The implants flashed as the man stared at her, his face sagging, before turning his attention back to his records.
“Maybe I have it,” he mumbled, clearly displeased. He nodded at his display. “There’s the list. What’s the number you’re looking for?”
Brit told him the registry number and the clerk nodded. “It’s there. We picked it up four hours ago.” He frowned at his list. “Looks like the autodoc is malfunctioning in this one. I’ve got another one with a clean bill of service.”
Brit straightened, remembering Cal’s broken hand. “Where’s the nearest medical kiosk?”
“Med kiosk?” the clerk asked, sounding irritated that she didn’t want to buy the pod. “I don’t know. There are a couple I guess. One is up near the administrative office and there’s another one down between two bars off the cargo docks.”
Brit reached out to pat the man’s cheek and he flinched. She pointed at him. “You need to lighten up.”
Turning, she quickly checked in with the local wayfinding net that had led her to the salvage business and pulled up a list of nearby medical kiosks. The clerk had been correct; the closest autodoc was two levels below, next door to a night club called Wandering Fury.
Interesting name, anyway, she thought, as she pushed her way through the crowded corridor for the nearest public lift.
Unlike the clean medical districts of the Cho where they had gone to find a doctor for Tim, the shipping district looked grimy to her. Every surface carried a patina of oil and dirt collected over years of freight moving in and out along with the humanity and poorly maintained drones that did the work. Walls looked cobbled together from various bits of ships and transport containers. Advertisements for sex or various drugs—including the hallucinogenic briki flower they’d synthesized on the Resolute Charity—covered the corridor walls. Street food vendors stained the deck above and below their carts with steam and drippings as they shouted for the attention of passersby.
Someone slid against her, brushing against her holster, and Brit remembered that she was going to need to ditch the weapon or find a security pass that allowed her to carry it. She cursed silently, not wanting to waste time getting to the club since it was her best lead yet; also knowing she wasn’t going to get far into a commercial zone with the weapon.
She continued to walk, scanning the edges of the corridor where people stood in small groups between the food vendors, looking for someone who met the profile of a data broker.
An access request tickled her Link. It was Andy. Pausing with her back to the corridor wall, Brit accepted the request as she continued to watch the faces of logistics workers and third-class passengers flow by, dragging luggage and other supplies.
<I’m here,> she said.
Sunny Skies was over twenty light seconds away, and she waited nearly a minute for the response, keeping a watchful eye on the crowds around her.
<We’re getting to the edge of comm range,> he said, voice sounding flat when the response finally came. <Figured I should check in with you before I couldn’t anymore. Have you found him?>
<I have a good lead. I just found his pod and I’m heading for the nearest medical kiosk now. I’ve got a problem with my handgun, though.>
Brit realized she should have said more, but she waited for Andy’s voice anyway. He probably would understand what she meant, he’d always been good at that.
<Right. Station security,> he said. <Hold on, let me see if Fugia can help. Did you already ask her?>
<No. I’ve been busy.>
<Sure,> Andy said. The lack of any emotion his voice told her exactly how furious he was with her. For him, withholding emotion meant he was done allowing himself to respond to something, and she couldn’t blame him. She had a task to accomplish and didn’t have time to think about anything else, even Andy and the kids. The truth was, she knew they were going to be okay. Compared to everything else that was happening, they might be in the safest place in Sol.
You keep telling yourself that.
Was that her thoughts or what she knew Andy would say? Someone had to catch Kraft and punish him for what he’d done, everything he’d done. She didn’t know how far back his involvement with Heartbridge reached, but she needed to find out. People like Kraft were the only way to tie the corporation to anything real. If Kraft couldn’t be flipped or made to talk, another one would arrive in his place, another layer of separation between crimes and accountability.
<Brit,> Fugia’s voice said sharply, all business. <I need your personal security token.>
<What? I’d be an idiot to give you that.>
<We don’t have time. You trust me, or you don’t. I need access to your Link’s admin system so I can manage the security override, otherwise, we might move out of range before it sticks.>
<Andy, are you still there?> Brit asked, biting at her lip, counting the seconds.
