Randolph Lalonde - Spinward Fringe Broadcast 08 - Renegades (30 page)

“Sometimes I wonder,
with you spending most of your time on the Fallen Star with your
Issyrian family.”

“I am always looking
to our intention, the salvation of humanity, even when I am with
them,” Clark replied.

That quieted Eve, who
looked away again as she started down the hallway. Her hand fidgeted
with the gold and red sleeve of her dress. He kept pace with her and
several Servators fell in step behind as they walked down the
polished metal hallway. “I have to appear on Olsow next. My ship is
scheduled to leave soon,” she said, breaking a silence that
stretched the length of the corridor. “You are staying in Complex
Three?”

“Yes, I have reports
to review, and I have to oversee the installation of these new
commanders,” Clark replied. There was something new radiating from
his companion that he couldn’t identify. The fear was still
present, but to a lesser degree.

“I’ll make sure I
contact you regularly, but I want you to try to remember that you
were once human while I’m away,” Eve said. “You’re learning
to hate us, I’ve been watching it happen gradually. Every time I
visit, you have less patience.”

Her conclusion was
startling, and worse, he knew it was true. “I wouldn’t try to
save humanity if I hated them, or forgot where I came from.”

“I don’t think,
being what you are, you have a choice. I’m only asking that you
spend a few weeks away from the Issyrian habitat, get used to
conversations for a while. I know it’s a slow way to communicate
compared to what it’s like with them, but you need to remember what
you’re saving.”

“I will not abandon
my House,” Clark said. “But I will spend more time with humans.”

“Good,” Eve said.
“I keep expecting you to take the Fallen Star and disappear
somewhere into uncharted space. You’re right, neither of us can do
this alone, and we both know what will happen if the Order unravels.”

“I will not abandon
the cause,” Clark reassured her. They stopped in front of a private
room that a Servitor opened and checked. “I have reports to
review.”

“I have a ship to get
to,” Eve said. “I’ll be in touch soon.”

He entered the room and
made sure there were no active surveillance devices operating inside
before accessing and decrypting the new reports.

The images of a few
humans in navy blue British Alliance uniforms appeared, and Clark
opened the first message. “The main focus on my report,” the
woman said rapidly. Her face and voice were disguised; Clark was left
watching a blurred hologram he could only coin as ‘the woman,’
“is a copy of collected intelligence from whom we in the
Intelligence community have come to call the Freeground Four, Terry
Ozark McPatterson, Ayan, Minh-Chu, and Remmy Sands. This extended
report was sold to my government by Jacob Valent and it details all
the major events surrounding the former Freeground residents since
their first departure from that station. At first that may not seem
important, but after reviewing the data, I have concluded that
Freeground residents, including Lucius Wheeler, have touched a
staggering number of people and places involved in the course
humanity has taken over the last decade. What makes this even more
potent is the way they have woven the tale into a timeline that
confirms all the details from more than one perspective. They even
have all the details on the new leader active in the Order. They say
you’re a former Freeground resident that was saved by framework
technology. They have the details about you; the evidence was
provided by Remmy Sands and a captured man named Kipley. It does my
head in, but they even have the true motivation behind the Order,
with such detail that it rivals the briefing you provided to the
inner circle before I returned to service here.”

Clark pounded the wall
in irritation. He enjoyed a unique position in the Order of Eden, a
secret post that hid him from most of the followers and their
enemies. “There is no information on General Vorhol or the upper
management of Regent Galactic at least, but the Order’s secrets
could be exposed, and soon. I urge you to review the copy I’ve sent
you. I hope this advances my progress on the path to eternity with
the Order.”

Without a moment’s
pause, Clark moved on to a report from another one of his British
Alliance spies. “I don’t have much time, so I’ll be brief. Your
predictions were correct. Even from my unimportant post, I can see
that the Haven Shore Council has collapsed, and that it is likely
that the colonists will be in conflict with the Carthans soon. I
would say your concerns about Ayan and her people will end soon. I’m
going to use the evidence you fabricated for me to make it seem like
there is a Haven Shore plot to hijack Carthan ships and kill the
Fleet Warden. That should motivate the Carthans to investigate Haven
Shore and their leadership, keeping their most important people busy
for a few months. Thank you for this opportunity to serve, I look
forward to joining you soon.”

