“Is that safe?” Xon asked.
“The bridge is structurally… umm… secure,” Sivarek said. “We erected an emergency stairway to reach the access hatch on that section. There’s debris, but…”
Cruz, not even listening, had already gently taken Jeremy's hand into her own. He pulled it away… but still rose to follow her.
“Zoom,” he pleaded.
Cruz nodded and smiled. “That's right, lil’ man, let's go zoom...”
#
Much of the debris on the fallen Musashi’s bridge had been cleared away, but it was still a charred ruin. At Cruz’s now-inactive helm console, Jeremy jerked the stick mechanically, while Cruz stood beside him.
“Let's get him!” Cruz encouraged the boy, playing along. “No Corporate dreadnought's gonna scare us, right?”
“Zoom.”
“Dive, let's get him from beneath! Watch out for that missile cluster—whew, that was” close!”
“Zoom.”
“Okay, fire everything! Grazers, missiles—boom! We got him, pull up! But wait, that Corvette's coming up on us, watch out—hey, where ya goin'?”
Jeremy walked away without a glance back, headed towards the open wardroom room.
Reynard stood watching as the boy left. “Reminds me of the Corporate labor class my mom used to tell me about. People chipped and programmed for repetitive tasks, limited communication ability. Somehow, it's worse to think that something like that could happen naturally.”
Cruz sighed. “Jesus, what do you want? I better go after him…”
Reynard just shook his head, as if to show his disappointment with her. “Get your priorities straight, Xue. Play time’s over. It’s time to move the ship.”
33
At the lakeside, Sivarek removed a small ampoule from his uniform. A label read "WARNING: Medical Nanomachines."
He broke the seal and immersed the injector into the water of the lake.
His holo-display showed nanos assembling others from available elements. A counter read: "Nano population: 500 per cc suspension."
The total rose swiftly: 600, 700, then 1000…
Sivarek placed his hands into the water. Through the webbing and cilia on his hands, he could feel the nanos swarming and reproducing in a joyful microscopic orgy.
And he thought that they could feel him in return…. That the empathic link was working.
You’re all machines, happy tiny little machines… And machines are my friends. My family. Your daddy loves you so much, make me proud!
“That's it,” he said aloud, “make more friends for yourselves. Lots and lots of friends. We've got work to do!”
#
The rumble shook the campsite so violently that small pieces of gravel and iron ore rolled about on the ground from the vibrations. The sound was enough to set Brattain’s teeth on edge.
But it’s a good sound…
A sound of hope, right?
The crew, assembled near the lakeside, gazed skyward. A hundred meters off the ground, the battered hulk of the Musashi shuddered slowly toward the lake.
Its shadow passed over Jeremy who, drawing with his crayons, didn’t look up.
But the others all watched intently…
Maybe we shouldn’t have set the campsite up between the ship and the lake. If the ship falls now…
Brattain spoke into her suit’s comm. “Ensign… Xue… How are you doing up there?’
Cruz’s voice sounded nervous. “Flying a destroyer with, like, just a half-broken gravity spike and maneuvering thrusters to move it… Oh, this sooooo much not fun. But just a few hundred meters, then it's bath time. Come on…”
The Musashi, losing altitude, approached the water.
Sivarek glanced up nervously, whispering to himself as if chanting, or praying.
Does he think the ship can hear him from here?
I think he does.
I hope I wasn’t insane to approve this plan…
After some long, tense moments, the shaking ship cleared the land and headed out over the lake. It dropped low enough that it began to plow through the turbid water as it went, spewing up giant plumes of water and creating rough waves that reached the shore.
Finally, the ship stopped moving forward, losing momentum—and simply began to sink.
A moment later, Cruz emerged from an emergency hatch on top, and waved towards the shore.
Brattain waved back, relieved that she’d made it through safely.
Meanwhile, Sivarek eagerly waded forward to his thighs. He placed his filamented hands in the water.
“Okay guys,” he announced, “it's up to us now...”
#
As twilight set in, Sivarek sat cross-legged at the very edge of the lake, his hands submerged. Silvery strands of nanos—billions of them, probably—danced around his hands.
Brattain saw that there were several datapads nearby, and cords ran from the dataports of the pads to the ports on Sivarek’s head.
Meanwhile, Jeremy and Xon sat nearby. The boy seemed content for the moment, absorbed in drawing with crayons, as he so often was.
But Xon’s attention was currently on Sivarek. The doctor held up a pouch of crisis rations: a slurry of high-protein foodstuffs, nutrients, and liquid that was designed for maximum nutrition in extreme situations. He’d popped the attached straw on the packet, and was trying to get the Engineer to ingest some of it.
“You need to eat,” Xon pleaded. “Stefan, your body and mind are being pushed to extremes. You need to fuel them. And you should really have a rest, as well.”
“Can’t stop,” Sivarek replied. Even though he was sitting right there, his voice sounded like it was coming from far away somehow, as if over a comm. “They need me. And those rations taste like eating thermal paste… I’m not hungry, anyway.”
The water near the shore was now white and foamy. Further out, towards the center of the lake where the ship was submerged, it had turned a deep blue—
Almost as blue as Cruz’s hair usually is…
There were silvery tendrils spread out across the water, and in some places these coalesced into rotating, silver wheels of fractal patterns.
