ARTIS PRIME

by Tobias Roote

  ‘We need to be gone by then,’ RIGA observed calmly.

  She swung the nose of their ship around to proceed along the top of the port engine. Keeping as close to the hull as she dared, giving the Mirage’s active sensors nothing to work with, while heading to the port side of the hull. Then, seeing the last target come into range, fired the laser. The final clutch of sensors, melted, flowing back into the hull under the powerful and unrelenting beam.

  ‘Clear to proceed to exit point,’ RIGA now confirmed to Gossie, who was busy plotting their escape trajectory.

  A missile lock warning sounded, forcing RIGA to divert her attention to the shuttle coming up behind them. A very dangerous strategy, RIGA thought, this close to their own ship. An explosion of that size would blow out the port quadrant of the Mirage, possibly the engine too. Worse still, if it set off the antimatter drives there would be nothing left of either ship. They would be better off using blasters, or lasers.

  “HALT! Or we fire,” came a new voice, young, not confident enough to sound convincing, RIGA thought. The comms unit squelched with feedback as she pressed the transmit button. No such interference would occur with her mental ‘voice’, but she had to maintain human appearances when dealing with everyone outside the ship. Should her cover be blown she would be useless to the ESSG as a human/AI diplomat.

  “No, you won’t. Not unless you want to blow up your own ship. We have antimatter drives,” RIGA responded.

  RIGA mentally spoke to Gossie. ‘GO’ watching as the AI deftly manipulated the ship’s thrusters to align them for their escape.

  The hull shuddered as a blaster beam hit them; nowhere important, RIGA noted from the damage report. The hull integrity held; the shimmering cloak doing its job of hampering the enemy’s targeting. They could only aim manually and shooting was not easy from a shuttle not designed for a space battle.

  “Trajectory achieved, going for burn – NOW!” Gossie chimed out loud releasing the immense power of the ship’s two antimatter engines.

  The tiny messenger ship arced upwards using the hull of the larger ship as a launch pad. Both engines at full power thrusting the ship off the Mirage at an angle, taking advantage of the corridor of blindness from the deadened sensors. Within seconds the ship was hurtling away from the enemy ship, preparing to enter hyperspace as soon as clear.

  “Incoming,” Gossie announced.

  “The stupid boy!” RIGA exclaimed. He clearly did not know how big a detonation there would be if he succeeded in hitting them with a missile.

  RIGA’s hands spun over the weapons control grid sending a dozen doppler heat bombs spraying from the hull. The heat dissipation from the dopplers would mimic RIGA’s ship’s drive signature to confuse the targeting sensors on enemy missiles. It was a new design under field test. RIGA always got the latest innovative weapons from ESSG’s Military labs. They knew she would get the opportunity to test them to the limit. Whilst the normal fleet vessels were instructed to avoid all confrontation.

  The distant blast of the missile registered on their rear sensor output indicating a successful interception, as Gossie shunted the antimatter drive, transferring them into hyperspace. Nothing followed them into the funnel, and as the hole collapsed behind them, it effectively sealed off any pursuit. RIGA relaxed her taut frame, and sunk into the chair.

  “Dammation! That’s the third incident in two days. These bounty hunters have got to be tracking us somehow,” RIGA vented. When she was vexed she used human emotions to express herself. A habit important when working alongside humans, but strangely awry in her AI controlled ship in the middle of empty space.

  “You should do an external hull sweep when we dock, we might have a hidden locator magnetically attached,” Gossie offered, by way of calming her AI friend’s agitated state. It was true, they had been chased relentlessly these last few weeks since returning from visiting the new Terran space station. The upgrades to the drives had required time in the dock at ESIQ5. All Empirum Secret Intelligence research stations were very hush-hush, known to only a few. It was however, the only likely explanation that Gossie could consider.

  “That would mean someone in the secure naval yards was in the pay of the bounty hunters. Which, incidentally, would also explain why they were able to anticipate our route and ETA to Artis Prime. How on Epsilon they managed to pull us out of hyperspace like that, I have no idea.” RIGA mused.