The blurry image of the
male British Alliance Officer disappeared and Clark took a moment to
stand in the silent, dark lounge. Having to keep Haven Shore and the
people he once idolized from Freeground off-balance was something he
didn’t like. More than anything, he’d like to see Ayan, Jacob,
Oz, Minh-Chu, and their friends settle down in that colony, and drop
out of the war. They were building and progressing in the other
direction instead. “Enter the new data into the predictive system
and extrapolate,” he ordered.

A holographic image of
a timeline stretching three years into the future appeared around
him, and he watched the branches change as the computer accounted for
the information in the reports. A red border appeared around an image
of Ayan and several of the officers directly under her command along
with a number: twenty nine percent. It rose to sixty-one percent
before his eyes, declaring a surprising chance that she would be
killed in the next week. “How?” he asked.

“If the Carthans have
convincing evidence that their leadership is in danger, they will
most likely launch a pre-emptive counter offensive, targeting Haven
Shore’s leadership. This was previously predicted, but less likely
thanks to mitigating factors surrounding them and the expected return
of the Warlord. The Warlord and its crew have recently departed,
reducing mitigation.”

“That’s enough, I
understand,” Clark said, knowing the computer would go on for
another hour with factors and likelihoods if he let it. He stared at
the images around him for another moment, his gaze eventually resting
on the Triton. Its hull bore the scars of a major battle, and it was
shown taking on shuttles loaded with survivors. At the end of the
predictive cycle, the great ship departed the Rega Gain system. A
video of Haven Shore’s jungles burning played behind it. “Nothing
lasts forever,” Clark said to himself, remembering the horrors he
saw at another colony he saved nearly a year before.

“Haven Shore and the
Everin Building are not likely to be successful,” the system told
him in a passive female voice.

“Sometimes I wish you
were wrong more often,” Clark said, signalling for the computer to
lock his account and shut down.

Course Correction

“How long will I have
to hide from these people?” Lewis asked Ayan as she managed Clever
Dream’s operations console. Lieutenant William Garrison was at the
pilot controls, as usual.

“I don’t know,
Lewis,” Ayan replied as she watched the third group of new recruits
load from where she kept an eye on the security and tactical
displays. “People still shy away from bots, and I think that’s
getting better, but we don’t want to spook them with a fully
fledged artificial intelligence.”

“I’m getting tired
of this infantile game of hide-and-function. People have to learn to
trust artificial intelligences again. My calculations indicate that,
without the assistance of billions of artificial intelligences,
humanity will take an additional one hundred and thirty-five years to
match its former glory. Even I’m underutilized. In the last six
months and three weeks, I’ve been a bunk house, a scout ship, and a
taxi.”

“Just be glad we’ve
been able to keep you hidden so you’re not surrounded by protestors
every time you land. Most people don’t understand that the new
artificial intelligences are immune to viruses, and they’ll do
anything to have you deleted,” Ayan replied. The ship’s hold was
almost filled to capacity with new Triton crew again. “Triton
Control,” Ayan addressed through the communicator. “Have you put
a cap on intake yet? The Clever Dream is still loading and
delivering.”

“The Admiral has set
the cap at sixteen hundred, Commander,” replied Junior Lieutenant
Seeves, one of the new bridge officers. She had a light lilt to her
speech that made her easy to distinguish. “He’s approved your
request to have at least two hundred parents with children brought
aboard and situated, and increased that to three hundred. At this
rate, we’ll hit that in an hour and a half.”

“We can only take in
what we can manage,” Ayan replied. “Thank you, Lieutenant.” Her
eye caught sight of her former second, Lacey, pushing through the
line of new recruits towards the corridors. Ayan looked to Lieutenant
Garrison, who must have noticed her alarmed expression. “Can you
take care of the rest of this load, Will?”

