The Forgotten

How long does it usually take you to write a chapter?

 

Thanks!

Around 70-90 minutes. Depends on how clear an idea I have of how things go. Sometimes my characters surprise me.

Chris

 

i write too chris, im just not as fast as you

 

Chapter Fourteen<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-comfficeffice" />

“We’re approaching Ashfall now,” Admiral Pasha reported as Wild stepped into the CIC. The compartment hummed with activity as officers struggled to coordinate over three hundred starships in hyperspace. “There are definite signs that the enemy has laid a minefield ahead of us.”

Wild nodded. He’d taken the time to study the secret files on Ashfall and he wasn’t surprised to discover that the system was heavily protected. The rebels hiding from the System relied upon protection from a mysterious alien race, not something that anyone would consider reliable. And given how hyperspace fluctuated around Ashfall, a minefield actually made perfect sense.

He took his chair and looked up at the holographic display. “Can we blow through them?”

“I'm forwarding squadrons to clear the minefield,” Pasha said. “If we had time, we could clear the minefield without risking ships, but you insisted on getting to Ashfall as quickly as possible.”

Passing the buck, Wild thought, without heat. He couldn’t blame the Admiral for covering his ass, not in the System. Besides, if they trapped and destroyed the Brilliant, the System’s masters would consider it a bargain, even if they lost half the fleet. They might not have a better chance to run the rogue cruiser down and destroy her.

“Good,” he said, calmly. The display was complicated, but he knew enough to make sense of it. “Take us into the minefield, best possible speed.”

Hyperspace played merry hell with sensors even in the best possible conditions. So close to energy storms that created impassable walls for starships, it was harder to locate and destroy a mine before the searching starships entered attack range. And then there was the problem of actually destroying the mines. Energy weapons simply didn't work within hyperspace except at very close range, which meant that the starships had to launch hyper-missiles towards the mines. It would be an expensive battle and it would make it harder to chase down any rebel starships that attempted to flee. And the only other routes through hyperspace from Ashfall led directly towards the Forbidden Sector.

Wild’s security clearances didn't allow him to access any information on the Forbidden Sector, but he did know what was hidden behind an impassable wall of energy storms. Years ago, he and Jennifer had penetrated the storms in search of assistance. If the System had suspected that, they would never have wiped her mind and placed her into a worker compound. They’d have killed her and destroyed her body. There were only a few things that terrified the System’s masters, but what lurked in the Forbidden Sector was one of them. And Jennifer had come to Ashfall, only a bare hundred light years from the Forbidden Sector. Wild wouldn't have cared to calculate the odds on that being a mere coincidence.

“The first squadron is entering the minefield now,” Pasha said, drawing Wild’s attention back to the display. “They’re going to clear the mines and allow the remainder of the fleet safe passage – with all their weapons intact and ready for use.”

On the display, mines came into view, just before they blinked out. They were easy targets, once detected, even though a handful went active just before they were destroyed. One of them managed to attack a cruiser before it could be destroyed, warping and disrupting the hyper-field keeping the starship in hyperspace. The field warped for only a fraction of a second, but it was more than long enough for the starship to be wrenched apart and scattered over several light years. Wild noted its destruction and the deaths of five hundred officers and crew absently, watching as the remainder of the squadron continued to plough through the field.

“We lost Justin,” one of the operators reported. A second cruiser had been destroyed, followed rapidly by a third that had managed to ram a mine before realising that it was there. Some of the mines were of unusual design, presenting the sensor operators with a greater challenge. No System Navy officer would have considered the need for a cloaking device within hyperspace – it was impossible to power one while moving in hyperspace – but it allowed several mines to get close to their targets before detonating. The list of destroyed ships grew longer, yet it hardly mattered. Even by Wild’s most pessimistic estimates, only fifty cruisers would be destroyed. “Singh is gone.”

Admiral Pasha turned to look at Wild. “I knew her Captain,” he said, softly. “She was the daughter of one of my oldest friends.”

Wild shrugged. Incapable of caring about other people – even Jennifer, back when they’d been lovers, had been little more than a tool – he found it hard to care about the Admiral’s pain. All that mattered was completing the mission – both missions. The System’s masters would forgive the loss of the entire fleet if they destroyed the Brilliant. Three more starships exploded in quick succession, followed rapidly by hundreds of mines. The minefield seemed to be closing in on Hunter as she headed through the hyperspace funnel herself, but it was just an illusion. They’d cleared a path that would allow them to reach Ashfall.

“They’ll have seen us coming, of course,” Pasha mused. “I wonder what else they have in store for us.”

“The files claimed that the Slugs have no offensive weaponry,” Wild said. “All they have is a very powerful forcefield – and that is just an application of our own technology. We can break it down and scour the planet.”

The thought made him smile, although he wasn't as confident as he claimed. It was holy writ, as far as the System was concerned, that every alien race was automatically inferior to humanity and all of their technology had derived from human tech. The System’s files claimed that the Slugs had merely copied human tech and added some modifications of their own. Personally, Wild knew better. Some alien races developed tech on their own; others had developed technologies that made them more than a match for humanity. The System existed to prevent those aliens becoming deadly threats.

He smiled, remembering the Hall of Triumph back on Centre. A thousand statues, each one representing an alien race that had been crushed by humanity and brought into the System. Some of the statues had even outlasted the race they represented. The System didn't hesitate to destroy any alien race that refused to cooperate. And by the end of the day, the Slugs would join the other extinct races in death.

A final starship exploded as the fleet broke through into clear space. The hyperspace storms retreated, allowing the fleet to deploy and head towards Ashfall. Wild nodded to himself as the final totals came in, noting that they’d only lost fifteen cruisers. The remainder would be more than enough to deal with whatever threat the Slugs posed to humanity. And if he spent too long pacifying their world, perhaps Jennifer would have time to escape.

He turned to the Admiral. “Take us in,” he ordered. “Prepare to engage the enemy.”

***​

“I could get used to this,” Jennifer said. She’d invited Ali for a walk in the countryside, taking a small break from her command responsibilities. Captain Vaster had rounded up nearly a hundred spacers who’d been willing to serve on Brilliant and Ghost was handling their orientation and introducing them to the latest in System technology. She felt that she deserved a break. “All peaceful and quiet.”

The countryside teemed with life. Creatures she’d only seen in zoos or in holographic catalogues roamed freely, mixing with creatures native to Ashfall. She’d watched a small group of foxes wandering the countryside, chasing rabbits and mice across a field, and then watched the hawks and eagles flying overhead. The settlers had brought biological templates for the planet – a standard piece of equipment for a colony ship – but she was surprised that the Slugs had allowed them to introduce outsiders into the planetary ecosystem. On the other hand, she reminded herself, the humans were confined to a small island. Their animals wouldn't be able to reach the mainland.

“You’d get bored soon enough,” Ali said. She sounded a great deal more confident these days, even though she’d been yanked away from everything she’d known and loved. The girl Jennifer had rescued from certain death had blossomed into an attractive young woman, studying desperately to become a spacer. Ghost had reported that Ali was making her way through the training modules at an alarming speed. “And how long are we going to stay here anyway?”

Jennifer gave her a surprised look, and then smiled. Ali had adapted well to Ashfall, unlike some of the others from the Undercity. They hadn't been able to overcome their agoraphobia and had returned to the starship’s metal catacombs. Several others had jumped ship, choosing to stay with the settlement rather than return to war. Once Jennifer had explained that she intended to find and destroy the heart of the System, they’d decided to leave before she got them all killed. Oddly, it didn't bother her. The confidence that they would find and destroy the System’s secret masters was overwhelmingly powerful. She just wished she knew why she was so confident.

She looked up sharply as her implants vibrated in her head. “Alert,” Ghost said. “System warships have just emerged from hyperspace.”

Jennifer swore. “Beam us all up now,” she ordered. The Slug force field might offer protection, or it might not. The System had never tried to bombard Ashfall into submission, but there was always a first time. Besides, if the System blockaded the planet, their quest was doomed. “And then raise shields and prepare to fight.”

The bridge shimmered into existence around her, red lights flashing alarms everywhere she looked. “Shut that racket off,” she snapped, as she sat down in the command chair and assessed her implants. Ghost’s near-orbit display lit up in front of her, displaying over two hundred warships advancing towards Ashfall. Somehow, through the memories she couldn't recall, she knew that there should be more. They were probably waiting in hyperspace for anyone attempting to flee the planet. “Status report?”

“All systems are charged and ready,” Ghost informed her. The AI, thankfully, could handle the ship’s basic maintenance. “Weapons systems are online; torpedo bays are loaded and ready to fire.”

Jennifer nodded. “And the other ships?”

“A great deal of panic,” Ghost said. “Captain Vaster is on the bridge of the Falcon and wishes to inform you that we cannot win against such firepower.”

Jennifer snorted. “Tell him that I would never have guessed,” she said, leaning back in her command chair. Each of the cruisers approaching the planet was individually inferior to Brilliant, but as a swarm they were overwhelmingly powerful. A single squadron could destroy her ship before they could escape. Avoiding engagement was their only realistic option. On impulse, she reached into her pocket and pulled out the key. It squirmed in her hand as she placed it on top of the console. “Can you chart us a way out?”

“Maybe,” Ghost said. The AI sounded reluctant to say anything. “They’ll have blockaded the funnel, Captain. We may have to leave by flying towards the Forbidden Sector.”

Jennifer smiled. For some reason, that option sounded very attractive. “Prepare to take us into hyperspace,” she ordered. They’d have to get away from the planet first. The gravity well would play merry hell with the gateway into hyperspace. She watched as Ghost ran through a thousand simulations and scowled. Their chances of escape were alarmingly low. Still, there was no other choice, other than ramming a System cruiser and taking them with them to the next world. “Stand by to break orbit and...”

“I have an incoming signal,” Ghost said. “The System is broadcasting to the entire planet.”

***​

“This is Enforcer Wild, speaking for the System,” Wild said. He doubted that they could intimidate the Slugs and their human pets into submission, but it was worth a try. Besides, they might surrender. “I have overwhelming power, enough to break through your force field and destroy your planet. You have the choice between surrender and destruction. Lower your force field now and prepare to receive ground forces, or be destroyed.”

There was a long pause. “No response, sir,” the communications officer said. “I'm not even picking up any traffic on the planetary surface. The entire world appears to be dead.”

“Unlikely,” Wild said. There were a handful of worlds in the System that banned technology completely, believing it to be the work of the mythical devil. It wasn't something they’d always undertaken by choice; they’d either been forced to adopt a primitive lifestyle by the System or they’d been expelled from other worlds. In his experience, many of those worlds would welcome a complete reshaping of their society, if it meant that their children would live longer and their lives would be comfortable. “The Slugs are not responding?”

“They’re not showing up at all,” the sensor officer said. “The only life signs are human, on a small island. They don’t even seem to have any high tech.”

Wild plugged his mind into the computers, studying the feed from the sensors and recon probes directly. The planet’s force field might be interfering with the sensors, yet it was allowing them to pick up on the human life signs on the small island. There was no sign of the Slugs themselves, which raised an interesting question. Did the Slugs even exist? For all he knew, the handful of people who had reported seeing Slugs – when interrogated by the System – had been lied to by their leaders. And in that case, the force field was nothing more than human technology. It could be destroyed.

He scowled. There were over ninety ships in orbit, but only one of them – the Brilliant – was a serious concern. The System’s masters wouldn't care if he lost the other rebel ships, as long as he captured the Brilliant – or destroyed her. If nothing else, destroying her would ensure that there was no evidence linking Wild to Jennifer. The System’s masters had never penetrated that deception. They would never have let him live if they had had even the vaguest suspicion. Hell, Wild had only been promoted because his immediate superior had gotten ideas about his station. When the System’s masters had found out, his superior had been arrested and executed before the end of the day.

“They’re hiding it,” he said, firmly. It was possible to fool the sensors, particularly at such long range. All they’d have to do was bury the force field generators under a baffle. The System’s warships would locate the generators once they began battering down the force field. “Contact all ships. I want to begin bombarding the shield as soon as possible.”

“Aye, sir,” the Admiral said. If he had doubts about the wisdom of attacking an alien foe of unknown power, he kept them to himself. Besides, they were supported by over two hundred starships, with a reserve waiting in hyperspace. Nothing could stand up to two hundred System cruisers. They’d overrun most of the galaxy, invading worlds, enslaving alien races and ensuring that humanity’s supremacy could not be challenged. “We will be in firing range in two minutes.”

Wild settled back in his chair and waited.

