Archangel Project 2: Noa's Ark

by C. Gockel

  Into her mind he spoke through the new cipher. “You seem … tense. A grain of rice for your thoughts?”

  It took a moment for her to process the Heian Japanese equivalent of “a penny for your thoughts.” It was funny, but she couldn’t bring herself to smile. “I want to murder some people,” she confessed through their secret cipher. A long breath escaped her, and a weight lifted from her chest.

  His brows rose in real life; he looked beyond her to the monitor showing the tick. His jaw shifted. “I find I’m divided on that.” His professor avatar looked at Noa and said, “In my other life I always argued that the death penalty had no place.”

  Noa snorted. Aloud she said, “It has a place in combat.”

  “But is this combat?” James’s avatar said, putting its hands behind its back. “They are technically not part of an organized fighting force. There are many arguments against the death penalty: its perceived effectiveness, problems inherent in guaranteeing a fair trial, to …” James stopped using the cipher, and the real James said aloud, “… ad hominem tu quoque—”

  Noa scowled at the unfamiliar language.

  In full professor mode, James’s avatar waved a hand and explained, “Two wrongs don’t make a right. Some people would say that advocating death in instances when it is not immediately necessary for self-defense makes the executioner just as guilty as the criminal, at least in circumstances where their continued imprisonment can be guaranteed.”

  Noa’s jaw ground. Aloud she said, “Philosophy doesn’t interest me, only practicalities. Allow them to live and Kline will go on pulling his stunts on people less able to defend themselves. But we can’t kill them; they’re members of the Guild. Mining guilds can’t allow their members to be executed without fair trial.”

  “Gunny said sometimes that doesn’t even stop them,” mumbled James.

  Noa acknowledged that by pinching the bridge of her nose. “If they don’t fight back against perceived injustice, their members would withdraw and they’d lose their dues.” She huffed. “Technically, we’ve claimed the Ark for the Galactic Fleet, but we don’t even have enough officers aboard for a proper Fleet field trial. I doubt they’d accept it.”

  Eyes sweeping back to hers, James said aloud, “And duct taping them naked to the seats won’t cause the Guild to seek revenge?”

  Noa snapped her hands behind her back and felt her nails bite into her wrists. She heard a chair squeak and knew Kuin was paying extra attention now. “I’m banking on the situation giving the Guild a laugh, and allowing them to let it slide. Guilds don’t like to exact revenge, it’s expensive.”

  “Not very reassuring.” James’s voice was dry.

  She shook her head; second guessing was the enemy of action. Tim would say, “General Custer thought that way, too.” But the Ark’s crew wasn’t so much the cavalry as the Native Americans in this case.

  James ducked his head. Across the ether, in his cipher, he whispered, “Noa, I care more about you—us—than about philosophical inquiries into what constitutes murder. I think that might be … wrong.”

  So professorial. It relieved her for some reason. “Welcome to the real world,” she said.

  He huffed. “Is it?”

  Before she had a chance to ask what he meant, Manuel’s voice cracked across the shared channel. “Commander, we’re aboard!”

  “Are we going to go to Adam’s Station?” Kara, the shy engineering student, thought across the general channel. Noa felt a jolt of emotion itching to explode into her neural net with Kara’s thoughts. Noa didn’t let the emotion enter in pure form, but she let her apps digest and identify it. It was excitement.

  “Oh, I’m sorry!” Kara thought. “I didn’t meant to feel—think—that aloud. My apps need a reboot, I think.”

  “Are we going there?” said Kuin quickly, spinning around in his seat.

  Ghost spoke over the ether. “If we could purchase a refurbished time band and dispersers, we could shave months off our trip.”

  “We could also get more toilet goop!” said Kuin excitedly. “Ejecting that for thrust during our escape was brilliant … but we had to turn off half of the toilets on the ship.”

  Noa touched her neural interface, trying to block out the young engineer’s enthusiasm.

  “We’d also be announcing ourselves to thousands,” Manuel said over the general channel.

  “The Luddeccean Guard is busy minding Time Gate 8. They won’t send out the armada against us,” said Ghost. “We’re gone. We’re not their problem anymore.”