“What are those?” Brattain asked.
“They’re spontaneous hubs,” Sivarek explained. “The nanos cluster there, and get new orders, and get reconfigured before they’re sent out again.”
“And all that is enough to rebuild the ship’s hull?”
“Rebuild? Ha!” Sivarek laughed. Brattain couldn’t believe the confidence she heard in his voice now… Mixed with a certain giddiness.
Our usually shy Engineer now sounds like he’s jacked up on stims. But I guess it’s more like he’s jacked in on nanos…
“Rebuilding isn’t the concept. It’s to improve! No ship in the Fleet has a diamond threaded nanoweave hull… But ours will! And the improved psionic amplification will be revolutionary!”
Molokos and his marines had pushed the skeletal ship-frame from the “dead” Valorian vessel into the lake. It had been surprisingly light, according to the Sergeant… Sivarek believed that the frame could be disassembled by the nanos, and the material worked into the refit of the Musashi.
“Right now, I’d just settle for a ship that could get us off the planet,” Brattain told him. “Though I appreciate your efforts.”
Sivarek chuckled again. “Settle? Why settle? Ohhh, wait until you try your new chair, Commander! Neuro-adaptive nanofoam with microcurrent massage… Very comfy! And it has a medical cocoon built in in case of injury, too!”
“Chairs?” Brattain asked. “I thought you were working on the ship’s hull and superstructure?”
Sivarek nodded. “Of course I am. But the nanos have spare cycles, and there’s an unbelievable amount of material that the prior miners dumped into the lake to work with. Not that I’m designing everything myself of course… For the seats, the specs came from the data files for the newer Titan-class destroyers.” He gestured towards one of the datapads.
“I’m just cooking from the recipe book, so to speak.”
“He’s pushing himself very hard,” Xon said, nodding his head towards Sivarek with a concerned expression. “Too hard, I think. This kind of task wasn’t meant to be done without a construction hub and numerous Engineers to supervise. His metabolism is on overdrive, and he’s already lost five percent of his body mass. And I’m worried that his nervous system is overstimulated.”
“Doctor!” Sivarek scolded. “You’re the one always telling people to learn to embrace life. I am living! I was born to do this!”
Xon shook his head. “I just don’t want you to die doing it, Stefan.”
“How long will it take for the process to be complete?” Brattain asked.
“About two days,” Sivarek replied. He sounded almost sad, as if he wished that it would take longer.
“Can you do me a favor, Commander?” Xon asked Brattain. “In an official capacity?”
“What do you need, Doctor?” she asked.
He gestured towards Sivarek. “Order him to eat, now. He treats me like I’m some anxious mother hen hovering over him, but really… He needs food and hydration. He can’t go on much longer without it.”
“Mister Sivarek, you need to have those emergency rations now. That’s an order,” Brattain told the Engineer. “And cooperate with the doctor, do you understand?”
Sivarek nodded. “All right. Though I don’t feel the slightest bit hungry…”
“It’s an order, no excuses.”
Sivarek sighed and allowed the doctor to bring the straw of the ration packet to his lips. The Engineer took a few slurps and wrinkled his face in disgust.
Jeremy kept drawing the whole time. Brattain looked to his pad and saw that he was sketching the patterns of the fractals on the water.
“He’s very good,” she told Xon. “I wouldn’t think a child of that age would be able to draw like that.”
Xon nodded. “The Colonists would say that ‘God gives and God takes away.’ In this case, his talent would probably be seen as proof of that. It’s more likely an accident of his neurology, but…”
Brattain knelt down beside the doctor. “I just hope that we can find his mother on Earth.”
“Based on Seutter’s visions, she’s likely alive.”
“Because the Valorians need pure breeding stock for their gene pool?”
Xon nodded. “Yes. Original genetic material, unmodified from God’s creation. You, Commander, would be of no use to them… Republic citizens are tainted, born from artificial wombs, your DNA manipulated over generations to make you smarter, faster, stronger, and longer lived. You’re unclean to the Valorians. They need old Earth stock.”
“And the Colonists fit that bill?”
“The Colonists aren’t really much different from the Valorians. At least, not in the way that both groups started out. Both left Earth long ago to find freedom and build a new society on the frontier. Both believed that God was on their side. The Colonists shipped themselves off like cargo, frozen in suspended animation in crude sleeper ships; but the ones who survived did so with their personalities and bodies intact.”
“And the Valorians suffered from zero-g exposure during their long voyage in their generation ship?”
Xon sighed. “Yes. Their DNA is still supposedly pure. Though frankly, I expect that exposure to the alien bio-technology the Templars use has done more to alter them than the lack of gravity alone would accomplish. But they believe that their tech is God-given, so they won’t question or even acknowledge such things.”
“But you look human, Doctor… You act more like a Colonial than a Valorian.”
“As I said before, I’m not a Templar. I am genetically ‘pure’ old Earth stock, I suppose. I’m not even sure who my biological parents are, or were… I was raised planetside by caring nursemaids, and then sent to the Colonies. My education focused on the positive side of the Valorian philosophy; perhaps they felt I’d be more of use to them as a spy that way.”
