The Golden Mean

by Michael Formichelli

  Merte took a deep breath.

  "The most important thing is to keep a cool head about this. We won't know why Daedalus has taken an interest in us, and we won't until its emissary arrives. What we need to do, is decide how to be ready. I am assuming we won't be able to hide our secret from this emissary for long, if at all. I think that means we have to try and come up with Daedalus' most probable reactions, and maybe an escape plan, too."

  "Escape plan? Where do you think we'd be able to go? Once our secret's out, I doubt any place in the Confederation will be safe." Ram's drink finally reached the edge of the table. It started a slow drip to the floor.

  "We might have to leave the Confederation." Merte scowled at Ram.

  "And go where? Revok space? No one returns from there." Ram half-shouted.

  "Obviously, the Orgnan Empire is out of the question as well," Das'Voq met her eyes, showing deep concern through his gaze. Merte knew his worry was not the same as Ram's. He was thinking about her and their daughter.

  "There are other options, the Broghite Commonwealth, the Nyangari Protectorate—"

  "Both of which are far from here. We don't even have a guarantee they'd accept us," Ram muttered.

  "Then we better start working on it. MARC?"

  "Yes, Merte?"

  "What trade ships are expected in around the arrival of the emissary?"

  "The Kogot-Kri," MARC responded.

  "I wonder what Daedalus is going to think of the Orgnan trading with us. We may not have Abyssians here now, but now we know they're coming. I intend not to be here," Ram said.

  "You are not leaving." Das'Voq said.

  "Wait, this isn't a bad thing. The Kogot-Kri could assist us if things go badly," Merte said.

  "Do you think they can help against the machine? I doubt even the Revok could do that, and they're centuries more advanced than we are. The Orgnan are behind us, what help could they offer?" Ram shook his head.

  "That is an unknown, Balarama. Daedalus' last known system specifications are over thirty years old. It is known that it was designed to be self-evolving to defeat the VoQuana. By my calculations, it is possible Daedalus is approaching the Revok's level of technological evolution."

  "That's not comforting, MARC. That means it could potentially have a ship in the system that could wipe us out in the blink of an eye."

  "Stop being so negative, Ram. We have five days to prepare, and I doubt Daedalus is coming here to kill us all. It wouldn't have sent a message first if it was." Merte hoped her concern wasn't showing on her face. Ram didn't need more ammunition against her.

  "I hope you're right, Merte. I pray by the Matre that you're right," Ram sighed.

  "She is," Das'Voq said.

  Merte stared down at her plate of cookies, wishing it was true.

  -----

  "Good morning, Merte. It is the two-hundred-ninety-ninth day of the year 2397 of the Common Era at eight-hundred-fifteen hours and zero seconds from—mark. The Julian Date is 2596844.843750. Two days, three hours, two minutes, and now zero seconds remain until the arrival of the emissary."

  Thank you MARC, Merte transmitted.

  She blinked and stepped out from her sleeping alcove. An identical alcove was built into the wall beside hers. In it, Das'Voq slept as still as a corpse. The alcoves were an addition to the bedroom that once belonged to the colony's administrator, Ram's father. When they were put in resources were still scarce, and Merte hadn't been able to get the same type of polyceramic as the rest of the walls in the room. As a consequence, the alcove wall was a darker gray by three shades. It didn't bother her, though. She felt like the difference in color was a representation of the impact she had on the colony. She'd left her mark.

  The room was four meters on a side—spacious by comparison to the other living quarters. She made it more so by removing the king-sized bed Ram's father once enjoyed; it was not needed. Only a dresser and a few shelves containing her personal memorabilia remained.

  Merte changed her clothes at the dresser, donning a yellow knee-length dress and a matching suit jacket over it. She would have liked to wear a sun dress today, but not only was it somewhat pointless in an underground complex, but a ship of unknown configuration had appeared on the long-range sensors. She simply did not believe in taking on the unknown in casual clothing.

