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Bishop's Gambit Omnibus

Page 2

by Jeremy Fabiano


  “Well?” she asked. “What are we waiting for?” She beamed with excitement as she tore into the box of parts. We laid the parts out in the order that we’d install them, and I grabbed the interface gear and our toolsets.

  Anne and I spent the rest of the night installing and swapping parts. It was probably five in the morning ship time before we finally collapsed, exhausted.

  I woke up still in the cargo hold with a blanket on top of me. My neural interface gear sat beside my makeshift bed.

  “New orders just came in,” said Anne as she handed me a plate of eggs and vegetables. “You think the ship is ready?”

  I nodded, stuffing my mouth full of food. “Yeah, the only thing left to do are fine adjustments. We can do those on the way.”

  “I hope this stuff all works,” she said. “We're broke until we collect on this next mission.”

  “We'll be fine,” I said, smiling. “Nothing to worry about.” I hope. “So, where are we going?”

  “Steve was right, as usual. We're heading to the asteroid mines around Jupiter.”

  “Makes you wonder who his sources are,” I said. “All right, I'll let’s get this place cleaned up. Did you already call Steve?”

  “Yeah,” she said. “I already did, he’ll be here by the time we're ready to go. The freighter is transporting the freelance ships out to Jupiter.”

  My eyebrows shot up. “They're sending everyone?” They must be getting desperate. “But if there's a full load, where are they going to park all of our ships on the way back?”

  “They're not,” said Steve as he strode into the Strider’s cargo bay. “Something weird is going on, and I can't get any closer to the answer.” He grabbed a potato off my plate and started munching on it. “We need to watch our backs on this one.”

  “You think we'll be taking the long way home?” I asked.

  Steve nodded. “That. Or worse,” he said. “There’s a lot that I'm afraid could happen. Corruption is spreading in the leadership. Now’s the perfect opportunity for some pirate attacks to get rid of some competition. And you two have made some enemies in the merchant circles.”

  “Good thing for upgrades,” I said, handing him the rest of my plate. “Let me get this stuff cleaned up, and we can head out.”

  Steve happily took the plate from me and finished off the vegetables I hadn’t gotten to yet. I put the tools away and moved my interface equipment to the cockpit as Anne was just requesting launch clearance.

  The ship lurched suddenly even with the inertial compensators. Steve and I hit the deck harder than either of us would have liked. “Holy crap!” squealed Anne. “Sorry, wasn’t expecting it to be so responsive…”

  “I told you it would be,” I said, holding my head. A small bead of blood dripped from the cut where my head had hit the floor.

  Steve handed me a bandage. “Get that patched up,” he said. “Don’t want to be bleeding in your helmet.” I took it, nodding in thanks.

  “All right,” said Anne. “I think I’ve got the hang of this. Heading for the hangar exit.” I felt the ship accelerate as we headed for space.

  In a matter of minutes, we were clear of the moon’s gravity well and headed toward the Bastion freighter. It orbited the moon about fifty kilometers away. I looked out the canopy and took note of the massive amount of ships lined up for landing in the Bastion’s massive cargo hold.

  “There’s so many,” said Anne. “Every working ship in the entire fleet has to be out here.”

  “Wow,” I said. “I don’t even think I’ve seen this many ships in one place before.”

  “It’s an impressive sight, for sure,” said Steve from the rear compartment of the Strider.

  Anne guided our little ship toward the Bastion and joined the line of ships. It took almost an hour before the Strider touched down in the massive docking bay with a light thud. “It’s going to be almost an hour before we get there,” she said. “Let’s make sure the systems are all working right. I don’t want anything to go wrong out in the asteroid field.”

  The trip to Jupiter was mostly uneventful. Security guards came by and inspected our ship to make sure we didn’t have any contraband.

  “At least they weren’t techies,” said Anne. “Otherwise, we’d be in for some major problems.”

  “Yeah,” I said.

