Renegades (Expeditionary Force Book 7)

by Craig Alanson

  “I won’t let that happen.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  If Skippy wasn’t drunk-dialing me in the middle of the night, my own stupid brain disturbed my sleep. That night, because my dreams are meaningless craziness, I was crawling through a dusty air duct in Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory to steal the secret recipe for, I don’t remember which recipe. Probably some kind of chocolate. Anyway, the air duct was dusty and I sneezed, which attracted the attention of the Oompa-Loompas working in the place, only these were not happy, friendly Oompa-Loompas. These were Oompa-Loompas whose car had broken down on the way to work, in the rain, and they were already in a bad mood because their brother is crashing on their couch because he can’t find a job after getting out of prison for dealing meth again, and they hate their jobs because they are so sick of making chocolate. They were pissed off and looking to hit something and that something was me. As they chased me through the factory, they somehow turned into Vampire-Loompas and I ran through a part of the factory that was not making chocolate. This part of the factory was making new Vampa-Loompas, and as the freshly-made ones came off the end of the assembly line, they looked at me and-

  Hey, I told you my dreams don’t make sense.

  Anyway, that dream woke me up at 0447, which is nice because I got most of a good night’s sleep. “Skippy,” I called out, knowing he was awake.

  His avatar popped to life immediately, then put a hand over its eyes and blinked out.

  “Uh, Skippy, what the hell was that? Where did you go?”

  “Wheeew,” his voice came from the ceiling speaker. “Rough night, I guess? Joe, you look like you got run over by the Ugly Truck, then it backed up over your face a couple times to make sure. There’s a big red mark on your right cheek from sleeping on your hand.”

  “Huh. That explains why that hand is asleep,” I shook it, feeling pins and needles as it came back to life. “Hey,” I yawned and staggered over to the sink, splashing water on my face. “It’s impossible to steal one of these pixie things, those vaults are way too secure.”

  “Joe, you always say things are impossible, until you figure out some off-the-wall way to make it happen.”

  “Not this time. This time, if I do think up a way to do it, it will be way too risky. Forget about the vaults where pixies are stored. Being at that moonbase got me thinking. The Bosphuraq were in that star system to make something; atomic-compression warheads. Where do the Maxolhx make new pixies? They are not manufactured in the vaults where they store them, are they?”

  “Of course not. They are made in sort of a factory. A very secure factory.”

  “Yeah, good, I am sure the Maxolhx are very careful to keep track of new pixies that they can use. When the Maxolhx make blank pixies, do they all work properly? Or do they have to throw out some of them that got screwed up during the manufacturing process?”

  “Aha! No, no, no, no, NO! Not this time, Smart Guy. You think we can sneak around the back door of the factory, and steal discarded pixies from a dumpster in the alley? Ha! No way, Jose. Pixies get discarded because they don’t work, dumdum. We need functional pixies, in case you have not been keeping up with current events. Your idea doesn’t sound so smart now, does it, Mister Jerkface?”

  Sitting in my underwear was awkward, so I pulled on the pants I had worn the previous day. “You haven’t heard my idea yet.”

  “Oh. Um, I am very embarrassed. Please enlighten me.”

  “Out of a batch of a hundred pixies they make, how many are good?”

  “Um, I do not know where you are going with this, but that is actually a good question, Joe. Because the Maxolhx copied the technology from the Rindhalu and do not really understand how quantum-state pairing works, they throw out on average ninety seven out of a hundred units during the manufacturing process. Even to get three useful pixies from a hundred they make, it requires a lot of luck. Sometimes they have to discard an entire batch. However, as I said, discarded pixies are useless, Joe. Thank you for your faith in me, but I can’t magically fix the flaws in a broken pixie, in case that was your brilliant idea.”

  “I don’t want you to fix a busted one. I want to steal a good one off the assembly line.”

  “I hate you, Joe. This is the part where I should be looking forward to mocking you mercilessly for your stupid idea, but I can’t, because way too many times, you make me look like a fool by pulling a monkey-brained idea out of your ass. May I please bring to your attention the fact that we can’t simply steal a pixie, we have to do it in way that the Maxolhx never know it is missing?”

