Star Force 11: Exile Page 4

  When I turned back to Marvin, I noticed he was poised in an unnaturally still position. I would have expected him to be fidgeting.

  “Are you not pleased at my rescue of Star Force personnel?” he asked me. All of his cameras focused on me.

  “Ah—yes, that was good. Every crewman is precious right now. I—”

  “And are you not pleased that I managed to avoid being devoured by an alien predator?” he interrupted.

  “Okay, I have to admit—”

  “I’ve decided to go with you and Valiant when you leave.”

  That was no surprise now that he’d found out the Square was even more dangerous than he’d thought.

  “Great,” I said. “Now—”

  “And—”

  “Shut up and let me talk!” I yelled.

  “There’s no need for hysterics.”

  I glared at Marvin daring him to make a sound. He didn’t.

  “Marvin,” I said, lowering my voice. “Please explain how you retrieved Sokolov, starting with your escape from the beetle-thing a week ago.”

  “A week ago? My internal chronometer shows only thirty-seven minutes have passed from entry window to exit. I should have deduced the time flow difference from the delay of the probe I sent through it several weeks ago. Perhaps if I were to—”

  “Marvin—Sokolov?”

  “I found the human calling himself Sokolov wandering inside the time-continuum beyond the window. Actually, he was inside the multidimensional maze that the windows allow access to. Fortunately he had a pressure suit or I would have had to leave him there. Would that have been the correct decision? Or should I have accepted his death upon exit? Hypothetically, speaking, that is.”

  “You chose correctly. I would have disapproved of your actions if you’d rescued Sokolov but killed him in the process.”

  Marvin cocked several cameras. “Allowing him to die and causing his death are two different things.”

  “Not when you initiate the chain of events leading to that inevitable result. If you knock over the first domino and you know where the dominos lead, you’re responsible for the last one falling, too.”

  “I would like to debate philosophy with you, Captain Riggs, but after a week my power cells are getting low.”

  “Marvin, you just told me you only experienced thirty-seven minutes!”

  “I said no such thing. I stated my internal chronometer shows thirty-seven minutes have passed. Yet my power cells are drained as if I did not refuel for a week or more.”

  Exasperated, I cried, “That’s impossible!”

  “Now you sound like Sokolov. Many impossible things seemed to occur with regularity within the multidimensional maze.”

  I made a sighing, growling sound and waved Marvin away. “Get back to your duties, but please don’t cause any more trouble.”

  “I wouldn’t think of it, sir,” Marvin said. He seemed pleased that I’d released him from standing still on that spot.

  Sometimes I could only take so much of Marvin’s backtalk and scheming. I tried to focus on his good qualities. Marvin provided a check on my ego as he was ingenious and utterly indifferent to my feelings. He was also relatively blind to my rank and position except where it might threaten his goals. Maybe he’d provided Dad with the same service. I bet that was one reason my father had kept him around. Only a fool wants a bunch of yes-men along, though as a commander it was easy to forget that when someone opposed you.

  I forced myself to turn back around and find Marvin again, hoping to get a few more answers. I located him in Engineering talking to Sakura. “Marvin, what was it like inside the window where you retrieved Sokolov?”

  “If I deduce your meaning correctly, the answer would be ‘very confusing.’ A human would be hard-pressed to navigate correctly within the multidimensional maze behind the windows. I was able to do so only because of the many sensors I have incorporated within my body. It took all my processing power to synthesize the readings into—”

  “Yes, I am sure it was an amazing feat of robotic intellect, thank you. What do you think this maze is for now that you have experienced it directly?”

  “While I cannot deduce the Ancients’ original intent, it currently functions as a router, at least partially.”

  “A router. Like in a computer network?”

  “Yes. I believe that given the correct commands, I could access the entire ring network and more. In fact, I sent a short message in a self-replicating viral format while I was inside hoping to contact Star Force.”

