Spinward Fringe Broadcast 7: Framework

by Randolph Lalonde

  “A hundred million? Where?”

  “The Enforcer!” Jake raged. “As a wired hull with consoles she’s worth almost two hundred in salvage. The dead reactors only diminish that by what? Eight million?” Jake gestured towards Stephanie, who seemed to have caught up on that part of the conversation and started taking on a dark expression.

  “Twelve million at the most,” Stephanie said. “And that’s according to current book, before all this Order of Eden crap it would have been worth over four hundred million in salvage.”

  “What does she know?” Jason asked. “You can’t just look that up on some table.”

  “Yes you can,” Ayan said as she entered with Liam Grady close behind. “I’ve been following this from the recovery room.” She was in perfect shape, in a black vacsuit instead of her regular white. “We took access and rights to facilities instead of the bulk of that cash. The terms were for years, not months, and we won’t have to pay fees. You have to calm down and look at things before you start putting my team down.”

  “You’re okay?” Jake said, much of his anger subsiding at seeing her upright and whole.

  “Yes, but you’re not the only one who has reason to be angry here, but I’m keeping it together,” Ayan said. “Keeping it civil.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll track Wheeler down,” Jake said.

  “It has nothing to do with him, you just finish what you were saying and we’ll get to the rest after,” she said calmly, but Jake could tell she was holding something serious back from the flexing of her jaw and her intentionally smooth demeanour.

  “Fact is, we need operating cash,” Jake continued. “Rights to our own comm band without fees, visas, bidding priorities on contracting and the rest are fine, they’re good long term, but even with the cash payment you arranged, we’ll be out of money in less than a year when you consider everything.”

  “Contract work will extend that,” Laura said.

  Ayan shook her head silently.

  Jake continued. “We won’t have the ships to take defence contracts while we’re defending our section of sky for free. Defence contracts are the highest paying, and we’ll be stretched too thin to take anything for months at least, possibly ever.”

  “It’s not for free,” Liam said. “We’re defending a section of Tamber space because we’ve been given sovereignty and our own land mass to go with it.”

  “That’s another mistake,” Jake said, pointing at Liam Grady. “This solar system is right on the frontline, and the rumour is that the core world forces aren’t coming. We have to be ready to leave at a moment’s notice, not pissing off the locals by colonising their back yard.”

  “Our own island,” Jason reminded peevishly.

  “Their island,” Jake said, “given away by an occupying force. That’s how the locals I’ve seen on the ‘net see it, and I can’t disagree. If anyone has ever lived there, you can bet there’s a relative or friend, or maybe even former residents that are going to make a huge stink about you calling it your own and planting a flag. If you’re thinking of starting a nation, you’ll be building it on rotten foundations, and who knows how long that’ll last before the Order of Eden just decides to overrun this entire solar system.”

  “I thought you were looking for a war to lead,” Ayan said quietly. “Or did I misunderstand everything you said before and after you executed two men in front of millions?”

  There was a moment of hesitation, when Jacob was torn between his relief that Ayan was physically well, his sympathy for her most recent ordeal, and the importance of the point he was trying to make. When it ended, he decided he had to finish making his stand as quickly as possible. “We don’t have the resources to stand up to the Order, not even with the Carthans. The only way we’re in this is if we’re mobile, flexible.”

  “Well, you’ll have your wish,” Ayan said, sitting down in a way that suggested surrender. She stopped looking at him, instead focusing on the bare surface of the table in front of her. “The Carthan government has added a final provision to the deal.” She had everyone’s attention, especially Jason’s, who lowered his head into his hands. “We can’t take you or any of your crew in as citizens for the next twenty years. If we offer assistance after the next three days, it has to be in exchange for goods, excluding weaponry, which we won’t be able to trade in either direction. They were very insistent on that detail.”

  “So you’re walking away from the deal?” Jake asked.

  Ayan poured herself a glass of water from a pitcher on the table next to a stack of thin glasses, took a drink and answered, “No.”

