“You had to know they’d catch you, and what would happen,” I told him.
“All part of the plan,” Theo shrugged. His head lolled down so his chin was on his chest. That was the last of the power he had to run his servos. “I didn’t think I’d survive, but life is full of surprises. I’m happy they didn’t get them. Some soldiers are good, they rescue people, protect them. The ones who came here were professional a…”
I waited a moment before finishing for him. “Assholes?”
“Agitators,” he corrected with a snicker. “Corporate thugs. They fight for clients, for money, make trouble for competitors, murder or capture people from opposing companies so one stock rises and another falls.”
“So, why give them to me?”
“You remind me of someone I trusted. Besides, you don’t know how to use them. You’ll have to fix me first.”
“Devious,” I said with a smile. “In a good way.”
“You’ll help?”
“Why not?” I said. “Nothing else to do.”
“Snacks and working technology from this level in the box to your left,” he said. “I must power down now.” The lights went out, so to speak. There wasn’t a sign of life left in the android after that for about fourteen hours.
I didn’t need any of the food he offered, but I thought I’d look in his box anyway. There were a few wrapped gifts, small things with the names of the people on the wall written on them. I left those alone, piled neatly where I found them. Thinking about Theo during better days, remembering people’s birthdays and giving them presents as he did his thing in the office got me way down. I mean, here was this bot who really had to make sure he was around for people to plug drives into him so their data was secure. That was his job, I guess, he could have stood in the middle of the room and done nothing, but from the recordings on the sheets he hung, and the other playbacks I found it looked like he was Mister Sunshine, spreading good vibes and keeping morale sky high.
The relationships he had in the building were real, so much so that I felt like a creep for digging through recordings after a while. I got a real laugh from one though, when he found out that Neke, one of the associate brokers was seven months pregnant. The recordings had to be from his protected systems, I found them dumped onto a disposable display. In them he’s knocking on her belly; “hello, little human. Should I tell her that you’re a girl?” The ladies gathered around erupted in shock and laughter, no one was more surprised than Neke. She must have been a special lady, because she was shocked at first. “I’m sorry, I’m only good at keeping corporate secrets!” Theo said. She must have been overjoyed at the news, and obviously didn’t blame Theo for spilling the beans, because she was hugging him a few seconds later.
For the next five weeks, he was her servant whenever time allowed, and he had a pile of favourite moments recorded to prove it. I thought it ended with Neke putting her new born in his arms a few weeks after she – Miiri – was born. Theo was absolutely in awe, and a pretty good touch with the kid too. I sat in that dark service room, looking from that tender moment to this broken down bot that was adopted by a special bunch of employees and started seeing him for the lost guy he was. Then the playback switched to something I won’t get into. Neke was working on the day the bots went nuts, they got her in the lobby. I don’t know where her kid is, I hope she’s safe somewhere. Theo took care of her body. The last recording on that screen was Theo telling her; “I’m sorry they killed you, Neke Summers. I will miss you.” He placed her in a recycling machine with the rest of the bodies and locked it. I didn’t check out the rest of the stacked up screens or see if any of the ones he’d hung had playback in them. That was enough of a punch in the gut for one day.
I checked another box out and found a few chocolate covered strawberries and orange slices, some real gourmet stuff. There were also enough meal bars to last me a month. If I didn’t already have the food and water problems taken care of, Theo would have saved my life.
While he was sleeping I thought of all the questions I should have asked him, isn’t that always the way? Are there other bots around that survived the electromagnetic pulse? Would any of the vaults and secure areas open, even with a hard key? Did any part of the facility still have power, or could it be reset? Repaired?
The question that haunted me most was one of the last ones to come to mind: Would the emergency communications system be able to find my people?
* * *
The flow of images and short rescued video clips accompanied by Noah’s voice was interrupted by a high priority alarm. The new system in Alice’s comm unit sent a sense of urgency through her nervous system, and she had a mental picture of where she had to go before she checked the display on her wrist. “I’ve never seen that part of the starbase before,” Alice said to herself.
“What section?” Yawen asked from the bed across the room.
“It’s a secure briefing room three levels up,” Alice explained. She wasn’t sure she should name it, being marked as clearance level seven. “I have a briefing there; it’s classified.”
“I didn’t get any orders,” Yawen said. “Must be for all you nineties.”
Nineties was a new slang term that was starting to float around. It referred to the students who still had over ninety points. “Maybe, I’ll tell you about it if I can.”
“No worries, I have enough to deal with. Two make-up tests tomorrow,” Yawen said. “See you later.”
Alice made sure her uniform was in order and left her quarters at a jog. She met Ute, the small amphibian, and Iruuk, a tall, furry Nafalli and one of her favourite people, in the lift. “Priority briefing?” she asked.
“Classified level seven!” Ute said in an excited whisper. “I thought there were only three security levels.”
“Just because that’s all we’ve ever had access to, doesn’t mean that’s all there is to see,” Iruuk said.
“I guess I was too busy to think about it,” Ute said with a shrug.
“You have a point,” Iruuk said. “They have been cramming so much information in our brains and putting us through so many practical tests, I can’t imagine what they want us to learn about now.”
