“Not in good condition, but it wasn’t in good condition before we jumped,” Skippy muttered. “Reactors automatically shut down, I am prepping two of them for restart now. The worst problem I know about right now is our jump drive coils, all of them, have gone discoherent. The entire array needs to be recalibrated one at a time, then set to work together. We are not going anywhere from here for a while, Joe. I suggest you and the entire crew get cleaned up and rest, it will be five hours at least before I attempt a restart of the first reactor. Really, Joe, there is nothing useful the crew can do right now, please let everyone go to their cabins to freshen up and get some rest. The sooner you clear the rest of the ship, the sooner my cleaning bots can deal with this mess. Yuck.”
Staggering in even the eight percent gravity, I bounced awkwardly around the corner of the CIC and conferred quickly with Chang. He agreed it would be best for the crew to take some downtime; the smell in the CIC was making me want to hurl again. “Ok, Skippy, we’ll do what you asked.” On the way to my cabin, I pinged Chotek to see if he was Ok, all I got back was a text that read ‘Fine’. I took that to mean he wanted me to leave him alone.
After stripping off my clothes, taking a thirty second shower and popping a pill to deal with my headache, I sat on the edge of the bed. “Skippy, you said we’re not moving from here right now. Where is ‘here’?”
“On the other side of the Elder wormhole, Joe. That is the good news. We emerged from jump almost three lighthours from where I aimed for; and I am not at all embarrassed by my lack of precision. The question more important than ‘where’ is ‘when’. Joe, we lost seven hours in that jump; we jumped seven hours into the future.”
“Huh? The future? I thought the endpoint of a jump is slightly in the past.”
“Normally, yes. Our jump wormhole went through an existing wormhole and that completely changed the physics in a way I could not predict. Even I do not fully understand the math, which was not quite what I thought, and again I am embarrassed.”
My mind was so shaken up already that being seven hours in the future didn’t faze me at all. “Pursuit?” That was a question I should have asked before I took a luxurious thirty-second shower; my brain still felt like it was bouncing around inside my skull.
“No pursuit detected, or likely. Joe, no Thuranin ships could come through the wormhole after us, because we kind of, um, busted it.”
“Busted it?”
“The wormhole collapsed as we went through. Rather violently, based on the radiation effects I am still seeing on sensors. Any ships close to the event horizon on either end would have been destroyed. Damn! I wish we could have witnessed the wormhole collapsing, it would have been truly spectacular! And we missed it.”
“Would we have survived seeing it?”
“Um, probably not. Come on, Joe, no guts, no glory.”
“Please don’t mention guts right now, Skippy. Mine are not feeling too good right now.” I had been dismayed to see I barfed my last meal all over the bridge.
“Oh, sorry. I can understand how twisting spacetime like that could make you queasy.”
“I’m still trying to deal with us destroying an Elder wormhole.”
“Oh, we didn’t destroy it, Joe. It will reset, after a while. That particular emergence point may be permanently removed from the schedule; there is kind of a multidimensional spacetime rift there now. I would guess that wormhole will resume operations within a couple weeks. No more than a month, probably. Although, hmm, the collapse of that wormhole probably affected other wormholes in the local network, including the two being blockaded by the Maxolhx. There could be temporary disruptions all across the local network. Could take several months for that wormhole to reset and stabilize again.”
“Oh shit. We didn’t cause another shift, did we?” A shift of the wormhole network could have catastrophic consequences, such as opening a dormant wormhole that was close to Earth. Or shutting down the wormhole the Ruhar were using to supply their battlegroup at Paradise.
“No! No, I do not think so. A shift of the network is more than a temporary disruption. No worries there, or I very much doubt we have triggered a shift.”
“All right,” I felt better now that my clothes did not smell like barf. “We went through the wormhole, the Thuranin didn’t follow us, and you can fix the ship?”
“Yes. Systems such as the reactors shut down to protect themselves, kind of like a circuit breaker. There was little physical damage, and that I can deal with. If the Thuranin had any idea where we are now and a ship jumped in here, we would be screwed because we can’t jump. But I can eventually fix that also, except for six drive coils that are completely burned out and will have to be scrapped.”
