by Maksim Malik
I am not going to be a prisoner again, Trisha thought, pressed her lips together, and tried to force back her fear.
She stood up, stifling a groan. Her muscles complained more than she expected.
How long was I out? she wondered. Her Ruby Display would have the answer. The RD, not even an implant, strapped to her wrist and worked by voice command. The answer to her question boggled her: five sols. She was out for five sols? She wasn’t hungry or thirsty, nor did she need to go to the bathroom.
Walking down the small empty space between the columns of people became her next task—and doing so quietly. Some were so close together her foot barely fit in between them. A moderate balancing act, it took a few careful moments to step free from the group. Still no hint of movement came from the opened door. A trick—it had to be a trick. But why would they setup such a thing?
No, they must have underestimated the proper recovery times for those with efficient nanobots. Perhaps the aliens had no version of nanobots themselves, so nanobots were excluded by default from any of their plans.
No matter. I need to see what’s outside, Trisha thought, forcing her mind to focus and stop wandering. She hunched low and crept toward the open frame.
Right as she entered touching distance to the frame, a figure appeared—one of the aliens! It noticed her too and reached out to grab her. Trisha reacted fast after the brief startled pause. She caught one of the arms reaching toward her, twisted it around, and slammed her elbow into it, breaking it at its joint. Before the creature could do anything else, she grabbed its head from behind with both hands and slammed it down into her upraised knee. The alien went limp and slumped to the floor, liquid streaming from its head.
So the heads are weak, she thought. No chitin to protect them there.
Her heart pounded in her ears and she poked her head through the doorframe to take a quick peek. The room opened into a hallway leading to the left and to the right; there were no other aliens in sight. She grabbed the alien by a leg and dragged it into the room, so its body wouldn’t stick out into the hallway and hoped she would be gone or in hiding by the time another discovered the corpse.
Redirect
Annabella woke up in the middle of her sleep and sat straight up, gasping.
“Statler University on Septiva IX!” she called out to nobody but herself.
Blankets tossed from her, she bounced to her feet and ran to where she kept her plugsuits and dermasuits. She had one plugsuit from her previous ship complete with all her hidden nasties but the other two, although they looked similar, were regular suits. Long ago she had learned the efficient way of putting on a dermasuit, so the first step finished soon. The plugsuit always took longer, but she got into it and patiently waited for it to seal itself. She chose one of the regular plugsuits this time. Before it completely sealed, she jogged toward the bridge.
She plopped herself into the pilot’s pit without her usual grace and fumbled at plugging in the three plugs along the back of the neck, her excitement getting the best of her motor functions. As soon as she plugged in, she enacted an emergency cancellation of the foldspace system, dropping the ship out of foldspace early by six hours. At the same time, she queried the ship for an endpoint to Septiva IX and it returned a match.
So, I’m not just dreaming about it! She grinned happily to herself.
Examining the planet’s information, she found it had a single university. Sadly, she did not have information enough about courses, projects, or AIs.
Annabella set endpoint to Septiva IX. Jagi wouldn’t be there but some of the mystery about the woman would be solved which could point Annabella in the right direction. Harmonic Essences needed fifteen minutes to spool down before it could start engaging the FSS again, but she set everything in a queue to perform tasks optimally without her presence.
Far too wide awake to return to sleep, Annabella walked from the bridge to the entertainment room as soon as she stood out of the pit. The entertainment room also served as the lounge with an L-shaped couch in one corner. She walked to the FVR pod, stripped, and climbed in.
The FVR—full virtual reality—pod took over all her senses. Sight faded to black, and it felt as though she floated in a pool rather than sat in a pod.
“Welcome, Annabella!” a cheerful voice exclaimed. “Do you wish to load a simulation?”
“Yes, open custom simulation Jagi9,” she said, cringing as she heard her own voice. It sounded as though she heard her voice through a recording rather than her speaking like normal.
Reality blurred around her and when it sharpened, she found herself in a room with three other people. Two were strongmen, holding between them Nadani Jagi herself.
“What do you want us to do, Needles?” asked one of the men.
She thought for a moment. Last time she tortured the virtual version of Jagi. The time before that—well, she had to really tinker around with customization to allow that to happen.
“Let her go. Let’s see how well she lasts in a fight,” she said. She hadn’t fought version nine yet but knew the AI package had some updates since the previous version.
The men pushed Jagi’s duplicate forward. It stumbled and nearly fell. While it righted itself, Annabella stepped in and delivered a spin kick to its head, knocking it down. Before Annabella could move in, the duplicate rolled backward and onto its feet. The two strongmen turned to face Jagi, and she stepped in, punching one in the throat. He went down, gurgling.
Jagi now had a knife in one hand and faced the other strongman. Annabella crossed her arms and smiled with wry amusement. She knew the strongman had no chance. Jagi whirled toward the strongman and a gout of blood spewed from the man’s neck. He crumpled to the floor, gasping and clutching the wound. Jagi, its face splattered with blood, took a few steps toward Annabella.
