The Forgotten

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

“This uniform feels funny.”

Jennifer bit her cheek to keep herself from smiling. Alvin loved the powered combat armour. He’d even started using Ghost to rebuild the powered armour stored on the ship until it suited him perfectly, to the point where he had suggested taking it back to the Undercity and using it to outfit a TechRat army. It was on Jennifer’s list of things to do, but it would have to wait until she was ready to move on Centre.

“As long as it looks impressive,” she said, “that’s all that matters.”

The System’s Inspectors were important people. They reported directly to the very highest levels of the System and a word from them could make or break a career. Whenever Inspectors arrived, the System’s population bent over backwards to accommodate them, whatever they wanted. Some of the stories whispered among the workers had Inspectors using their power to seduce girls, or support criminals in exchange for vast bribes, but they were only stories. Jennifer couldn't remember hearing of any corrupt Inspectors in real life. The System engineered them for honest and rigorous inspection.

Alvin did have a point, she concluded reluctantly. The Inspectors wore golden tunics, in comparison to the Enforcer black, and it was decorated with silver tassels and ribbons that marked an Inspector’s position in the ranks. The uniform she’d had Ghost produce for Alvin marked him out as a low-level Inspector; the one she’d had produced for herself marked her as a very high-level Inspector. She’d considered branding herself a Supreme Inspector, the very highest rank, but whoever was in command of Blindside Base might well know all of the Supreme Inspectors personally. The System wouldn't put someone it didn't completely trust in command of the base. It was too important to risk having an incompetent screw up the whole program.

But that would work in her favour, she told herself. The System valued loyalty and obedience to appointed authority – and her merry gang of rebels would look exactly like appointed authority. If they were lucky, they’d be able to get into Blindside Base and steal the Blindside before anyone realised that something was wrong. And if they weren't lucky...well, she had contingency plans for that. Some of them might even work.

“It itches,” Alvin grumbled. “Why can't I wear my armour?”

“Because the System’s Inspectors don’t wear armour,” Jennifer said. “They would rely on their combat bio-modifications and augmented systems to handle any fighting that might be necessary. And if you did wear armour, someone would start asking questions we wouldn't be able to answer. And then...”

“I get the point,” Alvin said, quickly. “We’d be caught and executed.”

Jennifer nodded and turned to Ali. The young girl was wearing a silver uniform that marked her out as a trainee. Jennifer had considered giving her another Inspectors uniform, but while Alvin could look big and impressive, Ali simply didn't have the presence to pull it off. Besides, as a trainee Inspector, Ali could ask stupid questions without actually arousing suspicions. She vaguely recalled stories about trainee Inspectors from her past life. They were often shared among other ranks, in strict secrecy. Insulting an Inspector to his or her face could result in immediate punishment.

“Don’t worry,” she said. Ali had carried out raids on the System-controlled areas of Centre, but that was a far cry from stealing an entire starship. There would be no line of retreat, if everything went badly wrong. “They won’t even look twice at you.”

She smiled as reassuringly as she could and turned to Virgil. The petty thief wore an Enforcer’s uniform as if he were born to it. He’d claimed that he’d worn several uniforms while operating on Centre and Jennifer believed him, if only because few workers or low-level Peacekeepers would ever look past a uniform. Once he’d managed to reprogram his tracking implant, he’d have been able to pass for almost anyone. It was probably also how he’d been caught, in the end. The RIs that monitored the network might well have noticed an implant that changed its ID every so often and sent the Peacekeepers.

“You look just right,” Jennifer said, giving him a smile. Virgil, who never seemed to be quite able to meet her eyes, smiled back, and then pulled an Enforcer persona around him. He looked almost realistic to Jennifer and would be completely convincing to anyone who didn't know many Enforcers personally. As an Enforcer, he would command Jennifer’s personal escort; nine of Alvin’s trainees from the Undercity and Ashfall. They would be wearing light powered combat armour. It was standard procedure when an Inspector left the Core Worlds. Blindside Base would have been more surprised if she had turned up without bodyguards.

“Thank you, Inspector,” Virgil said. The nervous, half-stammering voice was gone. Instead, there was the very model of an Enforcer; stern, unyielding and utterly determined to strip away all the lies and deceptions until the essential truth was revealed, and then pass judgement. And Enforcer judgements were often lethal. Jennifer suspected, from the memories that had floated out of the locked compartment of her mind, that the base would probably have a small number of personnel who were involved in something illegal. An Enforcer would be fawned over, if only to make him go away sooner. “I serve at the pleasure of the System.”

“Creepy,” Jennifer said. Melody, standing next to Virgil, elbowed him. Jennifer had been quite pleased to watch the growing relationship between the hacker and the sneak thief, if only because Melody made Virgil a braver man. He might not fight for himself, but he would fight for her. “An Inspector is onboard my ship.”

“Let’s hope not, or we will all be for the high jump,” Virgil said, dropping the pose. To Jennifer’s eyes, he suddenly looked like a man wearing a false uniform. She could only hope that Blindside Base’s personnel would be less perceptive. “Probably literally, knowing the System.”

“Probably,” Jennifer said. She cast her eyes over the bodyguards – all wearing armour that covered their faces – and smiled. They looked perfect, as they should. Ghost had used real System templates to make their armour, along with ID codes that matched the current System database. Given enough time – and a reason to check – the System would weed out all the false identities, but by then Jennifer hoped to cause enough havoc that the System would have better things to do. “You’re all perfect.”

She linked her mind into Ghost’s network and sent a question. “Is the spacer ready?”

“Perfectly ready,” Ghost said. The AI had tried to talk her out of leading the mission in person, reminding her that her survival was of paramount importance, but Jennifer had refused to accept its arguments. The rebels weren’t quite certain what to make of her; yes, she’d stolen a cruiser from under the System’s nose, but she’d also led the System to Ashfall. Ghost had monitored some muttering among the rebels when they thought they were alone, some wondering if Jennifer was actually working for the System. None of them seemed to have drawn the connection between the Dark Lady and Jennifer, but even without that they were feeling careful. She couldn't blame them for it. “The Spacer has all the proper ID codes to pass muster. The only way they could catch you out is to check against the central manifest and they won’t have access to it.”

Jennifer nodded. Only very high-ranking personnel had access to the central manifest, the list of System officers and agents stored back on Centre. She and Ghost had spent days trying to figure out how they could break into the system and copy the vital files – or erase them, just to cause havoc – but neither of them had managed to work out a solution. At least no one on Blindside Base should have access, yet it worried Jennifer. It was the one hole in their cover that they hadn't been able to plug.

She cleared her throat. “We depart in two hours,” she said. Brilliant would deliver them to the edge of the star system, and then hide in the system’s outskirts. The arrival of the starship should pass unnoticed, although Jennifer and Ghost had worked out contingency plans to hide in hyperspace if one of the System’s cruisers took an interest in the unexplained entry signature. “Report to the spacer in one hour, forty minutes. We will have to prepare for departure.”

The small team dispersed; Alvin to check in with the rest of his team, Ali to go to the bridge, where she would practice working the helm, and Virgil and Melody to their quarters. Jennifer watched them go, shaking her head slowly. No one had questioned her, once they had worked out the plan. It was cunning, devious...and too many things could go wrong. She had the uneasy feeling that most of the plan’s details had floated out of the locked part of her mind, where the Dark Lady hid. And if something went wrong...

She pushed the thought aside. They’d planned for every contingency they could think of, from being discovered at once to the sudden arrival of a genuine inspection team while they were pretending to inspect Blindside Base. And yet she knew that no battle plan ever survived contact with the enemy. Once they were on the base, they would be at risk...

The thought refused to fade. Did she have a right to risk herself...?

Shut up, she told that part of her mind. I don’t have a choice.

***​

Melody had been careful, very careful. The data packet she’d recovered from the System’s relay station had been shifted from her implants into a standard datapad, using her communicator rather than the starship’s internal communication’s hub. Once she’d copied the file, she’d decrypted it and passed the datapad to Captain Vaster, carefully not mentioning everything aloud. He would have preferred transferring the file directly into his implants, but that would have raised too many eyebrows. Ghost might not mean to spy on the rebel crew, yet the AI was built by the System and it spied constantly. Everything from idle chatter to encrypted data would be picked up, stored and decrypted by the AI. And if it found anything worrying, it would alert its human mistress.

Captain Vaster knew how AIs thought. Indeed, he hadn't been surprised by the reluctance of the AIs in the Forbidden Sector to get involved directly, even though they might well have possessed weapons and technology that could be used against the System. Unlike humans, who made intuitive leaps from place to place without understanding the precise chain of logic that had led them there, AIs worked from a given point and kept going until they figured it out. Their sheer processing power allowed them to think much faster than any human and they could figure out all the angles before any human mind had even figured out that there were angles. And yet they were limited. An AI might miss something that a human, with a human’s awareness of other humans, would pick up instantly. Even a bonded AI, with human thought routines running through the AI core, would have difficulty understanding human feelings. It might well miss something significant.

Keying the datapad, he made a show of reading for enjoying, while skimming through the file quickly and efficiently. Out of habit, he’d searched his compartment for bugs almost as soon as it had been assigned to him; also out of habit, he’d carefully avoided removing any of the bugs. He'd been used to living in a goldfish bowl since long before the System had finally caught up with him and dumped his ass on Rupert’s World. AIs didn't get complacent, not in the sense that humans did if someone remained uninteresting for so long, but they did have a tendency to believe that electronic surveillance picked up everything. With careful thought and planning, anyone could make sure that they were in a blind spot before doing anything incriminating. The real challenge lay in lurking within that blind spot without arousing suspicion.

The file wasn't conclusive, but that wasn't a surprise. The System wasn't in the habit of revealing information about its officers or personnel. It wanted to be seen as a force of nature, a vast impersonal organisation stretching across the stars; personality, even that of a loyal and feared officer, would spoil it’s ambition. But the rebels had been able to patch together some files. Melody had risked exposing the hack into the relay station when she accessed files hidden on the galactic net – and Jennifer would be furious if she found out – but there was no other choice. Besides, no angry cruiser had dropped out of hyperspace, baying for blood.

Captain Vaster skimmed through the file – and froze. The picture staring up at him was a near-match for the painting from Ashfall. A lone rebel had infiltrated a System Navy base and returned with a sizeable amount of intelligence, back when the rebel had believed that they had a chance against the System. One of those titbits of intelligence was a handful of personnel files. Some details – names, mainly – had been scrubbed, but there’d been enough to put names to rumours. And the rebels had learned the face, if not the name, of their most dangerous enemy. The woman they called the Dark Lady.

The shock almost made him scream in frustration. How had he missed it? He’d looked at the painting on Ashfall without drawing a link between Jennifer and the Dark Lady. In hindsight, perhaps, it was obvious. The Dark Lady had darker hair, a System-designed uniform and a cold unyielding expression, a force of nature personified. Jennifer looked younger, more innocent and actually caring. Yet there was no longer any room for doubt. They were the same person.

He considered, briefly, a clone. The System had been known to clone people – Researchers and Scientists, mainly – and there was no reason why they couldn't have cloned the Dark Lady. And yet...Jennifer didn't seem to be aware of it, but her mannerisms made it clear that she had served on a starship before...and was used to serious command. Even the most enthusiastic rebel would have expressed some doubts about taking on the entire System; Jennifer had just taken it in her stride. How much of the story she’d given them was true?

For a moment, he considered taking his sidearm and simply gunning her down before she could react. He abandoned the idea a moment later. Jennifer was bonded to an AI, after all, and the AI would respond to her death by going mad. And, if he’d killed its human partner, the AI would hardly accept him as the starship’s new commander. It would be more likely to trigger the self-destruct and blow them all to hell.

No, he concluded. He’d have to do something that would result in survival, both of him personally and that of the rebel cause. If Jennifer had been sent to work herself into the rebellion’s good graces...

He shook his head. All he could do now was bide his time, and wait.

***​

Virgil had been tempted to ‘accidentally’ report late to the spacer, but Melody had dragged him along after making love, a long shower and a final meal in their shared cabin. His stomach was churning the way it always did before he embarked on a job, making him wonder if he was going to throw up. He had no idea how people like Jennifer and Captain Vaster managed to remain calm when going into harm’s way. But then, they were brave people, while he...it was all he could do to remain calm when he felt like running around screaming. Or possibly running as far from the System as possible.

“Time to go,” Jennifer said. She was grinning from ear to ear. Virgil gave her a dark look – which fazed her not a whit – and stepped past her into the spacer. It had been reconfigured according to the System’s plans and was surprisingly luxurious. Those Inspectors and their Enforcers travelled in style. Not that he was surprised, of course; in his experience, those who had the nerve to buck the System bucked the System.

Melody took his hand as they settled down into sinfully comfortable chairs. A man could get used to it, he told himself. It was almost worth trying to see if he could dupe his way into the Inspector’s training centre...he shook his head, cutting off that line of thought before it got any further. The System selected its Inspectors and Enforcers from childhood and brought them up in an isolated camp. They wouldn't appreciate him trying to apply to join them.

“We will leave the Brilliant and fly into the system under our own power,” Jennifer explained, as she took the pilot’s seat. That wasn't particularly authentic – Inspectors had other people to pilot for them – but it wasn't unknown. “Once we get into the system itself, we will have to be an inspection team – at least until the time comes to move. A single wrong word and we will be exposed. If you’re not part of the main team, keep your mouths shut. Use subvocal encrypted communicators if necessary. They won’t be surprised if we speak without allowing them to hear.”

She grinned. “And now,” she said, as she keyed a switch on the console, “let the fun begin.”

“Great,” Virgil groused, as they started to glide out the hanger deck. There was a faint lurch in the artificial gravity as they separated from the cruiser’s internal field, but otherwise there was no sense of movement. “We’re on our way to a place where if they catch us they will shoot us and ask questions later.”

“Actually, they’ll just shoot us,” Jennifer said, deadpan. She gave him what was probably intended to be another reassuring smile. “The System does not encourage asking questions.”

 

Chris,you are truly a talented author...I look forward to your posts daily...

 

Great story ..... Totally enjoying it
Thanks

 

That will teach me to take the weekend off and not read this. I finally had the time to catch up. Great job.

 

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

Lieutenant Cindy gritted her teeth as the spacer started to enter the hanger bay. Blindside Base had been an unexpected posting, but her father had been a career naval officer and Commodore Adamson, the Base’s commanding officer, had been an old friend of her father, years ago. They’d saved each other’s life or something. And so her father, calling in favours, had arranged for her transfer to the base. If she performed well, she’d been told, she could be promoted to Lieutenant-Commander ahead of time.

But this sudden inspection could make or break her career. She’d thought, at first, that being selected to receive the inspection party was a reward, until she realised that it was more of a punishment. The inspection had been announced at short notice – barely a day’s warning, which was fairly typical – and the base’s personnel had been working overtime to prepare for their visitors. A single nut and bolt out of place, she’d been warned, could bring down the wrath of the Inspectors like a hammer. Her commander had placed her right in the line of fire, where she could absorb their wrath if necessary.

Thanks a lot, Dad, she thought. She didn’t say it out loud, not when every compartment on the base was thoroughly monitored, with even chance remarks often leading to a grilling from the security officers or a mandatory session with the base’s moral officer. The thought of being accused of harbouring individualist thoughts – or even dissent – was chilling. Even in the System Navy, officers and men were sometimes taken away and never seen again. I **** this up and my entire career will be ruined.

She checked herself covertly against the nearest reflective service, pushing down the impulse to rub her forehead. Her CO had insisted on dress uniform, which in Cindy’s case had been expertly tailored to draw attention to her breasts and buttocks without actually quite violating the regulations. She’d been told that whatever the Inspectors wanted, they were to get – and if that included access to her body, they could have that too. Cindy felt like an overdressed Entertainer. They wouldn't take her seriously.

The spacer settled down to the deck with a loud thump. Cindy bit her lip to keep from smiling. Pilots were the same all over, even those working for the Inspectorate; they were always pushing the limits of their craft as far as they could go. She wondered if the Inspectors would be pleased with their pilot or if they wouldn't care. It was rumoured that Inspectors weren't even human, perhaps something spliced together in a gene tank and trained to serve the System. Who knew? Perhaps they just didn’t care about the small details.

She pulled herself to attention, as perfectly as she could, as the hatch started to hiss open. The first to disembark from the spacer were a team of nine armoured soldiers, wearing golden markings that marked them out as serving the Inspectorate. No one else would have been permitted to wear armour and bring weapons onto the base without clearance from very high authority, but Inspectors were a law unto themselves. She knew that the CO – and the base’s security officer – would be fuming when they saw the armoured troopers, yet there was nothing they could do. The Inspectors could relieve them from duty at once, if the whim struck them.

Cindy braced herself as the last armoured trooper seemed to stare at her, and then joined his comrades in a line, drawing attention to the next three people to descend from the Spacer. One wore a golden tunic marking her out as a trainee; the other two wore the standard Inspector uniform. The first Inspector was the biggest and strongest man Cindy had ever seen; the second, a surprisingly tall woman, scared the life out of her. Her eyes seemed to see everything, as if she could gaze into Cindy’s mind and see all her secrets. Perhaps she could. Rumour had attributed many stranger powers to Inspectors. The fourth man, an Enforcer dressed in black, looked utterly forbidding – and completely ruthless. Cindy held herself to attention, hoping that she wouldn't screw up. The Inspectors would not be amused.

The female Inspector, who was clearly their leader, marched forward until her face was almost pressing against Cindy’s face, close enough to kiss. “I am Inspector Gen,” she said, in a voice that just dared Cindy to object. “I…request permission to board this station.”

“Permission granted,” Cindy said. Mercifully, her voice didn’t drop into a betraying stammer. “In the name of Commodore Adamson, I welcome you to Blindside Base.”

“I must insist that you immediately activate Quiet Storm protocols,” the woman rapped out. If she was offended that the Commodore hadn’t come to greet her personally, she didn’t show it. Cindy couldn’t pick out a trace of emotion on the woman’s cold, inscrutable face. “While we are onboard this station, there are to be no transmissions from the station’s crew to anyone. Step down the connection to the galactic net to level one; it is not to be brought up again until we depart.”

Cindy knew that that, too, would annoy the Scientists and Researchers on the base, but the Inspectors had the legal right to demand anything they liked. And besides, it made a certain kind of sense. The Inspectors wouldn't want any reports to go out until they had completed theirs and forwarded it to their superiors.

“Yes, Inspector,” she said, finally. A quick query to her implant revealed that the command staff, watching through the hanger bay’s surveillance monitors, had already activated the protocols. Blindside Base wouldn't be talking to anyone until the Inspectors had departed, their mission complete. “The communications array is already being cycled down.”

“Excellent,” Inspector Gen said. Her face didn’t change one iota. “We will now inspect the Blindside itself.”

“But…” Cindy’s voice trailed away as the Inspector’s cold eyes met hers. The Inspectors could go anywhere on the base, be it the fabricators used to construct the Blindside to the crew’s personal quarters. “As you command, Inspector.”

