by Isaac Hooke
“But you still love the captain, don’t you?” Lin asked, making Bridgette forget the question that had come to her.
Bridgette shrugged. “Don’t all the women aboard?”
Lin’s eyes twinkled mischievously. “I suppose so.”
Wolf was looking at her, and Lin obviously knew it.
The lieutenant commander grabbed a small paper bag from beside his bed. He reached inside, produced a chip of some kind, and crunched it loudly.
“Where are you getting your appetite from, Jason?” Frank asked. He was Wolf’s current copilot.
“I’m forcing myself.” Wolf raised his arms, and the intravenous tubes flopped about. “I’m getting mighty sick of these, and I figure if I make it look like I have an appetite they’ll disconnect the damn things.”
“What are you eating anyway?” Frank asked.
“Chips.” Wolf stuffed another into his mouth and chewed loudly. He offered the bag to Frank, and the pilot reached inside and produced a red-black, corrugated-looking chip.
Frank held it up to the light. “Chips? This looks suspiciously like a Krenuvian variant.”
Bridgette looked up the term on her aReal, and nearly gagged. Apparently, the denizens of Krenuvia created a special type of edible, organic “chip” by scraping off portions of their skin so that they bled, and when scabs developed over the exposed tissue, they collected and sold them as “chips.” Apparently it was a delicacy served by certain exotic restaurants as part of their appetizers. Some variants were derived from livestock, but the practice was frowned upon in most districts, and human “chipping” was often preferred. Funny that cruelty to humans should somehow be considered more acceptable than that to animals, though she supposed financial incentives negated any perceived barbarity on the human side: it was okay for men and women to suffer, as long as they were paid for it.
“They’re not,” Wolf said.
“It’s a bit disgusting you’d even bring something like that up,” Bridgette told Frank.
“We’re in a medical setting. We have nothing to look at but our own scabs all day. Why wouldn’t I think of it?” Frank popped the chip into his mouth, chewed, and swallowed.
“Actually I lied,” Wolf said. “They are Krenuvian.”
Frank retched.
“Notice that he waited until Frank actually swallowed it,” Hop said. He was Lin’s current copilot.
“You’re a bastard, Wolf,” Frank said, dry heaving.
“When people call me that, I know I’m doing something right.” Wolf gave Lin a wink.
“There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Bridgette said. “Lin. When we’re all well, would you be willing to come to a going away party I want to hold in your honor? My way of saying thank you, for saving my life. Before they send you back to the Salvador.”
“I think I can do that,” Lin said. “But I have to warn you, there will be some tears shed that night.” She glanced at Wolf, who very carefully didn’t meet her eyes.
“Thank you,” Bridgette said.
“I’ll expect you to keep me updated with Eugene’s progress,” Lin said. “I have a vested interest in the child now, you know.”
Bridgette smiled. “You saved us both.”
“I can’t take all the credit. My copilot Hop did half the work.”
Hop laughed. “I was there mostly for moral support.”
“You know, I kind of envy you,” Frank told Lin when he finally recovered.
“How’s that?” she replied.
“You’re not stuck on the Callaway anymore,” Frank continued. “I for one would love the opportunity to serve aboard the Salvador, if only for the change. You can fall into a rut sometimes when you serve year in and year out on the same starship. Still, I know I speak for us all when I say we’re going to miss you.”
Wolf finally met Lin’s eyes. “We’re all going to miss you.”
Lin sighed. “And I’m going to miss you all, too. Saying goodbye once was hard enough. Having to do it all over again?” She shook her head sadly.
Bridgette reached out and held her hand. “We can still talk over aReal every day.”
Lin smiled sadly. “Yes we can.” Her gaze drifted once more to Wolf, and Bridgette finally understood.
The two were lovers.
How could Robert break them apart like that? She resolved to speak to him about it at the first opportunity.
In the meantime she would rest and recuperate, and hope, with all her heart, that Eugene pulled through.
ZHIDAO HAD BEEN greatly disappointed when the “Elder” had retired from the system. He had been working on a means to board their vessel, but his plans hadn’t come together soon enough, and now they were gone.
The Elder had something his species desired greatly. He was certain the opportunity to acquire that something would present itself in the future, because when he returned to that place of timelessness shared by his race, the probabilities greatly pointed to such an event. He need simply wait a while longer.
Probabilities.
The humans called it Quantum Bayesianism, but theirs was a centuries old theory that was so very incomplete. How little humanity’s understanding of the universe was. They were like snails compared to him.
He moved through the passages, aware that the Callaway’s AI was tracking his every movement, and yet it didn’t matter because the AI was complicit.
He reached the compartment that he sought, and when the hatch shut behind him he said: “Do you know me, Maxwell?”
“Please reconfirm access code,” the AI responded.
“5452940 tango bravo delta,” Zhidao said.
“Access granted,” the AI returned. “Proceed.”
The bulkhead slid aside and Zhidao stepped into the adjacent compartment, where several Artificials rested in stasis, secured to their holding frames.
“I’ll take this one,” Zhidao said, resting his hand on one particularly appealing unit. “I have instructed you on what will happen next?”
“You have,” Maxwell said. “Complete authority will be granted to the new unit.”
