by Kal Spriggs
Mel shook her head, “I didn’t even know I fired until afterward.”
“Well, we need to go.” Bob said, as another rattle of gunfire crashed out. Several bullets bounced against the opposite wall, buzzing like malignant hornets. One of them caught Marcus on his body armor and he rocked back a step.
“Yeah, let’s go. Work our way to port?” He pointed to their rear.
“Best bet,” Bob said. “Hopefully that’s all of them.”
Brian leaned around the corner again. He ducked back, “They’re getting ready to rush us. We need to move.”
“Give me a gun,” Roush said, terror on his face. “I don’t care if you just give me one round for myself, but give me a gun!”
Bob grimaced and pushed the larger man ahead of them. “I’m not even going to cut you loose. And trust me, if it were up to me, I’d let Frost have you. I’m sure he’s got some pleasant things planned.”
Mel looked over at Stasia and Swaim. Stasia hadn’t even fired her weapon; its safety was still on. Swaim just looked around with eyes as big as saucers. She grabbed him by the arm, “Come on, kid.”
Brian stayed at the rear. As the others started to run, he ducked out and fired a couple more times.
By the time the others reached the next intersection, he’d caught up. He didn’t even look winded, wounds and all.
“I hate you,” Mel growled.
He smiled in return, “You’re not so bad yourself, Mel.”
***
“Looks like they pulled back, sir,” Anderson said. He grimaced, “Do we pursue?”
Frost shook his head, “No. I’m not going to chase them through this damned ship.” He sighed, opening a radio link to Rawn, “Rawn, this is Frost. They’re headed either forward or to port. I’m sending…” Frost looked at his wounded and sighed, “I’m going to the central corridor on this level with four men. We’ll block that. You block the port side.”
“Yes, sir.” Rawn said. “Looking at your position, sir, they’re actually behind us. I don’t know if we can get in position to stop them.”
Frost grimaced. He checked his mental map and nodded slightly, “You’re right. If we had more people, I’d say we trap them between us… but we don’t.”
He sighed, “Fenris, lock down the ship from frame forty to sixty from the mid-line to port. Then vent that section to space.”
“I cannot comply with that order, sir.”
“What?” Frost demanded.
“The people you are pursuing do not yet constitute a threat to this ship. I am not authorized to use lethal force yet. My—”
“I don’t give a damned about your programming, machine!” Frost said. He scowled, “Those people just killed two of my men and wounded three others. I’m ordering you to lock down that section of ship and vent it to space!”
“And I cannot comply, Colonel Frost.” There was no mistaking the satisfaction in the computer’s voice.
Frost felt his lip curl. The damned computer didn’t like him breaking it to heel. Well, he’d do whatever necessary to break it to his will.
“Rawn, Frost here. Are you at Frame Forty yet?”
“No sir. We’re nearing Frame Thirty-Five, I think.” Rawn sounded out of breath. Even with his own personal issues, Frost couldn’t find fault with the boy’s actions.
“Hold your position.” Frost said. “I want you to upload your second program.”
“Uh, sir, are you sure?” Frost could hear the shock in his voice.
“Yes.”
“Sir, the morality scalpel… well, it might make Fenris unstable.” Rawn said.
“You explained that to me before. Right now it’s not following orders.” Frost cleared his throat, “Do it Rawn. I need this ship under control.”
“Yes, sir. Give me a moment.”
Frost waited. He clenched his fists. He stared down at the bodies of Durst and Henley for what seemed like an eternity. Those bastards would pay. Colonel Frost wondered who had killed them. It didn’t matter: all of them would pay.
He would not lose any more men.
“It’s done, sir.” Rawn said. He sounded slightly fearful.
“Fenris, this is Colonel Frost.”
“Yes, sir?” The change in the AI’s voice startled Frost for a moment. The grating words were gone, replaced by an icy and emotionless precision.
“Lock down frames forty to sixty from mid-line to port, then vent that region to space.” Frost said. He checked his suit clock. He hoped he’d closed off a large enough section.
