Chapter Delay – With Apologies

Hello faithful readers,

I’ve been under the weather this week, nothing serious but enough to scatter my brains while writing. I went over this week’s chapter last night and found that it really didn’t come together – not all the plot points followed, the dialog wasn’t great, that kind of thing. The next few chapters are pretty important, lots of character development and important lore bits coming, and I want them to be good so that the build to the climax really nails it. So I’m going to delay this chapter and polish it up with a clearer head, and hopefully the story will be better for it. Thanks for understanding,

Nate

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Schrodinger’s Book Chapter Fifteen – The Panopticon

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Aubrey helped Priss pull her shirt back into place, wiggling her shoulders a bit to test the new fit. The spacer woman shook her head and sighed. “That’s better. Your idea of gravity is a killer.”

“Yeah, I think anyone would need a reinforced bra with that kind of chest.” Aubrey tossed a couple of failed attempts at structural engineering back into the clothes recycler. “Is that how you got those? A result of lower gravity?”

“More like genetics. Women on Copernicus run the usual range of sizes.” Priss pulled her shirt on and straightened it, trying to get the folds to lie right. “Actually long term microgravity causes people to lose a lot of mass most of the time. Atrophy and all that. I don’t think it has any effect on human body type beyond that. Just clothes. You should see some of the supports ladies on Newton wear. They practically take half a cup off the way you look.”

“Dex would love that.”

He has a contractual obligation to like guns of all sizes and types.” Priss gave herself a once over in the mirror then scoped up her bag.

Aubrey shrugged. “He seems like…”

“A pervert?” Priss nodded. “He’s one of those fools who thinks a girl goes for honesty above all. Never figured out that most of us like a guy to at least pretend to be a little more than the stereotype. What about Sean?”

“What about him?”

Priss gave her an incredulous look. “I mean, you clearly spend a lot of time around him. You were camping in the wilderness – for values of wilderness –  with him when we met. That looks like…” A look of shocked sympathy crossed her face. “Oh. Oh, that’s harsh.”

Bewildered, Audrey demanded, “What are you talking about?”

“You still have the friend zone on Earth, at least.” Priss shook her head and tsked. “Not my problem.”

“So that’s two new places in one minute.” Audrey sighed. “The friend zone doesn’t sound that interesting. Where’s Newton?”

“Friend zone is boring by all accounts,” Priss muttered, thenshrugged uncomfortably, struggling with what to say for a moment. “It’s the last of the Triad worlds to be settled. Gravity there is five percent above Earth’s and they grow a lot of grain. It’s nice, except for the whole weight thing. I’ve never been, Copernican gravity is about eight percent below Earth so the adjustment is pretty rough. Therapists tell me you need about four months to really make the change. We don’t visit much, since Copernicus can grow most of its own food at this point and the Isaacs don’t have a whole lot of tourist traps to get lost in. The moonies put up with it but they kind of have to.”

There was a lot there that she wanted to dig in to but Aubrey knew better than to push too hard, given the way the martians had clammed up when pushed about where they were from. She tried to keep her questions as innocuous as possible. “What’s a moonie?”

Instead of answering Priss broke eye contact, turned and let herself out of the fitting room. Aubrey followed behind, figuring this was just another stonewalling attempt, but it turned out Priss had just been collecting her thoughts because as they walked towards the door of the clothes factory Priss started again. “I know this is going to sound weird with the environment you’re from. But each of the Triad worlds is fucked in its own way, and we’re not afraid to remind each other of it. Copernicus is stubborn as hell and doesn’t want to be involved with the other two systems if we can help it. Not always healthy but there it is. They call us roundheads, because they think good sense bounces off of us. And because Copernicus – the man – liked perfect circles and used them when he created the heliocentric structure of the solar system.”

“Not familiar with him, but otherwise the description fits.” She thought over the term moonies again but still came up empty. “Don’t tell me one of your worlds is known for dropping their pants and-”

“No.” Priss rolled her eyes and pushed through the door and out into the streets. “Galileo was supposed to be a habitable world but turned out to be a gas giant abnormally close to its star. Close enough that several of the larger moons that orbited it could sustain life with some difficulty. After a lot of debate, rather than split up and go back to Copernicus or on to Newton, the Galilean colony ships chose to try and settle three of the moons.”

“Oh!” Aubrey nodded. “That makes sense, then. You call them moonies because they live on moons.”

