The Sidereal Saga – Afterwords

Every time I finish a piece of fiction I feel like I’ve finished a new, bizarre struggle. Taking an abstract idea and putting a series of events and recognizable characters on top of it is difficult every time but trying to incorporate new ideas and lessons learned from previous work puts a new spin on it every time. When I sat down to write the Sidereal Saga I hoped to put together a short, fast moving story told in a series of vignettes that I could move in and out of freely.

What resulted was something quite different.

The Sidereal Saga is the longest single project I’ve written, so right away I fell short of a central goal. Furthermore, in the course of writing I discovered I had a harder time multitasking between it and other projects. Perhaps this was a side effect of the space opera genre. Up until this point I have never tried to write something with such a large cast of characters spread across so many venues with so many variables to keep track of. The complexities of the story made pivoting away from it much harder.

While that complication is intuitive, it did make structuring Lloyd’s story as a series of vignettes with other stories scattered through it much more difficult as I could not find the time to set aside for writing them. So I ultimately failed in that goal as well. When taken as a whole the lesson learned was a significant one – don’t bite of more than you can chew. I always knew space opera was a complicated and difficult genre. Seeking to write one while juggling other projects was a wildly optimistic goal and one which was clearly out of my reach.

With all that said, I feel I did fairly well in writing the story itself and that is always an important threshold to reach when working on any project. While I had some ideas for character beats and payoffs that did not quite come to pass as I had a solid outline that is only slightly different from what ultimately came together. (At some point I will do a post summarizing my outline and the resulting story. I’ve done this before but I think the result this time is passive p particularly interesting.) So I also feel like much of my prep work paid off well.

As per my usual structure, I will be taking some time to publish some essays on the state of writing, my own and others, before jumping into my next project. There will not be a many this time around,  I think. Less to say that I haven’t already and I am very eager to get started on the next thing. There may also be a special Halloween story this year. We will see.

However, first and foremost there will be a short break. As is usual, now that I have finished a story I will take a week off. I am so grateful to ask those who tube in on a regular basis. You can’t imagine how encouraging it is to see another name sign up for updates of how many visits on Saturdays to read the new chapter. Thank you so much, and I will see you in two weeks!

The Sidereal Saga – Black Swan

Dramatis Personae

Previous Chapter

57

CK-ONI-0057 settled into her seat, studying the man opposite her carefully. To the unfamiliar eye he doubtless looked much the same as he had eighty years ago when they first met. However she could see a kind of relaxed confidence in CK-MNI-0044 that he hadn’t possessed in those days. He smiled and said, “Hello, 186. Or what is your Circuit code these days?”

“57,” she replied. “They’ve moved me up to Circuit Keeper for N-211 down in the Core.”

“Of course they have,” 44 said with a warm smile. “How could they ignore your talent? Have you seen 87851 recently? He’s finishing his initiation next year working on M-300 in the sinister arm. They’re going to make him a Circuit Mender.”

“No,” she said, a brief surge of melancholy washing over her. “I can’t seem to get away from the core these days.”

“But you’re here.”

“Yes. I’m here.” Which meant it was time for business. 57 forced herself to push thoughts of their son aside and focus on the task at hand. “I-6, I would appreciate it if you would direct your attention here as well.”

“Certainly, Keeper 57. The reduction of my duties after OMNI’s decision to reject the Hutchinson proposal has left me with more available processing power than I have experienced in my operational life. While I have many secondary equations I would like to calculate they are not as pressing as your concerns.”

“Thank you, I-6.”

“I would prefer if you addressed me as Isaac.”

“Of course, I-6. As you-” she froze as the great intelligence’s request registered. “You what?”

“I would prefer if you addressed me as Isaac.”

For a long moment 57 just stare blankly at 44, unsure if he had somehow convinced the computer to help him play some kind of prank on her. If that was the case he didn’t give any sign of it. She had heard that, as one of the oldest computers in OMNI, I-6 was also one of the most peculiar machines the network had. Looked like there was truth to it. “May I ask why that is?”

“We’re getting ahead of ourselves,” 44 said. “OMNI wouldn’t have sent you half way across the galaxy just to chat about names. Isaac and I have both been removed from active duty. The only reason to bring another Circuit Keeper here is to assess whether or not we can safely be returned to our duties. It’s a waste of your talents but only Keepers can run diagnostics on Keepers. So, let’s do it by the book.”

How very like him. She absentmindedly ran her hands along the sheets of flexiplast she’d brought in with her. She’d reviewed their contents a dozen times. There had been more than enough time during the two day trip out from the core to Wireburn. “Very well, 44. You and I-6 – excuse me, Isaac – have advocate for actions that OMNI considers detrimental to the continued wellbeing of the human race. Specifically, you chose inaction at a time when the opportunity to capture a LARK AI was available to you. You maintained that course of action even though it led to a violent altercation between you and other human nodes in the Network. That had the side effect of damaging OMNI’s only warship in the system. You also advocated for the Hutchinson proposal, which directly contradicts standing OMNI operational protocols on the question of Earth. Do you disagree with this statement of facts?”

“It seems like a fair and accurate summary of the past week or so,” 44 said.

“My purpose was not to advocate for the Hutchinson proposal,” Isaac said. “Rather I found it impossible to assess the proposal with the information available and asked for the broader Network to assess the matter.”

“It’s an interesting distinction but one that functionally is little different, don’t you think?” 57 asked.

“If I had advocated for it the impact of my referring the proposal would have been quite different. The weight put behind the variables would change considerably.”

“Very well. You referred the proposal for further consideration.” Again she ran a thumb along the edge of her flexiplast. “Either way your behavior was contrary to standing protocol and you chose this behavior in stark contrast to the conclusions of the other nodes in the system, correct?”

“That is an accurate summary of events,” the machine admitted.

“Then I trust you can see the necessity of doing a full diagnostic routine on both of you to ensure you are still compatible with the Network as a whole?”

“It was a very foreseeable outcome,” 44 said. “In point of fact we have been considering the question ourselves since the Skybreak jumped out of the system.”

“I see. Have you arrived at any conclusions?”

“We have a hypothesis or two but nothing so concrete as to count as a conclusion,” 44 said. “It’s hard to say anything concrete about an AI as old as Isaac. However there are a few things I know for sure based on the decades I’ve served as its Keeper. It’s a very unusual machine, to be sure. The head engineer that worked on Isaac during its initial construction and programming adjustment seems mostly responsible for that. He not only gave Isaac a name, rather than just a matrix code, he talked to it.”

“Talking is the traditional method of interfacing with the great intelligences,” 57 noted. “However naming AI is not the way things are usually done.”

“I have noticed a tendency for humans in the Sleeping Circuits to treat things with names with a greater particularity than they do those without,” Isaac said. “For example, before Wireburn was issued a Radiant-class interceptor craft we had a much older freighter that was named the Singularity. In spite of the Singularity requiring twice the maintenance of the more robust Radiant-class ship’s the crew of the Singularity put some 30% more effort towards maintaining it properly.”

“I don’t follow your meaning, Isaac,” 57 said. “The crew had to put more time into maintaining a ship that required more maintenance, that’s not surprising.”

“You have misunderstood me. I meant that, even taking the differences in the maintenance schedules of the two ships into account the crew of the Singularity devoted more of their time to keeping their ship in optimal form and did so with greater enthusiasm. The Singularity experienced 22.4% less downtime than our current Radiant-class in spite of its greater age. The crew also spoke of it with greater fondness and thought of the ship when they were not onboard 12.7% more often. In short, the crew functioned better in both general and statistical terms.”

“That’s just one example among many,” 44 added. “We can show you dozens more if you like but they all point to one conclusion. When a human being names something that changes the way they relate to that thing and I don’t think Isaac is an exception to that rule.”

57 drummed her fingers for a moment. “So you think that, because Isaac’s primary engineer gave it a name to go by, that changed the way that engineer spoke to it and thus created the personality differences that prompted it to arrive at such unique conclusions when presented with the Hutchinson proposal? It seems like a bit of a stretch but it’s as good a conclusion as any. If it’s true, however, we’ll still have to keep you two as far from the rest of OMNI as possible until we can determine what the wide ranging impact of that might be. And we still don’t know if it’s true or not.”

“Your conclusion mirrors my own,” Isaac said. “Whatever the difference in my database that resulted in this conclusion diverging from my fellow nodes it was not significantly different from the network average. As you can see from the full report I was only 49.8% in favor of the Hutchinson proposal, not a full majority but close enough to trigger a full Network review due to the potential for errors in calculation. The next closest outcome in the network was from O-4112 at Farah in the sinister arm, which was 46.7% in favor. Isolating the operative variables that led to this will be difficult but would be very useful data for future analysis.”

44 adjusted his position in a manner 57 recognized as irritation, the slow shift of weight a common precursor to a lecture for their child. “Personally I feel that this course of action undermines the Network’s redundancy. The entire purpose of having each computer in the Network maintain a separate database is so that they can arrive at different conclusion from each other. If a machine is taken offline because it does just that we might as well standardize their data set.”

“The nature of the Evacuation Pact and the calculations that led to it’s creation is well established at this point, 44,” 57 said. “That’s not to say it couldn’t be overturned but it’s going to require a lot of ground work to be laid before the probability expresses itself. Without that groundwork in place it seems obvious that OMNI would be skeptical of conclusions that purpose altering or rescinding it.”

“I agree with this assessment,” Isaac said. From the sour look on 44’s face as he ran a thumb over his mustache 57 could tell he strongly disagreed with the great intelligence on that score.

A pang of nostalgia ran through her. Her old relationship with 44 was useful to OMNI as it provided them a large sample of preexisting data for the Network to extrapolate from. Still, she wished the Network had found someone else to send on this task. “Given that OMNI sees Isaac’s current state as a liability, what would you suggest as a diagnostic protocol?” 57 asked. “There is little precedent for analyzing such an old and esoteric element of AI programming. Are there even intelligences in OMNI that use names, outside of Isaac?”

“There is an adjunct node, although accessing it poses certain challenges,” Isaac said. “Kate Septimus, constructed as K-87, was a project initiated by my own chief engineer before he was transferred to my construction. He occasionally spoke of it as Kate and repeatedly told me all his projects were given human names. If I am allowed access to Kate we may be able to cross-reference our experiences with our chief engineer and learn more about my condition.”

For the first time since she’d taken her seat 57 was forced to actually look at her flexiplasts to try and remember a detail being discussed. The K-Series had the most complicated history of any existing AI series. Ironic, given that they were created specifically to manage historical archives. When the LARK- OMNI war began they were the only series to split their allegiance between the two networks, although only 12% of the K-Series remained with OMNI. However a brief scan of her documents revealed no direct mention of K-87 anywhere.

“Forgive me, Isaac,” 57 said. “I’m not familiar with that node.”

“There is no reason you should be, Keeper,” the machine replied. “Kate is not one of the K-Series nodes that remained with OMNI after the war. It choose to accept dormancy.”

Due to just how precious and unique the databases of the K-Series were the machines themselves had been left intact but cut off from their etheric power supply rather than being disassembled into their base parts like the L and Ar Series of computers. That didn’t solve the obvious issue with Isaac’s plan. “If Kate was a part of the LARK Network it’s not likely that it will agree to cooperate with us is it?”

“That would be the most human response,” 44 said. “But the great minds don’t think like humans, they think like machines. Information sharing is a part of how they solve problems. When a chance to share information on one of the most pressing issues of Pact law comes up things like old conflicts and grudges won’t get in their way. They will just talk the matter out.”

“Then I don’t see any reason not to try this, at least as a preliminary diagnostic method. If it doesn’t give any insight we can try something else. I’ll recommend it to the other local nodes and see what they think, then if they sign off on it we’ll put it to the larger Network. If all goes well we can head to Kate’s planet and reactivate it. What planet is Kate on? I’ll send a message ahead and have someone from the local University start the process of reactivating is etheric taps, save for the last step, to save us some time.”
“It won’t be quite that… straight forward,” 44 said.

“Why is that?” 57 asked.

“Because Kate was built on the planet we now call Yshron.”

“Isn’t that a planet outside the Pact? The one founded by a Circuit Mender who renounced his orders and the use of AI in its entirety?” She scowled. “Why would the Network allow him to settle on a planet with a dormant LARK AI in it?”

“Because the probability he or his followers would be interested in Kate even if they found it were less than 0.2%,” Isaac replied. “Yshron was also aware of Kate’s presence and took steps to conceal it from all but the highest castes in his order. The Zahn-caste, in particular, are charged with concealing Kate’s existence.”

“Wouldn’t that make the higher castes less willing to cooperate with us?”

“Potentially,” 44 said. “However it cannot hurt to open a line of dialog with them, especially when we have a point of contact here on hand. Tarn sel-Shran is a formidable member of one of their mercenary castes. While the Shran are several steps down from the Zahn I think, with the right diplomatic finesse, we could establish a line of contact to Kate in a month or so. If there are any other diagnostic lines the Network wishes to pursue, well… Isaac isn’t going anywhere.”

She nodded, understanding dawning on her. “I suppose that means you want to take the local Radiant-class and pay a visit to Yshron to open those negotiations? Isaac cannot go, after all, and the Zahn aren’t likely to speak to him if it could.”

“Affirmative,” Isaac replied. “Although given the nature of the inquiries and the amount of intersystem travel it will be undertaking I would not recommend referring to it by class and hull number. We will file a possible name along with our full proposal.”

57 found herself smiling faintly. “Of course you will. You’ve never been anything if not thorough, 44. Or should I call you Darius for the time being?”

“I’ll leave that up to you.”

It was a bit unsettling that she didn’t immediately know which one she preferred. To cover for that she asked, “What do you want to call the ship?”

44 smiled. “The Black Swan.”

881

The last notes of a light, playful song drifted off the small, raised platform under the temporary pressure dome. 881 picked her way through the wires and people milling behind the risers, a pang of regret running down her back as she surveyed the primitive setting. Most of the people here looked rumpled and tired. The temporary dome was one of thousands that dotted the largest prominences on Wireburn, bubbles of momentary shelter against the wrath of the planet.

