Lyssa's Run_A Hard Science Fiction AI Adventure Page 31 by M. D. Cooper
The AI paused.
Cal didn’t have time to process the information. He paused at an intersection and cleared the two side corridors, then heard voices from a doorway up ahead. He slid along the bulkhead wall until he made out Captain Harm’s voice, slurring words: “She’s not coming back. More split for us. I’m not staying any longer.”
Another woman answered, “You said you would wait. We’re waiting.”
“She said she was gone.”
Cal walked into the room with his rifle at his shoulder. The women stared at him in shock. He recognized the captain, Alys Harm, and noted from her ruddy face that she was drunk. The other woman must have been Rina Smith. They both put their hands up.
“We’re unarmed,” Smith said.
“What are you doing on my ship?” Harm demanded, blinking. “Who are you?”
“My name is Cal Kraft,” Cal answered, his helmet speaker flattening his voice. “I’m taking your ship to recover your lost crew member.”
“Why?” Smith said.
“Keep your hands up,” Cal commanded. “She stole Heartbridge property. Apparently, you know something about it.”
“She’s AWOL,” Harm said. “There’s only two places she can be. On your station or in one of those ships you’ve got mothballed, trying to steal a drive bottle or something like that. I don’t have time to background check these people. I bring them on for a run and then let them go then they screw up. This one obviously screwed up.”
“Shut up,” Cal said.
“Obviously, it’s in the contract that you can use the ship,” Harm continued, wiping her mouth as spittle ran down her chin. “I’m going to get paid. All I want to know is how long.” She spread her hands in a shrug. “I’m trying to run a business here.”
Cal shot the wall next to Harm’s head. Her ear sprayed blood, forcing her to clamp both hands to the wound. She wailed, eyes full of tears. “Why did you do that?”
“Shut your mouth or I’m going to use my plasma pistol to burn your lips off.”
Harm clamped her mouth closed and glared at Cal. He turned to Rina Smith. “Is there anyone else on this ship?”
“Chafri.” He was in his room.
“I found him,” Kraft said. He waved at the soldiers behind him. “Bring this one up to the command deck,” he said, pointing at Smith. “Put the captain in her quarters with a guard on her. Make sure she doesn’t have access to any weapons or anything she could hurt herself with. I don’t want her hanging herself with her bootlaces.”
The soldiers nodded and stepped in to grab Harm by both arms. She straightened with blood running down her neck.
Cal grimaced. “Take her to the autodoc first.”
He stepped back into the corridor and waved for Smith to follow him. “Which way is the command deck?” he said.
“That way,” she answered, pointing down the corridor.
Cal nodded to a soldier and told him to keep a weapon on Smith. He moved down the corridor until they reached the command deck, just as the navigator had said. Maybe Smith wasn’t as stupid as Sykes.
he said.
Cal sat in the pilot’s seat and pulled up the control systems. He checked the engine and fuel status for himself, verifying what Sandra had reported, then shifted to the frigate’s meager defense systems and shields. The only things the cargo freighter would be fighting were inbound meteorites and other space junk, and it wouldn’t do a good job of that either.
he said.
Cal said.
Cal nodded. Andy Sykes had killed Riggs Zanda and five Weapon Born remote robotic units back at Cruithne. Cal didn’t know how a washed up TSF pilot had accomplished such a feat but he wasn’t going to take any chances with the boarding party.
As he checked the pilot’s console, his gaze fell on a printed card someone had wedged into the corner above the holodisplay. He pulled it down and turned the card in his hands. It was the kind of thing tourists printed in kiosks, and showed a man and woman with two kids in front of a scene with green trees and blue sky, some orbital park made to look like Terra, or at least an artificial backdrop.
Cal realized he was looking at Andy and Brit Sykes and their two kids. They were smiling in the image, looking past the camera. Andy had the little girl in his lap and Brit was holding their son in her arms, a toddler still sucking his thumb.
He slapped the card against the knuckles of his other hand, staring through the holodisplay, then tucked the photo inside his armor. It would be interesting to pull it out later and show it to Brit Sykes, especially when he had her kids.
he said.
the AI answered.