“No. We call the moonies because they’re fucking crazy, and people who went crazy from seeing the Moon used to be called moonstruck. I think. There’s logic there somewhere.” Priss shook her head. “There are twenty moons around Galileo and the planet has rings like Saturn on top of that. All the big moons people live on are surrounded by enough debris to shred our biggest orbit ships in seconds and that’s before you try and take all the weird gravity well overlaps that happen as you pass the moons into account. Just getting to Minerva or Ceres is taking your life into your hands a dozen times and Tellus isn’t that much easier to reach. To make matters worse, two of the six colony ships that settled there were damaged on the way in – one crashed – and Ceres won’t be able to sustain agriculture for another thirty years. They’re always short on something and bickering with each other, then coming to Copernicus or Newton for help. They can’t always get it. Every major armed conflict between the Triad worlds has started because of one of the three colonized moons of Galileo and they’ve practically turned raiding and piracy into a cottage industry.”

“So why do you put up with them?”

“For a long time Copernicus didn’t.” Priss grimaced, looking a bit displeased with that fact. “Not the most charitable response but the colonies weren’t as stable back then as we are now. And that’s why Newton couldn’t afford not to stay in touch with the moons. Newton is almost entirely devoid of the rare earths needed for serious electronics work while Minerva and Tellus are practically made of them. So in the early days they traded for crops from Newton a lot.”

“What about the third moon?”

“Ceres?” Her displeasure turned to wry humor. “Not as much in the way of rare earths but plenty of guns. They consider Viking to be a viable career choice there. Ceres pirates have stolen a shocking percentage of cargo going through the Galileo system in the last hundred and fifty years. Eventually Minerva took them on as allies and turned them into a sort of unofficial space navy and that’s when the Triad worlds started fighting honest to goodness wars.”

Aubrey shook her head in amazement. “That sounds so…”

“Stupid?”

“Avoidable.” Aubrey had been watching the patterns of traffic but a rumble in her stomach reminded her that she was hungry. She glanced down at foot traffic – at once harder and easier to track – and turned them in a slightly different direction. “Don’t any of you ever… get tired of it?”

“A whole colony’s worth, actually.” Priss grinned. “Even the most dyed in the wool martians have their sapiens, I guess. The most sanctimonious people in all three systems got together and went a couple of weeks out to a new system and founded a colony named after the most utopian nutjub they could find and sat out the last war. Gene Rodenberry would probably be proud but mostly we’re just annoyed.”

“Hey, him I do know.” She waved her hand through the access point on a food cart and pulled out two burritos, handing one to Priss automatically.

She took the food, looking at the cart skeptically for a moment then following Aubrey away. As they put a little distance between themselves and the cart she asked, “Where was the owner? Is it okay to just walk off with food like that?”

“It’s credited to me,” Aubrey mumbled around a mouth full of warm but not too hot rice and spicy sauce. “And the food carts belong to UNIGOV so there’s no owner to worry about. They’re deployed at the beginning of the day and brought back in during the early evening.”

“No one keeps an eye on them during the day?”

“We’re not moonies,” Aubrey said, a weird thrill running through the pit of her stomach at the thought that she’d just shared a secret with the other woman no one else around them would understand. “We’ve got enough food we don’t have to worry about people stealing it. It’s simpler to automate distribution.”

“I suppose,” Priss said, nibbling on her own burrito. “Kinda surprised no one lobbied to keep the job, though. Lots of people were upset when Copernicus moved from assembling ships the old fashioned way to pure nanofacturing. Shipbuilding jobs dried up after that.”

“There hasn’t been any protest over jobs that I know of for decades. Sean and I work two days a week and frankly that feels like too much some times.”

“Two days…” Priss shook her head and took a larger bite, chewing thoughtfully. Once she swallowed she said, “That does explain some things. With your level of nanotech I guess nanofacturing most material needs comes pretty cheap. But… what do you do with five days off a week? Besides diving for auto parts, I mean.”

Do?” She mulled it over. That wasn’t something she’d ever been overly concerned about. “I mean, I’m in a band, I think Sean helps monitor environmental reclamation programs and sometimes volunteers for extra shifts of at work… what do you mean what do we do? What do you do?”

“I’m a spacer. We keep the colonies moving, and moving safe. We make sure unscrupulous people don’t prey on the people working on terraforming or nanofacturing. And when necessary we fight wars. I mean…” She gestured helplessly with her free hand. “Environmental work and traffic control are fine, I guess, though I don’t know as it wouldn’t work out fine without a whole bunch of people specifically to bean count it. Does any of that really help anyone?”

Aubrey recoiled. “What?”

“No, that’s not what I meant…” Priss shook her head. “It’s just… I know not everyone goes to work because they love what they do. But don’t you feel kind of… I dunno, unanchored?” She nibbled on her burrito again.