<I’m right here.>
Why did she ask that? Of course, he was still there. There shouldn’t have been any reason not to trust Fugia Wong, but she still hesitated. She could give up her security token now but had to remember to update it later.
<All right,> Brit said. <Sending.>
<Got it,> Fugia answered. <Hold on.>
Brit waited as the Link went quiet. A customs official in a Jovian Space Force uniform walked past, absorbed in his Link, but she turned her holstered-hip toward the wall all the same.
<You need to use a better root token set,> Fugia scolded. <Don’t include one that is a hash of your birthday.>
<Root tokens are the last thing I’m worried about right now,> Brit said. <Are you done yet?>
<I’m grabbing the latest passcodes from the JSF now. Almost done.> In another second, Fugia said, <There you go. You’re special agent on loan from the TSF performing anti-piracy enforcement. That should be easy enough to bluff your way through. You have a standard security allowance that includes personal weapons and access to their admin network. Anything else you need before I log out?>
<Give me a shower,> Brit deadpanned.
Waiting nearly a minute to get the answer to a joke took all the fun out of it, and Brit wished she hadn’t wasted time on it.
<I can shower you with abuse if you want. You probably don’t want that.>
<I need cash,> Brit said. <Enough to get a ship if necessary. If Kraft manages to get off the Cho, I don’t have any way to follow him.>
Fugia grunted. <Isn’t that what everybody wants?>
<We can just transfer her the funds,> Andy said.
<What’s the fun in that?> Fugia said. <Besides, I don’t want anything traceable between us and the Cho. It’s bad enough that we’re having this conversation right now. I’ll take care of it.>
<What are you going to do when you find Kraft?> Andy asked.
<Squeeze him,> Brit said. <I have a feeling he knows how this started, and where Heartbridge plans to go. The fleets at Clinic 46 and then at Europa mean they intend something big. We need to find out what that is. Ultimately, I think they’re playing Mars and Terra against each other, but this has to go beyond war profiteering. Why else would they be putting so much effort into AI development? Why sentience?>
<The cheapest way to control a bomb is strap somebody to it,> Andy said. <Advanced kamikazes.>
Brit sighted. <It’s such a waste.>
<What isn’t?>
<Since when did you become a nihilist?> Brit asked. <I depend on you for the terrible optimism.>
<You’ve always called me a pessimist.>
<That was a term of endearment. I know you don’t really mean it.>
<I don’t know anymore, Brit,> Andy said. The fatigue in his voice hit her unexpectedly. She blinked, feeling tears at the edges of her eyes.
<Look,> she said. <I think this is all for the best, what’s happened between you and me. I think it’s going to be better this way.>
Andy’s anger crossed the Link. <It’s not about me, Brit. It’s about Cara and Tim. They can’t depend on you.>
There it was. She bit her lip, letting her gaze jump around the crowd flowing by. Somehow, she wanted to believe they could depend on her in a greater sense, that she was focused on things that would benefit them. But Andy was right. They couldn’t depend on her where it counted. It was better that they figured that out now.
<I will be back, Andy. I promise you.>
<Don’t promise me anything.> Nothing else came and she wondered if he’d signed off. After a few more seconds, he came back. <Light lag is getting too bad. Fugia, did you make the transfer?>
Fugia cleared her throat and answered awkwardly, <Funds deposited. Thank TranSol Logistics for their generous contribution to the cause.>
<You’re going to be all right, Andy,> Brit said.
<You keep saying that. And maybe it’s going to be true. Do you want me to tell the kids anything?>
<Tell them I love them.>
<Right,> Andy said.
<I love you, Andy,> she said suddenly. <I always have. The best I can.>
There was another pause where she thought she had lost the Link again.
<I know, Brit,> he said. The signal warped, leaving a slight echo on his words. She lost a phrase, then heard: <—For Tim. You had better punish that fucker.>
The bad signal stretched his last word into flicker and then the Link closed. They were gone.