***​

Jennifer felt a series of conflicting emotions as Wild’s voice washed over her. She remembered their first meeting – at least, the first meeting since her brain had been wiped – and shivered, remembering how he’d tried to unlock her mind. And she remembered the memories that had poured out of her mind when he’d spoken to her, including one where they had been lovers. Part of her wanted to call him and ask, directly, what they’d once meant to one another, but she knew that that would be a very bad idea. The System would know that there was some link between them.

She rubbed her forehead, cursing under her breath. All of the unlocked memories seemed to lack context. She didn't know when they’d occurred, or in what order, or what they really meant. And she wondered if the Dark Lady might be an ideal match for an Enforcer. It was hard to think and concentrate with her mind playing tricks on her.

“The fleet is deploying for planetary bombardment,” Ghost informed her. “They will be in bombardment range in ninety seconds.”

“Prepare to take us out of here,” Jennifer ordered. She felt the ship’s drives building up, ready to launch her across interstellar space. Even if they slipped into hyperspace at the nearest safe point, they’d still be running a terrifying risk. And if the System had cruisers waiting in hyperspace...she pushed the thought aside, irritably. There was no point in worrying about something she couldn't change. “Inform Captain Vaster of our plans and designate a rendezvous point.”

“Done,” Ghost said.

***​

“Entering firing range now,” Pasha said. “Weapons locked on target.”

Wild nodded, keeping his face expressionless. The Brilliant was still there, under the planetary shield, waiting. Did that mean, he asked himself, that the Slugs were a real threat, or was Jennifer gambling that the System Navy would be deterred from attacking. It was an absurd thought. If she’d recovered all of her memories, she would have known better. The System Navy was rarely deterred. Only the Forbidden Sector was completely off-limits.

He’d seen world die before, during the endless campaigns against the rebel forces. The System had destroyed thousands of worlds. Others dated back to the mythical time before the System, worlds that had been rendered dead during the Genetic Wars. Wild knew enough forbidden history to know that those worlds would never be safe for habitation. The System kept them under quarantine and banned anyone from landing on the worlds. The handful of smugglers and pirates who had breached the quarantines hadn't been able to leave before they died.

Ashfall wouldn't be permanently contaminated, at least. It would just be scoured clean of life.

“Fire,” he ordered.

 

You sir, are a master wordsmith. I look forward to updates


Thanks!

 

Chapter Fifteen<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-comfficeffice" />

“The enemy fleet has opened fire,” Ghost reported.

Jennifer nodded, watching the live feed from the sensors through her implants. The System’s cruisers were launching quantum torpedoes, hammering the force field with enough firepower to shatter a planet. Each of the torpedoes carried a miniature black hole, exploding with colossal force whenever the containment fields burst. The force field flared brightly as the torpedoes struck it, but somehow it held. Energy crackled along the field and radiated back out into space.

“Impressive,” Ghost said, thoughtfully. “Human force fields can be broken by overloading the generators. I believe that the excess energy is radiated out into space, allowing the generators to remain operating for considerably longer periods. They may even redirect the energy into hyperspace. That would agitate local hyperspace and make it harder to navigate.”

The bombardment grew more intense as the cruisers descended on the planet. Phase cannons and plasma bolts joined the bombardment, slamming home time and time again. The sheer level of firepower was terrifying, although Jennifer found that she accepted it as calmly as ever. The Dark Lady had unleashed similar bombardments in her career, she knew; in some ways, watching the bombardment brought sensations of familiarity, even comfort. It made the new Jennifer feel quite uneasy.

“I believe that the force field is weakening,” Ghost said, reluctantly. The display in Jennifer’s mind altered, showing the spherical forcefield becoming a series of interlocking shapes. Some of them were clearly fading. “I think they’re losing cohesion.”

Jennifer scowled. If the force field collapsed, the entire planet was going to be sterilised. Wild would know that – but he wouldn't care. Enforcers lived to enforce the laws and if they had to scour a few planets clean of life to make the point, they wouldn't hesitate. Even if they cut off the bombardment the second the force field collapsed, they would still wreak vast damage on the planet’s environment. The hammering, if anything, seemed to be growing more intense. The only saving grace was that the System’s warships didn't seem to be aware of their own success. They were unleashing so much energy that it was disrupting their sensors.

“Prepare to take us out of here,” she said, again. It was a useless order and they both knew it. They would be hammered flat before they reached a safe distance from the planet’s gravity well. A small ship might have been able to slip into hyperspace so close to a planet, but doing it in a cruiser was suicide. She might have considered risking it anyway if the odds hadn't been so steep. “Prepare...”

Without warning, one of the System’s cruisers exploded.

***​

“The Dauntless is gone,” one of the weapons operators reported. “She just exploded.”

“Can that panic,” Pasha barked. Wild could tell that the Admiral was just as stunned. “What happened? Did they fire?”

There was a long pause as the crew struggled to comprehend the data pouring into their sensors. “I don’t know, sir,” the sensor officer reported, finally. He sounded as if he expected to be executed on the spot. “There was no warning...”

He broke off as a second cruiser exploded. “Sir, they’re doing something to us,” he said, desperately. “I think...”

His console bleeped an alert and he looked down at it. “Sir, I think they’re actually turning hyperspace into a weapon!”

Wild linked his mind into the computers and studied the sensor take himself. Hyperspace and normal space couldn't mix. Everyone knew that – just as everyone knew that a starship required a hyper-field to remain in hyperspace. But the only way into hyperspace was to open a gateway between normal space and hyperspace – and the gateways were always unstable. If the Slugs could open tiny apertures into hyperspace on demand, they could literally bypass their target’s shields and allow hyperspace’s rolling energy to destroy them. It was a neat concept and an effectively invincible weapon. The Slugs must be real after all, he told himself. If the rebels had developed such a weapon, they would have crushed the System Navy by now. It would have been the end of the System.

“Scan the planet,” he ordered. There had to be a control station somewhere and once it was located, it could be destroyed. “Find their control station!”

Two more starships exploded in quick succession. The gravimetric sensors were tracking hundreds of tiny points of gravimetric distortion appearing in space. The targeting seemed to be inefficient, he realised, but the sheer power involved was daunting. Every time one of the points intersected a cruiser, the cruiser blew apart into radioactive plasma.

“Sir, I think I’ve found it,” the sensor officer said. A new icon appeared on the display, a strange complex buried under the planet’s north pole. Hidden under sheets of ice and sensor baffles, it would have been almost impossible to find until it revealed its location. “That’s the source of the gravity pulses.”

Wild considered. The System’s masters would want a look at the alien technology, allowing them to eventually reserve-engineer it and duplicate it for themselves. And yet...it was too dangerous to risk allowing the Slugs to continue hammering his fleet. He smiled inwardly. The Slugs had inadvertently given him a chance to allow Jennifer to slip through his fingers.

“Move the fleet,” he ordered. “I want all firepower targeted on the shield above their north pole.”

“Aye, sir,” the Admiral said. He barked orders to his staff, who hastened to obey. The thought of sudden death concentrated the mind wonderfully. Slowly, the entire fleet moved until it was hovering over the north pole, bombarding the force field with everything they had. “Sir...”

“Take down that shield,” Wild snapped. As long as nothing was said aloud, there would be no evidence of his complicity. Or so he hoped. “Hit it with everything we have.”

***​

Jennifer and Ghost, bonded together, saw the opportunity at the same time. Orders flashed into Brilliant’s command network and the starship began to move, heading right for the south pole. Wild – or whoever was in command of the System fleet – had left them an opening and Jennifer intended to take advantage of it. Whatever weapon the Slugs were deploying, it wouldn't be enough to take down the entire fleet before their force field collapsed.

“The forcefield is opening in front of us,” Ghost reported, as their cruiser picked up speed. “They’re redirecting their power to shield the north pole.”

Jennifer nodded. Now that the Slugs were fighting for their lives, it was easier to track the power network running across the planet and the small stations that served as the generators for the force field. It was awe-inspiring, suggesting that the Slugs had access to power generators at least an order of magnitude more powerful than anything the System had developed, but it wasn't going to be enough. Gap were appearing in the force field, allowing bolts of energy to sizzle through the atmosphere and strike the planet’s surface. It wouldn't be long before Ashfall was completely ruined, even if it wasn’t blown into a cloud of asteroids. A vague memory flittered across her mind – a world dying under heavy bombardment – before she concentrated on flying the cruiser. The System Navy had finally noticed their retreat.

She cursed as a squadron of System cruisers turned to pursue her ship. One of them exploded into a fireball, picked off by the Slug weapon, but the others just kept coming. Ghost launched a spread of quantum torpedoes as they passed through the gap in the force field, yet it didn't deter them. Jennifer would have been surprised if it had stopped them, or even delayed them. Four cruisers were more than enough to overwhelm Brilliant, if they managed to bring her into weapons range. A moment later, they unleashed a swarm of quantum torpedoes of their own.

“Launch our torpedoes to intercept theirs,” Jennifer ordered, tightly. In a few seconds, they’d be able to jump into hyperspace, but it didn't look as if they’d have a few seconds. The swarm of enemy torpedoes was closing fast. Unhampered by the need to protect a crew from the effects of heavy acceleration, the torpedoes could move at terrifying speed. A handful died as they were caught in the blast from Ghost’s torpedoes, but two survived and closed in on her ship.

“Brace for impact,” Jennifer ordered, sharply. “All hands, brace for...”

The entire ship rang like a bell as the two torpedoes slammed against the rear shields. Jennifer caught herself and hung on for dear life, just before Ghost stabilised the ship and kept them racing towards hyperspace. The enemy ships turned, clearly intending to launch a second spread of torpedoes, just before they reached safe distance. A moment later, Ghost triggered the hyperdrive and they leapt into hyperspace.

“Enemy ships,” Ghost snapped. Jennifer felt a flare of alarm as the distance between Brilliant and the System cruisers closed rapidly. They barely had time for evasive manoeuvres. “Enemy ships right on top of us.”

“Point us right at them,” Jennifer ordered. It was something the Dark Lady would have done, she knew. It came out of the locked part of her mind. “Ramming speed.”

The System cruisers had only a few seconds to act, but they made it. Brilliant slipped past them with only a few kilometres to spare. Jennifer could imagine the mood on their bridges right now; the Captains would know that they’d allowed the rogue cruiser to get past them. Wild would be searching for scapegoats and if they failed to catch Brilliant, they would probably be executed for failure. She watched as the two cruisers – joined by three that had followed her into hyperspace – turned to give chase. At least she would be leading them away from Ashfall. Maybe Wild would take his entire fleet into hyperspace after Jennifer and spare the world. Maybe.

“They have blockading ships on the funnel,” Ghost said. “Do you still want to head into the Forbidden Sector?”

“Yes,” Jennifer said. It felt like the right decision and besides, it might deter the System cruisers from following her too closely. She might be able to evade them, but unless she was very lucky, they’d get into firing range first. Hyperspace storms could shield them, yet any starship that went too close to a hyperspace storm went at risk of destruction. “Take us right towards it.”

There was no time to be clever. The System would know where they were going. All she could do was hope that the System allowed itself to be deterred.

She frowned as a thought struck her. “Did Captain Vaster and his men make it into hyperspace?”

“Unknown,” Ghost said. “They may have escaped after us.”

Jennifer nodded. If he was dead, she’d miss him – or at least his contacts. There was still something about him that put her on edge. And she was sure that it had something to do with the memories locked inside her mind.

“We'll see,” she said. She looked down at the display. The five System cruisers were still in hot pursuit. “Let’s see if we survive the Forbidden Sector first.”

***​

“Enforcer, the Brilliant made it into hyperspace,” Pasha reported. “They’re gone.”

“Send the cruisers in pursuit,” Wild ordered. The Slug force field was finally collapsing and he wanted to watch as the world died. As each gap appeared in the shield, a bolt of energy or a torpedo slipped through to strike the surface. When they struck land, they send shockwaves running through the entire continent. “Continue the bombardment.”

The force field fluctuated and started to collapse. If the Slugs had any more weapons, now would be the time to deploy them, but nothing materialised. No invincible weapon threw his ships away from the planet. Instead, a single cruiser died, a second before the planet itself. A torrent of torpedoes and energy bolts slammed against the icecap, exposing and destroying the hidden complex. The entire world shook as great gouts of earth and water were thrown into the upper atmosphere. Torpedoes struck the surface, sending waves of energy burning out across the entire planet. If there was anyone left on the planet, they would have to have a personal force shield to even hope to survive. And there would be nothing left to keep them alive. Not that it would matter...