  “Random search, my ass,” said Steve. Did you notice the Strider was the only ship to get searched?”

  “No?” I asked. “I was busy working on syncing the neural interface gloves with the helmet. Did you see something?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “I was watching their team while loading the storage crates. They entered the hangar bay, looked around for a bit, then made a beeline straight for the Strider. If that isn’t fishy, I don’t know what is.”

  “Well, good looking out, I guess. Hope they’re happy they didn’t find anything,” I said.

  “Yeah,” he said. “Guess we’ll see…”

  I made several adjustments to many of the ship’s systems on the trip out to Jupiter. The reactor was working better than it ever had before. The engines hummed with potential. And the sensors, well, they were more sensitive than ever.

  I felt the gravitational pull of Jupiter steadily increasing as the freighter neared the giant planet. Even at ten percent resolution, the sensory feedback from the Strider was astounding.

  The other ships in the cargo bay gave off a myriad of sensations as the different energies from their engines mixed together into a cacophony of noises.

  “Bishop, how’s the ship?” asked Steve over the comms.

  “Indescribable. I had overclocked the old processor to almost one hundred and sixty percent. Even at only ten percent the resolution difference between the military and civilian issue processors is massive. I can't imagine running it at a hundred for any length of time.”

  Anne laughed. “Just don't lose yourself in there.”

  “I won't, sis. In fact, I—wait. Something’s up. I just detected a tight wave transmission into deep space.”

  “I didn't see anything on the scopes,” said Anne.

  “It's buried against the engine noise of all the ships. Your scope doesn't have the resolution to filter it out, but I know what I saw. It was almost as if someone had skipped a rock through a pond.”

  “Orders coming in,” said Steve. “Skids up in five.” The cargo bay lights dimmed and turned red as the Bastion’s cargo bay began to slide open. The vast emptiness of space loomed before me like an abyss.

  “Those two transmissions were way too close together for my comfort,” I said. “Keep an eye on everything, and watch our backs.”

  I checked all of our systems again for the hundredth time. I also turned the resolution to twenty percent. My vision went white, and a stabbing pain hit my whole body.

  3

  Slowly, my senses reset, and I got used to the extra stimuli.

  “Bishop? What's wrong? Can you hear me?

  “Uh, sorry, was tweaking the reactor and got distracted. I'm good.” Information flooded my senses, but I was just barely able to keep up.

  “All right, good. Just making sure. We're up next for launch.”

  We left the freighter behind and headed for the asteroid belt. I felt the pulses of energy from the reactor thrumming through the power conduits and exiting from the engines. The entire ship felt like it wanted to go faster. Ahead of us, the asteroids were still tiny, but they grew larger by the second. From experience, however, I knew some of them were large enough that you could land a freighter on them.

  “Hey, champ, how's the power stream looking?” asked Steve.

  Before I even pulled up the monitor, I knew the answer like the ship was trying to anticipate my needs before I knew them. I couldn't wait to see what the interface could do at higher settings. “Looks good. Itching to try out that new mining laser?”

  “Hell yeah,” he said. “It's supposed to be some pretty sophisticated lens design with a lot higher output, but it's power hu
ngry.”

  I tried to smile, but nothing happened. Good thing ships didn't have mouths. “Feel free to go all out,” I said. “We have enough power for a ship three times the size.”

  “Wow,” said Steve. “All right then, once we get there, I’ll turn this thing all the way up.”

  We approached the first asteroid on our nav plan, and Anne landed the ship nimbly on its surface. “You're up, Steve,” she said. The comms crackled for a moment.

  “What was that?” I asked.

  “Probably just background radiation,” said Steve. “Still, doesn't hurt to be a little paranoid. Watch your backs.”

  I started scanning through all the different frequency spectrums I could see and hear. Nothing out of the ordinary. I kept cycling through each sensor, determined to find something. The comms didn’t get staticky for no reason at all. While I waited, I decided I'd turn the resolution up a percent per hour for the rest of our mission.