  James’s eyes met Noa’s. His jaw ticked. She could feel the weight of his gaze. The Luddeccean Guard had special interest in him … and her. Under his breath, James said, “That’s a lot to hope for. They seem … obsessive.”

  Noa let out a breath, remembering the party the Guard sent to find her and James after her escape from the prison camp. Her eyes went to the monitor showing the tick. “But we’re not safe here, either.”

  “No,” James said softly.

  Noa rubbed her jaw. To the ether at large she said, “If we go to this … Adam’s Station … we’ll need to pay for our supplies. What are we going to use?”

  “We could sell 6T9,” Ghost suggested.

  “No!” snapped Eliza over the ether.

  “6T9 won’t buy us time bands and the dispersers,” Manuel replied, sounding tired.

  A movement in the periphery of Noa’s vision made her glance at James’s avatar, still alight in her mind. He was frowning. It was so strange to see so much emotion in James. “What’s wrong?” she asked him. She expected some rational objection, or an idea for something to sell, but James’s avatar shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  Manuel’s thoughts cut through the shared channel. “We also have a lot of empty cabins. We could take out any extra metal and sell it for scrap—and with 6T9 …”

  “No one is selling 6T9,” Noa hissed across the channel. “Eliza needs him, and so do you, Manuel. He’s your number one babysitter. Any other ideas besides scrap?”

  Eliza chirped up. “If they have lightbeam access to Libertas, I have one million Libertas credits in the Libertas System 8 Bank.”

  The ether went silent. Pivoting on his heels, James raised a brow in Noa’s direction. “Libertas is the only planet in this system that is completely self-sufficient. Their credits might actually be worth something.”

  Noa let out a huff of relief. “Yes, it might …” Over the ether, she said, “Eliza, how do you have a million Libertas credits?”

  “Arbitrage,” 6T9 answered for her, sounding terribly proud. “She has accounts in several systems.”

  “Why?” said Noa, shaking her head.

  “I’m Jewish,” Eliza said across the ether. “We remember it’s always important to be able to leave.”

  Noa opened her mouth—and her mind—prepared to say that there had never been any anti-Semitic movements on Luddeccea in 300 years, and then she caught herself. The lesson held if you didn’t toe the party line. Her eyes slid to James. Or couldn’t toe the party line because you were hyper-augmented.

  “Good plan,” said Manuel across the ether. “Commander, a million Libertas credits should be enough—even if there has been inflation since …”

  Ghost chimed in, “The sooner we get lightspeed, the better.”

  Gunny’s thoughts entered the ether. “It’s the best option, Commander.”

  Noa crossed her arms and looked at James. “There aren’t any good options,” she murmured.

  James shook his head. “No.”

  “We’ll head to Adam’s Station,” Noa said. “Ghost, could you—”

  “I’m sending you a course now, Commander,” her computing officer said. “It’s pieced together with the most recent map of the belt I could find.” A 3D map of the region started playing before her eyes. It showed the Ark’s current location and known asteroids delineated by solid blue lines and suspected asteroids outlined by dashed lines. Noa rolled back on her feet. She had no
idea that the Ark’s computer could devise something so complex … it hadn’t even been able to tell her which time band had been malfunctioning … and Ghost said it wouldn’t be secure against the tick … yet he had been able to break into the tick’s computer easily enough. She shook her head. The first could be a problem in the local circuitry around the malfunctioning band, and the second could be because the Ark hadn’t had ethernet capabilities originally. The local ether they did have was new and bound to have peculiarities. “Thank you, Ghost,” Noa said, swinging into her pilot chair.

  There was a chorus of “yes” over the ether. And Ghost, sounding excited as anyone else, said, “We could find some interesting tech in that yard.”

  “Engineers,” Noa huffed, not without affection.

  She caught Kuin grinning happily in the corner of her eye. “You’re dismissed,” she said to him.