The lift arrived and the trio stepped out, joined by Titus and the rest of the Nineties. “Yawen’s doing two makeup exams tomorrow. She’s in the mid seventies in terms of points, I tell her that’s amazing, and it is, but she’s still scrounging to recover a few points at a time.”
“They’re important practical exams though,” Ute said. “Navigation Three and Technical Support Five. I took Tech Five with her: she barely passed. If she passes on her own she could recover three points. I think she could do it. Her problem is her frustration level, which leads to counter-productive behaviour, not her intelligence.”
“She does freak out when she runs into a problem she doesn’t like sometimes. I’m just worried that if she retakes too much, she’ll fall behind and not enter service with us,” Alice said.
“I would rather graduate with as many points as possible,” Iruuk said. “So I can see why she wants to go to the trouble. Tell her I can help if she likes.”
“I will, maybe she’ll take help from you.”
They arrived at the broad double doors and walked through as a group. The long room had slate coloured metal walls and floors with only just enough light to walk by. Three clicks on the intercom indicated that an important instruction was about to be given. The door closed. “Stand at attention and face the port side, please.”
Everyone in the room snapped to and fell silent. The three-metre-tall wall in front of them became transparent, revealing the inside of one of the base’s manufacturing bays. Arms with reclamation tools that seemed to erase metal as easily as a smudge on glass were busy taking a Haven Shore Runner Class Corvette apart.
“What you are seeing is Classified Level Seven,” said Ayan as she entered through a door from the left. Her curly red hair was bound up in a bun, and she wore a heavy black jacke
t over her uniform with the markings of Admiral on her shoulder. Insignia on her chest indicated that she was the Haven Shore Navy Operations Commander.
“That’s one hell of a promotion,” Perry muttered quietly.
“It is,” Ayan said, her expression relaxed, and her diction clear. “The newly elected leadership appointed trustworthy leaders to the Haven Shore military, and I landed here. I would have liked to work my way up to my position, but they saw me as the only suitable candidate for this post. That isn’t to say that I wasn’t subjected to testing. Testing I encourage everyone here to try. You will not lose points for failing, but you could gain a few if you manage to make it through half the simulations.”
Ayan glanced at Alice, her expression unchanging, then turned towards the transparent wall. “Be sure that is the last time I will ever explain how I got my rank or position in this Fleet. Now, for the reason you’re really here. I am embarrassed to say that the ships built based on my incomplete designs while I was away had critical flaws. The Runner Class Corvette was an ambitious design, but poorly thought out hull geometry, power systems that don’t take new technology into account, and non-modular thinking render it worse than obsolete – these problems make this model dangerous. It is easier to recycle the entire line and build a new one than it would be to make changes to existing ships.
I realize that you are all waiting for your trainee postings on these ships, but that will obviously have to wait. The Runner Class is being scrapped today.”
Alice’s heart sank. All the effort she put into learning about that ship had gone to waste. She’d even dreamt of being on the bridge of one of the high speed response combat vessels. Alice knew the Runner Class was being replaced, but watching the deconstruction happen before her eyes made it absolutely real to her.
Part Thirteen
Alice looked from Ayan, where the Admiral stood at the edge of the window watching the disassembly of a warship that was less than a year old, to the warship itself as it was taken apart. The robotic arms attacked it from all sides, converting metal to raw materials with graceful sweeps and jagged pulling motions. Carnie, or Noah, the subject of her classified report, was on her mind.
“I can’t take all the responsibility for this failure,” Ayan said. “But I share it. While I was away chasing my past, Freeground Station, the lead designer here favoured production speed so much that she disabled many of the check systems built into Lorander software. These safeties would have highlighted errors and flaws in the design of the Runner Class. If they knew how to use the rest of the building system, it would have provided solutions as well, saving them time overall. The Lorander systems hadn’t been programmed with what we’ve learned about the dimension drive technology either, so every adaptation of the Edxian machinery was flawed. It’s a secret the Fleet kept from our closest allies, and it could not stand. The next version of the technology is decades ahead of what you’ve seen, but you have enough training already to know the basics.”
The anxiety shared by the Officer Cadets was thick in the air. Ayan turned towards them in time to see Ute blow a large bubble. It popped as it grew to the size of her head and the amphibian regarded the Admiral with embarrassed, wide eyes. “I’m sorry, Admiral. It was an involuntary reaction to stress, Ma’am. I have it under control, Ma’am.”
“It’s all right, Cadet,” Ayan said. “I needed you all to see where over-confidence and an unwillingness to do the work required to get things right the first time can get you. Many of the errors here could have been prevented if the people responsible for building the Runner Class before the design was ready were willing to look deeper into the technology Lorander gave us. To put it simply; they only had to read the manual.”