  “We can find a way to stay here,” Jake said. “Pay the lease until we get mobile again.”

  “That’s no way to live,” Ayan said. “Not for civilians. Not for soldiers who need rest. They need something to go back to, and for almost everyone who stayed with us, all they have is a cot in a shipping container. Even if we get the Triton back, it won’t be the kind of home most people want. This island could be a refuge, and it’s a once in a century opportunity. You can be mobile, you can draw attention away from the civilians and defence forces we leave behind.”

  “The Triton is a perfect home for these refugees, and most of the ones who stayed have skills, experience,” Jake retorted.

  “It’s a great big target. The only way it stays safe is if it stays away from everything, and I know that’s not where she’ll be if we get her back. Even if and when we do, it won’t be for years.”

  “No, it’ll be a lot sooner,” Jason said, looking at Ashley, who regarded him with a horrified, grief stricken expression. “Stop playing the little girl,” Jason said. “You’re the assassin I was trying to track aboard the Triton.”

  Ashley’s eyes went wide, followed by Stephanie’s. “You’re shitting me,” Stephanie said. “You actually think Ash is some kind of super-assassin? And you actually have the stones to call yourself an intelligence officer?”

  “Ask her what happened to Larry,” Jason replied. “There’s been no trace of him since we left the Triton, and the last eye witness says she shot him.”

  “With a stunner!” Ashley shrieked. “He was coming after me while I had Zoe!”

  “Why? Did he find out who you really were?” Jason pressed.

  Jake couldn’t believe the conclusion Jason Everin came to, and, even after momentarily putting everything he knew about Ashley aside and considering her service aboard the Triton instead, he was sure Jason was dead wrong. Farcically so. He was actually starting to smile when what Ashley said next actually surprised him.

  “Larry was an agent from Citadel,” Ashley shouted back with such ferocity that Jason stepped back. “He locked me inside that room so I could pilot the ship and watch her systems, help our people. When he realised I didn’t trust him even after he gave me master command codes, he got angry. I shot him with a web stunner he was stupid enough to give me! He wasn’t as slag-brained as you are though, telling everyone I’m some kind of assassin!”

  Jason was about to say something, but was interrupted by Ashley’s tear filled, croaking shout, “It’s people like you who kept me from telling anyone I had the codes in the first place! I knew if I told you you’ll sit me down and use me to control the ship, which might have been better than being in a stupid work suit for weeks, but I wasn’t about to enslave myself to you. Oz, Liam, Ayan, or Captain, fine, but I see how you separate people, and don’t care how they feel about what’s going on. You’re worse than the Gamries, and I wasn’t going to find out what being between you and the Triton was like.”

  “Ashley,” Laura started in a sympathetic tone. “Jason wouldn’t do that.”

  “Bullshit!” Ashley burst. “He put us in suits for over a month and made us communicate though a proxy. I’ve never been so miserable, and that’s saying a lot coming from a trophy slave.”

  Jake decided it was time to take control, and took a step towards Ashley.

  She flinched back from him, her lip quivering and her
eyes filled with fear. He stopped and extended a hand to her. “I’m not going to coddle you,” he said. “But you’ll have a home as long as I have a ship.”

  She rushed through the two meters that separated them, ignoring the hand he held out, colliding with his chest instead. Jake couldn’t help but appreciate the irony of letting her cry on his shoulder right after telling her she wasn’t going to be coddled, but let her get it out of her system before asking, “Tell me what you did after leaving the Triton.”

  Ashley looked up at him and brushed the tears from her eyes with a tissue. “Um, I was put into a suit like everyone else, so, um…“

  Jake realised his question was more than a little vague, and they could be in for a long story about isolation and work in a labour suit, so he rephrased, finding patience that surprised even him. “I know you tried to solve our problems with the Triton on your own, I’m just wondering how. We’ll start there.”