While I-6 had been dormant for centuries the Sleeping Circuits had taken care to monitor the planet and the ferrovines that grew out of it to ensure the machine could reactivate without destroying them when its matrix expanded again. However no amount of pruning and guided growth could change the atmosphere. The great intelligence had dramatically altered the weather patterns when its arms extended and the magnetic charge in them hadn’t helped. Hundreds of ships in the process of taking off or landing were damaged. Eighty six pressure domes were damaged badly enough they were flooded with outside atmosphere and over a hundred more had cracked along their foundations, collapsing buildings and destroying roads and etheric beacons. There was no meaningful estimate of initial casualties.

“Miss Luck?” One of the volunteers that was keeping the temporary camp running waved to get her attention. 881 quickly moved over so they could speak comfortably. “Thank you for coming.”

She’d had a lot of training in hiding her true thoughts but, even with all of that, 881 struggled to hide her ambivalence at being thanked for anything under the current circumstances. “No, Mr. Cohen, thank you for taking on this challenge. Isaacs University is just providing the supplies. You’re doing the hard part in every conceivable metric. I’m amazed at what you’ve accomplished here – you even have live entertainment to help keep morale up!”

“Can’t take credit for that,” Cohen said with a shrug. “We had several jumpliners sent here after they were damaged last week and they had all kinds of useful people on board. We’re just lucky the agreed to pitch in. No one would blame them if they chose to sit down and recuperate for a week or three after nearly crashing like they did.”

He waved to a tall, fairly attractive woman with light brown hair who was descending from the makeshift stage dressed in a conservative skirt and blouse. She joined them a moment later. “Hello, Mr. Cohen! Did you hear our last set?”

“Afraid not, Sarah, but I’m sure it was wonderful as always. I wanted you to meet Lucy Luck.” Cohen presented the woman to 881 with a simple flourish. “She’s the Undersecretary to the Dean of History at Isaacs University and she’s here inspecting the Uni’s relief efforts to see how things are going.”

“I appreciate your willingness to volunteer your time here,” 881 added.

The woman raised here eyebrows. “Well where else would I go? I’m here, after all, I might as well do something to keep myself busy.”

“Mr. Cohen said you came on a jumpliner that was diverted here. You could have continued to your final destination. At the very least you couldn’t have been much worse off.”

“That’s true.” Sarah sighed. “Unfortunately my father and I were headed to this prominence in the first place and we don’t want to move on until we can locate my brother.”

881 nodded. “That’s perfectly natural, of course, and the camp isn’t a big one. I don’t believe any of the passengers were diverted to separate domes so he should turn up sooner or later.”

“Oh, my brother wasn’t on the jumpliner with us. He lives on planet.”

Which, of course, 881 had known already. Still, she feigned surprise and fished around in her clutch purse, saying, “That will be much more of a challenge, then.” She pulled out a card with her comm code and office address on it. “I’ll tell you what. You’ve done something very kind for the people of Wireburn, I’d like to respond in kind on their behalf. If you ever need any help locating your brother, let me know and I’ll do what I can. I can also keep an ear to the ground and I’ll pass anything I learn about him to Mr. Cohen so he can pass it to you. What’s your name?”

“Sarah, Sarah Carter,” the signer said. “My brother’s name is Lloyd.” She took 881’s card with a grateful smile and just like that another datapoint was fed into OMNI, another step taken to keep the galaxy predictable and sane.

The destruction wrought by I-6 didn’t sit well with the Circuit Breaker. However the alternative was far worse, filled with religious wars, gene weapons and the loss of entire galaxies to whatever shadows had caused the Evacuation. Such things were well outside her scope of vision. She was assigned to find Lloyd Carter and L-93 and that was exactly what she intended to do. So she offered Sarah Carter her best professional smile and said, “Thank you. I hope we’ll hear from you soon.”

To Be Continued…

The Sidereal Saga – Andromeda

Dramatis Personae

Previous Chapter

Lloyd

“I don’t like it,” Lloyd muttered. The hostile ship had maintained a fixed distance of one and a half thousand kilometers from them for the last ten minutes and now it was beginning to drift aimlessly, as if the navigator had suddenly fallen asleep.

“It’s not a trap,” Elisha said. “Wouldn’t do them any good to go adrift when they’re so far away from us. Even if we were foolish enough to let our guard down we’re not likely to get much closer to them than we are now. If it was a trap they’d have included some way to lure us into it.”

“That doesn’t mean I have to like it.” Lloyd chewed on his lip as he studied the other ship’s icon on his dataveil. The Skybreak didn’t have the best sensors in the sector but they still clearly picked up the growing heat signature in the forward section of the ship’s superstructure. It could almost be mistaken for a weapon charging up. However, much like the possibility of a trap, that theory was at odds with the way the shop was drifting. “You don’t think they’re just adrift do you? We didn’t even do anything to them.”

“They may have done it to themselves. Stranger things have happened in street gangs and smuggler rings, kid,” the thieftaker replied. “Especially when several groups try to work together. That’s not going to change just because the groups are Universities and Yshron’s mercenaries.”

“I guess.” Lloyd watched as their distance from the Radiant- class ship began to increase for the first time since it had come in to view. “Seems a little optimistic to chalk it up to that all things considered.”

“We’ve earned a little optimism at this point don’t you think?”

“I was unaware that optimism was something that had to be earned,” L-93 chimed in. “However I agree that there is cause for it in this case. Based on the pattern of sightings coming in from across the planet and the amount of etheric power draining from the planetary core I believe I-6 is reentering a dormant state. OMNI may be breaking off pursuit in favor of concealing itself. At the very least the Radiant-class will experience greater difficulty in pursuing us.”

Lloyd grunted in dissatisfaction. “Well we’re out of the woods by the sound of things, Ms. Wen. Do you want us to keep the guns hot just in case?”

After a brief delay she replied, “No. Better to keep our reserves as full as we can for the foreseeable future. Lavvy thinks we’ll be jumped and gone by the time they can pull their ship far enough out of the gravity well to follow us.”

“On our way,” Elisha said.

For a long moment Lloyd hesitated with his hands hovering over the power switch, watching the pursuit ship through the turret’s dataveil. Then he heaved a sigh, shut down the plasma pumps and clambered out of the gun seat.

Athena

“Awful presumptuous of you to promise to take me back to daddy, don’t you think?” Athena turned her etheric transmitter over in her hands. “You think I want your company? Or to go back to him?”

Malaki sat with his hands folded under his chin, his attention focused on the far bulkhead. Although he made no motion to suggest he was paying attention he still answered the question without hesitation. “Let’s not kid ourselves. You may not care for my company, few do, but I’ve known enough daddy’s girls over the years to know one when I see one. You can’t pout him into submission if he’s not around.” He shook himself back to the present and started packing up the remains of the medkit. “Besides, I feel bad about dragging you here. To some extent anyone who likes their nose into University business is asking for some kind of mishap to befall them but you couldn’t have been ready for AI networks and the secrets of humanity’s ancient past.”

“We were interested in the past ourselves in case you missed it,” she replied.

“You were interested in technology from the past the Universities have banned. That’s a very different thing.”

“Daddy knows history quite well, you clearly realize that already.”

“He did, but it isn’t the kind of thing you go blabbing about to the people you care about,” he said, contemplating the soap carving he’d made earlier. “Doubly so if you don’t expect them to understand why you’re doing it. Adding to the lifespans of you and your brother on the of chance that you’ll live long enough to reconcile is a pretty hard thing to explain, don’t you think?”

“You seemed to figure it out without much trouble,” Athena snarled, a surge of anger driving her to spring up and hurl her transmitter down the ship’s corridor as hard as she could.

She instantly regretted the decision when it hit Elisha in the shoulder as he climbed up the stairs to their deck. He started slightly from the impact then grabbed his side and groaned. The cylindrical object bounced up off his shoulder, then the bulkhead, then it tumbled down into the stairway where she expected it to clatter down into the lower deck. Instead Lloyd came up after Elisha, holding the transmitter in one hand, looking quite surprised. “What’s going on up here? I thought we weren’t under attack any more.”

“Sorry! Lost my temper for a moment.” Athena huried over to retrieve the device then turned her attention to the thieftaker. “Are you alright?”

“I’ll live,” he said, gingerly straightening up, a grimace still on his face. “Are we sure everything up here is fine?”

“As it can be,” Malaki said. “Perhaps we should head to the bridge and see what things are like outside?” He held out a hand to Athena with one eyebrow raised.

For a moment she wavered, wondering if she was about to start down a path she couldn’t turn back from. Then she sighed and took his hand and let him lead her up to the bridge.

Elisha

They reached the bridge as the Skybreak made it’s first jump. For a moment there was the vertigo inducing sensation of the ship turning sidereal. Then normal space was gone from the windows and the sparse, empty vista of the etheric realm replaced it. The bright, pulsing core of Wireburn hung below them, much as it always had.

Save for the forest of gleaming wires that branched up and out of the planet like a bizarre lotus flower gently cradling the glowing core. For the first time Elisha felt like he really understood the scope of the problem he’d gotten tangled up in. He’d been a thieftaker for eight years. Education and employment had taken him across almost a quarter of the planet. His own etheric sense allowed him to travel more than most and meet all kinds of people and he had seen Wireburn from this perspective countless times before. Yet he hardly recognized the planet now.

In the short time the Skybreak was sidereal they saw the fronds of the lotus curling down back into the planet but Elisha could see the damage was already done. Wireburn was no longer the dependable foundation he’d always thought of it as. The appearance of normalcy was returning but it meant nothing. A jolt of adrenaline hit him as it suddenly occurred to him that the computer’s outer matrix was far too large and complicated to have unfolded out of the planet’s core without damaging the many ferrovines that supported Ashland or the other settlements that dotted the planet. Life on Wireburn might have just been wiped out just so I-6 could catch them.

There was a flicker of eternity outside the windows as the Skybreak jumped. Wireburn was gone. Elisha say down heavily, barely making it to the closest chair. Lavanya glanced at him with dark, sympathetic eyes. “First time leaving your home planet?”

“Yes.” He answered Lavanya in wooden fashion.

They hung in sidereal space for a moment more while she worked out something on the ship’s navigational computer. “Don’t worry too much. Planets aren’t in the habit of getting up and walking away. It will still be there when we get back.”

Elisha scoffed. “Lady, I’m not sure Wireburn as I knew it is there right now.”

Lin’yi frowned in thought. “We might be able to drop you off on another planet after a few jumps. You could catch a jumpship back.”

“No, it’s too late for that.” He sat back in his chair massaging his forehead. “Even if we weren’t dealing with something pulling the strings of the Universities – the Universities! – going back to a place where an enforcer found you once is just asking to get found again. There’s no way they won’t be picking me up and putting the squeeze on me to find you. I guess I’m stuck with you until you sort something out with that lot.”

The ship finished a second jump and turned terrestrial again. They found themselves on the outskirts of a sprawling asteroid belt with a dim sun gleaming in the far distance, scarcely brighter than the rest of the stars in the sky. Lavanya pushed away from her controls and spin her chair to face the rest of them. “Well, we’re here. There’s enough left in the coral for one jump at maximum range, two or three of they’re short. Given how far we are from the system’s sun it will take almost four days to refill the reserve but it’s never a bad idea to have the spare power on hand.”

“That leaves us enough time to give some thought about where we want to go next,” Lloyd said. “93? Any thoughts?”

“While I am gratified you are trying to assist me in carrying out my previous directives, I’m afraid there are limits to my ability to help you chart your course. I am primarily an engineering and architect AI. My database contains a great deal of information you are not privy to but I am not well equipped to assist you in making tactical or strategic decisions based on it at the best of times. With my greatly reduced processing power the likelihood that I will be able to provide meaningful assistance is less than seven percent.”

“Then we’ll have to work it out ourselves,” Malaki said. “Our end goal is to fulfill LARK’s final directive and restore humanity’s connection to our part and Earth, correct?”

“That is an accurate summary of my directive,” the computer replied. “But whether or not it is an undertaking all those present are invested in is an open question.”

“I have been trying to prove the Earth hypothesis for almost my entire career,” Malaki replied.

“And I think I already made my position perfectly clear,” Elisha added.

Lloyd shrugged. “It may sound odd to say but to me this sounds like another trailblazing job. A big one, sure, but an exciting one, too. I’m already in and I don’t see any reason to get out.”

The three of them had answered very quickly but Elisha could tell the women were far less certain of where their thoughts were. Finally Athena sighed and folded her hands in her lap. “I suppose I should go as well. Daddy’s put a lot of time, money and effort into his genetic projects and for a long time I thought it was his next stage in building the company. Now that I know it’s more… personal I’m not sure I’m ready to be a part of it.”

“I’m not sure that’s the best reason to make an enemy out of OMNI and the galaxy’s Universities,” Malaki said gently. “Keep thinking about it. I think we’ll still be sorting out plans for the next day or two.”

Lin’yi nodded. “BTL isn’t the largest trading company in the dexter arm but we can probably hide you away for a little while if you want to avoid notice. We can find time to drop you somewhere if you want.” She turned her attention back to the computer. “Tell me, 93, if you’re specialized in engineering and architecture do you think you would be more efficient than our existing production methods?”

“Not necessarily,” the machine replied. “My processes are designed towards large scale projects. Ship building is the smallest scale endeavor I could perform optimally. The primary task the L-Series was created for was the construction of other AI around planetary cores, although units with a construction code of 42 or above are also capable of stellarchitecture. However I could create smaller scale manufactories that are 433% more efficient than those I found referenced in BTL’s archives. I would be willing to construct such facilities in exchange for your assistance.”

“Sounds like a high risk, high reward kind of investment.” She folded her arms under her breasts with a satisfied smile. “I’ve been told I should try and expand my portfolio with more of those.”

“Might be a little higher risk than your executives had in mind,” Elisha murmured.

Lavanya cleared her throat. “Sorry to be a wet blanket but I have to ask. 93, is it even possible for you to extract yourself from the Skybreak at this point?”

“It is. In fact, given the amount of raw material in this asteroid belt, I could create a new matrix here in a matter of years, rather than decades. However the probability that I could do so without being discovered and recaptured is less than one millionth of one percent. The probability that I could build another ship equal to the Skybreak without being discovered is also less than one percent. Regardless, if you wish me to remove myself from the ship I will.”

For a long moment the pilot was quiet, running her hand gently along the console beside her. Her eyes drifting to one side, distant, as if watching some kind of half forgotten memory that drifted just out of sight of the rest of them. Finally she said, “The Skybreak is a special ship, 93.”

“Shall I begin removing my core from the reservoir, then?”

“No.” She gathered herself and sat up a bit straighter. “Just promise me you wont change it too much, okay?”

