Sades
Page 1
SADES
A Silver Ships Novel
S. H. JUCHA
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2020 by S. H. Jucha
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
Published by Hannon Books, Inc.
www.scottjucha.com
ISBN: 978-0-9600459-6-9 (e-book)
ISBN: 978-0-9600459-7-6 (softcover)
First Edition: January 2020
Cover Design: Damon Za
Acknowledgments
SADEs is the nineteenth novel in the interwoven series of The Silver Ships and Pyreans, which tell the stories of three Earth colonies.
I wish to extend a special thanks to my independent editor, Joni Wilson, whose efforts enabled the finished product. To my proofreaders, Abiola Streete, Dr. Jan Hamilton, David Melvin, Ron Critchfield, Pat Bailey, Tiffany Crutchfield, and Jeff Penver, I offer my sincere thanks for their support.
Despite the assistance I’ve received from others, all errors are mine.
Glossary
A glossary is located at the end of the book.
CONTENTS
1: Adversary
2: I’m in Charge?
3: Méridien
4: House Brixton
5: Secrets
6: Ready the Fleet
7: Warriors
8: Pimbor
9: Alternate Vector
10: What Now?
11: Ground War
12: The Hunt
13: Talk to Us
14: Come, Stay, Go
15: One Thousand
16: Pyre
17: Pardus, the Archivist
18: Exalted One
19: Outside the Box
20: Shadow Tests
21: Taking Pimbor
22: Pim Society
23: Sand Serpents
24: Tech or No Tech
25: Implants
26: Third Dome
27: Spotter
28: Deliverance
29: The Message
30: The Qualls
31: Final Stand
32: Desperation
33: Parley
34: Jess’s Proposal
35: Leader’s Chaos
36: Belated Request
37: Call the Assembly
38: A New Start
39: What Now?
Glossary
My Books
The Author
1: Adversary
Two travelers spun and looped through an asteroid field in a desperate effort to target and vanquish the other.
Lieutenant Neffess seized an opportunity to cut between two massive chunks of rocks, each one hundreds of times the mass of her ship.
In the course of time, as in millennia, the asteroids would merge under their mutual gravitational forces, as they circled the distant star.
The moment Neffess knew her pursuer lost her ship on telemetry, she looped in a port turn around one rock, taking a vector that angled below the ecliptic. Before she circled half the body’s circumference, she signaled the controller via her implant to reverse course and swing overtop of the asteroid. She hoped to catch her adversary unaware. She waited, but the other traveler never appeared.
Immediately, Neffess shifted position. She orbited her asteroid to take up station below its base, as determined by the ecliptic. Her adversary was clever and had obviously anticipated her maneuvers. Choosing a random series of trajectory changes had only temporarily shaken the attacker off her trail.
Now, pursued and pursuer were blind to each other and waited for the first one to make a mistake.
Neffess reviewed her telemetry. The massive asteroids had cleared the area around them, as they orbited the star. They’d accreted the nearby dust, rocks, and ice. That limited her choices. If she ran for another rock cluster, she’d traverse open space, which would give her adversary an opportunity to target her stern.
Around the far side of the other asteroid, Lieutenant Nata sat tense in her traveler’s pilot seat. Her ploy hadn’t worked. She’d depended on Neffess, who favored starboard turns when pursued, to execute the same maneuver when she passed between the rocks. This time Neffess had changed tactics, which meant Nata wouldn’t be surprising her.
Each lieutenant knew the other waited beyond the opposite hunk of rocky body. In their heads-up displays, they watched chronometers count down. The engagement time limit was one hour.
The naval exercises were an annual contest between newly graduated lieutenants. It was both an exhibition of skills and a contest for honors. Thirty-two pilots had paired off and competed. The winner of each encounter advanced.
Neffess and Nata had swiftly eliminated their competitors. Today was the final pairing. Either Neffess or Nata would own the distinction of the annual’s best fighter pilot.
“Instinctual pilots,” Fleet Admiral Tatia Tachenko commented.
The bridges of the city-ships, Freedom and Our People, were crowded with observers, who watched the mock fight on the holo-vids. The audiences were linked by audio via the ships’ controllers.
“It’s difficult to believe that they’ve just graduated from flight training school,” Rear Admiral Adrianna Plummer commented.
“Their aggressive techniques are a manifestation of their personalities,” Z said. “I approve.”
“My entertaining partner approves of any individual who is reluctant to retreat,” Miranda said sweetly.
Alex Racine, the Omnian co-leader, had chosen to link through the Freedom directly to the travelers’ controllers. He studied the pilots’ seemingly erratic maneuvers, which were designed to confuse. The contest pitted a wild one, a human clone who was rescued from the derelict colony ship New Terra, against a Dischnya. He didn’t have to imagine the human’s raucous laughter or the Dischnya’s excited barks and yips. He could hear them.