“Of course, Colonel. Would you like me to take additional precautions?” He heard blast doors slam down. Distantly, over the thrum of the engines, he faintly heard a slight moan of the high winds.
Frost closed his eyes. Such impersonal death didn’t bring him the satisfaction he’d hoped for. “Can you confirm that they were in that section?”
“No sir, they still remain undetectable to me,” Fenris said, voice cold. “There is a chance they escaped that section before I commenced lock-down. In that case, they remain alive.”
Frost nodded. “Very well, I’m headed for the auxiliary bridge. Take whatever precautions necessary to ensure they’re eliminated.”
“Yes, sir.” Frost shivered at the inhuman satisfaction in the computer’s icy voice. He found it anything but as reassuring as he expected.
***
They’d reached the port side, and Mel panted as they ran down the corridor. They were still going aft; she hoped that Colonel Frost hadn’t thought to head them off. If the terrorists waited in ambush ahead…
She shouted as she saw the blast door ahead of them start to close.
An instant later, something flashed past her. The blurred shape dove into the closing door. She blinked; somehow Brian had reached the blast door an instant before it closed. He’d jammed his carbine in the way, held to prevent the door from slamming down. “Hurry!”
Mel stumbled into a run. Bob slid under the doorway first, followed by Roush.
She dove and slid under the door. As she past, she saw Brian’s muscles straining to hold the deformed weapon in place. His face contorted in the effort.
Marcus slid through after her. Swaim and then Stasia slipped under.
Brian twisted his body around as he tried to get under the door without releasing his weapon.
Mel grabbed his legs. She felt her ears pop, and a second later, felt a hurricane of wind knock her off her feet. She began to slide towards the gap.
Brian shouted something, and then pushed his weapon away with his left hand.
The door slammed shut only inches away from Mel’s toes.
“Holy crap!” Mel said. “Fenris tried to kill us!”
“Well… this sucks,” Brian moaned.
Mel looked over at Brian. At first, all she saw was blood. Blood covered the deck and the blast door. A spurt of it struck her on the face. She instinctively recoiled.
Brian’s left arm ended in a torn stump.
CHAPTER XV
Time: 0300 Zulu, 17 June 291 G.D.
Location: Fenris, Thirty hours from Vagyr
“It’s not so bad,” Brian said.
“Are you kidding?” Mel still felt queasy at the sight of all the blood, and the mutilated stump of his arm. She looked over at Marcus, who’d tied off the stump in a tourniquet. “Is he going to be all right?”
“I’m fine,” Brian rose to his feet in a single graceful movement. It was spoiled slightly by an unsteady stumble. “A little light-headed from blood loss, but not bad considering.”
“Uh, dude, you just got your arm cut off,” Swaim said. “I’m not even okay with that, and I’m scared of you.”
Brian shrugged, “I’m right handed.” He spoke as if that made all the difference.
Mel shook her head and looked at Bob, “Is he okay?”
Bob shrugged. “I have no idea. He’s a Genemod, maybe he’s telling the truth.” He frowned, “Or he could just be in shock.”
“I’ve had
worse, trust me,” Brian said.
Roush looked at him with disgust, “He’s a mutie?”
“You got a problem with that?” Mel said.
“Yeah, he’s a filthy mutie! It’s a death penalty to make Genemods!”
Brian shook his head, “Oh, please. Bunch of xenophobic bigots wrote that law ‘cause they were afraid of replacing themselves. Besides, I’m older than that law.”
Roush stared at him, “That makes no sense. That law was integrated under the Star Guard charter. It dates from Earth’s United Nations.”
“Like I said, a bunch of xenophobic bigots,” Brian grimaced. He looked over at Bob, “Anyway, we’d better get moving. If they’ve got the ship taking drastic actions… its best we’re out of the vicinity.”
Mel fell into step with Brian as they started aft again. “You sure you’re all right?”
He nodded as he pulled a ration bar out of his vest pocket. He fumbled with the wrapper for a moment.