Sweat trickling down her backside, she turned and led the way down the corridors towards the interior hanger. Blindside Base was odd, even by the standards of most science colonies; there was an interior hanger with no easy way to get the starship out into open space. It had taken her several weeks, since she had been assigned to the base by the grace of her father’s connections, to figure out why the designers had been allowed such a vast oversight. The answer still made her smile. Blindside Base was right on the cutting edge of the System’s quest to master all possible technologies.

The crew had been warned to stay out of their way, although a handful of the younger officers couldn’t resist the chance to sneak a peek at the Inspectors and their support team. Cindy was uneasily aware of the armoured helmets following her every move, the troopers just waiting for the order to blow her to bits with plasma fire if she failed the Inspectors in any way. It had been years since anyone had been executed on a System Navy facility by the Inspectors, but it was a perfectly legal punishment. Cindy prayed that everything went well as they passed through the first of three security hatches. If the Inspectors had demanded it, the security officer would have had to open all the hatches simultaneously – a direct breach of regulations – to allow them to march right into the hanger compartment, yet the Inspectors seemed content to wait until they were cleared through each of the hatches. Cindy’s implanted sensors revealed that they were sharing subvocal messages using their own implants, something that was considered very rude – but who would lecture an Inspector on politeness? She doubted that anyone was that brave, or stupid.

Cindy allowed herself a smile as they stepped through the final hatch and into the hanger compartment. Ahead of them, floating in the middle of a vast hanger bay, was the Blindside, the revolutionary starship that was going to change the entire System, once they ironed out the remaining bugs and launched her into hyperspace. She was smaller than a cruiser, only a mere one hundred meters long, yet the sight always took Cindy’s breath away. The starship was shaped – in a rare display of whimsy for the System – like a bird in flight. The weapons and sensors had been worked into the wings, while the revolutionary drive nodes – the key to the ship’s strange nature – had been built into the tail. They cast an eerie blue light over the entire hanger bay.

Inspector Gen showed the first sign of emotion Cindy had seen. She looked…impressed, and perhaps awed. Very few people would ever see a ship floating in the middle of a habitat, not when all other starships were constructed at shipyards, built in open space. If the antigravity field ever failed, Blindside would crash down onto the deck and the entire colony would be destroyed when the drive nodes blew. The designers had worked in double and triple backups for the antigravity, just in case. There was even a tractor net that should give them time to evacuate the base before the ship exploded, destroying them all.

“You must be the Inspector,” a voice said. Cindy winced inwardly, suddenly feeling consumed with the urge to run. Few Scientists had anything reassembling a sense of social propriety. “Welcome to our lair. I’m Scientist Thande.”

The Inspector shook the Scientist’s hand without apparent concern. Thande, like most Scientists, was a law unto himself, just like the Inspectors. His too-bright eyes showed the signs of drug addiction, the cerebral-cortex enhancers he’d been using since he’d graduated from the training centre and assigned to the base. Cindy’s father had told her, on one of her rare shore leaves on Agate, that Scientists lived fast and often young, burnt out by the strain of pushing their brains to the very limits. Thande was twenty-five years old and looked over ninety. If it hadn’t been for intensive genetic enhancement built into his body, he would have burned himself out long ago.

Scientists were either moody, and uncommunicative, or utterly unable to shut up. Thande was one of the latter, happily chatting away to anyone or everyone about his work. Cindy understood about one word in a hundred when he chatted to her, but others understood more – which was at least partly why Thande was escorted by a pair of security officers and denied shore leave. He might have blabbed to the wrong person. The Inspector didn’t seem taken aback by his chatter. If anything, she was drinking in his words. Cindy wondered if she were building a case against the Scientist, before realising that even an Inspector would have difficulty removing Thande from Blindside Base. The entire project would have to be rebuilt from scratch without him.

“Oh, we couldn’t take any old material and use it to build old Blindside up there,” Thande was saying. “Ordinary matter in hyperspace falls back into normal space without a drive field. Very interesting how the dimension forcefully rejects anything from our space unless forced to do so, but rather useless for our purposes. And then there’s the colossal power required to force a gate into hyperspace…utterly inefficient for real flight. We had to do something clever, very clever. But there’s no matter in hyperspace…”

His voice dropped. “Or is there?” He asked. “We sail out into a dimension that operates by different physical laws than our own and we kid ourselves that we understand it? Are we men, or are we crabs living in a rocky pool on the beach, completely unaware of the wider world outside the pool? What might lurk in hyperspace that would be attracted to us eventually? I have theories that hyperspace might be the key to opening up another dimension. Perhaps there are other dimensions and people there are watching us while we search in vein for them.”

Cindy wanted to cover her eyes. Scientists tended to over-analyse a situation, any situation. Thande had taken vague reports of unknown objects being sighted in hyperspace and turned it into a paranoid delusion about higher entities living within hyperspace, watching the human race and drawing plans to slaughter every last human. Scientists tended to drive themselves into a paranoid state as they approached the end of their lives. It was a worrying sign. Cindy knew that some of the base’s staff were already fretting about the need for a replacement.

“And what makes hyperspace become hyperspace?” Thande continued. “Simple! Hyperspace is a higher-energy universe than our own. Perhaps the physical dimensions of hyperspace are actually smaller than normal space, compressing hyperspace relative to our own universe. And we figured out how to tap some of that energy for ourselves. We figured out how to create hyperspace power taps.”

He winked at the Inspector. “We have to be careful through,” he added, quietly, as if he wanted to whisper a secret. “We make one mistake with the hyperspace power tap and the whole thing goes boom! Very inconvenient if we want to actually use that power for something, isn’t it? I worked out that we could feed power from our universe back into hyperspace, creating a field that attracts energy storms and taps them while we are still in hyperspace. It took years to build a working model. They kept blowing up.”

Thande laughed, as if he was on the verge of madness. “But once we had a working tap, we were able to synthesise hyperspace matter. Hypermatter? A whole new element that exists only in hyperspace. And it doesn’t want to leave.” He chuckled. “All of a sudden, we had a way of actually building in hyperspace. The new element, belonging to hyperspace, just sits there and anchors other material in hyperspace! Can you imagine the sudden opportunities that have been opened up, right in front of us? We could explode the depths of hyperspace, link entire worlds and star systems together…”

“All of which would be useless if it wasn't for my research,” a colder voice added. Scientist Torquemada had been a later addition to Blindside Base, when it had become clear that the System’s AIs and RIs couldn’t handle Blindside. Something about the vessel made it impossible for the AIs to operate it. That too should have been impossible. The Scientists and the Researchers were still tearing their hair out in frustration, trying to make sense of it. Thande’s only comment had been that hyperspace operated under different laws and the AIs were built to function in normal space. “I solved the problem of controlling the craft once it was powered by hyperspace matter…”

“Biological nonsense,” Thande sneered. The two Scientists fought like cats and dogs, with their support crews caught in the middle. “Without my generators, your research would be as useless as an escape pod in the middle of the desert. Go back to grafting ears on cows and inserting human brains into donkeys.”

Torquemada opened his mouth for a rebuttal, but the cold voice of Inspector Gen cut through their words. “Is Blindside fully-functional?” She asked. “Could the ship be launched now, if necessary?”

“It needs further tests,” Thande snapped. No one else would have dared to speak to an Inspector in such a tone. Cindy cringed inside, already imagining her next posting on a deserted asteroid base – if they didn’t just lobotomise her and put her in a brothel for the worker caste. “The biological computers designed by my inferior…”

Torquemada’s eyes flashed fire. “Inferior? Without my research, your experiments would be nothing more than interesting party tricks. You might as well design a teleporter that only removed clothes…”

“....Veterinarian have been interfaced with the vessel’s automated systems, but more testing is needed,” Thande continued, ignoring Torquemada. “Unfortunately, hyperspace does tend to affect the mind; humans have been known to go insane if they stare out into hyperspace and its raging energy storms. Quite why this happens is a mystery. It is possible that access to hyperspace somehow unlocks potentials within the human genome and madness results.”

“More likely they were forced to read one of your research papers,” Torquemada injected. “I always read them when I want to go to sleep.”

“The prospect of the Blindside going mad is rather worrying,” Thande remarked, pretending to ignore his rival. “Even with only a handful of phase cannons, the vessel would be uniquely dangerous to a more common starship. There would be no need to devote power to the drives, for example; the ship could devote all of its power to weapons and shields. And Blindside wouldn't suffer from the same limitations as standard starships. It is possible that there will be some reverse effect encountered in hyperspace that will define new limitations for the ship, but…”

Cindy saw a hint of exasperation in the Inspector’s eyes. “But if we were to insist on a flight trial now,” Inspector Gen asked, “could the ship be launched?”

“Easily,” Thande said. “All you’d have to do is disengage the drive. The Blindside would simply drop back into hyperspace. Once there, you would just move away from the base’s location in the corresponding region of normal space and reactivate the drive. And that would be it.”

He paused. “Of course,” he added, “getting her back into the hanger would be tricky.”

“That doesn’t matter,” the Inspector said. Cindy blinked in surprise. The subvocal – and encrypted – traffic between the Inspector and her team had just doubled. And they were sending it directly rather than using the base’s communications hub. “All that matters is that we can take the ship.”

Cindy felt a flash of alarm, but she was too late. There was a brilliant flash of blue light and she crashed down into darkness. She was barely aware of hitting the deck just before she blacked out completely.

 

I have a love/hate relationship with how each chapter ends. I love the suspense but hate having to wait for the next posting. LOL. Great job as always Chris.

Jason

 

I can't wait for another one!

 

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

The last of the technicians collapsed to the deck as Jennifer shot him with a stunner.

“Good work,” she said. She accessed her implants and opened a channel into the base’s security computer. Wild had provided the codes, but she’d brought along some of the AI-designed software, just in case. The stunners had set off alarms within the base’s computer core. She attempted to override them, but without success. “Melody, convince the computers that they’re our friends.”

She twisted over to the hanger doors and motioned for the armoured troopers to take point, guarding the only access route into the hanger. The security officers – once they realised that it wasn't a very unpleasant drill, which might take them some time – would probably try to break in through the hatch, and then think of teleporting into the hanger. Virgil pulled a portable jammer out of his bag and activated it. No one would be teleporting into the hanger without having their molecules scattered across several kilometres.

“They’re not responding,” Melody said. “They’re triple-encrypted. I can't convince one of them without convincing all three and I can’t convince all three at once.”

Jennifer nodded. An AI could process data faster than any human mind; three of them would be impossible to hack simultaneously. She activated one of her implants and opened a channel to Ghost. Every alarm on the base would go off, but it couldn't be helped. Ghost, a bonded AI with software provided by the Rogue AIs, could hack the three computer cores. Without them, Jennifer would have to go to her contingency plan. And that was very much a wild gamble.

She grinned at the thought of Commodore Adamson’s panic. She’d played the role of an Inspector perfectly, guided by half-remembered memories that had been leaking out of her mind. The Commodore knew that the identification codes Jennifer had provided were perfect, which meant that Jennifer was running an exercise on the base or was a rogue Inspector. If he assumed the former, the latter would tear his forces apart; if he assumed the latter, the System would execute him if he was wrong. She wondered how long it would take him to work up the nerve to order armoured security officers to attack the hanger. Probably not long. The System wouldn't have put a coward in command of one of its most vital bases.

“I have cracked the three cores,” Ghost informed her, through the link. “However, the base’s internal security system has been placed into lockdown. I am unable to take control of the security systems and incapacitate the base’s remaining personnel.”

Jennifer smiled. That was more than good enough for her. “Feed the link from the internal sensors into my implants and inform us when they start sending troopers down here after us,” she ordered. “And then key into Blindside’s internal cores. We need to take control of the ship.”

“Working on it,” Ghost said. Jennifer frowned. The AI should have been able to hack into the starship’s computers quicker than it took her to realise that something was wrong. “These computers are...odd.”

“Odd?”

“They do not feel right,” Ghost said. The AI sounded perturbed, almost worried. “I suspect that the System must have made some radical new breakthrough in computer technology as well as hyperspace travel.”

Jennifer had a hundred questions, but she pushed them aside and concentrated on the most important one. “Can you assume control of the ship?”

“Eventually,” Ghost said. “This makes little sense. I can assume control of some systems instantly, but others will require additional time and computing power. I do not understand. System standard procedure is a single unified computer network and a bonded AI. There doesn’t seem to be an AI on the ship, yet it feels alive.”

“Work on it,” Jennifer ordered. Her gaze fell on the stunned bodies. Scientist Torquemada had been boasting about his work on making Blindside function, yet he was a biological researcher. Were the ship’s computers biological? She’d heard somewhere that the concept had been discussed years ago, but AIs existing within a luminal computer matrix were far superior to flesh and bone. And yet...the System would have no compunctions about returning to the technology if it was required to make their latest testbed function properly.

She looked up at the Blindside and frowned. A non-standard design denoted a non-standard class, yet the System could easily have designed its ships for aesthetic reasons as well as functional ones. There was no reason why the Blindside couldn't have been designed by an artist who also happened to be an engineer. And yet...something about the ship’s configuration nagged at her. It meant something important to the locked part of her mind.

“They’re starting to work up their nerve,” Ghost said, distracting her. “The security officer is having his men suit up now, preparing to come and take us by force. I think they’re trying to override the block you placed on outgoing transmissions as well.”

“Smart,” Jennifer commented. If Commodore Adamson spoke directly to the Inspectorate’s Headquarters, he’d find out that he had a team of faux Inspectors on his hands. And then he’d throw everything he had into digging them out before the team escaped with the Blindside. It would be the only thing that would save whatever remained of his career. “Can you prevent them from overriding it?”

“I have partial access to the emergency system, at least until it occurs to them to separate the emergency system from the mainframe,” Ghost reported. “I can block outgoing transmissions until then. I cannot provide physical jamming without moving into engagement range.”

Jennifer winced. With a small squadron of cruisers on patrol, Brilliant couldn't slip into close range without being detected and attacked. The results would not be pleasant. She accessed the internal sensor network and watched as the security guards armoured up, preparing to take the offensive. Their chatter suggested that they weren't sure if it was a drill or a real emergency, but they weren't going to take any chances. Jennifer privately approved, even though it was inconvenient for her personally. Whoever was in charge of the security force wasn't an idiot.

“Alvin, get your men ready to repel attack,” she ordered. Ghost had closed and encrypted the locks on the hatches leading to the hanger, but she doubted that they would stand up for long. They’d either bypass the security processors or simply blast the doors down. “Hold the outer chamber as long as you can.”

“Understood,” Alvin said, calmly. He hadn't been able to bring his armour, but he had managed to slip some upgrades into his Inspector’s uniform. His uniform would provide protection against anything up to a high-powered plasma pistol, unless they hit him in one of the uncovered parts of his body. “We’re on our way.”

Jennifer turned back to the main console and peered over Melody’s shoulder. “Ghost is trying to seduce the ship’s computers,” Melody whispered. Jennifer saw a thin film of sweat, the only sign of tension, on her forehead. “I think I’ve got control of some of the ship’s internal systems.”

“Scan the ship,” Jennifer ordered. “Is there anyone onboard?”

“I don’t think so,” Melody said. She frowned down at the console. “Some of these readings don’t make any sense. The ship doesn't seem to be all there...”

Jennifer was struck, suddenly, by a memory. The Rogue AIs had given her – her past self – a key into the Forbidden Sector. The key had defied the laws of physics – and human perception – and so had the AIs massive complex in hyperspace. She looked up again at the Blindside and wondered; if the ship was partly made from hyperspace material, would it look odd to human eyes? And would its mere presence skew the sensors?

“See if you can get control of the teleporter,” she said, looking back at the small pile of bodies. No one had bothered to secure the prisoners after they’d been stunned heavily; they’d either wake up onboard the Brilliant as prisoners, or the entire mission would fail spectacularly. “Once you do, get them into the Blindside’s hull. We’re taking them with us.”

She studied the two Scientists carefully. The System would have kept careful records of their every activity, but it might take them a while to get the project back up and running without the two geniuses who’d produced the Blindside. It might delay them long enough for Jennifer’s long-term plan to succeed. And if her plan failed, she and the rest of her small force would be dead long before the System mastered the new technology.

“I don’t see why,” Virgil said. The thief sounded peevish. He carried a plasma pistol as well as a stunner, but he hadn’t drawn the weapon. He’d once claimed never to have fired a shot in anger and Jennifer believed him. “What can they do for us that Ghost couldn't do?”

Jennifer smiled. “First, if the System loses them, they will have problems completing the project,” she said. The Scientists were often the most unreliable of the System’s castes. Their brains had a tendency to overload, resulting in early death or madness. Even the System, with its willingness to play around with the human genome, wasn't always able to produce geniuses. For every Jan, Thande or Torquemada, there were a hundred children who never fulfilled their promise. They were often quietly terminated and gene-stripped, or dumped on colony worlds in the hope that they would improve the local genetic heritage. “Second, because we got them into this mess.”

She looked down at Cindy, so young and innocent, determined to do her duty in the face of the terrifying Inspectors. The pretty girl wouldn't be so pretty once the System got through with her, even though she hadn’t had any warning at all, or reason to be suspicious. Jennifer suspected that the Dark Lady would have shot her or left her behind, but Jennifer liked to think that she had a conscience. The fewer people who died, the better. And with Cindy’s bridges so thoroughly burned, she wouldn't have any choice, apart from joining the rebels.

And if she refuses, Captain Vaster can find a safe place to dump her, she added, in the privacy of her own head.

“And third,” she concluded, “because I said so. We don’t have the luxury of time for a debate.”

She walked away from Virgil, towards the hanger doors, when the shooting started. Judging from the blue flashes of light, the enemy troopers had attempted to lead with stunners, rather than more lethal weapons. Jennifer silently applauded their restraint, even as the first enemy troopers were scythed down by her men. They still worried that the whole thing might be an unexpected inspection and security drill. They’d know better after they saw the dead bodies. Even the System had limits.

“I’ve got the teleporter,” Melody said. “Can you pass me the jammer codes?”

“Here,” Jennifer said, locating the file in her implants and transmitting it across to Melody. A jammer could be circumvented by using the right quantum signature in the teleport beam. Jennifer wasn't too worried about the System’s researchers locating the correct signature by trial and error; there were literally trillions upon trillions of possible solutions. Just in case, the jammer rotated through quantum signatures every five minutes. “Move the prisoners, and then prepare to beam us up as well.”

The overhead loudspeaker suddenly clicked on. “ATTENTION,” it thundered. “YOU ARE SURROUNDED AND TRAPPED. SURRENDER NOW AND YOUR LIVES WILL BE SPARED.”

Jennifer frowned for a moment, before understanding. They were terrified of losing the Brilliant, along with the trapped Scientists. If they could take the ship back without a fight, they’d take that bargain. The System would honour the deal, although remaining alive might merely mean a life sentence on a penal world.

“No answer,” she said, to Ghost. “How are they getting on with the outgoing communications link?”

“They’re trying to dissemble it now,” Ghost informed her. “I managed to electrocute one of their workers and the others got a bit more careful, but I would be surprised if they don’t manage to get a transmitter working within the next five minutes. They only need a short-range transmitter to reach the cruisers.”

The hum of a teleporter suddenly echoed in the room and Jennifer reached for her weapon, before realising that it was merely Melody beaming up the prisoners. She scowled as the sound of fighting grew louder, with the System forces using more deadly weapons. Whatever was going through Commodore Adamson’s mind, he had to know that allowing them to take the Blindside would terminate his career. Besides, who in the System Navy didn't want to take a shot at an Inspector?

