by Mark Wandrey
“The computer calls for at least one terahertz of speed, right?”
“With one computer. By spreading out the load, we might make it work using slower machines.”
“How much more complicated will the weapon pathways be?”
“A lot. I’ve had Terry working on it. He says we can do it, and he has data cables to spare. The only real problem is the housing for the four computers. We can either spread them around the weapon and complicate things or cram them all in the stock.” Pip touched his screen, and Minu saw the weapon morph into two new variations. Dispersing the computers spoiled the weapon’s lines without making it too cumbersome. Putting them in the stock doubled the size of that component. She imagined what it would be like to wield the weapon in close quarters combat, and she didn’t like the image.
“Go with the dispersed if we move to testing,” she said. “But that six-month estimate?”
“It may be less.”
“Get help. I don’t care who, I’ll make the arrangements.”
“You got it.”
* * *
At the end of the day her team staggered out one at a time. Like almost every other night, Pip and Minu were the last to leave. She thanked him for working so hard, and he mumbled something about data transfer compatibility and waved good bye. Despite her fatigue and the late hour, she met Cherise for a brief workout. The other girl was in town more often, now that the new food distribution hub in Minsk was up and running. Afterwards, Minu had dinner from the dispenser and a shower before bed. She missed Christian and the time they’d spent together. He’d left for an off-world mission several days earlier, leaving anything more about their feelings unsaid. He was intuitive enough to know it was a risky area of conversation. Still, his profession of love echoed in her ears every night she was alone. She tried to sort out her feelings for him. Do I love him? she asked herself in the darkened billet. Sleep came to her before any sort of answer did.
The next day she went back to work. Minu helped Pip get approval for his outrageous manpower requests. By that afternoon a hundred computer experts from all over Bellatrix began work without knowing what they were working on. The advertisement read, “Contract to assist in computer networking project.” When potential employees contacted Minu’s office, she explained it was a Chosen contract, paid in credits, no questions asked. The contract was results driven; no success, no pay. There was no shortage of takers.
“Come to lunch,” a familiar voice called into her lab. Minu smiled at Dram and followed him out. Once they had their food, Minu asked him what the occasion was. “I wanted a face-to-face to see how things are going. Those requisitions for manpower caught me by surprise. Are they a lead, or desperation?”
“Pip is onto a solution for the computers.”
“Better than the last one?”
“The bots hope so.” Dram smiled and shook his head. As she was explaining, a cafeteria attendant came by and took their empty trays. Minu blinked in surprise; it was the first time she could remember seeing any of the employees in many months.
“Seems like a good idea,” Dram said, pulling Minu back into the discussion.
“How goes the Frontier?”
“That’s another reason I’m here.” Minu put her fork down and took a drink. “We haven’t had so much as a potshot taken at our guys in several days. Right after the Ivan fiasco, there was a big uptick in attacks, and I curtailed most operations in the Frontier. But the Tog insisted we continue some searches related to a secret project for them.” He shrugged and took a bite. Minu was very familiar with their benefactors’ M.O. They liked lots of mystery and little explanation. “When we went back out, there was nothing, no challenges. I even sent a heavily-armed team to a known Rasa hotspot, just out of curiosity.”
“Nothing there, either?”
“No.” Minu pushed her plate away, appetite gone. “Your report of probable Rasa responses under The Law was very detailed, more detailed than we could have ever done with the Concordian network.”
“Thanks.”
“Would you care to explain how you managed that?” Minu mindlessly picked up a carrot stick and munched on it, shaking her head. “Funny thing. A few months ago, not long before your amazing shock rifle design first saw the light of day, I received an official complaint from Z’Kal. Hse says someone hacked the Tog network, very thoroughly and almost maliciously.”
“That’s interesting.”
