The Silver Liner: Takes Flight!

by Daniel Sullivan

  “There was no omission, you idiot!”

  “Xing,” replied Velos, “the next time you send bounty hunters after a target traveling with a G.A.I.S.F. unit, I advise you to warn them.”

  “Why you …” Xing stopped, realizing that Velos’ revelation was not at all what he was expecting. “What are you talking about?”

  “A G.A.I.S.F. unit,” Velos reiterated. “I had Doctor Keane in my grasp when Royce’s unit intervened. I took her out of the fight, but then Royce intervened and they escaped.”

  Xing was dead silent for a several seconds before responding. “How do you know about G.A.I.S.F.?” His voice was lowered now.

  “Irrelevant,” replied Velos. “My fee has increased one hundred-fold.”

  “The bounty on Keane is set,” retorted Xing. “If you think it’s too much for you …”

  “Then, perhaps I should collect on your head instead,” said Velos calmly.

  Xing was silent. He knew that there were people who wanted him dead. Not many, as he was hardly a public figure, but there were those who knew of him and considered him an inconvenience worthy of removal. More importantly, the presence of a G.A.I.S.F. unit on Royce’s ship was troubling, if true. There were not many in existence, and the model had been superseded by a more physically advanced unit with a less advanced CPU specifically to avoid the issue of achieving self-awareness, which had happened in several units.

  The Alliance had banned the use of both the G.A.I.S.F. model and then ordered the destruction of all traceable units. Four, however, had eluded capture, most likely due to either the agencies that utilized them continuing to use them very quietly or having destroyed them on their own when the problem of self-awareness manifested.

  “Are you certain that the unit was not an Escort-7?” asked Xing, knowing that the answer was no.

  “That depends—do you hold your post due to sexual indiscretion with a superior? That is the only way that I can rationalize the promoting of a man of your mean intellect to the post that you hold.”

  “Answer the question!” Xing bristled at the accusation.

  “After you,” Velos replied.

  “Absolutely not!” shouted Xing.

  “Then, you have your answer,” replied Velos. “This conversation is taxing, so I will be billing you for my time. Do not allow your account with me to become delinquent, Xing. You cannot get this woman yourself and there are others who seek her—and the android. Were I not a professional, I would not have wasted my time contacting you, and would instead have obtained them and their respective bounties from others who are less troublesome to work with. But I reserve the right to terminate our agreement at any time. You do not want that. Do you?”

  “No,” said Xing, finally relenting. “I will authorize your fee and add to it the bounty on G.A.I.S.F. model.”

  “No—you will pay me for the time taken in this conversation. Then I will bring you the doctor. You will pay me for doing the job and nothing more. See to it that I am paid upon delivery.” Velos ended the call before Xing could reply.

  Kendrick and Father Ronan sat in the room that the priest was converting into a chapel. It was a small meeting room, but Kendrick did not carry the corporate passengers originally intended as the ship’s mainstay. The priest had set up a makeshift altar and had arranged the chairs to resemble the layout of pews in a church.

  After two weeks of traveling, Kendrick had not been able to find a single thing that Father Ronan was fit to do. The only one who seemed interested in his saying Mass was Fiona. Kendrick had allowed him to set up a chapel, but the priest needed to be useful for something other than that. In addition, Kendrick was hesitant to trust a self-professed mob enforcer.

  “I can negotiate with people you purchase from,” offered Father Ronan, “I also became quite good as an accountant while running the church and I am good at tracking inventory.”

  “Father,” said Kendrick, “do you fully understand my issues with you maintaining the counts on anything in this ship?”

  “Yes,” the priest acknowledged, “but as I said, I have not been that person for many years. I have been honest, to the penny, with the church. Look, you can oversee everything I do, inspect or whatever you want.”

  “Honestly, Selena can do everything you just offered without lifting a finger,” Kendrick explained. “But haggling with merchants … I’m game to take you up on that. And having someone who can handle themselves to accompany Fiona or Heather to get supplies is a bonus. How about general maintenance?”