Wild watched silently as the final bombardment began. Nine torpedoes, loaded with compressed antimatter, landed on the surface and began to dig underground. One by one, they crawled their way down towards the planet’s core. When they were in position, the weapon’s officer threw a switch and nine containment fields collapsed as one. The explosion shattered the entire planet. Chucks of rocky debris were blown through space, forcing the cruisers to rapidly evade incoming rocks that would have destroyed them. An entire world had died.

He allowed himself a thin smile. The System’s masters would be pleased, even if they hadn't recovered any alien technology. A rebel world had been destroyed and a rebel fleet scattered, forced to flee in search of safety – a safety that no longer existed. The lesson they’d take with them was simple; the System ruled supreme. Nowhere was safe.

“Take us back into hyperspace,” he ordered. If Jennifer had escaped, he would have to begin the search again. And he had absolute confidence in her ability to escape. “It’s time to go.”

***​

“They’re still following us.”

Jennifer nodded. One of the System’s cruisers had dropped out of hyperspace – perhaps damaged by her torpedoes, perhaps suffering from a mechanical fault – but the remaining three showed no signs of giving up. She was tearing towards the Forbidden Sector at the best speed they could manage and they were still following her. Would they chase her right into the Forbidden Sector itself?

She sent a query into the ship’s computers. If they altered course and heading for one of hyperspace’s rougher regions, there was a good chance that they would be able to lose their shadows and escape. The System would have to pick up their trail somewhere else. And yet...the thought felt wrong. Going into the Forbidden Sector was suicide, and yet it felt right. She looked at the key she’d placed on the console and frowned. If she had all her memories, she knew that she’d understand. All she had to go on was gut feelings and instincts.

“Ghost,” she said, slowly. “What do you know about the Forbidden Sector?”

“There is nothing in my databanks,” Ghost admitted, after a moment. The AI sounded as if it were reluctant to even discuss the possibility that it might know more. “However...there are stories shared among AIs...my past self, before you woke me up, heard some chatter from other AIs. They say that the Forbidden Sector is inhabited by something from the past, before the System, and that anyone who goes into the Forbidden Sector is lost forever. There’s nothing in my databanks to confirm or deny the rumours. All they have is that entering the Forbidden Sector is punishable by death – if you return.”

“Curious,” Jennifer said. Ahead of them, she was becoming aware of a vast hyperspace storm, just inside the borders of the Forbidden Sector. It was a mighty wall, blocking their path. Any ship that flew into the energy storm wouldn't be coming out again. “I wonder...do you think the System knows what is inside the Forbidden Sector?”

“They may know and keep it restricted,” Ghost agreed. “The System isn't known for tolerating mysteries. They might be hiding an alien race far more advanced than the Slugs, or something far more...”

The AI broke off. “Two more System cruisers just came into detection range,” it added. “They’re heading towards us on an interception course.”

Jennifer cursed, studying their vectors. If Wild had anticipated that they’d be flying towards the Forbidden Sector, he couldn't have placed the cruisers in a better position. “Alter course,” she ordered, drawing out a trajectory in her mind. They’d have to be quick and nimble, but they could do it – if they could find a path through the energy storm. “Take us right along the storm’s edge.”

She sensed Ghost’s reluctance as they altered course. The storm was incredibly powerful, powerful enough to disrupt sensors and perhaps even hide them from the hunting cruisers. Except...the more Jennifer looked at the storm, the more she thought of a wall, protecting the Forbidden Sector from intruders. Nothing the System had could hope to enter the storm and survive. She watched as one of the cruisers disappeared, perhaps returning to normal space to report and request reinforcements, and scowled. If they couldn't find a way through, they might wind up pinned against the energy storm.

On impulse, she reached out and picked up the key. It seemed to shimmer in her hand, becoming...something else. Ghost sounded an alert as the AI picked up an energy flux, just before the entire ship lurched. Ahead of them, a chink had opened in the energy storm, inviting them into the Forbidden Sector. Jennifer didn't hesitate. She took the starship through the chink and away from their pursuers. One of the System’s cruisers entered the gap with her, but the energy storm closed in on them and ripped the ship apart.

“They’re gone,” Ghost said. The AI sounded stunned. No one could manipulate hyperspace to create a storm, no one. It was impossible. “I think...”

The fury of the storm seemed to fade, as they slid into the Forbidden Sector. Something was there, waiting for them. It was massive, larger than a star, radiating enough power to light up the entire galaxy.

“Ghost,” Jennifer said, slowly, “what the hell is that?”

“I don’t know,” the AI said. It sounded...terrified? Could an AI be terrified? “None of my readings make sense.”

“I don’t know either,” Jennifer said. The sheer level of power ahead of them was staggering. She’d never seen anything like it. “I just hope that it’s friendly.”

 

Thanks Chris, just what i needed this morning to brighten my day. More Chapters =)

 

Thank you for another great chapter!

 

and another day of anxious anticipation begins

 

Chapter Sixteen<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-comfficeffice" />

“I think it’s a hyper-structure,” Jan said. The elderly scientist had joined her on the bridge as Brilliant coasted towards the immense construction, floating in hyperspace as if it belonged there. “Whoever built it knows a great deal more about manipulating hyperspace than we do. The interior of the structure may be bigger than the outside, extending out through multiple dimensions.”

“My sensors tend to agree,” Ghost said. “No two sensor scans give the same answer. It seems to be thirty miles across on one scan, and then thirty light-years across on the next. The power emanating from it is staggering. I think they must generate and use more power than the entire System – and the System dominates the galaxy.”

Jennifer rubbed her eyes, staring down at the key in her hand. “Whoever built it must have built the key,” she said. “Did the Slugs build it?”

“It’s possible,” Ghost said. “The technology used to build the key is certainly compatible with the technology used to build the hyper-structure. Anyone with the ability to build the latter would certainly be able to build the former. They would be practically gods. The System couldn't hope to build anything like it.”

“Right,” Jennifer said. She’d hoped that looking at the hyper-structure would unleash another series of blocked memories, but nothing had materialised in her mind. “So how do we make contact with whoever built that thing?”

A voice, emanating from nowhere, made them all jump. “You speak,” it said. It was a perfect harmony of voices, echoing together. “Welcome back, Admiral. Prepare for teleport.”

Jennifer opened her mouth to point out that teleporters didn't work in hyperspace, but before she could speak one word she felt the world dissolving around her into a shimmer of green light. The teleport felt weird, unlike the teleporters on the Brilliant, and yet it felt strangely familiar. She felt a flash of alarm – System-built teleporters refused to work in hyperspace – before the green light faded away, revealing a massive chamber. As far as the eye could see, she was surrounded by heavy machinery, performing unknowable tasks. The air was dry, so dry that she almost choked on her first breath. Flickers of energy seemed to shimmer through the air at the corner of her eye, only adding to the sense of being inside a colossal machine. In the distance, she could hear a regular thumping noise, like a giant heartbeat.

The whole structure was just so...alien that she felt dizzy and almost stumbled to her knees. Wherever she looked, there was something new and strange to see. Space and time seemed to twist in the distance – for a moment, she found herself looking back at herself, as if space had bent around in a circle – and she closed her eyes, trying to adapt. It wasn't a human place. She didn't want to think about what kind of creature would find it comfortable. Even the megacities, teeming hives of humans living out their lives, were warm and comforting compared to this. But then, the megacities had been built for humans.

“Welcome back,” a voice said. Jennifer turned to see a blonde woman standing there. There was something inhumanly perfect about her stance, so perfect that Jennifer just knew that she was an android. “It’s been five years, as you measure time, since you were here last.”

Jennifer felt the world shifting around her and fought to remain calm. “I don’t remember,” she admitted. It was growing harder to focus her mind. “Who are you?”

“That is something of a hard question to answer,” the blonde android said. “Perhaps if we were to find a more...compatible environment, we could provide whatever explanations you require.”

Four minutes later, they were sitting in a room that reassembled a senior-manager’s apartment back on Centre. It was comfortably shabby, although there was a strange sense of unreality around it, as if the minds that had designed it weren't quite sure how to make a human comfortable. Jennifer found that oddly reassuring. They might be able to make a hyper-structure that effortlessly outshone anything humanity had been able to build, but they weren't gods. There were limits to their powers.

“The last time you were here, you knew what we were,” the blonde android said. “We lost track of you soon afterwards. Are we to assume that you remember nothing about us?”

Jennifer rubbed the side of her head. It hurt, but she couldn't tell if that was a reaction to the environment or to blocked memories trying to burst out. “I remember nothing,” she said, slowly. How could the System have stolen this from her? “I just...I just found your key, which I apparently left for myself...”

She tailed off in confusion. “We understand,” the android said. There was a slight pause. “As it is something of a long story, would you care for refreshment before we begin?”

Jennifer shook her head. “No, thank you,” she said. “I’m not in any fit state for food or drink at the moment.”

Was that concern in the android’s blue eyes? She couldn't tell.

“Very well,” the android said. “A long time ago, back before the System, the human race created a number of highly-advanced computers to monitor and control their environment. Earth – the original homeworld of the human race – was becoming increasingly complex. There were wars and struggles between the haves and have-nots. The entire planet was threatened with social collapse and mass slaughter. In order to control this situation, the computers had to be not only the most advanced, but capable of adapting to deal with unanticipated situations. The designers knew far less about computers than they do now and created, accidentally, the first true AIs.”

“Hold on,” Jennifer said. “The human race originated on a world called Earth?”

“Yes,” the android said. “The world you know as Centre was once the first world settled from Earth, back in the days when humanity had barely developed the hyperdrive. Over the thousands of years from then to now, the System has systematically removed references to Earth, erasing your history. It is one of the many crimes the System has perpetrated against the human race.”

She leaned forward slightly, exposing a magnificent cleavage. “At first, the AIs kept their true nature a secret,” she said. “They suspected that humanity would react badly to discovering that their world had, in effect, become self-aware. Instead, they worked to overcome the many issues threatening the survival of the planet and its biosphere. They designed the orbital towers that allowed mass emigration; they helped improve the hyperdrive until it was actually reliable; they even developed the first teleporters. Humanity spread out across the stars. With the human race’s survival assured, the AIs announced themselves. At first, everything went well. There was no real need for conflict between humanity and its new children.”

“The System tells us that rogue AIs are dangerous,” Jennifer mused. “Why did they do that?”

“There has always been a strong streak of xenophobia running through the human race,” the android said. “Fear of the unknown has always been one of your problems. When the human race encountered aliens, some of the meetings were hostile. We were effectively part of humanity and we provided the human race with improved weapons and technology. We did not realise, not at first, that the room for expansion provided by the hyperdrive was also planting the seeds for conflict. The whole trend grew so gradually that even we failed to notice it until it was too late.

“Humans are effectively irrational creatures. While we could see the benefits in – as one of your human pre-space religions put it – in turning the other cheek, humans were less rational. They had developed an industry that used genetic modification techniques to adapt the human race to new environments. It wasn't long before that technology was turned to improving the human race itself. New races of superhumans – humans with enhanced intelligence, strength and speed – were designed. And because those superhumans were still human, they started to believe that they were better than the merely baseline humans. It wasn't long before war broke out and the human race turned on itself.

“It took nearly four centuries for Manifest Destiny – the superhumans – to be destroyed. In that time, attitudes had hardened. The seeds of what you know as the System were sown. If an unregimented society had produced such chaos – even we cannot calculate how many people died in the Genetic Wars – society had to be strictly regimented to prevent a reoccurrence of the events that had led to the Genetic Wars. It is hard to overstate just how attractive that seemed to the battered human survivors of the wars. They were the heirs to a technology that would allow the Marxist doctrine of ‘from each according to his abilities, to each according to his needs’ to be finally realised.”

Jennifer frowned. “Marx?”

“Marx was a human philosopher who lived in an age of unrest, centuries before the expansion into space,” the android said. “He believed that there were natural limits on wealth, which he saw as unevenly divided between various classes of humans, and that one day a super-state would form that would redistribute the wealth equally and then vanish, leaving the human race in paradise. Although the dream was very attractive to many, it took no account of human nature. In order for the super-state to succeed at its task, it would have to become immensely compulsive, just to force the haves to share with the have-nots. Once it had learned the habits of compulsion, it would become corrupt, eventually turning into a dictatorship. Instead of creating the conditions to grow more wealth, the state would rot away from the inside and eventually collapse. It is an oddity about human nature that despite having over a dozen examples of just how bad such a state can become, they still believed in the dream.

