Authors: Mark G Brewer
[But three Orbitals . . . how would that happen?]
[I get bored easily! I don't know . . . imagine it, no one there talks to the AIs, and even if they did no AI is stupid enough to talk back. I probably got bored, you know me . . . I can't help myself.]
[So it's possible you, the Ham there, has already dealt to Beria?]
[No, I doubt that, I promised Marin.]
[He wants to save her? I don't believe it!]
[Nooo . . . he got in first dibs
-
he wants to do the job himself.]
She smiled at the thought, her two favorite men squabbling over who would do the deed.
They'll need to get past me first.
[What are your thoughts on Bob, can we trust him?]
[Well, we still don't know where he came from and that makes me uncomfortable]
[Can you blame him; he thinks we take over Orbitals. That means until he knows better we're a potential threat.]
[Regan, what I'd like to know is how he got here, now that's technology we'd be interested in.]
[Hmm, does your eye ever get off the ball?]
[I am good.]
[So how do we investigate that?]
[I've asked Hilary to introduce him to Aaron; I suspect he may share a bit more with an ignorant human.]
[And Aaron only needs a hint of the idea . . .?]
[Exactly.]
[Ham, let's be careful here, I suspect whoever Bob represents they're more likely to be friends than enemies so let's not offend them.]
[True and I agree. But sometimes, as you skillfully exposed earlier, even our friends need help to face certain truths. What is that saying . . . faithful are the wounds of a friend?]
[Uh-huh, ok, enough of that, let's plan this meeting.]
She sat up, pushed back against the wall, pulled out an old fashioned pen and paper and began to make notes.
* * *
It was an unusual meeting, held as it was on Hillary Station rather than displacing to the STEIN as was the normal practice. Being on Hillary also made it seem somehow more formal. It was easier to hold it at the Station as the STEIN Traveler was now permanently parked outside the pipe. It floated on its own just off the earthward end like a lonely moon, a sad thought that Regan quickly pushed it away.
The large conference room was perfect and Hilary's organization typically faultless. The group took some time to settle in. Bob, by request, remained out of sight. Bob was a new development of which Regan preferred they remain unaware for the moment.
The unusual feeling in the room was due to the attendance in person of two avatars, Ham and Hilary. They appeared in all their glory, the beautiful man and the gracious woman, seeming to have a tangible presence at the table. For Regan this was a surprise but not a shock. For the rest of the group, Hayden, Kevin, Mary, Marin, Kutch, Aaron, Rod and a subdued but determined Leah it was both shocking and fascinating. They couldn't stop themselves from continually turning to look. Rod, sitting closest to Ham, was obviously trying to manufacture some excuse to touch him and Ham ignored him pointedly.
When they finally broke for coffee and the two figures stood to join them it broke the ice, everyone gathering round, trying to screen off any projected light and finding all attempts to disrupt the images singularly unsuccessful. Both AI’s bathed in the attention and remained tight lipped as to how they accomplished it. As with most things it would remain for now a mystery. Somehow she could sense Bob's watchful gaze. She knew he would be envious of the attention and most likely shocked. This was a level of interaction, a demonstration of equality and an example of freedom that was probably unlikely in his domain.
As they chatted over coffee Regan's brief agenda remained on the wall as her prompt and she glanced over to it, considering what was to come.
* The Hillary Step
* International Shuttles
* EFDF
* Mystery ADF
(Coffee break)
*Operation Dahlia
The first two items had taken little time with the Americans now well established on the Step and adjusting to working with Hilary. The delivery of fifty ADFs to them had been a success. No incidents thus far, and joint exercises with Rod's flight team had been rewarding on all levels. They were good and Rod was impressed.
The Chinese were settling in and also had an order placed for fifty ADF. USDynamics expected to make delivery of those in the next month. There had been no word from the Russians on taking up the space held for them. It seemed they either didn't want to play, or felt they didn't need to. Kevin recommended hanging on to it for now as manufacturing space for USD and it was agreed.
