Fixit Adventures Anthology

by Erik Schubach

  “The last scans we got before all the systems were severed, showed the entire satellite network firing their thrusters toward the planet as all the ships in the system started heading out-system on the same course toward Old Earth. Debris clouds were detected around the bases of the other cities. Dr. Germaine was barely able to get a coded burst transmission out toward the rift before we lost power.”

  I felt helpless as I listened. All the satellites gone? Debris clouds? She meant people vented into space from the lower levels of the other cities. And I knew who that coded transmission was intended for, and their existence was probably what had caused all of this. Prime's Dark Fleet. The defensive measure our system was developing in secret to protect us from this exact sort of thing.

  At light speed, the message would have taken two days to get to the Rift Relay transmitters, or Singing Birds. The subspace transmission would be instantaneous from there to wherever the fleet was hiding. Assuming they were in a star system where they could extract resources to aid in construction, the closest they could be to the rift would be two light hours.

  So assuming they could set course for the rift immediately, it would take them a week to get there, then they could rift jump to our system instantly, and it would take another week at full fractional C acceleration with the singularity drives to reach us. Everyone would be long dead in the cities without life support.

  I whispered to myself, “The cities will be floating tombs when they arrive.” My head snapped up in a panic, forgetting I was on an open channel.

  My Sky Guard ranger must have seen this through Flower and said, “Don't worry Vega, this transmission can't be detected. It took Dr. Germaine months just to figure out how your pingers were communicating with each other without using the information grid. It is ingenious really, analog transmissions. They haven't been used for thousands of years with the advent of digital communications. Nobody would ever think to look for such an archaic system.”

  I nodded at that. It didn't surprise me they were using analog transmissions, that is after all, how I am able to wake up my Pingers. The rest of the AI community can't get their thinking out of the binary cloud. Our brains aren't binary, they are analog, and the same channels are used for many purposes.

  So while we don't have the computing power to give them sentience and make them self-aware in a binary world, we can by creating a multichannel system that can make use of the entire sine-wave of a power cycle instead of just the peaks and valleys. Applying this concept to their processing and higher functions, it multiplies the possible pathways by sixty.

  I had to smirk, she wasn't as sure as she tried to sound, she had purposefully spoke vaguely just a bit earlier herself. Or was it her training that stopped her from speaking plainly over a com line?

  I hesitated as an Old Earth epithet came to mind. Shit! Even if the relay satellites were still up there, they were configured for binary packet burst transmission and wouldn't be able to relay this. I looked at the huge chrono over the bay doors through my window to the time. I calculated their orbital path from the last projection I saw on that old traffic system. This meant I'd only be able to receive for only another two hours before their orbit put the planet between us. It would be a few hours before she could contact me again.

  She echoed my thought, “There isn't much time before we lose communications in our orbit.”

  I was nodding, and she continued, “We have minimal life support on New Terra, but we fear the other cities may already be dead.”

  One and a half million people... dead? My mind couldn't comprehend this.

  Then she growled out, “I know woman. Just let me talk to her. She needs to know the score.” Whoever she was talking to, I couldn't hear them. That was odd.

  I brightened at a thought, thinking I knew why they were contacting me. “I get it. You want me to fly up to New Terra once you've settled back in the atmosphere and disengage the shield from below.”

  She was silent for a long eternity that could be counted in the space of three heartbeats, then she said in a lower tone, “No, Fixie. We need you to come to us on orbit and override the drive systems and set up a digital relay to our control systems.”

  I heard myself blurting, “On orbit? Are you crazy? I don't have a vacuum rated tumbril, let alone any extra vehicular spacewalk gear to work in a vacuum myself. Why don't we just wait until...”

  She cut me off. “We can't wait Fixie. Dr. Germaine hacked into the control consoles up here and discovered the code that has laid dormant in every control crystal in every system supplied by the Galactic Federation. It never would have been found if it hadn't been activated remotely. The cities aren't going to reinsert in the gravity wakes, the Galactic Federation means to crash the cities into Prime. Then they will come in and take over the infrastructure.”

  I blinked and tried to argue, “That... doesn't make sense. If this is their plan, why wouldn't they use the cities as well as the infrastructure... it would make more...”

  She said in that emotionless tone that kept me thinking something was wrong with her, “Because they are vindictive. And the story of another catastrophic event like Ursula Prime would hold more water if they had to construct new cities, possibly even on the surface.”

  I shook my head. “But then in eight days...” I finished in my head, 'you'll be dead.'

  Emotion made its way into her tone again. “And that, love, is why we need you. With every space rated ship heading out-system by this malicious code to die in space, you're the only one who can help us.”

  I was nodding absently, I'd do anything to save the woman I loved. But what could I do? My mouth was working without my permission, and I heard the analytical part of me asking, “Wait, how did you get partial life support, and how did you get systems available to hack the crystals if you are cut off from the power and the computer core?”

  I knew the answer already, and I closed my eyes tight, trying to contain my rage. Sometimes I liked Dr. Germaine, she had been my hero for so long, being the Prime Director of Sciences. But she made a habit of using the people I loved, my pingers and my girl like they were nothing but science experiments.