  I gaped. “Let’s get this straight. While inside a multidimensional maze built by the Ancients that you can barely understand, you wrote and released a virus? You put malware into an alien cybernetic system? Are you crazy?”

  “Biotics often seem to think so. In any case, the script merely replicates itself and tries to spread in hopes that someone will find it. It does nothing else.”

  “Did it specify where we are? Like, system coordinates or other locational data?”

  Marvin’s limbs rustled, tensing slightly. “In order to achieve the goals I’d hoped for, such data was necessary.”

  “So that means not only Star Force but anyone who comes across that message will know where we are. Did you include anything else? Any other information?”

  Now Marvin’s cameras and tentacles fidgeted, a sure sign I was getting uncomfortably close to one of his crimes.

  “An encrypted data package with a situational summary was included,” he said.

  I slapped my hand on the top of my head. “So you just sent an intelligence overview of our mission and current status into an alien computer-like system that might for all we know span the entire galaxy. Do you see any problem with that?”

  “I would be willing to revise my risk-index assessment upward. But the data is well-encrypted.”

  “Could you break it?”

  “Of course. Given sufficient time.”

  “How much time, Marvin?”

  “Perhaps a month if I used all my neural chains. My encryption was very strong.”

  “When did you send the message?”

  “Shortly after I entered the window.”

  My mind raced. While I knew Marvin was amazingly capable, I could conceive of much more powerful artificial intelligences that might be out there somewhere. A week or so had passed in relative time since he’d sent the message. We might not have a month before someone responded. Then again, whatever found the message—and it was mathematically certain that someone would eventually—might be an incredible distance away. Or they might be close. We couldn’t take the chance. I called Hansen.

  “Hansen, pass the word. Go to watch-on-watch, double shifts, readiness condition yellow. Marvin might have just given us away to who-knows-what.” Then I turned to Sakura, who had been silently watching the alarming conversation going on in her engineering room. “Chief, we need to make a push to get underway. Go to twenty-four hour ops for your engineer’s mates, stims authorized. I want us ready to lift at a moment’s notice as soon as possible.”

  “Aye aye, sir,” she replied and began barking orders to her people. With another subordinate I’d have set an unreasonable deadline to motivate her, but I’d come to know Sakura always did her best with no games and no need to put on the squeeze.

  “One more question, Marvin,” I said to the robot. “Where did those bugs come from?”

  “With billions of planets in this galaxy alone, I cannot—”

  “Stop being so literal. Summarize. Why did they attack you? Did you find their home and provoke them? What was their purpose?”

  “I had no knowledge of their kind before they found me in the maze and attacked me. It is possible one of my many experiments irritated them, or perhaps it was my attractive chassis.”

  “Right. Nice job, Marvin.”

  “I detect sarcasm.”

  “Get used to it.”

  Just then Hansen called. “Skipper, we’ve got a message coming through from the
Raptor ship.”

  “On my way.” I pointed my finger at Marvin. “I need to confirm your answer now. Are you staying or coming with us, Captain Marvin?”

  “I will accompany you. Obviously you need me badly.”

  “You don’t know how badly I feel about needing you, Marvin. Get back to your lab and tear down all the equipment that might give anyone a clue about us. Load it into Greyhound and get her ready for space. You just painted a big fat target on us, Marvin, and yourself in particular. Have you got that through your neural chains? Something may be coming for you again, something scarier than three giant bugs.”

  “The possibility is worthy of consideration, Captain Riggs.” He said this last with a rear speaker as he scrambled for the nearest airlock.

  An appeal toward self-preservation was the best Marvin-motivator I’d ever found, and I’d hit him in the face with it as hard as I could. I had little doubt that the robot would get up and out of the way of any potential threat faster than we did, which was exactly what I wanted right now.

  -4-

  I hustled up to the bridge. “Put the Raptor’s message on the main screen.” I didn’t see any reason for privacy yet.

