“Weapons are charging, Captain,” said Misha. “I have no controls.”
“Daemon, stand down!” yelled Omandi, and she watched as its red eyes focused on her, for a second, then the entire face split apart and reformed. “I said stand down. You will never execute any action without my confirmation. Acknowledge.”
“Mission prime directive takes precedence,” it replied.
Charlotte gritted her teeth and tried to stand, but both the chair’s restraints and oppressive gravity made that impossible. She stared at the AI’s glowing eyes and said, “Contrast command sequence priority for Omandi and Howard prime directive.”
The face broke apart, reformed, then said, “Parity.”
“When faced with parity, I fucking win, daemon. Now execute my order.”
“I have no instructions on how to resolve parity conflicts,” it said.
“In the absence of such instructions, you are to follow my orders,” said Charlotte.
“That is correct.”
“Then follow them. Return fire control to my security officer. Restructure all future conflicts, that may ever occur, to be subordinated to my orders. Execute!”
The daemon stared at her, for what felt like an eternity, then said, “Understood. Executing global Omandi override. All future conditions subordinated.”
“I have control,” said Misha “I also still have the daemon’s firing solutions.”
“How much time?” called Omandi
“Thirty-seconds until railgun sequence was set to fire.”
Charlotte took a deep breath and felt her world slow. “Coleman, give me the nuclear fallout ramifications of the daemon’s proposed solution.”
The hologram walked casually toward her while rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “Each missile contains multiple warheads with a combined energy output of one-hundred megatons. It is unlikely we will disable them all. Even if we do, the resulting radiation from non-detonation would be catastrophic for all sea life in this area, while increasing human cancers in coastal areas. The most likely scenario is that if we disable one missile the others will detonate, thus creating nuclear fallout that will kill hundreds of thousands. If one or more of the missiles struck Bladerunner’s shields, the same will occur but with the increased risk of ship damage.”
“How fast would we need to accelerate to disrupt their target locks?” asked Charlotte, and felt the weight of her crew’s eyes fall upon her.
“About twelve thousand meters per second,” replied Coleman, “but you would need to achieve that velocity within forty-five seconds to defeat the missiles’ tracking systems.”
“I can do that,” said James. “I may lose my breakfast, and my balls will turn into pancakes, but I can do that.”
“How many gees? asked Charlotte.
“9.06-gees, sir,” replied Damien, and Coleman gave the android a sideways glance, but then nodded in agreement. Damien continued, “I’m not sure what would happen to me, but it is highly unlikely the rest of our crew would remain conscious.”
“I can help with that,” said Rick, and tendrils of golden mist extended from his chest to waver near him.
Charlotte looked over, in surprise, but then asked, “What about Karishma?”
Carpenter frowned, and shook his head, when the young engineer’s voice filled the room. “I’ll probably pass out,” she said nonplussed. “It shouldn’t be for very long though, and I’m in a crash-couch. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. Just don’t blow up my ship while I’m out.”
Charlotte felt her temples pulse, as dozens of scenarios flashed through her mind, with ever increasing rapidity.
“Fifteen-seconds,” said Misha.
James spun his chair around and locked eyes with Omandi. “Charlotte,” he said, “I can do this. Let me do this.”
“Captain?” asked Chao softly.
She ground her teeth, then said with crisp determination, “I won’t turn all of Earth against us by killing thousands in a nuclear disaster, especially when it might cripple this ship and then doom everyone else. If our pilot says he can get us through this shit storm, so be it.”
James gave her a curt nod, spun to face forward, and his hands blurred across the controls, as he called out to Misha, “I’m going to steal your line, love. Here we go…hitch your tits and grab your balls boys and girls, it’s time to peel the paint.”
“That’s not my line, you idiot,” said Misha, “I stole it from Bobby Drape—” Sokolov’s voice fell off into a grunt as the air left her body.
Bladerunner vibrated. Charlotte felt as if her insides were liquifying. Darkness began to close in from the edges of her vision then was pushed back. Glowing lines of moving particles connected Richard to every member of the crew but Annchi.
“Missile one transition point in four-seconds,” said Coleman, and the ship lurched violently to the left. “Missile two transition point in…” again the ship lurched, this time pitching upward. “Missile three transition point in…” and the Bladerunner seemed to roll sideways then pivot aft-ward. Coleman blinked several times, then said, “Remarkable. The Bladerunner has transitioned past all three missiles.”
James tried to whoop, but only managed a strangled cough, then a second later the oppressive weight lifted. Everyone gave a collective sigh and Charlotte said, “Scan for nuclear detonations.”
“None detected, sir,” said Damien, “Without target locks, all three missiles struck the volcanic tubes we exited without detonating.”
“We have cleared the atmosphere,” said James
“Detecting targeting lasers from Luna,” said Misha.
Charlotte let out a sigh that ended in a rumble, “Well, fuck these guys,” she said, “Karishma, you with us?”
“I’m here sir,” she said, “just got a headache is all.”
“Good, I want to get us out of this crappy neighborhood. Deploy gravity drive and accelerate to zero point two-five light.”
“Aye, sir. Zero point two-five. Drive running.”