Cal nodded.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
STELLAR DATE: 09.22.2981 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: Sunny Skies
REGION: Jovian L1 Hildas Asteroids, Jovian Combine, OuterSol
Andy felt disconnected, not understanding why Brit’s voice would be on the overhead audio. For a second, he thought it was another recording like the one she’d left in the weapons crate. Her voice was so different: raw, distant, punctuated by frantic breathing. She was using a helmet mic. The signal phased in and out, too weak to reach any farther.
He looked from Cara’s confused face to Fran, who was watching him with concern. Her flashing eyes met his and Fran’s face softened in a way he hadn’t seen before, as if she knew Brit’s voice was like a knife in his heart. More than ever, he felt that Fran truly cared about him. He didn’t know how he could return the emotion in her face.
Sound rushed back in. Alarms, static, the voice in the speaker. A list of actions rolled out in Andy’s mind, showing a way forward. His hands moved without thought. He acknowledged receipt of the signal and silenced the proximity alarms.
He flexed his jaw, mouth abruptly dry, and switched on the audio channel. “Incoming ship. This is the Worry’s End. I acknowledge your distress.” He paused. The protocol was for him to identify himself now. The acknowledgment was recorded in both ship’s databases.
“Who is this?” she demanded. “How fast can you get out of here?”
“This is Captain Andy Sykes,” he said.
The line went quiet. Pulses of static throbbed in the speakers.
“How is she here?” Cara asked, a strange mix of panic, wonder, and no small amount of rage in her voice. “Why would she be here?”
Andy tried to remember exactly what Brit had said in the recorded message. She had found another Heartbridge clinic and was going to raid it, shut it down. He couldn’t remember the words, only the excitement in her voice.
“Say again, Worry’s End?” Brit asked, her voice softer, the hard edge gone
“I authenticate your message, Britney Sykes. This is Captain Andy Sykes of the Worry’s End.” Andy bit the words off, barely able to unclench his teeth as he spoke. He glanced a
t the holodisplay, following the three incoming ships—two drones and one that had to be Brit—and then picked up six more drone fighters following those three.
When she didn’t answer, Andy took a long, shaky breath and leaned closed to his mic.
“Brit,” he said. “This is Andy. I don’t know how you’re here but I hear you. Now tell me what’s after you.”
More static pulsed, followed by the sound of shallow sobs. Her mic was still too close to her face. She sniffed. “I hear you. I hear you loud and clear. I don’t know what’s after me yet. Is that Sunny Skies? Did you change the registry?”
“We changed it at Cruithne.”
“I hate the name.”
Andy couldn’t help smirking at Fran. “You’re not alone. What’s going on, Brit? Who’s after you? How are you out here?”
“It’s Heartbridge. If you check the space beyond our approach path, you’ll find an unmarked station. And a fleet mothballed out there but I don’t know anything about that. I think they’re all Heartbridge. I took all their AI. All the AI they use for their drones except the ones they already had out on patrol. I’ve got someone else here with me. It’s Kylan. She says she saw us at 8221. She saw me. Do you remember Kylan?”
“I do,” Andy said. He would never forget that name.
Andy kept his gaze on the display he replied. He marked Brit’s ship and the two alongside it as friendly, then directed the sensors to a focused search in a cone spreading behind her shuttle. What should have been empty space contained one diffuse object, a small asteroid sparkling with returns must have been the station she was talking about.
“Damn,” Andy said. “Why didn’t this come up before?”
Fran studied the new information on her display. “They must have countermeasures actively denying sensors. If you hadn’t known this was here, you never would have picked it up.”
“And we were passing right by it.”
“Space is big,” Fran said.
From the communications console, Cara said, “I just found another directed signal from a beacon going toward Saturn, or maybe Callisto? They’re close to alignment from here.”
“A beacon?” Andy asked. He felt like they’d been sitting in the dark and had just turned on the lights to find the room full of snakes.
The hostile drones were closing on Brit. The sensor sweep of the station picked up a ship pulling away from the station. Its registry came up as TMS Mortal Chance, a freighter out of High Terra.
Andy activated the audio channel. “Brit, were you on the Mortal Chance?” he asked. “Is that how you got here?”
“Yes. Why?”
“They’re pulling away from the station, still getting past all those other ships. They appear to be heading this way.”
“The clinic doesn’t have anything larger than a shuttle. They must have taken control of the Mortal Chance to come after me.”