  “We will pass the logs back to Bollida; he can track down the equipment needed for that, it’s certainly not military issue.”

  “I will process the archived logs from the last docking and see if anything shows up.” Gossie said.

  “Fine. Damage report please Gossie?” RIGA asked changing the subject.

  “We have damage to aft thruster on port side. Damage from the shuttle blaster is superficial, but I suspect we have a black scorch mark along our hull. The tractor beam squashed two of our external sensors. I cannot system test the rear inspection hatch doors, I suspect they are also suffering compression damage from the tractor beam.” Gossie reeled off the list of minor damage.

  None of it quantified as an immediate excuse for docking at one of the black ops maintenance yards. Shame, seeing as they always got upgraded when docked at any of their facilities. It was where most new equipment was tested and released to selected fleet ships. RIGA’s was considered a primary recipient of anything that filtered through the military’s test procedures.

  As they dropped out of hyperspace to change course, the ship slid through the exit cloud it had itself created seconds before and entered normal space. The cloaking module was enabled automatically while external defences showed as ‘Active’ on the weapons display. Their escape from the Mirage meant they had taken the nearest hyperspace route of convenience. Now, it was necessary to re-route their ship to Artis Prime using a different pathway to avoid a recurrence of the anomaly.

  Three days later they arrived at Artis Prime, and while Gossie moved into dock for repairs she sent off a full debriefing to Bollida, her boss at ESSG. She knew the ES Mirage would be put on a hunted list for the Empirum Navy, and ‘Captain Jessie’ would eventually be caught, tried and executed. The Empirum had zero tolerance for pirates and smugglers. They were often caught due to carelessness after a long, drawn out campaign of terror, torture and killing of innocents. As a result they were considered scum by all. RIGA kept note of all her enemies - it kept her one step ahead of them - most of the time. She thought nothing more of the matter. Pirates and bounty hunters were her daily meal ticket.

  RIGA was immune from any prosecution on any planet of the Empirum. Her diplomatic credentials were deliberately unassailable. This was just as well, as between her assignments for ESSG and LEXON, RIGA was pretty busy staying alive. There was no way she had time to sweep up behind her, so there were often enquiries and reports flying around, which she managed to ignore, leaving Bollida to clean up. She used her immunity to the fullest when operating anywhere in Empirum space.

  ***

  Deep below the surface the entity that called itself ‘The Curator’ watched the arrival of the small pencil shaped vessel, noting with interest the dark blaster smear along its side. It activated a link to the asteroid’s comms satellite relay, spoofing the security ID to access the satellite's log and identified the occupant and designation. An agent’s report to the head of ESSG was queued for sending. It downloaded a ghost copy, and scanned the contents.

  Chuckling as it replayed the log of the encounter, it noted with concern the anomaly pipe and tactics used by the ES Mirage. This was a new development, a hyperspace snare was an uncommon tool for pirates and bounty hunters. In fact, there was nowhere in the Empirum that this equipment was manufactured, which meant the ES Mirage was not what it was pretending to be.

  The Curator opened an untraceable link to the Warden, the AI in control of Helis. Covertly accessing the ship records system held by the main registry, it in turn connected to Epsilon Gamma, kept current with every ship movement ca
rrying snippet updates of shipping records, replicating registration data across Empirum space.

  Until six months ago, the ES Mirage was listed as a deep space exploration vessel, owned and run by the Kangar consortium on Zeta Nine. It was recorded as lost with all hands and a formal ACR, Asset Compensation Report was filed. The idea of possible Kangar involvement worried The Curator, as it pulled up the report.

  The ES Mirage reported missing on 2145.6.02 after being out of communication for the preceding ninety one days. SAR drones sent to the [redacted] system under exploration indicate that the possibility of the vessel’s survival intact to be unlikely. The ship retained a crew of forty two humans and one AI. Captained by Frank Jessie, an experienced ex-Fleet Officer who had a proven track record for discovering highly productive mining planets. The ship’s last transmission indicated it had located a potential new source of Prudonium as well as the usual staple ores required for space alloy production. No follow up mission is being considered. All financial compensation is fully paid up at time of ACR lodgement.