“I got the prisoners onboard and into one of the holds,” Melody said. “I think they’ll be sealed in until we release them, but none of these systems are actually connected properly.”

“She is correct,” Ghost said. “This ship appears to operate using distributed and decentralised processors. There appears to be no reason for this as far as I can determine. It is most inefficient, even allowing for the prospect of biological computer cores.”

Jennifer smiled at the note of pique in the AI’s tone. Like most AIs, Ghost hated inefficiency. “Perhaps they know more than we do,” she said. It was vaguely possible that the System had designed the Blindside to make hijacking it difficult, but unlikely. “They certainly believed that they had a good reason to install distributed processors rather than a central AI core.”

The mystery could wait, she told herself firmly. “There’s a second problem,” Ghost added. “One of the base’s technical crew has just had the bright idea of trying to break into our spacer. I’ve put the internal defences online, but that won’t slow them down for long.”

“Probably not our problem,” Jennifer said. “Melody, teleport all of us apart from the armoured team into the Blindside. Now.”

The world shimmered around her and faded away, to be replaced a moment later with a starship’s bridge. Whoever had designed the Blindside had definitely been inspired by organic technology, for the bridge was a work of art. It looked organic, even though a quick check revealed that it was nothing more unusual than standard consoles with an organic finish. She keyed the helm console and smiled when the standard interface appeared in front of her. The System, unwilling to teach crewmen more than what they absolutely needed to know, had naturally installed their standard interface, rather than something specialised to the ship.

“Unlock the helm,” she ordered. If someone learned to fly any System starship, they could fly every System starship. She examined the display that sprang up in front of her and grinned. There were some odd points that would need to be examined later, but she could fly it. If she had power. Unless there was something very wrong with her flight skills, Blindside had almost no power on tap. Even the twin fusion cores were offline. The only thing providing power was a link to the base’s power distribution network. “Ghost, report on the ship’s power status.”

“The fusion reactors have been locked,” Ghost said, after a moment. Jennifer felt her blood run cold. “I suspect that the lock is physical. They do not respond to my queries.”

Jennifer accessed her link to the base’s security network. The enemy forces were advancing, pushing her team back. Three of them were already dead, their suits on the verge of self-destructing to obscure their identities when the System’s Enforcers arrived to investigate the attack. Her lips curved into an unpleasant smile. It was quite possible that Wild would be the lead investigator. He certainly had the seniority take control and hide his own tracks.

“Check the weapons,” she ordered. The irony struck her a moment later. She could do everything with the ship, except fly her. And that meant that they were stuck in a trap. “Can we cut our way out of the base?”

“Unlikely,” Ghost said. “The phase cannons will not suffice to burn through the armoured exterior. Launching torpedoes in a confined space will result in blowback and our destruction.”

It can't end like this, Jennifer thought. Deep in her mind, she thought she heard the Dark Lady laughing. She told her to shut up, as savagely as she could, and focused on the mission. There had to be a way out...she kicked herself, a moment later. She’d forgotten where she was, and what the Blindside had actually been created to do. It was a weapon, of course, first and foremost, but it was something else as well.

“Ghost,” she said, slowly, “contact the spacer’s computers. They are to detonate the static bomb in one minutes exactly.”

“Understood,” Ghost said.

A massive explosion rocked the hanger bay. The armoured team had been destroyed. Commodore Adamson was clearly on the verge of absolute panic, for he’d unleashed fusion cannon inside the base. Only a mad or desperate man would risk the blowback. And it was too little, too late.

“Static bomb will detonate in thirty seconds,” Ghost put in.

“Deactivate the drive,” Jennifer ordered. “Now!”

Blindside seemed to shiver – for an instant, Jennifer felt a queasy sensation in her stomach that reminded her of eating too much fruit one summer’s day – and then the hanger bay dissolved into the eerie lights of hyperspace. Jennifer found herself dissolving into giggles at the thought of poor Commodore Adamson. All they’d had to do was deactivate the drive and they’d found themselves in hyperspace. And when the static bomb detonated, the other cruisers would find it impossible to chase Blindside into hyperspace. By the time the gravitational static faded, the rebels would be long gone. He’d have to explain his failure to the System. The System wouldn't be very forgiving.

“Once Ghost catches up with us, we’ll be on our way,” Jennifer said. A whole new starship, a revolutionary drive and the key to hitting the System right where it would hurt. Not bad for a day’s work. “We did it.”

And then the undermanned bridge exploded into cheers.

 

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

“I think you’ll want to see this, Captain.”

Jan, Melody and Virgil had started exploring Blindside as soon as Brilliant arrived and towed the experimental ship away from Blindside Base. Jennifer had spent the time explaining to Captain Vaster what had happened during the mission, and then taking part in a small ceremony to honour the dead. The final explosion had killed nine rebels, something Captain Vaster insisted couldn't be allowed to pass unremarked. Jennifer suspected that the System wouldn't have wasted time with arcane ceremonies, but she’d felt that the ceremony was oddly worthwhile. Who knew what else the System had forgotten?

She walked through the small starship towards the sealed core. Most starships – and all warships, at least built and operated by humans – kept the bridge in the heart of the starship, surrounded by heavy armour. A hit on the bridge would take out the entire ship as well. Blindside, on the other hand, had its bridge uncomfortably close to the outer hull and the sealed AI core at the heart of the ship. Jennifer couldn’t account for the design, unless the System had determined that Blindside would never go into action. And that was atypical for the System.

Blindside felt subtlety wrong to her senses, as if it wasn't quite a standard starship. It wasn’t, of course, but the System hadn’t designed its interior any differently. Jennifer tried to tell herself that she was being silly, yet there was something undeniably odd about the starship. No human had ever been in hyperspace without the protection of a drive field – a human couldn’t exist in hyperspace without a drive field – and perhaps she was experiencing hyperspace directly for the first time. Or perhaps there was something wrong with the unique drive mechanism. The System wouldn't have hesitated to man a ship with an experimental drive and send it out with an expendable crew.

Everything changed the moment she stepped through the hatch into the sealed core. The metal bulkheads were replaced with a substance that seemed oddly familiar, yet it wasn't until she pressed her hand against the pulsing material that she realised that it was flesh. Eerie lights seemed to glimmer through the biological matter, moving to converge on her hand; she moved it, just as she felt a tingle spreading through the system. It was as if she had stepped inside a living creature. In the distance, she could hear what sounded like a heartbeat, or perhaps breathing. The air stank of something foul.

Bracing herself, she walked down the long corridor, watching as lights seemed to flicker on and off at random. The whole impression was of an alien ship, rather than one the System had designed, suggesting that the System might have made the first breakthrough through examining a captured alien vessel, rather than scientific research. She made a mental note to ask the captured Scientists about their work, if she could get a straight answer. Scientists were happy to brag, but both of them had been on the verge of breakdown on Blindside Base and she suspected that their kidnap might have pushed them over the edge.

The ship’s main computer core – if it was a computer core – was held in the centre of the sealed area. It was a great pulsing chamber, an eerie mixture of flesh and mechanical devices, sickening to behold. Jennifer knew that the System had created hundreds of devices to merge biological matter with computer systems – her implanted augmentations were just a variant on the theme – but seeing it out in the open, instead of buried in her flesh, was strange. Perhaps she – her old self – would have been less keen on being augmented if she’d seen the interior of the Blindside. On the other hand, the System would hardly have given her a choice.

At the exact centre of the chamber, a single beam of bright blue light shone down from above, a perfect cylinder. Jennifer’s eyes didn’t adapt at once, oddly. There was something about the light – a variant on a standard stasis field projector – that defied her augmented eyes, as if it didn’t quite belong in a human universe. Jan was standing in front of it, half-hidden in the glare, scanning it with a portable sensor that Ghost had produced for him. There was no sign of either Virgil or Melody. As Jennifer walked forward, the sense of walking into a living being only grew stronger. And then she saw what was floating inside the blue column of light.

It was a naked human form, of indeterminate age. At first, she couldn’t even determine its sex; there were strange connecting filaments linked into its head and groin, tying the figure into the starship’s biological computers. Closer, she could see the first sign of budding breasts, suggesting that the figure was female, although the filaments obscured her vagina from view. Inside a stasis field, even if it wasn’t a perfect stasis field, time would have slowed down remarkably. A thousand years could have passed since the young girl had been inserted into the field, but she would have barely aged a day, perhaps less. Her awareness would have slowed down, to the point where she could wait for years without truly being aware of the outside world. A memory floated to the top of Jennifer’s mind – an experience in a sensory-deprivation tank that had been part of her training, back when she’d served the System – and she shivered. The girl inside the tank, barely growing into womanhood, might have been trapped for years.

She could barely speak. “Why…what have they done?”

Jan’s voice was calm, too calm, as if he was trying to stave off anger. “They figured out how to interface with the biological computers in this ship,” he said. “I have no idea how they did it – I have barely started studying the files we stole from the base before we departed –but I’m fairly sure that that’s what they did. In the tank, her body is frozen while her mind roams free, within the biological network. We’re looking at the Blindside’s mainframe.”

Jennifer shuddered. Ghost was an AI core within the Brilliant, its mind expanding out until it was the Brilliant. And yet, if necessary, Ghost could be removed and transferred to another ship, or shut down if the AI was on the verge of going insane. This…abomination, on the other hand, could never be shut down, or removed. The young girls thought routines would be running through the entire ship. Removing her from the stasis field would kill her.

The thought was horrifying. She couldn’t tell if the girl was awake or aware of her surroundings…or even if she was anything more than a biological computer. The System created the Drones, mindless humans; was there any reason why they couldn’t wipe a human mind and insert it into a computer network? Given enough time and the willingness to forget anything reassembling moral scruples, Jennifer couldn’t see why it couldn’t be done.

“I think that they discovered that AIs had problems when exposed to hyperspace,” Jan said, softly. There was something he wasn't telling her, at least not yet. She could hear it in his voice, even as she couldn’t take her eyes off the girl. “Even the Rogue AIs in the Forbidden Sector don’t interact directly with hyperspace; they use their technology to force hyperspace to accept them as they are. Ghost and the other bonded AIs remain within a hyper-field when they’re in hyperspace. If an AI was exposed directly to hyperspace, I think the result would be madness.”

Jennifer looked a question at him. “Hyperspace operates under different physical laws than our own space, normal space,” Jan explained, slowly. “We adapt to the new laws; an AI, built to effectively worship the laws of physics as we understand them, would struggle. I think that they’d go into a Kirk Spiral and collapse.”

“Maybe,” Jennifer said. “I thought that they were programmed to avoid paradoxes.”

“They are, in normal space,” Jan said. “If an RI was told to consider a paradox, high-level thought routines would realise that it was a paradox and either ignore it or signal for help from higher authority. It wouldn't start diverting all of its processor cycles to the paradox and eventually lock up its own systems. An AI would realise that it was a paradox much sooner. You couldn’t convince an AI to jam up considering paradoxes.

“But in hyperspace, outside the protective bubble, the AI would be trying to come to grips with laws that make no sense. Nothing would work right; even the most advanced AIs the System has could handle hyperspace without heavy modification. I’m not sure it is possible – or at least it wasn't possible until now. Perhaps we could be looking at a revolution in computer affairs as well as drive technology.”

“Right,” Jennifer said. She looked back towards the girl, hanging in front of them. “Is she alive in there?”

“Of course she’s alive,” Jan said. “The flesh they’ve used to produce the organic processors is remarkable. I think they must have designed it from scratch, because it has the most fantastic regeneration properties. Even nanotech would be hard pressed to match it. The cells are constantly regenerating, healing from the disruptive effects caused by funnelling hyperspace energy through the ship. This ship is a marvel. If we didn’t have the System to worry about…”

Jennifer held up a hand. “Wrong question,” she admitted. “Is she aware of her own surroundings?”

“You mean, is she more than a glorified mainframe,” Jan corrected. “The truth is that I don’t know. She’s plugged into everything on the ship – the organic-machine interface is comparable to your implants, although this ship is clearly more advanced – but there are also hardware processors as well, allowing the crew a far greater degree of independence from the AI. I honestly don’t know if she knows what the System has done to her. I doubt it.”

“Why?” Jennifer asked. “If she couldn’t think for herself, what good would she be?”

“Her mental state would be of paramount importance to the ship,” Jan said. “If she knew what she was, if she knew that she’d been plugged into a machine and would never be allowed to leave, she might go mad. I’d expect the System to have programmed her not to become aware of herself, or perhaps not to start trying to break out of her inserted commands. There are implants threaded through her brain, far more advanced than your Enforcer friend gave to those poor children. I think she is little more than a Drone.”

Jennifer nodded, hoping that he was right. She would have preferred to be a mindless automaton, rather than be aware of what had been done to her. And she had been, hadn’t she? After her mind had been wiped, she’d been programmed to remain aloof from the world, barely aware of her surroundings. If she hadn’t encountered Ali, she might have continued to sleepwalk through life until she died, or the System decided that it wanted her back.

“I did hear, back when I was working on nanotech, that the System was considering inserting crippled humans into mind-machine interfaces,” Jan added. “Even with the System’s genetic engineering and medical technology, some people become paralysed from the head down and remain trapped in their own bodies. The idea was to link them into biological interfaces, so they’d eventually become part of a machine – the machine would be their body, in a manner of speaking. All of their brain connections were still there, you see, they just couldn’t move their bodies. It might have been merciful.”

Jennifer frowned. “But it didn’t work?”

“It worked, but not well enough,” Jan admitted. “Humans who became paralysed after they’d matured found it impossible to adapt to their new bodies and went mad. Humans chosen from infancy adapted fairly well in most cases, but they couldn’t match the speed and processing power of an AI. And there were other issues. The McCaffrey Project had to be cancelled.”

He smiled. “There are other possibilities in this ship,” he said. “You do know that every location in hyperspace corresponds to a location in normal space?”

Jennifer sorted. “It’s only the first principle of interstellar navigation,” she said, dryly. “I may have come across it somewhere.”

“But it isn’t easy to accurately predict an emergence point,” Jan reminded her. “Maybe a small gunboat or destroyer can open a gateway in a planet’s atmosphere and fly out, but a cruiser couldn’t hope to do it without running afoul of planetary gravitational fluxes. This ship can…and it can do something I would have said was impossible before I saw the drive nodes. It can literally open a gateway from hyperspace into normal space – anywhere. We could open a link from hyperspace to the undercity.”

“Seriously?” Jennifer said, astonished. A planet might not have projected an intense gravity field into hyperspace, at least not as intense and dangerous as a star, but it still had an effect on hyperspace. No one in their right mind would try to fly through an area of hyperspace that corresponded to the location of a planet. Very few people had tried it and survived. “That would mean…”

She broke down into helpless laughter. “The System built all that firepower around Centre, enough to stand off an attack by half the System Navy…and we could just bypass it, easily!”

“Correct,” Jan agreed. “I doubt that they could do anything to stop us.”

“It can’t be that easy,” Jennifer pointed out. “They built the damn ship. They must know what it can do.”

“Perhaps,” Jan agreed. “On the other hand, they may not have thought through all the implications yet. And they may feel that the defences around Centre are sufficient to keep anyone from reaching the hyperspace nexus without being intercepted. It’s the most heavily guarded region of hyperspace in the galaxy.”

That was true, Jennifer knew. Unlike Ashfall, Centre resided in a fairly calm region of space. There was little distorting hyperspace apart from the system primary and the two gas giants, further out along the system plane. An attacking force could arrive from almost any direction and, if they were lucky, come streaming out of hyperspace without being intercepted, or the defenders being warned of their arrival. The System ran heavy patrols around the planet – in both normal space and hyperspace – and had most of the approaches heavily mined. Normal traffic to and from the system was kept in specific shipping lanes.

And yet, with the Blindside, it should be possible to slip through. If something happened to divert the defenders…they might not even be sighted as they slipped towards the nexus of gravitational force that marked Centre’s location. Indeed, once they were within the gravitational zone, they would be undetectable. The System would never even suspect their presence until it was far too late. Hell, they wouldn't even tell the commander of the defence force that Blindside existed, let alone what she could do.

“That should be fun,” Jennifer said. She pushed the thought aside, took one last look at the girl, and then fixed her gaze on Jan. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Jan hesitated. “I still need to run further tests,” he said, evasively. “I am not sure…”

“I need to know,” Jennifer said, flatly. Something was nagging at her, an intuition that somehow refused to crystallise in her mind. Her implanted weapons, sensing her mood, started to activate, preparing for a fight. “What don’t you want to tell me?”

“I ran a test on the girl,” Jan said. “It’s astonishing just how thoroughly her body has been riddled with technology. I’ve seen System Troopers, enhanced to give them extra strength and combat skills, with less augmentation. One of the many augmentations she has is a medical monitor that is ahead of anything I’ve seen, back when I was working for the System. It is far more capable than the one they gave you.”

Jennifer tapped her foot, impatiently. “I ran a DNA test on her,” Jan admitted. “I wanted to know what modifications they’d programmed into her genome, believing that she might have been specially engineered for her purpose. There’s no reason they’d have to find a suitably paralysed victim when they could simply clone a suitable child without the ability to move. And when I ran the test, it came back with a positive identification match.”

“Go on,” Jennifer said, slowly. A cold chill was running down the back of her neck. “Who is she?”

“She’s your daughter,” Jan said, flatly. Jennifer felt…stunned. She’d never felt unable to act before, at least not after she’d broken the mental conditioning. “They used your ova and someone’s sperm to create her, probably in a birthing vat. Once she was decanted, they probably inserted her directly into a biological cage and formed the organic links into what would eventually become her supporting flesh. I suspect that some of it was actually sequenced from her brain cells and…”

He trailed off as Jennifer stared at him. “Why…?” She felt as if someone had punched her in the belly. Jennifer had somehow never considered children, even before Ghost had told her that her eggs had been stripped and it was no longer possible to become pregnant. Workers rarely chose to go through pregnancy. It was far easier to use an artificial womb. “Who would do such a thing?”

“The System,” Jan said, quietly. “They’d have no compunction about using a small girl as part of an experiment. And we can’t take her out without killing her…”

Jennifer barely heard him. Memories were pushing at the back of her mind…

…Wild was speaking to her, in the aftermath of a battle, telling her that the System’s masters were an unknown. They ruled and they were never found, yet if they were found…the possibilities were endless, for those who took their place…

“We have to find them,” Jennifer snarled. “The System’s masters. We’re going to kill them all.”

 

this just keeps getting better and better

 

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

The odd thing about a static bomb, Wild reflected as the Hunter drew closer to Blindside Base, was that it caused relatively little damage in normal space. The base’s protective fields had contained the blast within a twenty-metre radius and the only people harmed had been the security team trying to crack their way into the spacer. The blast had, however, disrupted the local quantum field, preventing any starship within the static radius – several light hours – from entering hyperspace. The System had developed the static bombs to prevent rebel ships from escaping into hyperspace, knowing that the weapons were a two-edged sword, trapping friendly ships as well as enemy vessels. The Blindside’s remarkable drive had changed that equation.