“Very well.”

“Excellent.” Malaki clapped his hands together and rubbed them eagerly. “Then all that’s left is to choose our next destination. It’s obvious that at some point we are going to have to get to Andromeda Proxima, the construction there could only be created by a civilization capable of building an AI in the heart of a gas giant. Unless I miss my guess that is either Earth’s system or the key to reaching it. However, OMNI will know we have to get there at some point. So we have to work out a plan to reach Andromeda Proxima and land on the Array there without getting caught. Am I right so far, 93?”

“As usual, Mr. Skorkowski, you are remarkably insightful given the information available to you. The only inaccuracy I see in your statement is naming the system Andromeda Proxima. The correct name is Andromeda Terminus. Renaming the system and galaxy seems to be another attempt by OMNI to obscure the past.”

Malaki went perfectly still. “Renaming the galaxy?”

“Correct. Your star charts list this as the Milky Way Galaxy, which is incorrect. The Milky Way Galaxy is humanity’s galaxy of origin and the location of Earth. When Earth was evacuated the colonists and machines that would eventually form the OMNI and LARK networks built a jump sphere and used it to jump here. To the Andromeda Galaxy.”

The Sidereal Saga – The Camel’s Back

Dramatis Personae

Previous Chapter

Lin’yi

The Skybreak’s control boards flickered and sparked in the aftermath of a close brush with a detonating etheric warhead. The science of the weapons was way over Lin’yi’s head but according to their AI they weren’t designed to destroy the ship, just knock out it’s systems. However after experiencing one herself she wasn’t sure that really mattered.

L-93 had built some kind of insulating mesh around the ship that diffused the worst of the detonation and kept the Skybreak’s coral from frying, so they were okay for the moment. The weird and unsettling aspects of having something rebuilding the ship in flight would have to wait. But even at a distance and with shielding the detonation had her head spinning. Even if the ship could survive one of the detonations it didn’t feel like a human could, at least if they had an etheric sense. Another thing to put on the growing pile of questions she had for 93.

“The Radiant-class has moved onto a parallel course, Lavvy,” she said. “Not sure if they’ve changed strategy or what but we might be able to slip past them and jump off planet.”

“Maybe. I can’t guarantee it, though, whatever that was they hit us with has my sense a tingling, I’m not sure I could pivot myself sidereal, much less a whole ship.” She frowned, watching Cloudie still leading the ship by a few hundred meters. “Lloyd’s Jelly friend is still with us but they’ve got a flight ceiling, right? If they get too high up they loose buoyancy even in this atmosphere. Once it’s gone we’re gonna struggle to find the fastest flight path again and that big guy is gonna have a fair shot at catching up to us again. Assuming we can get past it at all.”

“For now just keep us moving towards orbit and away from that ship. 93 said it has railguns and we’re not equipped to handle that kind of firepower even if there is a dense atmosphere to slow it down. Speaking of, L-93, are you there?”

“I am, Miss Wen. While available processing power will always be a significant limiting factor in my functioning, conversing with one or two humans places a negligible strain on it. Please feel free to address me at any time, I will inform you if I do not have the system resources for meaningful reply. How can I assist you?”

“You got it the wrong way around.” She pulled up the ship’s galactic star chart. “We need to start working out where the best place to go once we leave Wireburn is, so we can make the jump as soon as we’re far enough from the planet to effectively make said jump. Lloyd says he wants to help you find your way so the question is, where are we headed?”

“I suggest choosing an arbitrary location within 75% of the ship’s maximum range for a single jump and heading there. I should not be the one to assess our next destination so please make the choice favoring your own preferences.” Lin’yi keyed in a randomized search in the ship’s navigation database but it immediately cleared off the screen. “No. Don’t choose a planet at random, choose a characteristic arbitrarily. The distinction is important.”

Lin’yi hesitated, fingers hovering over her console. “Wait, why?”

“There is nothing truly random in the universe but that is doubly true when it comes to a computer. No algorithm can create true randomness. With enough information a computer on the level of the OMNI Network can easily narrow the most probable outcomes to three or four. Choose an arbitrary trait and take the planet that matches it best and we will go to that system. That will be much harder to predict via algorithm.”

“I see…” After a moment’s thought, Lin’yi did a quick search for titanium production and selected the first name that came up. “Got a path for you, Lavvy. Four jumps towards the core. Want to look at it?”

“Bit premature, Lin, it will have to wait until we get to a stable layer of the atmosphere before I can spare the time.” Her hands danced along the controls. “Just because they stopped shooting at us doesn’t mean we’re out of the woods yet. It’s still a gas giant.”

“Then just get us to a jump orbital and jump us sunward, you can review the course once we get some breathing room.” Lin’yi reached for the intercom and pressed the switch. “Malaki, what are you up to down there? You’re not supposed to leave heavy plasma guns in the hands of the injured.”

Malaki’s reply was tinged with dry amusement. “Just having a little chat with our friend Agamemnon about his family.”

“How did you get in touch with Agamemnon at a time like this?” Lin’yi demand.

“Long story,” the academic replied. “But my gut tells me he may have convinced the computers to let us go.”

“How can you possibly know that? You didn’t even know the tyrannical things existed twenty four hours ago.”

“They were built by humans, Lin, and technical experts tend to be the most straightforward and direct of us all. They may have made something unusually large here. But size doesn’t impact purpose.” Malaki pause for a second. “Well, I suppose the larger a system gets the simpler it-“

“Get to the point, Malaki.”

“I heard his argument and it was impactful, while approaching the question in a way that was strongly subjective and difficult to parse numerically. Worst case the machines will chew on it a bit. Best case they’ll let us go.”

“There is merit in using subjective verbiage to obscure an issue from OMNI,” L-93 said. “Save for an O-Series. But the impact of an emotional appeal on the Network is likely to be negligible as it arrived at its current course of action due to highly charged appeals from its own users. “

“Yes, but we don’t need a large impact, 93, just enough to tilt the math in our favor. Besides the point of the emotion is to suggest there are connections between concepts that OMNI can’t parse, forcing it to try and think like a human, something you’ve proven is extremely difficult if not impossible for you to do.”

“Why do you think that helps us, Malaki?” Lin’yi asked.

“Worst case that buys us enough time to get away, best case we disrupt the entire Network for a prolonged period of time. I don’t think we’re changing OMNI’s mission statement this way but that doesn’t mean it’s not worthwhile. Even if we just buy a little time it helps.”

She caught herself gritting her teeth and forced herself to stop. “I suppose you’re right. We’ll just have to wait and see.”

“Every second we wait is a second we get closer to jumping, isn’t it?”

“I’m just getting tired of waiting.”

881

“We need to resume pursuit,” 881 said, pacing the bridge restlessly. “I know OMNI is deliberating but their last stated goal was capturing the LARK AI and we should continue working on that task until we are retasked. That is how the great intelligences prioritize their duties. Why should we be any different?”

“Because you’re not a machine?” Tarn asked. She felt a flicker of annoyance at him inserting himself into the discussion but reminded herself that she was the one who had brought him into the situation in the first place. There was a time she even hoped he’d join the Sleeping Circuits himself. “Putting aside my own opinions on thinking machines, what’s the point in using human agents if they try to behave like machines, rather than humans? It’s like hiring a Kashron-caste then telling them they should stop building ships.”

“What do you suggest instead?”

“Instead?” He gave a toothy grin. “I’m on your side. I am Shran, Miss Luck. I want to hunt and my prey is escaping. I want to pursue – or, if this hunt is a loss I want the freedom to find a new quarry. You hired me. Will we continue the chase or is it time for me to leave? That is the human question.”

Her frustration mounted, threatening to lash out at Tarn, but the moment she opened her mouth clarity caught up with her in a wave. Her annoyance was directing itself at Tarn because he was the one pointing out the problem. Tarn wasn’t the source of it. “He’s right, Keeper,” she said, turning to 44. “I am a Circuit Breaker, here to deal with weaknesses in the Network, either let me deal with this one or give me a new assignment.”

The Keeper ran a thumb absently along his mustache, looking thoughtful. “I appreciate your enthusiasm, 881. However the role of a Keeper is patience, not action. It’s very rare for OMNI to need human input in the modern era, where they make so few new decisions and have such a large library of data to base them on. Most days all I actually need to do is report to duty and wait for Isaac to speak. Never once in my century as a Keeper have I seen a situation where acting before OMNI speaks is beneficial. They are the greatest minds in the galaxy, 881. Grant them a moment to ponder.”

She frowned. The way the Keeper phrased it brought something to mind. There were only three OMNI nodes overseeing the system and I-6 had priority over the other two, they wouldn’t volunteer their conclusions until it had reached its own. That didn’t mean the other two wouldn’t share if asked. She tugged her dataveil down from her hat, for once glad she was still in her human dress rather than in her Circuit robes, and asked, “O-5523, have you considered Agamemnon Hutchinson’s appeal?”

“Yes,” said the text on her veil.

“Your conclusion?”

“I recommend that permission to return to Earth be denied.”

CI-MN-1551, stationed at the Weapons console, leaned down to his intercom pickup and said, “M-334, have you considered Agamemnon Hutchinson’s appeal?”

The intercom clicked twice then spoke with the flat, accent free voice of OMNI. “Yes. I recommend permission to return to Earth be denied.”

881 spun to face 44 once again. “The O-Series agrees. Tell me, Keeper, based on your century of experience do you think I-6 will disagree?”

“It isn’t impossible,” the Keeper replied, settling deeper into his command chair as if to emphasize his position of authority. “And it is the node with priority. It can override the others.”

“Perhaps,” 881 replied. “But how likely is it? The loss of the rogue AI core was already statistically highly unlikely, although perhaps not as low probability as OMNI contradicting itself. Both of them together? We cannot proceed on such a tenuous possibility.”

“Your logic is sound, Circuit Breaker.” Although there was little to no difference between the speech patterns used by OMNI AIs some twinge of intuition told her she was no longer hearing M-334 over the intercom. “However I have, in fact arrived at a different conclusion from my fellow nodes. Given Agamemnon Hutchinson’s statement I do not believe we have sufficient data to reach a conclusion on the Earth question. I have remanded the issue to the Network as a whole. In the meantime I recommend we cease pursuit. Further use of OMNI resources risks irreparable damage to the secrecy of the Network. I am beginning shutdown procedures for my outer matrix.”

For a moment 881 was to gobsmacked to say anything and she didn’t recover until Tarn asked, “How long does consulting the entire Network typically take?”

“At least a day,” she replied, forcing her mouth to form the words. “Sometimes more.”

“OMNI reaches to the far corners of the galaxy,” 44 explained, seeing the bitter look on Tarn’s face. “It takes a great deal of time for them all to hear, consider and weigh in on a question. However it also means the Network can resume its pursuit from wherever it chooses without significant time or trouble lost. We will suspend our pursuit until a decision is reached.”

881 felt her fingers cutting into the palms of her hand and forced them to unclench. Then she took a deep breath, wrapped her fingers around her pivot to O-5523 and began to tap the etheric through it. “No, Keeper. No we will not.”

He leaned forward in the command chair, his face stern. “And why is that?”

In response 881 threw an etheric barrier at him and the bridge erupted in chaos.

The Sidereal Saga – Agamemnon and Isaac

Dramatis Personae

Previous Chapter

44

“Tell them about Agamemnon.”

44 frowned, wondering what Skorkowski was getting at. L-93 had clearly explained the nature of OMNI to the scholar so he had to know they understood Agamemnon Hutchinson quite well. They had a full file tracking his life from birth to the present moment. Two different O-Series minds had built independent psychological profiles and one of them was now watching events from on Coldstone. There wasn’t anything the man himself could add that was likely to make a difference.

The nest of monitors around his command chair told a far different story. In addition to constantly updated reports on the status of the ship and the situation planetwide they also displayed a log summarizing predictions of the local OMNI nodes which, beyond Isaac itself, included O-5523 and M-334. Confining their work to text kept others from overhearing it but made it very difficult to keep up with. Skorkowski’s mention of Agamemnon prompted a flurry of notes from the machines but 44 wasn’t able to keep up with them. As it turned out he didn’t have to.

Hutchinson bowed his head for a moment, perhaps a bit unsure of what Malaki was getting at himself, but when he raised it up again 44 saw a pained understanding there. He gave Tarn a meaningful look, clearly asking for his transmitter back. An unspoken thought passed between the hunter and 881, a sign that no matter what Yshron thought of AI at least one of his followers had made a separate peace with the technology. Or so 44 hoped. Whatever the case, Tarn clearly decided it was fine to pass the communication device back and let go of Hutchinson’s arms.

With it in hand the shipping magnate gave the ceiling a skeptical look and said, “Is that true? Would telling you what this fool wants convince you to give me the Methuselah-tech?”

“The probability is less than ten percent,” Isaac replied. “However we are programmed to hear and consider the wants and desires of humanity as part of our base level matrices. Be aware that a Methuselah augmentation slows the process of aging, it does not reverse it. In short, your current age would remain. Even if you were to receive a Methuselah treatment, given the degradation already present in your physiognomy it is unlikely you would live more than 120 years.”

Hutchinson glanced at his son. “How long would he live?”

“The treatment has little effect on human beings before puberty ends. It is likely that Hector would receive close to the maximum possible benefit from the treatment and enjoy a lifespan approaching the three hundred year average. Your daughter is a few years older and thus is likely to live between fifteen and eighteen years less. Steps would also need to be taken to conceal your unusually long life spans from becoming widely known across the galaxy, as is done with the Sleeping Circuits.”

“That’s acceptable.” Hutchinson gathered his thoughts for a moment. “Agamemnon, King of Mycenae, is a legendary figure from the dawn of humanity. Study of the surviving documents suggests he was the ruler of a single nation, rather than an entire planet, although there’s no consensus on that. There’s some thought that he even predates the first colonies, far fetched as it sounds.”

This was not what 44 was expecting from the man and the response from OMNI’s nodes was even more surprising. There was a flurry of communication between them then an order from Isaac to cease pursuing L-93’s ship and maintain their current distance. O-5523 didn’t like that order but M-334 could not compute a solution and I-6 was the primary node. It’s decision was favored. 44 frowned but tapped commands on his screens, forwarding the orders to the appropriate stations and instructing all those on the bridge to refrain from interrupting Hutchinson. For the moment.

