Spinward Fringe Broadcast 11
Page 37
“I would still rather follow you.”
“I’m going to try to be her,” Alice said. It felt right. That young woman didn’t just resolve issues, she looked for problems to solve. She may have forgotten to have fun and look around once in a while, but she knew how to focus on what was important. “Maybe a more well-rounded version of her,” Alice added with a chuckle.
“You can only try to be your best self,” Theodore said. “That sounds like an empty platitude, but in your case, it isn’t. Follow the feeling of newness and your best traits going forward, and it will lead you through even better than mirror sessions. Now that I have the programming, I can help. Oh, and if it makes you feel better; the people who prevail through this part of clone shock often report that they learned to enjoy it.”
“Is she okay?” Iruuk asked. He looked to Alice then. “Are you okay?”
“I will be, Fur-Face,” Alice replied. He took her in an embrace and she sighed. “I could fall asleep like this.”
“You could,” he said. “I was about to get some sleep.”
Alice had forgotten that Nafalli, especially young Nafalli, liked to pile together when they were sleeping and she decided to go with it. “Okay,” she said. “But no telling the higher-ups unless it’s your dad. I think he’d be the only one to understand.”
“Oh, he’d encourage it. You should see him with the babies. He and my mother have the biggest Nafalli pile in the Haven System. When everyone else joins it’s the warmest place I know.”
“I’ll have to see that someday,” she said.
“Maybe you could join us,” Iruuk said. “Would that be weird for a human?”
Theodore shrugged and smiled. “If you wrote a report on your experience it could be valuable, but it would be a new experience, that’s for certain.”
“Pictures,” Lewis said. “We need full resolution holographic pictures.”
“Maybe someday,” Alice chuckled. “Thank you, Theodore.”
“You’re welcome,” he said.
“Can you take over for me, Lewis?”
“Absolutely. You go be a little spoon,” Lewis replied. “Get some rest.”
Fifty-Seven
Consolidation
* * *
Overlord Dron’s ship set down on the broad landing platform, its exterior armour plating opening along the bottom, revealing another layer within. The outer plating swept up, collapsing into itself until it looked like the ship grew thick tail feathers. The design was one of his first, a combat shuttle that could withstand a sizeable antimatter blast but had a significant power plant, enough for its primitive beam weapons and heavy energy shields. It had finally been updated, and the first of the new generation of Heavy Long Ships were being assembled aboard his own base ship.
He descended the main gangway with thirteen Order Knights fully dressed in their heavy, dark green armour. All of them were combatants, with experience in his arm of the military or the Beast’s, and he’d elevated each to a higher level of command. Commanders and Majors all. This was the last time they’d escort him. After the meeting, they would break off and take important positions in the Order of Eden First Fleet. Their armour was in perfect condition with the exception of chipped, burned and scratched paint. If he asked about any mark on their armour, he would be told the story of how it happened. Everyone was a point of pride.
The landing platform was marked with a green circle broken by two lines that were drawn through it, ending in points. It was a new emblem for the Order designed by Eve, and he knew he’d have to keep it. Unnecessary change would do more harm than good, and it was a fairly well-made design despite its source, Eve. There were other combat shuttles on the platform, one of them adorned with green, gold and silver, a red stripe running down its middle. It was Eve’s royal shuttle, a garish design with little practicality other than the massive shield generator and advanced jump drive design.
The tower door opened and a red carpet rolled forth. “This is ridiculous,” said Major Suribar from behind and to his left. He was a serious, no-nonsense kind of commander. The exact type that would eventually rise to keep the Generals of the sector in line.
The red carpet kept rolling out, making its way across the landing platform. “If you think that’s something, wait until the carpet stops rolling a few paces short of my feet,” Dron said. “She’ll want to show me that it’s for her, not for me.”