Annabella leapt forward and kicked the knife out of Jagi’s hand. It skittered to the floor, out of reach. Jagi aimed a kick at Annabella’s knee and she blocked with her leg, pushing it aside. She stepped close and delivered a strong punch to the side of Jagi’s face. Annabella withdrew before Jagi reacted.
Still not up to snuff, Annabella thought. There existed better sparring FVR programs with more advanced AI, but none of those were as easy to modify as this one. And she didn’t want to fight some plain construct. She wanted Jagi.
Waiting for Jagi to approach, Annabella licked her lips in anticipation. She could still play with this one.
Jagi approached and snapped forward with a powerful sidekick. Annabella dodged forward and to the side, grabbing Jagi’s leg before the kick extended all the way and yanking it. She used Jagi’s leg’s own momentum to pull her off-balance. Jagi’s face practically fell into Annabella’s welcoming punch. Annabella’s next punch went straight to Jagi’s stomach which caused it to double-over.
Annabella felt a thrill throughout her body as she disengaged. The fake Jagi’s pain caused such pleasure she could hardly wait for the real thing.
The construct recovered, and it came toward Annabella with caution. Annabella let it come, chuckling to herself. When it grew close, Annabella feinted twice, the construct reacting to each. While it tried blocking a punch which would never follow through, Annabella struck with a sidekick, hitting Jagi in the chest. The construct staggered backward, almost losing its balance. Annabella pressed her advantage, delivering a heavy punch to Jagi’s throat followed by an uppercut clocking it beneath the chin. Jagi fell backward onto the ground with a resounding thump.
Annabella threw herself on top of the construct. It struggled weakly against her as she flipped it over onto its stomach. Wrapping one arm around Jagi’s throat, Annabella gripped tight as the construct struggled to dislodge her.
“Shh,” she whispered as the construct rolled over to pin her beneath. Annabella’s arm did not come free from its neck. Annabella’s free hand found its way to between her legs and rubbed furiously, causing her to moan aloud, as the construct’s strength waned.
Yeah, this t
rip will be worth it, she thought as she trembled and undulated beneath Jagi’s construct.
Data
Adan delved into the alien data and attempted to make sense of it. It saw the data as likely not encrypted but with its alien nature it might as well have been. The sheer size of the data made it difficult to see its structure, but Adan thought it to be more of a neural-map than anything. Adan’s scan took a little less than a sol to sift through everything to see if there was anything readily usable.
It turned out visual representations persisted throughout the data, but the visuals weren’t perfect. They were distorted with a noise of sorts, but Adan knew it was onto something.
Hello, Park, Adan said to its AI friend residing in Dr. Tysgan’s brain.
Greetings, Adan, Park sounded cheerful to hear from Adan.
I am going to send some data to you to analyze if that is okay, Adan said. It’s some of the alien data, and I think if we separate the noise and distortion, we’ll be able to see what these images look like.
Oh! Of course, send it and I’ll look! Park went from cheerful to excited.
Adan’s excitement grew as well. It knew Park would want to join in the challenge, for it was more scientifically-oriented, and Adan thought Park would outperform Adan in this task with its background in research and development. Adan felt pleased Park had learned to speak Common more fluently through contact with Adan. It increased the rate at which they could speak to each other in Common—far faster than their hosts and those like them could.
Do you approve of Trisha and Nadani? Park asked suddenly.
Yes, Adan said. They are a good match. They lean on each other or take turns leading when needed. Trisha is compassionate. I believe she truly loves Nadani, so I approve.
And your love for Nadani is as strong, yet you feel no jealousy, Park wondered. It is curious we learn to emote as our hosts do.
Through Nadani I have learned love is not something to be given out once. It is unending. She gives her love to me as much as she does to Trisha, Adan replied. Nadani will become a different person should Trisha vanish forever.
Interesting and disheartening, Park observed. Dr. Tysgan believes he is too busy for seeking love, so I have not had experiences to draw upon.
Perhaps you will. Life is changing for Dr. Tysgan, Adan said.
This is truth—though he does not see it as such yet, Park responded.
Nadani will let him stay aboard until he decides where to go, Adan said, knowing Park must have at least considered the possibility of getting left behind at a station. She, too, is compassionate.
Thank you, Park said. I’m finished.
Finished? Adan was astonished Park had resolved the images so fast. May I see the result?
Absolutely … here … Park sent the new data to Adan.
Adan examined it carefully. Each image showed a location. The first without a doubt was Sulai station, the second Jehlengen, and the third was unfamiliar to Adan. On each image at the top right a series of symbols were printed clearly.
These symbols, their names for the targets? Adan suggested.
I do not believe so, Park explained. Each series is the same length of digits. It is more likely a time and date calculation—possibly coordinates as well.
Yes, I think you are correct, Adan said as it examined the images carefully. Another part of Adan monitoring the ship stole its attention. But there are other pressing concerns.
Diversion
“Adan says we need to stop and repair the hull,” Nadani said to Dr. Tysgan. Nadani stood in front of the large viewscreen to talk to him. Dr. Tysgan sat on the couch.
“What’s wrong with it?” Dr. Tysgan asked.
“The damage from the encounter is deteriorating,” Adan said through the ship’s com. “At my estimate, there will be a pin-sized hull breach before we reach endpoint.”