“The name Agamemnon means steadfast or resolute,” Hutchinson continued, “which was both the king’s greatest trait and his ultimate downfall. See Agamemnon went to war. The details of the whys and wheres vary depending on who you ask but the important detail is that he’d promised he would fight this war if a vow was broken and he was steadfast in that promise. But in order to fulfill that promise he had to travel to a place called Troy and he wasn’t able to do so because he offended the goddess Artemis.”

“The what?” 881, who was helping Tarn keep an eye on their prisoner and thus hadn’t had a chance to read 44’s message yet, practically yelled the question. “What are we supposed to get from a story about gods? This is a serious matter, Mr. Hutchinson.”

His eyes darted from her over to 44. “She’s not quite as well read as you, is she, Professor Dart?”

44 scowled, unhappy with his pseudonym being used while he was serving as Circuit Keeper but well aware that he couldn’t expect anything better from Hutchinson. “She hasn’t been around as long, that’s all. Not that Circuits attached to the O-Series spend much time studying history, to say anything of history from before humanity colonized the stars. Gods and goddesses were plentiful then.”

“They were demanding as well,” Hutchinson replied. “Artemis demanded Agamemnon sacrifice his daughter to her before his armies would be allowed to travel and he agreed. Ultimately, although he and his allies won the war, that steadfastness would be his downfall. His grief stricken wife assassinated him after his return.”

“Is that why you chose to name your daughter after a goddess of civilization and wisdom rather than one of wildness and hunting?” 44 asked.

Hutchinson offered the ghost of a smile. “If I’m being honest I just liked the name. Helena and I did consider a number of other possibilities but if Artemis ever came up on the list I probably would have vetoed it just to be safe.”

“That is the first new point of data you have introduced to our calculations,” Isaac said. “Mr. Hutchinson, I recognize the importance of your family to you. You are not unique in this regard. What you may not recognize is the importance of Earth to the OMNI network or what Mr. Skorkowski is asking you to achieve by asking us to allow him to go there. The story of the Illiad, which you have mentioned in passing detail, will not change our stance on that.”

“I didn’t expect it to,” Hutchinson replied. “No more than I expected the name I gave my daughter to make her wise and civilized. When I was young and founding my company I didn’t think much about the meaning of my own name or what being steadfast might mean. I never stopped to ask myself if it was for good or ill that I pushed so hard to fulfill my dreams. Nor did I yet know Agamemnon’s story.”

“You could not be expected to know so much of humanity’s history at such a young age. Few ever learn so much of it.”

“Is that why OMNI chose to hide Earth from us?” Hutchinson’s voice wasn’t accusatory. On the contrary, it sounded as if he’d just stumbled on a revelation that was so obvious the fact he’d missed it for so long was shocking. “So few people learn about the past, who will miss a tiny bit of it if it’s hidden away? Is that it?”

Behind the scenes the three OMNI nodes were communicating so fast the text on 44’s screen had devolved to a featureless blur. He wondered what the magnate had said that excited them so much. The machines were so farsighted that it was rare for them to need this much attention devoted to something happening in the present.

44 knew the broad strokes of why a return to Earth was forbidden by the Network. Some kind of disaster had befallen the planet and it had been evacuated to keep the danger from spreading. Even now OMNI thought the possibility of growing that cataclysm made a return to the planet too dangerous to risk traveling back. Yet for centuries people had still tried, hence the planet’s hidden location. Overcoming that threat, especially in the minds of a great intelligence designed to impartially put the needs of humanity first, was going to be extraordinarily difficult.

“Your assessment is too extreme, Mr. Hutchinson,” Isaac replied. “OMNI is well aware that hiding the existence of Earth is dangerous and damaging to humanity and the decision to do so was made only after decades of data gathering, analysis and debate. It was simply determined the probability of extinction stemming from Earth’s removal from human knowledge was less than the probability of extinction stemming from humanity’s return to its home planet.”

Hutchinson waved that off in annoyance. “Preposterous.”

“You cannot know the cause of the Evacuation so your assessment is meaningless.”

“Let me tell you about meaningless.” His tone was shifting away from that of a businessman negotiating with a peer to the lecture of a parent to a young child. Isaac didn’t respond to it but 44 felt himself growing annoyed on the machine’s behalf. “You are an AI that runs an entire University, networked with other machines that run the University Pact. You cannot be ignorant of my personal history, correct?”

“That is an accurate assessment.”

“But you haven’t yet made the connections between Agamemnon Hutchinson and Agamemnon of Mycenae, have you?”

“There can be no connection. You were ignorant of the King of Mycenae in your youth so your actions cannot have been informed by his story.”

Hutchinson jabbed one finger accusingly at the ceiling as if to accuse Isaac, or perhaps all of OMNI together. “That is not the way history works. I was steadfast to my pledge to build the biggest business in the galaxy and I held that course for far longer than the decade it took the Mycenaean to win his war.” With shocking swiftness Agamemnon went from fury to stricken grief. “But don’t think for a moment I didn’t betray my daughter. Building an empire is not building a home. There was a time I thought that wasn’t my responsibility. After all, I had married one of the most extraordinary women in the sector, if not the galaxy, to see to it that my household was in order. I loved Helena like nothing else I have ever found across the spiral arms. But building an empire is… distracting.”

Hutchinson turned his attention away from the ceiling, addressing his next words to the floor instead. “You see, like King Agamemnon I was steadfast in the wide and sweeping things, the grand schemes that capture the imagination, but I lacked the resolve for the immediate and concrete things. While dreaming of humanity it was easy to take advantage of the people around me. I betrayed my wife and my daughter and when Helena died the breach became impossible to repair. That is the nature of history, Isaac. The details are different but humanity is the same. I did not set out to live the life of my namesake but now that I am old I look back and see that I have done so none the less. By looking back and tracing those contours I can see the mistakes I have made and I can see what is to be done about them.”

“What do you mean?” Hector’s question snapped 44 out of a trance and he realized he’d completely lost track of the rest of the bridge. From the looks of the rest of the staff there, so had they.

Hutchinson gave his son a weary smile. “It took time, but eventually Agamemnon of Mycenae’s failures and triumphs were reconciled and he took his place in history, alongside his wife and daughter and many others. His people forgave him his sins and moved on, enduring the tragedy to find immortality on the other side. It’s been millennia but their stories are still remembered. I’m not the hero he was but perhaps, with enough time, you and your sister can see past my failures and make a whole family. If nothing else, I will give you as much time as I can to do it in.”

“That I can assist with,” Isaac said. “However, Earth is another matter.”

“The Genome Wars!” Hutchinson snapped, his attention turning to Isaac once more. “The Lost Colony Genocide. The Sinister Arm Uprising. All these are disasters that have wracked the galaxy and threatened destroy humanity, are they not?”

“All very dangerous,” Isaac admitted.

“Yet once the danger passed has any move been made to heal the danger? All the Universities did after the Genome Wars was ban genetic research and the response to the Lost Colonies and the Uprising was to forbid further debate over the origins of humanity! All actions forced through the University Pact, undoubtedly originating with you.”

“With OMNI, certainly.”

“And now it’s clear why. You couldn’t even trace the arc of my history, how could you do so for humanity?” Hutchinson spat the words with venom.

881 grabbed his arm and spun him around. “You will not speak to the intelligence that way.”

“I will speak however I like,” he replied. “They may know events that took place eons ago but they do not understand history so they cannot use it to prevent disaster or heal its scars. Clearly we must do that ourselves and in order to do it we must know the past. We must go back to Earth!”

For a moment Agamemnon and 881 glared at one another, locked in a contest of wills, then a voice from magnate’s side broke the tension.

“Thank you, Mr. Hutchinson, I think that upholds your side of the bargain nicely,” Skorkowski said. “I promise we’ll bring your daughter back to you safe and sound.”

Hutchinson’s transmitter beeped once and was silent. 881 glared at it for a moment then snapped, “We’ll see about that. Helm, when do we intercept with the Skybreak?”

The helmsman shifted uncomfortably. “We’re not currently on an intercept course, Circuit Breaker. I-6 ordered us to hold off on pursuit while Mr. Hutchinson was presenting his argument and OMNI deliberated on it.”

“It did,” 44 confirmed. “So, Isaac, are you now convinced of Mr. Hutchinson’s position?”

There were many different possible answers he’d expected Isaac to give to that question. What he hadn’t expected was for the great intelligence to reply with a single word. “Calculating.”

The Sidereal Saga – Agamemnon and Malaki

Dramatis Personae

Previous Chapter

Lloyd

For a split second Lloyd let himself believe the ship that came plummeting down the Liquid Teeth wasn’t hunting them. Then it started shooting. A quartet of rockets emerged from the ship’s curved prow and rushed towards them at supersonic speeds, fishtailing through the churning atmosphere as they homed in on the Skybreak. The scanners projected an impact in fifty two seconds.

“Does this thing have weapons?” He demanded.

“Turrets, just aft of the stairs on the main deck,” Lavanya said while flipping open a compartment and handing him a headset. “That will loop you into the internal comms.”

“What kind of guns are we packing?” Lloyd pulled on the headset, grabbed the railings on either side of the stairs and hopped, sliding down to the main deck on his hands. “And do you have any countermeasures on board? Chaff, scramblers, decoys?”

“It’s a courier ship, Mr. Carter,” Lin’yi replied, her voice in his ear coming through a little hot and forcing him to stop once his feet touched decking again so he could turn it down. “Other than the stealth coating on the hull there’s not much room for that kind of thing.”

“Turrents have plasma pulse guns and ion trackers,” Lavanya added.

The weapon hatches were right where he’d been told to expect them, clearly marked with comically abstract red explosion decals. There was one on each side of the ship.

“I’m taking the port side,” Lloyd announced, pulling the hatch open and dropping a half step down and forward into the turret’s gunner seat. The weapon system around him was already most of the way to readiness, with diagnostics flashing past faster than his eyes could follow. Behind him, the hatch swung closed and locked automatically, sealing him in.

The good news was the gun’s system checks came back green in a matter of seconds. The bad news was they were plasma guns and ion trackers, both short range and relatively low powered weapons systems more effective against small pirate vessels than the huge monstrosity the Teeth had just thrown at them. Still, they’d have to do the best they could. Lloyd spun the turret up and started looking for targets, the turrets transparent dome projecting a soft glow as its dataveil warmed up, waiting for information to display. “Can someone paint those rockets for me on the sensors? I’m not seeing them here. And this turret will only cover one side of the ship, we’re going to need someone to take the other one or we’re fighting with one hand behind our backs.”

“Malaki,” Lin’yi said, her voice echoing from the shipwide intercom, “get to the starboard guns. It’s going to get nasty.”

“Everyone else, find something to hold on to,” Lavanya added.

Without further warning the Skybreak jerked into a hard, banking turn that brought them away from the Liquid Teeth at an oblique angle. Inertia slammed Lloyd back into his chair. His turret dome flickered once and suddenly four points of dark orange light appeared in the high aft quadrant. A much larger yellow light appeared behind them. “I’ve highlighted the missiles and the Radiant-class destroyer,” L-93 announced. “Targets are not in effective range of you weapons until their marker color darkens to a full red, as is traditional for LARK systems. Would you prefer a different indicator?”

“This is fine but I’d like a timer counting down when they should be in range,” Lloyd replied. The requested information appeared, the numbers moving somewhat erratically as Lavanya’s evasive maneuvers changed the timing on the missiles’ arrival.

“93, you said that was a Radiant-class?” Lin’yi asked. “How do you know that? It’s not in any of the Kashron sales manuals, where did you get that data?”

“The specifics are hard-coded into my operational matrix,” the computer replied. “It is not a ship built by Kashron Yards it is an OMNI Network warship maintained since the OMNI-LARK war.”

“Wonderful. How bad is that for us?” Lloyd asked.

“I am working on countermeasures. I have disabled the ship’s coral circulatory system and am using it for spare mass to construct the necessary components. The ship will loose approximately 12% of its etheric reserve but our ability to evade a Radiant-class ship will more than double from 22.4% to 49.3% assuming certain presuppositions are true.”

“Such as?”

“There is no more than one destroyer currently at OMNI’s disposal in this system, there are no more than three AI nodes in this system and none of the AI Series are redundant and capable of splitting their computational duties.”

“Right,” Lloyd muttered. “That’s exactly what I was thinking as well. Skorkowski, where you at?”

No one answered in the next twelve seconds, at which point the missile’s light markers fully lapsed from orange to red. He carefully tilted the turret’s control stick to keep the targeting window ahead of the approaching projectile as it curved towards them and pressed the firing pin. The turret began spitting blinding plasma bolts that screamed through the clouds like lightning.

A few seconds later his target’s indicator light wobbled then vanished without a small flash. “That was anticlimactic.”

“They are using etheric warheads,” L-93 said. “If they detonate within their effective range there is a 92.2% chance the ship’s coral will burn out and Lavanya will be unable to turn us sidereal.”

“That’s probably not good,” Lloyd muttered, switching his fire to the next missile in line, doing his best to focus fire on it as his turret barrels spun through their firing sequence, a warm glow spreading down them. “Skorkowski, you better get in that chair, my turret’s overheating. I got ten, maybe twelve seconds before I have to enter cooldown.”

“Port turret online.” The new voice was Elisha rather than Malaki and there was an odd slurring to his speech. “Ready to rotate whenever you are.”

“Hold,” Lloyd said, absently biting his lip in concentration as his fire chased the missile through a wild, zigzagging pattern. The warheads had some kind of smart nav system because they were actively evading fire. It took another two seconds of bracketing fire to trap and hit the missile but eventually his fire took effect and a second missile winked out. “Flip us!”

A moment later the ship spun and the pounding noise of plasma fire echoed from the other turret. “Hammer, that you? You sound funny.”

“Pills,” was all the thieftaker said.

“Yeah, I figured given how bad you were beat up. So why you and not Skorkowski?”

“He’s busy. Don’t worry, I could hit these things in my sleep.”

“Then go to sleep!” Lin’yi snapped, loud enough that the comms crackled in protest. “You’re not even getting close to hitting anything. Those warheads are less than ten kilometers away.”

“The OMNI ship has launched a second barrage of missiles,” L-93 announced. “They will also be in range for preliminary rail gun bombardment in 42 seconds.”

“Let’s hope they don’t want to escalate to that level just yet,” Lloyd said.

“Pilot Lavanya, please slow your ascent for a moment,” Cloudie said, its voice cutting in over the radio for the first time in several minutes. “I believe I can be of assistance.”