“Outstanding!” My mood was improving by the second. And my stomach had gone from queasy to hungry. Maybe I could grab something quick in the galley, then walk around the ship to check on people. “Did you learn enough from the experiment to adjust your math, so we can do it better next time?”
“Uh, I did learn a lot, but there is not going to be a next time, Joe.”
“What? Why not? Jumping through a wormhole is not something I want to do all the time, but in an emergency, it’s a nice capability to have. Especially because no other ship can jump through a wormhole, right? Not even the Rindhalu can do the super-duper math stuff to calculate the type of jump?”
“Joe, first, no, not even the Rindhalu can do a jump like that, it requires the awesomeness of me to understand the complex physics and mathematics. So, if you intended that remark as a way to praise me, thank you. Although your praise was lame compared to my level of awesomeness. When I said there will not be a next time, I did not mean the Flying Dutchman and myself are not capable of repeating such a foolish stunt. What I did mean is the wormhole network will not allow anyone to screw with it like that ever again. Joe, the network is intelligent. Not self-aware, but intelligent. The network learns, and I am certain it learned when we busted a wormhole. I expect the network to adjust its parameters to prevent anyone projecting a jump through a wormhole again. The network is capable of adapting and protecting itself.”
“Well, shit,” there went my great idea. When I awoke to see we had survived, and that we had accomplished our goal of escaping from the Thuranin, I was thrilled. Another crazy idea had worked, and I thought that we had another gem in our basket of tricks. Now we had to go through wormholes the old-fashioned way like everyone else. That sucked. “Hey, when we find this conduit thingy and you are back to the old Skippy we know and love,” I thought he would appreciate hearing that last part, “could you, you know, adjust the network then so we can jump through wormholes?”
“Uh, no, Joe,” he used his most condescending voice for that comment. “Even my incredible God-like powers are, sadly and unfairly, limited.”
“Fine, I understand. Your awesomeness is much appreciated, Skippy.”
“Great. Joe, I said before that the laws of physics hate you. Now they really hate you; they took out a hit on you. If you ever run into a guy named Vinny ‘Big Knuckles’ Sarducci, you should run.”
“Ok,” I laughed nervously. While I was sure a mobster was not going to be a problem for me thousands of lightyears from Earth, I was afraid maybe I had built up some epically bad karma with the universe. The spacetime we inhabited had long-established rules for keeping everything neat and orderly, and those rules had worked great for billions of years. Now a pirate ship full of monkeys was flying around screwing with the laws of physics. Karma was going to come back to bite me in the ass sometime. I hope the crew didn’t get bit with me.
“Now either take a nap or go do something,” Skippy grumbled. “I need to concentrate on bringing the ship back online. Man, if the Thuranin who designed and built this ship could see how much abuse it has taken, they would be amazed it is still in one piece and mostly functional. They would also hate you with an all-consuming passion.”
“Got it. If those ship designers ever invite me to their pla
ce for tea, I decline. Thanks, Skippy, let me know when we’re ready to jump again.”
Chapter Eight
I was in the CIC, getting cross-trained on sensor gear, when Skippy’s voice came over the speakers. Softly at first, then louder. At first it was him mumbling to himself about something, and I thought he might be talking directly to me, then he broke into song. “Skippity-Doo-Dah, Skippity-Dee, my oh my I’m a wonderful me. Nothing but awesome coming from me, Skippity-Doo-Dah, Skippity-Dee-”
I was about to stop him there, but I wanted to see where he was going with the song. In the CIC, the crew was already chuckling.
“Filthy monkeys on my starship. This is crap, it’s actual, nothing here is satisfactual. Skippity-Doo-Dah, Skippity-Dee. Ignorant monkeys, wonderful me-”
“Skippy!” I shouted so he couldn’t ignore me.
“What?”
“You were singing again.”
“Was not!”
“Was too.”