Aubrey finished her own morning snack, thinking it over. She was tempted to come back to Theory One, her explanation for all the strangeness of the past few days. Martians were weird.

On the other hand, something about what Priss said gnawed at the back of her mind. She turned to ask the other woman… something, just to keep the train of thought going, only to see her stagger a couple of steps, swaying unsteadily from foot to foot.

Aubrey quickly stepped closer and grabbed her by one arm, trying to keep her upright. “Are you okay?”

“Dizzy…” Priss mumbled, her head starting to sag forward. With an effort she turned to look at Aubrey. “Thanks.”

“Yeah, let’s get you somewhere to sit…”

A look of confusion passed over Priss’s face. “Your eyes are glowing…”

On that total non sequitur Priss slumped down to the ground. Panicking a little Aubrey dropped to her knees and grabbed for her shoulder bag, which she was positive had the martian’s medical device in it. People gathered around, making curious and helpful sounds but Aubrey wasn’t paying a lot of attention.

Until a hand touched her on the shoulder and she glanced up. Two men in UNIGOV uniforms stood there. The one who had tapped her shoulder smiled and said, “Is everything alright?”

The other was in the process of closing a holodisplay which showed Priss laying on the ground, just as she had looked from Aubrey’s own perspective a few seconds ago.

Schrodinger’s Book Chapter Fourteen – The City

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From the very worried looks he got from Priss and Dex as they piled out of the van it was clear to Lang that he looked every bit as tired and haggard as he felt. After locking Aubrey and Sean in the van for nearly two hours and then yelling for most of that time, he’d finally bulldozed the two of them into going with his line of reasoning. More than ever he was convinced that only idiots and psychopaths actually wanted positions of leadership because it was proving to be the most draining thing he’d ever had to do in his life. If the destruction of the Armstrong had somehow created new officer’s positions in the fleet he was going to recommend  his two corporals for them just to get even.

And also hopefully so he wouldn’t be considered for them.

So, after drawing a blood sample from Aubrey, the spacers had piled everything back into the van and driven most of the way up to the city limits, then parked under an overpass and worked their way in on foot. Finally they crossed into the city proper and merged with the crowds, watching their prisoners and the surrounding people warily, Lang uncomfortably fingering the small nanolathe he’d cobbled together using Priss’s notes. He’d ultimately chosen to do all the work himself, and carried both samples on his person, in order to make sure as much of the responsibility as possible rested with him.

If Aubrey and Sam were content to with UNIGOV leaving killswitches in their bloodstream then Lang was not above using them himself if they crossed a line.

The potential ramifications of using such a cold blooded weapon weren’t something he wanted to think about. Unfortunately, entering the city didn’t give a lot of other things to keep his mind occupied.

Earth cities were boring.

After five years of service with the Spacer corps, Lang had managed to visit cities on three different worlds. The low gravity of Minerva lent itself to a wild, almost organic style of architecture that swooped and curved, full of brightly colored hangings and garnished with hydroponic vines. Copernican architecture ran a gamut of styles but all drew inspiration from the classical styles known as the Italian and Spanish schools. The buildings of Rodenberry were very flat, rarely more than two or three stories, and favored large windows, buttresses and colonnades.

Earth buildings were tall, boxy and pushed close together. There had been parts of the empty city they’d landed in that were similar but in this populated city almost as soon as they hit the maintained portions of the sidewalks they were walking in the shadows of towering, eight to ten story monoliths with few to no defining exterior features. It was like walking between giant concrete building blocks. His long distance observations hadn’t done justice to how depressing it was to have all that concrete looming over your head.

There were people everywhere. Even in the most built up portions of Copernicus population density rarely topped a thousand people per square mile. At a guess Lang was willing to bet the density here was ten or fifteen times that. And it felt like none of them were at work.

The streets around them swarmed with people, again far more than it had looked like from a distance. The number of pedestrians picked up rapidly as they worked their way in from the outskirts. At first there were only a handful of people in view at any one time but within five minutes of spotting the first new Terran since the crash they were practically surrounded by a mob of them. It was a bit unnerving. Lang hadn’t seen a crowd like this since basic training and he could tell by the looks Priss and Dex were giving each other they felt the same. He couldn’t help but notice he got left out of the moment of spacer solidarity – in their minds he had definitely moved up the ladder to officer territory at some point. He kept his attention focused out on the crowd and off of his disappointment and picked up on a few things.