“No problem, good
luck,” he replied.

“When are we going to
finish talking about my underutilization?” Lewis asked.

“I’m pretty sure
you’ll find yourself in combat rotation before you know it,” Ayan
replied. “Until then, you’ll have a lot to observe and learn
from.” She came nose to nose with Lacey in the hall. Lacey looked
deeply irritated, but held her tongue until they were behind a closed
hatch in the captain’s quarters. Ayan hadn’t seen the space for
months, which was a relief, considering the memories she left there.

“I sleep in and, not
only do I miss a recruiting drive, but I get the news that you’ve
turned aside the nomination for Military Liaison from Crewcast. Am I
unemployed?” Lacey asked. “Should I apply as a fruit picker?
Maybe a quartermaster?”

“I know you’ll be
nominated for a seat on the Council, and if that’s not something
you want, you could assist my father, he’s taking my seat.”

“Does he know yet?
Because this is the first I’ve heard,” Lacey said, looking even
less pleased.

“Mischa’s taking
care of it. He’s made for it, and he’s already in place at the
head of the Rangers.”

“Did you consider
that I might not want to stay behind?” Lacey asked.

Ayan was caught
completely by off guard. “I honestly thought you were on a career
track with the Council.”

“You chose me as your
second because I’ve dealt with military and civilian negotiations
before, sorted the business of a Great House in the core worlds, and
have enough of an education in structural engineering to basically
understand what you’re doing from day to day. Sure the degree is
twenty years old, but it’s enough so I’m not useless, or that’s
what I thought. What was it you said after I was working for you for
two months? ‘I don’t know what I’d do without you.’ Cliché,
but that means something to people, and it pisses them off even more
when you do an about-face and shake them off.”

“I really thought you
were my second so you could take a seat on the Council eventually, or
get into a more important career.”

“We’re friends,
right?” Lacey asked, only looking more frustrated.

“Yes,” Ayan
replied. “Yes, of course.”

“Okay, then I’m
going to be as clear as I can: I’ve done and seen more in the
months since I started playing secretary and stand-in for you than I
had in the forty two years that came before. Now you’re going off
to the Triton to do who-knows-what. Believe it or not, watching you
deal with the Council and all this business with Liam has been just
as frustrating for me as it was for you. If you’re going to escape
all that, then there’s no way you’re going to leave me behind,
chicky.”

Taken aback, Ayan felt
the only thing she could say was, “okay.”

“Okay?” Lacey
confirmed.

“Yes, you’re
welcome to come with.”

“As your second, or
whatever the position is called on that ship, or this ship, or
wherever?”

“Absolutely,” Ayan
confirmed.

“Good.”

“This isn’t going
to be simple, though,” Ayan said. “We’re stealing from Haven
Shore and setting up a brand new operation.”

“So they’re not
exaggerating?” Lacey asked, wide-eyed. “In the space of eight
hours you’ve turned away from Haven Shore, taken a few hundred
trained people with you, and started establishing somewhere else?
What’s going on with you, Ayan?”

“That scare from
Frost, and the decline I’ve seen here made me take a good look at
what I’m doing. Building a cloistered society on some island isn’t
going to serve the long term good. Connecting the Triton and the
Warlord to the people in Port Rush is probably the hardest way to
start improving things, but it’s also the best way. For the next
few months, I’m going to be leading a recruitment and training
team.”

“Are they all going
to train on the Triton?” Lacey asked. “Because there’s no way
they’ll let you train or even move anyone to Haven Shore. People
are livid, they feel betrayed.”

“That’s their
problem. I’m still listed as the property holder and founder; it’s
time to act like it. I see a way to improve everyone’s lives in a
hurry, and I think I can get the Warlord on board – especially if I
lend them the Clever Dream.”

“Excellent!” Lewis’
voice chimed in through the cabin’s sound system.

“I thought you’d
like that,” Ayan said. “Not right away, though I’ll make sure
you know when that’s about to happen. Oh, and privacy mode,
please.”