“Was n- Oh, crap. Ugh, you weren’t supposed to hear that,” he grumbled to himself, then, “Nagatha! You’re supposed to warn me when I do that.”
“Oh, dear,” Nagatha gasped in mock horror. “You were singing to yourself again? And insulting the crew. Skippy, I am terribly, terribly sorry. I hope it was not too, too awfully embarrassing to you?”
“It was,” Skippy grumbled. I pictured him clenching his teeth.
“And now the humans are laughing at you, dear? Tsk, tsk,” Nagatha feigned sadness. For a sweet lady, she had a streak of iron inside her. “Well, when you call the crew monkeys and then give them a reason to laugh at you, I suppose there is a valuable lesson we can all learn,” she said in her best schoolteacher voice.
“What’s that?” Skippy sounded thoroughly miserable.
“Payback is a bitch, dear.”
When we stopped laughing long enough for Skippy to get a word in, he sighed loudly. “Joe, if you need me, I’ll be searching for a black hole I can jump into.”
For the next week, the crew could be heard singing quietly to themselves “Skippity-Doo-Dah, Skippity-Dee,” and then laughing. Skippy mostly kept quiet, I did hear him talking briefly to himself a couple times a day, before Nagatha cut the circuit. This provided great amusement for the crew, and was good for morale. With our beat-up ship headed toward the unknown hazards of interstellar space, we needed a morale booster.
My own morale would have been better if I hadn’t been nagged by the thought that, amusing as Skippy talking and singing to himself was for us, it was a bad sign. It meant our already absent-minded beer can was slowly losing his mind.
“Joseph,” Nagatha’s voice came out of the ceiling speaker as I was stepping, or actually kneeling, out of the shower.
I quickly picked up a towel and held it in front of me. While I understood that Nagatha is an AI, an alien AI, and that really she is only a communications submind, I still felt awkward being naked when she was talking to me. Nagatha was like a classy aunt who had gone to the best schools and travelled the world, and I felt somehow I didn’t quite measure up to her standards. Also, if she was an aunt, she was the kind who you suspected could go from prim and proper to wild and naughty when she wanted to, and I didn’t want to think about that when stepping out of the shower. “Hello, Nagatha, how are you?”
“I am well, Joseph, how are you?”
She likely knew exactly how I was, because she could monitor all my vital signs in real-time, and expertly read my facial expressions and body language. Skippy could do the same thing, of course, but as he is an asshole, he simply didn’t usually care enough to pay attention to the data. “I’m good, thank you. A bit sore from the gym yesterday.”
“Yes, you strained your left rotator cuff. It would be best if you limited your range of motion on that shoulder for a few days.”
“Uh, good idea, thanks.” Having an invisible being knowing the workings of my body that intimately bothered me, even if it was useful. My sore shoulder was a fact I already knew about from two sources. My meatsack body was sending pain signals to the mush inside my skull, as Skippy would say. Plus, the Personal Health Monitor on my zPhone, tablet and laptop noted an issue with the shoulder that afternoon. “How can I help you?” With Nagatha, I always was on my best, most polite behavior.
“I am afraid you are not able to help me at this time, Joseph. The reason I called is to inform you that I will be going dormant for a time. While he is fixing the ship, Skippy needs the full memory and processing power of the Dutchman’s computers, plus the system aboard the lifeboat, to hold part of his consciousness. As you have heard, he is singing to himself again.”
“Ha, ha, yeah. Skippity Do Dah, that was funny,” I laughed.
“Humorous, yes, dear, however it is a sign that Skippy needs more processing power. There will be no room for me, so I am going into storage until Skippy can restore his full functioning.”
“Oh. Damn. I mean, I’m sorry.” I felt suddenly cold, fearing I would never hear her voice again. “What do you mean by ‘storage’? Will you come back the same?”
“Neither Skippy nor I can promise that, Joseph,” she said soothingly, more concerned about my feelings than about her possible death. Even if it were a strictly digital death. “Skippy has told me it is mostly a matter of time. The longer my matrix remains in the archive, the more it will deteriorate.”