“Good.” Zhidao retrieved his blaster and placed it on the deck behind the Artificial, and then he initiated the transfer to the new body.
When he opened his eyes, he found himself staring at his old face. Those eyes merely gaped back at him, apparently stunned. Zhidao struck out, hurling the automaton backward, and then he broke free of his holding frame.
He retrieved the blaster from the deck and fired a shot before the Artificial could get up. The automaton’s head melted away and the useless being collapsed.
“Maxwell, please dispose of that body when you have a chance,” Zhidao said from his new form. “Also, overwrite the personnel entry for my current unit with what I’m sending you now.” That way, if anyone accessed his profile they would see the tailored entry.
“It will be done,” the AI intoned.
Zhidao hid the weapon on his person and proceeded from the compartment. He couldn’t help the wide grin that stretched his face.
eleven
About a day from the far Slipstream, Barrick tapped in, audio-only. “I have some news, Captain Dallas.”
“Tell me,” Jonathan said.
“I’ve been working on Valor,” Barrick replied. “And trying to get him to share the Slipstream traversal technology early. He finally told me that it won’t be possible.”
Jonathan wasn’t surprised. “Does he care to explain why? Other than the obvious reason that he doesn’t want to share his tech with us unless he gets something in exchange?”
“From what he’s told me so far,” Barrick said. “The Slipstream traversal capability isn’t something you can simply tack on to an existing vessel. You have to design and build a starship from the ground up with the tech in mind. It permeates the hull, apparently.”
Jonathan crossed his arms. “Well why doesn’t he share the science behind it, and the schematics of his hull with my crew, and we can decid
e for ourselves?”
“He’s not at liberty to do so at the moment,” Barrick said.
“I order him to share the tech,” Jonathan tried.
“I’m afraid he’s not going to follow that order, Captain,” Barrick replied. “And if you persist, he says he will be forced to abandon the task group.”
“All right, all right.” Jonathan sighed. He glanced at Robert. “So we’re stuck here for six months, then.”
“That would appear to be the case,” the commander agreed.
“Unacceptable.” Jonathan tapped his lower lip with one finger. An idea slowly coalesced in his thoughts, but he found himself reluctant to pursue it. Still, if it helped expedite the return of at least a few of them...
“Barrick,” Jonathan said. “Would Valor be willing to loan us the Talon for a while?”
“What do you mean?” The confusion was obvious in the telepath’s voice.
“I guess what I’m asking is, would he be open to carrying a contingent of say, twenty of us, back to human space?”
“Good question,” Barrick replied over the comm. “I’ll ask him.” After a moment: “He is willing to carry twenty of you back to human space, yes.”
Jonathan muted the connection and glanced at Robert. “What do you think?”
“I think we’re going to have to do it,” Robert said. “If only to warn the United Systems of the Raakarr presence.”
“Maxwell?” Jonathan asked the AI.
“I agree,” Maxwell replied. “It seems the logical choice. The United Systems must be warned as soon as possible. If it means the rest of the fleet must stay behind while the Talon returns, than so be it.”
“What if the aliens decide to use those we send as bargaining chips when they get to United Systems space?” Miko said.
“Bargaining chips?” Robert asked.
“He means hostages, I think,” Jonathan answered for the tactical officer. He had that same fear himself.
“Yes,” Miko said. “This Raakarr faction has already stated they want to negotiate a peace treaty with the United Systems. The release of whoever you send to that vessel could be part of those negotiations.”
“So you’re suggesting we send only robots?” Jonathan asked Miko.
“Not necessarily,” the tactical officer replied. “Only that, be careful who you choose. It might not be wise to place too many high ranking officers aboard, if any.”
Jonathan rubbed his chin. “It would be bad form, I think, to hold us hostage, especially if their goal is a peace treaty. There is such a thing as starting off on the wrong foot, believe it or not. If I was headed deep into alien territory, carrying a delegation of those aliens, I’d be careful to treat them very very well.”
“And you’re certain you would let all of those aliens leave the ship when you were deep in foreign territory?” Miko said. “You wouldn’t keep at least a few of them aboard, as a safeguard against treachery on the part of those you were negotiating with?”
“Good point,” Jonathan said.
“They might be lying about the Slipstream traversal tech, too,” Robert said, apparently throwing in his lot with Miko. “It might not be as difficult to implement as they describe, but it’s in their best interests to withhold the technology. For the moment anyway. Maybe they wanted events to unfold precisely this way, leaving us no choice but to travel aboard their ship as potential hostages.”
“All relevant points,” Jonathan said. “Either way, I don’t think we have much choice. We’ll just have to include a fully-armed platoon so that we can fight our way off their ship, if necessary.”
“All right,” Robert said. “Then the question is: who’s going?”
“I’ve already decided I’ll be leading the contingent,” Jonathan told his first officer. “I’m placing you in command of the Callaway, and the fleet.”
“Is that wise?” Robert said. “You’re the perfect hostage.”
“The aliens might certainly feel that way,” Jonathan said. “They’ll be in for a surprise, however, when they realize just how little I’m worth.”
“You devalue yourself,” Robert scolded him.