The Dischnya nests had voted. It had been an extraordinary shift of power from the queens to the nests. The soma, the entire body of Dischnya, had decided to adopt Omnian personal tech — implants and medical nanites. The queens had held divided opinions, but Queens Nyslara and Homsaff had prevailed to ensure that the entire Dischnya population of Omnia could choose.
Nyslara’s daughter, Neffess, was leading the Dischnya pups into the future. The nests’ old ways were slowly being left behind by these young ones. They’d embraced technical education and training programs that facilitated their ability to enter Omnian society.
A strong element of the Dischnya warrior culture remained. It was epitomized by Queen Homsaff and her warriors, who had been so effective in defeating Artifice, the artificial intelligence (AI) ruler of the federacy.
Z signaled the observers via comm. He’d detected increased biorhythms in the pilots and was warning the audiences of impending actions.
Neffess’s excitement rose. She’d posited where Nata would be stationary. It was a matter of thinking like her friend and how she would have planned her ambush. She couldn’t visualize the orientation of her pursuer’s ship, but then a thought occurred to her, and she realized it didn’t matter. If it hadn’t been for the restriction of Neffess’s helmet, her long tongue would have been lolling outside her muzzle.
Reversing orientation, Neffess slid along the ecliptic, intending to cross to Nata’s asteroid. Her plan was to come at Nata from underneath her ship. That eliminated the concern about which direction Nata’s fighter faced. She was certain that
her friend was oriented parallel to the ecliptic.
Nata knew she couldn’t wait. Neffess was as aggressive a pilot as herself. Neither were fans of defensive strategies. She chose to move. With her traveler above the ecliptic, she circled overtop of the asteroids.
As each traveler crossed the open space between the rocks, telemetry signaled the presence of the other ship. The pilots allowed the controllers to engage. Bows swung to engage, and beams fired at enemies.
“Who won?” Tatia inquired of Z.
Only the SADEs, self-aware digital entities, had the abilities to monitor the encounters. In this case, Z was a SADE who was well-known for his preference of mathematical precision, and he’d been appointed referee for the graduation exercises.
“The contest rules were violated by the interference of controllers,” Z pointed out. He was linked to the Trident warships that were tasked with observing each challenge.
“Did you make a wager, Tatia?” Mickey Brandon, Alex Racine’s chief engineer, teased.
It was known that more than a few credits had been bet on this highly anticipated encounter. As to the expected winner of this final contest, the odds were even. Both Nata and Neffess were thought to be equal to the challenge.
Tatia turned her heavy-worlder body toward Z. Her hands were held at the small of her back, and her countenance was every bit Alex’s fleet commander.
In a calm, but firm tone, Tatia said, “I appreciate your exactness, Z. Now that we’ve been informed that the pilots allowed the controllers to intercede in contravention of naval academy engagement rules, which we know do not reflect combat conditions ... who won?”
Z shared via comms the timing difference between the beam strikes as recorded by the controllers. It wasn’t until the ninth decimal place that the hits differentiated.
“Statistics aside,” Captain Alain de Long, Tatia’s partner, said, “they essentially eliminated each other.”
“I would agree,” Vice Admiral Ellie Thompson added. Her arm was wrapped around the other de Long twin, Étienne.
There was a relaxed atmosphere on the city-ships’ bridges.
“Well, Alex, do we abide by academy rules, statistics, or combat rules?” Tatia asked.
Nine SADEs shared the city-ships’ bridges. They were enjoying the time of peace for the fleets.
“Has anyone ever known me to fight a Dagger or a traveler?” Alex asked. It was a rhetorical question. He’d been many things in the course of his fifty-plus New Terran years, but he’d never been a fighter pilot.
“Of course not,” Alex said, answering his own question. “Therefore, I’m not qualified to judge the outcome. However, I’m curious to know how the challenge has been viewed by others.”
“Cordelia, if you would do me a favor,” Alex requested cordially. “Conduct two votes, the totals of which are never to be revealed. Query all fleet personnel in the admirals’ chains of command from traveler pilot up. Ask them how they judge the outcome. Then query the fleets’ SADEs. Ask them the same question.”
Alex sipped on his drink, and he fondly nuzzled the top of Renée’s hair.
With the aid of SADE comms and human implants, the voting was shortly completed.
“I’m ready, Alex,” Cordelia, Julien’s partner and a fleet rear admiral, said. She wore a cryptic smile. Alex had sealed the vote with his privacy request, and her emotional algorithms were elevated in anticipation of what he might ask of her.
“Is there consensus among the SADEs, Admiral?” Alex asked.
“No, Alex, there isn’t,” Cordelia replied. She’d anticipated his question correctly. His next question was a foregone conclusion.
