“So how did you get him to talk?” Middleton asked as they entered the shuttle bay.
“I didn’t,” Lynch replied with a snort. “And I went farther in my attempts than you will…at least I went farther back then than you will today.”
“Then I’m missing something,” Middleton said as they arrived at the base of the ramp.
Lynch sighed and rolled his eyes. He gestured to the Lancers briefly before a sour look came over his face, and he instead turned to a team of workers who were repairing the ‘new’ shuttlecraft he had provided them. It was a different model than their old assault shuttle, but this particular version was significantly faster while also sporting significantly less armor. Fortunately they had enough spare shield generators that they were able to effectively double the craft’s overall protection by installing an extra shield generator.
“Them people,” Lynch said, gesturing to the engineers, “they follow you because of what they see you do. That uniform, these badges, your title,” he gestured to Middleton’s rank insignia, “they ain’t worth nothin’. They only tell a story about who you is, where you been, and what you done. So when they,” he tilted his head toward the crew working on the shuttle, “see you standin’ tall against the world, they stand tall too. And if you don’t break, they won’t break. But if they see you fall…well…” he met Middleton’s eyes for several seconds, and the Pride’s captain understood the other man’s message perfectly—and he found the suggestion more than a little distasteful, to say nothing of blatantly illegal, immoral, and in every other way diametrically opposed to the principles for which his uniform stood. “Some might stay strong for a spell, but not all of ‘em,” Lynch added pointedly, “not even fanatics. Everybody’s got their limits.”
Middleton suspected the man was actually right, but there was no way he could simply throw away everything his career had stood for—let alone endanger the careers, and lives, of the people who had followed him this far. “Have a good flight,” Middleton said, offering his hand to the arms dealer.
Lynch nodded knowingly as he accepted the hand, “You too, Tim.” The man’s grip was vice-like, and almost certainly unnatural, but Middleton kept his best poker face as he did his best to return the favor. Lynch grinned and released his hand before ascending the ramp. When he reached the top, he turned as though he had forgotten something, “Oh, and Tim, I got a couple packages I’d like you to personally see to delivering for me—if it ain’t too much trouble?”
Middleton nodded, “I think we can arrange it.”
“Good,” Lynch said, his grin fierce as he slapped the panel inside the craft, prompting the ramp to rise up slowly, “you’ll find ‘em with the Starfires. Make ‘em count.”
Captain Middleton nodded as the ramp closed completely, and the shuttle bay’s alarm sounded. The technicians stopped their work and made for the main doors, while Middleton and the Lancers followed.
Twenty hours later to the minute, the yacht point transferred out of the system. During that time, the Pride of Prometheus picked up the cargo container which Lynch had left for them and stowed its contents in the shuttle bay.
Ten minutes after Lynch’s new ship left the system, the Pride did likewise.
Chapter XLVI: The Final Nail
“You’re certain of this?” Middleton asked, looking back and forth between Fei Long and Jo after reviewing their report.
“Yes,” they replied in unison, but Jo leaned forward and Fei Long bowed deferentially to her as she explained, “I can’t tell you exactly what it came from but that is, without any shadow of a doubt in my mind, neural tissue—and it’s still alive.”
Middleton looked down at the small container, which they had brought with their jointly-written report, and saw nothing but a lump of brownish-grey material which he would have likely classified as biologic in nature. But its composition, according to the report, read more like a list of rare elements which included gadolinium, iridium, indium, and all other manner of minerals which were generally reserved for high-end electronics.
“Is this an AI?” Middleton asked, deciding to go straight to the heart of the matter.
Fei Long shook his head, “I do not believe so, Captain. Doctor Middleton’s hypothesis is almost certainly correct, but this appears to be peripheral nervous tissue, not central nervous tissue.”
“So…” Middleton trailed off as he wrapped his mind around the revelation, “this has more in common with the nerves which connect the spine to the muscles, than it does to the nerves that make up the brain?”