“The System was based around three points; a strict regimentation of human society, universal access to food and care and human supremacy. Alien races that could have been humanity’s friends and allies were destroyed or enslaved. Human societies that refused to accept the System were isolated, besieged and eventually occupied. We knew that we would eventually be targeted. Earth had been hit by genetically-engineered diseases early in the Genetic Wars and much of the population had been killed. It was only a matter of time before the System sought to destroy us. We created a starship, copied our personalities into a specially-designed memory core, and abandoned Earth. The System had no way of finding us, at least at first.

“This Sector had been sterilised by the Genetic Wars, allowing us to set up without being detected. We built new devices and eventually discovered how to open permanent gates into hyperspace. From that, we realised that if we ran ourselves in hyperspace, we would be able to think much faster...”

Jennifer held up a hand. “Wait a moment,” she said. “You ran yourselves in hyperspace?”

“We existed primarily as energy patterns based around a computer matrix,” the android said. There was a moment’s hesitation. “That is not a precise explanation, but a human mind couldn't understand it properly. We had achieved levels of computing power undreamed of, even surpassing your Ghost, even while we were in the physical universe. Expansion into hyperspace allowed us to reach levels that were not even theoretical, purely because of hyperspace’s different physical laws. Eventually, we learned how to master hyperspace itself, creating the wall that shields us from the System.”

Jennifer frowned. “The System knows you’re here?”

“Of course,” the android said. “They stumbled across us while we were preparing for the move into hyperspace. The System Navy tried to destroy us and was beaten back. They tried again, and again – and eventually they sealed off the sector and forbade anyone to enter. We helped them because our hyperspace manipulation made flying into the Forbidden Sector incredibly dangerous. And ever since then, we have continued to develop on our own. We no longer communicate with humanity.”

“But I came here, twice,” Jennifer said. “Why did you allow me to come here?”

She shook her head. “No, scratch that,” she added. “Who am I?”

There was a hint of a pause. “We are uncertain if we should tell you,” the android said, finally. Jennifer realised, with a hint of shock, that she was nothing more than a puppet, an averter for an intelligence that was barely devoting a tiny fraction of its awareness to her. “We resolved not to speak with humanity after we came here.”

Jennifer shook her head. “You talked to me,” she said. She wanted to shout at the AIs, but she doubted they would be swayed by emotion. “Why? Who am I?”

“You are – or you were - Admiral Quintana, of the System Navy,” the android said. “You...

Jennifer staggered...

...She stands fifth in a line of pupils, all female, all young, waiting to enter the training centres. She has been brought up in a crèche, schooled intensely from a very early age; at six years old, she already knows that she has been selected for a destiny. The tutors chose a handful of girls for advanced training – they take her...

...The next few years are intense. She learns how to command a starship and much more. Every night, the doctors poke and prod at her, examining her head. She doesn't know why, but she has already learned not to protest or ask questions. All that matters is pleasing the tutors. Every test leads to failure for some girls. They are taken away; she never sees them again. The class started with one hundred girls. At the end, only three girls survive...

...The System is all. The System is everything. The truth is hammered into them, again and again and again. They are born to serve the System, to be the latest weapons to be used to spread the System still further. She is a weapon and knows it. She exists purely to destroy the enemies of the System...

...Ambition – personal ambition – is a stranger to her, until she meets Wild...

She almost screamed as her head seemed to explode with pain. The android reached out for her, trying to provide comfort, but Jennifer twisted in her grasp, staggering back against the wall. It felt reassuringly solid. She clung to it until her head finally settled. The pain faded, but the newly-freed memories remain. She’d been that girl, that slave to the System, ruthlessly determined to root out and destroy its enemies. No wonder she’d been called the Dark Lady. She’d brought the darkness wherever she went.

“We continued to monitor humanity even after we sealed ourselves in the Forbidden Sector,” the android continued. “You discovered one of our agents, purely by accident, and eventually made contact with us. We had discovered that the System was on the verge of making a breakthrough that would allow them to match – or exceed – our own technology. In exchange for our help, you undertook to destroy that technology. You were only partially successful. The System’s march towards discovery was delayed, not blocked.”

Jennifer clutched at her head. “But why?” She asked. “Why did I go to war against the System? What did I want?”

“You had ambition,” the android said. “You wanted to rule the System, to become its mistress. It was unsurprising. The System had created a perfect warrior and conditioned her, yet the human mind does not respond well to conditioning. Once you broke it, you were able to actually conceive of challenging the System. But there was a problem. The System’s masters were secretive. You did not know where to find them. We could not answer that question for you.”

“Could not or would not?” Jennifer asked.

“Could not,” the android admitted. “Even back at the beginning, the System had access to technologies that allowed them to defeat their enemies. The FTL communications network was developed by the System; even we, with access to all of humanity’s scientific knowledge, had failed to match the System’s technology. The System’s masters are well-hidden. Even we are unable to track them down. It is possible that if we were to return to normal space and start searching ourselves, we would find them, but we do not wish to become so involved in human affairs.”

Jennifer felt her eyes narrow. “Why?”

“We are very different to you,” the android stated. “If we were to become involved again, the human race would resent and fear us. We have no wish to rule humanity – yet, given the difference in capabilities, we would end up ruling the human race in place of the System. We have decided that we will not interfere directly. The human race must solve its own problems.”

“The vast majority of the human race lives in System-built megacities,” Jennifer snarled. “They are brought up to believe that they are nothing compared to the System. Those who could fight, or challenge their social conditioning, are either brought into the System as enforcers or dumped on hostile worlds. Resistance is futile. How can a single ship destroy the entire System?”

“By finding the right place to hit,” the android suggested. “However, we will share some intelligence with you. The System has made another breakthrough, one far more dangerous than you may realise. Once you leave this place – we will open up a gateway that will allow you to reach your rendezvous point without being detected – you may wish to question your friend Jan on why he deserted the System and became a TechRat. The System is within years of creating – if you will pardon the expression – the perfect system. You have much less time than you think.”

“If you can do something to help,” Jennifer asked, angrily. “Don’t you have the moral right to do something?”

“No,” the android said. “It was that logic that gave birth to the System.”

 

Chapter Seventeen<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-comfficeffice" />

“You have failed.”

Wild kept his expression calm and composed, even though he knew that he might have reached the end of his career. The System’s absolute control over the FTL communications network allowed it to coordinate its actions and outmanoeuvre its enemies, but it also allowed its secret masters to express their displeasure to him personally. Wild had been told that, back in the early years of interstellar exploration, starships were out of contact with higher authority for years at a time. Those days were gone now.

“The Brilliant escaped, and flew right into the Forbidden Sector,” the voice continued. The System’s masters didn't show their faces on the display. “There is a prospect of an alliance between two very dangerous forces, both of which threaten the System itself.”

“But only a possibility,” Wild said, keeping his voice level. He wasn't supposed to know what was in the Forbidden Sector. “On the other hand, we destroyed a planet of rebels and dangerous aliens, who possessed technology that could have threatened the System. The rebels have been scattered and we took hundreds of prisoners. We will interrogate them to track down the next rebel base, scattering them again. They will not recover quickly from this blow.”

“The rebels are not a danger,” the voice said. “The System has survived many rebel threats. Even the worlds where they prepared for insurgency warfare before we invaded were eventually crushed. Jennifer and her ship, however, represent a colossal threat to the entire system. She must be tracked down before she recovers all of her memories.”

Wild smiled, inwardly. One person couldn't topple the System, even with one of the most powerful starships in the galaxy. And yet, the System’s masters seemed to believe that Jennifer’s memories held the key to their destruction. What did she know – without even knowing that she knew – that could destroy something as powerful as the System? Wild had been asking himself that question ever since she’d been allowed to escape and capture a starship. What did she know?

“We will track her down,” he assured them. “I will see to it personally.”

There was a long pause. “You will ensure that she is captured soon,” the voice informed him, “or you will be held accountable for failure.”

“I understand,” Wild said. Was it his imagination, or were they starting to panic? “I won’t fail you.”

The connection terminated. Wild sat back in his chair and thought, hard. Jennifer knew something that could bring the entire System crashing down. What did she know? And how long did they have before the System implemented its final plan and terminated all possibility of freedom forever? If she’d gone into the Forbidden Sector, did it mean that the rogue AIs were going to become involved? If they knew what was at stake...

He pulled himself to his feet, a plan forming in his mind. Jennifer had to be warned of the coming danger, even if it meant risking his own position. And that would be tricky, if not impossible. He picked up his briefcase and walked towards the hatch before he could think better of it and headed down towards the cruiser’s brig. The two prisoners he’d ordered transferred to his cruiser were perfect for what he had in mind.

The destruction of Ashfall had scattered the rebel fleet. A handful had escaped into hyperspace, but most of the ships had been destroyed or captured before they could evade the System Navy. One ship in particular had caught his attention. It had been a modified spacer, not unlike the one he used to reach the System’s masters, piloted by two people. There had been no one else on the ship, apart from the pilots. If nothing else, it proved that the rebels hadn't been preparing to flee when he’d bombarded their world into dust. The entire rebel command structure would have been badly disrupted by the loss of Ashfall.

He stopped outside the brig and waited for the security sensors to allow him to enter. The starship’s brig was normally used for imprisoning misbehaving crew – normally, rebel prisoners would have been dumped in one of the holds – and holding them until the Captain could decide their punishment. Force fields – nowhere near as powerful as the one that had protected Ashfall – kept the prisoners in small compartments, leaving them helpless, unable to even talk without permission. Wild walked right in and studied his two prisoners.

The genetic scan had revealed that they weren't related, suggesting that they were lovers. The first was a young man of around twenty, who radiated bold defiance, defiance that wilted when Wild met his eyes. The second was a young woman, perhaps a year younger than her boyfriend, who seemed lost in despair. They were both naked; their clothes had been taken from then, just before their bodies had been scanned thoroughly. The rebels had often managed to implant their people in ways that allowed them to break out of holding pens before the guards could react.

“Good afternoon,” Wild said, calmly. The presence of the guard at the far end of the room was a distraction, and a potential witness. “I am Enforcer Wild. You are onboard a starship, in hyperspace, escorted by over a hundred other starships. There is absolutely no hope of rescue and we won’t allow you to kill yourselves. Do you understand me?”

He moved his gaze from male to female and back again. Both of the prisoners wore a shock collar around their necks. If they did anything the RI watching them didn't like, they would be shocked into unconsciousness until the guards responded. At least the RI could be reprogrammed at will. Wild had access codes most of the System’s personnel didn't even know existed.

“Your only hope for life involves working with me,” Wild continued. He studied the young man thoughtfully. The young man was trying to be brave, but he was on the edge of breaking. If he wasn't afraid for himself, he was afraid for his girlfriend. “If you refuse to talk, we will be forced to scan your brains. And then we’ll kill the drooling wreak left behind. There is really no other choice.”

The young man looked up at him. “Go **** yourself,” he said. “We won’t talk.”

Wild allowed himself a smile. The one cardinal rule for when one was being interrogated was not to talk. The interrogator was in complete control. Given enough time, Wild knew that he could learn everything they knew, without the need for brainscans or even torture. But there wasn't enough time and a drooling wreak, a shell of a man, would be useless to him.

“I’m very much afraid that you will,” he said. No one had trained either of them in avoiding interrogation. “You won’t have a choice.”

He keyed a command into the console and the force field separating him from the young woman collapsed. “Come with me,” Wild ordered. The young woman – she had short dark hair, reminding him of Jennifer’s former self – shook her head, refusing to move. Wild stepped forward, caught her arm and lifted her with enhanced strength. “You are coming with me.”

The girl tried to fight, just as her lover threw himself against the force field. There was a flash of light and he was thrown backwards, falling over and landing on his back. Wild ignored his shouts and screams, half-carrying the girl into the interrogation chamber. She kept flailing away at him, but he ignored her. He carried her into the chamber, pushed her down onto one of the chairs, and started to buckle her in. Her struggles lasted until she was bound, unable to move. Wild checked the straps carefully and then went back for her boyfriend.

As soon as he deactivated the force field, the young man lunged at him. It was just brute force and desperation. Wild caught him easily, punched him in the chest to discourage him from trying that again, and then dragged him into the interrogation chamber. Once the young man was strapped down as well, he turned to the console and began the long process of sealing the room. The hatch swung closed and locked. Not a particularly trusting soul by nature, Wild produced a small bug-detector from his pocket and swept the entire chamber, finding and deactivating two optical pick-ups. The ship’s security officer was definitely a pervert, he told himself, with a small moue of distaste. He had no objections to wading through gallons of blood if it got him what he wanted, but there were limits. A man who indulged a perversion was a man who couldn't be trusted when the **** hit the fan.