  Losses accrued: 66,394,564.- Empirum Credits[EC].

  Files appended: Crew list, Asset references, Maintenance Roster, Service Records. System Star Charts: Withheld.

  Interesting that it should reappear as a pirate vessel posing as a bounty hunter, especially using the hypersnare. Pulling up the recording of the anomaly prior to the entrapment, the Curator pored over the data trying to find something to identify its origin. If what it suspected was true, there was a new game afoot. One that could complicate its own plans. Was the Captain after the agent, RIGA, or the new technology on the ship, or both?

  It decided that Agent RIGA was right to suspect a mole in the secure defence yards. It knew all too well that there were a number of large leaks in the Empirum military research sector. The Curator decided to place additional resources on the network to monitor any unusual activity. It had the strongest feeling that this represented the opening gambit of a new player.

  A new light flickered on in the darkened control room distracting it. Good! The Mantis was still making progress on repairing the faulty connections. The Curator eagerly transferred its attention to the slowly increasing power source. It looked forward to the day when it could break free of its dark and unrelenting prison.

  2. Another Close Encounter

  The body lay on the bed. The even-paced rise and fall of the young slim athletic chest the only indication of life. The nasal muscles dilated minutely as the lungs gently inhaled. The skin was perfect, with a pale lustre, covered in fine hair that acted as an early warning system to air and temperature change or proximity of danger. The body, perfectly formed and honed to perfection by a combination of synthetic muscle and tendon, looked robust and ready to run a marathon uphill in a full-sized spacesuit with backpack. It could - easily.

  There was no eye movement signifying REM or other lighter levels of sleep. Other than the breathing, it was completely still, no twitches, sound or signs of life at all, not even a heartbeat. Yet, it was alive.

  Capillary action fed oxygen directly to the artificial DNA impregnated skin, keeping it healthy through a fine network of nutrient-based liquids that maintained the bio-synthetic flesh. Special lubricants ensured the different joints and cartilage would manage the superhuman loads they would have to bear, often, and for long periods.

  Deep in the recesses of the body, the biological battery required to sustain life, pulsed briefly as it achieved full charge. A tiny flash of light, leapt across the artificial ganglion, and travelled the internal conduit of minute optic fibre nerves running the length of the artificial spinal cord, into the brain stem. The spark arrived in less than a millisecond, alerting the biological sentinel that its power cell was full, and the body was ready to return to active status.

  A virtual screen flashed up in the front of the unit’s electronic optic receptors, commands scrolled up as pre-determined action was initiated.

  .

  > Unit: Prototype-AM: Regenerating Independent Genetic Android/Artificial Intelligence unit AMYA/4B.

  > System reset complete 07:00HRS APT.

  > Maintenance Mode: COMPLETE.

  > Neural Network: OPTIMAL.

  > Surveillance systems: OPTIMAL.

  > Threat Level: NO THREAT DETECTED.

  > Defence Perimeter: SET; NON-HOSTILE.

  > Location: ARTIS PRIME: HELIS CITY.

  > Coordinates: 124:12 243:44 4156:235R.

  > Galactic Star Date: 2145,12,14.

  > Task Schedule: UPLOADED.

  > Unit Readiness: RIGA,AI; OPERATIONAL.

  .

  RIGA awoke and slipped off the divan where she had lain motionless for the last ten hours. It wasn’t often she required recharging, but the trip from Epsilon Gamma had been another gauntlet run. LEXON Corporation wouldn’t give up trying to secure her, and the reward for her capture kept going up. Bounty hunters would take the risk knowing it was a probable suicide mission; always believing their luck would prevail, or desperate to pay off their debts and retire. Twenty-one of the hunters LEXON had sent so far, had lost the gamble and paid with their lives.

  Light entered the room from the large window set into the wall. Looking out, RIGA got a glimpse of Helis, an artificial city on a planetoid filled with AI’s. It should be her home, but the laws here forbade her membership, not that she had applied. They didn’t know who, or what she was, such was her agreement with the ESSG.

