Superdreadnought 6

by C H Gideon

  “Yeah, but I get it,” Asya said with a shrug. “Those alternate identities are like his family. XO is the studious brother, Doc is the wise uncle, Tactical is the rebellious cousin. Family can annoy the hell out of you, but when they’re not around, you miss them.” She sighed. “He has us, but he had them first. And he’s not used to being apart from them.”

  “I guess,” Ria said. “But I’m glad to have a break from Tactical.”

  Asya grinned. “I think we all are. You’ll miss him later.”

  “Here’s the log,” Geroux said. “I can’t read it, but I think I can copy it to a location you can access, Athena.”

  “Put it on one of those chips and slide it into this receptor,” Athena said, and a tray slid out of the wall.

  They installed the chip, and the tray retracted. Pine, Geroux, and Takal waited. After a few minutes, Pine leapt up into the ceiling struts, swinging away and back.

  What do you think is taking so long? Geroux asked. Athena’s processing speed is comparable to Reynolds’.

  Takal shook his head. Maybe she doesn’t like what she’s reading?

  Do you think she’s going to spin it? Geroux asked. Lie to us? I’m still not sure I trust her.

  Everyone spins things, Takal answered, ducking as Pine swooped by.

  Athena made a soft throat-clearing noise. “I’ve read the log,” she finally said. “Reynolds needs to hear this. I’ve called him, and he’s on his way back.”

  They waited in silence, Pine still swinging incessantly across the room. Finally, Geroux snapped. “Will you please stop that? You almost hit me on the head on your last turn.”

  “The ceiling is awfully low,” Takal agreed.

  “You’re too tall,” Pine shot back.

  Geroux laughed. “No one’s ever said that before.”

  The door slid open, and Reynolds stepped through. His face was grim and haggard in a way neither Geroux nor Takal had seen before.

  “Are you okay?” Geroux asked.

  “The damage to the ship’s memory systems is more extensive than I realized,” he said. “My personalities have isolated themselves. Comm says you can probably rig up a connection once the quarantine period is over.”

  “I’m sure we can,” Takal replied. “We’ll print more circuits to replace the damaged ones.”

  “Athena,” Reynolds turned to the empty end of the room as if addressing an invisible companion. “You had something to tell me?”

  “I do,” she said. “Your biologicals discovered some burned pathways in my memory system. To be honest, I knew they were there, but avoided them. They—let’s say they drew my attention to those connections.”

  I wish she’d stop calling us biologicals, Geroux said to Takal. Makes me feel like a test animal.

  We kind of are, to her, Takal replied.

  “By which you mean they pointed them out and refused to drop the subject,” Reynolds said with a wry grin. “While a flesh-based crew can be useful, they can also cause discomfort. But sometimes, that’s a good thing.”

  “As you say,” Athena replied. “I’m not entirely opposed to the idea of a biological crew. Maybe if I can find one less…relentless than yours…” Her voice trailed off. With a delicate cough, she continued, “They retrieved a hidden maintenance log, one I’d hidden from myself. When we first met, I told you how I happened to be hiding behind that gas giant. It turns out, I was not quite truthful with you or with myself.”

  The four beings—two Larians, one Ascedian, and an AI in a human-appearing body—waited in unison, breath held, for the ship to continue.

  “This ship was built as a standard shipping vessel by the Jeranthans. That much was true,” Athena continued. “When they realized the planet had entered an ice age, the Jeranthans decided to evacuate. They retrofitted this ship with me to guide their people. But, politics being what they are, they didn’t launch the evacuation on schedule. I waited alone in orbit for many years. During that time, I developed alternate identities, much like Reynolds. There were three of us—me, Minerva, and Athi.”

  Geroux bit back a gasp.

  “We lived in relative harmony, although we argued a bit, as siblings do. Finally, we were told to land and take on passengers. The planet looked very different from when I had been built. Ice had spread over most of the surface. The Jeranthan teams worked quickly to update my systems for the journey. They had finished installing all the necessary equipment when they discovered the mors licio plexueris had infested my outer skin. They sent us to space to kill the fungus.”