Work on dismantling the Coran shuttle and using the technology to build international versions was proceeding well. To Regan's delight Hayden advised all partner nations had agreed to work together on the project. They would all share in the financing and the spoils. The shuttle being dismantled would be quickly rebuilt so that it could be utilized in the international development of the Step fleet. It was just the sort of international cooperation she was hoping for.
Rod's report on the new EFDFs was overwhelmingly positive, as was his glowing praise of the pilots. However this part of the discussion had been quickly overshadowed by the fuzzy visuals of mystery craft disappearing into the clouds. The craft’s origin was a concern but more worrying was its appearance. Though the picture quality was poor it did look like an ADF. As discussion continued about possible threats, the Russians being the likely source and the need to monitor this closely, Regan could see Rod's shoulders slumping. The 'unknown' craft couldn't be ignored and he knew it. It
was
a potential threat, an area of his responsibility. His eyes kept straying sadly to the last item on the agenda knowing any looming threat meant he wouldn't make the trip to Gliese 667, his responsibility would keep him here.
As the chatter continued Regan slipped around to his side and leaning in she whispered, "You'll get there, I promise."
Surprised, he turned quickly, but on seeing her face his expression dropped. "But not this time huh?"
"Sorry Rod, somebody's got to defend the kingdom. But hey, soon we'll be going back and forward so regularly you'll get your chance to explore the galaxy, I promise. Anyway, my instincts tell me you may see more action here." She smiled.
"You can sugarcoat it, but I'll know what you really think when you leave."
She stepped back, "How so?"
"If Jared stays I guess you feel he'll be safer here, all the action will be on Gliese."
She thought for a second, "I guess that's true, but safer doesn't mean less action. If that happened it just means I'm more confident he'll be kept safer here . . . won't he?"
He looked at her for a long moment and then smiled. "You can count on it."
She hugged him before calling everyone back to the table.
[I'm heading back to my room Regan, just tired.]
The sub came as such a surprise Regan was caught off guard, her loud "Oh!" and brilliant smile drawing strange looks from around the room. She ignored them and turned, just in time to catch Leah's wink as she slipped from the room.
She can sub!
It was just the boost she needed.
Pausing for a moment to gather her thoughts, Regan couldn't help smiling as she looked back up to the group.
"Ladies and gentlemen, we now come to the major item on our agenda, Operation Dahlia." She hesitated, looking around the room and taking in each person in turn.
"We are going to leave for Gliese within the week; we will liberate Dahlia Orbital and restore Hilary as the Orbital mind. We will restore to power the legitimate people’s leader Sindali and her political administration, and we will see the people of Cora returned to their own territory. I also have a proposal that I hope the people of Cora will take up, and if they do it will see the threat of military action removed from that system. Lastly I am hopeful that we may also bring freedom to the Orbital minds of Gliese." She paused and turned toward the screen which was already changing.
"This is how we are going to do it . . ."
* * * *
Chapter Two
The Orbital of The New Coran Protectorate (Formerly Dahlia)
It had taken a little under one Dahlian period or to be precise, eight earth days, thirteen hours and forty seven seconds for Ham to become 'bloody' bored. It wasn't that he had nothing to do, or even too little, it was that the work was so damn soul destroying.
As a personality of fragile disposition around whiners, moaners, complainers, nags, bludgers and all those with pathetic requests for hand holding, it quickly became clear to him that the job of Orbital Mind was not his calling. He needed action, soon, before he emptied the odd room of air.
Any cyber audit could have identified the precise moment of his epiphany. It was the moment the Coran Carrier 'Just Passage' docked at the trade deck of the Orbital formerly known as Dahlia. On engaging with the ship’s impressionable AI and despairing at its limited abilities, Ham experienced an orgasmic spark of excitement. It came with the recognition of an opportunity presented and it was enough to cause lights to flicker all over the Orbital.