Brit took a deep breath and wiped her face. Her eyes were moist. She squeezed the bridge of her nose, breathing slowly, until the sound of Andy’s voice had faded from her mind. She squared her shoulders, checking herself quickly. The light armor was unchanged, encasing her in black iridescence. She set her hand on her pistol, then stepped into the crowd again, moving with a purpose toward the night club where she expected to find Cal Kraft.
CHAPTER FIVE
STELLAR DATE: 10.05.2981 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: HMS Resolute Charity
REGION: Departing Jupiter, Jovian Combine, OuterSol
Andy silenced the proximity alarms and brought up the Resolute Charity’s shield controls. With the holodisplay zoomed out to encompass the alert, Jupiter was the size of a basketball and Europa had long since become a speck.
The system highlighted an object burning on a trajectory that would intersect with his current flight plan. The sensors hadn’t verified a registry ping yet, though the mass profile matched a small transport ship. Unless it was headed for some unmarked location, it was too far out for its fuel capacity, meaning that whoever they were, they meant to reach the Resolute Charity.
<Lyssa,> Andy said. <Can you deploy your drones?>
<If I do that, we’ll lose them when we burn.>
Andy cursed under his breath. <Fran, are you still awake?>
<I’m here. We should have a registry return in about five minutes if it maintains its present course.>
<If it answers our ping, you mean.>
<I always hope people who venture into open space aren’t idiots, but I’ve been proven wrong before. This presents us with a couple problems I didn’t think through when we attached the ships. We need to coordinate fire between the two defense systems, and Sunny Skies is going to play havoc with your shield tuning.>
<Can you bring yours up, at least?>
<I’m running the simulation now. It looks like the problems are going to rise when we activate both shield systems at once. This is going to be a bigger problem than I can solve in two minutes.>
<We’ve got a bit of a cushion on the burn. Lyssa, we need to deploy the drones and be ready in the event that this thing is hostile. Without shields, we’re done.>
<I’ll deploy them in a defensive line,> Lyssa answered.
<We’re lucky it’s only one ship, honestly,> Fran said.
<I know.> Andy shifted his display to show the regular travel lanes out of Europa. They had been off the regular lanes for two days, moving to the transfer point where he would start the major burn for Uranus, where he’d planned an orbital maneuver to slingshot them out to Neptune. Andy set the astrogation computer on an adjustment using Saturn instead of Uranus, frowning as the fuel levels all came back too close to empty for comfort.
The holodisplay refocused on the Resolute Charity as a wave of icons separated from Sunny Skies and spread out in an evenly spaced arc around the two ships, matched velocity, and then widened their formation. Andy felt a small swell of pride as he watched Lyssa work.
<I’m still amazed you can do that,> he said.
<This is easy,> Lyssa said. <I’m trying to understand shield harmonics right now. It seems like it should be easier than trying different configurations.>
<I’ll take a look when I’m done with the defense systems,> Fran said. <We can probably get Fugia and Petral to help too. It might be a simple software thing.>
In another few minutes, Fran had achieved coordinated fire control between the Resolute Charity’s state-of-the-art attack systems and Sunny Skies’ cobbled-together defensive network. While the Resolute Charity had all the trappings of a hospital ship with apparent defense systems, its attack capability went much deeper than expected. A full menu of long-range missiles, drones, x-ray cannons and point-defense systems could encase the ship in what Fran liked to call a “hamster ball of death.” Only Andy had understood the reference.
Andy was alone on the Resolute Charity. The other option was for him to get across to Sunny Skies and dump the larger ship if the inbound vessel turned out to be the vanguard of a Heartbridge assault. That would mean losing their peace offering for Alexander, the SAI who awaited them at Proteus. There might be other ways to impress Alexander than a stolen ship, though. Caught between two unknowns, Andy tucked the idea away as a last resort.