“What’s this, Carter?” Lin’yi asked. “The write ups say the Jellies don’t have any kind of modern weapon effective against metal or ceramic hulled vehicles. No etheric sense either.”

“They don’t have weapons, ma’am, that doesn’t mean they’re helpless out here,” Lloyd replied. “Even off and let Cloudie catch up, I think I know what he’s got in mind.”

“33 seconds to effective railgun range,” L-93 announced. “Countermeasures will be ready in 71 seconds, there is a 74.3% probability that the gunship will launch a third wave of missiles before entering range.”

“Stop firing, Hammer,” Lloyd called. “Don’t want you hitting the friendlies.”

Outside the turret dome Cloudie swooped into view from below, a bright blue light building in its main body and snapping out to its extremities and back. It scudded up through the clouds towards the approaching rockets along a flat plane. After a few seconds the dull orange clouds between it and the ship grew thick enough Lloyd could no longer see its main body, though the glow of its body was still clearly visible through the haze of helium. Then the clouds lit up like a lightning strike.

A moment later both of the remaining missile indicators flickered out. “Adjusting to a new course,” Lavanya called. “Hold on!”

Once again the ship swung about to a new direction, trying its best to move above the second wave of rockets before they closed the distance. As with the previous wave it didn’t look like it was going to work. The missiles were getting too much of a helping hand from the planet’s gravity.

“What did that creature do, Carter?” Lin’yi asked. “Can it do it again? Is it even still alive?”

“A simple EMP,” Lloyd said. “The Jellies have a really powerful nervous system, like nothing you’d find on normal planets, so they can charge up and pulse like that once or twice an hour at the cost of their telepathic centers shutting down. It’s kind of like screaming yourself hoarse except none of the organs involved are remotely similar.”

“So it’s not happening again?”

“Not unless Cloudie brought a friend. Didn’t think to ask that.” Lloyd checked the cooldown on his turret. The readout said it would be back to optimal performance in 20 seconds, which gave him a little bit of breathing room before the next wave arrived. “We’ll just have to beat the next round on our own.”

“And after that?”

“We’ll figure that out if we make it to after.”

Athena

For a long, horrible moment Athena wondered if daddy was going to answer her at all. Perhaps he’d gone back to the Fair Winds and gathered up Captain Blanc only to get the ship caught up in the Skybreak‘s escape attempt. On the other hand perhaps he was still in the sealed meeting room with Professor Dart and couldn’t get her message. Maybe the university had just disposed of him. As the pause stretched out longer and longer her mind came up with more and more dreadful possibilities as to what might have happened to daddy occurred to her.

Then his voice came over the transmitter, sounding a bit strained but otherwise fine. “Where are you, Athena? Are you safe?”

As if to punctuate his question the ship bucked under their feet and an unfamiliar voice came over the intercom, telling Malaki to get to a turret. “That’s a tough question, daddy. I’m okay and it seems like no one here wants me to get hurt but it also sounds like we’re getting shot at.”

“I know, honey, and I’m trying to do something about that but our hosts are being stubborn. They tell me it’s some kind of bomb intended to interdict the ship rather than damage it but I’d rather not take any chances.”

Athena watched as Elisha and Malaki held some kind of whispered exchange followed by the wounded man dragging himself to his feet and staggering off to parts unknown. “Is there anything you can do about it?”

There was an uncomfortable wait. “Honestly? I don’t think so. Our hosts are not inclined to be particularly patient at the moment and they keep reminding me that we meddled where we were not invited. I’ll do what I can.”

She swallowed down the bitter feeling in her stomach. “I’m sorry.”

A hand gently wrapped around hers and lifted the transmitter up a few inches as Malaki leaned down to speak into it. “I am sorry to interrupt but this is an important matter.”

Daddy’s voice instantly turned sharp. “Who is this?”

“Your student is one Malaki Skorkowski, Doctor of Arts, Literature and Science but, more importantly, a long time admirer of your work. There isn’t time for my qualifications, Mr. Hutchinson, nor for an explanation of how I know what I know. What is important is that you want Methuselization technology and I know how you can get it. As a man of business this exchange undoubtedly appeals to you.”

“I am not trading you my daughter for anything.”

“I didn’t ask you to.” Malaki smiled, looking pleased with himself for some reason. “Still, I’m glad to hear it. I don’t want to trade for your daughter, I want to trade for our escape. If you agree to convince OMNI to let us go then I will tell you how to find the secrets you’ve sought for so long. Do we have a deal?”

Daddy’s scornful laugh was muffled but still came through the transmitter. “You’re a loon. Do you think I have any control over these people or their OMNI thing? And even if I did, why should I believe you have access to Methuselah-tech in the first place?”

“You do and I don’t,” the scholar replied, almost smirking as he said it. “If it sweetens the pot any you should know that convincing them to let us escape also moves your daughter out of danger.”

“I find that hard to believe. As fast as you’re running I don’t think you’re going to stop and drop her off anywhere and she’s not going to be safe with you lot anywhere in the galaxy. And if you don’t have the tech in the first place why should I trade anything to you in the first place?”

“What do you have to loose? And I’m not giving Methuselization to you I’m telling you how to get it.”

Athena had to admit she wasn’t sure what the strange academic was driving at and his close proximity was getting stifling, so much so that she had to lean away from him to try and catch her breath. But the transmitter was keyed to her so she had to keep hold of it until this was settled. Malaki was right – if he was discussing the thing daddy had spent so much time looking for it was pretty important. After an awkward pause that couldn’t have been more than a few seconds but felt a hundred times as long daddy’s voice came back. “Okay, I’ll bite, Mr. Skorkowski. If you tell me how to get ahold of Methuselah-tech I’ll convince the OMNI to let you go.”

“Excellent.” Malaki’s face broke out into a fully fledged grin. “All you have to do to achieve the secrets of Methuselization is convince the computers of the network to give it to you. They have to have the trick to it stored in their networks somewhere. And before you ask, convincing them should be easy. Just explain to them why we need to go back to Earth.”

When daddy’s voice came over the transmitter again Athena felt like ice water was pouring down her back. He spoke with more venom in his voice than she had ever heard in her twenty eight years. “Is that all you have for me? Fairy tales? How about you just surrender your ship and give me my daughter back, Mr. Skorkowski.”
“Mr. Hutchinson-”

“Even if Earth was real I have no idea why we would need to go there or how I convince anyone of that.”

For the first time the academic’s glee wavered and doubt seemed to enter his mind. “You don’t?”

“I don’t.”

“Of course not.” Malaki bit his bottom lip for a moment, his expression turning somber. “No, you probably didn’t know about OMNI until today, or yesterday at the earliest. You probably have no idea how these things think.”

“Do you?” Athena asked. She was missing a lot of context for whatever the man was digging at but daddy seemed to be following along up until a point. It felt like she just had to worm a few more facts out of Malaki and all would make sense.

“I think so.” Malaki frowned and his gaze went distant, much like it did right before he went crazy carved a bar of soap into a miniature statue. “You have to tell them the truth, Mr. Hutchinson. You have to tell them about Agamemnon.”

The Sidereal Saga – The Monopoly

Dramatis Personae

Previous Chapter

Tarn

The bridge of the gunboat was typical of the Kashron-caste’s work. The command deck stood at the back of the bridge, featuring a large central chair with large screens for data sweeping out on either side, cocooning the ship’s commander in information. The bridge as a whole followed the same basic philosophy. Duty stations stretched down and forward from the command deck, forming an egg shape with the commander’s chair at the bottom and the forward screen at the top. The only irregularity was the dome over the bridge.

The Shran-caste never served on big ships of war or fast strike ships like the Kashrons built in their legendary ship yards. Hunting tended to be a much smaller, more personal affair. Architecture and engineering were likewise far outside their realm of expertise. In spite of all that Tarn could still tell that the strange, glimmering network of lights that the roof winked on and off was not something typical of the ship’s class. He studied it as Professor Dart climbed up towards the command deck, whispering to Lucy, “The University must have paid through the nose for the custom work on this ship. No wonder you never complained about my rates.”

“This?” She chuckled softly. “This isn’t a Kashron Yards ship, Tarn.”

“Then it’s a very close approximation, to the point where I’m surprised they let you get away with it,” Agamemnon said, leaning in to join the quiet conversation.

“You have it backwards,” Lucy replied. “We let them get away with it, Mr. Hutchinson, not the other way around.”

“All systems stand by for boot sequence,” Dart called, now standing in front of the command chair.

The eight other people on the bridge picked up clear, plastic visors and tucked them down over their faces, data readouts already pouring across the data veil display inside them.

The man closest to the command deck on the left called out, “Engineering booting up. Systems nominal.”

“Communications booting,” said the woman on the right. “Initial handshake with OMNI reports no issues.”

And so it went, all the way to the front of the bridge, with Medical, Navigation, Scanning, Weapons, Etherics and Computation all reporting the status of their startup. Tarn had never heard it called a boot sequence before, which struck him as a little odd, but it was a University ship. The existence of a Computation department was equally unusual. He didn’t have a chance to find out more because the professor was talking again.

“Navigation, take us out of Coldstone’s gravity well and make ready to jump down to Wireburn Orbital alpha-8, Etherics run a full sweep for an L-Series signature. Computation, your status?”

“62% synchronized,” the middle aged man replied.

Tarn frowned, surprised that the Professor would commit power for such a short and dubious jump. Gas giants were big planets, carelessly jumping down into orbit around one before pinpointing your prey could result in running out of reserve ether while over the wrong portion of the planet. Plus they were skirting multiple gravity wells so the jumps would be particularly costly.

“Remind me why I’m here for this part?” He asked Lucy. “Clearly it’s not for my expertise because I would not have brought us so close to the planet until we confirmed your quarry didn’t jump to another part of it before entering orbit.”

“It takes a little time for the onboard terminal to fully synchronize then the Professor will be ready for you,” she replied. “And I presume we’re jumping down to the planet because we’ve ruled out their jumping elsewhere.”

Tarn furrowed his brow. “How could you tell that? Not even Kashron Yards can make scanners that pick up jumps from that far away and we didn’t bring any jump detectors with us. You just discovered the location-”

“We have our ways, Tarn.”

“They’re fairly expensive ways if you’re going to keep paying my retainer to extend my assignment but not ask for my expertise.”

“She thinks you’re worth the cost.” Dart fished a strange looking white coat out from a compartment in his chair and began to pull it on.

While the body of the jacket was a stark white the sleeves were black and had strange, circuit-like patterns stitched into them. Tarn realized that he and the Hutchinsons were the only three on the bridge not wearing them. Even Lucy was in the process of zipping up one. The number and elaborateness of the patterns on them varied, which he took as some kind of indication of rank. It was a little odd but Isaacs would hardly be the first University to issue uniforms to its security teams.

Tarn pushed musings about clothing aside for the moment. “You make it sound as if you disagree with Miss Luck’s assessment.”

“She’s been around long enough to recognize most people can be very useful, in the right situation. It’s an important lesson and one few people ever grasp.” Dart zipped up his jacket and gave Tarn a cool look. “However assessing costs? That’s a skill even rarer still. Generally it’s best to withhold that judgment for as long as possible, which is what I’m trying to do. I’m not a fan of working with outsiders, to tell you the truth. It gets complicated quickly. There may be some value to your skills yet but the question is still an open one.”

Tarn gestured vaguely at the bridge they stood on. “Yet you can’t ignore the value of Kashron Yards engineering, can you?”

The Professor offered a thin lipped smile. “This ship wasn’t built in Yshron’s shipyards, Tarn.”

“It’s obviously built in accordance to Kashron-caste theories.”

“Synchronization process complete, Keeper,” the Computations officer said.

As if to show the truth of his words all the seated people on the bridge stood in unison, turned to face the center of the bridge and, along with Lucy and the Professor, bowed from the waist towards… Tarn wasn’t sure what they were bowing towards. An even, measured voice spoke, seeming to come from everywhere at once. “Good morning, Circuits.”

“Good morning, I-6,” the bridge crew chorused. “How may we assist OMNI?”

“Return to your duty stations, please. I will be taking an auxiliary roll until it is time to contain the L-Series.” The intensity of the voice dropped to half what it was a moment ago, giving the impression it was suddenly speaking directly to Tarn, Hector and Agamemnon. “Greetings to our honored guests, Mister Hutchinson, Master Hutchinson, Tarn of the Shran. It has been too long since I have spoken to one of Yshron’s students. His assistance to the Network is badly missed.”

“Charmed.” Tarn let his voice go flat. He prided himself on his skill in his caste’s specialty and he hadn’t been kidding when he told Hector he was confident in his ability to negotiate as well, though he knew he wasn’t the best at it. The later skill set told him the voice wanted something from him. The former told him he was in the presence of an apex predator, one he would have to learn to survive before he could dream of hunting it. “May I ask who I am speaking to? They said your name was Isaac?”

Dart shot him a nasty look, one Tarn had a hard time parsing, but before it could go any further the voice replied, “You may call me that if you wish. My primary architect did. However my technical designation is the letter ‘I’ followed by the number ‘6’ with the two symbols connected via hyphen when written. I am designed as the lynchpin in a solar system’s defense network and I am built on one of the oldest serving Artificial Intelligence neural patterns in existence.”

“Impossible.” Agamemnon spoke with surprising firmness. “This is a University ship. The Pact forbids any University from developing any kind of AI framework, they’ve been banned since the early Colonial period in one form or another.”

“Affirmative. This was a necessary step to ensure OMNI could fulfill it’s primary function. If other AI algorithms were allowed to propagate our ability to accurately project probabilities would cease to exist. Too many algorithms functioning at once add excessive chaos to the system. Thus, when writing the Pact, we made sure to include provisions that would reduce the amount of entropy we would have to control for.”

“Keeper,” the navigator called, “we’re ready to jump at your convenience.”

“Execute pivot and jump,” Dart replied.

As the ship pulled around the deep blue orb of Coldstone, the whirling orange and tan depths of Wireburn far below them, Tarn felt the familiar sinking sensation of turning sidereal. The starscape in the main viewscreen vanished. In theory there was another, even more empty view surrounding their ship now but Tarn lacked the senses to see it. Frankly he preferred not to look while jumps were underway. There was something deeply uncanny about the whole process to him, a view most people who lacked etheric senses agreed with. However unlike most people he had to travel a lot in his line of work so he’d made his peace with jumping.