  “I did most all of the maintenance at the church,” he said. “Why?”

  “Cause this ship requires physical work to maintain and I expect everyone to keep their own areas clean and maintained to the best of their abilities. If you have maintenance man skills, you can help out when Fiona needs something maintenance-related done in the Med-Bay. But don’t let her make you clean. I don’t expect you to be janitor of anything but your own area. Same goes for everyone else. You might also be able to help out in engineering with Heather.”

  “That is more than generous of you, Sir,” said the priest.

  “No problem,” said Kendrick. “Get with the Doc and Heather and see what y’all can work out.” Kendrick was about to wrap up when a thought came to him. “Say, Father, you cook?”

  “Aye, and I’ve a fairly skilled hand.”

  “You should have told me that first,” Kendrick said. “Would have saved us a lot of time.”

  “Very well; chef and maintenance,” replied the priest. “That should keep me occupied and useful.”

  The two shook hands and Kendrick returned to the bridge.

  The captain plugged into the ship and was mentally with Selena, even though she was not physically present on the bridge. With the new servers in place, Selena had shifted her consciousness to the ship and had her avatar in sleep mode. Tanaka and Mun shared the bridge with him, even though Mun was mainly there socializing with Tanaka.

  “Captain,” asked Mun as Kendrick sat down, “do you ever train? Fiona says you can fight and I could use a training partner.”

  “I’m game,” replied Kendrick. “The priest looked pretty comfortable in a scrap as well. How about you, Mister Tanaka?”

  “Sure,” he replied. “We all trained in something on the Fujin, though you probably have a better setup here.”

  “Mun is hapkido,” noted Kendrick. “What about you?”

  “I’m Japanese, Captain,” laughed Tanaka. “Shotokan and kendo. You?”

  “Kenpo. I trained with Katsugan Sensei. I also did some boxing at the academy.”

  “So, what do you want me to be on the Selene?” asked Mun. “I mean, I was security chief and a gunner on the Fujin, but I don’t see a lot of rank differentiation here. There’s you and pretty much everyone else.”

  “Security chief is fine by me,” said Kendrick. “And it looks like a gunner might actually come in handy now. I don’t hold any military rank and until now, I’ve been the only crew. Heather is ‘chief’ engineer by virtue of being the only engineer and Fiona is just the doctor. Mister Tanaka, what was your rank on the Fujin?”

  “I was a naval officer in the Japanese Maritime Defense Force,” Tanaka replied. “I had the rank of second lieutenant, so Captain Fujita simply ranked me as the communications officer and referred to me as lieutenant or mister.”

  “Japanese Maritime Defense Force, huh? Well, you’re communications officer,” said Kendrick. “I just planned on calling everyone mister, miss, or missus and their name. I hadn’t given much thought to military-style ranks.”

  “I think functional titles work best, Sir. So, what do you think the reception on Mars will be like?” asked Tanaka, changing the subject.

  “Hell, I don’t know,” said Kendrick. “I’m going to make an announcement on the Fliers Board to the effect that the race is off due to unforeseen circumstances, but I’m still going to Mars. The bookies probably won’t be happy. Plus, we might have to deal with everyone who’s
after Fiona and the priest waiting for us as well. That is, if we go to the intended finish line, which at this point, we ain’t.”

  “Oh?” asked Mun, “Where then?”

  “My original destination,” replied Kendrick. “Phoenix Station; a non-U.S. and non-Alliance colony. They got the stuff I need and they’re probably not crawling with agents and hit men.”

  “Sir,” offered Tanaka, “have you considered, particularly in light of her recent indiscretion, just turning her in?”

  “No,” replied Kendrick without hesitation.

  “Why not?” Tanaka continued to press. “I mean, your actions would probably be cleared as self-defense for anything that happened with that Lorgen asshole. They’d pay you for her capture and you’d probably be rewarded by the biotech people that are after her. And it isn’t like you couldn’t get another doctor easily enough.”