In the meantime, he left the command console for the lockers back by the entrance to the command deck, fished out a set of light armor and pulled it on over his ship suit. The armor had limited EV capabilities and a helmet with a wide face shield designed more for external maintenance than defense. He selected a pulse rifle from the rack along with a bandoleer of multi-use grenades.
<You think you’re going to need all that?> Lyssa asked.
<I have every faith in you and your drones, but I’m always ready.>
<Andy,> Fran said. <We’ve got a return from their registry. It’s a small cargo transport from the Cho. Looks like they registered a flight plan for Europa and kept going. If the Cho was the last time they took on fuel, they’ll be nearly dry by the time we intercept.>
<Have we got point-to-point communication yet?>
<I wondered if you wanted to try that or wait until they contact us. I mean, we could call their flight plan evidence of hostile intent if you wanted to take care of this without bothering to talk to them.>
<If I was going to destroy them first, I wouldn’t bother looking for legal excuses.>
<I’m just saying,> Fran offered. <It never hurts to have a technical defense when the TSF come calling.>
With the suit in place, Andy walked back to the holodisplay and sat heavily in the chair, readjusting the armor where it jabbed him in the legs and abdomen.
<All right,> he said. <Let’s send a request. The suspense is killing me. Lyssa, can the drones send a target-lock verification like a missile? We should do that.>
<Not really,> the AI said, <But I can make something up.>
<Sounds good to me.>
<Sending the request,> Fran confirmed. She made small grunt. <Now that’s strange. I just got the ship’s general feed and I’m not seeing indicators of active environmental systems.>
Andy sat up straighter. <What’s the mass profile? Have we got a bomb on our hands?>
<Not that I can tell. Its velocity hasn’t changed since it came into range,> Fran said. <I just got the handshake on our message. They received, anyway.>
A few seconds passed as Andy waited for Fran to say more about the communications link. He switched the observation menu on his console from the navplan to the communications scrolls. One small wind
ow showed the close-range communications traffic as a series of thin graphs.
<Oh,> Lyssa said, sounding surprised.
<What?> Andy asked.
<It’s Xander.>
Andy blinked several times, not sure he had heard her correctly. <Xander from the Cho?>
<He’s requesting a visual display. Do you want to accept the request?>
<Wait,> Andy said. <Fran, this is the AI we met with on the Cho.>
<The guy who wanted you to steal the Resolute Charity?>
<That’s him.>
<If this were a Cruithne deal, now is about the time he would arrive to try and steal the ship from us.>
<That’s what I’m thinking,> Andy said, crossing his arms. <He’s in a transport ship. He can’t have much firepower. Lyssa, can he attack ship’s systems and force you out like you did to the other AI?>
<He can try. I don’t know how strong he is.>
<Petral and Fugia will be able to tell you how he might try to do that. Talk to them. I can talk to him and try to find out what he wants on the surface anyway. If he wants to come aboard, I need to know we’re going to be safe from him, or any other AIs with him.>
<I thought the AIs were on our side?> Fran asked sarcastically.
<And I hope that’s so. You know how I feel about hope.>
<I’m getting a follow-up request,> Fran said. <You ready to talk to him?>
Andy flexed his shoulders. <Let’s do it.>
The air above the holodisplay grew opaque and flashed, showing Andy a reconstruction of a small cockpit. The head and shoulders of the slim young man he had met on the Cho appeared in the window, brown eyes looking as mischievous as the first time they had met.
Xander’s brown eyes found Andy and he grinned.
“Captain Sykes,” he said, nodding. “I’m so pleased to see you. Is your Lyssa here as well?”
“I’m here,” Lyssa answered.
“How wonderful. I know I had explained to May Walton that I intended to stay in the Jovian Combine, but my plans have changed and I find myself traveling in the same direction as you. I’ve come to ask for a ride. But first I should say how pleased I am that you accomplished such a challenging task as stealing a Heartbridge dreadnought and disrupting their entire JC fleet.” He clapped, hands just visible below the edge of the window. “That’s truly something special.”