by C H Gideon
“Well, what are we waiting for?” Reynolds asked Ria. “Let’s go make some new friends, Ensign Alcott.”
“Yes, sir,” Ria replied, eyes focused on her console and the three-dimensional display of the course the ship was to follow. She eased the Reynolds into the gap between the mass of destroyers. “Setting course based on the coordinates provided.”
“No, that’s not ominous at all,” Asya muttered, staring at the ships surrounding them. Their weapons followed the Reynolds the entire way. She hunched over her console, preparing herself in case something happened.
Jiya leaned close and whispered, “Next time, Asya, please get to the bridge sooner. We need you manning your position before we go into battle.”
Asya readied a retort but let it die on her lips. Jiya wasn’t wrong. The standoff had happened and been resolved while her combat station remained empty. The ship could fight. It didn’t need her.
But she wanted it to. “I am sorry, Jiya. I won’t let it happen again.” Asya nodded once and started running through tactical scenarios, coordinating with Maddox and his strategic combat projections.
“Ready the landing crew, Jiya,” Reynolds ordered. “Don’t want to keep our host waiting.”
Jiya saluted and left the bridge to find the others.
Reynolds watched as they closed on the floating defensive perimeter, smiling appreciatively at its complexity. He had a feeling the trip to Grindlevik 3 would be productive.
“All right, folks,” he called. “We’re off to see the wizard.”
Chapter Two
As the Reynolds drew closer to the space station, Asya felt a shiver dance down her spine.
“That is a hell of a lot of firepower stationed in orbit around a planet,” she noted. “I wonder what their military budget runs them?”
“It does seem a bit excessive,” XO agreed. “Scans aren’t picking up anything planetside that would warrant such a posture. It makes me nervous.”
“Me too,” Asya replied. She drew a deep breath, unable to pull her eyes from the viewscreen. “Tactically, it makes me think we’re being invited into a spider’s web.”
“You think it’s a trap?” Reynolds asked.
“Think? No,” she replied. “It feels suspicious, though.” She pointed out the destroyers that had turned and matched pace with the Reynolds, each ship at a precise distance to maximize the effectiveness of the weapons they carried. “This other AI—”
“Gorad,” Reynolds filled in.
“This Gorad appears to have had a lot of experience with outsiders, or there wouldn’t be a need for such excessive systems. I wonder how often people come to this out-of-the-way planet, and how often Gorad is forced to rise to its defense.”
“That’s a good question,” XO said.
Reynolds nodded, letting everything sink in for a good nanosecond or so, which was a long time for an AI.
“I’ve seen systems similar to this,” Asya told them. “Not exactly, of course, but close. There’s more going on here than simple space defense. No planet needs this much firepower above it unless they’re in the middle of a war or looking to start one.”
“Maybe that is the case,” Reynolds concurred. “They’re engaged with another species, or have been recently, and they’re still on a war footing. That would explain it.”
Maddox rubbed his chin in thought. He wasn’t sure. “In moments, we’ll be past the point of no return. If we have to fight our way out, it’ll get real ugly real fast.”
“Then why let our Trojan Horse through the gate?” XO asked. “It didn’t take a whole lot of smooching ass to get Gorad to open up and let us in. He sure as hell didn’t get anything from our systems when he scanned us.”
“Meaning he can’t know if we’re a friend or enemy,” Asya added. “Given the number of ships he has available to blast us into oblivion, I suspect he’s still making up his mind as to which.”
Reynolds adjusted the viewscreen to see where Gorad was leading them—directly into the middle of the massive ring floating in orbit over Grindlevik 3. That would put them well within range of twenty destroyers by the time they settled, not to mention the ring itself.
“A number of the destroyers have tightened their posture around the ring,” XO warned. “He could hit us with half his fleet if he wanted to.”
“He’s not taking any chances,” Maddox said. “And here we are, now within range of enough firepower that our odds of escape are fifty-fifty.”
