The Yanthus Prime Job: A Pepper Melange Novella (Starship Grifters)

by Robert Kroese

  The insect just stared at her.

  “Okay, you’re starting to creep me out a little,” Pepper said. “I was just joking around. I don’t really buy this claptrap about you being sentient.”

  Still the insect stared.

  “Seriously,” Pepper said. “Cut it out. Go back to buzzing around the bar or I’ll flatten you.”

  The insect didn’t move.

  “See, that right there is proof that you aren’t sentient,” Pepper said. “If you understood I was threatening you, you’d fly away.”

  Still the insect didn’t move.

  “Yeah, I get it,” said Pepper. “You’re calling my bluff. Also, if I didn’t harbor some suspicion about you being able to understand me, I wouldn’t be talking to you like this. That’s one in your column, bug.”

  Still the insect didn’t move.

  “Gaaahhh!” Pepper cried, unnerved by the insect’s indifference. She waved her arms in the air until the insect took off. It made a circuit of the room and then disappeared through the crack under the door.

  Chapter 4

  Pepper moved silently through the museum toward the Emerald of Sobalt Prime. As she neared the gem, she heard a loud buzzing behind her. Just as she was about to reach out her hand to grab the Emerald, a swarm of flies flew over her head and descended on it. The flies enveloped the Emerald completely and then seemed to take a humanoid form. After a moment Pepper realized the flies had transformed into the Malarchian enforcer, Heinous Vlaak. Vlaak looked just like he did the last time he came to Yanthus Prime. He was an imposing figure in a tight-fitting crimson leather uniform, his face obscured by a helmet festooned with peacock feathers. A luxurious fur cape billowed from his shoulders. Pepper turned to run, but the plasteel doors slammed shut, trapping her in the room. Vlaak drew his lazegun and fired, hitting her squarely in the chest. Pepper woke with a start.

  “Damn bugs,” she muttered, sitting up in bed. She had a vague feeling that the insects had invaded other dreams of hers during the night too. Was this how the insects communicated? Or was she simply obsessing about them for no good reason? Heinous Vlaak’s appearance was strange as well; Vlaak hadn’t been to Yanthus Prime since he’d overseen the destruction of the Shaashavaslabt sculpture. Pepper was fairly certain Vlaak didn’t even know she existed, and even if he had somehow found out she was behind the theft of the sculpture, she couldn’t see how it concerned him.

  Pepper got up, showered, and made some coffee. Then she sat down with her simulation again. Three hours later, she was no closer to figuring out how to foil the museum’s security. What she needed was something like microbots that could be programmed to apply lenses to the apertures of the security cameras—but they would have to be bots that wouldn’t trigger the museum’s motion sensors. That meant they would have to be very small and made mostly of organic materials. There was an answer that was as obvious as it was ridiculous, and after another hour of failing to put it out of her mind, Pepper broke down and called the biology department of Yanthus Prime City University. If nothing else, she could at least confirm that the idea was completely impractical so she could move on to a more realistic solution.

  Pepper asked the secretary if she could speak to the scientist who had published the paper about intelligent swarms of Yanthusian swamp flies. She was put on hold, and after several minutes the secretary explained to her that the author of that paper—Doctor Sully Harmigen—was no longer at the university. Pepper was unable to get the secretary to explain the reason for Harmigen’s departure, and it was only with considerable difficulty that she managed to obtain an address for him. Dr. Harmigen was apparently living off the grid in a mostly unsettled area about thirty klicks south of the city.

  Her interest piqued, Pepper summoned a robocar and gave it the address she’d been given for Dr. Harmigen. The car dutifully navigated the city roads to the highway that connected Yanthus Prime City to the towns south of it, then veered off onto a poorly maintained dirt road. After several more kilometers, the car stopped in front of a primitive hovel on a small hill overlooking a vast tract of muck. Pepper got out and the car zipped away. She walked up a narrow sidewalk to the door. Hundreds of the little green flies buzzed about her head. She knocked on the door, and after a minute or so, the door opened. Standing inside was a pear-shaped creature about half Pepper’s height.