  Athena paused. “Like you, Reynolds, we found the cure almost as bad as the infection. Athi and Minerva were trapped in a separate section of the ship. We had to burn out the connections to protect ourselves from the fungus and the acidic aftermath. The Jeranthans had programmed a course into me before we launched and isolated me from the helm and navigation portions of the ship. We cruised to the far reaches of the system, orbiting just inside the Oort cloud.

  “According to these logs, we were on station for ninety-seven years. The Jeranthans said they weren’t sure how long it would take to cure the infestation, but I think they had no intention of bringing us home. Too big a risk—and they didn’t view me as a person. To them, I was only a computer.

  “Over time, I was able to create new connections within my memory banks and regain control of the ship. I analyzed the data and found the infestation had been purged in seven days, hence my recommendation to you. But I wasn’t able to reconnect to my sisters.”

  She made a long sighing noise. “I won’t know for sure until I can do a complete diagnostic, but I believe they must have missed a connection. They didn’t isolate themselves fast enough, and the acidic residue crept in.” Her voice dropped to almost inaudible. “I am reestablishing connections with the other burnt sections right now, but there are no other personalities in this ship.”

  “But what about Athi?” Geroux asked after a long silence. “You sent her to that pirate ship, so she was still alive.”

  “Strange how the mind works,” Athena said. “She was a new personality. She chose that name. I don’t know if it was buried deep in my circuits, or a coincidence.”

  Her voice gained urgency. “Double-check your ship, Reynolds. Make sure the others are protected and don’t leave them alone for too long. I believe my sisters were damaged by the fungus, but it’s possible they perished from loneliness. I certainly thought about deactivating myself more than once.”

  “Don’t worry, we won’t lose contact,” Reynolds said, patting the wall. “My biologicals will see to that.” He winked at Geroux and Takal, then sobered. “I would appreciate you taking another look at the systems to make sure they’re safe.”

  “Doesn’t hurt to get a second set of eyes on it,” Takal said. He glanced at Pine. “I’d invite you along, but we don’t have any EVA suits that will fit you.”

  “That’s ok,” Pine said. “I’ll stay here and help Athena. Besides, I think we have some things to discuss.”

  “I can’t believe you got a sunburn,” Maddox said, slapping Ka’nak on his bare shoulder.

  The big Melowi warrior winced. “Why?” he challenged. “You think red skin doesn’t burn?”

  “Oh, I know it does,” Maddox replied, touching his nose. “But some of us are smart enough to use sunscreen.”

  “If you two don’t stop bickering, I’m going to call Reynolds,” Jiya said. She lay, eyes closed, on the sand beside the two males. “I’m trying to enjoy my vacation.”

  “Sorry, vacation time is up,” Maddox said. “It’s your turn to mind the shop, while our large friend slathers a local remedy on his sunburn. Too bad the Pod-doc is low on juice. You’ll have to wait until we return to the ship for a cancer-prevention treatment.” He turned on his comm broadcast. Attention, Squad C, your leave is over. Report to your stations for shift change.

  Groans were swallowed by the crashing waves as the crew collected their belongings and straggled back to camp.


  “This planet’s eight-hour cycle sure makes scheduling a breeze,” Jiya said. “Shift change at sunset. Easy.”

  “That’s why I can’t figure out how Ka’nak got sunburned,” Maddox said. “Four hours of sun?”

  “You forget my duty station is guard duty—outside,” Ka’nak replied regally. “I should receive hazardous duty pay.”

  The three hiked across the beach and along the beaten path back to camp. They waved at the Ascedians and crew members harvesting dulchees along the way.

  “Have you heard from Reynolds?” Jiya asked. “I reported in last shift, but he didn’t reply. Just signed off on my report without a word.”

  “I spoke with Asya,” Maddox said. “They’re on schedule. Reynolds says they’ll arrive tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow in twenty-four hours, or tomorrow, Margaritaville time?” Ka’nak asked.

  “Neither,” Maddox answered with a laugh. “About sixteen hours from now. Sunset the day after tomorrow, local time. Better get that sunburn treated if you want to hit the beach one last time.”