Asya cut in. “I don’t like this, but we are now committed.”
“Worst case scenario,” Reynolds questioned, “what are we looking at if things go south?”
“We talking a Slayer song here?” Tactical wondered. “South of Heaven, maybe?”
“I have no idea who that is, but if by south of Heaven you mean Hell, then yeah, that sounds about right,” Asya replied. “I’m betting that defensive ring is equipped with a planetary shield as well as all those guns it’s packing. Add the fifty destroyers, and we’re looking at ending up as floating space dust unless the Reynolds has some last-resort defensive system I don’t know about.”
“We have you,” Tactical told her.
Asya chuckled. “You’re going to need more than that if this Gorad guy decides he wants to take a bite out of our ass.”
“What do you suggest?” Reynolds asked, having already assessed that Gorad would not attack the superdreadnought.
“You have a favorite god?” she proffered with a shrug. “Divine intervention is always a good option to have on call.”
“Deus ex Machina,” XO chimed in. “The choice of sub-par scribes the universe around.”
“If that means what I think it does, then yes, exactly,” Asya returned. “I’d normally say kick-ass railguns are better than an act of God any day, but we’ll need both if Gorad gets it in his AI head that we’re a threat to him,” she said. “I’m not seeing a lot of ways out of this that don’t end up with us splatted like a bug.”
“So much for optimism,” Reynolds complained. “My assessment is that we are dealing with a cautious entity like me. We will be fine, and if not, my bad.”
“Believe me, I hope I’m wrong,” Asya replied. “Maybe Gorad’s an AI with a heart of gold and he doesn’t have any ulterior motives for letting us visit his planet, but I’m not sure any AI can be entirely guileless. No offense, of course.”
“Some taken,” Tactical muttered from the Helm speaker, “meatbag.”
Asya gestured to Tactical’s position. “See what I mean?”
Reynolds let out a mechanical sigh while watching the ship maneuver toward the docking mechanism.
“Get maintenance up here to fix my speaker,” Tactical ordered.
“Belay that, and bugger all. Furl the sails and let her drift to dock.” Chrome Reynolds stood tall, one foot on the pedestal surrounding the captain’s chair, his hands on what passed for his metal hips.
“I suspect Gorad has something in mind, and he’s got the firepower to back up any demands he might choose to make,” she advised, examining the weaponry splayed around the Superdreadnought Reynolds. “Based on my experience, we can’t win a fair fight against these odds.”
“You suggesting we bail already?” Reynolds turned his head one hundred and eighty degrees to assess her claim.
She shook her head. “We’re here for a reason, right?”
Reynolds nodded.
“Then I’d say we follow through and complete the mission.” She stood ramrod-straight in a position of calm confidence. “Still, I’d make sure the ship is on standby at all times, ready to do something drastic if need be.” She pointed to the defensive ring now filling the whole of the viewscreen. “If anything happens, get as close to that thing as possible after taking out the guns directly in front of us. That’d give us some relief from the ring’s weaponry, and maybe buy us a pause from the destroyers. They might not be so willing to engage if there’s a chance they’ll damage their own space station.”
; “You don’t know us AIs very well then,” Reynolds clarified.
“I said ‘maybe,’” she countered. “Gorad could have a better-defined sense of self-preservation than you do.”
“No one is more self-important than Reynolds,” Tactical made sure to point out.
Asya shrugged. “If that were true, we wouldn’t be here now, willfully putting ourselves into range of enough weapons to blow the gravitic shields in a single salvo. I think what would happen after that is self-explanatory.”
“You’re like Rod Serling,” Reynolds mentioned to her blank expression. He shook his head when she missed the reference. “All we need is a creepy soundtrack to go along with your fearmongering.”
The Twilight Zone theme song played over the speakers. Asya ignored it, returning her attention to the tactical display.
Reynolds waved it to silence. “Helm, prepare to dock.” Reynolds switched to ship-wide broadcast. “Jiya, what's the status of the landing crew?”