  The vid popped up showing the Raptor’s military symbol: a stylized striking tail. This wouldn’t be a conversation because their ship was at least a light-hour away, so I sat down and relaxed. After a moment it changed to show a Raptor, a male in military garb displaying a modest number of awards and honors in the form of the colored strings and feathers they seemed to like. I was getting better at recognizing the aliens and was pretty sure I had seen this one somewhere, but I wasn’t sure who it was at first.

  “Greetings, Commodore Riggs,” the Raptor said through the translation software. For better status, I’d assigned myself the rank of Commodore in dealing with them and the designation had stuck. “I am Kreel, son of Kleed.”

  Now I remembered where I’d seen this particular bird. He’d carried the nuke aboard Valiant on his father’s attempt to seize our factory and had decided not to suicide and take us all with him for which I was grateful. I’d ending up killing Kleed in personal combat, which should have settled any debt of honor. I listened further, interested to hear what he had to say.

  “Because of my father’s actions, my mother and sisters have been demoted in status and shunned. Therefore, I find myself with a choice of two paths. One leads to the monastery where my line would end, and my mother and sisters would be allowed to take another name. The other is the path of exile—the path you have taken, Commodore Riggs.”

  I found it interesting that he considered me an exile—from what, I wasn’t sure. My own people? The Panda or Litho systems? Or perhaps his Raptor race had, in essence, exiled me. Maybe they’d done it formally within their political system. I didn’t pay too close attention to the endless intricacies of Raptor bureaucracy. It had become clear after viewing enough translated broadcasts that their society was old and decadent, full of Byzantine betrayal and infighting for all their talk of honor. Most of the birds just used “honor” as a buzzword rather than truly believing in it. Often they really meant “childish pride.”

  A few, like Klak, had really believed in honor. I wondered if Kreel was another who did.

  The video continued. “…I and those with me have chosen the path of exile. It is rumored that you will be departing our system soon for a journey beyond the deadly ring. I ask that you allow us to come with you, Commodore Riggs. We will act with honor. We will swear personal fealty to you and unhesitatingly obey you in all things even unto death.” He held up his hands and set his tail in the Raptor salute. “Hail Riggs.” With that, the message closed.

  I frowned, thinking hard while the bridge crew tapped at their boards and glanced at me from time to time. The offer could be genuine, or it could be some weird vengeance-thing. Maybe the third path to reinstatement of his family would be assassinating me. Maybe he’d been brainwashed or had a gun to his head. Still…my gut said he was playing it straight.

  Hansen raised an eyebrow beneath his bald dome, and I lifted mine back to him. I jerked my head toward the ready room and went over to it, motioning him in and then closing the door. Crossing my arms, I leaned my butt on the small table there. “What do you think?”

  “Makes sense to me,” he said.

  “I’d have thought you’d be cautious.”

  Hansen’s mouth quirked upward. “Maybe I’m trying to throw you off. You expected me to argue against it, which will just make you more likely to take them aboard.” He chuckled. “But in this case I’m actually for it. We could use all the help we can get especially fanatical alien cannon fodder.”

  I shook my head feeling a combination of rueful admiration and macabre amusement. “You’re getting to be a cold son of a bitch in your old age, you know that, Chief?”

  “That’s what you pay me for. You told me you want to hear my opposing views on things, so I don’t have to maintain a fair and balanced viewpoint. I’m a simple guy, Skipper. There’s a hierarchy to these things. We humans come first, and then our longtime allies like Hoon and Marvin. Newly met aliens are last in line on my survival tree. If they want to fight and die for the god-king Riggs, who am I to argue? Let them take the casualties.”

  My instinct was to rebuke him, but I stopped myself because he had a point. I wasn’t going to throw Raptor troops away, but when it came to splitting hairs, Star Force personnel had to take priority—I had command responsibility: a duty to them that was higher than anything I owed these Raptor volunteers.