  An announcement message appeared in her vision, reminding her to talk to Athame about what was going on. She meant to do so after the meeting two days ago, but Athame came home late and Merte was already busy at the time, simulating evacuation plans with MARC. Yesterday, one of them was always busy when the other was free. Merte was now determined to talk to her daughter this morning before either of them headed out.

  Athame was in their apartment's living room when Merte emerged from the bedroom. Her daughter's athletic frame was wrapped in a light pistachio-colored halter-top dress that ended a little too high above her knees, and displayed a little too much of Athame's mottled skin, for Merte's comfort. She had her father's epidermal chameleon-like abilities, so her skin tones were now in varying shades of green. Her temples were shaven on both sides, with the apex of her scalp throwing a burst of loose, black curls in a cascade of chaos to her ears. A pair of purple irises met Merte's gaze and a smile appeared on the lips below.

  "Good morning, mom."

  "Good morning, Athame. How was your night?" Merte approached, stopping about an arm's length away.

  "You're usually at work by now. Is everything okay?"

  "Yes, for now. The next few days are going to be exciting," Merte responded.

  Athame's face lit up.

  "Not in a good way. Have we ever talked about Daedalus before?"

  "Not really. I know he's the AI who saved the Confederation, but aside from that we didn't really cover him much in school."

  Merte made a mental note to have the virtual school programs altered to include more detail.

  "He's an it, Athame."

  "Huh? Why?"

  "Because Daedalus is a machine—"

  "But AI's are sentient. You taught me that."

  "Well, yes, but—"

  "Am I an it? Is MARC?" Athame crossed her arms over her chest.

  "No, Athame. You are a person." Merte sighed. "Okay, Daedalus is a he, and this he is the creator of the Abyssian Order. He's sending some kind of physical emissary here in two days."

  "Why?" Her daughter looked excited.

  "I don't know, Athame. No one has understood Daedalus in decades. It makes it very dangerous, but because of the precautions that had to be taken during the war, no one even knows where it—"

  "He, mom."

  "—he is located to turn him off. In our desperation to survive, we unleashed an all-powerful AI on the galaxy, and we're stuck with him now."

  "Is he dangerous to us?"

  "Potentially, that's why I've needed to talk to you. I want you to stay out of sight until the emissary is gone."

  "What? What does that mean?" Athame crossed her arms before her chest.

  Merte braced herself. Her daughter could be quite stubborn if the right wording wasn't used.

  "I'm worried about the reason Daedalus has taken such an interest in our colony. If things get bad, I just don't want you involved." Merte held her breath.

  "Mom, I can handle myself."

  "Not against this." Merte shook her head.

  "I'm the best hacker in this colony, and I have MARC to help me."

  "I hate to intrude, but I doubt I will be of much use against Daedalus or his agents. I was originally designed to monitor maintenance and life support machinery in the colony. Although I do have security programs, Daedalus was designed to wage war in both the physical and virtual realms. It has evolved since then, and I doubt I could do more than slow it down."

  Athame bit her lip.

  "When the emissary enters the system, I'd like it if you stayed with your friends in the apartments below. Please, Athame?"

  "I get to stay at Nalaura's place for a w
eek." Athame stuck her bottom lip out.

  Merte shook her head, but caught herself. Nalaura was a classmate of Athame's. She suspected strongly that Nalaura was the one that got Athame into fleshriding—hacking into the cerebral computer implants of others to covertly hijack their brain's sensory information. It was illegal in the Confederation, but that didn't stop cults of fleshriders from springing up all over. The only surprise to Merte had been that they existed here, in New Bimini. It was a great shock to find her own daughter involved with that disgusting crowd. Merte forbade her from staying over at Nalaura's. Although it no longer happened in the open, Merte suspected some of Athame's late nights were actually spent doing exactly what she was forbidden to do. Hearing her daughter use it as a negotiating chip now only seemed to prove her suspicions.

  "That's out of the question," Merte said.

  Athame sighed through her nose and set her jaw.

  "That's unfair, mom. Nalaura is my friend."