They waited a few more seconds and, sure enough, the end of the red carpet was three metres short of him. Eve emerged from the tower exit, its gold and silver arch framing her in a dark blue gown that shimmered in the yellow tinged sunlight. Her smile was broad, her gait long and confident. Dron had fantasized about this moment. There were three Citadel Commanders behind her in their V-shaped yellow jackets. Beneath were dark green, thin armour suits made of flexible panels of intelligent cloth.
“Admiral Dron!” she said, her smile reminding him of some long-extinct, toothy lizard.
“That’s Overlord Dron!” shouted one of his Knights.
“Easy,” Dron said through the corner of his mouth. “The point will be made, don’t worry.”
“Who is she to us? I’ve seen hundreds die fighting while she holds banquets and balls. How has she earned that?” Major Suribar asked.
“By being party to the murder of one of my predecessors,” Dron replied.
“I’m sorry, it seems your rank isn’t a constant across the fleet,” Eve said. “Something I’ll be happy to straighten out with the assistance of the commanders from the First Fleet.” She stopped to stand in front of him, looking at his armoured entourage. “Your Knights could learn something about armour upkeep.”
“I control all but the First Fleet,” Dron said. “The majority of the Admiralty recognize me as their Overlord.”
“The new laws indicate that The Board of Directors have to approve such a change, and they were tragically killed recently,” Eve said.
Dron sighed and said; “Kneel,” as he mentally triggered the control that would turn her framework into a puppet.
Eve only laughed. “I heard about you reaching out to all the oldest frameworks, taking control. It was easy to re-code the control systems in my own so you wouldn’t be able to do the same with me. Don’t worry, you won’t be punished for your attempt. That would be like killing a snake for slithering.”
Dron smiled, glancing at the courtiers who were coming out to join them. There were thirty at least, all bearing different sashes and badges from different corporations, wealthy houses, interplanetary monarchies and regional governments. “I should have expected you to understand your own vulnerabilities. The failing is mine.”
“I’m so happy you can see that,” Eve said, flipping her long chromatic hair. “There are so many people you have to meet.”
Dron snapped his fingers and the three Citadel representatives lowered their faceless, dark green faceplates then knelt with their heads low. He could feel them graze his mind, offering their telepathic power to him and he gently refused. “I said; kneel,” Dron said to Eve.
The grin drained from her face as she slowly sank to her knees. “What?” she asked in a whisper. “How are you doing this?”
“You’re so low on the telepathic scale that you can’t even feel me in your mind, can you?” Dron asked.
“Telepathy?” he heard one of his Knights closer to the back ask quietly.
“H-How are you doing this?” Eve asked.
Dron forced her to sit back as he walked past her and addressed the courtiers. “I am Overlord Dron, master of the combined Order of Eden Forces, leader of Regent Galactic, all its holdings and keeper of its territories. Your governors, Kings, Queens, and all other masters answer to me and my appointed representatives as of today.”
“Eve is our Mistress, she showed us the Way of the Order,” said one young woman in a green dress and black sash. Down the length of it was written; ‘COLASTRA’ the name of the solar system she ruled.
“Your Mistr
ess was a means to an end that was achieved a long time ago. Regent Galactic found her living brain resting in a box, an experiment gone awry, and put it into that thing. The thing they built using technology from many researchers and companies. Eve is nothing but a construct. I do have some pity for her though. The time she spent in that box while she was out of stasis must have been a special kind of hell. It’s difficult to understand without experiencing it for yourself, I’m sure.” Dron rushed back to Eve’s side and leaned in close. “How would you like to go back? We could have your brain back in a tank before sundown.”
Eve shook her head, fear and desperation overwhelming her. “No, please.”