  “Dr. Harmigen?” asked Pepper.

  The pear-shaped creature glared at her with its tiny eyes. “Not what you were expecting?”

  “To be honest,” said Pepper, “no.”

  Dr. Harmigen was a member of the Gwildwanki species, with which Pepper was vaguely familiar. The Gwildwanki had originated on a backwater planet in the Perseus Arm. They were a largely non-sentient, bipedal ruminant species that was common throughout this part of the galaxy. It had been discovered purely by accident (by a very surprised farmer) that, due to a genetic anomaly, roughly one in a million Gwildwanki was not only sentient but possessed an intelligence that rivaled that of the geniuses of the most advanced races in the galaxy. Far from putting an end to the practice of raising Gwildwanki as livestock, this discovery vastly increased the incentive to raise them: sentient Gwildwanki could be sold to universities and corporations for a fortune. Many of the best financial analysts in the Crab Nebula were Gwildwanki who had been rescued from the cattle farms of Voltaris Seven. Pepper had never actually met a sentient Gwildwanki before, although she found Gwildwanki steaks delicious. She decided to keep this information to herself.

  “If you’re a journalist,” Harmigen said, glaring at Pepper, “I have nothing to say I haven’t already said a hundred times. You’ll have to get your entertainment elsewhere.”

  “I’m not a journalist,” Pepper said. “I’m a bartender. My name is Pepper Mélange.”

  “I don’t recall requesting a delivery, Pepper Mélange,” Harmigen said dryly. “Please go away.” He began to close the door.

  “Wait!” Pepper cried. “I’m here about the insects. The little green ones.”

  “Yanthusian swamp flies,” Harmigen grunted. “What about the them?”

  “I have a proposal for them,” Pepper said, without thinking.

  Harmigen stared at her for a moment. “You have a proposal. For the flies.”

  There was no point in being coy now, Pepper thought. “You believe they’re sentient, don’t you? And that you can communicate with them?”

  “The media sensationalized my research,” Harmigen said. “And cost me my job in the process.”

  “So the flies weren’t trying to tell us to stay off their land?” Pepper asked.

  “I think we can assume the flies would prefer that we not destroy their habitat,” said Harmigen. “There are those who claimed to be able to speak with the swarms, but my research was shut down before I could confirm the swarm’s sentience definitively.”

  “But if you could speak to them now—”

  “I can’t,” said Harmigen. “The university seized my equipment. In any case, the swarm population has been decimated. The potential for intelligence exists only in swarms of ten million or more. These days there are only a dozen swarms, of less than a million each. Half of them live on my property. As you can see, I’ve done what I could to give them a semblance of their former habitat, but it isn’t enough. I’m afraid that whatever you wanted to say to the flies, Pepper, it’s too late.”

  Pepper nodded her head. “All right,” she said. “It was a crazy idea anyway. Just something I needed to get out of my system. Thank you for your time, Doctor.” She tapped her comm, intending to call the robocar back.

  “Hold on,” said Dr. Harmigen.

  Pepper looked at him expectantly.

  “Out of curiosity, what was the proposal?”

  Pepper regarded Dr. Harmigen. She hadn’t decided how much she was willing to tell Dr. Harmigen. Really, she was just hoping to get enough information from him to put the idea of cooperating with the flies out of her mind. But she supposed there was no harm in g
iving him a rough idea of what she had been considering. “I have… a side business, in addition to tending bar,” Pepper said. “I was considering taking on a job. A potentially extremely lucrative job. But I’m not sure I can do it alone.”

  “And you thought the flies could help?”

  “I know, it’s crazy,” said Pepper. “But for some reason, I can’t get the idea out of my mind. It’s almost like the insects are talking to me.”

  Harmigen studied her dubiously. “That’s highly improbable,” he said.

  “I realize that,” Pepper replied.

  “But not impossible,” Harmigen went on. “I apologize for my initial rudeness; very few of my visitors are genuinely interested in my work. Come in, Pepper.” He opened the door to his hovel wider.