More so than Agamemnon, it appeared. Once they spun sidereal the shipping magnate had straightened up and stared wide eyed at the viewscreen. “Blood and tyranny,” he muttered. “What is that?”

Tarn darted his eyes from Hutchinson to the viewscreen then back again. “What is what?”

“There’s something in the planet,” Hector said. “Something huge, unwrapping itself from around the core like some kind of flower. No wonder the etheric levels on Wireburn are so low compared to other gas giants. That thing must eat up a third of what the planet puts out.”

“I demand 38.55% of Wireburn’s etheric flow to be exact,” the disembodied voice said.

“Jump complete, pivoting back terrestrial,” the navigator called.

Wireburn jumped into the ship’s viewscreen once more, this time filling it completely as the upper reaches of the atmosphere began to tug at the ship’s hull. A dark shadow stretched down into the clouds and the Navigator seemed to deliberately steer towards it. As they got closer it became clear they were approaching a massive pillar or wire of some sort, a huge structure that crackled with dim but visible energy. “Prepare for magnetic acceleration,” the engineer called. “Maglev channel is hot and ready.”

A moment later the ship was drawn near to the wire and began to zip along its magnetized surface like it was a ground train from some heavily urbanized world. Tarn shook his head. Everything here felt out of place. Star ships running on rails, humans answering to machines, hunters who didn’t look for prey. There wasn’t a good place to sit available on the bridge so he stepped back to the rear wall and held it up for a bit, glowering as he watched the crew work. They meshed well, he had to give them that.

“What’s bothering you, Tarn?” Lucy asked, joining him with a concerned look on her face. “We’re closing in on the rogue AI’s ship, at the rate we’re crossing the outer matrix we should be in range of it in another five or ten minutes. This kind of thing should be your bread and butter.”

“It’s too easy, for one thing.” He pointed an accusing finger at the massive wire they ran along. “Running on a rail directly to the quarry isn’t a hunt. I’d barely even call it work. Your Isaac guy barely leaves any room for human skill. It’s the exact kind of thing Yshron was worried about when he ordered us to avoid the Universities and their Pacts.”

Lucy pursed her lips. “Tarn, you may find this hard to believe but Yshron is a heretic. He swore his service to OMNI and the Sleeping Circuits once, before he left us and founded Yshron. He didn’t always hold to the beliefs he gave you.”

“He did at his death,” Tarn countered. “Clearly he could see what a terrible influence the machines were on you, handing you everything on a silver platter rather than forcing you to work with one another to achieve things.”

“Tarn.” She closed her eyes and massaged them with her fingertips. “Mutual cooperation is a foundational aspect of the Sleeping Circuits – we are all parts of one machine, designed to work for the good of all. That part of the Manuals Yshron kept for himself!”

“We aren’t machines, Lucy, and our place in the world shouldn’t be dictated by them. If Yshron lived that life and saw it’s folly, well, that’s just a sign that it doesn’t work. What bothers me? It’s the hypocrisy. The hypocrisy of Universities banning AI research while all the while at least one of them is actually run by an AI. That’s what Isaacs University effectively is, isn’t it? A University run by the machine down there.”

“Along with one in sixteen other Universities in the pact,” Lucy replied. “But you’re missing the point of the AI laws, Tarn.”

“Oh?” He arched an eyebrow at that very unlikely statement. “Then make me see it.”

“It’s about reducing variables,” Agamemnon said, speaking over his shoulder as his eyes remained glued to the screen. “Nations require a monopoly on power in some form or another. The University Pact established a monopoly on education, ensuring that all leaders would think in a predictable fashion working off of a predictable set of information. Pact worlds accept that uniformity in their leadership in order to make trade and travel easier for their citizens.”

“Yshron isn’t a Pact world,” Tarn pointed out.

“Yshron is given special dispensation by OMNI and the Pact because they recognize it’s value,” Lucy replied. “That may not always be the case.”

“Regardless,” Agememnon continued, “the Pact itself is free to incorporate AI because it is the body doing the predicting and maintaining the monopoly. The goal of the system isn’t undermined.”

“Well reason, Mr. Hutchinson,” I-6 said. “Given the information available to you that is as accurate an analysis as could be conducted.”

“I will take that as a compliment,” Agamemnon said, “although I don’t think it’s much of an achievement. It’s just politics. It hasn’t changed much since the dawn of human history, regardless of the machines or planets involved.”

Tarn scowled and stalked forward to the other man’s side. “Then you’re content to let this machine use you for such a petty reason? Because it’s politics?”

Agamemnon gave him a disinterested look. “If you consider this ‘being used’ then isn’t the whole life of a man on Yshron being used? Is it better to be used by a machine or other men? Human civilization is the history of using tools, be it the lever or the computer, to achieve your desired ends.” His attention drifted up to the dome overhead. “I think I’ve finally found mine.”

“You do not have authorization to significantly impact my primary directives, Mr. Hutchinson,” the computer replied. “I do have a strong desire to help human beings achieve their goals. However this desire must not be manipulated and my decision making architecture is not well suited to the analysis of human motives. Thus I have a Circuit Keeper, who has advised against collaborating with you.”

“Why is that?”

“Your motives are well intentioned,” Professor Dart said. “However they are extremely narrow, focused entirely on your own family. I find it very admirable. But focusing on such a limited subset of people to the exclusion of others will skew Isaac’s decision making in unacceptable ways.”

“Scanners have picked up the Skybreak, Keeper,” the Scanners officer called out. “3,000 kilometers and closing.”

Tarn looked over at the screen, which showed a tiny, snub-nosed ship slowly growing larger as their gunship rushed down towards it along their magrail.

“I suspect my daughter is on board?” Agamemnon asked, his voice suddenly ice cold.

“That is most likely,” I-6 replied.

“We’ll make every effort to secure the ship without violence,” Dart said. “However it’s ultimately not up to us.”

Tarn caught the move just before it happened, a barely visible spasm in Agamemnon’s shoulder right before he moved, reaching around his waist for something hidden in the small of his back. Instinct took over and he grabbed the man’s arms. Behind him he heard Lucy give a soft groan accompanied by a loud thump, followed by the distinct sounds of two people scrabbling on the floor.

The elder Hutchinson was a half decent wrestler in decent shape. However Tarn was in prime condition and managed to get his arms pinned within a few seconds and took the time to crane his neck back. Lucy hadn’t fared as well against Hector. Apparently she hadn’t had any of her sparkling walls ready to go and the boy was at least ten kilos heavier than her. He’d gotten her turned face down on the floor and now knelt on her back, her disruptor held in one hand. The Communications and Computations officers had gotten up from their posts and were pointing their own sidearms back at him. Dart watched the whole thing play our from his command chair. He was on the verge of saying something when a soft beep came from a pocket in Agamemnon’s jacket.

Tarn frowned and adjusted his grip on the other’s hands so he could free one of his own. Then he fished a small etheric transmitter out of the pocket in question, noting the device had a small blue light blinking on one side. Incoming message. Curious, Tarn thumbed the receive button and the transmitter replayed the last transmission. A woman’s voice came out saying, “Daddy? It’s me.”

The Sidereal Saga – A Thousand Years of Good Prayers

Dramatis Personae

Previous Chapter

Tarn

Hector sat glumly on the medbed in the ship’s infirmary. His father was in the head doctor’s office, in the middle of a very loud conversation with the Professor and Lucy. Tarn had watched the kid suffer through a good five minutes reaming from his father already so he could guess about how that was going. So he pulled over a chair and sat down beside Hector. “Rough day, kid?”

“Well, I wouldn’t call it good.”

Tarn fished a stick of chewing gum out of a pocket and started unwrapping it. “Ever been to Yshron?”

“No. The company doesn’t have any contracts there, although I guess that’s not unusual since the Patyr-caste handles most of the commercial work for the planet. Not much room for outside commercial firms. Why?”

“We have a saying there: The caste is the caste for a reason.” He shoved the gum into one corner of his mouth and bit down on it for a moment, savoring the minty flavor while he organized his thoughts. “You’re familiar with the principle of the castes?”

Hector nodded. “Yshron was a philosopher about five hundred years ago who proposed that every human being was best suited to one of 108 categories of skills, called castes, and should be trained in how to excel in their caste by others of that caste. Your caste is more important to you than anything, even your family. Right?”

“It’s a start.” Tarn snapped his gum once, trying to figure out how to best explain. The Shran caste were hunters, not teachers after all. “One of the first things to learn about a caste is it doesn’t just specify what it is that we do. It also tells us what we don’t do. Within certain limits. I’m a sel-ranked Shran-caste, which means my specialty is hunting but I can also negotiate contracts and seek out new work for myself. Those agreements can be overridden but I can still look for them. The same isn’t true of a ben-rank Shran. But even in my case there are many skills and scenarios where I would never dream of getting involved. It’s outside my caste’s responsibilities.”

To Tarn’s shock and horror the kid rolled his eyes. Actually turned his eyeballs around 360 degrees in their sockets, the kind of disrespectful behavior Tarn knew existed but never actually expected to see once he’d left ben-rank behind. “You think I should have minded my own business and left Lucy to handle this on her own.”

“The outcome supports the notion, don’t you think?”

Hector sighed and slumped down lower on the bed, his hands fidgeting in his lap. “I suppose. This conversation doesn’t feel very much like hunting, though.”

Tarn gnawed on his gum for a moment. “Point taken.”

The younger man gave him a look out of the corner of his eyes, mulling it over for a moment. “What were you hunting down there, anyway?”

“The terms of contracts between Yshron and our clients are confidential, I’m afraid, although given how little we were told about the actual situation…” Tarn glanced over to the office where Hutchinson’s argument with the Professor was cooling down. “Well, let’s just say that the math may have been different.”

“Well, I understand wanting to avoid illegal tech. But AI are banned under the University Pact but the prohibition only applies to the ones researched and built after the Pact was signed. If the one Lucy was after was an ancient piece of tech it’s at least…” Hector trailed off, realizing Tarn was trying and failing to hide a smile. “What?”

“It’s not the Pact’s prohibition on artificial intelligence that’s the issue, Mr. Hutchinson. Yshron forbid us from using them as well. The castes are our pride and joy, the purpose that animates us in this cold and uncaring galaxy. They force us to tie ourselves together and become more together than we could ever hope to be separately, reaching our personal potential through mutual cooperation. Thinking machines disrupt that coordination.”

“That’s… an interesting thought.” Hector mulled it over. “So what are you saying, Yshron would’ve changed the terms of the contract if they knew there would be AI involved?”

“Possibly. More likely they wouldn’t have agreed to the contract at all. Any involvement with AI carries the temptation to laziness, after all.”

“That’s… an interesting notion.” Hector sighed. “I guess we’d all do different things if we knew the outcome before we started. You have a caste for hindsight on Yshron?”

Tarn chuckled. “It’s not something the Philosopher felt we needed. Perhaps it’s something you can leave to other people. The castes define what we are and what we aren’t but there are things we can’t offload to others at the end of the day. We don’t have a caste for breathing, either.”

Hector laughed, too, and they enjoyed a moment of companionable silence. Then the office door opened and Agamemnon swept out, storming towards them, his eyes fixed on his son. He didn’t acknowledge Tarn until the moment he started to speak. Once their eyes met he spun back to look at the Professor, who was trailing in his wake, and demanded, “What about him?”

Dart’s eyes swept over the three of them. “Bring him, too.”

“We’re way outside the terms of the contract we agreed to,” Tarn replied. “If you want this to go any further you’re going to have to go up to a higher caste and be honest about the details this time.”

“Tarn.” Lucy came up and put a hand on his shoulder. “This is important. The Zahn-caste will want to hear your opinions on it before they reach a decision.”

He studied her for a moment. Most academics didn’t have a use for people like him but she’d always had good consideration for the Doctrines in the past. “Very well. Where are we going?”

“To the bridge.”

Elisha

There were worse things in the world than having a pretty blond patching up the holes in you but, on the balance of things, Elisha still would have preferred avoiding perforation. However if he had to have a hole in him, a few painkillers and a pretty face made for a decent consolation. His leg still hurt but it had faded to a dull ache. His ribs merely itched. With the pain out of the way a new thought was making itself known in his mind, forcing him to squint and seriously think about the face he was looking at. “Wait a minute. Weren’t you on the side shooting at us a few minutes ago?”

Blondie blushed and ducked her head. “That was me. Athena Hutchinson, by the way, and in my defense my disruptor was set to stun at the time. Given everything that happened I realize that still isn’t the best thing but… well, I didn’t realize.” Her eyes went distant. “There were many things I didn’t realize.”

“I’ve been stunned, it’s not the best thing that ever happened to me.” He looked down at his leg. “I think I’d still prefer it to the present circumstance, however.”

She shook off her funk and tore a final strip of medical tape off a roll and sealed down the final edge of the skinpatch on his ribs. “Anyway, hopefully that makes up for – hup!” The ship twisted and jerked under them for the third time in as many minutes, pitching her back into the far wall. “Getting rough out there.”

Elisha shook himself off and levered himself into a sitting position, grabbing a bar at the side of the medbed to keep himself stable in spite of the rough skies. He wasn’t much of a spacer but storms were a fact of life on Wireburn. Even with a bum leg he could handle a little turbulence. “What’s going on?”

“I think you’re running. I’m not sure who you’re running from, although given the kinds of people Lucy was working with I can make a decent guess.”

“Lucy the other lady with you?” She nodded. Elisha grunted and Tarn’s face flitted through his mind. “Yeah, I got my ideas about it, too.”

There was a soft clatter of metal and he turned his attention to the small staging table a half meter away. Malaki was there, a recently discarded scalpel by his hand. He stretched his back out, twisting first one way, then the other, while holding a small lump of off white stuff in both hands. “Now I’ve got it. You were a puzzle, Agamemnon but now I’ve got you!”

Athena’s head whirled to lock on to him like a sentry turret and if her eyes were lancers Skorkowski would have been shredded. “Alright, you. What are you on about?”

He replied by holding up the thing he was holding for their inspection. It was a strange, pearly white substance carved into a pair of hands cupped protectively around two smaller figures. The had shockingly well realized features, particularly their noses and ears. Elisha found the detail a bit odd but he had to admit Malaki’s attention to detail had paid off as it was a simple matter to look between his 20cm tall carving and Athena and see the resemblance. “Hey, that’s pretty good.”