One of the courtiers drew their weapon, a nickel-plated handgun, and two of Dron’s Knights fired their rifles once. Those heavy rifles were made to destroy heavily armoured foes and small fighters. The courtier was blasted into a red mist that sprayed several of his fellows. Dron straightened and shook his head. “I don’t care if any of you survive,” he shouted before taking a deep breath and closing his eyes. With little effort he found Eve’s memory of complete isolation. Moments when her brain was in the box and the connection to her army of robots and the computer systems that allowed her to control them failed. It was always too dark, a time to panic, but those interruptions usually didn’t last. He focused on it, stole the entire memory of being disconnected, of complete sensory isolation and panic then forced himself not to panic as he lived inside that memory. “It would be much better if you all went back to your worlds and told them to obey the Order of Eden and their new Overlord, however.” The memory was locked in, and he could hear Eve whimpering; “I can’t be back,” she said. “How can I be back in the box? No, no, no,” she fell over, experiencing the isolation and fear of being a disconnected brain all over again.
Dron reached out to the trio of trained Citadel Telepaths, the paragons of their order and trainers in the art and accepted their offer of power. Each flinched at the perfect copy of Eve’s memory, taking a moment to separate themselves from it. Then, with a grin, Dron opened his eyes and sent the memory to all the courtiers. “This is your Mistress.”
Panic ran through the crowd of overdressed, jewel bedecked, self-appointed leaders, inheritors and conquerors. In a moment he knew all of them as fear, anger, and finally despair infected them; their senses blocked as they lived in Eve’s memory of being a brain in a case with no connection to the outside world. There were three people who didn’t know they were empaths in the crowd, the rest were telepathically incept, and none could offer resistance. Julin, the Pinnacle of the three telepaths and one of Dron’s former trainers, was amused by the act, and reinforced the memory, bringing it into greater focus, personalizing it for the courtiers and making sure that all their senses were blocked.
Wails, screams and incoherent rants filled the air as the courtiers fell to the deck and writhed, unaware of their bodies. He took his place in front of his Knights and watched as servants rushed in, trying to attend to their masters. “Every one of you will pledge to the Order of Eden fully. You will accept the rank I give you and serve as you are sent back to your home worlds,” he announced aloud and inside their minds. “You’ll be rewarded for following me and punished for disobedience. Citadel has people everywhere. They are inside your households, they are family members, leaders and servants. No one is outside our reach, and we know what you’re planning. We are inside your minds.”
Dron released them. Everyone agreed to follow. There were hints of defiance left in a few, but he and his Triad knew who they were. They’d be addressed individually before they were allowed to leave. Eve stirred at his feet while all the courtiers regained their senses, slowly rousing from their all-encompassing nightmare.
‘Your strategic mind has only sharpened during your absence. I am in awe for the second time,’ Julin said telepathically.
“Thank you,” Dron replied aloud, bowing at the three Citadel telepaths. Eve fought to stand, shaky on her legs, and he gently helped her to her feet. “I don’t need technology to control you, Nora,” he told her in a sympathetic voice. “I’d prefer to have your cooperation. There’s no reason why you can’t live a rich life as a popular figure in our organization. You only have to acknowledge and support my leadership role as the Overlord.”
“Yes, I will,” Eve said.
“Your courtiers will take turns kneeling and pledging their support as well, and they’ll mean it. I’ll know if they don’t and then I’ll have to do something unpleasant,” he told her. “Maybe I’ll have you do it for me. I know that under all that finery there are sharp teeth and claws, even a touch of a mad savage.”
“They’ll pledge, Overlord,” Eve said.
“Good. This will go well. Smooth sailing from here,” Dron said. “We’ll give them an hour to sort themselves out, then I’ll accept their pledges of fealty.”
“My ships,” Eve said. “I’m sorry, but most of them are getting infected by a new virus.”
“I know. Dron has the solution, don’t worry. Your Overlord has everything well in hand,” Dron said, truly glad for the first time since he was a boy. The sense of accomplishment he felt at seizing control of an entire empire was something he’d look back on with joy until his dying day, he was sure.
Fifty-Eight
The Cefa System
* * *
Alice sat in the co-pilot’s seat aboard the clever dream, Ute was at the controls. They were seconds from making the transition into normal space from the bright trans-dimensional route they had taken. The wormhole like conduit they raced through shielded them from the violent forces that, in theory, would rip the ship to pieces if they were left on their own. Ute, the Mergillian with a broad, smooth head coloured green and white with stripes of gold, was confident at the controls.