  As he scampered away, James took his place. He wasn’t as excited as the engineers. Neither was Noa. To reassure him, or herself, Noa said, “If the Guard sent a small squadron into the belt and to Adam’s Station to try and retrieve us, it could turn ugly for them. Their jurisdiction isn’t recognized out here … most of the inhabitants in this system who aren’t denizens of Luddeccea don’t like the Luddeccean Authority.”

  “I’m not saying we’re not choosing the least bad option,” James said.

  Noa gripped the steering bars, but her shoulders fell. She reached out to Ghost across the ether. “Ghost, as soon as we’re close enough, could you check the public lightbeam transmissions to see if the Guard has put a bounty on us?”

  His reply was instantaneous, and his tone was unctuous. “Of course, Commander!”

  Over the ether, directly to her channel, with their own private Genji cipher, James mused, “Ghost is very helpful when his interests align with everyone else’s.”

  “What’s that, Professor Sinclair?” Ghost asked.

  Noa’s and James’s eyes met. Ghost shouldn’t be listening to their private channels, but as they suspected, he was listening in. Noa gave James a wry smile. He tipped his head.

  “Oh … oh …” Ghost said. “I see, that was a private comment. I’ve been trying to monitor all channels since our guests arrived … I’m sorry to intrude.”

  Noa’s lips pursed. Plausible … but Noa didn’t believe him for a moment. Instead of calling him out on it, she said, “Good thinking, Ghost.”

  “Ready to release the tick, Commander,” said Gunny.

  “Let it go,” said Noa. There was a soft sound from the hull as the craft released. The hairs on back of Noa’s neck stood on end. She sucked in a long breath and shivered. In the periphery of her vision she saw James turn to her.

  “How long will Ghost's interests align with ours?” he said aloud, tapping his armrest.

  She shifted in her seat, and couldn't meet his gaze. “Hopefully, a really long time.”

  Chapter Four

  James sat in the co-pilot seat watching scarred and pockmarked asteroids drift above the ship. Seemingly caught in the current of a lazy river, the asteroids were actually moving at speeds close to 35,000 km per hour; they just appeared to move slowly relative to the Ark.

  At any moment, they might be spotted by the Luddeccean sensors. A fighter-carrier could arrive within minutes. But over the uneventful hours, James’s emotions had passed from fear to fascination with their cold, silent neighbors, to a state of boredom that was close to putting him to sleep.

  Everything was relative … not just physics. His lips wanted to quirk, but couldn't. He huffed in frustration, and then a blue glow on one of the larger rocks caught his eye. Leaning forward, he whispered, “What?”

  “Hmmm … We’re almost there,” Noa said. Across the ether, she called out, “Ghost, can you plug into the public board yet?”

  “Still out of range, Commander,” Ghost replied. “Or the asteroids are in the way.”

  James’s eyes remained fixated on the glow. As they approached, it took form. “Is that a neon sign?”

  “Sure,” said Gunny. “Can’t expect business out here to just find you.”

  The sign became large enough to make out neatly rendered words: Eat, Drink, Have a Good Time. Full gravity and showers! There were also outlines of a fork, a glass, and a woman and man pressed very close together, gyrating their hips.

  The neon sign passed them by, and James craned his head to watch it disappear. A shadow blocked his view for a moment. He blinked and it was gone.

  He turned down to the monitors, perhaps too quickly, because Noa asked in an alarmed-sounding voice, “What is it?”

  Quickly surveying the monitors, James shook his head. “I thought I saw something move. But no one’s out there, not on the screens or temperature gauges.”

  “Scan the frequencies for contact,” Noa said. “Gunny, try to get a visual.”

  James played with the dials of the ancient comm station and got nothing. It had been so easy to contact Time Gate 8—maybe because they wanted to be contacted? Searching the frequencies, he got static, but then he lifted his eyes and saw another shadow temporarily blot the stars. It had a thick body and long legs. The shadow disappeared, but he’d seen enough. James projected the image over the ether, and Gunny said, “A tick. It’s hopping rock to rock. I think it might be following us.”

  Noa called out over the same channel, “Ghost, do you have contact yet?”

  Another shadow dipped below the ecliptic plane and the asteroids, and then another, and then they both darted back up and behind an asteroid.