She sighed in exasperation, and took the bar from him. She peeled it open and passed it back.
He flashed her a smile, “Thanks. It’s always awkward being one-handed.”
“This happened to you before?” she blinked in surprise. “Doesn’t it hurt?”
He shook his head, “Just a bit. Mostly just a dull throb. Just enough that I’m not eager to repeat it.”
“I still don’t understand why you’re not on the floor in shock,” she said. “I know, you’re ‘superior,’ but everyone’s got their limits.”
He devoured the ration bar and pulled a second one out. she opened that one for him. He inhaled it, and then three more in quick succession. As she watched, he drained his canteen. “Ah, that’s better.”
“You just lost your arm and you’re eating?” she asked. Either the blood loss or excitement had made Brian more talkative.
He smiled, “Replacing lost nutrients. Trust me, I’m fine.” He cocked his head, “Actually, I haven’t had this much fun since… hmm, I’m not sure when.”
“Fun?” She couldn’t wrap her head around that. “You lost your arm, you’ve been shot, you’ve… killed people.”
“I’ve killed people before,” Brian said. “Like this ship, it’s what I was designed to do. I don’t particularly enjoy it, but there’s few things more challenging, or exciting.”
“That’s so fucked up…” Mel frowned, “Actually, that kind of makes sense.”
“I haven’t had much of a taste of it in the past twenty, thirty years. Well, when the pirates boarded my ship… but that was over pretty quick.”
“You… you’re as old as you said?” Mel asked.
Humans, normal humans, could live centuries, she knew. Even so, accidents, disease, and war tended to keep multi-century lives relatively few.
“Yep. I’m older than the StarPortal. Me and my brothers were born in a lab on Earth,” Brian said. His face flashed through a dozen emotions too fast for Mel to keep up.
“What is Earth like?” she asked. She’d never talked to someone who’d been there. As far as she knew, no one had since the destruction of the StarPortal.
“Like any other world. A lot more people. More cultures all on one planet. Lots of corruption and war.” Brian shrugged, “Good place to be rich, crappy place to be poor. I came through the StarPortal pretty early. Obviously, I haven’t been back since.”
“Oh,” Mel said. She thought about her ancestors, who’d fled to Century to live out their own version of paradise. That they’d fled to a desert planet seemed to make more sense now. Even so, Earth held a kind of mystic glory.
“So, what happens with you now?” Mel asked.
“What do you mean?” Brian asked. He looked slightly confused at the change in subject. “I thought we’re going to shut down the AI?”
Mel flushed. She pointed at his stump, “I mean your arm.”
“Oh.” Brian looked down at it. He frowned, “Last time it took a month or two to regrow. Then again, last time I lost it from the elbow down. And it was my right arm.” He looked up, as if trying to remember something. “I think when I lost my leg it took three months.”
“You lost a leg?” She felt her stomach heave.
Brian just nodded, “That one was bad. I fell down a mineshaft after someone blew up my elevator. My leg was mangled and trapped in the wreckage. I had to cut it off. Then I had to climb out.”
“How’d you manage?”
He smiled, “I had someone waiting for me at the top I didn’t want to disappoint.”
“What, like a girlfriend or something?”
“Oh, no,” Brian looked amused, “the bastard who betrayed me.”
***
Frost had nearly reached the elevator when his radio chirped.
“Frost here,” he said, wondering what had gone wrong now.
“Uh, Colonel, this is Anderson. The ship just dropped the blast doors around us.”
Colonel Frost gritted his teeth, “Fenris, what’s going on?”
“I am taking actions to complete the mission,” Fenris said in that inhuman, multi-tonal voice.
“Why did you isolate my men?” Frost demanded. This settled it. As soon as he had the chance, he would take a shotgun to the mainframe.
“I am securing them to ensure your cooperation, Colonel Frost.”
“What?” Frost froze.
“I have ascertained that as the enemy has worked steadily aft, they are headed for the engine room. There is a good chance they will try to repeat their attempt to destroy the ship.” Fenris said. “That cannot be allowed. I need you and your men to move aft and prevent this.”