  Pepper hesitated a moment and then followed him inside, ducking to clear the low doorway. She found herself in a very small, very primitive, house. To her right was a doorway that led into a tiny office. To her left was a kitchen that was only slightly larger. The room she was in seemed to be a sort of general purpose entryway and living room. It had one piece of furniture: a small, rudimentary wooden table. In a far corner of the room sat another Gwildwanki, pear-shaped like Doctor Harmigen but slightly smaller, munching on a small pile of dried grass.

  “Don’t mind her,” Harmigen said, indicating the other Gwildwanki. “She’s my wife, Ethel. Non-sentient, of course, but beggars can’t be choosers. Sit anywhere you like.”

  Pepper smiled weakly at Ethel and sat on the stone floor cross-legged next to the table. Doctor Harmigen sat down across from her.

  “Are you saying it’s possible the insects really are trying to talk to me?” Pepper asked.

  “Probably not in the way you are thinking,” Harmigen said. “The individual insects are stupid. They merely react to biological stimuli. But each fly communicates in a basic way with all the other flies in its swarm. With a large enough swarm, it’s possible for a sort of consciousness to arise.”

  “Like neurons in a human brain,” Pepper said.

  “Precisely.”

  “But you said the swarms are too small for that to happen.”

  “That’s right,” said Harmigen. “But the swarms also communicate with each other to some extent. If you could get enough of the smaller swarms together, you could potentially create a metaswarm. A swarm of swarms, if you will.”

  “But if this metaswarm doesn’t already exist, how could it be communicating with me?”

  “I don’t necessarily believe it is communicating with you,” Harmigen said. “But understand that consciousness is a continuum. It’s possible that the metaswarm already exists on some level, but it is too weak to communicate overtly. Again, speaking purely hypothetically, it’s not impossible that the metaswarm is imparting ideas to you, perhaps without even intending to.”

  “Like through dreams?” Pepper asked. “Or individual flies signaling me in some way?”

  “There’s no telling how the metaswarm’s attempts at communication might manifest themselves,” Harmigen said. “What exactly do you think they’re trying to tell you?”

  “Well,” said Pepper, “for a while now it’s seemed like they’ve been trying to express their anger at the last of their habitat being taken away. It’s not just me, all the business owners in my neighborhood have seen it. The flies buzz around aimlessly, apparently just to irritate us.”

  Harmigen nodded. “Like when my wife is mad at me but she doesn’t know how to express it, so she pees behind the dresser.”

  Pepper nodded uncomfortably, glancing at Harmigen’s wife munching away in the corner. “Anyway, lately the communication has gotten much more specific. I mean, unless I’m imagining it. It started when I happened to see an article in the newspaper…” Pepper trailed off, not sure how specific she should be. Also, it occurred to her that she had only noticed the article about the Emerald of Sobalt Prime because she had folded the paper up to swat one of the flies. Was this whole heist the flies’ idea? She shuddered as she considered the notion. Had they orchestrated her trip to see Harmigen? Or was she losing her mind?

  “An article about what?” Harmigen asked.

  Pepper dodged the question. “If this metaswarm existed, would it be able to direct the behavior of individual flies? Like, if there was a specific task the metaswarm wanted completed?”

  “The individual flies act as extensions of the swarm. The flies are the arms and legs of the swarm organism. As well as the eyes, ears and other senses.”

  “What would you need to confirm the existence of the metaswarm?” Pepper asked. “Is there a way you could communicate with it directly?”

  “Theoretically possible, but I would need my equipment, which, as I said, is under lock and key at the university.”

  “What if I told you I could help with that?”

  Harmigen studied her for a moment. “This job you’re talking about,” he said. “It’s not entirely legal, is it?”

  “No, it is not,” Pepper replied.

  “A theft of some sort, I assume,” Harmigen said. “You want to use the flies to get around the security somehow. But why not use bots?”

  “There are sensors that will detect anything with inorganic parts. Even if I could find a bot constructed of entirely organic material, the EMP would short out the picocircuitry.”

  “Sounds like some pretty serious security,” Harmigen observed. “The sort used by museums. Particularly museums hosting exhibits of extremely rare and valuable gemstones.”