Static bombs also interfered with local teleportation, at least the high-energy teleportation required to transmit living beings. The quantum uncertainty effect that prevented teleporters from duplicating human beings would be strengthened by the static bomb’s lingering effects, ensuring that using a teleporter became a quick and easy way to commit suicide. The Hunter was actually having to go within shuttle range and deploy a shuttle to ferry him over to the station. Wild had accepted it calmly, even though the Admiral had looked as if he were about to explode with rage. The rebels had carried out a strike that, when word leaked out, would only encourage the System’s enemies to keep fighting. It was hard to convince restive populations that the System’s success was inevitable when an entirely new class of starship had been stolen under the System’s very nose.

The call to the shuttlecraft came two minutes after the Hunter had come to a stop, relative to the base. Wild followed his escort’s stiff behind down into the shuttlebay, where he met his four bodyguards and Admiral Pasha. The Admiral looked as if he was looking forward to busting the base’s commander all the way back down to Crewman, Fourth Class. Wild had a slightly more favourable view of the whole affair. After all, Jennifer’s assault team had used the proper codes to identify themselves as Inspectors and Enforcers. The System couldn’t start encouraging people to shoot all Inspectors on sight. They’d just have to start developing newer security precautions.

“Commodore Adamson is expecting us,” Admiral Pasha said, tightly. The shuttlecraft was cramped, only designed for short tours to nearby destinations, ones just out of teleport range. Teleporting was just far more efficient – and easier to control. “His deputy has a good record, but I’m thinking that we should put in someone from outside the base.”

Wild shrugged as the shuttle lifted off the deck and eased its way out of the shuttlebay. It struck him, as they flew out into open space, that everyone in the system was on a hair-trigger. The live feed from the shuttle’s sensors revealed automated weapons platforms – and six cruisers, all armed to the teeth – tracking their approach. A single failure in the IFF node would result in the shuttle being vaporised long before it reached the base. After a rebel team had rammed a freighter, packed to the gunnels with antimatter, into a System Naval Base, no one took chances anymore. One failure and the System would need a new Enforcer and Admiral. The pilot was, of course, expendable.

“We’ll see what happens when we get there,” Wild said, firmly. If Commodore Adamson had been in any way negligent, he would be relieved and perhaps executed on the spot. If not...even the System wouldn't be inclined to execute him. There would have to be some punishment, like a posting to an isolated asteroid base in the middle of nowhere, but perhaps not the death penalty. “I have an investigative team on their way from Centre. They’ll help us find out what took place here.”

He concealed his amusement with the ease of long practice. A heavily-guarded system, protected by the very best technology the System could devise, hadn’t been enough to stop the rebels. The potential of the Blindside technology was staggering. If Blindside could operate within a static bomb’s field, or perhaps fly through energy storms like they weren't there, it would revolutionise everything. And if Jennifer took the ship to the Rogue AIs and showed them how it made even their stronghold in the Forbidden Sector vulnerable, they might take a more active hand in the war against the System.

The thought of Jennifer made him frown. He’d given her the details of the project – what had been made available to an Enforcer of his rank – and some of the command codes she would need to force her way into the base. Somehow, she’d managed to upload newer codes and authorisations into the galactic net and use them to infiltrate the base and steal the starship out from under the very nose of the base’s CO. In hindsight, Wild could see that the only way anyone could do that would be direct physical access to the galactic net, which meant that one of the thousands of relay stations had been subverted. And that suggested that the rebels had help from the Rogue AIs. The System’s masters would be furious – and terrified. For all he knew, they might order all of the remaining rebel worlds destroyed, just in case they harboured Jennifer and her team.

Wild was not, by nature, a very reflective man, yet he recalled what had happened before Jennifer – Admiral Quintana – had had her mind wiped and reprogrammed by the System. They’d come very close to locating the key to destroying – or taking over – the System, something that terrified the System’s masters. A reversal in the endless war against the rebels was one thing, but a direct threat to their existence and power was another. Hell, their secrecy was a large part of their protection. If they believed that they were on the verge of being exposed, they’d do whatever it took to maintain their power. Wild mentally started adding up his precautions. They shouldn't be able to identify him as Jennifer’s ally, but if they brought in other Enforcers and started working separate teams, someone might put the pieces together.

He pushed the thought aside as the shuttle headed towards Blindside Base, a hatch opening in the centre of the station’s hull to reveal a docking bay. Wild smiled to himself as he felt the gravity shift slightly as the base’s gravity field caught hold of them, and then pasted an impassive mask over his thoughts. The base’s crew would be expecting to see a stern investigator, a man who would look into every corner and then pass judgement in the name of the System. He didn't intend to disappoint them. As Jennifer had discovered, the System’s main weakness was that it rarely encouraged independent thinking and questioning of superiors. It treated strict obedience to orders as a virtue, which was excellent as long as no one managed to pass for higher authority. Jennifer had shattered, in one blow, the System’s ability to command its personnel. Fixing the damage would take years.

The shuttle touched down and the hatch hissed open. Wild got to his feet and strode out of the hatch, followed by his bodyguards. Their very presence grated on him, if only because he was sure that at least one of them was reporting on his activities to the System’s internal security auditors. Being a System Enforcer, or another high-ranking person, granted one vast authority and even freedom, but no one was ever free of being watched. Besides, if Blindside Base had decided to mutiny, three bodyguards – and his own augmentations – wouldn't save them from being killed.

His eyes roamed the small greeting party until he saw Commodore Adamson. The man had a distinctly guilty look on his face. Wild guessed that he had been engaging in some minor transgressions that his rank had helped to hide, which would now come into the open when the Enforcers tore his life apart, looking for ties to the rebels. Wild had considered framing the Commodore, allowing him to take the fall for helping Jennifer break into the base, but all suspects would have to be brainscanned, proving his innocence. And then his watchers would start wondering why the Commodore had been framed.

As they should, Wild thought as he came to a halt in front of the Commodore. If the game was easy, anyone could play.

“Commodore Adamson?” He asked. It was a useless question, but it had to be asked. The formalities demanded it.

“Yes, sir,” Commodore Adamson said. He sounded like a dead man walking, which in a sense he was. The System would be unlikely to trust him with much responsibility after this little screw-up, even if he did everything perfectly. He’d still lost the most dangerous starship in the entire galaxy. “Welcome to Blindside Base.”

“Thank you,” Wild said, briskly. “I am Enforcer Wild. In line with my orders to investigate the security breach on this base, and the theft of the Blindside, I am hereby relieving you of command until your part in the whole affair is investigated and you are cleared of complicity. My associate” – he nodded to one of his bodyguards – “will hold you in your quarters until we can determine if you require a brainscan.”

He allowed his gaze to move to the next figure, a tall woman who was the base’s XO. Commander Caitlin reminded him of Admiral Quintana, as she’d been the first day they met; tall, proud, and determined to succeed. Wild had scanned her file during the flight to Blindside Base and had realised that she had been in line for a promotion that would have put her in command of a cruiser, if not an entire squadron. Now...maybe not. **** rolled downhill, even – perhaps especially - in the System, and being so close to a colossal disaster would have negative career repercussions for anyone, no matter how lucky or good they were.

“As we have yet to determine the precise nature of the security breach, let alone its extent, I cannot pass command to the next in line,” he said, coldly. It was proper procedure. The XO might have framed her CO in hopes of being promoted to fill his shoes. “I will therefore assume command of the base myself, at least until we have a preliminary result. You will serve as my guide to the base. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir,” Caitlin said. Her voice was very tight. “With respect, Enforcer, you are not...”

“I have the authority to assume command,” Wild reminded her. He kept his voice cold, even as he raised it to address the remainder of the welcoming committee. “Until we have completed our preliminary investigation, this base will be sealed off the galactic net. The remaining research team members will be confined to quarters. All crew personnel will be confined to quarters when not actually on duty. The mainframe will be locked. Access to the computer network must be cleared through me personally. Responsibility for maintaining the defence network around this system” – he couldn't keep a hint of a sneer out of his voice – “will be transferred to the Hunter.”

He allowed his cold eyes to sweep the compartment. There was no obvious signs of guilt, but Enforcers were trained to look for clues most people didn't realise they showed. Most of the welcoming committee, apart from the XO, seemed uneasily aware that they had guilty secrets, even if they didn't have anything to do with the infiltration and theft. If they were caught, it wouldn't help them to claim that they didn't have any connection to Jennifer’s assault. They’d still be punished. Wild would turn over every stone in the base to ferret out the truth.

“Good,” he said, after a long moment. “Commander Caitlin, if you will escort me to the command centre, we can begin.”

***​

An hour later, Wild had a fairly detailed impression of everything that had taken place from the moment Jennifer and her team had boarded the station to the moment they’d detonated the static bomb. Jennifer had attempted to upload some fairly powerful (and cutting-edge) chaos programs into the computer nexus, but luckily the backups hadn't been badly affected. Commodore Adamson – now a prisoner in his own quarters, probably for several days – had insisted on daily backups of the whole system. It had probably seemed like a paranoid act to his crew, but it might just have saved his career. Given enough time, the Blindside Project could be rebuilt.

“I'm afraid that they took twenty-seven people with them,” Caitlin explained. Wild scowled at the thought. The loss of the Scientists involved in the project was a major headache, one that would racket up the chain until it reached the System’s masters. Genius was one of the traits the System had problems programming into their children – and it tended to come with eccentricity and even madness. It helped the System to keep on the cutting edge of science – behind the Rogue AIs – and they’d accepted that as the price of creating genius-level intellects.

But it had its problems. As Scientists grew older, more involved in their thoughts and projects, they grew reluctant to share anything with their successors. The records the Scientists had left behind might not be enough to rebuild the project, at least not without doing the early work all over again. There would be no way to know until they tried, which could take years. The System’s masters, who wanted the new drive developed, tested and installed in the System Navy’s ships yesterday, would not be pleased.

“I suspected as much,” Wild said. Caitlin was alarmingly sharp. If she suspected that he wasn't conducting a real investigation – or that he was trying to cover his own tracks – she’d alert his superiors for sure. Part of the reason he’d locked the station out of the galactic net was to give him a chance to contain anyone who might discover the truth. “Did they go willingly or were they kidnapped?”

“Unknown,” Caitlin said. “They were stunned as soon as the team...ah, revealed themselves. I don’t think they bothered to ask before they took them.”

Wild’s wristcom buzzed. “Enforcer, this is Lieutenant Jasper, in the hanger,” a voice said. Lieutenant Jasper was part of his staff, a young man who would make Enforcer soon if he kept his nose clean. He was depressingly keen and eager, making Wild feel every one of his seventy years. “I’m afraid that we couldn't find any identifiable remains from the enemy soldiers. Their bodies clearly self-destructed, destroying whatever was left after the base’s security team blew their way into the hanger.”

“Understood,” Wild said. It hardly mattered. They had enough footage from the security systems to confirm that Jennifer had led the assault, which should be enough to alarm his superiors. They believed that Jennifer had recovered all of her memories – and control of her augmentations – which would have allowed her to walk right through the base’s defences. With a little bit of luck, they wouldn't look any further. “Pull your team out and seal the compartment.”

He clicked the wristcom off and looked up at Caitlin. “The codes you were given by the rebel team were genuine,” he said. “We do not know how they obtained them, but you had no reason to believe that they were rebels until they drew their weapons and opened fire. I am satisfied that the leak did not originate on your base.”

His eyes remained fixed on hers. “However, it is my judgement that Commodore Adamson’s reaction to the rebels was...inefficient,” he continued. “In particular, he failed to get a security team into the hanger before the rebels boarded the Blindside and stole her. He was clearly unaware of the ship’s unique properties and failed to either secure control of the starship or order one of the guardian cruisers into hyperspace to intercept the rebels. Do you have any comment you would like to make at this time?”

Caitlin wasn’t fool enough to attempt to answer.

“Good,” Wild said, after a moment. “You are now in command of Blindside Base. The System will have to determine if the Blindside Project can be continued – and, if so, if it will continue here or be moved to a different location. That decision should be made shortly. You have until then to develop a new security plan that should prevent any further rebel intrusions. The System will make its decision about your personal future then.”

His eyes narrowed. “Commodore Adamson will be transferred to the Hunter and eventually sent back to face a Board of Inquiry,” he continued. “While I believe that he was not indirectly responsible for the security failure, I feel that he cannot be left in command of this base. Admiral Pasha concurs with my judgement. The System will decide his future once we have tracked down the security leak and plugged it.

Caitlin nodded, slowly. “Yes, sir,” she said. It was impossible to tell if she approved or not. Command of Blindside Base, under other circumstances, would have looked good on her file, but at the moment it was a poisoned chalice. Her career might have become permanently stalled after Jennifer’s visit to Blindside Base. “You’ll have my security plan by the end of the week.”

Wild nodded. “Good,” he said, standing up. He had to return to his ship and activate his private communicator, linking him to the System’s masters. A long time ago, he’d tried to trace the signals back to their source. Now...he had to wait until Jennifer made contact with him. His long-term plans required her support. “And one other thing, Commodore.”

He allowed his voice to tighten. “I advise you to ensure that every last member of your crew is vetted,” he said. “You cannot afford another security leak.”

Wild was still smiling when he returned to the shuttlecraft, where Commodore Adamson was waiting for him. He wasn't – exactly – under arrest, but being taken into an Enforcer’s personal custody was never a good sign. Wild nodded to him and took his seat, ignoring the base’s former commander. If sacrificing Adamson – even just his career – was necessary, he’d do it.

After everything else he’d done for the System, and in pursuit of his own long-term plans, it was a very tiny price to pay.

 

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

The air of Mentor stank.

Jennifer wrinkled her nose as she followed Captain Vaster through the ruined city. It might have been any city – the System had wreaked hundreds of worlds in its conquest of most of the galaxy – but there were hundreds of subtle signs that indicated that it had been built by an alien race. The proportions were slightly off, the buildings matched no human aesthetic sense and there was a faint air of unreality surrounding the entire city. There were no signs of life either. Ghost’s files contained relatively little information on Mentor, but a quick survey of the planet had suggested that the System had launched several asteroids at the world and watched it burn from high orbit. The race that had built the city was long gone.

Captain Vaster had suggested that they came to Mentor after they’d finished examining the Blindside, explaining that the rebels had a major underground base hidden on the dead world. Jennifer had been puzzled at first, until she realised that the System had quarantined off the entire star system, leaving it empty. They didn’t even have a cruiser on guard over the planet, which had puzzled Jennifer until she’d realised that there was little here for the System to discover. The planet’s former inhabitants had barely been on the verge of rocket-propelled flight when the System had stumbled across them. And they’d never had a chance to discover drive fields, let alone hyperdrive.

She frowned as she picked her way through the rubble. The System’s masters wouldn’t lose sleep over a little prank like genocide, but it was atypical of them to exterminate an entire race if they could have enslaved it instead. If they’d wanted the planet without its former inhabitants, surely they could have dropped a tailored bioweapon and exterminated the natives, or even hit the planet with radiation bombs. Slaughtering the Slugs had made perfect sense, from the System’s point of view, but why destroy a race that posed no threat and could be forced into servitude instead? She looked up at one of the buildings, an eerie pyramid structure topped with a statue of a giant octopus-like creature, and shook her head. There was no threat to the System on this planet, or at least there hadn't been any threat before they’d exterminated the rebels and the natives had moved it.

Or had the rebels been on Mentor before the System arrived? The Final Wave of colony ships could have found Mentor, perhaps even opened up trade with the natives. And if the rebels had been to the planet before the System, they could have started to try to build up the local tech base, hoping to turn the planet into a fortress, preventing the System from simply taking it whenever it finally arrived. The System would have been horrified if the rebels had been sharing human technology with aliens – the System encouraged xenophobia, for reasons Jennifer didn't understand – and would have acted quickly to destroy the threat. Running into a peer power – an alien empire with thousands of star systems, starships and a comparable technological base – was the System’s worst nightmare. With two-thirds of the galaxy under its control, it seemed increasingly unlikely that any such power existed. That thought hadn't stopped the System from crushing any alien race it discovered.

“Captain,” she said, as they passed between two blocky buildings, clearly designed for non-human forms. The doors were too high and thin; oddly, they seemed to widen around the head, as if the aliens had had oversized brains. Or perhaps that was just their sense of aesthetics. “How long until we reach the base?”

Captain Vaster glanced back at her briefly. “Not long,” he said. He had been oddly distracted ever since they’d stolen the Blindside and escaped Blindside Base. Jennifer had wondered if he’d wanted to come along on the mission, but she’d decided against it, reasoning that his DNA print would be on every security sensor in the entire System. He’d been sending messages to the other rebel cells, using a code that Ghost couldn't crack. The AI had noted that they appeared to be code phases that meant something to those in the know, rather than actual encrypted messages. They’d led him to insist that they came to Mentor to meet with the rebel council. “The base is near; we just want them to take a good look at us before we barge into the base itself, or they’ll shoot us before we can identify ourselves.”

Jennifer scowled. The thought wasn't a bad one, but being so far from Ghost left her feeling vaguely alone in her own head. There were humans who reacted badly to direct neural links to AIs – she had a suspicion that she’d been bred to accept a far stronger link than previous human generations – and they wouldn’t have understood. Ghost had started out as her mental twin, existing within a computer matrix, but it had grown into a personality in its own right. In the long run, if the System didn't deploy its new nanotech against its own people, it might end up with hundreds of rogue AIs. They didn't understand the bonding process as well as they thought they did.

But in order to avoid panicking the rebels in the planet, they’d left the Brilliant orbiting the local gas giant, waiting for orders. The Blindside lurked in hyperspace, where Jan and Virgil were studying the ship, ensuring that it could enter Centre’s region of hyperspace without being detected. There was no reason to expect the System Navy to enter the star system. But Jennifer had left strict orders that if they did encounter enemy ships, they were to avoid engagement and remain near Mentor. The System paid little attention to depopulated planets, something that puzzled Jennifer. They hadn't even scattered automated sensor platforms around the star system, even though it made a perfect hiding place for a rebel base.

“Over there,” Captain Vaster pointed. Jennifer followed his gaze and saw another ruined building, shaped roughly like a spire pointing up towards the sky. It reminded her, oddly, of a scale model of one of the megacities on Centre, sending a chill running down her spine. This world hadn’t become as badly overpopulated as Centre, but perhaps it would have reached the same population density in the next few centuries, if the System hadn't destroyed it. “The base is under that building. Keep your hands in the open and don’t draw a weapon.”

The interior of the building smelled better than the exterior, much to Jennifer’s private amusement. A System investigation team would detect the difference and start tearing their way through the building, just to find out what it hid. Her augmented eyes adapted quickly to the semi-darkness, revealing long stone corridors and strange statures of alien life forms. The builders of the city had indeed been humanoid, she realised, and they had had oversized heads. That was also atypical among humanoid life forms. They tended to be proportionally comparable to humanity, even if they were taller or thinner. The locals had had heads that were out of all proportion to their bodies. Jennifer stroked her chin thoughtfully as they passed another statue, one shaped like a giant octopus. It reminded her of the larger statue outside, but this one had an ominous air to it. She couldn't read the writing under the statue, leaving her wondering if it was something the locals had worshipped, or a deadly warning. There was no way to know.