The crowd didn’t bother Aubrey and Sean, a sign that they probably dealt with this kind of crush every day. Lang really wanted to ask why no one was at work but didn’t want to ask something so patently ignorant of the situation where it could be overheard. Sounding stupid was fine, but sounding like a martian was unacceptable. And they were already drawing more attention than he was comfortable with.

Clothes had been the obvious give away to worry about so, after some thought, he’d ordered everyone out of their evac suits, figuring it was better to go in shipboard slops that looked somewhat like what Aubrey and Sean wore than show up in clothes chock full of nanofiber armor and vacuum seals. And, while this did make them look superficially like their Terran prisoners, it didn’t do anything to reduce their profile in town because no one they saw on the streets was dressed remotely like the five of them.

The trend on the street was towards long, loose, flowing clothes of very thin, almost see-through fabric with a much briefer layer beneath to maintain a modicum of decency. It wasn’t a very practical style of clothing but then no one in town seemed to be on their way to work so that might have been a factor.  Perhaps their Terrans were just wearing work clothes suited to their little excursion when the spacers found them. They certainly didn’t seem surprised by the local mode of dress.

But they did seem interested in matching it, seeing as how the first place they stopped was a clothes factory. In another reminder of how far advanced Earth nanotech was compared to its colonies someone had figured out how to build synthetic fabrics using nanolathes and who knows what base materials. The “factory” was actually little more than a small section in a long row of businesses where they could get scanned for their dimensions, watch their clothes assembled in a nanovat then take them to a row of changing rooms to try them on. They were strange looking and more than a little embarrassing but change they did, packing their old clothes into the should bags they’d brought along for the food and other supplies they were hoping to gather. Lang didn’t intend for the stop to take more than a few minutes, especially once he realized how quickly they could get clothes and get out. Unfortunately as they were preparing to leave Priss stopped them, wanting to stay a little longer and pick up a few other things. Aubrey volunteered to stay and authorize any acquisitions. As Lang prepared to get comfortable with another ten minutes stay Priss added, mostly through tone and meaningful looks, that this was a stop for feminine needs.

And so, in spite of his own misgivings about leaving the two of them alone together, with Aubrey’s failsafe still in his possession, Lang found himself outside the factory with the other two men, looking for a grocery store. He was reasonably confident Priss would be fine. She had a plasma pistol that could blow through the walls of most of the buildings he’d seen on planet and the will to use it. He couldn’t say the same for anyone he’d met since coming to Earth. After ten minutes of walking he was more worried about whether they could get the food back to the van without a robocrate than he was about Priss’ safety.

“Hey, Sean,” Dex said, mopping at his forehead with the flimsy sleeve of his new shirt. “How do you know where we’re going? I thought you hadn’t been to this place before.”

“I work with traffic,” he answered with a smirk. “It’s just a matter of knowing what to look for. Otherwise we’d have to hit an info display, like that.”

Sean was pointing to one of the few things that Lang had seen which immediately made sense on earth, a simple holodisplay with a scattering of public information available. Lang looked over at Dex and said, “Wait here for a second, would you?”

He headed over to the display and tried to access it. At first the interface seemed stubbornly resistant to his actions but, remembering what Sean had said about the medinano being his form of ID, he fished out the nanolathe with the sample they’d gotten from Sean back at the library and held it in his hand as he tried to use the display. That seemed to be enough for whatever method UNIGOV used to detect their citizens nanotech, he now had one hand he could use the display with. A little fiddling later he was able to figure out the menu – quite intuitive – and pull up a map of the city, confirming they could find a grocery in the general direction they were heading.

He copied that into his AI as surreptitiously as he was able then scanned for anything like a local news feed. No such luck there, the information station wasn’t regularly updated, which surprised him. It did list places to find lodgings, places to seek employment and a bunch of demographic information like city population that didn’t seem terribly useful. After another few minutes of fiddling he abandoned the display and headed back to the other two, tucking Sean’s blood sample back into his pocket.

“Anything interesting?” Dex asked as he got close.

“Not much. A map and a name for the city.”

“And where are we?”

“Pheonix, Arizona,” Sean said, watching the exchange with bemusement. “You’re awful proud of how much shit you supposedly know about Earth but you didn’t know that?”

“Geography of planets I wasn’t expecting to visit wasn’t a mandatory course.” Although a small voice in the back of his mind pointed out it was strange that they’d never covered Earth geography in mission briefings, even as they closed on the planet. They’d covered basics like that even on his visit to Rodenberry, and that planet was founded by antiwar radicals. Why not Earth? Did they really know so little about it?