  “I hadn’t really thought of that,” said Mun, “but it does make sense.”

  “A lot of things make sense,” said Kendrick. “And you make a pretty strong case.” He smiled his crooked smile and continued. “Thing is, whatever I do, I gotta be true to who I am, you know? I mean, yeah, she’s got her issues, but the real question is this: is handing her over in line with who I am? And if it ain’t, am I willing to go against myself for the sake of expediency and profit? There are consequences for the things we do, Mister Tanaka. If I go against myself, I have to be prepared to live with myself. And if I go against the Alliance and Uncle Sam, I have to not only live with that, but also decide if I’m willing to make my crew live with that too. The good of the ship versus my personal feelings. If I turn her in, there’s also no guarantee that they’ll let you guys go. And then, there’s Selena.”

  “What about Selena?” Tanaka seemed surprised at this.

  “Come on, you saw how we found her,” said Kendrick. “You know what she is. They decide they want her, they’ll be prepared. And there’ll be trouble.”

  “Well, Sir,” said Mun, “if we run into trouble, I’m ready.”

  “Think so?” Kendrick chuckled. “You’re really ready for what we might face? Ready for the consequences of what we’ve already done? I doubt it.”

  The incoming call chime sounded, and Xing answered glumly. “Xing here.” He was tired and Velos had proven to be a serious problem. A problem not easily solved. He cursed himself for ever bringing that parasite in in the first place.

  “Agent Keyes, Sir!” She was as gung ho as ever.

  “Report.”

  “Sir, intel from Atlas station confirms that Royce definitely has the girl and that he’s got a woman who appears to be a highly skilled assassin.”

  You don’t know the half of it, thought Xing. “Go on,” he said aloud.

  “Sir, I have confirmation that they’re heading for Mars. I’ve advised my people to contact me when they arrive. The pieces are in place and we can spring the trap as soon as they get there. The assassin apparently is some kind of android, but the bounty hunter took her out.”

  “Really?” This piqued Xing’s interest. “So, she’s been deactivated?”

  “Unknown,” replied Keyes. “She was carried to the ship and looked nonfunctional.”

  “Keyes, so far, you’ve proven to be an asset. I have to say that I am impressed with your initiative, ingenuity and resilience. I’m putting you on point in this operation.”

  “Sir, thank you Sir,” she said with pride. “I won’t let you down!”

  “See to it that you don’t,” replied Xing.

  “Yes, Sir!”

  Kendrick went off duty for the night. Installed in the servers as she was, Selena had the ship, so he could get some sleep. He had taken the injured gynoid to convalesce in the cabin nearest his own after Fiona had patched up the bullet wounds. He could not bear the thought of leaving her in the Med-Bay on a table for the duration of the trip. Now, Selena had her own dedicated quarters.

  Even though she was a gynoid, he wanted her as comfortable as possible. Since her injury, he had become far more attentive to her and had fallen into the caretaker mode once again, just as he had with his late wife. It was as though she were dying, just as Selene Royce had. Only this time, there was hope; if they could just get to Venus. As he dressed her for bed in a nightshirt, he heard her body wake up.

  “Captain …” Selena spoke, but was convulsed by an electrical pulse caused by the damage to her spine. “… I …” It was no use. She could not get the words out.

  Kendrick lay down next to her and pulled her close. “It’s all right,” he said soothingly as he stroked her hair. “I’m here. Why are you not just in the ship?”

  “I … have grown accustomed to interacting with you in person. I … know that I am damaged, but … I have had my body in sleep mode for two weeks now. I … would like to be in your … presence.”

  Kendrick just nodded and pulled the covers up over her, then sat down on the bed beside her. “I’d like that too.”

  “Captain … Dad …” she began, “I am … I find my existence as … a self … aware gynoid to be very … very … I do not wish for this body to cease functioning.”

  “Don’t worry, Lena,” he said. “We’ll get you fixed. I promise.”