“Isn’t it? Hse said there was considerable evidence that Malovich Industries did it. So much evidence that it was almost too obvious. I mean, if Victor Malovich had committed a computer crime against the Tog, wouldn’t he have tried to hide it rather than accessing their network using his own personal computer interface?” Minu made a mental note to chastise Pip for being so blatant. “These perpetrators used some handmade bugs that stunned Z’Kal. Hse was so amazed, hse delayed using his best defenses so he could see what the hacker would try next. Don’t know anyone with that sort of talent, do you?”
“Not that I can think of,” she said with a straight face. Lying was a skill Chosen cultivated from the days of their Trials. She trusted and liked Dram, but coming clean would serve no purpose and would likely damage their efforts. “What did the council think of the Law data we gave you?”
He looked at her critically for a moment, and she was afraid he wouldn’t drop the hacking issue. He had to know it was them; by now, half the Chosen probably knew, and the rest likely suspected. He took a bite of his sandwich and continued. “The council ruled out an open declaration of war. Considering what we know of that squatter colony, they would never get permission. If it had been a higher-order species?” Minu shuddered, thinking about what would’ve happened if Ivan had shot up a bunch of T’Chillen or Gulla civilians. Could the Tog have protected them? “Sanctions don’t seem possible, either. It’s easy to offend the Rasa, and we’re not worth much. That just leaves Vendetta.”
“A mini war?” He nodded gravely. “What danger is that to us? No one knows where we are. At least, no one who will talk.”
“There are ways of finding out.”
Minu took a drink. If any of the Rasa were half as brilliant as Pip, it was only a matter of time. “I’d better get back to work.”
* * * * *
Chapter 3
Julast 13th, 518 AE
Science Branch, Chosen Headquarters, Steven’s Pass
Two days after Minu talked to Dram the humans temporarily terminated all off-world operations. To everyone’s surprise, the Tog did not complain. Then, to their horror, all aliens on Bellatrix left or canceled visits. Minu knew things were heating up when she turned on the morning news and saw lines of aliens waiting at the normally inactive Tranquility Portal. They were mostly Tog and Beezer, with a scattering of other species. They were all leaving as fast as they could.
“What’s going on?” Minu asked Pip as she walked into the lab, coffee in hand.
“Last one out is stuck with the bill,” he said. Her whole team was there watching a broadcast on the big wall monitor. Normally she’d protest the abuse of resources; today, it seemed the thing to do. The line at the Tranquility Portal grew steadily smaller. A tight-knit assemblage of Beezer were pressing through, leaving behind the curious human residents and a flock of reporters. Word of the unprecedented events traveled quickly.
“The civil authority has no clue, does it?” Minu asked.
“None,” Pip answered. She knew he’d know. “Most Chosen operations aren’t what you’d call secret. I’ve talked to people about the whole Rasa thing; most of what we do never makes the civilian news. Your beamcaster was news because it cost them money. This? Please. The average idiot won’t care until we have a real war on our hands. Dead and dying Chosen are only good for human interest pieces published during Founders’ Day celebrations.”
Minu nodded and watched a talking head hypothesizing about the reason for the sudden departure. Had a rare disease broken out on the world, and no one infor
med the people? One moron from New Jerusalem suggested Bellatrix was about to be destroyed, like Earth. Minu hoped that rumor wouldn’t grow wings. Her communicator buzzed, and she answered it.
“Command bunker, ASAP,” Dram ordered, then hung up without waiting for a reply.
Minu headed for the door. “Everyone in full field kits. Stay put until I get back!” she yelled over her shoulder as she ran. As she crossed the building to the secure bunker access, her communicator went off again. “Chosen Alma.”
“It’s me,” Pip’s voice came at her.
“Weren’t my orders clear enough? I have a meeting in the bunker.” She slid to a stop next to a group of waiting Chosen. The indicator over the nearest lift showed a car arriving in ten seconds. “You’ve got ten seconds.”
“Your orders were clear,” he snapped, “but not to Mandi. She wants to go home if there’ll be fighting.”
“She thinks she’ll be safer at her apartment in Chelan?”
“So it would seem.”
Minu asked a man wearing three green stars waiting next to her, “Civilian shuttles to Chelan still running?”