She almost tripped over a piece of rock on the floor and cursed, catching hold of one of the statues to steady herself. There was an odd feeling around the statue, as if it was waiting for something, yet she couldn’t identify the feeling. If the System had sent a research team, perhaps she would have had more data, but the System wasn't particularly interested in alien cultures. The locals hadn't had any technology the System could reverse-engineer and integrate into its own technological base; they’d just had a culture that would be lost forever, once the last traces of their civilisation had vanished. In the future – if there was a future – no one would know that they’d ever existed.

The thought saddened her, even as Captain Vaster pressed his hand against a single stone block, opening a hidden door. Bright light streamed out, banishing the semi-darkness, as he waved her forward, leading the way into the rebel base. Jennifer’s implants reported that the rebels were operating under strict concealment protocols, hiding all traces of their emissions deep under the planet’s surface. It was wise of them. The System Navy might decide to run a reconnaissance flight through the System and if they’d picked up power sources and emissions where none should be, they would have moved to investigate. No matter how deep the rebel base was, perhaps located under the crust, they couldn't have survived if the System blew the planet into asteroids.

“Come on,” Captain Vaster muttered. A second door opened down the corridor, revealing a single elevator. He led the way into it and the doors hissed closed, transporting them down below the surface. Jennifer frowned at him and he shrugged. “Very primitive technology, but it leaves fewer traces for the System to detect. Most of the base’s systems are shielded; there’s no power transmission fields here or communications networks that might be detected. Everything is stealthed to the max.”

The elevator came to a halt and the doors opened, revealing four mean wearing heavy powered combat armour. They were carrying plasma cannons, pointed right at Jennifer’s face. She froze, feeling her augmentations suddenly kicking up to combat readiness, knowing that a single shot from one of those cannons would kill her. Her enhanced speed and strength wouldn't allow her to dodge in time; their armour would resist any of her implanted weapons. She kicked herself mentally. They’d walked right into a trap. The System had been waiting for them.

“Keep your hands in the air and turn around,” the lead armoured figure said. Jennifer obeyed, seeing no other alternative. As long as she was alive, there was hope. She offered no resistance as her hands were pulled behind her back and secured with a metal strip that dug into her flesh. One of the figures ran a scanner over her body, removing all of her weapons and her wristcom. Her link to Ghost was blocked by the base’s stealth shielding. “Where do you want her, sir?”

Jennifer realised, in a moment of shock, that she’d been wrong. The base hadn't been captured by the System. Captain Vaster had betrayed her! Her mind raced, considering the possibilities. Could she break free and kill him before she was gunned down? And why had he betrayed her? Had the System reprogrammed him before they’d dumped him on Rupert’s World? But why would they bother if they thought that he’d be out of their hair forever? Her thoughts kept running in circles, trying to find a way out. What would happen to her?

“I’m sorry,” Captain Vaster said. “I know who you are. And we will try you for your crimes.”

Jennifer was still reeling as the armoured men led her away and pushed her into a small prison cell. It was heavily shielded – a query from her implants revealed no local processors, although that shouldn't have been a surprise – and secured by heavy force fields. The cell was actually more humane than the holding cells the System used, although she doubted that the rebels took many prisoners. She ran a quick check on her augmentations and realised that she was trapped. The suppresser fields would prevent her from escaping even if she managed to free her hands.

And he knew who she had been. The thought mocked her, in her empty head. She missed Ghost’s comforting presence, even as the Dark Lady laughed at her. Jennifer teetered on the edge of madness for a long chilling moment. She considered herself a different person to the Dark Lady – to Admiral Quintana – and yet they shared the same body. The rebels would try her for crimes she hadn’t committed, or didn't remember committing, depending on one’s point of view. And she’d walked right into a trap!

Ghost will come for me, she thought, grimly. And yet, it would be hours – perhaps days – before the AI realised that something was badly wrong. Jennifer had ordered it to remain away from the planet, after all. And what will they do with the Blindside?

She was still mulling over the question when the door slammed open and two armoured figures entered, escorting an unarmoured man with a dark expression. Jennifer offered no resistance as he fixed a pair of heavy chains around her ankles, making it hard to walk. They took her arms and led her down a long corridor, lined with hundreds of rebels. The sheer hatred they directed at her was enough to make a stronger person flinch. Jennifer refused to look at any of them, concentrating on walking. Oddly, the chains made it easier. Any attempt to walk without care almost sent her toppling over.

The makeshift courtroom had clearly started life as a conference room. One heavy chair was marked for Jennifer – her escort strapped her down into it, to the point where she could barely move – and five other chairs, behind a table, were for her judges. Captain Vaster sat at one of them, refusing to look at her; she didn't recognise the other three humans. The fifth judge wasn’t human, a fish-like alien from a watery world the System had overrun, years ago. She concentrated, trying to remain calm. The files she’d seen on the rebel leadership hadn’t included them, leaving her to wonder if the System had killed all of their superiors. Or perhaps the System had never identified this particular rebel cell. The rebels were fanatical about operational security, with very good reason. The System would kill them if they were discovered.

She looked up as the rebel leader – a short woman with short dark hair – started to speak. “Admiral Quintana, Dark Lady, you served the System,” she said. “During your time in service, you slaughtered over fifty billion humans and millions of aliens, committing genocide on no less than six occasions. You have destroyed the lives of uncountable numbers of people, destroyed entire worlds and even star systems. You expanded the System’s control until it was able to crush the rebellion, leaving only scattered remnants behind. Is there any reason why we should not execute you for your crimes?”

The audience cheered loudly at her final words. Jennifer suspected that the Dark Lady would have ignored the sheer physic hatred directed at her, but Jennifer flinched from it. Everyone in the chamber wanted her dead; perhaps they wanted to make her suffer first, before they killed her. Memories flickered across her mind – worlds dying at her command – and she shivered. The Dark Lady had committed hundreds of crimes in the name of the System. And yet the System had turned on her, wiping her mind and stealing her future children.

The thought of her daughter, a mindless part of the Blindside’s biological computer network, gave her strength. She couldn't fulfil her vow to destroy the System if the rebels killed her.

“I am not Admiral Quintana,” she said. She got no further as the mob howled its anger and disbelief at her, almost breaking her resolve. The judges had to gravel the table hard to get the noise to abate. “The System wiped my mind and a new personality has taken root. I am not her.”

She allowed her voice to grow stronger. “I fled the System,” she said. “I captured the Brilliant and used it to free Captain Vaster and some of his people from Rupert’s World. I led the team that broke into Blindside Base and captured a revolutionary starship from the System, one that may allow us to break the System once and for all. If I worked for the System, would I have done any of that?”

The judges conferred briefly. Even Jennifer’s enhanced hearing could only pick up a couple of words. “You led the System to Ashfall,” one of the other judges said. “An entire alien race has been exterminated, thanks to you.”

“I suggested going to Ashfall,” Captain Vaster said, quietly.

“You have the mind and soul of one of our greatest enemies,” the rebel leader said, coldly. She was looking right at Jennifer, her eyes boring into her soul. “You are a monster the System created to torment us, to secure its control over the entire galaxy. And you have served it well.”

She pointed a finger at the fish-like alien. “How many of the Fisherfolk are still alive, after you came to their world? There are barely a few hundred left, not enough to serve as a breeding population. Their world died at your hand and their people are dying now. Soon they will be gone.”

Jennifer listened silently as the judges outlined the charges, each one bringing its own flash of memory. The Dark Lady had been responsible for more crimes than she’d realised – and yet, the System had created her, right from the moment she’d been decanted from the artificial womb. They’d built her, enhanced her and turned her into their ideal fleet commander.

“I do not recall what the Dark Lady did,” she said, when the long list of charges had finally come to an end. “I do know that I am not her. I may share a body, but I do not share a mind. Even the System recognises that a clone isn’t the same as the original. If you judge me because of her, you will merely be committing a great injustice – just like the System. How can you claim to oppose the System when you act in the same way?”

The audience didn't like that. They yelled their outrage, a handful throwing whatever came to hand at her. Jennifer ignored them, focusing on the judges. It all depended on them now.

 

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

Captain Vaster looked at his fellow judges, once they had retired to the antechamber to discuss the trial. It honestly hadn't occurred to him that the System had wiped the mind of one of its most loyal servants. When he’d made the connection between Jennifer and Admiral Quintana, he’d assumed that the Admiral was working undercover to ferret out the remaining rebel bases. Instead...

“We have a problem,” Gymea said. She’d been a rebel for longer than Captain Vaster had been alive, a woman who’d seen her husband and family killed by the System and gone to war against it. She’d been fighting for nearly a hundred years now, using illicit rejuvenation therapies to remain young and fairly healthy. “If she isn't who she used to be, can we execute her for her past self’s crimes?”

“Of course we can,” Gordon snapped. He was younger than Captain Vaster, a former street thug who’d become a rebel after the System invaded his homeworld. He was popular among the younger rebels for his dreams of bloody revenge, but his strikes against the System hadn't been any more successful than anyone else’s strikes. The System had billions of troopers and thousands of starships. It would win any war of attrition. “She’s guilty. Kill her.”

“The fact remains,” Fishy said, in his bubbling alien voice, “that she isn't the same person. To kill her would be to carry out a grave injustice.”

“But we don't know if she is the same person or not,” Gordon said. He glared at Fishy, who seemed unperturbed by his expression. His homeworld had been destroyed by the System, leaving the remainder condemned to struggle for survival. “If she is, and we let her go, the System will have the propaganda gift of a lifetime. We will become fools.”

“It is quite possible for a wiped or reprogrammed brain to develop a different personality,” Gymea said. “If so...is she still the same person or not? I think that that is the real question. If she is the Dark Lady, killing her is the best choice; if she isn't, we need her help to wage war on the System.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I believe that there is only one way we can proceed,” she said. “I propose that we put her in the Chamber of Horrors.”

There was general agreement. “Good idea,” Gordon said, at once. “That will show us exactly what we’re dealing with.”

Captain Vaster nodded. A long time ago, Mentor had been inhabited by an alien race that, unlike humanity, had developed powerful telepathic abilities. Their society had been uniquely harmonious, if only because their minds had been open books to each other. The System sought the same harmony, but where the aliens had done it naturally the System attempted to do it by stamping out every original thought in the universe and exterminating even the concept of freedom and individuality. By the time the System had stumbled across Mentor, the telepaths had been on the verge of heading out into space themselves.

They’d seen the minds of the System’s exploration vessel when it arrived and realised, to their horror, what was lurking out among the stars. Their telepathy had attacked the first System warship that arrived to conquer their world. They’d taken control of the crew, but they hadn’t known about the AI. The System had deduced the range of their telepathic powers and launched asteroids at Mentor from outside their effective range. And an entire world had died.

But even telepaths had problems with renegades, people who became criminals, their minds somehow sealed off from the harmony. And they’d built a unique method to punish those criminals, the Chamber of Horrors. Somehow – no one was quite sure how – the Chamber stripped away all the mind’s little evasions and confronted the criminals with the truth of their existence. Some recovered their sanity; others were driven mad – and then killed – by the sheer force of realising what they’d done. The rebels had discovered the Chamber when they’d first landed on Mentor and realised that it would work for humans as well. It had helped to punish System spies in the past.

“Good idea,” Captain Vaster said. No one would argue with the Chamber of Horrors. “We can go make our judgement now, before the crowd loses control and tries to lynch her.”

***​

The Chamber of Horrors didn't look very impressive from the outside, Jennifer decided, as her guards slowly unlocked her chains and freed her hands. It was a black sphere, hanging in the air with no apparent means of support, so dark that it seemed to soak up all the light in the room. There was something about it that made the eye just skitter over it, as if it wasn't quite there. The guards seemed unwilling to look at it directly, although they were definitely keeping a wary eye on Jennifer herself. No one had managed to shut down her augmentations.

“If you come out alive, we will know that you are not her,” Captain Vaster said. Jennifer scowled at him, but she accepted his point. Besides, if she refused to go into the Chamber, the crowd would lynch her. There was no point in arguing. “And if you do, I will apologise to your face.”

Jennifer snorted. Captain Vaster didn't realise it, at least not yet, but he had a far worse problem on his hands. If Jennifer died, Ghost would come looking for revenge. A bonded AI would go mad without regular contact with its human mental partner. The rebels and their base would be obliterated from orbit. Perhaps Jan would be able to get the Blindside away from Brilliant before the AI passed the point of no return. She shook her head slowly. After everything she’d done, dying at the hands of the rebels would be the ultimate irony. Wild would laugh his head off. She wondered, briefly, what would happen to him, and then dismissed the thought. No one had been able to tell her any specifics about what she would see inside the Chamber, but she suspected that it wouldn't be good.

The two guards pushed a small stepladder up against the sphere and stepped back. “Walk up the steps and into the sphere,” Captain Vaster ordered. “Good luck.”

Jennifer shrugged and placed one foot on the stepladder. The black sphere seemed to loom larger in front of her as she reached the second step, then the third...and then the sphere seemed to reach out to her and she plunged into darkness. She was floating within a darkness so dark that it was almost tangible. It made her thing of spacewalking, except there were no stars or planets anywhere near her. She couldn't see anything, apart from absolute darkness. She wasn't even aware of her own body.

You’re inside the sphere, she told herself. It wasn't convincing. Cold logic told her that she was still in the rebel base, but emotion suggested otherwise. She felt as if she was millions of light years from anything familiar, totally isolated from the universe. Her own thoughts were all the company she had. She tried to press her fingers against her body, but felt nothing. All of a sudden, she wondered if she was nothing more than a disembodied brain.

Captain Vaster hadn't told her how long it would take, but it already felt like hours since she’d entered the Chamber. It was harder to remember a time when she’d actually had a living body, warm, soft and breathing. She tried to remember what she looked like, yet that thought just slid out of her mind. Was she Jennifer, with long auburn hair, or Admiral Quintana, with short dark hair? The sphere was affecting her, she realised suddenly, yet even that thought seemed to fade away as she was reduced to nothing. It was impossible even to grow alarmed.

“Pathetic,” a voice said. Jennifer saw Admiral Quintana standing there, in the darkness. She wore the black uniform of the System Navy, with a golden band around her arm. The mark of an Admiral, one trusted to serve the System. It had been her once. “Look at you. The girl who cannot make up her mind.”

The Admiral moved closer, as if she could reach out and throttle Jennifer. “The girl who slept through life,” she said. “The girl who lucked her way into stealing a cruiser and bonding with an AI. The girl who allowed herself to be pushed around by fragments of memory, dancing to a tune she can’t even hear. Pathetic.”

Her fingers pressed up against Jennifer’s body, between her breasts. It was an oddly erotic feeling. “You’re not even real,” she added. “You’re just a combination of System reprogramming and half-remembered memories. Why – you don’t even know why you’re fighting the System. You have no passion, no rage, not even a desire for revenge. How can you compare to Jan, who saw his work being perverted, or Vaster, who saw his homeworld die, or Wild, who dreams of supreme power? What reason do you have to fight?”

Jennifer had no answer, and then she knew. “The System is evil,” she said, her words echoing oddly in the Chamber. “It has destroyed billions of lives, turned the human race into a servile population and...”

“But what did it do to you?” Admiral Quintana asked. She hadn’t removed her hand, even as her voice hardened. “You have to admire the System’s...system. Those who serve well, without questioning the System, are treated well. The System cares for its population. Look inside yourself. You know that to be true. The workers have more than enough to eat, lives of comfort and even ways they can rebel against the System without threatening its integrity. How many other governments can say the same? Who are you to seek to destroy it?”

Her eyes came closer, until they were close enough to kiss. “You don't know,” she said, softly. “You rebel and you don’t even know why! You’re pitiful; nothing more than a personality formed from fragments of my memories. What right do you have to live?”

Jennifer gathered herself. “How many people did you kill?” She demanded. “How many alien races did you destroy?”

“Billions died at my hands because they resisted the System,” Admiral Quintana said. “But what right did they have to live? They fought to prevent the System from bringing its happiness to their populations. None of the worlds I destroyed took care of its own population. They starved, in the name of their precious freedom. They suffered, in the name of their independence. Their governments allowed it to take place because they didn't want to give up their power to the System. Their selfishness condemned their populations to death.

“And as for the aliens,” she added, “how long would it have been before they became a threat to humanity? Aliens have always waged war on us. We merely decided to get our retaliation in first.”

“You destroyed them,” Jennifer snapped.

“We removed the threat,” Admiral Quintana countered. Her voice became droll, dispassionate. “This world of telepaths will never pose a threat to humanity. Fish-face out there will never pose a threat to humanity.”

She stepped back, as if the conversation bored her. Jennifer still felt a tingle where her hand had pressed against Jennifer’s chest. “Now tell me,” she said, “why you wish to wage war against the System? You had a good life under it, o shadow of me. Why do you wish to destroy it?”

Jennifer gathered herself, breathing hard. “The System is evil,” she said. “You know that to be true, for it created you. Look at your own memories! What happened to all those children who were part of your training program? What happened to those who failed? You know the answer as well as I do – they were taken away and eliminated, their bodies broken down and used for raw material to build the next generation of children. Children aren't lab animals!”

“The System needed to produce the next generation of defenders,” Admiral Quintana said, dispassionately. “You already know that, of course. Not everyone can be plucked out of the worker population and trained to serve the System. For every one like Wild, there is a dozen who cannot be retrained and has to be terminated for the good of the population.”

“Killed,” Jennifer said, coldly. “Murdered.”

“Terminated,” Admiral Quintana said. “You know that the human race can be divided into sheep, wolves and sheepdogs. We can retrain some of the wolves to become sheepdogs, but by the time we discover them they are often too set in their ways and we need to terminate them. How many horrors existed in the days before the System? How many people suffered because their governments refused to recognise that wolves had to be removed from the flock before they killed all the sheep?

“And as for those who trained with me – and failed – they failed,” she added. “They didn't come up to scratch...”

“Children are not things you can just produce...”

“Of course they are,” Admiral Quintana said, sardonically. “How many women chose their mates based on good looks, or money, or power? They believe, deep inside, that such qualities can ensure a better life and genetic heritage for their children. The System has merely systemized the whole process, ensuring a better life for their population. Where do you think the average person would prefer to live? In one of the megacities, or in the undercity? Where would they get a better quality of life?”

“And all they have to do is agree to serve the System,” Jennifer said, slowly. “They give up everything to the System.”

Admiral Quintana shrugged. “Are the rewards not worth it?”

Her voice hardened again. “But why should you make such a decision?” She asked. “You’re nothing more than fragments...”

“I can make such a decision because I can make it,” Jennifer said. Rising anger overrode her fear. “You take away everything in exchange for safety. The System’s population isn't allowed to make any free choices. The few choices they think they are allowed to make are ones determined by the System. They give up everything and then trust the System to take care of them. And what happens if the System decides that they’re no longer worth keeping and supporting? They have no way to register a protest, do they?”

Her anger pushed her forward. “Who really controls the System? Who makes those choices for the human race? And why? What do they get out of it? If the System is so benevolent, why does it need commanders like you – who will commit genocide for fun – and enforcers like Wild, a sociopath who became your lover. In the end, the System will remove even the illusion of freedom of thought, turning the entire human race into an insect colony. How can you say that that is anything other than evil?”