“That doesn’t make any sense at all,” Dex said with a frown. “We didn’t pass any smaller towns or settlements on our way here. I know there’s more than one major city in Arizona and Texas.”

“We did go around one place late last night,” Lang said.

“Everyone else has been resettled,” Sean added.

He said it so matter of factly that it took a moment for Lang to process. “Resettled why?”

Sean shook his head. “Again, ignorant of the strangest things. Environmental collapse was a concern before homo martians went extinct – at least on this planet – and once UNIGOV was established they took definitive steps to scale back sapiens contributions to the problem. Most smaller population centers were merged with the largest nearby city and the structures were disassembled. Larger population centers were evacuated, but no one was sure what the consequences of just picking up that large a chunk of terrain with nothing to replace it, so the buildings were left behind.”

And with that bit of information a lot more of the last three days made sense.

Not that any of it was helpful in their immediate circumstances. It was time to stop acting like stupid, gawking tourists who didn’t know local history and try to blend again. “Fascinating stuff. Let’s talk about groceries, shall we? Dex, you and I need to split up and grab this stuff as fast as possible…”

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Schrodinger’s Book Chapter Thirteen – The Outer Limits

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“They have flying cars.” Dex sounded a bit miffed. “Flying cars but no Unified Field Theory? Where do they get the antigrav from? Or is it all maglev?”

“They can’t have independent grav fields, they’re moving too close to the buildings,” Lang said. “My money is on maglev. That or microthrusters, given the comparative refinement of their nanotech they might have perfected smaller engines than we’ve got.”

“They’re actually not flying, they’re driving on hardlight constructs,” Sean said. All three spacers turned to stare at him incredulously. He rolled his eyes. “I’m kidding, there’s no fucking way to sustain that kind of energy output. It’s microthrusters and extremely low weight plastics.”

Lang snorted and went back to watching the hive of activity in the distance. Even through the basic telescopic sights they had available it was easy to pick out the cars moving up, down and in every direction with eerie, almost insectoid choreography. He’d discounted the idea of a traffic control AI before. Now he saw why Aubrey and Sean had jobs.

“We’re going to have to go around. Or figure out some way to blend with traffic,” Priss said. “If we try and go through they’re going to pick us out in a heartbeat.”

“Get the AIs working on it. Network them if you have to.”

Priss and Dex shared a look, then Dex leaned in close and dropped his tone. “Listen, I know we probably shouldn’t discuss this in depth with the prisoners in the van but… we’ve only got two liters of electrolytes left in supply. We can cut some of the supplemental dietary sources off from the Terrans but then we’ll need to procure a new food supply for them and… well, we’d probably have to do that in the next day or so anyhow. They eat a lot.”

“Your point is we’re starting to tap out on the AIs.”

“We’ve worked them very hard the past few days,” Priss pointed out. Nodding out the window toward the city she added, “We might be able to pick up some supplies in there. Just a suggestion, but if it takes us more than forty eight hours longer to get off planet we’re looking at serious food shortages. And I don’t know what that means when crossed with the Terran nanotech. It could wind up shutting down. We know the consequences of that.”

They would die. And that would be on him, because he’d declared them prisoners of war.

“Okay. See if you can network the AIs and have them run some kind of probabilistic analysis. I’ll go forward a bit, see if I can get a better feel for what it’s like on the fringes of that city. Dex will help you keep an eye on the prisoners.” He gave her a meaningful look. “And, even though this is technically what they do, don’t let them help you, okay? For the sake of information security if nothing else.”

Priss sighed. “Alright, boss. Because you asked nicely.”


Aubrey and Priss sat with their legs dangling off the back of the van. Priss was tinkering with the AIs, Aubrey was watching. It was interesting to watch someone try and recreate the software she worked with day in and day out without any idea what the basic structure was. With the right training, the other woman probably could have done Aubrey’s job, although not with the equipment she was using. It wasn’t clear what trick let the spacer AI work so much more efficiently than what was typical on Earth but it still lacked the sensor inputs to properly formulate the situation in the streets. She figured Priss had come to the same conclusion about the time she threw her hands up in the air, clearing her holodisplay.

“Trouble?” Aubrey asked.

“Lang’s expectations are too high,” Priss muttered. “I think he knows that. But he’s a pilot – he likes to know he can go places, even if he doesn’t ever plan on actually going there. So here I am, trying to plot a course with hardware that was never meant for it.”

Which brought up something Aubrey had been wondering about. “Why do you need electrolytes for your AI to work?”

Priss started a bit. “Heard that, did you?”