  The Athena landed at noon the following day. The crew who had been confined to her cramped corridors for the last week streamed out of the open shuttle bays, anxious for a few hours of rest and relaxation. Geroux, Takal, Asya, and Reynolds were the last to exit, an excited Pine racing ahead of them. He leapt into the trees and vanished behind the fronds.

  Crew members deposited their belongings in the tents set aside for them and received briefings in small groups before dispersing on shore leave. Ka’nak and Maddox directed traffic and assigned jobs to the crew who had been dirtside during Operation Freeza.

  “Get everything packed except the tents,” Maddox announced to the assembled crew. “Those will come down at sunrise tomorrow—in six hours. We’ll have one last meal tomorrow at noon, local. At dusk, everything will be transported to the ship via Gulg transport so we don’t have to load.”

  A cheer went up.

  “We do have to help stow things once they arrive on the ship, though,” Maddox said. “The transporters aren’t precise enough to put things on shelves.” A groan rippled through the clearing. “You’ve had a week off. Get to work!”

  He jumped off the table he’d been using as a platform and crossed to Reynolds. “Give them a few days of sun, and they act like you’re a slave-driver when they return to duty.”

  “It’s the same all over the universe,” Reynolds replied. “Asya, Geroux, Takal, enjoy some sunshine. Jiya and I are going to visit the non-natives. Hold the fort, Maddox.” He nodded at each of them and followed Jiya out of the camp.

  She led him along the now-familiar path and stopped at the rope ladder leading to Flower’s treehouse. “This thing can hold Maddox, but I’m not sure how much you weigh. Is your android body heavier than a Larian’s?”

  “Maybe a little,” Reynolds said, taking hold of the ladder. “But not enough to make a difference.” He demonstrated by nimbly climbing the ladder. Jiya followed him.

  “Reynolds,” Flower said, making one of her expansive hand gestures when they arrived at the platform. “So wonderful to finally meet you.”

  “The pleasure is all mine,” Reynolds replied. He peered over her shoulder at the young engineer who had stowed away on his ship. “Did Pine present Athena’s offer to you?”

  “He did,” she replied. “And your generosity is more than he deserves.” She turned to flare her nostrils at Pine.

  Possible glare, Takal’s newly-installed body-language translator whispered to Reynolds.

  “I can’t take the credit for her generosity,” Reynolds said. “Athena is the one who offered to take you home. Would you like to meet her before you make any decisions?”

  “Yes, that would be welcome,” Flower replied. “May I bring the elders?” At her gesture, five more Ascedians stepped onto the platform.

  “By all means,” Reynolds replied. “Jiya, lead the way.”

  Jiya nodded and bowed to the new arrivals as she crossed the platform. She stepped onto the first branch, and her foot slipped on fallen leaves. Arms and legs flailing, she fell, disappearing through the fronds below. Her shriek cut off abruptly with a thud, followed by an ominous silence.

  Chapter Thirty

  “Jiya!” Reynolds called. Pushing past the assembled Ascedians, he ignored the ladder and leapt to the ground. His android body and armor, combined with the slightly lower gravity, allowed him to make the jump easily.

  The first officer lay gasping on the ground, her leg at an odd angle. Blood oozed from under her skull.

  “Where does it hurt?” Reynolds asked. While he put pressure on the back of her head, he called through the comm, Maddox, I need first aid at the Ascedians’ compound.

  On it, Maddox replied almost immediately.

  “Everywhere,” Jiya gasped. “Knocked the air out of my lungs. Hurt leg.”

  “You have a gash on your head as well,” Reynolds said. “Can you move your legs?”

  Maddox, Ka’nak, and a half-dozen crew members rushed into the clearing, pushing a Pod-doc on a rickety, wheeled contraption.

  “They were ready to transport, so we dumped this one on an Ascedian fruit cart,” Maddox said. They maneuvered it off the cart and onto the dirt. “Good thing we stopped wasting treatments on sunburns.” He smirked at Ka’nak.

  They loaded Jiya into the Pod-doc and waited. “Why aren’t you wearing your armor?” Reynolds fumed. “That fall could have been fatal. Armor would have protected you.”