“You reasoned it out,” Admiral Quintana said. “You do not feel. You worked out what you thought was the right thing to do and you did it. And yet, you have no passion, because you are a shadow of me. What truly motivates you? You don’t know.”

“I know that I am not you,” Jennifer said. She leaned forward. “Did you know what they did to our daughter? Were you there when they decanted her from the clone tank and rammed so many implants and augmentations into her head that they can barely be separated from her brain? Did you watch when they programmed her and installed her at the heart of a starship, an organic computer to serve the System? She’s your flesh and blood! Doesn't that bother you, even slightly?”

Admiral Quintana smiled. “She serves the System,” she said, coldly. “Sacrifices must be made. There are worse threats out in the universe than you know. The Rogue AIs, alien races so far above us that we’re little more than ants running under their feet – all threats the System must meet and destroy for the good of the human race. One girl being used as an organic computer is a small price to pay.”

Jennifer stepped forward, suddenly aware of her own body. “I am not you,” she said, firmly. She took another step, and then another. “Perhaps you’re right; perhaps I do not feel anything. But I know that I am not you. You’re a monster.”

“A monster who is you,” Admiral Quintana said. But her voice was weakening and she stepped backwards herself, retreating from Jennifer. “We’re the same person.”

“No,” Jennifer said. They were suddenly very close together. She saw the Admiral’s eyes fill with shock, and fear. “Whatever I am, I’m nothing like you.”

The world went white, blinding light pouring in around them, driving away the darkness. Admiral Quintana’s form flickered and vanished, leaving Jennifer alone in the light. For a moment, she saw a tall figure slotted against the blinding light, and then it was gone and she was suddenly outside the sphere, drifting down towards the ground. There were voices all around her, hands reaching for her...

***​

Captain Vaster saw Jennifer fall out of the sphere, her face twisted into a smile that seemed oddly fitting for her face. She was alive. And if she was alive, that meant that she wasn't the Dark Lady. The Dark Lady’s personality was long gone. He’d been wrong; wrong to put her on trial – and to risk exposing her to the Chamber of Horrors. He could have destroyed their last best hope for defeating the System.

He bent over her as she landed on the floor. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, as she closed her eyes. Like all of the other survivors, she would need to sleep before she could rejoin the world. When she awoke, they could start making plans to take the war to the System. “I’ll make it up to you, somehow.”

 

im addicted
i need bigger fixes....lol

 

Very good, I await the next chapter!!!

 

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

Jennifer opened her eyes.

She was lying in a soft bed, staring up at a blue ceiling. For a moment, she thought it was the sky, before realising that she was still in the rebel base. Ali sat in a chair next to the bed, looking down at her with anxious eyes. Her presence confused Jennifer for a few seconds, before she felt the comforting presence of Ghost in her mind. The rest of her memories flashed in front of her eyes, leaving her confused and yet peaceful. Had she really encountered the spirit of her former self? Or had it all been a dream?

Ali smiled as Jennifer sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She felt relaxed, almost as if her lingering doubts were gone. The compartment at the back of her mind, the locked compartment that had housed all of her past memories, seemed to have faded away. The memories that the System had blocked – that she’d remembered after she’d rescued Ali from the Peacekeepers and started her flight from Centre – were still there, yet they felt as if they belonged to someone else. There was none of the confusing and contradictory emotions she’d felt when she thought of Wild. His lover and collaborator had been a very different person. And that person was now gone. Jennifer told herself that she wouldn’t miss her.

“Captain Vaster contacted us after you collapsed,” Ali said, as Jennifer pulled herself to her feet. Her legs felt a little unstable, but at least she could stand upright. Ali put out a hand to steady her; Jennifer waved it off, impatiently. She needed to recover as quickly as possible. A hint of dizziness washed across her mind, and faded away. Jennifer felt as sharp as she’d ever been. “He confessed to doubting you and putting you on trial.”

The memories flickered through Jennifer’s mind, but everything that had happened since she’d entered the sphere, the Chamber of Horrors, had an eerie dreamlike quality. Had any of it been real, or had it merely been a reflection of her own thoughts and fears? There was no way to know. The System could create VR simulations so powerful that humans couldn't tell the difference between VR and actual reality; there was no reason to assume that the aliens who had built the Chamber of Horrors couldn't do the same. And if the System could use VR as an interrogation tool – rather than a chance to play in a simulated world – the aliens could do the same. If they really had been a race of telepaths, they’d be able to make an even more convincing illusion.

“Ghost was pissed,” Ali said, with a giggle. “He insisted on coming into orbit and pointing every weapon he has down at the surface. Alvin and his new team have been armouring up and practicing rescue missions in the holographic simulators. Jan has even been whipping up some new nanotech to help recover you from their clutches. And I came down here to take care of you.”

“Thank you,” Jennifer said, sincerely. The Dark Lady would have accepted it as little more than her due. Jennifer liked to think that she was more civilised than her predecessor. “I’m up and about, so...where is the good Captain now?”

“He was waiting for you here before I kicked him out,” Ali said. She passed Jennifer a cup of water, unbidden. Jennifer sipped it gratefully. “He’s in the antechamber at the moment, waiting for you to recover. Do you want me to call him in?”

Jennifer shook her head. “I think we’ll go see him ourselves,” she said. Her legs felt a hell of a lot more stable now, and her mind was crisp and clear. “Come on.”

Captain Vaster rose to his feet as they stepped into the antechamber. He looked to have aged overnight, his features even greyer than they’d been when they first met. Ghost’s sickbay had been able to mend the scars he’d carried on his face – both from Rupert’s World and botched rejuvenation treatments – but the AI hadn't been able to do anything about the psychic scars. The rebel commander looked his age. His face still carried the burden of fighting a hopeless war against the System.

“Jennifer,” he said, slowly. He seemed to wilt as she approached. “I’m sorry.”

Jennifer nodded slowly. “I’m sorry too,” she said. “I should have told you from the start.”

Captain Vaster looked unconvinced. “But the Chamber could have killed you,” he said. “I would have sent you to your death, for nothing!”

“I don’t think that the others would have let me go if they hadn't trusted the Chamber,” Jennifer said. She patted his hand and motioned for him to sit down again. “Is there anywhere a person can get breakfast in this place?”

“It’s nearly evening,” Captain Vaster said, with a sudden grin. Mentor’s rotation was similar to Centre’s, although neither of them matched Galactic Standard perfectly. Jennifer remembered the AIs claiming that Centre wasn't the original homeworld of the human race and smiled to herself. Logically, Galactic Standard – with its 24-hour day – came from the long-lost original homeworld of humanity. She ran a query through her implants, which came back negative. No world included in her personal database had a 24-hour day. “I’ll get you something to eat and then you can tell me what you want to do next.”

“It’s really clever,” Jennifer assured him, with a grin of her own. She might have forgiven the Captain, but she wasn't going to let him off without yanking his chain a bit. “We’re going to invade Centre.”

***​

The Rebel Council looked as if they hadn't slept all night. Two of them were clearly still suspicious of Jennifer, as if they thought that she was a war criminal who had escaped justice through a technicality, while the other three were more apologetic. Jennifer resolved never to be alone with the suspicious two – in fact, to watch her back carefully while she was on the rebel base. They might not hesitate to try to stick a knife in her back.

And yet, could they really be blamed? The thought was troubling. Her predecessor had committed vast atrocities against their homeworlds, their peoples – and in one case their entire race, The Dark Lady symbolised the pure evil of the System to the rebels, allowing them to place a human face on their tormentors. Could they really be blamed for lashing out at Jennifer, who shared a face and a DNA code with the Dark Lady? How would she have reacted if faced with a similar situation?

“The System is colossal,” Jennifer said. She wasn't telling them anything they didn't already know, but she wanted to make her point as clearly as possible. “We could hit every soft target in the galaxy and we wouldn't come close to bringing the System down. Eventually, the System will have every soft target covered by cruisers equal or superior to the Brilliant. Their industrial base will allow them to be strong everywhere – and we will be strong nowhere. Hit and run tactics aren't going to win this war.”

She allowed her eyes to narrow as she tapped a key – an old-fashioned key – on the holoprojector. “The System has one weakness,” she said. “It is centralised to an incredible degree. Captain Vaster will recall that when we forged orders that purported to come from the highest levels of the System, we were able to walk into Blindside Base and steal a revolutionary starship from right under their noses. They will know what we did, of course, but they won’t be able to deal with it. If they gave their subordinates wider latitude in choosing which orders to obey, they’d be giving up some of their power. The System does not encourage initiative or even common sense.”

Jennifer stopped as a thought occurred to her. The System’s tactics had been dull and unimaginative until she’d come along, based on quantity over quality – had the System designed her for both loyalty and tactical flexibility? They’d have good reason to be nervous of giving fleet commanders independent authority – someone so high up in the System might start wondering why they couldn't be at the top, or turn warlord and carve out their own little empire – and yet, if they managed to program in loyalty without dulling creativity...she pushed the thought aside. She wasn't the Dark Lady. And even she had clearly turned against the System. There might be more rats in the System’s castle than they could even begin to imagine.

“Orders come from Centre – but where do those orders come from?” She asked. “Who rules the System?” Old memories flickered through her mind, reminding her of when the Dark Lady and Wild had set out to locate their masters, prior to removing them. And then something had gone horribly wrong. “If we can locate them, if we can identify them – we can kill them. And then the System will collapse into Chaos. In that time, we can free thousands of worlds, perhaps even take control of the System Navy. The human race would be finally free.

“But finding them isn't going to be easy,” she added. “Even the Rogue AIs weren't able to track them down. We need to force them to reveal themselves – and the only way we can do that is to present a genuine threat to their power. All worlds are expendable to the System, except one. Centre itself. Centre houses the bureaucrats who keep the System running, the headquarters of the System Navy and Enforcers, everything the System needs. We need to challenge the System right in its heart.”

She had to smile at their expressions. In theory, the whole concept was sound, but in practice there was the minor detail that the System had an entire fleet assigned to protecting Centre. Any rebel craft that entered the planet’s star system would be identified and destroyed before it got anywhere near the planet. The System had blanketed the entire region with mines and early-warning sensors. Nothing could get near Centre without the System knowing about it. And after she’d raided Blindside Base, she would have bet everything she had that they had reorganised the IFF codes at Centre, if nowhere else.

One of the more untrusting rebels put it into words. “The System has enough firepower amassed around Centre to wreak an entire sector,” he said, coldly. “Do you propose that we try to break through that force? We would lose everything we had left, every ship and every person assigned to the suicide mission. I will not agree to risking everything.”

“A direct assault would be futile,” Jennifer agreed. “The Blindside, however, can slip through their defences as if they weren't there. With a great deal of care – and a little bit of luck – she can reach a point in hyperspace that corresponds to Centre and open portals into the undercity – all of the undercities. We can move in an armour – and weapons and supplies for the groups already there – and start tormenting the System. They’d be facing their worst nightmare; an armed insurrection on Centre itself.”

“But they’d just scour the world,” the rebel pointed out. He glared at her. “That is what they have always done! Every world that tried to launch an insurrection was eventually scoured clear of life by the System. We could launch armed uprisings on a thousand worlds that might take the planet’s surface, but they’d just be slaughtered when the System Navy arrived to destroy the planet, just to convince others that rebellion is futile. What’s to stop them scouring Centre itself?”

Jennifer smiled. “First, Centre is the hub of the System,” she said. “If they destroy Centre, they will cripple their own network, risking their control over their empire. Second, the crew onboard the massive orbital fortresses and the cruisers patrolling nearby space have their friends and family on the planet below. If the System orders them to destroy the world – and their own families – there is a good chance that they might mutiny. And if that happens, we stand to win far more than just Centre. Third...if they scour Centre despite the risks of mutiny, they will convince thousands of other worlds that they can't rely on the System not to harm them, even if they do submit to its rule. They’d think long and hard before scouring Centre. They’d be far more likely to order troops to battle us in the Undercity rather than destroy the entire world.

“What does that give us?” She asked. “It gives us a chance to expose the System’s masters. When their subordinates fail to keep a lid on the problem, they will have to take control themselves. Before we start our insurrection, we will have taps on the galactic net and the local nodes at Centre. We will have a chance to trace those orders back to their source. And once we know where they’re coming from, we will be able to locate the System’s masters.

“I'm not saying that it’s going to be easy,” she continued. “It’s going to be hard. You can't expect the System to roll over and accept Centre being invaded without a harsh response. They will deploy millions of troopers to the surface and start hunting us down; we will have to fight them directly, for the first time since the Final Wave was launched into space.”

“There are billions of potential rebels in the undercities,” one of the other councillors mused. “If we could equip them – train them – they could be lethal.”

“But they might start withdrawing their hub from Centre,” the sceptical rebel pointed out. “What’s to stop them withdrawing to another world and then scouring Centre?”

Jennifer grinned. “There isn't a single person in the System who will order that on their own authority,” she said. “The orders would have to come from the System’s masters. We’d have a chance to track down the source of the orders and act before they can finish transferring the hub elsewhere. And even if we couldn't, it would take years to transfer all of the essential personnel off-world. The System Navy has an excellent logistical system, but it would have real problems transferring billions of people off-world.”

She frowned, inwardly. She’d been a worker, one of the massive army of bureaucrats that kept the System running. And yet...everything they’d done in that army could have been more efficiently done by an AI. If the System knew what was in the Forbidden Sector, they might have good reason to refrain from building an AI to handle the System’s logistics, even at the price of inefficiency. And yet...something about the whole process simply didn't make sense. The System might be grimly determined to assert its power and wipe all traces of individuality from the galaxy, but there was always a method to its madness. Why would it willingly accept inefficiency.

“All we need is an army,” she concluded. “We will skim into Centre, using drones to conceal our presence and distract the watching starships. My team from the undercity will make contact with the TechRats and other rebel groups. We will build up our forces and then we will launch our insurrection.”

She paused. “In order to convince the System that we are still operating out in the greater galaxy, we will be raiding soft targets with the Brilliant,” she added. “It will help lure them into a state of complacency. Ideally, they’d never realise that there was a link between us and the insurrection on Centre.

“I admit that this plan has risks,” she concluded. “However, there is simply too much at stake to refuse to challenge the System now. Once they release the new strain of nanotech, there will be no more hope of resistance. We will all become insects in an insect hive, serving our masters and never thinking for ourselves. You know how ruthless the System is when it comes to maintaining their power. Don’t kid yourselves that they won’t release the nanotech.”

Her eyes swept across the room. “This is the last chance the human race will ever have to overthrow the System. I propose that we take it, now!”

***​

Captain Vaster came to her an hour later. “They’ve agreed to try your plan,” he said. “Not all of them were convinced, but if the Blindside is half as capable as you suggested, we can at least give the System a nasty fright.”

“Yeah,” Jennifer agreed. “And once they manage to build a second Blindside, they’d be able to deduce what we were doing and close that particular loophole.”

She stared down at her hands. “We need an army,” she said. “And then we can depart.”

“I’ll be coming with you,” Captain Vaster said. “They voted to give me the army we've been slowly building up for the final conflict. We’re placing almost everything we have on your gamble, Jennifer. If we lose now, we lose it all.”

Jennifer held out a hand. “We won’t lose,” she assured him. He didn't look convinced, but then he’d been fighting a hopeless battle since long before Jennifer had been born. The Dark Lady had had a tradition of victory and rarely doubted herself, if only because self-doubt might lead to doubting the System. And then where would she have been? “And if nothing else, we will delay the System from extending its control over the remainder of the galaxy.”

“Maybe,” Captain Vaster said. “And perhaps they’d just start deploying their nanotech ahead of time. We fail here, we lose everything - forever. The end of the human race.”

“Perhaps that’s what we deserve,” he added, a moment later. Jennifer looked up at him sharply, surprised. He’d never been so...downcast before, even on Rupert’s World. “How many other alien races have died at our hands? We killed them all, just for being different. Why should we not face the same ourselves?”

Jennifer had no answer.

 

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

Captain Dover disliked hyperspace intensely.

It made no sense. One moment, the Loyalist could pick up targets over five light years away – insofar as light years existed in hyperspace – and the next, they could only pick up targets that were right on top of them. The rolling energy storms didn't help, even though the space around Centre was the most intensely monitored in the galaxy. There had been times when Loyalist had been forced to drop out of hyperspace altogether and wait for the storm to dispel before returning to the maelstrom. If the System ever discovered another way of travelling faster than light, Dover knew that he would be the first to volunteer to test the new system.

“Captain,” his sensor officer said, “I think I have something, moving on a direct course towards Centre.”

Dover scowled. One of the other problems with hyperspace was that it sometimes threw of mirages, illusions that somehow convinced the starship’s sensors that another starship was right on the verge of crashing into them. The theorists suggested that it might have something to do with hyperspace’s compressed nature – creating a sensor illusion of a starship that was much further away – but the cause hardly mattered. All that mattered was that the defenders of Centre endured hundreds of false alarms, all that had to be investigated, every month.

“Show me,” he ordered, keying his console. An image appeared in front of him, an object moving towards Centre under its own power. Very little resolution was available at such a distance and he scowled. The last thing he wanted to do was to leave his position in the defences and investigate a possible target – which was probably an illusion – but he had no choice. All incoming targets had to be investigated. “Helm, break out of position and put us on an intercept course.”

“Aye, sir,” the helmsman said.

The hum of the drives increased for a long moment as Loyalist turned and headed towards the incoming starship – or illusion. Dover kept his eyes on the display, expecting to see the unknown ship recede into the distance, or vanish into hyperspace. Instead, the image grew sharper, slowly taking on shape and form. He felt his mouth drop open when the image allowed him to see the ship’s real shape. Ten small black cubes, linked together by twisting strands of an unknown material, powered by an unknown source. It was as alien as hell – and a potential threat. There were odd studs on the vessel’s hull that his instincts told him were weapons. They didn't seem to match anything he’d ever seen, or anything stored within the System’s databases. Encountering an alien ship was always dangerous, if only because aliens had a habit of coming up with something completely new and therefore unexpected.

And the alien ship was heading right towards Centre.

“Communications,” Dover ordered slowly, “attempt to raise them, standing interstellar communication protocol. Run through the entire first contact package; see if we can talk to them.”

Standard orders upon encountering an unknown alien race were fairly simple. The System was to be informed immediately, the starship was to attempt to establish contact – and the newcomers were not to learn anything about the System until the System had established contact. In the long run, aliens – all aliens – were to be brought into the System, but that wouldn’t happen until the System knew what it was about to take on. Campaigns against self-starfaring alien races often produced unpleasant surprises. The System had never encountered an alien race that had a far superior technology to humanity’s – with the possible exception of the Slugs – but space was vast. There was always a first time.

“No response, sir,” the communications officer said. “They may not be able to hear us. Hyperspace drowns out all communications past a certain point...”

“I know,” Dover said, dryly. The communications officer was young, on his first tour after going through the extensive training procedure. He had a habit of trying to inform his Captain of details that anyone who had spent most of his life in space would understand instinctively. “Repeat the first contact package; see if it produces a response.”

He scowled. Orders were orders – and yet, he had conflicting orders. Nothing was to be allowed near Centre without being identified and checked, not even an unknown alien ship. If the aliens kept moving, he would have no choice, but to open fire – which might embroil the System in war with an alien race of unknown power. Just for a moment, he teetered on the brink of indecisiveness, before recalling his orders. The security of Centre came before anything else.