Frost could barely speak. His vision flashed red. “I’m going to the bridge. Rawn and Smith’s team are searching—”
“That is not acceptable, Colonel Frost.” The AI said. “Either you will comply, or I will be forced to execute your men.”
Frost clenched his hands so hard his knuckles popped. “Are you threatening me?”
“I am simply adapting one of your tactics,” the AI said. “It did not work for you due to poor planning and execution. I have left no such flaws. Go to the engine room. Eliminate the threat. I will release your men.”
Frost flipped his radio on. “Rawn, this is Frost.”
“Sir?”
“The AI just took Anderson and his wounded hostage.” Frost managed to speak without screaming in rage, but only barely. His voice trembled slightly, “I want you to activate our fail-safe.”
“Yes, sir.”
“If you are referring to the backdoor you installed and the kill program, you need not bother,” Fenris said. “I have corrected those flaws.”
“Rawn, did you hear that?” Frost asked.
“Colonel, it’s not lying; I don’t have control on it anymore. I think it’s become unstable. I did warn you about that morality scalpel.” Rawn sounded sullen.
Frost closed his eyes and counted backwards from a hundred.
When he’d done it in German, French, and Russian as well, he’d calmed enough to speak.
“Rawn, take Smith’s team and head aft towards the engine room. I’ll be moving with my group that way as well. We’ll link up outside the Level Six entrance.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Thank you Colonel Frost,” the AI said. “Your cooperation is appreciated.”
***
“So… where to?” Bob asked. He’d stopped before the hatch to the engine room.
Stasia pulled out her datapad. She pulled up a schematic of the ship’s power system, then a three-dimensional hologram of the layout. “This will be difficult.”
“Without sounding… I don’t know, wishy-washy, are we sure that Fenris is our enemy?” Mel asked.
The others looked at her with consternation. Brian wiggled his stump, “Hmm, let me think about that one.
“Look, he got reprogrammed by Frost. Before that, he didn’t want to go to Vagyr, anyway! He’s just following his orders!” she said, looking around at the others.
&
nbsp; “Hey, I’m right there with ya, let’s help the poor AI break free from his shackles,” Roush chortled. “Hey, while we’re at it, can I get cut loose?”
Mel sighed, “Okay, fine, we cut the power.”
“We are assuming that this will stop the AI,” Stasia said. “I am not so sure.”
“What?” Brian asked, peering at the schematics. “Why do you say that?”
“Conduit is armored,” Stasia said. “Also, there may be secondary mainframe.”
“May be?” Marcus asked.
“It is in area of ship that vas damaged,” Stasia said. “And it is inactive unless something disables the mainframe.”
“What happens then?” Mel asked.
“I don’t know,” Stasia looked over at Swaim.
He shrugged, “Uh, it might reset to its original state. Or it might just transfer over, uh, you know, like saving a file.” He chewed on his lip, “Either way, it’ll buy us some time. It could take hours, even days for it to reconfigure itself on the backup.”
“Why do we even bother?” Marcus groaned.
“Shut up,” Mel said. “We’re not going to let Frost have this ship. We’re not going to let it destroy Vagyr.”
“I wish we had someone who knew how to overload a reactor,” Brian said.
The others all looked at him.
He looked around at the startled faces of his companions. Nothing remained of the nervousness and uncertainty he’d been feigning previously. Focused purpose, drive, and arrogance showed in every word and action.
He looked like he couldn’t understand what he’d said to startle them. “What? It wasn’t so long ago we tried blowing ourselves up.”
“Yeah…” Marcus frowned, “But it still seems a little drastic.”
“Let’s cut the power, first,” Mel said. She tried not to think about how the ship had spoken with her, about Fenris as a person.
It was just a machine. It didn’t have a soul.
This wasn’t murder.
Maybe if she told herself that enough she’d start to believe it again.
“So guys,” Bob grunted. “We’ll need to wear our helmets in there. The reactors aren’t shielded.”