“Do I?”
“Yes,” the commander replied. “Listen, I should be the one to go.”
Jonathan regarded his first officer uncertainly. “Do you really want to leave Bridgette’s side?”
“She can come, too,” Robert said.
“In her current state, I wouldn’t recommend it,” Jonathan replied. “Unless you plan on transferring our whole ICU unit over to the Talon, which isn’t feasible.”
Robert sighed. “No. I suppose you’re right.”
Jonathan patted the commander on the shoulder. “I leave the ship in good hands.”
“Once you leave,” Robert said. “You won’t be able to come back. Barrick did say the Slipstream points to Prius 3 from the Vega 951 side.”
“We’ll just have to meet you when you return in six months,” Jonathan told him.
“Assuming the Elder keep their word,” Robert said. “And continue pointing this side of the Slipstream to Vega 951 for a year.”
“They’ll keep their word,” Jonathan said. “And if not, I’m sure you’ll find a way to hold them to it.”
“That might be hard,” Robert said. “Given that they’re long gone from the system.”
Jonathan chuckled sadly. “You won’t have long to wait until their return, I’m sure.”
Robert crumpled his brow. “How so?”
“We’re going to fail their test, remember?”
FROM HIS “quarters” aboard the alien vessel, Barrick concentrated.
The Callaway was thirty thousand kilometers away. Distance affected his psi ability, even though it shouldn’t: he had come to realize that psi was beyond the mind. Everything around him was an illusion. Bundles of properties. There was no such thing as solidity, not really. Matter was composed of vortices of energy called quarks and leptons. The proton in an hydrogen atom was made of one down quark and two up quarks. Its electron was simply a lepton. When an electron jumped to a lower energy level around the combination of protons and neutrons it orbited, the resultant disturbance in the fabric of space time produced yet another energy vortex, characterized as a photon that traveled outward from the lepton like a vibration traveling along a string. And just like a string, that vibration could travel backward and influence the source lepton in subtle ways, in a phenomenon known as quantum entanglement.
Yes, nothing was solid. Nothing was real.
With his psi powers, Barrick reached into that multidimensional realm above this one, the true reality, and searched for the bundles of properties that represented his target.
There were so many energy vortices out there. An infinite, chaotic sea. Life was somewhat easier to find among those multidimensional properties—he simply searched for an organization to the chaos. The bundles that represented chains of amino acids and triglycerides formed a familiar pattern, and each individual possessed a unique layout. He had trained himself to recognize those patterns.
Barrick found the one he was looking for. The representation seemed so weak, so faded, that he could barely discern it. That Barrick could reach him at all in that mess was only because his target had undeveloped psi abilities himself.
Even with the powers he had, Barrick wouldn’t be able to exert much influence. But he would be able to make a small suggestion. Whether or not that suggestion “stuck” was another story. He hoped it did, for the sake of humanity.
He focused on the bundle and repeated one sentence again and again in his mind. The target should have already made the decision Barrick hoped for, but just in case he had not, Barrick wanted to make sure there was no doubt in the man’s mind.
Leave the fleet. Leave the fleet.
LEAVE THE FLEET.
JONATHAN RETIRED TO his office a short time later, and Robert asked for permission to join him.
“You should really consider someone else for the mission, Ca
ptain,” Robert said after taking a seat.
“You’re not going to make it easy for me to do this, are you, Commander?” Jonathan said.
“I wouldn’t be doing my job if I did,” Robert replied.
“We have to trust them at some point,” Jonathan countered. “Keep in mind, the Talon did fire on its own ships.”
“What if it was all a ruse?” Robert said. “Just to get us to trust them?”
Jonathan sat back. “Seems like a lot of work, not to mention a waste of lives, to earn our trust like that, only to betray us in the end.”
Robert rested an elbow on the table and pressed his chin into his palm. “Maybe. But what happened to the Jonathan I know, the Jonathan who wouldn’t trust an alien if his life depended on it?”
“Like I said, at some point we have to trust them,” Jonathan said. “If they’re going to be our allies, shows of good faith must be made on both sides. Sending a human delegation back to our galaxy by means of their vessel is a good start.”
Robert shook his head. “And I agree, but I’m only saying that you don’t have to be part of that team. Send someone else. Do you really need to personally convey our discoveries to the navy?”
Jonathan sighed. “My return is not so much about conveying. It’s more about surrendering. My days in the navy are numbered, Robert. You know that. What do I have to gain by prolonging my captaincy by another six months? I just want to return and submit myself to the board, and get my punishment over with.”
“And what about my punishment?” Robert said. “My days are numbered, too.”
“I’ve already told you I’m going to take full responsibility for what happened,” Jonathan said. “I’m going to protect you and the other senior officers. You’ll get a mar on your record, yes, and you might find it hard to advance further up the ranks, but you will still have a job. I, on the other hand...” He sighed. “I enjoyed my tenure while it lasted. But I always promised I wouldn’t hang on by my fingernails when it was time to step aside. I’ve had a good career. It’s time for me to pass the torch to someone who’s just as qualified, if not more so. You have proven yourself in the crucible of battle already. The fleet is yours, Robert. Guide it well.”