  "I know what you two get up to, and it's wrong—"

  "What do you think we do, mom? Why don't you trust me?" Her tone was shrill.

  "That's not it, Athame. I just don't trust Nalaura."

  "I do. Shouldn't that matter?"

  "It does, but that incident last year might be the reason why Daedalus has taken such an interest in us. How you can go around wearing another's skin—and you violate them every time you hack into their cerebral computer, Athame. It's like you're—" Merte couldn't say it—wouldn't. She hadn't even intended to make a point of it. They'd already been over it several times and punishment meted out. Merte preferred to have things be over when it was agreed they were, but these were special circumstances.

  "Mom! I said I was sorry already!"

  "Athame, I didn't mean it like that. It's just that Ram thinks—"

  "Ram's an idiot!"

  "Ram put half this colony together in the days after we won our freedom. He deserves respect, Athame."

  "I hate to interrupt again, but you asked to be informed when flight control went on alert, Merte."

  Merte took a deep breath.

  "To be continued," she said. Athame gave her an annoyed look, and retreated to her room.

  Thank you, MARC. I'll head over there now.

  "You're welcome, Merte. I hesitate to say this, but you may want to try trusting Athame a bit. She is truly sorry for what went on, and it might just get her to be a bit more affable about hiding from the emissary. I can space the resources to make sure no fleshrider programs leave the colony while she's with Nalaura."

  She needs to be safe, MARC.

  "I'm sorry, Merte. It was just a suggestion generated from observing biological sentient beings for so long. Disregard it if you wish."

  Merte shook her head. She had bigger things to worry about than her daughter's defiance right now. She knew her daughter was adventurous at heart, but Athame would come into line soon. She just needed time to get used to the idea.

  -----

  "The ship is definitely not in our databases," Ram said when Merte entered the small space traffic control room across the hall from her office.

  Ram and two technicians presently occupied a handful of chairs beside several terminal desks and a big holographic display in the room's center. The moment Merte entered her implant picked up the feed from the computers and a composite image from the long range sensor network displayed the alien ship in the air.

  It looked like a broad oval, shallowly convex on its ventral side, with a large I-beam running down its center. The side views showed that there were other constructs that looked like sensor blisters and turrets within the bilateral niches created by the beam's shape, None of them matched any known class of weapon or detection equipment. What two things worried Merte the most, however, were the large cannon-like opening at the beam's head wide enough to be a heavy mass acceleration weapon, and the vessel's apparent lack of any means of propulsion. She was used to seeing the latter on Revok ships, but they always signaled the colony when entering the system.

  "What's its velocity?"

  "One-quarter c, traveling on an elliptical path that will intersect New Bimini's orbit in four hours, twenty-six minutes." Ram's voice was full of tension.

  "How did it get so close? Have we attempted to contact it yet?"

  "It appeared on our sensors eight AU out and started closing immediately. It has been ignoring our transmissions." Ram glared at her.

  "What?"

  "I think this is our emissary," he said.

  "I must concur, Merte. The timing is correct, and there is a field around the craft I cannot identify. It is distorting the quantum foam around the vessel. I presume that it has something to do with its propulsion system," MARC said.

  "Where's the parent ship?"

  "There is none."

  "That can't be. How did the vessel get here? Only the Revok can travel at faster-than-light speed without a jump ship." Merte frowned.

  "Apparently, they're not the only ones who can pull off that trick. You should've let me go, Merte." Ram shook his head. His eyes were on fire.

  "So you really think this is Daedalus?"

  "I really think I should've left yesterday," he said.

  "Merte, I give it an ninety-five percent probability that you are correct in assuming this is Deadalus' craft. The timing is correct, however, it is not responding to our attempts at contact. It could be either an unknown type of Revok ship or something entirely new."

  "Bring the defenses up online. I want the surface mass drivers and the particle cannon ready," Merte said.