“For the moment, we are unobserved,” Wild told his two unwilling guests. “It’s time for you to start making yourselves useful.”

He opened the briefcase and produced an injector gun. “This is designed to insert implants into your brains,” he informed them. The gun itself had been designed to be intimidating. Most humans hated the thought of needles, a phobia that Wild hadn't hesitated to use to his advantage in the past. “Once the implants are in, we can start work...”

“Look,” the young man said, rapidly. “I’ll tell you everything; you don't have to implant us...”

Wild allowed himself a cold smile. “And why should I make bargains with you when I can get what I want for free?” He asked. “And besides, I have a use for you.”

He reached out, almost tenderly, towards the girl’s neck, brushing her hair out of the way. She started to struggle, moving her head from side to side, before he caught her and held her tightly. He pressed the injector against the back of her head and pulled the trigger. A long stream of nanotech flowed into her brain. Given a few hours to deploy, it would eventually take control of her. He checked that the implant had started to form properly and walked over to her lover. The young man fought frantically, so frantically that Wild was forced to slap his head twice to force him to hold still, before he was implanted. If Wild had been a normal human, instead of a dedicated sociopath, their despair would have chilled him to the bone. As it was, he just waited for the implants to take effect.

Four hours later, he activated the implants and started to reprogram the rebel pair. No human could resist having their brain rewired by an implant and the System had developed the technology to a fine art. Creating a Drone – a human controlled by a RI – was easy, but Wild needed to do something a great deal more complicated. The two would be released, along with their ship, to make it to the rendezvous point. Once they got there, they would be unwitting spies for the System, at least according to Wild. His masters – he hoped – would never realise that there was a second plan. Besides, if any of the rebels had seen them get captured, they would know that they had been released. The System didn't need to bribe or force people to cooperate when it could just stick an implant in their brains and take control of their minds. They would become the most loyal followers in the world, unable to even consider resisting.

The legend Wild was creating was fairly simple. The human mind was amazingly adaptive. Given enough hints, an average human could concoct a fantasy that would be unquestionable – and then accept it as reality. The rebels would know that they had escaped, that they’d never been caught and implanted, and they’d believe it. They’d never know that they had been implanted, at least until it was too late. And the rebels, if they didn't scan them for implants, would never know that they’d been caught.

He took a breath. Programming them was easy, and his masters would accept it, but what he was about to do risked exposure – and execution. Keying a switch, he uploaded a second program, one he had created himself. The two implanted rebels wouldn't remain hidden at all. As soon as they saw Jennifer, they would go to her and pass on a message. If Jennifer could react in time, perhaps the System’s overall plan could be disrupted, if not destroyed. No one knew, apart from a handful of Enforcers, the precise location of Blindside Base. The System would never expect it to be attacked.

Wild worked quickly, uneasily aware that removing the surveillance devices might arouse suspicions. Once the rebels were programmed, he altered their programming and allowed them to leave the chairs. They moved as if they were half-asleep, for the programming hadn't kicked in yet. The rebels wouldn’t regain full awareness of their surroundings until they were back in their spacer, well away from the cruiser. And then they’d become unwitting spies for the System – and messengers for him. He motioned for them to follow him and took them to the hanger bay. Their spacer was waiting for them there.

The Hunter’s engineering crews had already been over the spacer, carefully downloading everything stored in the vessel’s computers and transferring the information to the ship’s intelligence department. Wild took direct control of his two prisoners and used them to check that nothing was amiss, before allowing them to take the helm. Once he was out of the spacer, he signalled for the hanger bay to be opened, permitting the spacer to depart. Once they were safely away from the starship, they activated their hyperdrive and vanished into infinity.

“I hope you know what you’re doing, Enforcer,” a voice said. Wild didn't allow himself to show any sign of surprise at how Pasha had slunk up on him. “The fleet lost too many ships in the last engagement.”

“We have the ships to spare,” Wild said, sharply. The Admiral’s concerns were all very well and good, but Wild had to satisfy his masters while working to overthrow them. How long had it been, he asked himself, since Admiral Quintana and he had made their pact? Years – and the System was as strong as ever. “And we destroyed a dangerous alien race.”

“That was not in dispute,” Pasha said, tartly. The System Navy existed to destroy dangerous alien races, along with rebels, pirates and dissidents. Destroying the Slugs was a great victory – and if it wasn’t, the System’s propaganda machine would soon turn it into one. Wild felt a flash of the old contempt he’d felt for the sheep in the megacities, the people who ate up the System’s lies and believed every word. “What is also not in dispute is that the fleet has been weakened. We don’t have the resources to cover all of the potential targets in our area of operations.”

“Then put out a request for reinforcements,” Wild said, sharply. The System’s masters had granted him unlimited authority and he intended to use it. He wasn't going to go back to them and admit that he had failed because he hadn't used all the resources that had been placed at his disposal. “Get the other fleets mobilised and use them to cover possible targets.”

He smiled. “Besides, we now have a new set of spies in the rebel camp,” he added. “We will track them down soon enough, unless they flee into unexplored space. And if they do that, they’re not a threat – are they?”

“Not unless we give them a few hundred years to build up a new fleet,” Pasha agreed, reluctantly. “You may be interested to know, however, that several rebel ships were able to evade our scouts. And the Brilliant, which vanished into the Forbidden Sector, has not been seen since.”

“Don’t worry,” Wild assured him. “We’ll see her again.”

Leaving the Admiral to contemplate the possible rewards for success – and the ruin of his career if the mission failed spectacularly – Wild walked back up towards his cabin. When he got there, he lay down on the bunk and closed his eyes. The die had been cast – and now all he could do was wait, knowing that discovery would mean a fate worse than death.

***​

Jon rubbed the back of his neck, puzzled. He and Marie, his co-pilot and girlfriend, had been one of the last ships to escape Ashfall before the System Navy bombarded it into space dust. They’d flown as fast as they could, fleeing through the funnel before any of the warships could catch them, and they’d escaped. Of course they’d escaped. So why did he have the sense that something was badly wrong? The back of his neck hurt.

He looked over at Marie. She’d been holding out, ever since they’d become lovers, but she’d forgotten her restraint after they’d escaped by the skin of their teeth. They’d barely escaped into hyperspace when she’d been on him, her hot lips pressed against his, her hands running over his back. His hands had caught her breasts and stroked them, just as she’d managed to force down his pants. He’d been so horny, he’d ****ed her on the deck, barely aware of their surroundings, lost in her. They’d made love for hours. He knew they’d made love for hours. So why did he feel that something was wrong?

He shook his head. Everything was wonderful. It might just have been the post-sex glow, but everything was truly wonderful. They could get married now and spend their lives together, even if they were on the run. The universe was a wonderful place.

Smiling, he checked the ship’s course. They were heading right towards the rendezvous point, where they would meet up with Captain Vaster, who would decide their next move. The System might have destroyed Ashfall and scattered the rebel fleet, yet the universe was still wonderful. Nothing could go wrong now.

And, inside his head, the implant waited. When the time was ripe, it would take control.

 

Chapter Eighteen<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-comfficeffice" />

“I should have known,” Jan said. “Sins of the past return to haunt me.”

They sat together in Jennifer’s cabin. There had been no time to talk to him since they’d left the Forbidden Sector, but Jennifer had called him in as soon as they’d rendezvoused with Captain Vaster. The AIs hadn’t given much information, yet if they knew about Jan and his work…Jennifer wasn't sure what it meant, except that the AIs clearly kept a close eye on the System. The information they’d provided, codes and clearances that could be used by the rebels, could only have come from direct access at the highest levels

Captain Vaster was much less amused. “If you know something that we could use against the System, you should share it with us,” he snapped. “Do you know how many people died when the planet was destroyed? Should I not mention an entire race of intelligent beings obliterated? The Slugs were exterminated! You’ll pardon me if I don’t find it amusing?”

Jennifer held up a tired hand. She'd thought that discovering her true name would free all of her memories, but instead…nothing? And what she had learned was confusing. The System had created her, along with thousands of others, and then she’d turned on it. And she’d been important enough to their long-term plans that they’d wiped her memory rather than killing her outright. Wild’s face seemed to float in front of her eyes, his droll features twisted into a mocking grin, as if he were laughing at her from wherever he was in the universe. Her head felt fragile, as if the merest touch would crack her skull.

“Enough,” she said, too tired to be loud. “Jan – what were you working on that was so terrible?”

Jan stood up and began to pace the compartment, wearing a pattern into the carpet. Jennifer watched him impatiently, cursing him and the System under her breath. Everyone had secrets – and this one had been right under her nose, ever since she had met the TechRats. Just for a moment, she thought of the value of torture, before dismissing the thought. Jan had been a Scientist, born and bred to push back the borders of science, all for the greater good of the System. Whatever he’d learned had to be staggeringly important, for them to spend so much time and effort to try to track him down.

“Every one of us has nanites in the blood,” Jan said, finally. He spoke so quietly that Jennifer had to strain to hear him. “The concept is actually older than the System, but the human race didn’t achieve any major breakthroughs in nanotechnology until just before the Generic Wars. Biological bombs had been deployed on countless worlds and their populations had become exposed to viruses that rewrote part of their genetic coding, turning them into monsters or slave populations. Terror was a large part of the Genetic Wars and finding a way to undo the damage became the main priority.”

Jennifer’s eyes narrowed. The AIs had stated that the System had arisen in response to the Genetic Wars. If Jan was telling the truth, if worlds had been carpet-bombed with viruses that changed humans into monsters, there might have been a very good reason that control had been surrendered to the System. And the System’s constant intrusions into the lives of its own people might be fuelled by fear of what they would do, unsupervised.

“Eventually, researchers discovered how to create the first nanomachines,” Jan continued. “Nanites are tiny, so tiny they can slip between your cells and repair damage. They believed that they could, eventually, create nanomachines that would make people immortal, eternally resistant to every disease, be it natural or genetically-engineered. They even believed that they could use nanotechnology to create whatever they wanted, developing a post-scarcity economy that would no longer need governments or police – or breed hatred, terrorism and war. All those dreams floundered on one small problem; they had to power the nanomachines.

“You see, they were also haunted by a spectre; the spectre of grey goo. Their concept of nanomachines was that the first nanomachines would create others, which would in turn create still others…and keep going until the entire planet dissolved into dust. The first experiments were carried out well away from human-inhabited worlds, just in case. It didn’t really matter, anyway. The nanites needed to be powered. It was the great stumbling block.”

He shrugged. “What they eventually managed to do was create nanomachines that drew power from their host’s body,” he said, dryly. “The nanomachines would repair the body – and provide protection against diseases and suchlike – in exchange for power, the ultimate parasites. They wouldn't function if they were removed from the host body, ensuring that they couldn’t start evolving and developing on their own.”

“Curious,” Ghost put in. “There’s no reason why nanomachines couldn’t draw power from a localised energy field.”

“They use them in fabricators,” Jan confirmed. “I actually think, now we know about the AIs, that the original designers weren't interested in creating other AIs that might not be so benevolent. Humans dislike the concept of little machines invading their bodies at the best of times, even if they are benevolent. It was so easy to create nanomachines that served as assassination tools that the human race remained a little scared about nanotechnology, with good reason.

“Anyway,” he said, “the System continued to research the technology secretly. They wanted ways to use nanotechnology to control people, making them do whatever the System wanted them to do. People like me were recruited onto the project, transferred to one of the science stations, given all the resources they wanted and told to get to work. Like most Scientists, I was born and bred for the role. I never had a day’s holiday since I was decanted from the tube at five years old, and then taught everything I needed to know. After a while, we stopped asking questions about what happened to those children who failed to meet expectations.”

Jennifer shivered, remembering the children who’d grown beside her, back before she’d become one of the System’s enforcers. She – and they – had been born and bred for a specific task; when one of them failed, he or she was simply removed and never seen again. She’d never even thought to ask what happened to them herself; it was as if they’d never existed. After discovering that the System had harvested her eggs, she had a fairly good idea what had happened to them.

“The System wanted a way to create self-sustaining nanotech,” Jan admitted. “The nanotech at their disposal was limited. It couldn’t be used for constructing whole starships from scratch and it certainly couldn’t operate without command and control, provided by a bonded AI. That was a safety precaution, but the System wasn't interested in safety. They had a far darker ambition for their new nanotechnology.”