“I’m just curious, because it sounded like you could make better models than what you’re doing if you had more of it.” She pointed at the space Priss’ holodisplay had been a second ago. “And as a professional, let me tell you what you’ve got there isn’t going to cut it.”

“Thanks,” Priss replied dryly. “But you’ve probably already realized it’s a data problem, not a processing problem. I can’t think of a way to balance the necessities of probabilities and anticipate traffic flow without a satellite network or something.”

Which was exactly what Aubrey had concluded. But there was one weird thing she’d said. “Both you and Lang mentioned probabilities. Why? That’s practically all AI does, right? Balance probabilities based on algorithms?”

Priss rested her feet on the van’s bumper, pulled her knees up and folded her arms over them, then laid her head down on them, looking at her sideways. The effect was avian and unsettling. “What do you know about the limitations of AI?”

“Well, I don’t know the math of it,” Aubrey said. “But as I understand it there’s something to do with the statistical modeling of reality and precision of data input.”

“Close enough. Basically, in spacer school, the AI primer points to two problems, known as the Framing Problem and the Cause and Effect Problem.” Priss pointed to the side of the vehicle. “For example, what is that?”

Aubrey followed the line of her hand and frowned. “The door of the van?”

“How long did it take you to decide that’s what I meant?”

“I’m sorry?”

“I could have been asking about any number of things.” Priss straightened up a bit and ticked them on her fingers. “The handle of the door. The door latch. The metal the door is made of. The color of the door. But you immediately framed the question and provided an answer. An AI can’t do that on its own. It either needs every possible contingency accounted for by the programmer or a way to get feedback from its user to frame the problem.”

“So it can understand what it sees.”

Priss nodded. “That’s your precision of data input. Second example.” She stuck a foot out and pushed the door with her foot, swinging it back and forth. “Why did the door move?”

For a split second Aubrey felt the unnaturally still, narrow eyed expression she always saw on Lang when he thought no one was look settle on her face. It was unsettling and she shook it off, trying to decide how to answer.

“It’s not a trick question,” Priss said, amused.

“You pushed it with your foot.”

“That’s something an AI can’t conclude. They see the world as probabilities. As my foot gets closer to the door,” she stretched her foot out towards said door again, “an AI’s models predict that the door moving becomes more and more likely but they fundamentally can’t conclude that the door moves because of my foot. The mathematical language for that doesn’t exist, at least not yet.”

“Okay, I get it. I think.” She poked the door herself and considered. “How does that tie to electrolytes?”

“Because our AIs have a workaround to the problem. They can be tied to an end user and use subliminal messaging to frame problems and determine causes using the human subconscious. In short, they’re really hybrids of AI and the human mind.” She held up the small box Aubrey had always assumed was a holodisplay tied in to a master AI in one of their crates. “By tying this into my brain I make the AI three thousand times more efficient and able to tackle communications and analytical problems it couldn’t handle otherwise. The catch is, it requires a lot of extra nerve activity supported by some electrolytes not found in the typical human diet. Some of our food and drink stores make sure those levels stay high.”

“What happens if they run low?”

“Then the AI’s attempts at messaging our subconscious won’t work.”

Aubrey shook her head and laughed. “I can’t believe you guys think medical nanotech is weird but you’re okay with plugging a computer into your brain. What if it shorts out?”

“We worked all the biofeedback issues out a long time ago,” Priss said, opening her holodisplay back up and going back to work.

Aubrey sighed and looked around, figuring it was time to compare notes with Sean again. But neither he nor Dex were anywhere to be found.


Through the carbine scope the outskirts of the city appeared more drab than Lang had been expecting. There wasn’t much plant life, the buildings were low compared to the busier central districts and there wasn’t much in the way of vehicle traffic. There were more people on self-propelled transport or on foot than he’d expected. Most of all, a surprising number of people were not at some place of work. Maybe it was a weekend or holiday. Supposedly the colonial calendar used by the Triad worlds was the same as the Earth calendar but, after two hundred years, who could tell. They might not even be using twelve month years anymore.

The oddest thing was how much plant life there was in a ring around the city. They were in the middle of the desert and he wasn’t a terraformer but the ring of hearty scrub brush and twiggy shrubs around the outskirts didn’t seem quite right. Perhaps the Terrans had been busy with a little planetary remodeling of their own.

“It wouldn’t be that weird if you just walked up.”

With a sigh, Lang lowered the scope and found Sean standing a few steps away. Just beyond him was Dex, looking bemused. “What can I do for you, Mr. Wilson?”

“I know you need to go into town soon,” Sean said. “I want to come with you.”