  Their weapons were another wise purchase Ram made in the days following their victory. The planetary defense systems enabled them to discourage the ETMC's one and only attempt to reassert control over New Bimini. Once more, the details of where they came from and how they worked she left to Ram, but she was grateful for their presence. She hoped this strange craft did belong to Daedalus, she had no desire to test their weapon's effectiveness against something as clearly advanced as the ship bearing down on them.

  "We could always ask the Kogot-Kri for help."

  Ram waved his hand and a map of the system appeared in the air beside the view of the alien craft. The large Orgnan vessel, marked by an amber rectangle, hovered ten-and-a-half Astronomical Units out from New Bimini, right in the system's FTL-exit zone.

  "The alien ship is already closer and faster than any support the Orgnan could send. We're on our own." Ram pointed to the red triangle marking the unidentified vessel closing in on the image of New Bimini.

  An icon popped into existence in Merte's vision showing her the colony's defenses were online.

  Das'Voq, find Athame and bring her down to the bombardment shelter, Merte messaged her husband.

  "Do you need me up there?"

  No, just get Athame to safety. We might be under attack soon.

  The red triangle started to slow down.

  "What's going on?" Merte asked.

  "The unidentified vessel is slowing at a record negative acceleration. The quantum fields around it are oscillating at an incredible rate," MARC said.

  Merte turned her attention to the visual image of the craft. Fed to them via a series of satellite relays, the image was virtually in real time with only a few minutes' delay. The vessel shimmered and rotated on its central axis.

  "Are we getting interference?" Merte asked.

  "No, the distortions are actual ripples in space-time around the ship," Ram said.

  Merte walked around the image, following the cannon like aperture around. She assumed it was the front of the vessel, and chided herself because the only reason she did was the opening looked like an eye.

  It started to glow.

  "What's going on?"

  "My sensors cannot penetrate the ship's hull, but there is a power spike coming from the vessel's aperture."

  "Which way is it facing?" Merte felt a phantom hand squeeze her gut.

  "Calculating," MARC said. "It isn't the colony. Cal
culating—"

  A bright white line spat forth from the ship's aperture. The holographic simulation of it went right through Merte's chest.

  "By the Matre," Ram muttered. His eyes had the distracted look of someone reading data from their implant.

  "What?" Merte asked.

  "That's a particle beam, like the type we use, but the rate of flow is much, much higher. It's—By the Will, that's a relativistic jet."

  "A relativistic cannon," MARC said. "The beam is clearly weaponized as it is not being used to propel the vessel. I calculate the rate of flow of hydrogen ions to be at 0.9999c."

  "But where's it shooting at?" Merte's voice cracked.

  "Calculations complete. The target is the Orgnan ship," MARC said.

  "What?" Merte watched in shock as the amber rectangle vanished from the system map. It only took a moment for the shock to change into horror.

  "They're going to assume we did it," she whispered.

  The color drained from Ram's face.

  "We can ask the Confederation—"

  "No, we can't Ram. We rebelled against them. We're an independent system-state. They'll either laugh at us, or annex us before they even consider helping." Everything they'd fought for was collapsing.

  "I told you we should've run," Ram said. His eyes were wide.

  "I have an incoming message from the vessel," MARC said.

  Merte licked her lips. Her fingers were tingling and she was losing sensation in her legs. This couldn't be happening. The Orgnan would enslave them all if they didn't outright kill them.

  "Merte."

  "Sorry, go ahead MARC." Answering was more of a reflex than a conscious choice.

  A voice speaking in a pleasant, base tone filled her mind's ear.

  "Prefix code 1111000100011011000110010010101111-10. This is vessel designation six-alpha. Prepare yourselves for the arrival of the Emissary of Daedalus."

  Merte looked at Ram. He wore the same, shocked expression she did.

  "Daedalus just destroyed that Orgnan ship?" She shook her head.

  "I told you we should've run," Ram said.

  -----

  "You son of a bitch, you started a war!" Merte shook in her office chair. She probably shouldn't be challenging the emissary alone in her office, but she was angry and the others were in the waiting room just outside.