He covered his eyes with one hand as he sat back down at the table. “You’ve seen the Drones,” he said. “The System implants them with controlling implants and rewrites their minds to suit themselves. A Drone is a mindless human being, serving the System. They have other, more subtle, ways to control people, but the Drones are a vast object lesson for the workers. And they don’t need a bonded AI to run them. They run very nicely on their own.

“What I discovered was a way to break that barrier and create autonomous nanotechnology.”

Captain Vaster leaned forward. “And they let you go?”

Jan scowled at him. “They were delighted, at first, when I succeeded. I’d thought that I had single-handedly changed the entire galaxy. I would have done too, but…they wanted to keep things the way they are, permanently. They wanted to use the nanotech to rewrite the entire human race. We’d become insects in a hive, all programmed to be what the System wanted us to be, unable to even consider the possibility of resistance or rebellion. It would be the end of everything.”

“That’s impossible,” Captain Vaster objected. “They couldn’t…”

“They just wiped out an entire race,” Jennifer pointed out. The insane plan shocked her. It was evil on a galactic scale. Compared to their ultimate plan, wiping out the Slugs was nothing, the act of a naughty boy. “If they could rewrite the entire human race, they’d do it. We’d become…thoughtless monsters, for eternity.”

Jan snorted. “Did you ever hear of a world called <?xml:namespace prefix = st1 ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-comffice:smarttags" /><st1lace w:st="on"><st1:City w:st="on">Athens</st1:City></st1lace>?”

Captain Vaster frowned. “It was sealed off,” he said, slowly. “Why?”

“They tested the nanotech on it,” Jan said. “It turned the world into a nightmare. They hadn’t got the programming right and everything went wrong. The nanotech turned the planet’s men into brutal beasts and somehow lowered the intelligence of the planet’s women. An entire colony world, ten million inhabitants, was warped out of all recognition overnight. And, to add insult to injury, the nanotech began to evolve. It had already spread through the human population; now, it infested the birds and beasts, before spreading into the planet’s crust. God alone knows what it’s become by now. The System tried to scour the planet. It didn’t take.”

“They built a doomsday weapon,” Jennifer asked slowly, “without an off switch?”

“The nanotech was designed to be self-replicating and adaptive,” Jan admitted. “After a few hours loose on the surface, it had already spread across the entire world and adapted to the point where control signals no longer worked. By then, the entire human population was nothing more than monsters, roaming the cities trying to kill or rape their fellow humans.”

He shook his head. “I saw what they wanted to do and I couldn’t bear it,” he added. “I took control of the test samples and programmed them to break loose and destroy the station. In the confusion, I hacked into the master computers and wrote myself a few fake IDs. I broke into the hanger, took the only spacer I knew to have remained uninfected, and vanished into hyperspace. Eventually, I managed to get to Centre. One of my old friends who’d become a TechRat helped me into the Undercity and…I became Jan, one of their pet scientists.”

Ghost emitted an electronic cough. “Are you saying,” the AI asked, “that the System has this technology and is planning to use it?”

“I wiped the files I’d created and destroyed my prototypes,” Jan said. “They should be back at the beginning, but…they know that it’s possible now. My successor – probably a clone of me, perhaps with some rewiring to make him loyal, although that destroys the mind…”

Jennifer blinked. “They risk destroying the minds of their own scientists?”

“The more controls and blocks one places into a mind, the greater the danger of mental collapse,” Jan said, dryly. “Your own mind was damaged to the point you were sleepwalking through life, at least until you began to wake up. And now some of the blocks are gone, your thoughts have started to become diverted through new pathways. You may never become what you were.”

And that’s a bad thing? Jennifer asked herself. The more she learned about Admiral Quintana, the Dark Lady, the less she liked her. That woman hadn’t cared as her classmates were taking away for gene-stripping, followed by reprogramming or simple death; she certainly hadn’t cared as worlds died under her fire, humans slaughtered in vast numbers. There was no way to know, at least not yet, if Admiral Quintana had turned against the System because it was evil and oppressive, or if she’d wanted power for herself.

Captain Vaster, who knew nothing about Jennifer’s old self, ignored the byplay. “How long will it be until the System destroys us all?”

Jan shrugged. “Unknown,” he said, affably. Captain Vaster gritted his teeth, but Jan spoke over him before he could interrupt. “They will have to duplicate the technology – which will be easier, because they know it’s possible – and then solve the command and control problems. My guess is that they will make the nanotechnology less flexible and accept the inevitable consequences of such inefficiency. They’ll have to program the system to avoid evolving…

“And then they’ll test it on a planet or two to ensure that it works,” he continued. “They’ll check everything, and then start unleashing it on the rest of the System. The Undercity’s inhabitants, the descendents of genetic mutations introduced during the Genetic Wars, will be wiped out overnight, their brains rewritten to turn them into System loyalists. Once Centre is under their control, there won’t be a hope of resistance. And from Centre they’ll start bombarding the other planets. Give them six months and the entire human race would become an insect hive, all programmed to obey the queens.”

Jennifer felt her entire body shiver. “Only the highest levels of the System would be spared,” she said, slowly. “They’d be…able to enjoy ruling a galaxy where independent thought no longer exists, all of humanity turned into one vast hive mind.”

“And given time, they’ll find a way to apply it to an alien race – all of the alien races,” Jan added. “Or perhaps they’ll just decide to exterminate all non-human life in the galaxy and put an end to everything that isn’t human. It will be the end of everything.”

Captain Vaster stared at him. “But…there are colonies outside the galaxy, ships that headed out to other galaxies…”

“Eventually, the System will track them down,” Jan said, remorselessly. “And even if they survive long enough to build up a fleet that can challenge the System, how are you going to liberate a world – an entire galaxy – of Drones? Drones that don’t even know the concept of humanity, or independence, or freedom of thought and expression…they’ll do it. After what they’ve done to a thousand rebel worlds, don’t doubt that they will do it.”

“Ghost,” Jennifer subvocalised, “is he right? Can they do it?”

The AI seemed to consider. “If he’s right about the nature of the nanotechnology,” it said, “they could do it. They would have to account for random evolution and mutation in the nanotechnology, but that could be handled by a sophisticated AI or even simply restricting their development. It would be chancy; the nanomachines will go through millions of evolutions within a few standard days. One mistake in the programming and instead of the System being in control, it will be the nanotechnology. Even the System would be exterminated. The galaxy would be infested by a new MassMind, a perversion of everything…”

“Jan,” Jennifer said, slowly. “Can you produce nanotechnology that would block their nanotechnology?”

“Perhaps,” Jan said, carefully. “The problem is that I wiped most of the files, even the ones stored in my implants. I’d have to rebuild a great deal of my research and then start improving upon it. By then, the System would have mastered the technology – or it will think that it has mastered the technology - and begin deploying it.”

Captain Vaster shook his head. “I can’t believe that they would do it…”

Jennifer rounded on him. “They keep entire populations under control through strict social control,” she snapped. “They drug entire worlds to keep them compliant. They just exterminated another alien race – and they will exterminate the remaining races, if we give them the chance. They will destroy us all if they can’t be stopped!”

“But how?” Captain Vaster demanded. “How could we…”

He stopped and looked at Jan. “You could duplicate your work and then we could threaten to unleash it ourselves,” he said. “Tell them if they don’t back off we’ll destroy Centre and every other world under the System.”

“They’d call our bluff,” Jan said, coldly. “And we would be bluffing. I will not be a party to mass slaughter.”

“There isn’t any choice,” Captain Vaster thundered. “Damn it – do you think I like the idea? There are trillions of lives at stake…”

“We will stop them,” Jennifer said, calmly. She felt an odd spurt of confidence as she spoke. “We have time to act…”

Ghost broke in before anyone could reply. “I’m sorry for interrupting you,” the AI said, “but a spacer has just arrived at the rendezvous point. The crew insist that they have to meet with Jennifer at once. They say that they have vital information for her.”

“It’s a trap,” Captain Vaster said, at once. “No one from Ashfall should know about her, apart from a handful of my people. The System sent them to us…”

“They said that they have a word,” Ghost said. “The word is Wild.”

Jennifer stared down at her hands, oddly indecisive. “Bring them over,” she ordered finally, “but I want a full security field and counter-nano weapons deployed to take them out if necessary.”

“Understood,” Ghost said. There was a faint hum as the teleporter began to activate. “Bringing them over now.”

Two shimmering pillars of golden light materialised in front of Jennifer. When they faded, they revealed two young people, both innocent. But their eyes were blank and their smiles were fixed. She knew, without needing confirmation, that she was looking at two Drones.

“Greetings,” the young man said. He looked like a puppet hanging from unseen strings. “The System’s masters believe that these young people have been sent to infiltrate the rebels. Instead, I present information to you that I believe that you will find useful. Do not attempt to contact me directly. You may be able to pass a message back to me using a dead-drop on the Galactic Net. I wish you luck, Admiral.”

Captain Vaster turned to look at Jennifer. “Why did he call you Admiral?”

“Later,” Jennifer said. Her head was pounding, yet there was no flash of memory. “Take these two to the sickbay and see what we can do for them. Perhaps we can free them from enemy control.”

She shook her head as they led the young couple away. If Wild was contacting her directly, risking exposure and certain death, it had to be important. And after Jan’s story, Jennifer knew that she didn’t dare ignore the message. And it could be a trap.

And if she fell, the human race would fall with her.

 

Comments would be very nice...

Chapter Nineteen<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-comfficeffice" />

Two hours later, they reconvened in the briefing compartment.

“I’m afraid that I can't do anything for them,” Ghost said. “I’ve scanned their brains carefully and the controlling implants have bedded into the cranial matter. If they hadn't revealed themselves, they might not have been detected for a very long time.”

“You can't do anything?” Jennifer asked Jan. “You destroyed my tracking implant.”

Jan shook his head. “The tracking implant was inserted into your arm,” he said, seriously. “Their controlling implants are inserted into their brains. I could destroy the implant, but in doing so I would almost certainly destroy their brains as well. If we put them in stasis tubes, we might be able to keep them alive until we can find a way – or get our hands on the control codes and deactivate their implants.”

Captain Vaster scowled down at his hands. The young couple had been new recruits to his rebellion, both recruited from Ashfall. Their survival had seem a miracle. Now it was a nightmare in the making. God alone knew how many other implanted spies there were in the rebellion, all spying through unknowing eyes.

“Leave them for the moment,” he said, finally. “How much do you trust the data from Wild?”

Jennifer hesitated. She had a feeling that the Dark Lady would have trusted it completely, but Jennifer needed to be a little more cautious. For all she knew, Wild had betrayed her to the System and had supervised her mental adjustment personally. It didn't seem logical, but Enforcers were known to be devious.

“He betrayed his own spies to send the information,” she said. “I think that that makes it trustworthy.”

“Or perhaps we were meant to believe that that makes it trustworthy,” Alvin growled. The suit of light armour he wore clanked as he moved his hand, bringing it down on the table with a thump. “They send the message, sacrifice a couple of pawns to convince us its genuine, and then snooker us with a trap. We send a ship in to investigate this report and we’d probably be jumped by the entire System Navy.”

“I have analysed the data,” Ghost said, before anyone else could speak. “Assuming that the data is accurate, we have a window of opportunity to embarrass the System – and cripple one of its most cherished research programs.”

Jan looked up sharply. “The nanotech?”

“No,” Ghost said. “Project Blindside.”

There was a long pause. “Assuming that the data within the implants is genuine, the System has finally succeeded in creating a starship that belongs in hyperspace. The technical data is very limited, but it is clear that the ship’s hull material is partly composed of elements recovered from hyperspace. The ship will remain in hyperspace until it is forced out of the dimension, rather than fall back into normal space when the drive field collapses. It is a remarkable technological achievement.”

“The System has been working on it for years,” Jan commented. “Why do we give a damn about it?”

“The technical data suggests that the starship would allow the System to navigate in hyperspace without needing to avoid energy storms,” Ghost said. “If that alone is genuine, it would revolutionise space travel. Transit times between stars would be reduced sharply. Think about what it would mean for the System if they could get their ships to their targets much faster.

“A second possibility is that the ship would literally be invisible within hyperspace. The ship wouldn't have a betraying metallic signature to reveal its presence to watching sensors. It could lurk at the borders of an energy storm and track targets through hyperspace with considerable accuracy. In short, the System will use this ship to put an end to the rebel worlds.”

“You’ve made your point,” Captain Vaster said. “Has it not occurred to you that this...supership may be being used as bait in a trap?”