“That would make sense. How much range have you got in that shuttle?”
“I can get to you before I run out of fuel.”
Andy ran three quick simulations to see if Sunny Skies could start an exit burn while the Brit’s shuttle was still incoming. As slow as the Worry’s End was, it would still leave the little shuttle far behind.
“I’ve got you arriving in forty-eight minutes,” he said. “We’ll prep for a course change.”
he asked Fran privately.
Andy set his jaw.
She shrugged.
Andy said.
Fran shot Andy a wolfish grin.
He shook his head.
Fran said.
Fran shrugged.
“Brit,” Andy said. “I show forty-eight minutes until you’re within range to adjust and dock. I’m going to lay some fire on the drones following you.”
“Copy,” she answered.
“Mom?” Cara said, finally having mustered the courage to speak. Her voice was shaking. “Mom, what are you doing here?”
“Cara?” Static swept across the connection. “Cara, you sound so grown up. I— Let’s get through this and then I can tell you about it.”
Cara took a deep breath, the frustration plain on her face.
The channel closed, shutting off the static. Cara looked at Andy and Fran. “What are you going to tell Mom?” she asked.
“Tell your mom about what?” Andy said.
Cara blinked. “About you two?”
Andy stared. That had been the last thing on his mind. “We need to stay focused,” he said. “This isn’t the time to worry about things like that.”
Without missing a beat, Fran said, “Your mother and I fight to the death for ownership of your father’s balls.”
Cara look at Fran, who kept a bland look on her face, then they both started laughing.
Andy shook his head, staring hard at the display. “This is serious,” he said.
“Then I’ll die laughing,” Fran said, and patted him on the shoulder.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
STELLAR DATE: 09.22.2981 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: Mortal Chance
REGION: Jovian L1 Hildas Asteroids, Jovian Combine, OuterSol
The control systems on the Mortal Chance were at least a hundred years old. Cal glared at the holodisplay, watching Britney Sykes get closer to her destination then finally disappear from the sensors. The exhaust output from the Worry’s End grew richer as the ship prepped for additional thrust.
“They can’t escape and they know it,” he said and glanced at Rina Smith who was sitting on the deck with her back to the wall while one of Gibb’s squad stood guard over her. The woman was staring at the flooring between her shoes and hadn’t heard him.
Cal pulled up the engine status and checked the fuel levels. The Mortal Chance was sitting on roughly half its fuel.
he said.
he asked.
Cal nodded.
He had a good idea of the answer but wanted to know what the AI thought. He had worked with Heartbridge’s SAI enough to know they weren’t necessarily smarter t
han smart people. They were, however, better at maintaining dispassionate consideration of a problem. With access to more information simultaneously the SAI could synthesize it with a focus people usually lacked. But they suffered the same ontological problems as humans: they couldn’t think outside the box very well, and didn’t realize when a base assumption was wrong.
Cal said.
Cal had recalled the Mercy’s Intent, which had continued on to Callisto to pick up a new shift of technicians. Fortunately, they hadn’t gotten far, and the ship would be on station at Clinic 46 in twelve hours. He could float in a shuttle for twelve hours if necessary.
The problem with destroying the Worry’s End was that Britney Sykes had his Weapon Born seeds, and it was looking more and more like Andy Sykes would have the AI Hari Jickson stole. This was all wrapping up too neatly. He tapped the console and sat back, wondering how someone might be manipulating all this. Was it the Heartbridge board? Why?
He had long suspected some person or organization had helped Hari Jickson escape his test facility with both an AI Seed and his prototype mobile surgery. The feat had required a ship, resources, and cunning—all things Hari Jickson hadn’t demonstrated when Cal had met him.
Cal glanced at Rina Smith. He had to respect her composure considering the circumstances.
“Hey,” he said. When she didn’t answer, the guard nudged her with the buttstock of his rifle.
Smith moved her head to the side and glared at Cal.
“Yes?” she said.
“Where are you from?”
“TMS Mortal Chance.”
“Originally,” he corrected. Cal studied her, liking the fight she put up. She had Mediterranean coloring combined with the long limbs of a childhood spent in low-g.
“The Cho,” she said. “I was born there but I’ve been working long-haul freight for the last ten years.”
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