“One leaving in five minutes,” he answered, “and if we’re going on alert, it will be the last.”
“Thanks,” she said and spoke into her communicator. “If she wants to go, fine. Tell her the last shuttle to Chelan leaves in five minutes.”
“If we need to work on weapons, she should be here.”
The floor vibrated and a bell rang, announcing the lift’s arrival. The doors opened with a hiss. “Fuck her,” Minu said, “we’ll be better off without her bitching.”
Minu heard Mandi screaming in the background. Pip must have had her on speaker. “Tell that bitch she can go to hell!” Minu climbed into the car, the thick concrete and metal effectively cutting off any more conversation.
A half hour later Minu took her assigned seat behind Jasmine. She would’ve preferred to sit next to Dram, or even Jacob. Though she’d come to an agreement of sorts with the raven-haired Peninsula woman, there was still no love lost between them. Minu worked in Science, so she sat with Jasmine. The woman turned when Minu came in and spoke. “Are the guns finished?”
“No,” Minu said. “We might be ready to test in a week…”
“Okay,” Jasmine said. She looked resigned. “Keep working on them, no matter what’s going on. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”
“We’ll try.”
“Attention everyone,” Dram’s deep voice boomed. The semicircular command center was as full as she’d ever seen it. At least two hundred Chosen crowded into half that many chairs. Dozens stood along the back wall. The slightly curved wall-length display was on standby, displaying the seldom-seen five-pointed star logo of the Chosen. Each point’s color represented a different branch of service. As she waited, she watched the star rotate slowly on three axes. Once everyone in the room settled down, Dram spoke again. “First Among the Chosen, Jacob Bentley.”
There was polite applause when Jacob entered the room and stood before the rotating logo facing the Chosen. “I’m sure you’re all aware of the Rasa incident ten days ago. As we feared, it was a flash point in our undeclared hostilities.” From a desk he picked up a device similar to a portal control rod and gestured over his shoulder. The logo on the screen disappeared, replaced by an image of the Minsk Portal surrounded by retracted conveyor arms, the handiwork of Cherise and her people. Visible in the scene were a pair of green-star Chosen and numerous civilians, all talking. “What you’re seeing transpired four hours ago,” Jacob said as the scene continued to play out. The portal activated and seemed to surprise all those present. Several of them looked at their wrist watches and consulted tablets, wondering if they’d forgotten a scheduled shipment.
While they tried to figure out who’d activated the portal, a single Rasa jumped through. It wore armor like the kind Minu had seen on GBX2334, only this armor was more ornate, with inlays of precious metal and gems. Several Chosen gasped or shouted in anger when the Rasa raised a hand-weapon and shot the nearest person, one of the Chosen, in the head. Though they weren’t combat-tested scouts, the surviving Chosen rushed the alien while the civilians ran for their lives. He tackled, then disarmed the creature. “Why didn’t it keep shooting?” Minu asked herself out loud. A nearby Chosen turned to her and nodded, acknowledging the validity of her question. Why indeed?
“The Chosen there were unarmed, which turned out to be a good thing. The Rasa’s attack was symbolic, an ancient Concordian ritual announcing the beginning of an armed conflict. The Chosen’s death was a byproduct; the Rasa only needed to cause bloodshed. If we’d properly defended our portal, we’d have neutralized the alien.” The scene changed to the unarmored Rasa, sitting passively and uncomfortably in a human-made chair. Several silver-star Chosen were examining the Rasa’s armor, and Minu could see that Concordian script covered every inch of it. “The armor, like his mission, is ritual. On it is a notice that we are under Vendetta.” Minu took a deep breath that whistled out through her teeth. “It states the dates and conditions of the vendetta. The excellent research provided by Chosen Minu Alma has told us that if we’d killed the messenger, we’d have escalated hostilities.” Minu wished she’d remembered that.
“How the hell were we supposed to know this?” asked one of the only blue-star Chosen in the room. His two stars shone in the dim light, as did the anger on his face. “The damned Tog keep us ignorant, and we’ll kill ourselves by accident someday.”