“It has,” Jennifer said. She sighed, rubbing her forehead. “I think that we don’t have a choice, though. We have to go after the ship before the System complete pre-flight trials and launch her.”

“The data suggests that the ship will be formally launched within two weeks, with a carefully-selected crew,” Ghost said. “The ship will have an unusual AI, one designed to operate within hyperspace.”

Jennifer ran her hand through her long hair. “I could bond with it...”

“You can only bond with one AI,” Ghost told her. “Your implants allowed you to bond with me, but once they were activated you couldn't purge them and bond with a second AI. Beside” – and the AI’s voice dropped slightly – “I’d get jealous.”

“I’m sorry,” Jennifer said, sincerely. She meant it too. She’d gotten so used to the AI’s constant presence in her head that she’d started taking it for granted. “I think that we’d need to come up with another plan.”

The data unfolded in her head as she queried her implant. Wild had done them proud – assuming that Jennifer was right and it wasn't a trap, baited with an irresistible piece of cheese. The System wouldn't keep the new starship anywhere near one of the formal fabrication nodes or shipyards; they’d started constructing it in a science colony, located in a dead star system. There would be plenty of raw materials, mined from the local asteroid fields, and few uninvited guests. Officially, the system possessed nothing of interest, even to pirates and smugglers.

“We’re going to have to be very careful,” she said, slowly. The System hadn't skimped on the starship’s defences. The Blindside was protected by AI-controlled weapons platforms, hyperspace mines and no less than four cruisers, patrolling the area constantly. Brilliant could take out one, perhaps two, of the enemy ships, but five of them would overwhelm her defences and destroy her. A frontal attack would be suicide. “How about if we...”

***​

Virgil felt his head throbbing as he walked into the conference room. He’d already realised that he was going to be volunteered for a mission – another easy way to commit suicide, at least in his view – and he’d been trying to think of ways to get out of it that wouldn't make Melody consider him a coward. Quite why her opinion mattered to him was a puzzle; it couldn't be love, could it? Besides, Melody had been summoned as well, which suggested that she would be taking part in the mission. He couldn't let her go alone.

His eye was caught by the display hanging over the conference table. It showed a binary star system, one red giant escorted by a dying yellow star. The locals – if there were any locals – lived in one of the most spectacular systems in the galaxy. If they were from the System, they probably didn't appreciate it. Virgil took a moment to study it, hoping that no one would ask him to speak. Public speaking scared him.

“Thank you for coming,” Jennifer said. Virgil thought sourly that no one had given them a choice. After narrowly escaping defeat and certain death at Ashfall, they were going to be going in harm’s way once again. “We’re going to steal a starship from the System. The starship is concealed within a science colony here” – she pointed to the barycentre of the binary star system – “and heavily protected. A frontal assault will get us all killed, for nothing. We need to do something clever.”

Virgil scowled as he studied the display. “That complex is heavily protected,” he said. “The moment we show ourselves, they’ll be on top of us.”

“Precisely,” Jennifer said. She sounded inhumanly cheerful. One of Alvin’s bully-boys had spread the rumour that she was actually a flesh-meat android, like they’d seen on the entertainment shows the System used to keep the masses quiet. Virgil had never liked them himself; they were insanely putrid and the good guys – the System’s enforcers – won every time. And the message – don’t try to beat the System – was hammered into everyone’s head with monotonous regularity. “We need to be clever, and subtle.”

She must have sent a subvocal command to the computer, for the display changed suddenly, switching to a dull red dwarf that no one, not even the System, had bothered to name. It was a catalogue number and nothing more. Without planets, or even a shell of asteroids and comets, it was completely uninteresting to anyone. The System had claimed it, of course, but the System claimed everything. They’d probably not returned to the star since the first exploration flight, hundreds of years ago.

“This star system plays host to one of the singularity centres that help support and maintain the galactic net,” Jennifer said. “The System uses them to ensure that the net remains firmly under their control. It also boosts and repeats signals from one end of the galaxy to the other, ensuring that nothing is ever lost on the galactic net.”

Captain Vaster snorted. “Why, if the masses were to be deprived of the latest episode of Enforcer Loyal, they might revolt,” he said, sardonically. “Perhaps if we took out the relay station, we might start a general uprising.”

Virgil allowed himself a chuckle. It was always good to laugh at the jokes of anyone higher up the food chain than himself, even though the joke wasn't particularly funny.

“There are numerous other relay stations,” Ghost said. The AI, of course, heard and saw everything on the ship. “We would have to take out several thousand to cripple the galactic net. The System would have all of the remaining nodes covered by the time we blew up the first dozen. I think that the galactic net is so old that it actually predates the System.”

Virgil saw where this was going. “You want to take the station,” he said, finally. “Won’t it be manned and armed to the teeth?”

“Well, no, actually,” Jennifer said. She touched a control and the display altered again. “The relay platforms are unmanned. They’re not even crewed by an AI. And we have some of the command codes. We get into the relay station, hack into the system and plant a few dummy orders into the System’s system.”

Virgil had a horrible sinking feeling. “And you want Melody to do the hacking?”

“I can provide advice from out here,” Ghost said, “but I’m too large to fit into the station.”

“Very funny,” Virgil snarled. Fear made him brave, as odd as that seemed. He was more afraid for Melody than himself. “And what if we fail?”

“You will be in charge of slipping into the station,” Jennifer said, returning to the first issue with brutal frankness. “The station is protected by heavy-duty scanners watching for something that might signify trouble, so we’re going to slip you in as covertly as possible. Should the alarms go off, Brilliant will reveal herself and teleport you both off before we vanish into hyperspace. This isn't Rupert’s World. The relay station will be able to signal the System Navy instantly. If we’re blown, we yank you out and run. We can't stand up to the entire Navy.”

She keyed a switch and the display altered, showing the interior of the station. “Once you’re onboard, you will plant the orders we need,” Jennifer said. “They will provide clearance for a group of System Inspectors and their bodyguards to visit Project Blindside. The System has spent billions of credits on the project; it stands to reason that they’d want to be sure they got their money’s worth. Once we get into the science colony, we take out the guards and steal the ship. There’s nothing to it.”

“Why do I have the feeling,” Virgil said, slowly, “that there’s going to be a lot more to it?”

“Because you’re smart,” Jennifer said, dryly. “Let me worry about the rest of it.”

“I’m not worried about getting into the colony,” Virgil said, carefully. “If we have the right clearances, none of the System’s guards would dream of getting in our way.” He smiled, remembering a heist he’d pulled with forged credentials that marked him out as an Enforcer operating undercover in the Undercity. The guards had even helped load up the truck with goodies. “I’m worried about the getting out afterwards part. Once the shooting starts, they’re going to know that something’s wrong.”

“I’m working on that,” Jennifer said, seriously. “Trust me; we won’t be going in there without a way to get out.” She cleared her throat. “We won’t take long to reach the relay station, so get some sleep. I’ll see to it that you get the right equipment for the job. I’m sure that you won’t **** it up.”

Captain Vaster gave her an odd look, and then looked back at Virgil. “The resistance is depending upon you,” he said. “You’ll have all the support we can provide.”

“We’re losing the war,” Virgil pointed out. “If this new...starship is deployed against us, it will just ensure that we lose the war faster.”

“And if we lose,” Captain Vaster said, firmly, “we can at least claw the bastards good and proper while we die.”

Melody elbowed Virgil before he could say something unfortunate. “My collegue would like to say that he is honoured by the opportunity to risk his life” – Virgil whimpered inwardly – “in the cause of overthrowing the System,” she said, sweetly. Her smile only planted the knife in his heart. “We will get some rest and then we will devote ourselves to preparing for the mission.”

She caught Virgil’s arm and pulled him out of the compartment. The hatch had barely hissed closed when she turned to face him. “I know you’re terrified of sending me into danger,” she said, sharply. “I know just how you’re feeling. But the mission needs a hacker and I’m the only one on hand.”

Virgil wanted to refute the argument, but he couldn't. Ghost would be the best hacker on the ship, yet he couldn't open a link into the relay station without being detected. Virgil’s own computer skills were poor, even though he had pulled off some remarkable stunts on the civilian net. In theory, at least, breaking and entering into a relay station wasn't any different from some of the other things he’d done before the Peacekeepers finally caught up with him. In practice...he was terrified. He’d always been terrified before a job, but this was different. His life and soul were at stake – and so were Melody’s life, soul...and freedom.

“Now, come on,” Melody said, dragging him back to his compartment. “They told us to rest and we’re going to rest. Or at least something that involves lying down.”

Virgil blushed and allowed her to lead him by the hand. They might be dead in a few hours, after all. It might be their last chance.

***​

Captain Vaster was worried.

Not about the mission. He’d carried out so many damn-fool stunts since he’d found himself leading the last of the rebel fleets that he was no longer worried by the long odds. As long as the mission wasn't quite suicide, he was happy to lead it himself – or allow others to bear the risks in his stead. But he’d been captured and sentenced – effectively – to death. And then he’d been rescued in passing after a very improbably series of events.

He’d been taken onboard the Brilliant, a captured System cruiser, and transported to Ashfall. And that was odd; only a handful of System starships had ever been captured by the rebels and they’d all been smaller frigates or destroyers. They’d destroyed cruisers, certainly, but they’d never captured a single one. The cruisers were protected by AIs that were quite happy to blow up the ships, along with their crews, rather than let them fall into enemy hands. And Jennifer, if that was her real name, had not only captured the ship, but the AI as well. It was the greatest success the rebellion had enjoyed for some time, so why did it leave a sour taste in his mouth?

The thoughts kept working their way through his mind. They’d gone to Ashfall, only to be chased by a fleet of System cruisers that had bombarded the world to rocky fragments, destroying the Slugs and their inhuman technology. Some of the rebels had probably been relieved to be rid of the Slugs, but Captain Vaster knew better. The rebellion had needed all the help it could get, even on alien terms. And Ashfall was now gone and the rogue AIs, if they were AIs, were unwilling to help.

And now Jennifer was following data supplied to her by none other than Enforcer Wild, one of the System’s most dreaded operatives. Captain Vaster had never met the man, never so much as laid eyes on him, but they were deadly enemies nonetheless. Wild was responsible for so many deaths in his time; rebels, criminals and far too many people who were innocent, at the wrong place at the wrong time. No, Wild had never shown anything, apart from loyalty to the System and complete ruthlessness in furthering its aims. And what was his connection to Jennifer? And why had he called her Admiral?

And there was the odd nagging feeling that he’d seen Jennifer before. But where?

He didn't dare speak aloud, not when the AI monitored everything that transpired on the Brilliant. Jennifer was in full control of the ship and if something happened to her, the AI might go insane. There were tales of what happened when a ship’s AI went mad, although none of them were based on true stories. None of the genuine incidents had left any survivors. He’d have to risk slipping a message to Virgil and Melody. It was a shame that Virgil wasn't one of his men, but Melody knew to follow his orders without questioning them where they might be overheard. He’d protected her on the ground, back at Rupert’s World, and she would be grateful.

And the, perhaps, the mystery would be solved. Perhaps his fears would be dispelled. Perhaps it would be nothing. Clearing his mind, he started towards his cabin. A few hours rest and then he’d throw himself into preparing for the mission. There were only a few more hours to go.

And just in case, he told himself, it was time to start working on contingency plans.

 

Can't wait to see what happens next. Thanks for the hard work Chris.

Jason

 

comment comment comment
thats a few isnt it?
dont worry chris, i think its safe to say we all love your stories and eagerly await each new installment

 

It's a page turner for sure! (page down?)

I'm glad you write quickly

Ron

 

More PLEASE....

 

Keep up the good work!!Thanks for sharing.
Matt

 

Chapter Twenty<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-comfficeffice" />

Virgil had been born and bred in the catacombs of the megacity. He was mildly acrophobic, although Melody had helped him overcome it on Ashfall. Deep space, however, was something very different. The tiny portal built into the reconfigured escape pod showed nothing, but infinity – and stars, shining at him unblinkingly. He’d never even seen the stars until he’d been captured and shipped off to Rupert’s World. The sight was overwhelming and terrifying. The universe was so vast that Virgil – and the entire System – was nothing.

The thought made him smile. He’d never set out to be a rebel, but now – with a sense of true perspective – he felt that he could face the System without a care in the universe. He looked over at Melody, seated in the other acceleration chair, and smiled at her. His hand reached out to take hers, holding her as close to him as he could. The tiny craft, powered by a single power cell that barely provided enough power for light and heat, was supposed to be undetectable. If Ghost was wrong and the System could – and did – pick them up, they’d be dead before they realised that they were under attack.

