missile. In various places, one or more of those squarish sections was propped open, and the complex mechanisms of the missile beneath were revealed. Engineering automacubes were working at those locations. The missile’s body tapered a bit toward the front, but then flared to a conical nose. Both Jerome and Cammarry were reminded of the FTL scout ship as they looked at that cone-shaped nose. The launch rack was permalloy, with vertical circular holes along its mass. Each missile sat on the launch track, nestled down, looking eager to blast away. A thick recoil pad of permalloy was set against the main engine and the rocket boosters.
“Zeta has been busy,” Jerome commented.
The missile itself looked to be manufactured from softer materials like maraging steel or carbonized nanofibers. The sheen on the missile’s exterior reminded Cammarry of a substance she had uncovered in a dead dome on Earth. That had been an exotic combination of graphenic weave, chromium, and titanium which had been layered on a section of that failed dome. There were no records indicating the purpose for that, and permalloy was the better choice, so Brink had not been very interested in that alloy. Cammarry had always wondered about the story behind it, but it remained a mystery.
“Jerome, I think they will like your bombardment ideas,” Cammarry said. “It is not from orbit, but those certainly look like weapons of some kind. And we, personally, cannot even get our Willie Blasters, or other weapons made.”
NS-99 locked down to the docking clamps, and the exterior hanger bay doors clanked shut. The large display at the back of the hanger bay, over the top of the observation deck scrolled messages of the process of depressurizing the bay and refilling it with earth-normal air. A number of yellow automacubes proceeded through the bay, spraying a foamy substance all over NS-99 and then sucking it back off. They did not do that to the missiles. Finally, all the procedures were completed. The exterior door was sealed. The Zalian light was blocked out, and the illumination in the bay returned to ordinary.
SB Louis Le Prince then announced, “You may safely leave your shuttle now. Proceed to the observation deck to meet with Colonel Harrison. Your shuttle will be serviced and refuel during your visit.”
Jerome tapped his com-link and opened a private channel. “Sandie? Are we still connected?”
“Yes, Jerome. I am taking it all in. NS-99 is working well as a relay point for our communications. I conjecture no problems with that.”
“Can Zeta monitor our conversations?” Cammarry interjected on her own private channel.
“No, Cammarry. I am randomly modulating the transmissions, and encrypting the conversations. I conjecture a very low possibility for any eavesdropping. However, your spoken words will be picked up by any sensitive audio microphones. It will only be your side of the conversation, but be alert to that
.”
Sandie switched from private channel to a dual channel where both Jerome and Cammarry could hear. “I am putting you both on this transmission. I believe you will need to hear what I have to say to each of you, and there may come a point where you need to both hear it at the same time. I also may announce certain items via the area audio feature so Alizon can also hear.”
“Sandie, what are all these missiles?” Jerome asked.
“They are delivery systems for a sizable payload,” Sandie replied. “They appear nearly ready for launch. NS-99’s detection equipment has picked up weak, radiological readings. At those levels they are not harmful, over a short term, but they do strongly suggest that these missiles are carrying specialized atomic weaponry.”
The Colony Ship Conestoga : The Complete Series: All Eight Books Page 200