  “Yup, got that.”

  “And yet you see no problem with your plan?”

  “It’s more of a concept than a plan right now, Skippy. Let me ask you a question: how do the Maxolhx know there are flaws in a pixie they are making?”

  “Do I need to break this down Barney-style for you? There is not actually an assembly line like in a factory that makes cars, but there are several steps in the process to create a pixie. At every step, there are sensors that examine the item, and compare the current state of the object to a specified-”

  “No, Skippy. The sensors are how the manufacturing computer knows there are flaws. How do the Maxolhx themselves know?”

  “Because,” he replied very slowly, “the computer tells them. I feel like adding a ‘duh’ here would be almost too-”

  “Uh huh. So, if the computer doesn’t tell the Maxolhx about a flaw, they won’t know?”

  “Man, I am going to run out of ‘duhs’ if you keep-”

  “Yes or no?”

  “Yes, duh. What, you think there are Maxolhx wearing hairnets and overalls watching pixies come down the line, and throwing out the bad ones? Of course the computer handles the whole process. Why does that matter?”

  “This computer is an AI?”

  “Yes. The Maxolhx have AIs that are quite sophisticated, although of course compared to me or even one of my little subminds, it- Oh. Oh.”

  “You get it now, Skippy?”

  “I think so. You want me to hack into the AI that controls the factory, and make it think a good pixie actually has a flaw. Then, when this good pixie gets discarded, we take it, and the Maxolhx never know a useable pixie ever went missing. Is that it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Joe, that actually is brilliant. This plan has the advantages of being clever and devious. I like it! Hey, and, bonus, you can get a headstart on that life of crime I keep recommending you try.”

  “Skippy, I committed mutiny and stole a starship, I’ve got the life of crime thing covered.”

  “Hmm, stealing a starship is the mark of a criminal genius, Joe. If we ever get back to Earth, you should build a secret headquarters inside a volcano.”

  “That volcano thing never worked for the villains in James Bond movies. No, I will set up my criminal lair inside a Starbucks.”

  “A Starbucks?” He laughed.

  “Yeah. There’s like, a million Starbucks on the planet. The police would never find me. Ok, so tell me about this factory or whatever it is. Will it be as difficult to get in and out of as the vaults are?”

  “No. However, you know what I’m going to say next?”

  “Oh, crap. Is it ‘well heh heh you’re not going to like this’?”

  “Joe, you are not as dumb as you look.”

  He told me about the ‘factory’ where Paired Quantum-State Interchangers were made, and it sure did sound like one hell of a difficult target. Not as tough as the vaults, but still impossible. The first impossible part was getting anywhere near the factory, even with Skippy enhancing the stealth of a dropship, we would be detected before we got anywhere close to the target. “It really does seem impossible to get into that factory. How are we going to do that?”

  “Egg-zactly,” the beer can said unhelpfully.

  “Well, yeah, that was a question.”

  “It’s a good question.”

  “No, that was a question I was asking you.”


  “Well, it’s impossible, Joe. I have learned that when something is impossible, I should outsource the job to a monkey. Monkeys are too stupid to recognize when something is impossible, so they charge right ahead. Really, stubborn stupidity is kind of your species’ superpower.”

  “Great. Um, maybe we could do something like create a diversion, like on another planet in that star system.”

  “Nuh uh, no way, dude. We need to do the opposite of a diversion. We need the Maxolhx to think there is absolutely nothing different or unusual or interesting going on the day we break in to steal their priceless pixies. If those rotten kitties think there is any potential threat to the facility, they will lock it down tight and no one and nothing will get in or out. The facility that produces pixies is one of the most secure sites the Maxolhx have anywhere in the galaxy.”

  “Well, shit.”

  “Well, shit, indeed. You need to put your thinking cap on, Joe.”

  “Come on, throw me a bone, will ya? Give me something to work with.”

  “I don’t know what you expect me to do, Joe. So far, your plan is for me to somehow hack into a senior species AI, which I can’t do.”