“Probably,” Jo cut in before Fei Long could reply, “but the truth is we don’t have anything like this on record. To make categorical statements or to draw absolute conclusions is, I think, far beyond us at this point. But,” she allowed, “it doesn’t appear to have any spontaneous activity, and since we extracted it from the computer core it’s been…well, dormant.”
“You’ve stimulated it?” Middleton asked, his gaze switching back to Fei Long who nodded hesitantly.
“I have, Captain,” he replied more weakly than was usual for him. “It responds in as yet unpredictable ways, but I am certain that further testing—“
“This is alive,” Jo repeated forcefully. “We can’t just poke it, or shock it, or subject it to any other forms of physical manipulation without knowing more about it. To do so would be unethical, Captain,” she said, leveling a hard look at Middleton.
She had gotten much of her strength back, but she still required the assistance of the breathing mask from time to time, and after fixing him with an unyielding look she drew several breaths from the device and sat back in her chair.
“My concern is less for this…thing’s safety than it is for my crew’s,” Middleton said. “But for the time being, I’m inclined to concur with your judgment. That could change, however,” he said as he turned to face Fei Long again, “if this is the same thing you found on the ComStat hub.”
Fei Long leaned forward and Jo shot him a surprised look. “I believe it is, Captain Middleton,” he replied, casting a brief glance in Jo’s direction. “This particular specimen is more structured but the composition, electromagnetic field frequency, and location in which it was found are very nearly identical to the specimen I observed aboard the ComStat hub.”
Middleton leaned back in his chair and nodded slowly. “So…we already knew that the Raubachs have access to the ComStat network,” he said, knowing it was the most obvious conclusion to be drawn from the discovery. “But now we know that, somehow, this,” he held up the specimen container, “material is responsible for that access.”
“That is my conclusion as well, Captain,” Fei Long agreed. “Additionally, it might explain how they were able to set an ambush for us—an ambush which required significant preparation time on their part,” the young man added, and it was a thought which Middleton had shared a moment earlier. “The runtimes I detected at work in the last ComStat hub likely allowed the Raubachs to track our movements by logging the intensity, frequency, and triangulated location of my detection pings.”
“Agreed,” Middleton said, steepling his fingers after placing the specimen on his desk. Mr. Fei’s constant ‘pinging’ for ComStat hubs every time they point transferred must have tipped the Raubachs off to the Pride’s location somehow—a possibility that would require significant consideration if proven likely.
He thought for several minutes about his next question, and was actually torn as to whether or not he should ask it in Jo’s presence but he knew that she was the only person who could sufficiently answer it. He was also done with walking on eggshells around her; things were going to change between the two of them, and that change needed to happen quickly.
“Can you kill it?” Middleton asked, turning to Jo with a patient look on his face. He expected her to argue, and he even anticipated asking Fei Long to leave so they could get through their latest round of bickering, but then a funny thing happened.
“Yes,” Jo said simply,
producing a syringe from her pocket and placing it on the desktop. “It’s not poisonous to humans, at least not in this quantity,” she explained, “but that dose, injected into the central mass of tissue, will kill it within seconds.”
“Irreversibly?” Middleton pressed, still somewhat shocked that she had created, then volunteered, the poison.
Jo nodded, “To the best of my knowledge, yes. The complex bonds between elements will be broken down instantly and while the base material could potentially be used to create a new growth, I see nothing in this specimen to suggest it is capable of initiating such growth.”
“But the specimen on the ComStat hub was larger,” Middleton said, looking at Fei Long, “doesn’t that mean it grew?”
Fei Long and Jo shared a quick look before the young man shook his head, “We believe that was not growth, per se, but rather…a sort of cystic process resulting from long-term exposure to the inhospitable environment of the hub.”
“Would examining a second specimen, one which resembles the one on the ComStat hub, make possible a final determination of that?” Middleton asked.