There were a few nervous chuckles, and Ute smiled warmly at Ayan, who returned the gesture, but only for a moment. She went on, and Alice could see that Ayan was a little excited. “While I was making the journey from the Iron Head Nebula, I made sure that the secrets I discovered could be taught, and that I could show people how they could improve our situation here. I learned more in that time than I ever thought I could. That fighter cockpit was a fantastic classroom, and the poor pilot who was in charge of making certain that I got home in one piece is back in training. Not to sharpen her skills as a pilot, but to enrol in the new Apex program, which started two days ago. When I returned I shared this knowledge with a large team that has been going through the Lorander documentation and learning about the technology they gave us. Using this information and some new discoveries, we’ve designed a new ship that is going through testing at every stage. Most of us have been working so hard that we don’t remember what our quarters look like; the team deserves more credit than I can give for their dedication. Some of you have parents and friends on this team, and all of you have had a hand in the refinement of these ships. Some of your practical testing has included advanced Lorander technology that you have had to learn to use during the course. You’ve all helped to improve ship layouts, operational software, and other systems we’ve put in front of you. Most of your training on the Runner Class ships will apply here, especially with the system interfaces, so the operating system may be more advanced, and you’ll learn more later, but you could sit at a station and start serving today if you had to. That’s a good thing, because you’re going to be assigned to a ship soon. You will still be cadets, but we’ve determined that you’re ready to learn aboard a ship while you serve. Here’s one of those ships now.” The entire room jostled a little, and it only took Alice a moment to realize that it was moving. It shifted up first then towards the front of the station. When they stopped they were in front of another manufacturing bay, only this one was piecing together a ship that was still all interior and frame. Arms with industrial fabrication printer hands reached into the ship’s core, leaving seats, beds, deck plating, wiring and plumbing behind with such grace and speed that it was mesmerizing.
Ayan manipulated a small interface on the window and the image of a vicious, heavily armoured ship was overlaid atop the window. “This is the Reaper Class, a multi-role vessel that is at the core of our operations. You will learn everything there is to know about the Reaper. This ship can run with a tenth of the crew compliment of a ship her size, respond faster than any vessel known in our galaxy, has intelligent armour plating, a new secure operating system, and more capabilities for a vessel in her class than anything built. We have used the most advanced technology wherever necessary, and when we could use familiar systems, we made sure that we implemented only the best designs. This ship does put the lessons we learned from the Runner Class into play, but also brings in technology from the Triton that we’ve come to depend on while building using Lorander tools and some of their most proven designs. By the time everyone else learns about this, you will be experts. The rest of your academic studies have been suspended, which is no loss since you’ve already completed the academic and practical testing required for you to serve aboard an advanced vessel. Any critical assignments or missions that are under way will be completed in the next five days. Following the five days you have to complete your critical assignments, there will be a mandatory two day rest. After that, you will join my team so you can learn about the ship that will give us a chance in this war. Any questions?”
“Admiral, what will happen to our trainee recruits?” Iruuk asked.
“They have already been reassigned and their training will be brought in line with our new educational strategy.”
“Ma’am,” addressed Buto, one of the few trainees to have a score dip below ninety, then recover and return to ninety-one. “I don’t see any weapon emplacements, how would this ship measure up against a Regent Galactic destroyer?”
“In ship-to-ship combat, I would hope the Regent Galactic destroyer would surrender for their own sake. If you include the fighter wing that the Reapers will be carrying, then there’s little chance that an enemy destroyer would be worth mentioning at length in the captain’s log,” Ayan replied
.
“Admiral, Ma’am,” Ute said, stepping forward. “I wonder what is happening with our classmates? The ones with lower scores who are left behind?”
“The new Apex class, a group of eighty four officers who already have military experience, are joining them later today. We’re redoubling our efforts to make sure that scores stop declining, and concentrating on specialties that will be determined by aptitude. You’ll see them in the service, and they’re getting the best training, don’t worry.”
“Thank you, Admiral,” Ute said, slipping back in line.
There were more questions about systems, crew compliment, when they’d know what their assignments were, but Alice couldn’t help wonder if the Admiral knew when her father would return, or if the rest of the fleet in the Iron Head Nebula were delayed.
After answering the short barrage of questions, Ayan looked the cadets over, then nodded to herself. “Haven Fleet takes care of its own. I’m happy to be the one who gets to tell you that you’ve all been given housing. You won’t be spending your leave sleeping on sofas, in spare bedrooms or in the barracks. Instead, we’ve finished building the first phase of Paradise Landing, a city we’re building for soldiers and their families. You will be some of the first to move in. It’s still on the main island, so you’re not far from Haven Shore, and it’ll be under the defence shield, so there’s no need to worry about safety. We want Paradise Landing to be your peaceful refuge, so if you have suggestions while you’re there, submit them to Command. Your personal belongings have been moved there, and you’re welcome to move family members in. Enjoy your leave, but be responsible. You are still on the point system. Your shuttles are waiting, dismissed.”
The Officer Trainees saluted and filed out quietly, happy but stunned overall. Alice approached Ayan instead of following them through the hatch. She wasn’t the only one. A trainee named Pirine approached, looked at Alice as though she wished she wasn’t there, then back to Ayan. “Admiral, I was on track to command a Runner Class vessel, I’ve already learned everything I need to captain one as my first assignment. What happens now? I’m sure there are gaps in my training that I won’t be able to make up in time to be the commander I want to be.”
Spinward Fringe Broadcast 10.5: Carnie's Tale Page 7