  As we headed for the second asteroid on the nav plan, Anne jumped on the comms. “This one’s gonna be tricky,” she said. “It’s spinning slowly on two different axes, so I’m going to have to get the ship to line up before we land on it.” Steve complained the entire time as she maneuvered the ship into just the right spot.

  “Easy, this cargo is fragile,” he grumbled.

  I felt the landing skids grip the surface of the rock and clamp on. I watched the external camera as Steve stepped out of the airlock lugging his massive mining laser on his shoulder. An automated cart with a fluid collection tank followed him around trailing hoses that ran to the laser. He leveled the laser and fired it at the ground. Within seconds, glowing fluid slowly seeped up the clear hoses and began to fill the tank.

  Ten hours and two more nav points later, the cargo hold was full of whatever ore we had been mining and we were headed back to the freighter without incident. However, now I could clearly see the three encrypted data streams hiding in the noise of thirty ships. I told Steve and Anne.

  “How do you see this now and not before?” asked Steve.

  “Because he's been turning up the resolution on his neural interface. That's why he didn't answer when he lied about tweaking the reactor earlier today. Isn’t that right, Bishop?”

  “I, uh,” I stammered.

  “What percent?” she asked.

  Well, if she hit me, I wouldn't feel it right now at least. “Thirty,” I said.

  “Thirty? In one day?” she demanded. “Are you crazy?”

  “Not yet,” I said. I could swear I felt her glaring and scowling at me. “I'm turning it up one percent per hour. I stopped at thirty for now because it was disorienting me for longer each time I turned it up.”

  “When this mission is over, we're gonna have words, mister.”

  “Oh, look. Time to dock,” said Steve, cutting in. “And we're next in line to unload. Guess we can continue this conversation never.”

  Anne guided the Strider toward the docking bay. Workers unloaded the cargo canisters from our docking bay and guided us back out in order to make room for the next ship. “So,” said Anne. “You think they'll tell us that we have to fly ourselves home? Or just bail and not say anything?”

  Steve laughed. “Knowing them? This will be typical politics. After all, it’s better to ask forgiveness, and justify it for the good of the colony, than to ask all of us for permission. Anyone who has a problem with it will be arrested or their ship impounded for being anti-patriotic.”

  “Steve, that seems a bit conspiratorial, don't you think?” asked Anne.

  “Not if you've seen what I have lately,” said Steve. “It's getting quite cutthroat in the colonial leadership.”

  I noticed several more transmission bursts from deep space and from several of the ships, and it made me nervous. “It’s getting pretty loud out there. I guess we're about to find out one way or another,” I said.

  “He'll start with something positive,” said Steve. “Probably thank us for our hard work.”

  As if on cue, I saw the transmission burst beam to the freighter and then retransmit to all the surrounding ships.

  “Attention, all ships.” The president's transmission began. “Thank you for your services to the colony. We will have all of the resources we need for the next few months because of your hard work.”

  “And here comes the hammer,” said Steve.

  “Unfortunately, we need to ask more of you. There isn't enough room in the transport freighter to ferry your ships back home as well as carry the cargo which is vital to Colony Two-Seven’s survival. We ask that you make your way back on your own. Thank you for your service and the sacrifice of your time for the good of the colony and your fellow man.”

  “And there you have it,” said Steve, voice dripping with sarcasm over the comms. “Our illustrious leadership.” The freighter’s engines ignited, and it began to pull away, abandoning all the ships which it had ferried.

  Comms traffic exploded from every direction as all the freelance pilots grew outraged. After a while, several engines fired up, and ships began heading toward Jupiter. We followed suit and maneuvered into the procession of ships getting ready to slingshot around the planet on their long journey toward the moon.