“What possible reason could you give that would make that a wise move for us?” Lang shook his head. “In case you’ve forgotten our previous conversation-”

“You need a fucking ID linked to a fucking account to buy or sell anything, asshole.” Sean folded his arms. “How are you going to get supplies without any of that shit?”

Lang and  Dex exchanged quick glances that confirmed what he was thinking. “Sean, when Dex searched you we didn’t find any ID.”

Sean rolled his eyes. “Because it’s integrated with the medinano systems. Why bother with something I could lose?”

Of course it was. Nothing could ever be easy. Dex’s expression told him he hadn’t known this ahead of time. And Sean wasn’t saying why he wanted to go into town with them. His sanctimonious sapiens ass was learning. “We’ll consider it.”

And he would. But mostly he was going to be considering how to keep tabs on Sean while in a strange city, dealing with identifications and accounts and information infrastructures they still knew very little about.

Go On to Next Chapter

Schrodinger’s Book Chapter Twelve – The Sanitizer

Go Back to Chapter Eleven

Aubrey was laughing and she couldn’t help it. “Don’t be absurd, Priss. There’s no such thing as martians outside of the hominid group. And they’re from here on Earth. Mars has never been colonized.”

“Of course it has.” Priss shook her head. “With no history books it’s no surprise you don’t remember it. It was probably deleted from your datahubs but the Borealis Colony was established two decades before the Departure as a trial run for most of the technology and techniques intended for use during the Triad Colonization efforts.”

“And what?” Aubrey was starting to piece together where this was going. “Earth’s martians fought a war with them over… space? Food? Manufacturing? Is any of that even relevant over the interplanetary scale?”

“You might be surprised,” Priss said. “And it would have had to be Earth as a whole, no region isn’t exposed to the threat at some point during the planet’s rotation. If you think one part of the population just sat around, uninvolved… well, you don’t know much about war. The main point is, that fits all the data points we have.”

“Like what?” She spotted Sean coming around the side of the tarp, his expression looking very troubled. But for the moment he just stopped and leaned against the side of the vehicle, listening quietly.

“Like how the Armstrong got fragged. It’s standard procedure to drop subluminal outside a star system, pick up the exact locations of planets and then move in along a standard approach vector at superluminal until within two hundred thousand kilometers of the intended destination. The standard approach to Earth was along the Earth/Mars Superluminal Corridor. If Earth and Mars went to war that would be the most logical vector to guard first. If we ran into guard satellites there it could very easily explain what happened to us.”

Sean started to speak but Aubrey snapped, “Not now, Sean.” Priss jumped a little, following her line of sight to see him standing off to one side and looking more than a little surprised. “You were really dismissive of the drone you blew up today. How come your fancy space ship got blown up by satellites of the same age?”

“For starters, weapons scale up really well but passive defenses struggle to keep up.” Dex materialized from the darkness, looking amused at the conversation. “Active defenses require several seconds to bring online after a ship leaves superluminal. If we got painted by kill satellites, even very old ones, as soon as we dropped to subluminal then even a state of the art orbit ship could get fragged in just a few seconds. And that’s assuming we didn’t physically collide with one of them. From some of the chatter I heard on the way to the drop pods I’m guessing that’s what happened.” He glanced at Priss. “Did you share this with Lang?”

She snorted. “Long story. Anyway, satellites along the approach path would also prevent any of the messenger drones the colonies sent back with reports from reaching the planet. So a guarded Superluminal Corridor would explain the long silence from Earth as well. They never answered messages because they got blown up before reaching the planet.”

“Except for the little problem where there is no colony on Mars,” Aubrey pointed out.

Priss pinched the bridge of her nose with a sigh. “Aubrey, if your history books-”

“You keep going on about that,” she replied in exasperation. “Have you ever thought you might be projecting some?” Dex and Priss exchanged a glance, and Aubrey had gotten used enough to this weird silent communication of theirs to guess they were trying to figure out what she meant, so she just told them. “Like, have you ever stopped to wonder if there was a Martian colony?”

Dex laughed. “Of course there was.”

“How do you know?” Aubrey asked. “You’re always doubting what I tell you history was. What about what you say history is? History is pretty subjective anyway.”

“If there was a colony on Mars there was a colony on Mars,” Priss pointed out.

“So you’ve been there? You’ve seen it?” Aubrey laughed. “Everything you said about history being changed could easily have been done by your leaders. You needed to justify your choice to colonialize other planets as part of a warped need to spread your culture beyond its sustainable boundaries so you spun a story about other colonies on other planets to make it seem like a natural thing.”

