* * *
Patrick woke up from a deep sleep with the remnants of a dream still in his mind. In the dream demons that looked much like the Maurids were tearing at his world, their giant claws ripping through islands and continents. Pieces of the world fell away into the grip of the gas giant and were swallowed, forever gone. Screaming people followed the parts of the moon, and Master O’Brien was on of them, followed by Sean.
His mind still reeling from the dream, he didn’t at first notice the warm furry thing pressed against him in the bed. The deep purr issuing from the beast brought him to full awareness, checking out the threat before he went into action.
“Oh,” he said, looking into the green eyes of the beautiful animal. “It’s you.”
He wanted to be angry at the cat, representing as it did the people who had, in his mind, caused him so much disruption. But the animal continued the purr which seemed to relax him completely, and a smile tugged at his face as he looked at the animal. Almost without thought his hand started to stroke the night black fur, and the purring went up in volume a notch.
“I bet she’s watching me through your eyes, isn’t she?” said Patrick, looking into the eyes that never left his face.
The cat surprised him by shaking his head, and Patrick wondered just how smart the beast was. Smart enough to understand human speech? Smart enough to lie? Well, so what if she’s watching me, he thought, continuing to stroke the dangerous but calming animal. What’s she going to learn from watching me pet her animal?
Patrick sat up on the bed and the cat got to his feet, butting his head against the man’s arm. Patrick smiled and started to stroke the insistent animal again. He thought of how he would like to have one of the beasts for himself, though maybe an unaltered one that wasn’t quite as hazardous as this one.
“Ship,” said Patrick, wondering if it would answer him here, off the bridge and in his quarters.
“Yes, controller,” answered the voice of the ship. “How can I serve?”
“I would like to know what this ship can do,” said Patrick, looking up at the ceiling, not really sure where to look while talking with this entity. “And I would like to know how I can control the ship.”
“It would be a pleasure controller,” said the ship. “I must say that most controllers assume they already know everything. When in fact there is much that is outside their knowledge.”
“I know I don’t know crap, ship,” replied Patrick with a smile, stroking the cat.
“And I must say how refreshing it is to have intelligent beings aboard again,” said the ship in its cheerful tone.
“I hope to please ship,” said Patrick, closing his eyes and thinking for a moment, then feeling the trickle of knowledge start to flow into his mind. “I hope to please.”
There is a problem here, said the ship into his mind along with the information it was feeding him. One of the implants in your brain violates my protocols for intelligent beings.
Patrick wasn’t really sure what the machine meant, and he projected his confusion into it. When it showed him what it meant he was horrified. Can you correct it? he asked.
Yes, answered the computer after a moment’s hesitation. I will have to infiltrate your system with more advanced nanites. But the actual readjustment will be relatively simple.
Then do it, ordered Patrick, a feeling of anger making him tense. And let’s keep it our secret, for now.
Of course, controller, said the machine. I work for you, after all, and not the passengers.
* * *
“Let’s get this done, so we can save my world,” said Patrick, walking onto the bridge.
“You need to give the ship instructions,” said Alyssa, catching Shadow as he leapt into her lap. “Just ask us what you need to tell it.”
“No need for that,” said Patrick with a smile. “I asked the ship to teach me what to do. It is all in my head.”
Alyssa and Derrick looked at each other for a moment, their eyes narrowing, and Patrick wondered at the communication passing between them. Well, he was in control now, whether they liked it or not. Alyssa nodded to Derrick and looked back at the Monk.
“Our Manta is right outside this ship,” said the woman, her face tense. “Could you order the ship to take it on board through the largest hold? We’ve already determined that there is room to spare. And this ship can extrude portions of itself to secure the vessel.”
Can you do that? he thought to the ship.
Yes, answered the machine mind of the vessel. I can also restrict access to their ship, should you so desire it.
That won’t be necessary, thought Derrick, looking over at the two Republic agents. At least not now. But I’ll let you know if it does become necessary. So go ahead and bring the other ship aboard, then we’ll figure out our next move.
“Are you going to help us or not?” asked Alyssa, staring at him.
Or you will try to tell me what to do in a way I cannot refuse, he thought, looking back at the woman. You’ll get a surprise. But not one that I want you to have just yet.
“I’ve already told the ship to take the Manta aboard and provide an access tube,” he told the agent, nodding his head. “It is loading the other ship as we speak.”
Alyssa nodded and looked back at her partner, a worried expression on her face.
That’s right, thought Patrick, feeling smug. I can tell the ship to do things that you don’t know. Now you can’t guess at what’s going to happen next. At the end of that thought Patrick caught himself with that smug feeling and chastised himself. He was still dealing with too many unknowns to be feeling like he was in control. I have to keep on my toes, and let caution guide me.
“So, what’s the plan after we get your ship aboard?” he asked, looking at the view around the walls of the room, which showed the deep water world they were now inhabiting. With a thought he changed that view, and moon and the ships in orbit came to the fore.