“Launch a probe into normal space to alert the System,” he ordered. “Weapons, prepare to fire a shot across their bows.” There was a moment’s pause. “Fire!”

Normal energy weapons didn't work very well in hyperspace. Somehow – and the Scientists were still tearing out their hair trying to understand why – the energy pulses just faded into the background. Missiles, however, worked very well, as long as they were propelled by a hyperdrive. The missile was still flaring towards its target when the alien ship’s energy signature suddenly spiked. Captain Dover had a moment to realise that the ship was on the verge of destroying itself before the magnetic fields protecting ten containers of antimatter failed. In hyperspace, such an explosion would cause an energy storm. The Loyalist was caught up in the wavefront and destroyed.

***​

“And then nothing?”

Admiral Singh frowned down at his officers. From his command post, in one of the massive orbital fortresses protecting Centre, he commanded an entire fleet of cruisers and enough firepower to lay waste to half the galaxy. And yet he was puzzled. The message probe from the Loyalist had reported an unknown alien ship – and then contact had been lost. The stations in hyperspace, however, reported that a new energy storm had flared into existence. A mistake – or the first shot in a war?

He looked up at the display. If an unknown alien race was attacking the System, Centre was a logical first target. They could take out the hub of the entire System and it would take weeks, perhaps months, to reassert control over the fleets deployed elsewhere. A determined attacker could wreak havoc in that period.

“Order additional cruisers to move into that sector and begin scanning for possible threats,” he ordered, finally. He’d have to send them close to a newly-formed energy storm, which was always dangerous, but there was little choice. “Move up 45<SUP>th</SUP> Squadron in support and place the entire defence network on alert.”

“Aye, sir,” the operator said.

***​

There was no need to whisper – sound didn't travel through hyperspace, let alone normal space – but Ghost spoke quietly anyway. “The Blindside detected the formation of an energy storm on the other side of Centre System,” the AI said. “The decoy must have been detected.”

Jennifer nodded, inwardly. With her mind and Ghost’s in rapport, information flowed into her brain. The decoy had taken a week to produce, yet it had clearly been worth all the effort. It had looked completely alien, posing a threat that the System’s defenders couldn't ignore. After all, their worst nightmare was a powerful alien race turning up to do unto humanity as humanity had done unto others. They’d be scrambling every cruiser they had to that region, monitoring that zone to determine if the alien craft had been alone, or if it was merely the vanguard of an invading armada of ships. And in the meantime, Brilliant and Blindside would slip through the defences as if they weren't even there.

Her mind touched the link to Blindside and data, oddly formed and compressed, flowed into her mind. Blindside’s mainframe – she refused to think of it as her daughter – had access to sensors that should have been far more limited than those on Brilliant, but instead provided a near-perfect impression of hyperspace. The data flowing into her showed hyperspace in pristine detail, including the minefields the System had scattered through the approach vectors and the knot of compressed space that marked the location of Centre. She was mildly amused to realise that some of the mines were poorly placed, although there would have been no way to test them without actually detonating them. The hyperspace tides would have been pushing them away from their fixed locations. Nothing was permanent in hyperspace.

Except perhaps the Blindside, she thought, as the two ships inched closer. Brilliant was right on top of the revolutionary starship, linked physically through direct links, and yet she was having real problems tracking the Blindside. The starship was almost undetectable in hyperspace, which opened up all kinds of possibilities. Jan had insisted on joining the mission, pointing out that they would need his links with the TechRats to succeed, but she’d unloaded the other two scientists at the rebel base. With the proper encouragement, perhaps they could rebuild their project for the rebels. Jennifer had also unloaded the Brilliant’s two fabricators. Given enough time, they could produce an exact copy of Blindside Base.

The thought bothered her. The Dark Lady wouldn't have hesitated to rip open a person’s mind, destroy their individuality and install them as an organic control nexus for a starship. Jennifer liked to think that she was a bit more ethical. And yet, if they failed, the System would destroy all hope of freedom, forever. Was it worth creating a series of abominations in order to defeat the System? She mused on it for a long moment, and then shook her head. By the time the rebels had to make that choice, she would either have succeeded in locating and destroying the System’s masters, or she would be dead. Someone else would have to make the hard decision.

“Show me Centre,” she ordered. From Brilliant’s perspective, there was nothing more than a handful of mines and a whirling swarm of energy that obscured everything else, even the four patrolling starships that were clearly angling over to face an imaginary threat. She allowed herself a smile. It was incredibly difficult to coordinate fleet movements in hyperspace and by the time they realised that they had been snookered, they’d have wasted entire days hunting for the alien ships. The only danger lay in the System Navy accidentally stumbling over the rebels as they hunted for the aliens. Anywhere else, the odds of encountering a starship on random patrol would have been incalculably low, but near Centre the System had dozens of starships, from patrolling cruisers to freighters bringing loot to the System’s masters. A single mistake could be disastrous.

Blindside, on the other hand, showed her everything. It was easy to chart a course through hyperspace that should allow them to evade every possible threat – and once they were within the tight knot of space that represented Centre, they would be undetectable. She’d worried that the System Navy would have been warned about the lost Blindside, but that was unlikely. The System wouldn't want to admit that they’d lost a revolutionary starship, let alone explain to its servants precisely what that ship could do. And even if they did, the sensor network would have to be completely redesigned – if possible – to track a starship that was native to hyperspace.

“Take us in,” she ordered. “Slowly. Very slowly.”

It hadn't been easy to rig up control links from Brilliant to Blindside. The two mainframes were effectively incompatible – something that was odd, for the System – and the control nexuses refused to work together. Eventually, they’d rigged up a semi-workable system, but if the ships had to separate it would be almost impossible to reconnect them. She felt a flicker of cold horror running down the back of her neck as the two starships slid closer to the minefield. In theory, the mines wouldn't be able to detect them until they were right on top of the minefield, but theory wasn't looking so reliable now. The tension rose as they neared the mines...and then suddenly they were inside the minefield. She could feel them outside the ship, waiting for the slightest trace that a ship was close enough to engage...time seemed to stretch out...and then they were through. Jennifer let out a long breath as they floated into clear hyperspace, watching the two System cruisers patrolling some distance from their location. They shouldn't be able to detect them, but hyperspace was unusually clear near a planet. The System might just get lucky.

“They seem to have missed us,” Ghost said. Even the AI sounded perturbed. “I am ready to begin the hyperspace storm protocol.”

Jennifer nodded, slowly. Every spacer knew, deep within the fibre of his being, that challenging a hyperspace storm was suicidal. The rebels had told her that some of the System’s most powerful people – and their children – sometimes tried to ride the fury of the hyperspace storms, but very few of them survived the experience. And she was about to take two starships right into a knot in hyperspace, a location corresponding to that of a planet. No one had ever tried it before – or if they had, they’d never come back to report failure. Even the System would hesitate before trying to probe into such a dangerous storm. The results could be disastrous.

“There’s still time to back out,” Ghost said, picking up on her unease. No, it wasn’t unease; it was terror. Terror of an implacable force of nature that made even the System look small and puny. For a moment, she wondered if that was what drove the System’s masters, if they’d looked out upon the vastness of space, realised just how small they were against the immensity of the universe, and set out to take control of everything. Why not? It was as good a theory as any other – and it was hard to tell how else they benefited from their power. “We could find another way to get into the system...”

“We can't,” Jennifer said. No matter how she worked the problem, a direct assault against Centre was suicide – and picking away at random targets would eventually prove fatal. Besides, given enough time, the System would create another Blindside and be ready for when Jennifer worked up the nerve to try again. “There’s no other choice.”

She opened her mind to the intensity of the storm. Great sheets of energy crashed through hyperspace, blasting their rage across the universe. The tight nexus of power, almost like a whirlpool in a watery bay, daunted her, daring her to challenge its rage. Brilliant flashes of light danced across her vision, each one powerful enough to shatter the entire System Navy, before fading away into the maelstrom. The sight was almost hypnotic, as if she couldn't quite look away. Sheer terror kept her rooted to the spot. She was nothing compared to the storm. The early space travellers hadn’t known anything about hyperspace when they’d first discovered how to enter the alternate dimension, and yet they’d persisted, eventually discovering how to use hyperspace as a relatively safe means of transport. How could she do any less.

Brilliant’s drive field faded away, leaving only the connection to Blindside. Jennifer half-expected it to fail, for Brilliant to drop back into normal space right in front of Centre’s defenders, before she realised that Blindside was holding her steady. If hyperspace hadn't been a high-energy universe, she realised, the ‘weight’ of Brilliant would have dragged her back into normal space, pulling a protesting Blindside with her. She smiled, wryly. If the new drive technology entered common usage, they were going to have to devise a whole new lexicon. The old one would only confuse people.

“Here we go,” Ghost said. “We will enter the tight knot of energy in two minutes...”

The storm suddenly reached out towards them, flaring energy around the two ships. Blindside rode the storm somehow, like a cork running down the rapids, and Brilliant followed her. The storm seemed to shift around them, allowing them passage, even as shockwaves crashed against the hull. The entire ship was shaking, as if an angry god wanted to terrify its occupants; Jennifer saw a roaring wave of energy crashing towards them and closed her eyes, expecting that the next moment would be her last. Instead, the wave seemed to crash around them, throwing them deeper into the nexus. Wave after wave beat against them, threatening the hull’s integrity. Jennifer had never experienced anything like it in her life – in either of her lives. The thought made her smile, even as she braced herself for another hit. She’d discovered something that not only impressed the Dark Lady, but left her feeling mortally threatened.

There was a final shockwave and then they were suddenly floating free. Jennifer felt sick, almost, as a faint shiver ran through the hull. It dawned on her that they were sharing the same space as Centre and if they lost their connection to Blindside they would be destroyed instantly. She wondered what would happen to Centre if Brilliant tried to occupy the same space and time. Teleporter accidents had left people merged into walls and floors – the shock had killed them instantly, thankfully – but this...would there be a planet-shattering explosion?

She considered it as Ghost – and the organic mainframe – fought for stability. The System had attempted to develop a method for dropping bombs out of hyperspace. It had failed, if only because the System hadn't possessed the technology to target them with any accuracy, but now...it might be possible. The thought was terrifying. Entire worlds could be cracked open without ever knowing that they were under attack. The rebels could use it to take out the Core Worlds, but it wouldn't take the System long to retaliate once they worked out what was going on. Every new technology opened the possibility of abuse...

“Location secure,” Ghost said, breaking into her thoughts. “I believe that I can now target the portal to any given location on Centre.”

Jennifer nodded. If they’d got it wrong, the entire plan was about to fail spectacularly.

“Inform Alvin and link us to Blindside,” she said, disconnecting from the neural link. “It’s time to make history.”

 

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

The portal was a glittering square of light.

It had taken nearly a week to devise a coding algorithm for portals and, in the end, the rebels had had to ask the Rogue AIs for help. They’d provided one, finally, after nearly a day of computing time. In human terms, that was very nearly an eternity. Jennifer suspected that the Rogue AIs had been more than a little alarmed by the Blindside; if nothing else, the technology would allow the System to assault them in the Forbidden Sector. Even with their help, though, it was extremely difficult to focus the portal on a specific location on Centre. The two scientists they’d kidnapped from Blindside Base had attempted to explain it to Jennifer, but an hour later she’d had a bad headache and felt none the wiser.

“It’s ready,” Jan said. The square of light glowed in the semidarkness. “Let’s go.”

Alvin took the lead. His suit of powered combat armour, redesigned for use in the undercity, glittered oddly as he stepped forward, into the portal. Jennifer felt a chill running down her spine as he disappeared. She’d been familiar with teleporters in both of her lifetimes, but this was different. Given time, the hyperspace material was going to completely revolutionise the universe. Alvin had just vanished into normal space...

A long moment passed, and then Alvin poked his head back through the portal. “It’s clear,” he said, cracking open his armour. “I think we missed the intended arrival zone, but we’re clear to proceed.”

Jennifer watched as the rest of his team passed through the portal, then she donned her own helmet and proceeded towards the glowing light. It should have been easy to step through after their passage through the hyperspace knot of energy that represented Centre, but the sense of walking into the unknown grew stronger, almost bringing her to a halt. The first person to use a teleporter – to have their molecules broken down into energy and transmitted across space – must have felt the same way. No matter how precise the science, it still felt like a desperate leap into the unknown. She felt nothing as she stepped through the portal, but when she emerged on the other side she saw nothing, but the semidarkness of the undercity. Above her, she knew, was the System’s megacity, built on the remains of far older cities. The thought of all that material just waiting to crash down on her made her shiver, again. The human race wasn't meant to live like this.

The thought gave her strength as the team spread out. She hadn't allowed herself to worry about what would happen after they destroyed the System, but with the level of technology the human race had developed, it should be fairly simple to create paradise. There was no real need for any kind of drudge work, let alone the mindless and repetitive tasks the System set its worker caste; the human race could relax and concentrate on developing itself. The alien races would have to be freed – and if they were given the same technology, perhaps it would make up for what the human race had done to them.

A light flared up in the distance, revealing that they were standing in the middle of a massive chamber, an old pumping station so old that it probably predated the System. Jennifer’s suit flashed up a dozen warnings about dangerous contaminants loose in the air, but it seemed to concede that the nanites running through their bloodstream should be enough to scrub them out of their bodies before they did any harm. Even so, Jennifer kept the suit on. The eerie illumination provided by the lichen on the walls was getting to her. The undercities had developed in ways that seemed strange to the rest of the human race.

Jan tapped her arm and nodded towards one of the pipes. “We know where we are,” he said, finally. Jennifer had worried about that possibility. The undercity was vast, with countless miles of underground buildings, chambers and everything else; there was no united civilisation or government. If there had been one, the System would have wiped it out before it turned into a threat to their hold on Centre. The undercity was ruled by a thousand different gangs, some attempting to cling to some form of civilisation – like the TechRats – and others gleefully withdrawing from humanity. Jennifer had heard tales from Ali about ritual cannibalisation and strange religions, spreading through the undercity like a plague.

“The Children of the Night are ahead of us, between us and the TechRats,” Jan said. “I don’t think they’d come here very often, but we will have to talk to them before we pass through their territory.”

Jennifer nodded. “We can secure this compartment and start bringing through the supplies,” she said. They’d packed both starships with as many soldiers as they could, equipping them all with the latest in System-designed weapons. Once they were in the undercity, the real work could begin. “I’ll come with the team to make contact.”

Jan looked as if he wanted to argue, but gave up before he said a word. Instead, he deployed the first swarm of recon nanites, designed to start charting out the undercity. The System had never bothered to attempt to produce maps of the world below the megacities, while the TechRats had never had the tech to spare. Now billions of nanites would be drifting through the air, sending back images that processors could turn into a chart of the underworld. Jennifer smiled to herself as updated maps began to appear on her HUD. They’d soon know their way through the undercity.

“Come on, then,” Alvin said. He sounded gleeful, probably because he would be returning home in a full suit of armour. “Let's go.”

Alvin led the way towards one of the massive pipes and right into it. Absolute darkness fell, leaving them blind until their augmented eyes adapted to their new surroundings. The HUD blinked up more warnings about dangerous chemicals in the environment, but Jennifer ignored it. If the entire area had been lethal to human life, the undercity dwellers would have learned to stay away from it, rather than use it as a possible base. The pipe was replaced by another pipe, then they scrambled up a ladder that creaked and groaned under the weight of their armour. They soon found themselves in another wider compartment, one that reminded Jennifer of a swimming pool. The pool held nothing, but what looked like a biological dumping ground. It felt so old that it might date all the way back to the Genetic Wars. Her suit’s onboard analysis computer couldn't identify half of the compounds at the bottom of the swimming pool.

It seemed to get darker as they move through another series of tunnels and up a set of stairs, half buried under concrete and rock. Jennifer slowly worked out what had happened to the surrounding area. At one time, it would have been on the surface, and then someone had concreted it over and buried it below the ground. She caught sight of what looked like a children’s picture – a humanoid rabbit with long ears, a duck, a hunter carrying a gun – and felt an odd lump in her throat. Children would have come to the swimming pool to play, thousands of years ago. Now, it was nothing more than a death trap for unwary humans.

The motion detectors blinked an alert as they entered another dark tunnel. There were forms moving up ahead, barely registering on the sensors. They seemed humanoid, yet they were hard for the sensors to track, suggesting that they either wore armour themselves or they weren't quite human. Cold-blooded aliens, she recalled from her part life, were actually harder to track, at least without reconfiguring the sensors. The aliens had inflicted considerable damage on System patrols before they’d worked out why the aliens seemed to be almost invisible.

“Everyone stay still,” Alvin grunted. “They’re all around us.”

The image sharpened as Jan’s nanites started to focus on the area. There were over forty humanoid forms surrounding them, most holding primitive weapons that had probably been salvaged from the undercity rather than stolen from the System. None of them seemed larger than a ten-year-old child, as if they were all stunted dwarfs. Jennifer remembered what Jan had said about passing through gang territory and scowled. The gangs would be intensely territorial. It was all they had.

Alvin put his plasma gun on the ground and walked forward slowly, cracking open his helmet before Jennifer could say anything to stop him. He stopped near one of the shadowy figures and started to speak, so softly that Jennifer could barely hear him, even with the suit’s enhancements. There was a long pause as the newcomers conferred among themselves, and then Alvin waved the others forward. The area suddenly glowed with an eerie reddish light, casting the scene into sharp relief. And Jennifer found herself looking at one of the Children of the Night.

He – or she, for there was no way to tell – was short, yet clearly strong. The eyes bulged out of pallid grey skin, more like an animal’s eyes than a baseline human. The ears were huge, almost bat-like. Jennifer felt herself shiver as she saw the mouth open, revealing sharp and very nasty teeth. After thousands of years of evolution and natural selection – and exposure to some of the nastier genetic compounds that had been dumped down in the sewers – they’d changed so much that they were barely human. Jennifer’s eyes, as augmented as they were, had difficulty seeing in the undercity. She had the feeling that the Children of the Night could see perfectly, even in absolute darkness.

“They’ve agreed to allow us passage through this part of their territory,” Alvin said, very softly. Jennifer remembered the ears and realised that even a normal speaking volume would be uncomfortably loud for the Children of the Night. “They’re not so sure about joining us in war, but they’ve agreed to send representatives to the meeting, when we finally announce it.”

He led the way down the corridor, ignoring the remaining sentinels. The Children of the Night kept watching them until they reached the edge of their territory, at which point they faded back into the darkness and were gone. They were alone again, apart from a handful of scavengers that could be seen in the distance, prowling around looking for dead bodies and what few supplies could be dug out of the undercity. She saw, just briefly, what looked like a mutated fox before it vanished into the shadows, its teeth dripping red with the blood of its prey. It might have found a weakened human and killed him, just to live a few moments longer.

“Everyone down here knows that life is cheap,” Jan said. The TechRat sounded bitter. “The System could create a paradise, but instead they seal off the undercity and forget about it. Every year, they seal off a few more passages from the undercity up to the megacity – one day, they will have sealed them all and the undercity will just be left alone.”