  “Yes … I …” She had a hard time speaking. The damage seemed to be getting worse, which caused Kendrick to wonder if a bullet had been missed. “You always … are kind to me. Very … kind,” she said. “But you still may … have to let … me go.”

  Heather had made the engine room her little kingdom. She had set things up to be just perfect. With the new couplings installed and the hull repaired, the Selene was humming along as though she had just left her slip. Heather had worked on and around ships of one kind or another since she was young. She had grown up around ships, tagging along with her father and learning the trade. She had seen a lot of freighters and a few nicer passenger liners, but nothing like Selene. The idea of people shooting at the Selene and damaging her hull just bothered Heather to no end. And the sabotage that had nearly crippled her was unforgivable.

  Heather had bounced from ship to ship and job to job, careful to keep one step ahead, but she thought she might have to make this one permanent. The young mechanic finally felt appreciated and like she finally had friends. She smiled at the thought as she opened her prepackaged breakfast. Her happy thoughts were interrupted when the intercom chimed.

  “Heather, you awake?” It was Captain Royce.

  “Hey, Captain. I was just about to eat.”

  “Good,” he replied. “I’m gonna need you for a few minutes here.”

  “On the bridge?”

  “No. In the engine room where you are. I’m about to initiate a burn. A maximum burn for longer than I’ve ever held one. I need your eyes on things down there while we do this. If I need to cut it short, I need to know immediately.”

  “Yes, Sir.” Puzzled, Heather added, “Sir, this is a sudden … change of pace. Anything I should know?”

  “Yeah, we’re being chased.”

  “Good reason,” said Heather with a shrug. It was not her place to make such decisions. Moreover, she was curious to see if he could actually break his own speed records. “Say the word, Captain. When are we starting the burn?”

  “Now.”

  Suddenly, the quiet ship roared to life as Kendrick initiated a maximum burn. As he held the burn for a full ten minutes, the ship began to creak and groan.

  “How we doing?”

  “So far, so good, Sir,” shouted Heather over the roar of the engines, “but I don’t think she can hold it too much longer. I don’t think she’s designed for that amount of stress for that long.”

  “She ain’t,” replied Kendrick, but he still maintained the burn. Five more minutes went by and now, the ship protested more loudly.

  “How’re we lookin?”

  “Engines look good,” shouted Heather over the engines. “But I don’t like the sounds I’m hearing from the hull.”

  “Yeah, me neither.” Sti
ll he held the burn for another full five minutes; twenty minutes in total at maximum burn. Heather worried that he would damage other systems and possibly the hull, but the engines began to quiet as he eased back on the power. Then, there was silence.

  “How’re we looking?”

  “Amazingly,” she gasped, finally able to communicate without shouting, “We look good.”

  “Good,” replied Kendrick. “Glad we topped off the fuel at Atlas; we’ll do this again more than once. Royce out.”

  Mister Tanaka looked very alarmed as he hurriedly entered the bridge, propelling himself through the weightless air as fast as he could with the hallway’s handles. Out of breath, he grabbed onto his seat and pulled himself into place.

  “What the hell just happened? Are we under attack?”

  “Somethin’ like that,” replied Kendrick. “I’ve got it under control, so you can kick back and relax. May as well; we’ll be together for the next three months. There ain’t no stops between here and Mars. All wel have to do, apart from maintaining course, is get along with each other. Fortunately, I got a whole library of programs and movies on the public drives; now that we’re on the run, I ain’t got the interwebs no more.”

  “Don’t you need me here on the bridge?”

  “I don’t need anyone on the bridge,” the captain said. “Remember? I ran this baby all by my lonesome until about two months ago.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Tanaka said sheepishly. “I forgot about that.”

  “No worries,” assured the captain. “Go back to bed; I’ve got it covered up here.”

  Tanaka exited, leaving Kendrick alone on the bridge.

  It had been three weeks since leaving Atlas Station and the voyage was going smooth so far, the captain’s initiation of the sudden burn the only thing standing out. Kendrick had his reasons, but at this point, none of the crew needed to know; they would find out soon enough as far as he was concerned.