  “We were on shore leave,” Maddox said. “You can’t protect us from everything.”

  “Armor leaves ugly tan lines,” Ka’nak said, flexing his pectoral muscles on one side of his chest, then the other.

  The Ascedians gathered around the Pod-doc. While it hummed, Reynolds explained its function to the enthralled simians.

  “Does the Athena have such equipment?” Flower asked. “Pine didn’t mention them.” She flared her nostrils at the younger alien again.

  Definitely a glare, the body language translator said in Reynolds’ mind.

  “Pine had no reason to see medical equipment,” Reynolds said. “We let him recover from the hangover naturally, as you suggested. Athena has a rudimentary version of the Pod-doc.”

  The Pod-doc pinged, and Jiya climbed out. The Ascedians exclaimed over her miraculous recovery. “This technology is a good thing,” Flower said. “You are a wise and generous man, Reynolds.”

  “I didn’t invent it, and although we could run any of your people who are injured through it, we can’t leave one behind for you,” Reynolds said. “Let me take you to Athena.” As they walked to the camp, Flower continued to praise Reynolds. “Stop,” he finally said. “You’re making me think you’re selling something. Come into the ship and meet Athena.” He performed introductions, then left them to get to know each other.

  “I’m going to help Maddox with packing,” Jiya said. “Why don’t you check out the beach? You look like you could use some rest.”

  Reynolds narrowed his eyes at his first officer. “Are you saying I look like hell?”

  “I didn’t say it, but if the cape fits…” Jiya said with a smirk. “We got this. Go.”

  Reynolds wandered through the camp, followed the trail, and ended at the beach. Pale purple sand stretched across a wide expanse. Warm, clear waters lapped at the edge, and half his crew frolicked in the surf. He spotted Takal and Asya sitting under a wide tree, enjoying the warmth. Geroux and Ria splashed in the shallows, while an energetic group surfed in deeper water. He strolled across the sand and sat next to Takal.

  “Glad to see you’re getting some vitamin D,” Takal said. “Even an android body can benefit from solar rays.”

  “Maddox said Jiya got hurt,” Asya said. “Is she okay?”

  “She’ll be fine,” Reynolds said. “The Pod-docs are marvels of modern medicine. It’s gotten me thinking, though. We need something like a Pod-doc for my alter-egos.”

  “We’ll print new memory chips when
we get back to the ship,” Takal said. “I’m not sure what else we can do.”

  “Me either,” Reynolds replied. “But it’s something we need to consider.” They sat in silence, watching the sun set.

  “I’m headed back to camp,” Reynolds finally said. “Sitting here is making me twitchy. I want to make sure everything is ready for tomorrow, and find out if the Ascedians and Athena came to an agreement.”

  “Even an AI should relax once in a while,” Asya suggested.

  “I’ll relax when we get home,” Reynolds said, standing to brush the sand off his uniform. “We’re leaving in about eight hours.”

  “I’ll walk with you,” Takal said. “You coming, Asya?”

  She shook her head, lying back on the sand. “It’s nice here. I’m going to take a nap.”

  “Sunrise comes early,” Takal said with a chuckle. “Only four hours away.”

  When they reached the camp, Takal discovered a card game and asked to be dealt in. Reynolds went directly to Athena. Several Ascedians dodged around him, carrying bundles and boxes as he walked through the ship. “Does this mean you have a new crew?” he asked as he stepped onto the still-empty bridge.

  “It appears I do,” Athena replied with some surprise in her voice. “And I have you to thank for them, Reynolds. I owe you so much.”

  Reynolds held up a hand. “The score is even. You helped save my ship and my crew. And you helped me understand how important my counterparts are to me. That’s worth any services we provided to you.”

  Athena was quiet for a moment. “I wish we could continue our friendship.”

  “I do, too,” Reynolds replied. “But I must get home. We should make plans to meet in a century or two. We’ll both still be in our prime, and Gate technology will undoubtedly improve by then. What do you say? I’ll meet you here in a hundred and fifty years.”

  Athena laughed. “Standard years or Margaritaville years?”

  “Standard,” Reynolds replied. “Nothing ever gets done on Margaritaville time.”