“Fair enough of a point,” Dex said, “but the existence of physical copies of history makes changing it much harder. You’ll always miss copies of the old history in you clean up – anyone who’s tried to issue upgrades to an equipment pool can testify to that.”

“Even on those colony ships you rode on?” Aubrey asked. “I’m an expert on transportation, Dex. I know how hard it is to design a vehicle with a lot of luxury systems. There can’t have been much room for private books onboard, all they would have had to do is load the new history books and the switch is complete.”

“What about all the people that knew differently?” Priss asked. “They can’t all have been in on it.”

“I don’t know,” Aubrey said in exasperation. “This scheming and tricking schtick is your forte, you tell me how they might have dealt with them. I’m just saying you seem to expect a lot more of me than you do of yourself in this little theory you’ve put together.”

A throat cleared noisily in the darkness and they all turned to find Lang staring balefully at them. “I don’t know what you guys were arguing about and I don’t care. It’s time for you to hit the hay.  If we get an early start we should reach our destination by early evening, enough time to look around and get back out into the desert by nightfall and pull together a plan. I’m going to hit the sanitizer and then pass out for a bit. I want you horizontal by the time I’m done.”

He pushed past them and ducked under the tarp, leaving the other four to stare uncomfortably at each other for a few moments before they went their own ways.


Lang stepped out of the van ten minutes later feeling much less grimy. It was easy to forget how badly an evac suit could smell when you stripped out of it after a few days of hard use, especially after a long time in space, and he couldn’t blame Priss for wanting to spend a little time in ship slops before strapping it back on. He’d chosen to pick his battles there rather than insist on the evac suit. It did have actual armor and thus offered some protection in combat, but it wasn’t intended for their current situation and he didn’t see anything to gain by insisting she wear it.

He did put his own back on as soon as the suit scrubber was done with it.

To his surprise he found Aubrey sitting at the back of the van when he got out. She had pushed the tarp up to make a small tunnel so she could stare out at the stars while she waited. He hesitated a second, not sure what to say. The stereotype of pilots as smooth talkers definitely didn’t apply to him.

Fortunately, she took away the need for him to come up with something.

“You look like shit.”

“Yes. The truth is, when you scrub away the dirt, spacers are a pretty unimpressive form of life.” He smiled wearily. “Wait till we get a look at what you look like under all that grime. I’m sure it’s equally impressive.”

“I’m serious, Lang.” She got up and looked him in the eye. “Priss was telling me earlier about the stupid fucking logs you have to keep, and how much trouble they can get you in. Why do you even bother with it? The stress is eating you up.”

“It’s not the logs that stress me out. I’m pretty sure those will reflect pretty well on me. It’s worrying about Priss and Dex. I’m not cut out to be making decisions for other people, much less trying to balance the long term good of a unit against immediate concerns. That’s why I never did OTC.” He could see she didn’t know what officer’s training camp was so he hurried past it. “Recording the logs actually helps me get my thoughts in order, clears my head so I can get over the bad calls made and be ready to make better ones in the future. I’d take writing logs all day, no matter what it meant for my career, over having to worry about their lives all the time. It’s not like having to look after kids or anything, but it’s still stressful as hell.”

She raised an eyebrow. “I never saw you as the nurturing type.”

“I’m not,” he said with a laugh. “But my older brother has kids and that comes with responsibilities.”

The eyebrow dropped back into place. “Oh.”

There was more to that ‘oh’. “Oh, what?”

She looked down and away. “UNIGOV places all children over one year old in guided care facilities to ensure their health and wellbeing.”

“Of course they do.” He sighed. “You know, sometimes I envy the kind of life you’ve lived here on Earth. Then you say things like that.”

Her head snapped back up, murder in her eyes. “The fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“It means hit the showers, Aubrey. And wash your mouth out while you’re there, that kind of language is unbecoming of someone who’s had every medical and educational need catered to from birth.” He shook his head and trudged back out under the stars. The desert was remarkably cold now that the sun was down, something that had surprised him, although not Priss who could quote chapter and verse on every climate in human experience. Still, their sleeping gear could accommodate pretty much any weather with a few adjustments and he got it reset to the local temperature in a few seconds then crawled into the sleeping bag and set the perimeter scanners. He was about to doze off until his shift on watch came up when Priss said, “Have you noticed that they’ve increased the rate they use profanity with us? They’re starting to build up mental barriers between us and them.”

He groaned, not wanting to get caught in another of her long communicative theories. “Go to sleep, Priss. We’ve got a long drive tomorrow.”

She went to sleep, but perhaps she shouldn’t have bothered. They stumbled on the city by ten hundred hours the next morning.