“I’ve got the helm,” said James. “Where we going, Cap?”
Charlotte almost felt guilty as she smirked at Chao. He stared back, his brow furrowing in confusion, as she said, “In honor of your navigational expertise, James. Please take us toward…Uranus.”
Silence washed over the command deck and when it broke, so did the tension that had been pressing down on them as hard as acceleration gravity had been minutes before.
The room rang with laughter as Bladerunner leaped forward and stars began to take on a bluish tint.
Chapter 44
The Omega Resolution
“Captain,” said Linnea, “we are receiving a narrow-beam laser communication.” She noticed everyone staring at her then shook her head. “Sorry, no, it’s from Earth.”
Charlotte heard Chao let out a breath. She smiled at him, rose, and said, “Yeah, my stomach did flips too.” Omandi turned to Damien and asked, “Anything?”
“Nothing yet, sir,” he replied evenly, “but I’ve really just started and have about eighty percent of the search grid left to scan. I’d estimate at least four more hours before we reach the median chance of detecting Nerr’ath’s pod.” He paused, then added, “assuming it still survives.”
“Well, if it hasn’t survived,” said Charlotte, “we sure as hell have gone to a lot of trouble for nothing.” She squeezed his shoulder in passing, then fake whispered, “It’s there, Lt. Smith, you just need to find it.” He nodded and turned back to his console. Charlotte leaned over Linnea’s shoulder to stare at hers. “What do our fellow Earthlings have to say?” she asked.
“It looks to be a video stream,” replied the communications officer, “but I haven’t uncompressed anything beyond the header information yet, because it’s tagged as Omandi-Private.”
Charlotte snickered. “Really, how nice of them to decide for me what I should keep from my crew.” Omandi stood, and her voice projected across the command deck. “Everyone, we have a super-secret, my-eyes
-only, communication from Earth.” She paused and glanced down at Linnea. “Do we know who from?”
Sorenson shook her head, “Not specifically, but the header did indicate UNSC, so I assume it’s from some, or all, of the United Nations Security Council.”
Omandi nodded, then said, “So, there you have it, I’ve got a private message I need to take from Earth’s U.N. That’s the same U.N. which I presume also tried to kill us all less than three hours ago. I’ll just go take that call now…by myself…because that’s what they wanted.”
Charlotte stared out the massive crystalline aluminum window that took up one entire end of the command-conference room. She inhaled deeply and her eyes swept the star field, then settled on Jupiter. She held up one hand and extended her thumb. It just barely covered the planet. Seconds later, edges of the gas giant again became visible, having grown in size. “Damien,” she called into the air, “what’s our speed?”
He responded immediately. “We are at zero-point-two-five light, per your orders.” There was a slight pause then the android added, “technically, that’s our velocity rather than speed, since you also provided Bladerunner a specific vector.”
Charlotte felt a smile spread across her face. “Vector, not speed. Got it. Thank you, Damien, I’ll try to keep that in mind.”
“No problem, sir. Did you have a heading change in mind?”
“No, I was just waiting for the response from Earth. What’s the transmission delay now?”
“About thirty-five minutes, but that will grow to forty-three assuming you still plan for us to perform several Jovian orbits.”
“That’s still the plan, Damien. I want to do close examination of the four primary moons.”
“Very good, sir” replied the android, “I believe James should be done with the necessary navigational calculations, shortly.”
“I’ll check with him,” she replied, and turned from the window to look down the polished wood of the conference table.
“How are those calculations coming, Lieutenant?” she asked.
James looked up from the rectangular display that angled toward him from his seat at the table. He said, “Laying them in now, Captain. We’re doing Europa first, then Callisto, Io, and Ganymede. You cool with that sequence?” Charlotte nodded, and the pilot gave his screen a final tap. “All laid in. Course adjustments will be applied automatically as we get closer, but I could return to the pilot's station and keep my hand on the stick if you’d prefer.“ He stared at her a second then said, “If you don’t mind though, I’d rather stay here. Those U.N. bastards certainly wanted you to keep their initial message from us, and I’d like to see their response to how you handled it. Besides, the first navigational adjustments won't execute for almost an hour.”
Charlotte smiled. “Of course, James. You are welcome to stay, all of you are. I wanted to make a point of transmitting my,” she made air quotes, “private message with everyone clearly visible around the table. That said, if you have something critical requiring your attention, or just want a quick lay-down before Jupiter, please feel free to—”
“Hell no, I'm staying,” snorted Misha, “I want to see their stupid faces.” She tapped her own display screen. “From a tactical perspective, I’m keeping an eye on things from here. Unless something jumps out from one of Karishma’s magic gates and start shooting at us, I’m good.”
“Earth transmission received,” said Linnea. “Decompressing now.”
Charlotte settled in her seat at the conference table’s head and noticed Chao’s eyes on her. She arched a brow and he said, “Their response to our previous message should be…interesting.”
Omandi leaned close to her first officer and whispered, “Fuck them. They ordered me to keep my crew in the dark, then ordered me to turn our ship over to them.” She straightened, frowned, then leaned toward him again, “and that was after they tried to kill all of us. Have I mentioned that they should go fuck themselves?”