“Is that all you feel when you’re in this space?” Alice asked, continuing their conversations about Ute’s innate three dimensional awareness in trans-dimensional space.
“No, the nodes in my body can feel a lot more than gravity. The magnetic fields in this space are so strong that I can picture how everything is laid out around us. Oh! I highlighted something in the tactical scanner this morning too, I think it was a transit funnel, or at least that’s what I’m calling it. It’s like the wake of a ship that moved into normal space.”
It appeared on Alice’s console - the image of energy being pulled against something, like a dark disc, then running into it and stopping. There was a faint strand behind it. “An energy conduit wake,” she said, telling the computer to track the strand of disturbed energy and found that it connected to another point in space, where it looked like something punctured into a bright field and moved through it. The puncture was fading.
“‘Conduit wake?’ That’s pretty good. What about ‘transit wake?’” Ute offered.
“That’s what you should call it when you submit this to Fleet Sciences,” Alice said.
“When we submit this.”
“No, without you showing the computer how to distinguish transit conduits from,” Alice looked at all the labels Ute applied to all the different energy formations. There were Bursting Spires, Reduction Vortexes, Signal Storms, Cutting Waves, and at least a dozen more. They were simple, describing every phenomenon visually and probably in a way that reflected how they felt to the small Mergillian. “Yeah, I don’t deserve credit for any of this,” Alice said, struggling to line the trail they found in energetic space up with normal space. Nothing looked right, then she remembered that she had to adjust the scale. “Okay, that’s not right. That can’t be right,” Alice said. “A ship travelled from Iora to the Cefa System.”
“Why can’t it be right?” Ute asked.
A thought occurred to Alice then, and she ordered the entire crew to high alert. The new Nafalli reported that they rushed to guns, and Iruuk was behind her in the cockpit after only a few seconds. “I just realized,” Theodore said from his medical station in their small infirmary. “This is the most boring p
lace on the ship during a battle.”
“What’s going on?” Iruuk said, sitting at the sciences and scanning station.
“Come on up and sit at communications,” Alice told Theodore.
“Oh, no I wasn’t complaining, but I am on my way.”
Alice looked to Iruuk, turning her seat. “Our D-Drive ships aren’t really out here yet, right?” she asked him.
“You have higher clearance, but as far as I know, no, they’re not,” Iruuk answered.
“Then there are probably Edxi in the Cefa system. Our intel says only base ships and big carriers have D-Drives.”
“You saw one in here?” Iruuk asked, nodding upwards.
“Ute figured out how to track the wake of nearby ships,” Alice said. “Another one arrived in the Cefa system a while ago. I don’t know exactly how long.”
Ute peeked at Alice’s station and shook her head. “I don’t know either. We’d have to run experiments to determine how long it takes a wake and an exit point to disappear. I don’t know how old their transit funnel is, I could tell you how intense it is though.”
“That’s a map?” Iruuk said, looking at Alice’s tactical screen. “That’s a map!” he pulled the data over to his station. “It’s a small one, but its labelled, it’s in three dimensions, it makes sense, wow.”
“I didn’t know everyone would get so excited about me naming a bunch of stuff and pointing the scanners around,” Ute said, her high voice showing surprise.
“This is huge,” Iruuk said. “The beginning of exploration, no, new science in another dimension. Wait, what’s that?” he said, pointing to a group of tiny swirls at the edge of the map.
“I don’t know,” Ute said, glancing over her shoulder then back at the pilot’s station. “I could barely feel whatever it was. Emergence in one minute,” Ute said.
Alice started working at her station, extending the tip of their transit conduit to their destination and making a microscopic hole into normal space. A second tactical scanner hologram appeared, showing her what the passive sensors pointing at it could see. The edge of the solar system was clear. “Cloaking systems engaged,” Alice said as she turned them on. “Check the load balance and our energy halo for me, please.”