“Assembled in the hangar bay and standing by.”
“Very well,” Reynolds replied. “Asya, XO—don’t scratch my ship. I’ll be back when I get back.”
He crooked a metal finger at the general, and together, they prepared to leave the bridge.
Reynolds took one last look at the viewscreen. He needed to check the planet to be sure. If there were Kurtherians there, he had to root them out and destroy them. He couldn’t leave the bastards behind to plot against the Federation and its people.
“Shuttle incoming,” XO announced as Ensign Ria settled the Reynolds into the indicated extended berth jutting from the ring. “No lifeforms detected. No sign of weapons or explosive compounds.”
“Good to know Gorad’s not sending us a bomb,” Reynolds snarked.
“I’m sure Jiya and the others appreciate it,” Asya replied.
“I’m thinking Ka’nak might not mind too much.” Maddox chuckled. “He’d love the chance to beat up a bomb.”
“Which says so very much about his mindset.” XO sighed. “Perhaps it might be in our best interests to administer psychological testing before we commit to taking on more crew?”
“What’s the point of that? You and Reynolds wouldn’t pass it even if you had Comm administer it,” Tactical told XO.
“He has a point,” Maddox agreed. “Ria here would likely be the only person left aboard if we tested everyone. Maybe Asya as well, though I have my doubts.”
“I’ve been questioning my sanity ever since I left Loran, Maddox, so you’re probably right,” she told him.
The general grinned and let out a hoarse laugh. “What did Jiya call Reynolds’ issues? Oh yeah, ‘quirks.’”
“Master of the understatement, that one,” Tactical announced.
“Good thing I’m going dirtside with the crew rather than sitting up here with you chosen few—the insane, the inane, and the urbane,” Reynolds told them. “An AI could get his feelings hurt up here.”
“Wouldn’t that make you an EI?” Maddox asked.
The AI sighed. “I don’t think you understand me at all,” he said, feigning a pout. “Asya and XO, you’re in charge while we’re gone.”
“I see how it is,” Tactical muttered darkly.
“Keep me—”
“The ship,” she clarified.
“Keep the ship safe,” he adjusted. “Stay in touch on the comm, and try to keep us on scanners. I don’t want to give in to your pessimism, but you’re right about AIs. You can only trust them about as far as you can throw them.”
“Given that you’re a superdreadnought, that’s saying a lot,” she said.
“Exactly my point,” Reynolds replied, marching off the bridge with Maddox close behind. “Keep us in one piece,” he called before the bridge doors sealed behind them.
They headed toward the hangar bay, but Asya’s warnings had taken root in Reynolds’ head. He wasn’t sufficiently certain about Gorad’s intentions, and that bothered him.
Of course, that wasn’t going to stop his search for Kurtherians or negotiating to establish a safe haven on Grindlevik 3. He had always planned a calculated approach to the alien AI. He was a significant unknown.
His only experience with AIs were those he’d known in the Federation, and they, of course, were motivated and inspired by Bethany Anne and Michael and the others, their loyalty unquestionably to the Federation and its people.
Gorad, however, was a completely different type of entity.
He hadn’t been created by humans, and Reynolds had no idea what his base motivations were. He figured he’d have a better idea once he went dirtside and got a good look at the locals, but that didn’t satisfy his curiosity right then.
But with no risk taken, there would be no gain.
Or some such quaint expression.
Reynolds had to trust that he—the ship—would be up to whatever Gorad might try to test it/him with, and that Asya and the rest of the crew would perform as admirably as he expected them to.
Actually, he admitted to himself, that was more like what he was worried about.
“You big baby,” he muttered to himself.
“What was that?” Maddox asked.
“Oh, nothing,” Reynolds replied, having forgotten the general was with him.
And that was the point of his concern.
It wasn’t just Reynolds any longer. He’d dragged a crew into his madness, and they would suffer were anything to happen along the way.