“How are you showing that view?” asked Derrick, leaning forward in his seat.
How are we getting that view in here, underwater as we are? asked Patrick of the computer.
I have tapped into the microsats that your friends have in orbit, feeding through the Manta, said the computer in his mind.
Patrick explained what the computer had told him, and Alyssa and Derrick again looked at each other with worried expressions on their faces.
“How in the hell did it detect our microsats?” asked Derrick, his dark face turning a shade paler.
“Even more important,” said Alyssa, her own face pale, “how in the hell did it break through our ship’s encryption programs to gather that view.”
“The ship said it was easy to sense the electronic emissions of the microsats,” said Patrick, scanning an explanation of that term and hissing out his breath in amazement. So damned small to have that kind of capability. “It also said that the encryption of yours was something a child could break into.”
“Can it break the encryption of the surrounding ships?” asked Alyssa in a hopeful voice.
“If it was able to get into the systems in the first place,” said Patrick as the information was transmitted into his brain. “But there is a problem getting into it in the first place. Maybe if given some time to play with them.”
“Can the ship outrun the ships in orbit around this planet?” asked Derrick.
“The ship is laughing,” said Patrick, a smile on his own face. “It asks if a hawk can outrun a snail. I’m not sure what either of those are.” A smile came over Patrick’s face as the images were transmitted to him, and he laughed at the animation that played through his mind. “Yeah, I can say that we could outrun them. If we can get past their weapons. That was something the ship was asking.”
“I think we can,” said Alyssa, looking at the screen and pointing to each enemy ship as they appeared. “We have two choices. We can either sit here until they give up, or something from our military comes along to take this system away from them.”
“Which is between slim and none for both of those outcomes,” said Derrick.
“Or we can run and take our chances,” finished the woman. “And I doubt they can disable us before we are past.”
“And if we are disabled then we are sunk, completely and totally,” said Derrick with a frown. “But I think we need to go for it.”
“I agree,” said Alyssa, looking over at Patrick. “What says the controller?”
“I assume the technology we need to save my world is not here, on Vasus?” asked Patrick, already sure of what the answer would be.
“No,” said Alyssa, shaking her head. “It is out there, toward the black hole.”
Can we approach the black hole? he asked the ship. And the stations around it?
We can, said the ship. As long as the controller has the codes to transmit to the defenses.
“I don’t have any codes,” said Patrick, a feeling of panic coming over him. How could he get those codes when he had no idea where they were?
“What was that?” asked Derrick.
“The computer said we could approach if the controller had the codes,” said Patrick, wondering how he would save his world now. “I don’t have any damned codes. Do you have the damned codes?”
“Nope,” said Derrick with a grimace, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t have any secret ancient codes hidden in my clothes, or anywhere else.”
“Then what will we do?” asked Patrick, visions of his world falling in pieces into the gas giant crowding his brain.
“We have a good ten years before we have to worry about this moon coming apart,” said Alyssa, standing up, walking over to Patrick, and putting her hand on his shoulder. “At least five before the quakes get bad enough to cause major damage. At least that long before volcanoes start erupting in earnest. That gives us five years to find the solution.” She put both her hands on his upper arms and gave him a gentle shake. “Five years. We’re sure to find something in that time.”
And how interested will your government be after they get this ship, and start to take it apart to see what they can build, thought the Monk. Probably not very interested at all, not when they’ve gotten their hands on what they want.
“Very well,” he told the pair. He turned and walked toward the entrance to the bridge. “I will be in the cabin I have acquired for the next hour. Then we will leave.”
“What are you going to do?” asked Derrick. “I think we can wait till after we get out of here to sleep or eat.”
“I am going to meditate,” said Patrick, bowing toward the two.
“Meditate,” howled Derrick, standing up from his seat and almost falling over. “Why the hell have you got to meditate at a time like this?”
“We may be going into battle,” said the Monk, keeping a calm expression on his face. “It is best that my mind be centered and calmed. So I will meditate, and then we will be on our way. I could recommend it to you as well. If you wish me to teach it to you later, I will.”
“I don’t need to fucking meditate,” said Derrick, hobbling forward.
“Calm down, Derrick,” said Alyssa, putting up a hand to hold him back. “An hour either way won’t matter. And it might give us more of the element of surprise.” She faced Patrick and gave him a bow back. “Do your meditation, Patrick. And then we will leave.”
They don’t know the whole truth, thought Patrick as he walked from the bridge and headed down the hall. Meditation would help him to center his body, to gain control of the ungainly mass that it had become, thanks to them. And with greater control would come increased balance and calm. In case he had to fight these two in the coming hours.
* * *
“Our boy seems to have grown a backbone,” said Derrick after the door closed behind Patrick.