  “Whoa. Wait just a minute, you arrogant beer can. You keep telling us you are so God-like smart, yet you can’t hack into a puny little computer?”

  “Nothing about a Maxolhx AI is puny, you ignorant monkey. Wait! Before you hurl more lame insults at me, let me be clear about what the problem is. If I could get into contact with that AI, for sure I could take complete control of it and the Maxolhx would never know anything unusual happened. The problem is not my capabilities, it is a lack of physical access. Joe, to take over the AI in that factory, I need access to it. That means going in there, and I can’t do that.”

  “Oh. Hell, Skippy, is it that difficult? Can’t we get you close, and you expand your reach through higher spacetime, or some sciency bullshit like that? When we went to Earth that first time, you used that ability to take over the two Kristang ships there. Your range for doing that is like, halfway to the moon, right?”

  “I do have that awe-inspiring ability, yes.”

  “Great,” I slapped the desk happily. “Then-”

  “Then nothing, dumdum. I can’t use that ability here. Not here here, I mean at that factory. Joe, that facility is one of a very few places in the galaxy where my presence could be detected by lowly biological trashbags like the Maxolhx. I create a local disturbance in the quantum connection between spacetime layers. The mechanisms that create pixies also rely on multi-dimensional physics. If I expanded my presence to encompass the space occupied by the AI there, I would disrupt the delicate mechanisms in the factory, and no way could the Maxolhx not notice that. Screwing with those mechanisms would cause the factory to lock down.”

  “Damn it!” That was majorly bad news. Most of the crazy stunts we had pulled off on our missions relied on Skippy’s incredible abilities. Without our magical beer can, how could we break into an ultra-secure place controlled and closely monitored by a senior species and their most powerful AIs? Unless we could get Skippy inside-

  “Hey,” I snapped my fingers. “We don’t need your presence to be inside that factory.”

  “We don’t?”

  “No. All we need is for you to connect to that AI.”

  “Uh, yeah, duh. That’s the problem. I can’t expand my presence through higher spacetime, and between physical barriers and electromagnetic countermeasures, the Maxolhx have absolutely prevented any communications channel from outside. There is no way for me to transmit a signal through-”

  “Yeah, blah blah blah, nerdy techie talk. Listen, you dumdum, we don’t need a channel to go through concrete walls or whatever. I’m going to have mercy on you and not keep an idiot in suspense, so here’s what we’re going to do; we get one end of a microwormhole in there, close to the AI or near its USB port or whatever. The other end will be here with you. Will that work?”

  “Maxolhx AIs do not have USB ports, Joe. However, hmmm, let me think about this. Ok, OK, mmm, yeah, maybe,” he mumbled to himself. “Yup. That might work. Might! Lots of variables to consider.”

  “Gosh, that has never happened before.”

  “Don’t be a smartass. This will be super-duper difficult.”

  “But no longer impossible. See? You should have more faith, Debbie Downer.”

  “Fine, Mister Ray of Sunshine. Tell me how you propose to get one end of a microwormhole into that facility so I can plug into the AI.”

  “Do it, um, however usually you do it. We just did the same sort of thing at the Bosphuraq moonbase. If you’re fishing for compliments, you can forget-”

  “As if I would care about a compliment from you. Dude, please. What do you mean, ‘however I usually do it’?”

  “You know, you steer the thing, and um,” I realized the problem. “Ah, shit.”

  “Egg-zactly! I never, as you stupidly said, ‘steer the thing’ except for very slow, very minor adjustments. Moving a microwormhole on its own causes the event horizon to- oh, why am I trying to explain this to you? It creates radiation, Joe. A tiny bit of radiation, but any radiation above the normal background level would be detected and set off alarms inside the factory. Besides, I can’t steer a microwormhole quickly enough for all the turns and ups and downs needed to get through the factory to where I need to access the AI. That is why Colonel Smythe had to carry the microwormhole into that moonbase, dumdum.”

  “Ok, uh, then use one of your bots to carry it. You can steer a bot, right?”