“It isn’t something ‘young’ species usually encounter,” Jacob answered, a courtesy to one of his branch commanders. “At least, that’s what Z’Kal said before hse left.” As if the attacking Rasa on the screen hadn’t caused enough of an uproar, the latest news surely did. Z’Kal was the gatekeeper to the Tog’s Concordian knowledge, and a sort of liaison to the Tog themselves. If hse left, it meant they were truly alone. “As of now, we believe there are no more aliens on Bellatrix. According to the proclamation on the armor, hostilities will commence within a few hours and continue for five days.”
He had to wait several minutes before the conversations, shouts, and harsh words between the branches of service died down. Minu saw more than one older Chosen staring at her with barely concealed anger, and she knew they likely blamed her for the events leading up to this. Secretly she blamed herself, too.
Eventually Dram regained order, and his boss continued. “We only have two scout teams off-world, both overdue. They may be cut off because of the vendetta. If that’s the case, they’ll wait it out on one of the neutral frontier worlds.” Minu felt a stab of worry for Christian and his team. “Dram is drawing up a duty roster, and my office will begin emailing out assignments shortly. We’re on alert. I know many of you haven’t fired a weapon since training, so I’m creating combat teams centered around our best trained, most experienced combat personnel. Five days might seem like a long time, but we have the upper hand. We’ve shut down all but three portals. One of the operational ones is here and is heavily defended. Combat teams will be leaving for the other two portals in one hour.
“We only have a few hours and a lot to do. Please return to your offices and wait for your assignments.”
“What about the Tog?” someone asked. “Are they going to help?”
“According to the rules of Vendetta, we’re on our own.” The silence that descended on the room was deafening.
* * *
Julast 13th, 518 AE
Science Branch, Chosen Headquarters, Steven’s Pass
Minu returned to her team and briefed them. Pip was busy, having already gotten the details from others who’d attended the meeting. Mandi was gone. Terry and Alijah took it all in stride. The turn of events might have surprised others, but not these four Chosen.
By the time she’d explained the situation, the email with the duty rosters and team assignments had arrived. Her assignment was to keep doing what she was doing. Gregg and Aaron were to keep working with her in weapons development. As
if on cue, the two scouts appeared at the door. They had field kits over their shoulders and carried beamcasters. “This where the fun begins?” Gregg chuckled when he saw the surprised looks on Terry and Alijah’s faces.
“Only in your pants,” Pip said, and they all laughed. Given Terry and Alijah’s limited experience, it made sense that they’d assigned the two scouts to the lab in a combat situation.
“We have portal duty in four hours,” Minu told them, “so let’s get as much as possible done between now and then.”
The time passed, but no attack materialized. Minu helped anyone who asked and tried not to look as nervous as she felt. Aaron and Gregg played cards and joked; the others carried on with their work. Pip got a civilian engineer who hadn’t run away to hide to fill in for Mandi during the alert. Before long, it was their turn on portal duty.
For four hours they were the trip line—the first line of defense, meat shields. They’d placed four heavy beamcasters within view of the active side of the portal, and Minu deployed her people to all the exits. That left her free to move about, and boredom quickly set in. She tried doing some coursework and research, but she couldn’t concentrate. Only Pip seemed unaffected as he continued to work with his tablets while monitoring his assigned beamcaster. Minu wasn’t sure why she’d brought him. If the Rasa attacked, he probably wouldn’t notice.
She walked into the courtyard to look at the portal, running a hand along the pearly iridescent dais. Before she thought about it, she climbed to the top step and sat cross legged on the dais. As she’d done with Jovich months earlier, she stared at the swirling patterns of light and began to let go. Very quickly she found herself floating inside.
This really is like swimming, she thought as she drifted through the ethereal environment. The swirling patterns reminded her of deep-space nebula or distant galaxies viewed through a telescope. They seemed to move of their own volition. She couldn’t feel the air moving. Of course, she couldn’t, there was no wind. It was a dream.