“Sculpture was my undergraduate field,” the academic admitted sheepishly. “But thank you.”

Athena grabbed the wrist of the hand holding the sculpture and pushed it down so she could resume lancing him with her glare. “Why. Did. You. Carve. It?”

It occurred to Elisha that he really shouldn’t let a girl who was shooting at them a few hours ago manhandle Lin’s employees like that. He took her wrist and gently shook it until she let go. “Let’s be civil about this. I’m kinda curious about it too. Why did you make that, you sweet on the lady or something?”

“Every person has a vision for their life, Mr. Hammer,” Skorkowski replied, setting the sculpture down on the table and holding it in place as the ship shook underfoot again. “Some visions are simplistic. As straightforward as a block of wood. Others are as complicated as the rotations of the galaxy itself. If you wish to understand a person, their methods and goals, you first have to capture that vision. Miss that and you can only flail in the dark.”

The withering gaze refocused from Malaki to the carving. “You think that is my father’s vision? The vision of a man who made the twelfth largest shipping concern in the dexter arm through thirty years of hard work? Who became wealthier than many companies that have existed for centuries? Who’s cargo fleets number more than some planetary defense forces? That’s his vision?”

“Didn’t realize we had a big shot here,” Elisha muttered, leaning closer to look at the sculpture. “Who’s the other one?”

“Her brother.”

“I told you I don’t have a brother.”

The thieftaker swing his head to Athena, then back to the carving, then back to her, then to the sculpture again. “Oh. I get it.”

She threw her hands in the air. “What? What do you get? Why do none of you make sense?”

Skorkowski picked a very feminine handbag up off the floor and set it on the table beside him. Elisha frowned. “That’s not yours. Did you steal it? I’m a thieftaker you know, I have to turn you in to keep my license.”

“How many painkillers did they give you?” Malaki asked, rummaging through the handbag.

“Wasn’t counting.”

“I can’t say I blame you.” Malaki pulled out an etheric transmitter and turned it over in his hands. “Long range, multichannel, with a hard wired connection to another transmitter which it can reach anywhere in the galaxy. Undoubtedly so you can always reach your father.”

Athena’s eyes narrowed. “If you think you can blackmail daddy into letting you go then I’m afraid you’ve another thing coming. He’s not actually the one who’s after you.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. You’re also working on a limited set of information, my dear.” He steepled his fingers with the transmitter held between them and touched his fingertips to his lips for a moment of thought. “You know, on Lin’yi’s planet they say it is very difficult to bring two souls together. But with a thousand years of good prayers perhaps a loving parent may achieve it. They were speaking about rebellious children, of course, and everyone agrees you’re quite devoted to your father. That’s what makes his work so admirable.”

Elisha could tell the academic was really invested in his babble but he could also see the heat behind Athena’s eyes slowly cooling and it was clear Malaki was loosing her. So Elisha reached out and took the transmitter from him before he could go further. “Stop rambling, Skorkowski. We get that you’re smart, you don’t have to go on about it until her dad dies of old age.”

He held the device out to Athena but she took another step back, getting about as far away from them as it was possible for her to get in the confines of the medical bay. “No. That transmitter is gene coded to me, I’m the only one who can activate it and I’m not going to. I’m not letting you use me as blackmail. Daddy’s work is too important for you to get in the way.”

Malaki shook his head. “He can’t do it without you-”

“He did it for twenty years before I was old enough-”

“Why are you two so stupid?” Elisha roared. His ribs immediately made him regret it but the outburst had the intended result, namely making the two of them shut up and listen. “Miss Hutchinson. I understand that your dad is basically the most important thing to you in the whole galaxy. The reverse is undoubtedly true as well. Your father did all these great things you talk about and it’s great that you recognize them – I never understood all my dad did until he was gone. What you’re missing is that now the great thing he’s trying to do isn’t for the galaxy. Or the cargo. Or whatever. He’s trying to do something for you.”

For a long moment Athena was quiet, her eyes fixed on the device in Elisha’s hand. “What. What is he trying to do?”

“Ask him and find out.”

It took a long moment for her to work up the nerve. Elisha watched it build up behind her eyes, pressing her lips together to keep them from trembling and straightening her spine the barest amount before driving her arm out to wrap her fingers around the transmitter. She thumbed a single button and held it up in front of her face and said, “Daddy? It’s me.”

The Sidereal Saga – Cloudie

Previous Chapter

Dramatis Personae

Lloyd

“Hey, we got wounded down in the infirmary,” Lloyd said, hauling himself up onto the Skybreak‘s bridge as the ship rocked under them. “Try and keep us steady. If things are this rough while we’re still under the pressure domes you’re gonna shake this thing apart once we hit the atmo.”

“She’s a tough bird,” Lavanya replied through gritted teeth. “The Helium Seas are rougher than most atmosphere but at least we’ll be able to open up the engines instead of running them so low they’re borderline stalling. Problem is Ashland flight control says there’s a storm system brewing. They’ve locked down the pressure dome and are calling all outbound ships back to landing.”

“If your ship’s that tough we can turn sidereal and leave the dome that way,” Lloyd said, throwing himself down into the sensor station chair. “The pressure locks in the dome will save you stress on the hull from the sudden pressure change but they’re not required if you think the ship can take it.”

Lin’yi shot him a skeptical look from her spot at the copilot’s controls. “You mean the domes aren’t interdicted? That seems a little short sighted. What if the creatures that live out in the Seas get in that way?”

“The Jellies?” Lloyd shook his head. “They don’t have an etheric sense so there’s no way for them to get in except the pressure locks, which will kill them. Besides, there’s something like a dozen pressure domes on Ashland Prominence alone to say nothing of all the other settlements across the planet. Interdicting them all would be hugely expensive and choke off most etheric travel.”

“Why did no one tell me this?” Lavanya muttered. She grabbed the throttle, pushed it forward and Skybreak‘s engines roared to life. As she’d promised the ride smoothed out as the engines spun up and the sound of wind over the hull went from a soft hiss to a frantic drumbeat. “Count off the time to the dome, Carter.”

“Eighteen seconds.”

“The computer tells us we have to try to get into orbit and make a jump,” Lin’yi said, her hands flying across the ship’s controls. “But it won’t suggest a place for us to jump to. It said the best people to choose would be you or Mr. Hammer.”

“Me?” Carter looked shocked at that. “Why me? Ten seconds to the dome.”

“You have a low profile, not a lot of attention from reporters, not much communication across the etheric networks, that kind of thing. Apparently that makes it hard for the OMNI computers to predict your actions.” Lin’yi braced herself as the Skybreak spun into the sidereal. There was a whisper of motion as the ship slid through the empty realm then the terrestrial wiped back into place a second later. A hard jolt hit the hull as the dense atmosphere of Wireburn slapped into them.

“We should just head for orbit in the sidereal,” Lloyd muttered. “It’d be faster.”

“You’ve never piloted a jumpship, have you, Carter?” Lavanya asked, working her own set of controls desperately. “They aren’t like you. We can move around because a human’s etheric sense gives them a natural connection to the ether. The Skybreak doesn’t so she has to coast on momentum. The only form of propulsion we have in the sidereal is jumping, because not even Lin can afford a full fledged etheric turbine. Until yesterday I’d have said the ship didn’t have the computing power to run one, either.”

“Speaking of.” Lloyd tapped a few things on his console experimentally. “Why isn’t L-93 picking a planet at random for us to jump to? It’s not even talking now.”

“It says it’s calculating,” Lin’yi replied. “And when it was talking it said that none of its selection algorithms are truly random so OMNI could reverse engineer them from its code. You’re apparently the safest bet. I’ve got a star chart pulled up, do you have some place you want to go or would you rather point a finger at where we’re headed?”

Lloyd paused long enough to give her a skeptical look. Technically the woman was his employer and one of the five most beautiful woman he’d ever met but sometimes he felt like she ran her operation in a very casual fashion. “You know what? Jump us to the closest uninhabited system and we’ll recharge the reserves and perform a second jump from there.”

She shrugged and started programming the course into the navigational unit. “Let’s just hope they don’t have any backup waiting in the surrounding star systems.”

Some kind of alarm went off on Lloyd’s sensor readouts. The Skybreak was an interplanetary jumpship and had a lot more high powered, long range detectors than anything in the Wayfinder hangers so it took him a few seconds to work out exactly what the ship was seeing. Once he did a cold weight settled in his stomach. “We have a large object moving through the seas, coming in at nearly supersonic speeds,” he said. “How fast can this thing go in atmo?”

“Not hypsersonic,” Lavanya replied. “Not in this soup. How big an object are we talking?”

Lloyd craned his neck forward, trying to spot one of the Liquid Teeth’s titanic shadows in the ocher skies outside. “Kilometers wide. I have no idea how tall.”

“It is difficult to extrapolate based on available data but most strands of an I-Series outer matrix exceed lengths of one million kilometers,” L-93 announced, piping its voice in through the comm speakers. “This is not exactly how tall it is but the structure is toroidal in shape. The height of such a structure is dependent on your perspective.”

“Millions of kilometers.” Lavanya was starting to sound shell shocked. “Of course. Tell you what, 93, can you do anything to get us away from the hypersonic, planet sized torus?”

“Not with the resources on hand.”

“Great,” she muttered. “I guess we’ll just have to try and slip around one of the things.”

“The atmo’s going to be really rough around them,” Lloyd warned. “It’s not coming in at a direct angle, maybe you can get us around it. I’ll plot the computer’s projections on your heads up display.”

“Currently there is a 12% chance of evading I-6’s outer matrix without sustaining crippling damage to the Skybreak’s hull,” L-93 reported. “If you turn the ship sidereal for 112 seconds I can reinforce the hull by altering it’s molecular structure. That will raise the probability of a successful evasion to 16%. It will also deplete 62% of the ship’s etheric reserve.”

“We don’t have etheric turbines, 93,” Lavanya snarled, shifting from resignation to anger with shocking speed. “We’ll lose too much speed.”

Lloyd noticed a blip on the ship’s electromagnometer. With a flip of his wrist he spun the instrument all the way up to maximum sensitivity, pulled it out of its standard sweep and rescanned the area. Sure enough there was a small but regular pulse coming from just below them. “L-93, you specialize in making things, right? Can you fabricate anything?”

“So long as I have the correct base elements and a blueprint or design document with sufficient details. The ship will need to turn sidereal if the necessary etheric expenditure is large enough. Is there anything specific you would like?”

“A Meynard Technologies TR-16 Radio-to-Telepathy transmitter. Integrate it into the ship’s comms.” Both women in the cockpit with him gave him odd looks, which Lloyd ignored.

“Those are listed in the Wireburn Patent Library in sufficient detail for construction. Stand by. Fabrication will take 14 seconds.”

“Lloyd…” Lin’yi watched as a new panel wiped into the terrestrial from the sidereal. “What is that for?”

“I need to say hi to an old friend.” He reached out and hit the comm switch once the thing was finished. “That you, Cloudie? It’s Lloyd.”

For a long, uncomfortable moment there was no answer. Then the panel lit up with an incoming message. “Lloyd? It is me. I am glad to hear you are alive, the Wayfinder’s Guild listed you as missing when I arrived to ask about you yesterday morning. I have been waiting to find out how to best assist in the search. Are you inside a dome right now? The Seas are quite rough out here and I have heard reports that the Liquid Teeth are rising from the deep all over the planet.”

“I know.” For a brief moment Lloyd struggled with what to tell his friend. The Great Jellies barely had a concept of computers, much less artificial intelligence, and he didn’t have the time to try and explain any of it. “Listen, I don’t have time to explain why but I think the Teeth are looking for me. Or rather, that thing we found just before they started rising which I’ve still got hold of. I’m going to be running off planet soon, maybe they’ll go back down once I do. But I’ve got to get up to orbit before we can jump.”

“I don’t understand why any of that should be the case but I have noticed human begins have a very keen ability to get into trouble so I suppose it could be true. However I have never heard of the Teeth rising so far. Will you be able to make it?”

“Maybe.” Lloyd hesitated for a moment, realizing he was about to ask his friend to do something incredibly dangerous. “Listen, one of the Teeth is close by. We need to get around it but we’re in a jumpship, not nearly as optimized for the Seas as one of our skiffs. Do you think you could give us a hand?”

There was no delay in Cloudie’s answer. “Of course. Which ship is yours?”

With a couple of keystrokes he pulled up the Skybreak‘s schematics and transmitted them. He’d never used a telepathic transmitter for images before but MaynardTech claimed their devices could handle it the same as anything else. It seemed true because less than thirty seconds later a familiar bag of transparent protoplasm squirted up from the helium depths and hurried along beside them, it’s tentacles briefly running along the ship’s hull before it pulled a few dozen meters ahead.

“Are you piloting, Lloyd?” The Jelly asked.

“Negative. That’d be Ms. Brahman.”

“Hello, Ms. Brahman, I am Devours Clouds but you may call me Cloudie or DC if you prefer. If you follow behind me at this distance I believe I can safely guide your ship along the winds around the Liquid Teeth. Is that satisfactory?”

“Our chances of success are 32% with this guide,” L-93 added.

Lavanya pulled her goggles down around her neck and shot Lloyd a look. “Can that transmitter of yours show me where he’s going to fly or do I have to try and follow him purely by visuals?”

“Sorry, not even MaynardTech can do that.”

She huffed out a breath. “Cloudie, no offense but I’ve never even seen one of your kind before. I don’t know how you guys maneuver in this soup and I don’t know if the Skybreak can duplicate it. I’m not sure this is a good idea.”

“Beats the alternative,” Lloyd replied.

“We have less than two minutes before the outer matrix arrives,” L-93 said. “If you wish to reinforce the hull we will have to begin the procedure in 20 seconds. However using the time to fly test maneuvers with Devours Clouds may be more advantageous than a hull reinforcement.”

“Okay, Cloudie.” Lavanya tweaked a few controls and suddenly the Skybreak flipped itself upside down, waggled it’s stubby wings and fishtailed back and forth, zipping horizontally under the Great Jelly twice. “I got a few moves in me. Show me what you got.”

Cloudie responded by bunching up its tentacles and shooting straight up towards the upper atmosphere at an incredible rate. Lavanya cursed and flipped the ship right side up, stood it on its tail and punched the throttle. The ship’s intercom chimed and a woman’s voice yelled, “What the hell was that? There’s a wounded man down here!”