  “Nope.”

  “I call bullshit on that. Before Nagatha took over, you directly controlled all the bots on this ship. You made them walk all over, inside and outside the ship.”

  “Correct-a-mundo, Captain Obvious. The reason I can’t guide a bot to walk around in the factory is, I can’t contact a bot once it is inside the factory, which you would know if you had been paying attention at all. You dumdum.”

  “I was paying attention, you dumdum. The bot will be carrying a microwormhole that provides instantaneous, secure, undetectable communication between you and the bot. Duh. Do I have to explain everything to-”

  “Wrong again, Captain Oblivious! The microwormhole will not be open, until it is near an access point and I am ready to load my presence into the local AI. As soon as I expand the microwormhole’s event horizon, it will be detected, because- Well, there is no point explaining the physics to you. The microwormhole needs to remain in its most compact form until the last moment. Thus, I can’t use it to communicate with a bot, until after I no longer need it to control the bot. I will not bother to add ‘duh’ or ‘dumdum’ because I know you are already saying those things to yourself.”

  Damn it, he was right about that. I am a dumdum. “Ok, then, um. Hey! Bots are smart, right? Why can’t one of those damned things guide itself? You can load one of your subminds into-”

  “Nuh uh. No way, dude. None of our bots is that smart, and none of them have the capacity to contain a submind. If you are going to suggest I simply get a map of the factory and pre-program a bot for the route it needs to take, forget that nonsense. We may run into problems that require changing plans along the way. With the Merry Band of Pirates, I can guarantee we will need to change plans on the fly.”

  “Well, hell, then, there is no way to do it?”

  “I didn’t say there was no way. I do know of a mobile, semi-autonomous unit that is capable of transporting a microwormhole. Its model designation is Monkey Mark 1.”

  “Oh shit. You want one of us to go in there?”

  “Probably you should send two monkeys, Joe, in case one of them runs into serious trouble.”

  “I do not love this idea, Skippy.”

  “It is your idea, Joe.”

  “All right. Is there any way for a monk- a human, to get near an AI access point in that factory?”

  “There is only one way in that I know of. It’s a small thermal exhaust port-”

  Fantastic, we we
re finally making progress. If we could get a team of monkeys, I mean, Pirates, into the factory, we had a semi-realistic plan for how to steal a set of blank pixies.

  Unfortunately, we did not have a plan to get a team anywhere near the factory, because security around that planet was too tight. Skippy reviewed the details with me and I had to agree, it was simply, absolutely impossible for even a single human to get down to the surface of the planet where the factory was located. Skippy was not being helpful, it made him happy to see I agreed it was impossible to get into the factory, because that meant my whole idea was for nothing. Finally, I snapped at him. “Instead of telling me everything we can’t do, how about we try doing something useful, like, I don’t know. Maybe think up a way to break into that factory and steal a batch of blank, active pixies?”

  “Ok,” he laughed, “sure, why not? Does your plan involve elves riding unicorns who can instantly teleport from one place to another?”

  “No, it does not,” I snapped, but what he said reminded me of something, and it was bugging me that I couldn’t pull it from my foggy memory. “This isn’t getting us anywhere, I should be doing something useful,” I said as I stood up from my chair. When I got cranky like that, it was time to take a break. “Talk to you later, Skippy.”

  Working in the hydroponics gardens always made me feel better. Simms wasn’t there, both compartments were empty so I had the bay to myself. The tomatoes were growing well, just thinking about red, ripe tomatoes made my mouth water. We needed fresh vegetables and fruit to boost our morale, because living off canned, dried and irradiated food was already getting monotonous. Simms had been very smart to combat-load the Dutchman’s resupply, so that when we boosted from orbit much earlier than expected, we were not missing any items that were vital to our nutritional needs. The quantity of food stored in cargo bays was thin but we could survive on frozen orange juice for vitamin C, on pills to supply other vitamins and minerals, all that. Our diet was limited and bland, still it was way better than the MREs I had survived on way back in Nigeria, or the sludges of our first mission aboard the Dutchman.