“Was there consensus among the fleet personnel?” asked Alex, who couldn’t help but grin. He was thoroughly enjoying the moment with his friends — humans, SADEs, and Dischnya. Unfortunately, his Swei Swee friends had no interest in the contests.
“No, Alex, there isn’t,” Cordelia replied. She released the sounds of an ancient symphony’s crescendo to reverberate throughout both bridges.
“There you have it,” Alex said to his audience.
“There you have what?” Mickey asked.
Pia Sabine, the fleet’s chief medical officer and Mickey’s partner, snuggled closer to his heavy body and covered her smirk. She knew who Mickey had wagered on.
Tatia grinned. She could tell by Mickey’s tone that he’d bet on the outcome too, and she was enjoying that someone else was discomfited by the lack of a definitive decision.
Alex’s head came up, and his eyes focused on his audience. “If the best judges of preciseness don’t agree, and those who fight our warships don’t agree, then it seems only fitting to declare the contest a tie,” he said. In his deep voice, which commanded finality, he added, “Fleet Admiral Tachenko, please announce the results.”
“But what about the bets? Those who made them, I mean,” Mickey complained. His question produced laughter and snickers on the bridges.
“Unless someone bet on a tie, I would presume all bets are canceled,” the voice of Rear Admiral Alphons Jagielski was heard over the Freedom’s bridge speakers. He and others, like Fleet Admiral Hector, Trixie, Lydia, and Rear Admiral Adrianna Plummer, were aboard the Our People.
“You presume correctly, Alphons,” Alex said. He sent Renée an image of them walking side by side. In turn, she released his arms, turned, and slipped an arm around his waist. They quietly strolled off the bridge.
“That was an outcome I didn’t see coming,” Vice Admiral Reiko Shimada said. She regarded her partner, Rear Admiral Franz Cohen. “How did you vote?” she asked.
Franz’s booming laughter chased Alex and Renée down the bridge passageway. “No, you’re getting nothing out of me,” he said. “I’m satisfied with the decision of a tie, and I love the way Alex determined it.”
“You’re no fun,” Reiko complained, with a pout.
“Oh, yes, I am, and you know it,” Franz replied.
Reiko was an Earther, and a slender one at that. Her mass wasn’t a challenge to a heavy-worlder body like Franz’s. He wrapped his arms around Reiko’s waist, picked her off the deck, and marched off the bridge.
Alain eyed Tatia and waggled his eyebrows. She burst out in hearty laughter. “I suppose you want me to carry you off the bridge?” she inquired. She received an image of her broad back exiting the bridge. Alain, her Méridien partner, was slung over her shoulder. His head was up, and he was waving goodbye. “Come on, silly,” she said, chuckling. She slipped a hand in his, and they too left.
In short order, the bridge cleared of humans. Six SADEs remained. They were Julien, Cordelia, Z, Miranda, Miriam, and Luther. The same was true of the Our People’s bridge. Hector, Trixie, and Lydia waited.
Hector swiftly processed Julien’s remarks. The conclusion was obvious and singular in nature. It was Hector’s new fleet, which was formed around the Our People, with Ellie Thompson as vice admiral, which would assume responsibility for any issues about Sawa.
The Dischnya queens longed to visit Sawa. It was one planet closer to Omnia’s star, Celus. A decade ago, a small group of Omnians had paid a single visit to the planet, and it hadn’t gone well. Sawa was no longer green. Windstorms swept the surface, increasing in ferocity and strength throughout the day, as the planet’s face rotated to meet the star’s strong rays.
The Sawa soma had retreated from the surface and regressed into fractious tribes, fighting
for the limited resources. The queens used intimidation and force to maintain rule over the nests.
Hector knew Alex hoped Omnia’s Dischnya, whom he loved, would never visit their home world. However, and by necessity, the SADEs were party to the implant communications between the young Dischnya and the wild ones. They knew Alex’s hopes were destined to be dashed.
The emotional algorithms of the three SADEs aboard the Our People elevated. Compliments weren’t coveted by SADEs, but when they originated from Alex, they were appreciated as signs of acceptance by humans.
Miriam sent.
Every SADE in the link, but Cordelia, echoed Z’s thought to Julien. Cordelia didn’t need to communicate her opinion to Julien. He knew it.
As for Julien, he was well aware of the SADEs’ growing desire about this subject. They believed it paramount to know the practices of House Brixton, the Confederation’s business entity that created SADEs.
Without that knowledge, SADEs would always be a stagnant society. They could only create copies, akin to the process that generated the Sisterhood. That wasn’t what the SADEs wanted.
The conversation of these SADEs represented a consensus that Julien should approach Alex to act now to pry the secrets from Brixton.
Julien sent, and the links were closed.
Cordelia and Julien remained alone on the Freedom’s bridge.