  “Hypothetically,” Pepper agreed.

  “Yes, hypothetically,” Harmigen said dryly. “I suppose you’re aware that the Yanthus Prime City Museum is owned by Yanthus Prime City University. The institution that ruined my life. So you can see how I would—again, speaking in purely hypothetical terms—be tempted to cooperate with such an endeavor.”

  “The thought had occurred to me,” Pepper said. “Why did the university shut you down?”

  “Because they knew I was onto something,” Harmigen said. “If I proved the swarms were sentient, they would get the attention of the Malarchy’s Native Species Identification and Protection Bureau. Development of the spaceport and surrounding businesses would have been delayed for years—possibly indefinitely. The university is too dependent on funding from the local real estate developers to allow that to happen. So they fired me and gave me a severance package contingent on me keeping my mouth shut and withdrawing my paper.”

  “And how are you feeling about that choice?” Pepper asked.

  Harmigen shrugged. “It was the only thing I could do at the time. And it gave me enough money to buy this place. By slowly converting my property to swampland, I’ve been able to create a refuge for a few million of the flies. But it won’t be enough. The flies are part of a very delicate ecosystem. One big drought like we had three years ago, and they’ll be wiped out. This is the only region on Yanthus Prime where the flies can thrive. The rest of the planet is too dry.”

  “What if we could buy some more land?” Pepper asked. “Several square kilometers, near the city. Convert it to swampland. Could we save them?”

  “Maybe,” said Harmigen. “Is that how you’re planning to spend your spoils?”

  “All I need from this job is to pay off a few debts and get off-planet. There should be plenty left over to see to the insects’ wellbeing.”

  “I’d have to renege on my confidentiality agreement with the university.”

  “Sure, but you could go public with proof of the metaswarm’s sentience. Go directly to the Malarchy’s Native Species Identification… whatever it was you mentioned earlier. Have them declare the metaswarm a sentient being. The university will be forced to back down.” Pepper didn’t like the idea of drawing the attention of the Malarchy, but hopefully she’d be long gone by the time any Malarchian bureaucrats showed up.

  “Hmmm,” said Harmigen. “It’s an outlandish idea, but I have to admit, it would seem that the stars have aligned in favor of ou
r cooperation. However, the third of our proposed triumvirate has not yet spoken—at least not in any way I can decipher.”

  “The metaswarm,” Pepper said.

  “Yes,” said Harmigen. “It’s possible that you’re misinterpreting the metaswarm’s motives. Or imagining their attempts at communication. Even with my equipment, I can’t guarantee I will be able to summon the metaswarm. Supposing I can, I’m not sure we’ll be able to communicate with it. And even then, it might say no.”

  “Only one way to find out for sure, I guess,” Pepper said.

  “Yes,” Harmigen agreed.

  “You need to understand,” Pepper said, “there’s a chance we could both go to prison for this for a very long time.”

  Harmigen motioned toward the walls of his hovel. “I’m not really seeing the downside.”

  Pepper nodded. “We don’t have a lot of time,” she said.

  “Then we’d better get started,” Harmigen said. “How soon can you get me my equipment?”

  Chapter 5

  Stealing Dr. Harmigen’s equipment back was surprisingly easy. The security at the university was much laxer than at the museum; all Pepper had to do was rent a van, disable a couple of security cameras, and pick the lock of the biology department. Twenty minutes after pulling up in the van, Pepper had all the equipment loaded. She waved to the campus security guard as she drove off.

  Once she was certain she wasn’t being tailed, she made her way back to Dr. Harmigen’s hovel. The good doctor was nearly beside himself with excitement at having his equipment back. Even his dimwitted wife seemed to understand something important was happening. She rubbed up against Pepper’s legs and made a sort of mooing sound. Pepper scratched Mrs. Harmigen uncertainly behind her ears.

  “How long will it take to summon the metaswarm?” she asked.

  “Whoa,” said Dr. Harmigen, surveying the boxes Pepper had set down around his hovel. “Slow down. It’s going to take a couple days just to unbox everything. Then to get it all set up and calibrated…”