  And knowing the sort of computing power they would need to run the systems required to keep them alive with makeshift CO2 scrubbers and scavenging any oxygen storage on the upper levels, and to keep other vital systems operational, there was only one processor they had up there that could run it all.

  The core consisted of a half dozen redundant Mark 23 processors, the same processor in dreadnaught class battleships. But the only other computer they had up there which wouldn't be affected by this malicious code was a Mark 32. That thing could run an entire armada of spacecraft through interstellar space. I knew about it because I had to hack it and jury-rig temporary systems for it when I saved Vashon.

  I tried to suppress a growl when she said almost reluctantly, “Well, Dr. Germaine sort of... well I'm New Terra right now Fixie.”

  That is what she meant by 'more' earlier. They had my girl running the city, like a gods be damned, flanterskelling machine! She was a person damn them! Interfacing with a system like that, she probably had problems holding on to her sense of self, and was likely questioning if she were really alive or just a machine like they were using her as. She had that fear already, but now to add this?

  I muttered, “That bitch!”

  Then Vash was saying with a tinge of humor to someone I couldn't hear, “Oh don't look so shocked, Doc, you 'are' a bitch. But I and everyone else would already be dead if I hadn't volunteered to do this.”

  Then to me, she admitted her fears, “I don't feel like me hooked up like this. But when I see you and talk to you like this, I remember who I am.”

  I know who she is... She's the Sky Guard ranger who risks her life every day to protect the lives of others, so why would today be any different? That was a big part of why I loved her so much.

  I told her that, and I didn't give a flying fart in space who heard me.
“I love you, lady.”

  I could almost hear the smirk in her voice as she said, “I love you too. Now, we have some work to do. I'm talking with the boys already, they are going to make a better communications setup for you so we can all coordinate.”

  I smiled at that, as I was just going to suggest that. My mind was already racing through scenarios, trying to figure out how to do the impossible. Almost on cue, I saw my pingers come inside down below, they looked to be in a deep conversation as they trundled to the workbenches and the piles of scrap parts we had there.

  She said, “We are building a wireless analog remote transceiver relay on our side so that once you hack the core, you can set up a transmitter on your end and we can regain control of the city and get to the others before they burn up on re-entry.”

  I closed my eyes and sighed and said the unspoken part, “And I will try to figure out how I can get into orbit and survive in space while I go to hack a military-grade system while simultaneously deactivating the malicious instruction sets.”

  She actually chuckled, making me feel a little better about her being jacked into a city and acting like its computer. “Piece of cake.”

  Then she said more mechanically, “We only have ninety-three point six five eight minutes before we pass behind the planet, let me fill you in on the rest.”

  I nodded. Was it wrong I found it sexy that she could calculate things in her head like that with such precision? I may have heated up inappropriately in these dire circumstances when she said it.

  I went about my own planning as she explained everything that had happened since the hack. The two most chilling things were the automated messages that played on every device with a screen or a speaker as the code started to execute. A message from Terra stating that the Tau Ceti system was suspected of sedition and of constructing military vessels without Old Earth oversight. And that the only recourse they had was Pacification. That we would all die as an example to other systems where unrest was growing.

  So they weren't even sure if we really were building a self-defense fleet? Just the suspicion we might be was enough for them to commit genocide? By the lords of the cosmos, I was starting to feel for the Betweeners who fought the Galactic Federation control of their lives. I didn't condone the pirates, I just understood more clearly why they broke off from society like they did.

  The second thing was that all the pingers and other self-contained AIs in the city had started hunting down and attacking every technician and engineer in the city. Killing the only people who might be able to find a way around the shield, no matter how slim that chance was, made a morbid sense to me.

  The irony of the thing was that they found the control code was dormant inside the Asimov Inhibitor Chips which were supposed to prevent that very thing. And none of my pingers had been affected when the activation pulse went through the system because the first thing I did whenever I got a new pinger, was to disable that chip and make the required changes to their systems to wake them up. Otherwise, I would likely be dead too. They would have come after the only technician on the planet... me.

  I was sickened by the cost of stopping the pingers topside, almost three-quarters of the New Terra Sky Guard rangers in the city gave their lives to stop them and save the engineers like Dr. Germaine.

  It was after we said our goodbyes until they emerged out of the planet's shadow, that I had an idea as I ran to the door below, Flower in hot pursuit.

  I flung the door open and looked across the compound to where a blood red, heavily damaged space rated tumbril sat. Betweeners had tried to raid the A1 for food and supplies during the Pass, thinking it abandoned. Vashon, even injured, proved to be more than a match for them. But she had damaged the tumbril and broken the crystal-alloy cockpit window.

  Maybe I could repair the beast now that it was safe for me to go outside. I wondered if I could scavenge what I needed for the repairs from the Boneyard, the junkyard of scrap, garbage, and discarded tech from the floating cities.

  Ok, a mechanical problem for me to work on. That, I can do. I was feeling a little more confident, they call me Fixit because if it's broken, odds are, I can fix it. I grabbed my toolkit, whistled loudly and motioned Glitch over and marched out across the compound. One thought echoing in my mind as we went. Eight days.