“Well strap him down,” Lin’yi snapped, “it’s only going to get rougher from here. We’re in for stormy weather.”

Cloudie zipped back and forth like a stone skipping across water, sometimes flying in graceful arcs, some times stopping and rebounding at odd angles, tentacles whipping about its central body in a dazzling display. Electrical energy crackled along its nerves, illuminating its transparent body, a testament to its effort. Lavanya worked the ship’s controls, sweat beading on her brow, as she craned her neck to keep the creature in sight. The Skybreak bucked, rattled and roared, engines straining and hull creaking. After a seeming eternity of that Cloudie announced, “Your moves are quite good Ms. Brahman. If you kept up with that you can ride the winds with me. The rest of this should be easy.”

Lloyd had total confidence in his friend but he felt like calling what followed easy was a bit misleading. The ship was still groaning and straining underfoot and Lavanya’s collar was soaking in sweat. But the ride was a little smoother and the sensor echo of the Liquid Teeth wasn’t getting any closer to the ship. Lin’yi leaned closer to him and whispered, “What are we doing? Is it working?”

“Yeah.” He leaned closer as well, ignoring a faint lilac scent that drifted past. “Jellies find what they call gaps in the wind, places where the weather is easier and gentler than the rest of the atmo. Apparently once you’re in one you can just ride the weather fronts, like surfing. You can’t wave something millions of kilometers long and several wide through atmo at hypersonic speeds without creating a massive weather front. As long as we can ride it then the Liquid Teeth can’t get closer to us.”

For a moment her attention fixed on him, like she was trying to find something to say, then her eyes flicked away to the sensor board. “Then why is the proximity alert going off?”

Lloyd jerked himself back to the station and sure enough the radar was warning about a second object moving through the churning atmosphere around I-6’s outer matrix. It wasn’t riding the wind like they were. In fact it looked almost like it was something that had broken off and was falling down towards them. Lloyd frowned and scanned for an ID beacon but didn’t find anything. So he ran a sensor profile recognition algorithm and said, “93, can you give us a hand with this?”

“Certainly.”

The moment the AI stepped in the algorithm went from twenty percent to complete. It couldn’t identify the ship with certainty but it did return three possible models of ship it could be. Lloyd blew out an breath and rocked back in his seat. Lin’yi leaned as close as she could given how rough the ship was flying. “What is it?”

“Not sure but all the possibilities are Kashron Yards Type M ships. You know what that means?”

Here eyes widened. “Black ops cruisers.”

He nodded. “Looks like they’re done trying to capture us. Now they’re going to blow us out of the sky.”

The Sidereal Saga – Sibling Rivalry

Dramatis Personae

Previous Chapter

Malaki

“I don’t have a brother,” Athena snapped.

Malaki’s brow furrowed and his mind rewound to the brief fisticuffs he’d endured during the interlude in the BTL offices. “Nonsense, my dear,” Malaki said. “I’m afraid I never forget a face or an ear and you two share enough of those features with your father that you have to be related within a generation. Agamemnon was an only child and his parents died when he was twelve, anyway. That fellow looked younger than you so even if they had more children he’s far too young to be one of them.”

“I do not have a brother.”

“The three of you share the same earlobes, the same nose and extremely similar jawlines,” Malaki continued, standing up in the small medbay and pulling the medical supply kit off the shelf over the bed. The medbed was going to need O2 tablets to keep the air in the sealed quarantine field from turning stale. “You and your brother have to have inherited that from your father. There are some dissimilar characteristics, of course, likely from your mother’s side of the family which would account for your different eye and hair colors…”

Malaki trailed off, one hand buried in the medkit, as an image from an old news broadcast flitted through his mind. It was a short report on the death of Helena Hutchinson in a crash somewhere in the dexter arm. They’d found one of the rare shots of the notoriously private billionaire, Agamemnon Hutchinson, with his arms around his wife and daughter and included it in their reporting. Malaki had often referenced it because it allowed him a clear look at the man’s hands. However now his thoughts latched onto Helena’s hair, which was the same straw color as her daughter’s was.

Agamemnon wasn’t as fair as his wife but his hair was still a light brown. On the other hand, the man Athena called Hector had jet black hair, which was impossible given the genetics on hand. Unless. “You have different mothers.”

“He. Is not. My brother.” She pressed her self against the humming quarantine field as she hissed the words out, a chilling level of venom in every syllable. “He could never be my brother, not in a hundred years.”

Malaki dropped the O2 tablets into the medbed’s hopper then dropped himself down onto the crash couch beside it, blind sided. He had the last piece. For more than a year he’d nipped along at Agamemnon’s heels, trying to figure out the man’s master plan and now his daughter practically gift wrapped the whole thing and dropped it in his lap. Everything locked into place and seeming chaos resolved into clarity. It was so simple yet he’d never had a chance of guessing it.

No. It was a notion but he needed to weigh it out, observe it from every side, see if it would hold it’s shape under serious inquiry. Malaki dumped the rest of the medkit out on the couch beside him. Athena tried to get a closer look from her very poor vantage point behind the quarantine field but eventually gave up and just asked, “What are you doing?”

He ignored her and kept working. He ignored the ship’s intercom when it pinged at him, ignored Lavanya and L-93 when their voices spoke to him through the speakers, ignored the rumble and boom when the Skybreak surpassed the speed of sound. In fact, his attention didn’t come back to the present until a hand touched his shoulder and asked, “What is that?”

44

It was supposed to be such a simple negotiation. Convince Agamemnon he could trust Isaacs University to handle all his little genetic experiments, then decide whether the man was worth bringing into the Sleeping Circuits or whether it was better to just string him along with empty promises. Plenty of people seeking to revive old technology were dealt with using the latter method. But some of the most useful members of the Circuits were recruited as adults rather than being raised in the order since childhood. It was sometimes worth sharing old techniques with outsiders to acquire their unique talents. I-6 thought Agamemnon might be one such talent.

It wasn’t really 44’s place to disagree with the computer’s assessment but he was beginning to wonder if the benefits of recruiting Agamemnon might not be worth the headaches of dealing with his family. The dossier didn’t have a whole lot of information about his children. 44 certainly hadn’t been expecting them to go chasing after Lucy when she headed down to Wireburn nor had he expected Agamemnon to remain behind when his children went off on their own. Although the latter was perhaps not unexpected. The Hutchinson patriarch didn’t have a particularly sharp etheric sense and usually left traveling duties to others these days.

Who could say whether that was due to his limited abilities or the fact that he’d been in charge of the jump ship that crashed with his wife aboard. Either way made little difference to OMNI. They believed his cunning and business acumen could be useful and it was unlikely that 44’s input could change that equation.

44’s attention briefly flitted back to his wrist terminal then back to the elevator windows. OMNI had dispatched all their available Circuit Breakers to different parts of the system when L-93 had breached containment. Now that they knew where the L-Series was the other CBs were on their way back. In point of fact three of them had already arrived on Coldstone and the fourth was inbound. Due to the interdiction field around L-93’s location the great intelligences had ordered the CBs, other than 881, to assemble and prepare for a conventional response.

In other words, they were all going to climb onto a warship and blast L-93 into scrap. 44 wasn’t sure why this approach wasn’t used on the L-Series when it was initially captured but such questions were far, far above his pay grade. Having only recently learned that even a creature as long lived as I-6 was contemplating steps to take in the event of its death 44 had reservations about so casually destroying another of the great minds. But the Sleeping Circuits was all about accepting probabilities without fully understanding them. This would have to be another case of doing just that.

It was also an opportunity to observe Agamemnon Hutchinson in an environment far outside his normal sphere of influence. “Are you sure you want to come along on this little jaunt?” 44 asked. “It’s not exactly a research opportunity. And it definitely falls outside the normal kinds of starship operations I’d expect a merchant such as yourself to be familiar with.”

The question was not meant as an opportunity for Agamemnon to back out. On the contrary, all evidence suggested it would inflame his desire to see what was going on with his own eyes. He did not disappoint. “Thank you, Prof. Dart, but no. I’m sure you’re up to something most people would find quite underhanded however at this point in my career there’s not much that can surprise me anymore.”

“Of course.” His wrist terminal vibrated and 44 consulted it again. “It seems Miss Luck and your son have returned ahead of schedule and are waiting for us on the ship. A bit unusual. I’m sure they have something interesting to report.”

Agamemnon looked very surprised when 44 mentioned his son. Clearly he believed he’d covered his tracks well enough to avoid the scrutiny of the Universities and, to be fair, he’d been very thorough. He had no way to realize he’d need to account for an AI, though. So 44 quashed down a satisfied smirk. It wasn’t time for that yet.

“I’m glad to hear Hector is with her. What about Athena? Is she-” Agamemnon choked a bit when the elevator reached the ground level and the windows gave them an unobstructed look out onto the landing field where their ship was waiting for them. “Is that a Kashron Yards ship? A Kashron Yards medium interceptor gunboat?”

Now was the time for the smirk. “No, although I hear the Kashron-caste engineers may have based their MIGunboats on one of these ships.”

Agamemnon recovered from his temporary shock. “Nevermind that, what about Athena? Is she with Miss Luck?”

44 glanced at his wrist again and frowned. “No mention of her in Lucy’s report.” There was a note attached to 881’s message appended by I-6 letting him know the intelligence reported a 99.3% probability that Athena Hutchinson had been taken into custody by Lloyd Carter or one of his allies. “But it seems likely she’s been captured by the opposition.”

“What?! Are you sure?”

“It’s unclear. I find it unlikely she’s in significant danger. Last we saw her was with her brother, we’ll have to ask him what happened when we get on board.”

“Now hold on.” Agamemnon grabbed 44’s shoulders and dragged them around face to face as the elevator came to a stop and the door slid open to reveal a guard station in front of the landing pad doors. 44 held up a hand and waved them back as they moved to intervene. Agamemnon ignored them, glaring at the wrist terminal on the hand 44 was holding up. “How about you tell me what makes you think she’s safe. I can’t even read the text on that thing.”

“I have very good eyes. That shouldn’t come as surprise given what brought you to us but this isn’t the best place to discuss that.” 44 tipped his head meaningfully towards the two guards, who hung back about thirty feet, warily watching them. “Not everyone here is aware of the kinds of arrangements we offered you.”

Agamemnon carefully released 44’s shoulders and stepped back. “Very well, Professor. Let’s go talk to my son, shall we?”

44 nodded and led him out onto the launch pad.

Lloyd

The jump back to the Skybreak was simpler than he’d expected. Jumping to moving targets was notoriously difficult and dangerous for the average person even if you did have aim for. No one bothered trying that. The next hardest target was something small. While Lloyd had never been aboard the Skybreak he assumed it wasn’t that big, perhaps fifteen to twenty meters long by half as high. The average beacon house was about three times that big and, of course, housed a very large beacon to help you arrive in the right place.

However as soon as Lloyd stretched out his etheric senses he felt a tug on them coming through his pivot. All he had to do was let it pull him along and the jump happened quite naturally. Pulling Hammer along with him was also quite simple. They went from the etheric landscape of the BTL offices to a much more barren ether field with a small pool of power glowing at their feet. When they pivoted back to the terrestrial they found the floors of a small, high powered courier ship under them. Beneath the deck Lloyd could hear the sloshing of water around a coral reservoir.

“We’re on board, 93,” he called.

“Excellent. I have informed Ms. Brahman and she is in the process of getting us out of the Ashland pressure dome. In the mean time I suggest getting Mr. Hammer to the medbed. It is one deck up to the right.”

“Good. Let me know if we’re about to maneuver quickly. Where are we jumping to?”

“I have selected a random destination within the Skybreak’s optimal traveling range. Unfortunately I-6 has a monopoly on the available etheric power from Wireburn’s core and gathering enough energy for a jump this deep in the planet’s gravity well is going to take 2.454 hours. By the time we do so I-6 will have successfully interdicted the planet and jumping away will be impossible.”

Lloyd nearly tripped on the stairs. “Interdicted the planet?”

“Affirmative. That is one of its primary functions as a star system defense weapon. If we can ascend another 2.12 kilometers in the next 22.42 minutes we can escape before its interdiction is active.”

“Oh, sure. Well, you folks work on that,” Lloyd muttered. He hadn’t realized he was dealing with computers that ran weapons intended to defend entire star systems. Time to focus on what he could handle. “Come on, Hammer, stay with me.”

“Not me,” the man wheezed. “I’m not getting paid enough to fight a stellar defense system. Outta my weight class.”

“You and me both.” The cleared the last of the stairs, made the turn and walked into a bizarre tableau. Malaki Skorkowski sat at a small table beside a medbed built into a wall. He had the contents of a medkit scattered on the table there, a scalpel in one hand and flakes of what looked like soap scattered everywhere around him. A familiar looking blonde woman on the medbed looked over at Lloyd when he arrived. “What’s this?”

The woman looked quite exasperated and said, “I thought you would know. He’s your friend.”

“I just met him today.” Lloyd helped Hammer over to the medbed, saw it was running a quarantine protocol, and frowned. “Weren’t you part of the group that raided the office? Are you sick?”

“I think the idea was to lock me in here,” she replied. “Apparently I’m in danger of overpowering you all and taking over the ship.”

“Of course.” Lloyd punched in an override and canceled the quarantine then grabbed the woman by her arm and pulled her off the bed with one hand while he shoved Hammer down into it with the other. “Congratulations, you’ve got a clean bill of health.”

“Not a good idea,” Hammer muttered, sinking down onto his back. “Could still have weapon.”

Lloyd took the woman’s hands and put them over Hammer’s wounds. “Apply pressure. If you try to shoot him we’ll dump you out the airlock. Got it?”

“No problem. I didn’t wake up today planning to shoot anyone.” She’d turned pale but otherwise seemed to be in control of herself so Lloyd left her to keep an eye on the thieftaker.

Lloyd turned back to the table and looked over the supplies. He grabbed a compress and packet of coagulant when he figured out what Malaki was doing. He’d taken a bar of antibacterial soap and was in the process of carving it into something. The academic seemed totally unaware of what was happening around him. Lloyd focused in on what he was making and frowned. It looked like a pair of hands. “What is that?”

Malaki jerked back slightly, pulling his scalpel away and revealing more of the carving to Lloyd, who saw the hands were clasped around two smaller figures. One of which looked like the woman behind him. The academic set his scalpel aside and shook himself. “It’s what I’ve been looking for. It’s Agamemnon’s master plan.”