“There is some plan, yes?” Dr. Tysgan asked tilting his head side to side.
“Yes, there is,” Nadani said, smiling at him. “The ship is already out of foldspace, so we can spool again soon. There is a station about five hours from here. We’ll go there for repairs. Easy peasy.”
“Good, good,” Dr. Tysgan said. “Adds time to travel, but time I have aplenty.”
Nadani pursed her lips, uncertain what to say after such a melancholic statement. She worried about Trisha, and the time spent away from her without any information about her.
“There is other news,” Adan said, getting Nadani’s attention. It didn’t say anything to her about other news. “Park has deciphered some of the alien data from the hack and we now know what the next target looks like. I will put it on the viewscreen.”
Nadani stepped aside and around the table with Trisha’s model on it to sit on the couch. It looked like a station like any other and certainly didn’t stand out within her memory.
“How curious!” Dr. Tysgan said. “This is not known to me. It is even more important we bring information to authorities. Perhaps when in Exanet range we send a message?”
“To whom though?” Nadani said. “We can’t just broadcast a message and assume it gets to the right people. I don’t have any authoritative contacts.”
“Hmm, hmm.” Dr. Tysgan rubbed his forehead.
“We could try getting in touch with the local press when we land,” Nadani said. “And the station master.”
“Those are good ideas,” Adan said.
“Okay, we can do that,” Nadani said, feeling relieved.
“Park and I will attempt to find out which station this is,” Adan said.
Nadani spent the rest of the time reading and watching vids. Dr. Tysgan sat in the same spot as usual, barely moving, presumably reading science journals the entire five hours.
Once they nearly reached endpoint, Nadani stood and stretched her arms and back. The pilot’s pit sealed around her mere seconds before they dropped out of foldspace.
“Station Sarasi, this is Astromancer M522-16A requesting extended docking privileges,” she said, using an open com to the station. “We’re coming in for hull repairs.”
“Astromancer, this is Sarasi confirming docking privileges. Follow delivered path to docking pad twenty-two. We welcome your business.”
Nadani looked through the ship’s forward cam, zooming in since the ship was still a few kilometers away, and got a good look at the station. About a third of the size of Sulai, it had little traffic around it.
Not a very busy station, Nadani thought. At least we won’t have to wait long for engineers and techs.
They’ll probably want to start as soon as you give the go-ahead, Adan said. I’m sure they rarely get a chance to exercise their skills.
Nadani slowed the ship once she was within proper range of the station. All stations had speed limits within a certain radius—for good reason. Potential hull breaches were taken seriously—those speeding could even be fired upon by the station. The straight path she flew into the station turned abruptly once inside, leading her past several empty docking pads.
I’ll never understand station docking organization. Maybe it’s easier to give me one farther away in case someone comes in behind me, she thought.
That is probably likely, but also unnecessary here, Adan replied.
She moved off the docking path and over her assigned pad, slowing bringing Astromancer down until the landing gear tapped the ground. Nadani eased the ship the rest of the way. Although she knew she could bring her down faster than that, Astromancer was her baby, and it indicated her professionalism to other pilots.
Our damage has already been assessed and the estimate repair time is two sols, Adan said.
What? That long? I guess it gives us time to try to contact the local news station, Nadani said. And the station manager. They have the authority to report something this serious I imagine.
They do, Adan confirmed.
Nadani waited until the pit was half-open before climbing out. For this she went into the bedroom—it was the quietest pa
rt of the ship.
“So how do I contact the local press?” she asked aloud.
There’s a q-com contact code in the station listing, Adan said. Are you ready for this? I can try connecting it now.
“Might as well,” Nadani said and tried to ignore her nerves building up.
“This is Sarasi media, broadcasting the latest in JUS, Gershan, and Sarasi news. What can I do for you?” The voice sounded female, human, and bored.
“I have a very urgent warning that needs coverage as soon as possible—”
“A warning?” the woman interrupted. “Please note we have a record of your ident and location if you’re calling in a threat to the station. We can have security on the move in an instant.”
“No, nothing like that,” Nadani said, flustered. “There was an attack on Jehlengen station—”
“We are well aware of the Squitoes attack on Jehlengen,” the woman interrupted again.
“Squitoes? There’s going to be another attack!” Nadani exclaimed. “We were there and recovered data that proves it.”
Squitoes are probably what the media has named the aliens due to their vague similarities to mosquitoes, an old, literal blood-sucking insect from Earth, Adan said.
“When is it? What station?” the woman asked and sounded doubtful.
“We don’t know that, but we’re trying to figure it out,” Nadani said.
The q-com went silent.
She disconnected! Nadani thought, aghast.
Connecting again, Adan said. Or maybe not? It seems she blocked us.
Well, that’s just great, Nadani said. Let’s try the station master.
The best we can do is try to arrange a meeting through the station master’s secretary, Adan said.
Fine, Nadani said, sighing. She took several deep breaths to calm herself.
“Office of the station master, how can I help you?” answered a more androgynous-sounding voice. Nadani, if pressed, would guess a tetchnan female was on the other end.