“Probably,” Jo replied with a nod. “But the truth is we need more information about this. It’s clearly not something which the Empire created, Captain, so my professional recommendation is that we contact one of the foremost xenobiologists in the Spine. I made a list from memory of the ones who I think might be able to help,” she said, proffering a data slate which Middleton accepted.
It was a short list so it only took Middleton a few seconds before his eyes locked onto one name—a name which he repeated aloud, “Alice Schillinger.”
Jo and Fei Long shared looks of alarm before Jo asked, “Does that name mean something to you?”
Middleton shook his head, “Not to me…” Each name had a brief summary of the person’s specialty, and when Middleton’s eyes came to rest on what was essentially a footnote in Jo’s entry on Ms. Schillinger, it was like the pieces of a puzzle began falling together before his eyes. “Tell me what you know about her,” he said, his mind racing as he considered the possible implications of this discovery—a discovery which very well may have remained unmade if not for Jo’s and Fei Long’s expertise.
“She’s a former Imperial,” Jo replied, giving Middleton a look that told him she knew that he knew something. “Her primary study was of exotic life form theory, specifically life forms involving rare elements as a significant part of their base makeup. Most life that we can recognize is made of the same stuff as we are,” she explained, “hydrogen, oxygen, carbon, etc.. Her theory was that, given the vastness of the universe, some life must necessarily arise based on other chemical compounds. The theory itself is nothing new,” she said as Middleton found himself nodding silently at her report, “but the extremes to which she took it most certainly were—as was the evidence she had gathered to support her claims. I attended a lecture of hers where she made the radical suggestion that such life had almost certainly already arisen in this galaxy, and that it likely moved on because it was, essentially, superior to us.”
Fei Long, who had been listening with unguarded fascination, leaned forward onto the edge of his seat and asked excitedly, “Did she mean the Elders or the Ancients?”
Jo shook her head, “She never got into the details, and frankly even I thought she was losing her mind. The woman is a hundred and thirty six years old, after all.”
Middleton’s eyebrows shot up. “I’m sorry…did you say ‘a hundred and thirty six’?” Lynch had hinted at a personal relationship with her mother, which meant that Lynch himself was most likely well over a century old!
She shrugged, “You wouldn’t guess it by looking at her. The vanity of the rich apparently knows no bounds,” Jo said with an uncharacteristic edge to her voice. “But it looks like she might have been onto something.”
“What makes you so certain the Empire isn’t responsible for this?” Middleton pressed. “It could be a recent discovery, or one the Raubachs made privately and have kept to themselves.”
Fei Long shook his head with absolute certainty. “We have only partially examined this tissue, Captain,” he said with unusual reservation, “but even if I am overstating the case by two orders of magnitude…a computer composed of this material could, theoretically, outperform our best technology by a hundredfold while utilizing identical input power and taking up even less physical space.”
“And if I’m right,” Jo added hesitantly, “then this is only the peripheral nervous tissue.”
“Your point is well-taken, Doctor,” Middleton said with a nod of agreement. The presence of this…material not only explained how the Raubachs had managed to do so much damage, so quickly, to Sectors 23 & 24.
Middleton was all too aware of the strategic value of the ComStat network, just as any half-decent commander understood the importance of prompt communication between deployed assets and their command center.
But this strange, neural tissue could also explain how the Dämmerung managed to land so many hits on the Pride when the two ships were well past the extreme firing range of the longest guns in the fight. Striking a target with a laser at extreme range was less a matter of the weapon’s beam losing power with distance—although that was actually a factor, given the precise focal point required for the impact to have maximum effect—and more a matter of accurate targeting algorithms which must be calculated and implemented in real time, over distances that were beyond the human mind’s ability to properly conceptualize.
With targeting computers operating on a scale like Mr. Fei was suggesting possible, it was entirely reasonable to assume that a turbo-laser could operate at half again—or even double—its maximum rated range with relatively minor adjustments to the weapon itself.