  4

  I felt the plasma beams before I ever saw them. The ship in front of us exploded into a blue and green cloud of ionized particles racing in every direction. It was breathtakingly beautiful. How ironic that such a thing could come from the loss of life.

  The procession of ships scattered in random launch directions. As for the Strider, we managed to only be a degree or two off from our trajectory, but that would cost us weeks of travel time.

  “No choice!” screamed Anne as she pushed the newly modified engines into the red zone. The thrust was incredible. With our new speed and the pull of the planet, we were traveling at two or three times faster than we normally would have been.

  Steve laughed over the comms. “I don’t know what you did to those engines, but damn!”

  Even at this speed, I could sense the raging battle behind us. “They’re dying back there,” I said.

  “Was nothing you could do for them, Bishop,” said Steve. “Had we stayed, we’d be dead too. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say we were on the menu. The ship they shot should have stopped us from making the slingshot run.”

  “Why didn’t they just shoot us instead?” asked Anne.

  “Armor is too thick on the top of the Strider,” I said. “The ship in front of us had a structural weakness in the top middle about one point seven centimeters left of the main power conduit. It was all but glowing when I looked at it.”

  “You could see that?” asked Steve.

  “Definitely. It’s like the interface is designed to point out questionable structural inconsistencies so I can exploit them. Probably something to do with the military programming.”

  Anne gasped. “So, if they could see the same thing you did…”

  “Then they have a military issue neural interface as well,” finished Steve. “That’s why they shot the other ship. If they’d have slowed us down, they could have finished us.”

  “And,” I said. “They also underestimated us. Their data showed our ship being a lot slower than it is now.”

  “I know what it all means,” said Anne. “We need more upgrades.”

  “Exactly,” I said. “Always keep them guessing.” I paused for a moment. “It also means I need to master the interface at a hundred percent.” No one said anything for several minutes.

  “Bishop,” said Anne.

  “I know,” I said. “I’ll be careful.”

  “No, not that,” she said.” You need to sleep. They shouldn’t be able to catch up to us, and it’ll be at least a few days before we can decelerate. You should take advantage and rest while you can.”

  I reluctantly agreed and disconnected from the ship. My hands shook as I removed the interface helmet and gloves. I drank water and stood, only to wobble in place for a moment.
<
br />   “Whoa, easy there,” said Steve. “Let us help you.”

  “You’re exhausted,” said Anne. “You pushed yourself way too hard…”

  I mumbled something noncommittal and was fast asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. My dreams turned to nightmares as the ship I’d witnessed exploding haunted me. Life lost, for no good reason.

  I was awake before my eyes opened. Slowly, I began to make out the words in the conversation I was overhearing.

  “He’s been asleep for over thirty hours,” said Anne.

  “I know you’re worried about him, but Bishop’s fine. He’ll wake up when he’s good and rested. He’s been pushing himself pretty hard for the last few days, and he’s just exhausted.”

  “I know, but—” she argued.

  “I’m fine, Anne.” I said. I opened my eyes just in time to see her jump. “Thanks for worrying, but I’m okay, really.” I smiled at her. “In fact, I feel great. Where are we?”

  “A week or so from the moon,” said Steve. “We weren't as far off as we thought we would be, but still, a couple of degrees translates to a lot of distance the farther out you go.” Steve hesitated. He was keeping something back.

  “Tell him, Steve,” said Anne. “Or I will.”

  “Tell me what?” I asked.

  Steve scowled. “Well…two things. First off, we're low on food. We've been rationing, and you being asleep helped.”

  “And?” I asked expectantly.

  “We're being followed,” he said.

  I stood and made my way to the sensor console. Sure enough, three blips were on the edge of our sensor range, about a day behind us. I reached for my interface equipment.

  “What are you going to do?” asked Anne.

  “See who they are, who they’re talking to, and where those people are at,” I said. “Maybe surprise them.” I didn’t wait for a response before donning the helmet. I pressed the “Dive” button as I dropped into the seat.

 

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