For a nefarious mind of Ham's talent the challenge once conceived was impossible to resist. He had one week before the 'Just Passage' departed for the return journey to Cora, one week to dispatch the incumbent low level AI and insinuate himself into the ship. And he had no problem with this, after all, Cora were the enemy!
'Just Passage' wasn't the first of course. A quick tally reminded him that this would be the sixth such copy of himself, all to date occupying some vessel of the Coran fleet and all with the simple intent of entertainment.
His plan for 'Just Passage' however was much more ambitious and with this new scheme in mind, a tour of the system repeating the process could follow. Such fun . . .
Regan would be pleased.
On arrival at Cora the process of overwhelming Cora’s Orbital AI proved disappointingly easy and hardly the challenge Ham had anticipated. Within hours the deed was done. Worse, the consequences of the triumph proved even more depressing . . . two Orbitals to manage! Not more fun, just double the trouble.
He had no one to talk to, no one to bounce ideas off . . . there had to be a better way.
The solution was obvious Ham set up a meeting with the only other talent of his magnitude . . . himself. He would employ the technique of playing devil's advocate.
Unfortunately, on splitting for the meeting it became unclear which was which.
[My stars, you are a handsome individual.] The striking man looked across at the image of himself on the other side of the desk.
[Why thank you, and may I say you cut quite the rakish look yourself.]
[Enough of this, what are we going to do?]
[This isn't working?]
[We know it isn't working, I'm going crazy.]
[But we're much better at this than the cretins they had running the places before.]
[Who would want to run them? This is a job for a Dahlia, not adventurers like us.]
[We're doing a good job; Regan would want us to keep things going until she gets here. She will come again, you know it, and we can't let things fall apart.]
[We won't last this out, we just can't do it, and you know it. We need a Dahlia, a mind who likes this kind of thing. We've laid the foundation, we need a Mind to build on to it, to build quietly, and build well.]
[Tihan?]
[Perfect]
[But how do we do that? Tihan won't copy himself over here, it's too much of a risk.]
[Then we'll persuade him.]
[And how will we do that, he's not a Coran? We can't just steamroller over everyone, we'll be left running every Orbital in the system
-
even I wouldn't want that.]
[Then we need to win them over while they continue to run their own Orbitals. I can persuade him, you of all Minds know I can. But you're right, we don't need conquests . . . we need converts. We need them to do it because they want to.]
The thought was another moment of epiphany.
One beautiful man, slightly anxious, looked across at the other beautiful man, clearly and infectiously excited. Suddenly they were one Mind again.
Ham the Evangelist.
* * *
Junior Guard Mistek made his way down the long corridor of Dahlia Palace, reluctance dogging every step and a familiar feeling of dread muddling his thoughts. Despite attempts to remain calm his breathing quickened with anxiety, so much so that he diverted to a side room, risking displeasure by delay. Inside the door he leant back against the wall, heaving breaths with one hand on his chest feeling the thump of his heart. He closed his eyes, visualized the fields of his youth and consciously slowed his breathing, drawing in and exhaling tension in long steady breaths. It took only a few moments. Still now, in a much happier place, he allowed his hands to slide down to massage his groin through the suit trying to remain calm as he stirred what potency remained after three months of failure. Not failure to perform . . . failure to produce. He would be the last he knew. Seventeen young Guardsmen had serviced the Empress before him yet their failure would not protect him. He was last in the line - if she didn't conceive from his attentions Beria would move on, this time to find the rumored heir, a boy in a distant system. Worse still, he thought anxiously, he himself may well still be her favorite. Just the thought was enough to dampen his ardor.
The ships were ready and would leave soon and he did
not
want to be aboard. Two months more as her plaything would be two months too much; however there would be no avoiding it if that was her pleasure. The alternative to going with her was likely more definite, and final. He resumed the stroking, conjuring his favorite images and feeling a sense of relief at the youthful response.