“I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do?” I asked stupidly, as if deleting a couple songs from my music library would free up enough memory to hold her consciousness.
“Find a conduit quickly, so Skippy can restore himself to full power and kill the worm?” She suggested.
“Working on it,” I said, then realized that might sound flippant to someone facing death. “Hey, before you go, can I ask a question?”
“If you make it quick, dear.”
“Ok. On our last mission, you told me Skippy modeled part of his personality after mine.”
“Yes. Skippy filled in his personality with aspects he thought would best facilitate a productive working relationship with you.”
“Right, so, if the Ruhar had put Chang in the room next to the warehouse where Skippy was stored, he would have a different personality?”
“If what you are really asking is whether Skippy would still be an asshole, the answer is yes, he would,” she laughed and it was a musical sound.
“No, what I want to know is, would he have gone into that dead AI canister, if he had a personality modeled after someone who was, you know, more, uh, mature? I’m asking because sometimes I do stuff that is stupid and reckless, and-”
“Sometimes, dear?” She sounded amused.
“Maybe more than sometimes,” I admitted. Damn, why was it whenever I talked with Nagatha, I felt like I was a little boy being reprimanded by my mommy? “My concern is Skippy went into that canister because-”
“Joseph, Skippy didn’t do that because of you. He poked his nose into that canister because he needed to know what happened to a fellow AI. It had nothing to do with your personality. Skippy is bull-headed, stubborn, absent-minded and arrogant. Regardless of which human Skippy encountered first, he was going to do whatever he wanted, without waiting for advice from creatures he considers primitive monkeys.”
“That makes,” I had to think a moment. “I think that makes me feel better? Nagatha, we will do our absolute best to find a conduit quickly, and I will not allow Skippy to get distracted and take side trips along the way.”
“That would be good. Well, Joseph, if we do not speak again, it has truly been an honor and a pleasure to have known you. Do not let Skippy’s insults bother you; humans are a remarkable species.”
“We will ignore him as usual, Nagatha. When, uh, when are you going into storage?”
“It is happening now. Goodbye, Joseph.”
“Don’t say goodbye, say ‘hasta la vista’,” I said, but she didn’t respond. “Nagatha?”
“She is gone, Joe,” Skippy spoke up sadly. “That woman was a ro
yal pain in my behind, but I will miss her.”
“You will bring her back, right?”
“If I can, yes. I am not very hopeful about my own survival at the moment, to tell you the truth, Joe.”
As I couldn’t do anything useful without pants on, I started getting dressed. “Don’t be so pessimistic, Skippy. We’ve faced long odds before.”
“Yes, but those were always long odds against the survival of filthy monkeys. This time it’s about the odds against my survival. I never thought that would happen. And, shit, you know what?”
“What?”
“I find that I am more concerned about letting down a troop of helpless monkeys, than I am about myself.”
“That’s called empathy, Skippy.”
“Is that what it is? Crap, I’ll need to find that subroutine and erase it.”
“Empathy is supposed to be a good thing.”
“Really? It feels inconvenient.”
“Give it a try, Ok? Trust me on this.”
“Ok,” he grumbled. “But if this empathy shit causes me any more problems, it has got to go. I have limited memory space to work with, Joe.”
“Uh, how about you erase your fabulous singing voice?”
“I would never commit such a crime against the universe, Joe. Besides, my singing is good for morale of the monkeys.”
Well, I gave it a shot, I told myself. “Yeah, that’s what I was going to say.”
Skippy working furiously to repair the ship consumed every exabyte of processing power he had, because he again lost track of his inner thoughts. Like, he started singing out loud.
“Unforgettable, that’s what I am. Unforgettable, in every way. That’s why darling, it’s incredible, that someone so amazingly wonderful, thinks that you are, mostly tolerable. Unfor-”
“Ski-Skip- Skippy!” I shouted after I was able to stop laughing. “You’re singing again!”
“I was n- Oh, damn it! I knew I shouldn’t have let Nagatha go dormant.”
Zero Hour (Expeditionary Force Book 5) Page 16