  James’s hand paused on the comm controls. “Two more.”

  “Ghost,” Noa said. “We’ve got company! They’re mighty curious and evasive. Any contact with the station yet?”

  “I’m trying, Commander! The asteroids are blocking our signals,” Ghost replied.

  “Too much like Six,” Gunny muttered. James glanced at his companions and noticed Gunny was breathing heavily and his brow was damp with sweat, and Noa's chest was rising and falling too fast.

  A loud thump sounded from the direction of their feet and James felt the faintest of vibrations in his seat.

  “Chavez, your side, meters from the stern,” Noa said without glancing at any read-outs. James looked at the monitor. There was a tick moving up the hull, looking like an enormous mechanical spider.

  “I see it,” Chavez responded. In his monitor, James saw the helmet and shoulders of Chavez’s space suit appear, one of the small cannons they’d “re-appropriated” from the “scavengers” on her shoulder. The weapon’s recoil dampener at the end of the stock was already primed and glowing blue. Inside the Ark, it was heavy and cumbersome, but the ship's gravity didn't extend outside the hull, and Chavez aimed it at the tick in an easy motion.

  Ghost’s voice came over James’s shoulder. “Fire, woman, don’t be an idiot!”

  Chavez’s voice cracked again across the ether. “Commander?”

  “Fire,” Noa said.

  In the monitor James saw a brief beam of plasma fire, the surge of the recoil dampener, and then implosion with the tick. Sparks shimmered along the body of the smaller vessel. The tick’s legs convulsed, and it let go of the Ark’s keel. Chavez hit it with another bolt of plasma and the small vessel drifted backward from the force of the burst.

  James almost breathed a sigh of relief but his eyes went from the monitors to the skylight. Heat flared along his spine. Before them, shadows were blotting out the stars, appearing to crawl over one another in open space, a cloud of writhing black bodies. Gunny swore under his breath. Noa inhaled sharply.

  “There are lots more of them!” Chavez said.

  James looked back to the monitors. More ticks were falling out of the asteroids behind them.

  “Blow a hole through them with a cannon,” Ghost said.

  The Ark’s cannon was enough to destabilize the massive fighter carriers of the Luddeccean Guard’s Armada. It would turn the ticks into dust. But …

  “The forward cannon wou
ldn’t take out the ones behind us,” James whispered. “They’d swarm us.”

  “Commander?” Gunny said.

  “Hold your fire,” said Noa.

  A silence settled in the ether and the bridge. It seemed to stretch for years—but James’s chronometer apps registered it as only three minutes.

  “Commander,” Ghost said, “I really think—” Before he could finish the thought, the ticks immediately in front of the ship cleared a path.

  “What are they doing?” Gunny said.

  James’s eyes widened. They'd moved so suddenly, en masse. “They have to be communicating,” he said, scanning the channels, searching for the frequency they were utilizing. A burst of static and fragmented words assailed his ears.

  “Ghost, we have to be in range of the station’s local ether. Find out what they have on us!” Noa ordered.

  The static under James’s fingertips faded out and then rushed to life again. He looked over the ancient control dials for a way to augment the signal.

  “I think I’ve got something!” Ghost said. “Very faint.”

  James found a tiny knob with all of its numbers and letters rubbed away. He turned it slowly. The dash cracked, and a wave of voices burst forth, for a moment giving him flashbacks to the confrontation with Time Gate 8. But then the signal stabilized and the voices were noticeably human.

  “I’m in Adam’s Station’s ether!” Ghost exclaimed. “Scanning the public boards now, Commander.”

  “If we find out they’ve got a bounty on us, we’re not going to be able to run far,” Gunny muttered.

  “I thought you approved of this plan,” Noa said.

  “It was the best option, not a good option,” Gunny muttered.

  Through the dash burst voices. “Unknown ship, unknown ship, come in, come in.”

  “Do you need some repairs? We’ll trade repairs for food.”

  “I’ll trade anything for food.”

  “Need a guide to the belt? We can help.”

  There was a buzz of static and James heard, “Don’t fire … if they have rations, don’t want to blow them to bits …”