  Chapter 3 – Troublesome Logistics

  Five days later, I called out as I repeatedly struck the makeshift control relay on the damaged plasma drive engine with the hammer my multi-tool was currently configured as, sparks rained down from the vents on the damaged pirate craft, “Try her now, Glitchy.”

  I moved aside to where he could see me from the poorly patched windscreen of the tumbril, then with a cough, the drive ignited. I wiped the sweat from my brow. This was hard work, but... I gave him a thumbs up, and I heard him squee a question as he shut down the port drive. I nodded at his inquiry and called out, “Just needed a little delicate persuasion.”

  Then I just blinked at the ship that wasn't the pretty streamlined red pirate vessel it had been before we bastardized half of its systems and patched the damage done to her by Vash using a riveter like an old-fashioned projectile weapon from some classic action adventure wave. It was amazing just how much damage was done. These tumbril vessels are rated for micrometeorite impacts, but those white-hot, titanium/ceramic rivets cut through its armor like a hot knife through butter.

  I patted the vessel. She was going to be hell to fly manually since we shattered all the auto navigation control crystals, so we wouldn't find ourselves flying out-system as soon as we took to the air, but I think we can do it.

  Glitch joined me at my side as I said, “Ok, that's half our problem. Now we have to figure out how I can survive outside of her.” He nodded sagely as I looked at the huge dodo bird from the history books of Old Earth that my pingers had painted on either side of the monstrosity.

  I had asked Flower dryly, thinking about my own open-air tumbril, the Albatross, “Is there a theme going on here I should know about? Why are all my ship names extinct birds? Wouldn't a species that was still alive be better juju for flying?”

  She... just turned away from me as if to say, “Harrumph,” and I had to smile.

  Then I squinted at the ship and asked Glitch. “Did you shut down all the systems before coming out?”

  He nodded, then slowed his nod and looked back at the ship which was humming. His ocular port iris widened, and he squeed in alarm as he rocketed back up the debarkation ramp of the vessel, sparks drizzling from him as he bumped over the rough metal. I had to smile at the poor scatterbrained boy. I swear, one day I'll get the parts and supplies I need to fix all my pingers the right way.

  I sighed then slapped down my goggles to see Sai, working at her desk up in New Terra. As if she could feel eyes on her, her cat ears twitched, and her cybernetic tail swished behind her. She looked up and smiled at her screen, where I knew she saw me. “Fixit, it's marrrlvelous to see you. To what do I owe the honorrr? You arrrn't due to check in forrr anotherrr hourrr.” She stretched in a decidedly feline manner.

  For someone as capable and no doubt dangerous as she was, she was borderline adorable. The Modder was both Doctor Germaine's Assistant Director of Covert Sciences and Lady Perigrine's personal bodyguard. I assumed 'personal bodyguard' was interchangeable with 'assassin', as I've been apprised of some of the quite lethal projects she has completed for Prime's Dark Fleet.

  Germaine and Lady Peregrine had appointed her as my point of contact once we had decent communications through the augmented reality visor the boys cooked up with the Director. The Doctor informed me that Vashon's time was 'better spent' keeping the city's makeshift support systems running while rewriting every single command and control system in her supercomputing brain so that they were ready on their end if I was actually able to get up there.

  Modders were an odd but fun segment of the population who liked getting cybernetic implants or medical procedures to modify their appearance to add animal-like asp
ects to themselves. The most popular were the Nekos, who almost worshiped cats and wanted to take on their aspects. Some just went for ears or whiskers. The more hardcore would even opt for the cybernetic tail implants that precluded them from buying normal clothing as they had to be modified to accept the tail.

  But then there were what they called on the modder scene, the Trues, or True Nekos. They were the ones who opted for all of the above, plus the intracranial behavior modification implants which were usually only used on convicted criminals. They used the tech not to pacify like they were originally intended, but instead to instill and enforce catlike mannerisms in the individual.

  Unfortunately for modders, most people's bodies rejected more than the most basic implants, so the ones who couldn't get more than basic communications or information grid uplink implants, opted for painful surgical procedures to effect the desired physical modifications.

  Sai, like my girlfriend, was one of the blessed people whose body was quite tolerant of even the more invasive implants. She was a True who even went so far as to have her speech patterns modified to reflect her feline ways. So she almost purred or yowled out her words depending on her emotional state.

  Me? I thought she made an adorable Neko, though I had to keep reminding myself that she could probably kill me in a thousand ways in an instant and make it look like an accident.

  I tried to keep my excitement reined in when I blurted, “The tumbril is ready. I just need to come up with some sort of EVA suit now.”

  She looked to almost vibrate in place with a smile on her face. Then she twisted her head a little to lick the wispy orange fur that stuck out under her short sleeve. The fur tapered away to nothing at her wrists. Then she said, “That's woderrrful news! Vashon said you could do it!”

  I hesitated. “How is she?”

  I could see the concern in her face, but she was fairly confident as she leaned over to rub her cheek and chin on a lateral support column in her office as Vash's surrogate since for all intents and purposes, she 'was' the city at the moment. “Yourrr girrrl is doing fine. A little strrrained, but she is amazing.”