Jennifer scowled. “How many...other versions of humanity are down here?”

“No one knows,” Jan admitted. “There are humans who have lost almost all of their intelligence and live like animals, without any concern for the future. There are some that have adapted well to an existence in a contaminated part of the undercity, but cannot leave without dying from withdrawal. And there are tiny communities that try to hang on to what high technology they can, hoping to use it to create a new life down here. The System wipes them out whenever they find them.”

“Like the TechRats,” Jennifer said.

“Yes,” Jan agreed. “Just like the TechRats.”

Jennifer glanced over at him, but his face was hidden behind his armour. It struck her that Jan had given up everything to come into the undercity and hide, refusing to develop his nanotech for the System. No wonder he was so angry at the System’s masters, even if he hadn't been able to strike at them until Jennifer had come into his life. The elderly scientist was consumed by anger. There was no reason why anyone had to live in such squalor, losing everything – even their very humanity – to remain alive.

“Here we are,” Alvin said. He cracked open his suit, again, and stepped out of it. “I’ll go make the introductions.”

“Watch yourself,” Jan warned. “They won’t be expecting to see us.”

Alvin nodded and walked off into the darkness. Jennifer waited – Jan hadn't been able to send his recon nanites into the chamber, knowing that his fellow TechRats would detect them and panic – nervously, until he finally reappeared with several others, all holding guns.

“It's all right,” he said, seriously. “They’re very pleased to see us.”

“Of course they are,” Jan said, as he cracked his suit. “We bring them hope.”

***​

Nearly nine hours later, Jennifer found herself watching as one of the TechRat chambers started to fill with representatives from the nearest gangs and communities in the undercity. The TechRats, according to Jan, served as neutral arbiters in the region, rather than taking sides themselves, something that had won them a great deal of respect from the other undercity dwellers. They’d helped plan raids that went all the way into the megacity, trying to harm the System, if only in a very small way. The Peacekeeper counterattacks were often blunted by traps set underground, leading them into killing zones. And now, if they all agreed to work together, they had a real chance to harm the System.

Alvin spoke first, explaining how they’d escaped the System and come back with rich rewards. He demonstrated his suit of armour to illustrate the point, and then detailed what they could do if they worked together to build an army. Jan spoke next, detailing the new technology – stolen off the System itself – and how it could be used to defeat the System, once and for all. There was a great roar of approval as he explained that thousands of plasma rifles and cannons, weapons that were rare in the undercity, were on their way, along with men who would train the undercity dwellers in their use. He even discussed the use of medical nanites to help cure all the little problems the undercity dwellers suffered – the System had never bothered to help, even though it could have done at relatively little cost – and how they could win, if they worked together. By the time Jennifer had to speak, the crowd was shouting their delight. It was a wonder that they couldn't be heard in the megacity.

“The System has one world it cannot lose,” Jennifer said. “That world is Centre, the world we are on right now. They will have to defeat us on the ground, yet instead of chasing unarmed men and women, they will be chasing people armed with weapons equal to theirs. If we fight now, we can take the megacities and everything the System has kept from everyone who tried to fight against it.”

The discussion lasted many hours. Jennifer found herself answering hundreds of questions, although luckily no one in the undercity had heard of the Dark Lady. Mostly, they focused on how they’d been able to take a starship in the first place, let alone sneak back to Centre. Jennifer mentioned a new teleporter system, one designed by the rebels. The System would definitely take prisoners when the uprising began and if they knew about the Blindside, the System would know what was going on. They might not be able to chase the Blindside through the energy storm, but they could lurk outside Centre and wait for her to emerge. Blindside hadn’t been designed as a warship and even an older System cruiser could blow her away if she got a clear shot.

It was hard for her to track all of the conversations, but two groups seemed to be forming. One thought that fighting the System was a good thing in itself, even if they didn't win; the other seemed to think that victory against the System was impossible and that they’d only get themselves all killed. Eventually, the ones who wanted to fight gained a majority, although some of the ones who didn't want to fight announced their intention to head deeper into the undercity and wait for it all to end. Alvin made some sharp remarks about cowards that almost caused a fight, before Jan patched it up. They couldn’t afford to fight each other, not now.

“Give us a couple of weeks and we will be ready to move,” Jan said, afterwards. The first shipment of weapons and supplies had been pushed through the portal and unloaded into the undercity. The rebel soldiers had already started planning out a quick and dirty training course on use of plasma cannons and all the other goodies that Ghost had designed and built, back on the Brilliant. “Any longer and rumours might start working their way up towards the surface. We don't want the Peacekeepers armed and waiting for us.”

“No,” Jennifer agreed. She started to don her armour again, and then stopped. “I’ll do what I can to keep them busy over the coming fortnight.”

“Just keep the supplies coming,” Jan said. He looked over towards the growing pile of supplies, being unloaded by several TechRats and distributed to the waiting gangs. “And we will give the System a challenge it will never forget. If nothing else, we will shatter its complacency forever.”

“Yeah,” Jennifer said. “And they might just bring up the nanotech you designed and end all hope of rebellion, forever. We cannot afford to lose this battle.”

“And we won't,” Jan said. “You do your part and we will concentrate on ours.”

 

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

Jennifer would never have admitted it to Jan, or to any of the others from the undercity, but it was a relief to be back in space. A week had passed, during which they’d ferried supplies from the remainder of the rebel fleet into Centre, carefully avoiding the System’s patrols. They’d even tried dragging a bulk freighter through the defences and into position to unload directly into the undercity, but the starship had started to lose structural integrity almost as soon as they had reached the energy storm. It had exploded, taking thousands of tons of supplies and several dozen soldiers with it. The only consolation was that the explosion had created a new energy storm to worry the System’s defenders. Blindside didn't have to worry about energy storms.

“I have a lock on our target,” Ghost said, interrupting her thoughts. “One System cruiser, the Heritor.”

The data flowed into her mind and Jennifer smiled. The System had been running patrols through isolated stars, hoping to track down a rebel base. Jennifer had been tracking the patrolling cruisers herself, looking for a chance to take one of them out without serious danger. The System, once it realised that it had lost a ship, would concentrate on hunting for the mythical rebel base, keeping their eyes away from Centre. Or so she hoped.

“Good,” she said. The Heritor was actually inferior to Blindside, although she had a suspicion that the class had been updated during her years on Centre. “Prepare to take us in.”

“All systems ready,” Ghost informed her. “I merely await your command.”

“Time to go hunting,” Jennifer said. She drew her lips back into a snarl. “Go!”

Space rippled around Brilliant as she picked up speed, dropping the cloak as she moved, and lanced down towards the unwary Heritor. The enemy starship had been operating at yellow alert, with shields protecting her from possible ambush, but they hadn't taken the threat seriously. Before they could boost their shields, Jennifer opened fire with the Brilliant’s phase cannons. Brilliant sparks of light shot across space and slammed into the Heritor. The smaller cruiser spun under the blows, her AI desperately trying to raise additional shields while firing back at the Brilliant. Jennifer grinned, evilly, as her starship went into an evasive spiral, avoiding the Heritor’s fire with ease. Her ship shook as she unleashed a spread of quantum torpedoes, each one targeted on the Heritor. The enemy ship barely managed to launch a spread of her own before all nine torpedoes slammed into her hull. Nothing could stand up to that, not even a System cruiser. The resulting explosion blew the Heritor into a cloud of radioactive plasma.

“Target destroyed,” Ghost said, dryly. “Enemy torpedoes have lost their lock and...”

There was a series of explosions through space. “Torpedoes have self-destructed,” Ghost added. Four new targets appeared in Jennifer’s mind. “I am detecting three System cruisers and one destroyer. All ships are on an intercept vector.”

Jennifer frowned. “Were they waiting in ambush?”

“Perhaps, but unlikely,” Ghost said. “They had no way of knowing which ship we were going to target, or even if we intended to target any of them. Furthermore, the ambush – if it was intended to be an ambush -was badly botched. It is rather more likely that the System merely intended to use this star system as a rendezvous point and we merely got unlucky.”

“Let’s hope so,” Jennifer agreed. The four enemy starships were piling on the speed, trying to catch Brilliant before she vanished into hyperspace. She was tempted to remain still long enough to exchange a few shots with the enemy ships, but it would have been dangerously close to suicide. Three cruisers along possessed enough firepower to reduce Brilliant to her component atoms and there would be no advantage of surprise. “Take us out of here.”

“Understood,” Ghost said. Hyperspace shimmered into existence around Brilliant. The eerie colours slid into Jennifer’s head, leaving her feeling a little sick. “We’re clear of the enemy ships.”

“Watch for other ships,” Jennifer ordered, as she disconnected from the neural link. It wasn’t like her to have such a reaction to hyperspace, but then she had been on edge recently. And the shock of nearly flying into an accidental ambush hadn't helped. She liked to think that it was a sign that the Jennifer persona was neatly separated from the Dark Lady, yet she knew that it wouldn't be so easy. There was a final series of locked memories inside her head, waiting for their chance to emerge into the light. “Are we clear?”

“We seem to be,” Ghost informed her. “No sign of enemy ships in hyperspace.”

Jennifer relaxed. “Take us to the waypoint,” she ordered. They’d been shipping vast amounts of guns and other supplies into the undercity. It was impossible to produce enough armour for all the undercity dwellers, or even the rebel soldiers they were transporting into the undercity, but they had plenty of everything else. “I’m going to take a nap. Wake me up when we reach the waypoint, or when the **** hits the fan.”

“Of course,” Ghost said. There was a pause. “And while you are resting, I will even clean up the ship for you.”

Jennifer had to smile. The AI’s sense of humour was growing more pronounced. It left her wondering if they were going to become more separate, at least when they weren't merged together, but maybe that wasn't a bad thing. If one set of AIs could become completely independent of humanity, perhaps others could too. Maybe the Rogue AIs would rejoin a post-System universe. She mused on the possibilities as she walked into her compartment and lay down on the bed. It was very definitely a possibility.

She found herself thinking of the undercity as she closed her eyes. Billions of people living in the crushed remains of ancient cities, all desperately trying to stay alive with the System breathing down their necks. If they succeeded in launching their insurgency, millions of people on both sides were still going to die. She wished she could find a better way, but nothing suggested itself. The System had to be stopped and destroyed, whatever the cost.

***​

“Curious,” Wild said. “Very curious.”

The report in front of him was short, concise and came right to the point. A cruiser, positively identified as the Brilliant, had attacked and destroyed another cruiser, the Heritor, before vanishing back into hyperspace. It was several sectors away from Ashfall, further from Centre than the now-dead world, on the other side of the Forbidden Sector. Wild pulled up a stellar display and studied it thoughtfully. He’d deployed part of 2<SUP>nd</SUP> Fleet into the area to look for hidden rebel bases – they’d have other bases apart from Ashfall – and Jennifer had taken the opportunity to destroy one of his ships.

And yet there was something odd about the whole report. Jennifer would know that destroying a single ship wouldn’t get her anything, apart from a brief moment of satisfaction. The 2<SUP>nd</SUP> Fleet was still far stronger than anything the rebels could put together. And that suggested...what? Target of opportunity or a desperate attempt to hide something in that particular star system? He thumbed through the report until he reached the next section, which reported that the System Navy had searched the planets thoroughly and found nothing. The rebels didn't appear to have a base in the system.

Wild shrugged inwardly. The rebels were good at hiding, if only because the System wouldn't hesitate to bring a hammer down on them if they were found. A rebel base, even a large one, could be concealed from orbital survey without much effort. They’d have to block all emissions that might lead the System right to their base, but that wouldn't be hard. And the star system included a gas giant that could be used as a hiding place for a small fleet of starships. Even the System Navy would hesitate to search the interior of a gas giant.

He was still considering the matter when his private console chimed an alert. Wild froze, and then painted an obedient expression on his face. Only one group called him on the ultra-secure link, the masters of the System itself. If they were calling, after everything that had happened at Blindside Base, he doubted that the news would be good. He’d tried to scapegoat Commodore Adamson, yet a careful brainscan would have revealed his innocence. The only piece of good news was that they didn't suspect the truth. If they had, a force of armed men would have burst into his cabin and taken him prisoner.

“Sir,” he said, as soon as the link had formed and been checked for security. There was no video accompanying the signal. “I await your commands.”

There was a long pause. Hunter was orbiting one of the relay stations and the response should have been almost instantaneous. It suggested that the signal was being relayed through over a dozen relay stations, attempting to obscure its source. Wild knew better than to attempt to track it directly himself, even though it should have been easy. There was little else that would be more certain to bring his career to a quick and fatal end.

“The capture of the Blindside suggests that Jennifer has recovered her memory,” the atonal voice said, finally. Wild kept his expression blank, with an effort. They’d already concluded the worst, hadn't they? “The destruction of the Heritor suggests that she intends to keep hacking away at us, forcing us to secure every possible location against attack.”

“I agree,” Wild said, quickly. It was best to agree with them – besides, he didn’t see any flaw in their logic. They were likely to be right about Jennifer’s goal, given that she could hardly overthrow the System herself. And yet...if she’d recovered her entire memory, she might know the ultimate secret, the key to destroying the System once and for all. “I have already issued orders to secure every possible point of attack. 2<SUP>nd</SUP> Fleet will fly in squadrons and will be able to destroy the Brilliant...”

“Those are all noteworthy points,” the atonal voice said. “It is apparent, however, that you have been unable to destroy or recapture the Brilliant. Furthermore, you were incorrect to believe that Commodore Adamson was a rebel, working undercover at Blindside Base. It is now clear that Jennifer was somehow able to insert her codes into the galactic net and use them to authorise her and her team to board Blindside Base. You have failed us.”

For a long moment, Wild considered his escape plan. Escaping a cruiser, as countless rebels had discovered, was difficult, yet he knew that it could be done. And yet...perhaps they didn't intend to kill it. It was best to wait until he was sure which way to jump.

“Admiral Pasha will assume command of the search for Brilliant,” the System’s masters said. “You will return to Centre and assume command of the Enforcer Division there, where your skills can be put to work on our behalf. You served well there prior to this...unfortunate series of events.”

Wild bowed his head, fighting to remain calm. It wasn't, on the face of it, a demotion, yet it was a suggestion that the System’s masters no longer trusted him fully – insofar as they trusted anyone fully. Command of a fleet – with complete authority to commandeer whatever resources he felt he needed – was far superior to command of the Enforcer Division, back on Centre. At least they hadn't realised that he’d helped Jennifer escape – and to locate Blindside Base. He’d be dead by now if they had.

“Thank you, sir,” he said, as mildly as he could. He wanted to scream about the unfairness of it all, but there was little point. Even if he had been trying to catch Jennifer – and he had had to make a good show of trying to catch her – it would have been almost impossible without a remarkable stroke of luck. A little care on Jennifer’s part could keep her safe for the rest of her natural life, over a hundred years. “I shall board my spacer after briefing the Admiral.”

“We are sure that you will serve us well on Centre,” the masters said. Their voice was as implacable as ever. What they said was what would be – at least until he took their power for himself. The game was far from over. “The System needs your services.”

The private communicator clicked off as they broke the connection. Wild stared at it for a long moment, and then got to his feet. There was no point in delaying – besides, they might interpret delaying as disloyalty. There had been no way to tell, from their atonal voices, but he suspected that they were scared, and ready to lash out. Jennifer’s past self, once their most loyal servant, had turned on them. Who else might break the bonds of loyalty and attack their System, or try to track them down?

Shaking his head, he glared at his own face in the mirror, and then headed for the hatch. At least the Admiral wouldn’t be foolish enough to gloat. Wild could still break his career on a whim. And he would too, if only to confuse 2<SUP>nd</SUP> Fleet’s command structure a little. Who knew what someone like Jennifer could do with such confusion?

***​

“It seems to be working,” Captain Vaster said. They stood together in the observation blister, staring down at the planet below. Mentor wasn't a dead world, not unlike many of the other alien homeworlds the System had obliterated in passing, and it shone green and blue, just like Centre had been reputed to do before the System had covered it in megacities. “I had my doubts, but it seems to be working.”

Jennifer nodded, without speaking. Each trip to Centre was nerve-wreaking, but it shifted thousands of soldiers and enough guns to equip an entire army into the undercity, right under the System’s nose. The undercity dwellers, according to the reports that had been sent back, were natural warriors, born and bred in the harshest of environments. Some of them – the Children of the Night – would be unable to operate in the megacity, but they’d still be useful. They could fight in absolute darkness, attacking the System troopers who attempted to drive the rebels back into the undercity.

And every day, she knew, also brought the spectre of betrayal. The System could play all kinds of tricks on captured prisoners, from reading their minds directly to implanting them with controlling implants and then releasing them back into the undercity as unknowing spies. Jan was checking all of the new recruits, but there could be any number of implanted spies watching from a distance, alerting the System to the cancer growing in their midst. Or, for all she knew, the System had genuine adherents even in the undercity. They couldn't be detected, short of a brainscan, and they could pass unnoticed among the rebels.

Alvin had been fairly confident that they could move within two weeks, but Jennifer wasn't so sure – and nor with the other soldiers who had arrived on Centre. Centre was a colossal nightmare of concrete and metal, with thousands of layers of residential apartments and entertainment halls between the undercity and the government structures; they'd have to fight their way through the maze before reaching the important targets. And they’d have to do it without killing thousands of innocent workers. Who knew – maybe the workers would throw off their chains and rise in revolt. They could turn on the System too.

Or perhaps that wasn't too likely. The System had dominated their lives for a very long time, educating and training them to believe that the System was all-powerful. They had no privacy, nor any expectation of it; the few rebellions they were allowed were pitiful compared to what they needed to learn to fight back. It would take years to break their social conditioning. The only advantage the rebels had was that workers had been bred to be sheep. They wouldn't offer resistance to the rebels when they finally launched their uprising. If they had, it would have made everything much harder.

“Yes,” she said, finally. “It seems to be working.”

Captain Vaster gave her a sharp look. “You have doubts?”

“I have fears,” Jennifer admitted. It seemed to be easy to talk about them, now. “What happens if we win?”

“We’re free,” Captain Vaster pointed out. The thought was both welcome and terrifying. What would she have been, without the System? “The System is gone...”

“And billions of workers die because they don’t know how to live without it,” Jennifer said. “None of them have ever had to make a real decision in their lives. The System feeds them, trains them, assigns them to a job...they don’t know anything about taking care of themselves. What happens to them when the System falls apart?”

Captain Vaster considered it for a long moment. “If I’d heard you say that beforehand,” he admitted, “I would have known that you weren't the Dark Lady. Compassion was never part of her mind.”

Jennifer shrugged. “Answer the question,” she ordered. She had the uneasy feeling that the Dark Lady would have pressed harder, even if the question was a hard one. “What happens to the workers when the System falls apart?”

“Many of them will die,” Captain Vaster said, finally. His voice was bitter, rueful. He understood, all right. “I know what you mean. We will shatter the system that keeps them alive. And yet...if we don’t shatter the System, the System will destroy us all. There’s no choice.”

“I know,” Jennifer admitted. Another flight to Centre; another load of soldier and guns...one more step towards the final confrontation. She stared down at Mentor, homeworld to a race the System had exterminated, merely for being different. “It doesn't make it any easier.”