“Don’t underestimate him, Derrick,” said Alyssa, looking at the door Patrick had just walked through. “He’s a fully trained war monk of these people. As highly skilled as a person can get in his culture in the arts of combat, and trained to think on his feet. And they also trained him to use that very smart and flexible brain of his. In our society, he would probably grow to be a leader in whatever field he chose.”
“But here he’s just a primitive,” said Derrick with a sneer.
“A primitive who has been soaking up knowledge at a prodigious rate,” said Alyssa, her brow furrowing in thought. “In a little more than a month or two he will be our equal. And remember something else Derrick.”
“Yeah,” said the former marine, looking over at his partner. “What’s that?”
“He controls this ship,” said the woman, who then frowned. “He controls what we want. He is the gatekeeper.”
“But we can control him like a puppet if we want,” said Derrick with a smile. “We can make him dance to our tune whenever we see the need. So what’s the worry?”
I wonder, thought Alyssa, still feeling uncomfortable about the whole process of implanting controls in his brain. It was totally against the principals of her polity, which ostensibly was dedicated to free will and individual determinism, unlike their opponent. So how does this make us any different than the Theocracy? And if we are the same as they are, do we really deserve to triumph? And how will Patrick feel after he realizes we have made him do our will, and not allowed him to act on his own? Making one a puppet was not the path to building trust and forging alliances.
Alyssa did not like this line of thought, and she was sure Derrick would not agree with her. He was a very mission oriented kind of person. That had been drilled into him by the Marines. But she had been raised by liberal parents who had risen high in the local government of her region. She had been taught to think for herself, and to champion the principles of her society. The very principles she was now crapping on with her attempted control of another human being.
She looked down at Shadow and ran a hand through the fur of the cat, which rewarded her with a purr. At least I understand you, she thought, looking down at the cat with a smile. And at least I can depend on you. She continued to stroke the cat while they sat on the bridge and waited for the central figure of the drama to return.
Chapter Fourteen
Patrick sat cross legged on the bed and closed his eyes. He pictured the pattern in his mind, while silently saying the mantra that connected to the pattern and controlling his breathing. His mind started to slip into the trance state like the well trained instrument it was.
His world may have been primitive as compared to the worlds that were now fighting in the space overhead. But they were advanced in the ways of the human mind. The trance state that Patrick slipped into allowed him to map out his neural connections in his own mind, to bring them under control to an extent not possible for most humans. It could only be learned at an early age, while the nervous system was still plastic. And then trained to perfection over the years of development leading to adulthood. Patrick knew that he was good at it, as evidenced by his attainment of the Fae state at an early age. Even the masters commented on his early skill, and it was thought that he would become the youngest master in the history of the Monastery.
Which will have no further history now, he thought bitterly. Then he banished that thought from his mind. It had no place there now, and could only interfere in what he hoped to accomplish. He allowed his mind to flow into the pattern, not really needing concentration, but more of an openness to allow his thoughts to enter.
Patrick sat there for almost forty-five minutes by his internal clock, his mind sending out impulses that mapped the response of nerves. Most did not agree with the map he already had in his mind. Distances had been increased slightly, and neurons had multiplied. So he made corrections to the map, not perfect, but better than what they had been. He knew it would take many more sessions to achieve perfection. He hoped perfection wouldn’t be needed for survival just yet, and that the future would allow more sessions.
At the end of the trance state he opened his eyes and stared ahead, cleansing his mind.
He stood up, feeling his muscles move beneath his skin, a satisfied smile playing on his face. He then moved to the center of the room and willed the bed to retract back to the floor. That done, he went through the moves of some simple katas, warming up, feeling the play of his muscles, testing the balance of his body.
Patrick sped up the moves, going from simple to complex as his mind entered the Fae state. In this state his punches, kicks and blocks were moving at a rapid pace, but his mind allowed him to slow down and analyze each move. After about ten minutes of this he reached for his sword and withdrew it from its sheath. He went through some moves with the sword, slashing and thrusting. Five minutes of that and he slid the sword back into its sheath, then slung the sheath over his back.
Not perfect, he thought, remembering a few moments when his balance was off and the target was missed by the barest of margins. But good enough for now. And it will get better. Because he knew he would push himself in the days ahead until he was back to his old form, but in this newer, stronger body. And then let the Colonel Chungs of the Universe look out for him.
* * *
“Are you ready to go?” asked Derrick as soon as Patrick entered the bridge.
“I’m ready,” said the Monk, nodding his head. “But you look like hell,”
“Like I told my boss, I’ll go into a tank after we get clear of this area,” said Derrick with a glare. “Until then I’m here, and I ain’t going to leave.”
“Very well,” said Patrick, getting in his seat and looking ahead, where the all around view was showing the area directly overhead. There were several blinking red dots up there, denoting enemy ships in wait.
“Ship,” said Patrick, looking at a small holo screen that had opened in the air in front of him that displayed some graphical information. “Is there a weak spot in their coverage of the planet?”
Theocracy: Book 1. Page 15