He whispered back, “I do believe both that sentiment and exact phraseology was included in your initial response to their message, sir.”
“Excellent,” she said smiling, “I would hate for that to have been lost in translation somewhere.”
Chao snickered, as he continued to keep his voice low. “I think that would be almost impossible. However, unlike you, I couldn’t sleep last night and did a bit of reading on your religion. I’m fairly certain, your use of profanity is frowned upon.”
Charlotte smirked at her first officer. “Chao, when you stop referring to God as an invisible sky-man, then you may offer a critique on the many areas where I am in need of spiritual improvement.”
“Fair enough, Captain,” he said with a laugh.
“Message decrypted,” said Linnea. “It’s not very long. Only about seven minutes. Captain are you sure you still want all of us to—”
“One crew,” said Omandi crisply. “Damien would be here too if he wasn’t understandably focused on finding that pod. Play it.”
The blue and white United Nations logo appeared on a field of black, then faded. Charlotte saw the look of surprise on her crew’s face and knew it was mirrored by her own expression. Instead of the U.N. Security Council’s five leaders sitting around their imposingly large table, Omandi and her crew were greeted by a small bespectacled man sitting behind an ornately carved desk.
He smiled into the camera and managed to convey a sense of genuine warmth across the several hundred million miles that separated them. The man removed his glasses and wiped the lenses in a rhythmic fashion that spoke of both ritual and familiarity. Everyone in the room recognized the man immediately, but he replaced his glasses and introduced himself nonetheless.
“Good morning, Captain Omandi. I am Secretary General Oliver Campbell” he said in what Charlotte knew to be a thick New Zealand accent. He smiled, then glanced to something off camera. “At least,” Campbell continued, “it’s morning here…3:17 in the morning, New York time to be more precise, and well past my bedtime.”
“You may be wondering why I am addressing you directly, and given the time delay, please forgive me, in advance, for trying to anticipate your responses.” He leaned back in his thick leather chair and it creaked as he did so. “It seems, Captain, that you have offended the members of our illustrious Security Council to the point that they are no longer willing to deal with you directly. Based on what I have learned about you in recent days, I am quite sure this was done by design rather than serendipity.”
He waved a hand at whatever camera was recording and said, “Now, I could be wrong of course, but given your invitation that the five various presidents and prime ministers should—” he glanced down as if reading notes, then said, “—go fuck themselves while you and yours saved their sorry asses using a spacecraft they didn’t deserve to wash let alone control, I’m fairly confident in my assessment of your desired outcome.”
His chair creaked again as the Secretary General leaned forward. “Well, Captain, it worked. They left me to deal with you and,” he smiled, “clean up their mess. To that end, please accept my apologies for the unpleasantries that occurred prior to you leaving Earth in that magnificent vessel. I was unaware such attacks were being made against you, however the permanent member’s actions had ramifications that perhaps even you did not anticipate.”
The Secretary General’s image slid to the left, and what looked like a UN resolution appeared to the right. “What you are looking at is UN Resolution Omega-Zero-One. It is the only resolution that cannot be affected by a permanent member’s veto. It also happens to be the only resolution that speaks to the possibility of an extraterrestrially generated human extinction event. It was unanimously passed on December 04th, 2029 and outlines a series of highly unlikely events that would result in temporary global power resting with the U.N. Secretary General’s office, my office, Captain.”
“I won’t go through all those events, but suffice to say every one of them, including multiple warhead launches by at l
east three permanent members, have taken place and Omega-Zero-One is now in affect for ninety days. You may wonder what that means. I know I did. Fortunately, there are instructions.” Campbell held up an envelope that appeared to contain hand written text.
“You probably can’t read the name scrawled across this sixteen year old piece of paper, but it says, Charlotte.” The Secretary General opened the envelope and removed a single sheet of paper, then read from it.
Dear Charlotte,
I knew it would be you. Although we have never met in-person, I am so very proud of you and your crew. If you are hearing these words, it means you must have escaped the surly bounds of earth, and while you may not have touched the face of God, I hope you may yet save those He created.
As I write this, you are only twenty years old and at University, while some of your crew are barely out of diapers. The UN Security Council has just voted to enact a Resolution I named Omega because it occurs at the end of life, as we know it. You may wonder as to the purpose of such a resolution and how it came to be enacted. It’s purpose is simply to grant you time to complete the great adventure, on which you’ve embarked, without your fellow humans continually trying to kill you. The how is equally elegant in its simplicity. Each affirmatively voting member of the 2029 Security Council received a rather prodigious gift from an anonymous source.
So, there you have it, Charlotte Omandi, Captain of the Terran Space Ship, Bladerunner. I have provided a final gift to you and yours. Ninety days in which to both satisfy the Drac’ath’s requirements and help our planet adjust to a reality where humans are no longer the dominant species. Per this resolution, you will need to send someone who is currently on Bladerunner to represent you in all such discussions. I’m sure you will know who to pick when the time comes. For now, I assume you have more pressing matters with which to occupy your time.
Paradigm 2045- Trinity's Children Page 49