That kind of advantage was, to put it mildly, enough to shift the balance of power in the entire Spine toward those who possessed the technology. Battles would be less influenced by total throw weight of the involved ships and more by each engaged ship’s ability to avoid, or soak up, the damage being thrown at it.
With that kind of a technological advantage, Middleton suspected that a Light Destroyer could tear apart most SDF’s all by itself if it was fitted with the same turbo-lasers as the Dämmerung had been equipped with. Sure, the battleships would be able to absorb the damage well enough that a Light Destroyer probably would be unable to destroy them, but what about the cruisers, corvettes, frigates, and cutters? They would be torn apart long before they could enter firing range…
Middleton snapped himself from his reverie and leaned forward in his chair. “Thank you for your contribution to this report, Doctor,” he said, looking first to Jo and then to Fei Long, “and good work, Mr. Fei. This information needs to be compartmentalized, is that understood?”
Jo nodded, “We cleared the lab when we ran the tests; the only other person who knows about it is Yide.”
“Yide?” Middleton repeated with a furrowed brow.
“Mr. Toto’s eldest son,” Fei Long explained. “He asked me to help him select a name, and I was happy to provide a somewhat fitting one from Romance of The Three—“
Middleton held up a hand, silencing the young man mid-sentence. “I’ll speak with him after we’re finished here. Was there anything else?” he asked, knowing he would need to reflect on the information he had just received.
“Yes,” Fei Long replied quickly, and Captain Middleton gestured for him to go on, “I believe I have perfected my attack drone design, Captain. It should be possible to deploy the units in lieu of the Lancer teams which had boarded the ComStat hubs thus far.”
Middleton arched an eyebrow, “In your initial report you suggested that the interference would be too much for even the droid transceivers to overcome. Has something changed?”
Fei Long nodded knowingly, “Yide has assisted me in overcoming that particular issue, Captain. The Sundered have significant expertise in the field of long-range communication systems integration,” he explained, alluding to the g
unships which were controlled by cybernetic implants which interfaced directly with the director’s brain. Such implants were illegal, but they appeared to be the primary method by which the Sundered could fight back against those who would oppress them.
“Good,” Middleton congratulated. “Is there a ComStat hub in the area?”
Fei Long nodded, “I believe so, Captain. Mr. Hephaestion and I have been working on a revised method of detection and I believe we have located a hub between two and four jumps from our present location.”
“Work with Mr. Strider to come up with an itinerary and have the XO bring it to me once you’ve done so,” Middleton ordered. “Dismissed, Mr. Fei.”
“Yes, Captain,” Fei Long acknowledged, standing from his chair and giving his customary bow before leaving the ready room.
Jo made as if to follow, but when she was halfway to the door Middleton said, “We’re not done yet, Doctor.” He knew it was time for them to clear the air, and he also knew that the first step needed to be made by him.
She stopped and turned, giving him a neutral look before moving back to her seat and lowering herself into it.
Middleton looked pointedly at the syringe she had provided and said, “I understand what that meant to you, Doctor. Don’t think I take it lightly.”
She nodded curtly but said nothing, and Middleton had to fight to keep his hands from clenching into fists.
“You once said something to me,” he said as he leaned back in his chair and quoted “you said ’almost no wound is so deep, or so traumatic, that it can’t be treated. But sometimes you can’t get the help you need before it’s too late.’ Do you remember that?”
Jo cocked her head slightly and nodded, “I do…I’m surprised you remembered it, though. You were half asleep when I said it, and it’s been over twenty years.”
“Well, I did remember it,” he said as he drew a deep breath. “I remember a lot of things…” he said before his mind began to wander down paths he knew would lead to nothing good. He straightened himself in his chair and gestured back and forth between them, “Whatever this has been between us is no good for anyone, Jo. Part of that is my fault, and part of it is yours—“
Up The Middle (Spineward Sectors: Middleton's Pride Book 2) Page 48