  “’Kay.” She said, sliding out from his arms to the rounded seating at the table in the middle of the room. “I tried connecting to the Triton on the first day, and every few hours after that. I never stopped, but it kept on saying that it couldn’t connect. After a couple weeks I started trying Larry, because I thought he might still be on the ship, but I couldn’t get in touch there either. I was sure I’d get caught, especially after someone in a security crew vacsuit saw me the other day.”

  “Yeah, how did that get by you?” Stephanie asked. “You were monitoring all communications through the proxy. You were probably monitoring everything else too, I can’t see you letting anything go.”

  “I saw it,” Jason said. “But the encryption and transmission bouncing made it hard to pin down who it was. I thought it might be Ashley after the first two weeks, but I couldn’t believe it after looking at her extended profile.”

  “Why not?” Ayan asked.

  “She was so ditzy,” he answered, earning glares from several corners of the room. “Care-free is probably a better term.”

  “It is,” Stephanie said sternly, sitting down beside Ashley.

  “I eventually got confirmation, but like she said, there was no response from the Triton until tonight.”

  “Why didn’t you tell us about this right away?” Ayan asked, taking Ashley’s hand from across one end of the table.

  “When I couldn’t get through to the Triton I didn’t think it would help anything, and later I knew I’d get booted from the crew for not telling anyone, so I wanted to connect to the Triton first, so I could at least have a chance at staying on. I kinda didn’t want to connect at all sometimes, because I knew I’d just be a walking control console for the Triton. Whenever someone wanted clearance to do something big aboard, they’d have to make me do it.”

  “Okay, I get that,” Stephanie said, her tone steady and firm. “But you report this stuff. At least tell me about it from now on, right?”

  Ashley nodded.

  “That brings me around to you,” Ayan said, turning towards Jason. “Did you tell anyone that you were tracking encrypted transmissions to the Triton?”

  “He didn’t,” Laura said. “Unless he told someone other than his wife first.”

  “I was still gathering intelligence,” he replied firmly. “Encrypted transmissions can’t tell you much, so it was premature until tonight, when there was a response.”

  “What about before tonight?” Oz asked. “When you were sure you knew who the transmissions came from?”

  “I didn’t feel there was enough information to act on,” Jason insisted.

  “Have you been tracking anything else we need to know about?” Oz asked. “I’m just wondering, because I’ve been running security on the ground for almost seven weeks, and thought I was playing with a full deck the whole time. I think I’d like the rest of the cards now.”

  “I’ve only been tracking one other person,” Jason said.

  “They’ve been transmitting to the Triton, too?” asked Ashley.

  “No, they’ve been having a conversation with the Order of Eden recruitment branch,” Jason said.

  “Jason,” Jacob said, taking a slow breath before finishing his thought. “How long has it been going on?” He took great effort to say in a level tone.

  “Seventeen days,” Jason replied. “He hasn’t provided any critical information yet.”

  “Except for our location,” Jake said. “Which probably led Wheeler in our direction. Tell me you thought this situation through this far, at least.”

  “You don’t put this information out early,” Jason said. “You just don’t, because it gets around before you’ve cultivated enough data to act and your target gets away.”

  “I have enough information to act on, Jason,” Jake said through clenched teeth. “Who is it?”

  “I’m with Jake,” Oz agreed.

  “It’s one of your people, Jake,” Jason replied. “It’s Crewman’s Mate Leland March.”

  “Can I execute him? You already did two,” Stephanie said. “Only fair.”

  Jake couldn’t help but laugh, a hearty, dark kind of laughter that drew wary glances. “Oh no, I have something special planned for him. Let’s get back to the command codes before I go take care of him. You said the Triton replied to you tonight, Ashley. What did it say?”

  “It’s ready to accept my codes, maybe because I’m not transmitting though a proxy disguising who I am, but I have to do it in person so the ship can scan me,” Ashley replied.