He sighed again. “I suppose it’s freeing to have my secret out, but I still regret lying all of those years.”
Brattain placed a hand on his shoulder. “You are an asset to us, Doctor. I can’t speak for Fleet Command or what will happen in the future, but for myself… I do trust you.”
Xon closed his eyes, and his bearded face bloomed into a peaceful smile. “You almost sound like Captain Kane; may he rest in peace. I think, Commander, that perhaps you are finally learning to trust yourself, as well…”
34
The hill overlooking the lake was actually a slag heap left over from the old mining operations. Against the setting sun, Brattain could see the silhouette of a squat, powerful figure holding two swords, sweeping them around rhythmically in some sort of precise exercise.
Just who I was looking for…
Given his anger earlier, I need to check up on him.
Sergeant Molokos acknowledged her with a nod as she approached up the slope of the hill. “Commander.”
“Practice, Sergeant?”
“Katas,” he explained. “Focus the mind and body. Katana and wakizashi… Two swords, like the ancient samurai used.”
“It's beautiful, like a dance.”
“What it is, is... useless.”
He dropped the swords growled in frustration.
His pale eyes turned to Brattain, and he shook his head. “The Captain made this mean something. It's useless now.”
“His death was hard for you, wasn't it?” she asked.
It was hard for all of us… Like a family losing its father.
He brought us all together, and now, before we could even get started…
“You understand what I did for him?” the marine asked.
She nodded. “I think it's what he would have wanted.”
“I tried to act as he would have. Certainty. No indecision.”
“I know,” she said. “The Void. I read some of his book… The Miyamoto Musashi book, I mean.”
“Yes. He tried to have me memorize the damn thing. Always talking about the Void. It's supposed to be a place beyond thought and feeling. Right action without hesitation. It's also peaceful. Infinite calm.”
“That sounds... very pleasant.”
Molokos shrugged. “I only know what he told me. I've never been there. Just going through the motions.”
“Maybe it's important just to keep going.”
He tilted his big blue head, his pale eyes narrowed, assessing her. “Hmm. You think so?”
“I hope so, since I don't know what else to do.”
“Yeah, I don't either.” Molokos sighed and gave her a wry grin.
Then, unexpectedly, he picked up his twin swords and took up a martial stance again.
“So, we'll carry on, then, Sergeant?”
He nodded solemnly.
Brattain began to leave, but stopped herself and turned back…
“Do you... think you could show me how to do that?” she asked.
He looked at her, his expression unreadable. Then, he slowly nodded and handed her the wakizashi.
“I guess we have the time, huh, Commander?”
35
On the morning of the third day on the moon, Brattain woke up late. The sun was already shining in through the entrance of the shelter.
Getting too lax, she thought. I better check on things. Sivarek’s supposed to be done soon, isn’t he?
She was naked inside her sleeping bag. Although asleep, Cruz was holding her tight, the pilot’s soft hair pressed against Brattain’s chest.
Ours is an odd relationship, she thought. The whole time on this moon has been like a dream. It started as a nightmare with the crash, the Captain’s death. And then Sivarek came up with his crazy plan to resurrect the ship… And no word from the Fleet, nothing else to do but wait here.
Wait and try and stay focused and sane.
Of course, she’d passed some time practicing the sword katas with Molokos and some of the other mar
ines—trying to master techniques called ‘Eagle’s Talon’ and ‘Two Dragons.’ It reminded her of when she’d practiced dance as a little girl long ago… before her military training had absorbed every hour of her life.
She didn’t know if her practice with Molokos would ever result in her becoming an adept swordsman. But it did seem to help her focus—and earned her respect from the gruff Drone Marine.
I understand now why the Captain valued his friendship, she thought.
The Marine Sergeant was a skilled soldier, blunt and straightforward in manner. He didn’t resent being a soldier, but he longed to find the context for his profession: honor, dignity and understanding.
Captain Kane was the perfect teacher for him, Brattain thought. All I can be is a fellow student, fumbling in the darkness, trying to find the same things, my own answers.
She pulled herself out of the sleeping bag, gently nudging Cruz aside. The petite pilot groaned, but didn’t awaken.
Brattain stood, nude, and put on her nanosuit. There were a few crew members walking by outside, but she was no longer overly modest about exposing her body…
Especially not after the noise yesterday afternoon, she thought. I think the whole camp heard me disciplining the little minx.
Cruz had stolen a particular data pad on which Brattain had been monitoring the reconstruction of the ship. She’d comm’d Brattain to come back to the shelter to get it… And when she had, Brattain had found the pilot there, laughing, naked… and presenting her taut backside to Brattain, telling her she’d been very naughty.
Cruz had annoyed her a tiny bit with the childish theft… But she’d had a feeling that giving Cruz what she wanted would help keep her in line.
So she’d administered a kind of… personal… discipline that definitely wasn’t in the regs. When their session was complete, Brattain’s palms were red and burning, and Cruz was crying tears of pained joy. That session had been a catharsis for both of them…
Space Cruiser Musashi: a space opera novel Page 17