  RIGA had unknown origins, and the local citizens (they referred to themselves as Alders) feared infiltration by TransGens; humans that had transferred into artificial bodies. It was an old and outdated concern. The extermination wars they had brought about, were now a long way back in the Galactic Empirum’s history.

  The sunrise here was always spectacular. There were no naturally growing plants, trees or flowers on this barren satellite. Recently, a variety of plant-life had sprung up in the human habitat zones, primarily to accommodate human needs for recreational areas. These were contained in domes that linked to the human inhabited accommodation pods. The elegantly tall buildings made possible by low gravity, provided a commanding view of the city. The constant dance of the shiny specks of anti-grav vehicles, which swooped and dived amongst them, was a spectacle tourists paid to come and see. The backdrop of stars and the nearness of open space created a hypnotic effect that they appeared to enjoy.

  Helis was centre to an ultra modern technocratic government, and the city was always undergoing change as more efficient means of construction brought new designs into their buildings. The continuing desire to create grand architecture, as a show-piece to other worlds who purchased their advanced technology, meant Artis Prime had found its place in the near universe. Helis was its only city, which was sprawled over a surface area the size of a small moon. Other than the domed areas the moonlet was open to near vacuum of space, as the gravity struggled to hold onto the leaking gas from ice conversion, and the high industrial pollution from the Alder industries.

  Rumour was, that Artis Prime had developed around a hollow asteroid that had been built on, growing and expanding by adding levels, until it spawned its latest iteration. There seemed no basis for such a belief, but there certainly were many levels to the satellite’s construction, with no evidence of entrances deeper than the currently uninhabited level five.

  Mostly full of redundant materials and machinery that wasn’t worth removing, level five was a dumping ground for the manufacturing and industrial wastes of levels three and four. Robots were contained in level two as well as much of the servicing and repair work for the planet’s AI’s. No Alder would live anywhere but the surface and ascendant levels.

  RIGA’s mental reminder nagged. It was time to prepare for her appointment. Naked, she walked across the plush carpet pile to the privacy cubicle, and turned on the sonic shower to remove the dirt and grime from her body. It was more ritual than requirement, as she was able to generate her own sonic cleanser. However, for some obscure reason, RIGA found
the act of using the dedicated showers more enjoyable.

  As she shut off the sonics and stepped out, the cubicle evacuated the minuscule detritus she had picked up on her recent travels. Analysis would show a predominance of DNA. Humans shed their skin everywhere, so to ensure her cover remained intact, RIGA had to emulate that process in these sonic showers, where the residue would be examined, and the information filed.

  This society was more paranoid than most. They recorded virtually everything that happened on Artis Prime. Those humans that visited would be disturbed to know how much information was held about them by the time they left the asteroid. As the Alders were banned from visiting the humans’ planets, they obsessed over information about them, maintaining vast databases that perversely, were rarely interrogated.

  RIGA, still naked and shaking off the tingling of her artificial skin which responded to the change in air temperature, walked across the room to her personal capsule left by the divan. It was keyed to her biometrics, as well as ESSG designed tamper proof protocols. As she depressed the button that released the hidden catch, the cylinder creased along its length, opening itself outward so that it now displayed a set of open sections.

  Selecting the clothes she had packed for the appointment, along with a few other items, the sections slid silently closed. Pressing a decorative bezel on the edge of the cylinder, a hidden compartment opened up to reveal a small black bag tightly packed within.

  Picking up the bag by its drawstring, RIGA opened it and tipped some of the contents into her hand. The small circular iridescent flakes refracted in the early morning light, dazzling her optics. Her eye shades automatically engaged as she continued to examine them.

  They were priceless, each representing the latest technology in memory augmentation. They were designed and built by humans on a Terran planet outside of Empirum space. RIGA’s job was to sell these to the Technocratic Council leaders in exchange for sponsorship to the Galactic Empirum. The chips in her hand were worth a fortune. The Terrans wanted the ability to sell their technology directly; these were a bribe to establish their value to the Empirum members.