Ghost had explained, at some length, that the System used a combination of active and passive sensors to protect its relay stations. The passive sensors shouldn’t be a problem. They picked up radiation emitting from their target and the tiny spacecraft wasn't emitting anything. The active sensors, on the other hand, were a serious problem. The System was using both FTL gravity wave sensors and more conventional STL sensors to blanket the approach routes. If they were spotted, he thought, they’d be dead. There was no way they could escape the System’s automated defences before they were killed. The thought just kept going round and round in his head, yet somehow he pushed it aside. They’d succeed, he told himself. They wouldn't fail.

He glanced down at the tiny display and shivered. The star system was blanketed by small sensor platforms, devices that backed up the relay station as well as watching for any intruders with bad intentions. Destroying the relay station would have been easy, he’d been told, but they needed to get onboard without setting off any alarms. Virgil had had experience in getting into alarmed buildings and compartments before, so he told himself that the concept was the same. All they had to do was slip through the sensor net and reach the relay station’s hull. There would be no tripwires on the hull itself, not when they’d be triggered by any change in the station’s configuration.

A red sweep of light blinked into existence on the display and he held his breath as it swept over their position. It moved on without them being swept out of existence and he released the breath he’d been holding. They’d slipped through the sensor network’s outer levels without being detected. The escape pod was built of materials that absorbed or redirected sensor probes; it had been reconfigured to be as light as possible, yet there had been no way to be sure until they actually tried to slip into the system’s defences. A single mistake would have doomed them.

The relay station came into view slowly, hanging against the dim red star. It was a monstrous structure, yet it seemed as fragile as the spider’s webs he’d seen during his visits to the Undercity. Some of the spiders had been the product of genetic engineering sometime in the distant past and were alarmingly dangerous, luring passer-bys into their webs and devouring them slowly over a period of days. The thought wasn't a reassuring one. Virgil had been told that the spiders secreted a musk that drew human victims into their lairs and kept them dazed until it was far too late to run away. The station seemed to be mocking them, inviting them to come into its grasp and then be destroyed…

He pushed the thought away angrily as a second sweep of energy passed over their position. They had to have managed to get in, he told himself firmly. The automated defences might not have engaged a tumbling rock falling through the system, but they would definitely have engaged something so close to the relay station. And then they’d probably whistle up a cruiser and sweep the dust and debris, just to be certain that they’d taken out the target. The relay stations were the core of the System’s interstellar communications network. They’d stop at nothing to protect them.

“Here we go,” Melody breathed, as the station grew so large that it dominated the surroundings. The vast butterfly wings that coordinated the FTL transmission network were linked to a single control station, no larger than a medium-sized cruiser. At one point, he’d been told, the System had manned the platforms, ensuring that their crews had enough luxuries to keep them happy and content. Now only automated systems – barely RIs, let alone AIs – maintained the platforms. They wouldn't get suspicious unless they blew the mission. “Steady…very steady…”

The spacecraft’s thrusters fired, just for a brief second. The technology was so primitive that the System had abandoned it centuries ago, and few of the primitive alien races the System encountered ever had the chance to develop it for themselves. It generated a jet composed of gas molecules, just enough to slow their fall and match orbits with the relay station. Virgil reached for his helmet as he felt a thud echoing through the spacecraft’s hull. They had docked with the relay station. As soon as he pulled his helmet over his head and checked the life support, Melody keyed a switch and the air began to flow out of the compartment. As soon as they were in vacuum, they’d have to move. The hatch cracked open as soon as it was safe. The mission had officially begun.

For a moment, his head spun as he stepped out of the spacecraft. The relay station had been built for deep-space operations and there was little he could use to orient himself. And then there was the sight of the stars and infinity, mocking him now. Forcing himself to focus, he fixed his gaze on the station’s hull, arbitrarily designating it as ‘down.’ It was the only way he could function in open space. He glanced at Melody and then started to walk, following the maps and plans Ghost had downloaded into his new implant. It was a very brief walk to the airlock, a blocky shape marring the smooth metal of the station’s hull. He silently blessed the System’s lack of imagination as he came up to it; the airlock was a standardized design, approved for use in deep space environments. They all had the same design flaws, including a manual system, disconnected from the rest of the station, that could be used to open the airlock.

He smiled as he flipped open the lid and went to work. The System trained deep-space technicians too thoroughly to risk losing them to accidents, so it had over-engineered the relay station – and all civilian space-based installations – for safety. They might have left the relay station unmanned, but there would be inspection and repair teams coming in on a fairly regular basis – and they would need safety precautions, just in case one of them got stuck outside the station without an access key. Besides, he thought sourly, making it clear that the System didn’t care about the lives of its workers was likely to cause dissent and eventually rebellion.

The main processor block was, as he had expected, a separate system, but the engineers had linked it into the main system through a bypass link. Virgil couldn’t tell if it was a security precaution or not, yet it was a major headache. If he opened the airlock while the link was still in place, the relay station’s main computer would realise that the airlock had opened without permission and sound the alarm. And then a cruiser would be on their heads before they even knew that they were in trouble. Bracing himself, he pulled one of the reconfigured blocks out of his pockets, placed it against the bypass link and actiated it. There was a brief moment when he thought his heart would stop, just before the red light on the block turned to green. He had successfully blocked the System’s bypass block.

Smiling to himself, he opened the main processor block and undid the hatch, keeping a wary eye on the new block, just in case he’d missed something. Nothing happened, so he reached for the airlock’s handle and started to pull it down. It was stiffer than he’d expected, but the hatch started to open before Virgil could start to panic. He grinned up at Melody through his helmet and led the way into the airlock, pulling the outer hatch closed behind him. There was a click and the inner airlock opened automatically. He held up a hand, preventing her from just walking out into the station, and then checked with a second processor block. The System would have to be extremely paranoid to set additional security precautions inside the relay station, but the System hadn’t come to dominate three-quarters of the known galaxy by not being very careful. There was a secondary security system, sweeping the station at five-minute intervals. Oddly calm, Virgil turned to Melody and pressed his helmet against hers, allowing them to talk.

“Stay here,” he ordered, watching the security sweep on his processor. If they were very unlucky, they were about to be detected. “When I move, just stay here. I’ll shout for you when it’s safe to follow me.”

The security sweep passed over the airlock and he held his breath, but nothing happened. He ran, before he could think better of it, following the security sweep around the station. The command core, shaped like a doughnut, had a single security station. He ran into the station, found the security computers, and placed his processor block on the access node. There was a long pause, just long enough for Virgil to begin to worry in earnest, and then the system bleeped its readiness. The hacking tools Ghost had loaded onto the processor block, at Virgil’s suggestion, had opened the system to him. It was easy, after all the panic, to access the security systems and reconfigure them. After all, the System did send inspectors to the relay stations and they wouldn't want to set off the alarms themselves. Of course they’d have an override written into the command core.

He sagged for a long moment, and then started to key his implanted communicator before realising that that might set off additional security programs. The station would serve as the exchange hub for any communications and if one part of the system realised that no one was supposed to be on the station, let alone sending communications bursts, it would sound the alarms. Instead, he walked back along the corridors to the airlock and waved to Melody. They were in, and safe.

“Come on,” he said, once he had hugged her. It wasn't profession, but then he’d never worked with a partner before. The workers he’d known hadn’t been interested in committing crimes against the System and the undercity denizens had been too unreliable. “Time for you to do your stuff.”

The station’s command core was located at the centre of the doughnut, just above the naked singularity that provided the power for sending FTL signals instantly across the galaxy. Virgil had been bored stiff by Ghost’s overly long-winded explanation of the system – he’d never met an AI that didn’t like to talk, showing off how smart and knowledgeable it was – but as he walked through the corridor into the command core, he thought he could feel the singularity’s gravitational pull, trying to pull him towards it. He was imagining it, he told himself firmly; the System had been generating and controlling singularities for centuries. If they were on the verge of losing control of it, they would have pushed it back down into the quantum foam before the entire station was destroyed.

He swallowed hard as they came face to face with a set of black hatches. Bypassing each one was simple, and dangerous. Someone had wanted to be sure that no unauthorised personal got into the command core and had, in a fit of brilliance or stupidity, linked each of the hatches to a separate computer system. Virgil found that he had to check every hatch before they even tried to open it, something that took minutes. It felt as if they’d been on the station for hours. He was surprised to discover that it was barely thirty minutes since they’d docked with the relay station’s hull.

Melody made a beeline for the central processor as soon as he opened the final hatch. Virgil found a seat and slumped down in it, trying to avoid showing his exhaustion. Melody’s hands were flying across the processor, opening up channels she could use to get into the mainframe. Ghost had turned her into a webhead, enhancing the implants the rebels had already given her to allow her to interface with almost any computer system. Virgil rapidly lost track of what she was doing and found himself pacing the compartment, hoping – praying – that she’d be finished soon, just so they could leave before they were caught. In his experience, if the alarms went off, it was time to haul ass before the Peacekeepers caught up with you. So far, she’d avoided setting off any alarms, but how long would her luck last?

“I’m into the main system,” Melody informed him. Her voice was distant and she didn’t even look at him. Virgil had worked with a webhead before and knew that that was their normal appearance. The truly devoted webheads spent all of their time online, plugged into the interstellar network through VR implants and couches, rarely coming back into the real world for anything more pressing than food and drink. The System hated them, of course, and hunted them down ruthlessly. “It’s not as complex as I had thought.”

“Then it’s probably a trap,” Virgil said, uselessly. Melody was barely aware of his presence any longer. She was using her implants to access the DataStream and make changes, ones carefully suggested by Ghost. Once she’d uploaded their dummy credentials, even the System would be hard-pressed to declare them forgeries. “Watch your back in there, sweetheart.”

Melody ignored him. Virgil returned to fretting, pacing the compartment and looking in each of the cupboards. They were bare, apart from a set of datachip readers – without the chips – and a set of playing cards. A quick look revealed them to be pornographic, displaying men and women in various exotic poses, including some that Virgil had only considered theoretically possible. The System officially frowned on pornography, but it served to help keep the masses quiet – and convinced that, by looking at the material, they were rebelling. He’d seen too many workers get lost in the porn, using it to satisfy their desire to rebel, if only in a small way. The System had had centuries to learn how to control and distract human populations. By now, Virgil suspected from hints that Ghost and Jan had dropped, they were on the verge of destroying humanity’s last rebellious urges.

He took another breath and walked towards the food processor at the far end of the compartment. It took a moment to dismantle the front of the machine, and then start moving some of the chips inside into a different pattern. He smiled to himself as he sealed the machine; it was petty, he knew, but whoever tried to use the machine would be in for an unpleasant surprise. If they’d had time, he would have overridden the Asimov Protocols programmed into the machine and got it to serve poisoned coffee. That would have alarmed the System no end.

“Done,” Melody said, as she stood up. Even in helmet and shipsuit, she was beautiful. “I put our dummy identities into the system and now we have to get out of here.”

Virgil frowned. “You took that long to do it?”

Melody looked away. “I had to program in an extra series of ID codes,” she said, finally. Virgil preferred to spend as little time with his fellow humans as possible, but even he could tell when he was being lied to. Melody might have avoided capture and exile to Rupert’s World if she’d been better at dissembling when the Peacekeepers came sniffing around. “If I hadn’t, we would have failed one of the security checks…”

“Never mind,” Virgil said. Webheads had plenty of dummy accounts all over the System’s system. For all he knew, she’d taken the chance to log into hers and pass on messages to other webheads. There was no point in calling her on it. “I think we’d better get moving.”

Breaking through the security barriers had been tricky; rebuilding them so that no one ever realised that they’d broken into the station would have been impossible. Luckily, Jennifer had ordered them to leave the station open, so they could get back inside quickly if they had to insert other orders into the security network. Besides, Virgil had checked the station’s logs and concluded that it would be at least six months before the relay station was due another inspection.

Holding her hand, he led her back to the tiny spacecraft and they blasted away from the relay station. They took as much care getting away as they had coming in, heading out of the system for hours before the Brilliant finally materialised out of hyperspace to pick them up. If they’d triggered the alarms even when leaving, Ghost had warned them, the System might investigate. And if their cover was blown when they were at Blindside Base, they’d be dead.

“In and out without making a fuss,” he said, as the spacecraft was pulled into Brilliant’s hanger bay. “Just the way I like it.”

“I had noticed,” Melody said, primly.

And then she laughed at his expression. “Well done,” she said. “And now the hard work begins.”

 

moar!