But wasn’t that what Bethany Anne had told him?
She’d wanted him to have a crew, but he’d never given it much thought until he’d been damaged and needed people to help repair the hull because the bots weren’t capable.
Then he had realized she hadn’t wanted him to get a crew simply because they were useful. They were more than that, which was why Bethany Anne had insisted. That was the wisdom of the Queen.
She didn’t want him to be alone, knowing what isolation had already done to him: split his personality and made him question his own sanity. The more he was around the crew, the more he could feel himself coming back together as one again—as long as that bastard Tactical played along and gave up his independence. That was a battle for a different time.
Reynolds grumbled as he entered the hangar bay’s foyer and saw the crew lined up at the window waiting for the shuttle to arrive.
Jiya stared at him with that stupid grin of hers as if she knew Reynolds had been moping since he’d left the bridge.
He ignored her, not wanting to admit that he had been.
He appraised the rest of the crew at a glance.
Takal Durba was distracted, as he often was. He was making last-minute adjustments to the armored suits the crew were wearing, as he always did.
The guy couldn’t stop tinkering, which was probably a good thing, Reynolds thought. He would be the one to help Reynolds get into a better body, one he didn’t have to worry about wearing down or falling apart during normal, everyday use.
That was what Reynolds wanted.
He’d gotten a taste of freedom in the android forms—even the Jonny-Taxi one, crappy as it had been—and Reynolds had enjoyed it.
As much as he loved being plugged into the superdreadnought, there was something special about being mobile in a vehicle that wasn’t the size of a skyscraper.
Geroux Durba, Takal’s niece and the ship’s resident computer genius, hung out by Jiya, which was also expected.
The two had been friends since long before Reynolds had arrived in their galaxy, and he didn’t expect them to part company just because they were now flying blindly through space in search of Kurtherians to kill.
The last of the crew bounced around in an open area of the hangar bay a short distance from the others. He shadow-boxed relentlessly, although the term simplified the motions the warrior was going through considerably. He used all eight points of contact—fists, elbows, knees, and feet—in his routine.
The male was a master of combat. Built like a tank, and altho
ugh Reynolds hated to say this, about as thick as one, too. Ka’nak had honed his skills in the fighting pits of his world and come out the other side of it scarred and brutal but alive.
Given the uncertainty of their mission, Reynolds was glad to have him along.
He was glad to have all of them. They made a good team.
Together, they’d handle whatever Gorad threw their way.
He went over and stood beside Jiya, looking out the massive window that separated them from where the smaller ships docked around them. Maddox stood at their backs.
The shuttle slipped into the hangar bay with a casual grace that made it clear to Reynolds that Gorad was piloting it. He hadn’t subbed the task to any old automated system.
That was both flattering and disconcerting, but Reynolds could see the reasoning behind it.
Gorad would get firsthand knowledge of the crew and Reynolds as they traveled dirtside, giving the alien AI an advantage in treating with them. He would see their interactions, however unintentional or subconscious, and he’d be able to manipulate circumstances based on those findings.
But in doing so, Gorad had made it clear to Reynolds that, regardless who the crew were going to meet down on the planet, Gorad was in charge. This was his domain, and Reynolds realized he’d better tread lightly around the alien AI to keep from offending him.
Easier said than done, he thought, grinning. At least Tactical wasn’t able to come down to the planet with them. That bastard! He would wreak havoc.
Reynolds would miss his snark.
The shuttle settled in, and the hangar bay pressurized shortly after. The shuttle door eased open. Facing their way, it almost looked like a hand waving for its passengers to come aboard.
Showoff.
“Let’s go, people,” Reynolds said. “Our host is waiting for his first look at the Etheric Federation’s representatives. He wants to see us up close and personal.”
“Hopefully not too personally,” Jiya mumbled. “I didn’t shower today.”
“That’s all?” Ka’nak asked. “I haven’t showered all week.”