  Frost came through the door with Minh-Chu at his side. “They stuck that new shin and foot Iloona made for me before we left the Triton. Creepy as hell, wearing new limbs but-“ he stopped, looked around and took a seat on a bar stool. “Somethin’s up.”

  “Drama, I sense drama,” Minh agreed quietly as he took a seat beside Frost.

  “We’re going back to the Triton,” Stephanie said.

  “She’s going to need some kind of proof that she’s at least been to Earth,” Laura said. “The Carthans won’t believe that she’s a commander even if her code works perfectly.”

  “Can I see your code, Ashley?” Liam asked.

  Ashley called her clearance up on her command and control unit and brought up the hologram. There was a string of hundreds of letters and numbers along with a profile icon of the Triton and other, shorter codes beside it. “This is the code with the ship’s designation, her mission and last communication with Earth,” he said, pointing at one of the shorter codes at the bottom.

  He rubbed his chin and read for a long moment before pointing at the next one above it. “She’s an observer ship. I’ve heard of this.”

  “Until Wheeler stole her?” Jake asked.

  “No, they led him to the ship with bread crumbs that started four sectors away form Earth. The Triton is on mission right now. This type of observer ship is made to be crewed by whoever finds her, and the logs get sent back to Earth. They learn about the state of the galaxy,” Liam said.

  “So it’s like an ant farm,” Oz said. “A great big, mobile, fully armed ant farm.”

  “Not a bad analogy,” Liam said. “I didn’t learn much about what they do with the information they gather from Observer ships, but there’s normally a smaller ship within half a light year. Close enough to activate a kill switch if something goes wrong.” He pointed to a number near the end of one of the codes. “But there’s no assignment here, it’s all zeroes. There’s also no home port, no military branch assignment, and no return date.”

  “Could Wheeler have removed them?” Jake asked.

  “No, this type of code is generated so certain values have to add up to a specific number for verification. If you start changing things without using the calculations that generated it, you get gibberish. The only reason why I can even read it is because I tried to get into the engineering program on Earth.”

  “Did you?” Ayan asked.

  “Not the type I wanted. They let me audit several structural engineering courses. I’m afraid I spent most of my time on Earth l
earning the secrets of meditation and how to teach others how to maintain a healthy state of being. I’ve had a lot of work to do since I joined the crew.”

  “I can imagine,” Jake said. “What about the main number?”

  “The actual command code?” Liam said. “I can see the date here, and that the command code is a match to the Triton’s serial number. She was given command status right before we left the ship. This other identifier at the beginning does a lot for us. This part, where it says ‘SOL03’ tells us that Larry is ranked so highly by whatever Earth military branch he’s a part of that the code reads as if it was given to you on Earth. It’s as if you stood at the Departure monument and got the commission from the Admiralty in person.”

  “He said he was from Citadel,” Ashley said.

  Liam regarded her for a moment before replying, “He told you not to tell anyone about that, I’m guessing.”

  “Um, yeah,” Ashley said quietly. “But I may as well spill all the beans now that the can is open.”

  “Everyone should pretend they never heard the name,” Liam said. “That organisation is a myth, even on Earth. It’s a popular one, mind you. There are some great action movies made about it, lots of great kung-fu, but that’s about all I’ve seen about it.”

  “What do they say about Citadel?” Jason asked.

  “They were the hidden safeguard,” Liam replied, still staring at the raw code with his hands clasped behind his back. “When the new government was finally established about two centuries ago, and the Axiologists agreed to the peace pact at the core of their order, Citadel was the organisation that would make sure it was upheld. They weren’t to get directly involved with politics, or reveal who they are to anyone outside of the organisation. Rumour is, they decided that they needed to send members out into the galaxy so they could have some understanding of humanity beyond the Kuiper belt. In the popular fiction, they warn Earth if there are any impending threats. Invasion, disease, anything that could cause the Sol system harm, they would report it, or stop it personally. Citadel was dissolved over a hundred seventy years ago, if you believe the conventional history.”