  I also realized that Hansen was right about the way ahead. I was going to take them into my service because they might be damn useful. Anything that added to my small hoard of resources was good.

  “I think you’re right, actually,” I said at last, enjoying the surprise on his face. “But we’ll stay on guard against any treachery. Make sure you script Valiant to detect anything more dangerous than personal weapons on our new allies—like that belly nuke Kreel had.”

  Hansen nodded, and we left the ready room.

  “Valiant, record a message,” I said, addressing the ship. There was no visible presence nor even a microphone, but our intelligent ships were always listening to us.

  “Recording.”

  “Kreel, this is Commodore Riggs. I accept you and your followers into my personal service. Contact me again as you approach my position. Riggs out.” I paused. “Valiant, translate that and send both the raw and processed version to Kreel’s ship in as narrow a transmission beam as possible.”

  “Processed. Transmission sent.”

  I looked over at Hansen. “Still nothing from either ring?”

  Hansen shook his head. “The Lithos send probes or nukes through the inner one every now and again and so do the Raptors, but there’s been nothing major. The Raptor fleet is still parked there. The Orn Prime super-battle station is still under construction. It should be done in a month or so. In short, no changes.”

  I snorted sarcastically. “Politics. Ironic how they denigrate our battle station strategy that almost saved them—yet they’re building an even bigger one.”

  “Two of them,” he reminded me. “They’ve started on the shell of a second station.”

  “One for the ring, one for the planet?” I asked.

  Hansen shrugged. “Or one for each ring. In any case, they sure like those super-anti-proton projectors we gave them, and they should have their first operational factory working within months.”

  “Anything that holds back the Lithos is good.”

  Another shrug from my exec. If Hansen had a weakness, it was his tendency to focus on the immediate and not see the bigger picture. Like most of the crew, he thought if we got home with information on the Litho threat the potential danger years from now would take care of itself. I had to keep my view wider, as my Dad had. That was part of my command responsibility.

  “Valiant, show me the Square in the holotank.” Soon I looked at a view synthesized from our dron
e patrols and ship’s sensors. I focused in on Marvin, who seemed to be rapidly reorganizing his laboratory setup. Some things he moved and others he replaced or altered while packing even more into crates and sending them on automated mini-rovers to Greyhound.

  I zoomed in on his ship and the pile growing there. Apparently he didn’t trust his bots to load the stuff and probably didn’t have reliable radio control over them within the Square. The haphazard grouping of equipment included some things I was sure were not from Star Force tech or even Marvin-tech, to coin a phrase. I’d gotten pretty good at recognizing Marvin-built things over the last months, but these were odd and alien-looking.

  I knew he’d retrieved things from the windows, and of course he’d want to take them along. Marvin often seemed like a fanboy collector, but he also could be ruthlessly practical. To me that meant most of the gear getting loaded into Greyhound’s limited space had, in Marvin’s mind, the potential to yield knowledge. Or, to put a darker spin on things, maybe he’d already found out what some of it did and hadn’t told me. Nothing I could do about it now, though.

  “Call me if you need me,” I said to Hansen as I reset the holotank to tactical view and then departed the bridge. I spent enough time there on my own watch, and sitting there getting all my information through Valiant and the holotank was dangerously addictive. Running every operation from a chair and a screen—no matter how good the screen was—risked losing touch with the reality on the ground.

  In the corridor, I found Sergeant Moranian standing at parade rest. I suppressed a sigh. Did Kwon not get the message about keeping her busy, or was he screwing with me? “Yes, Sergeant? What is it?”

  “Sir, the marines request your presence in the dayroom.”

  “The dayroom?” That was the troops’ off-duty hangout space where they watched vids, drank beer, arm-wrestled—whatever they couldn’t or wouldn’t do in their cramped bunks or the crew mess.

  “Yes, sir.”

  I didn’t see any of her blushing weirdness this time, so I gestured forward. “Lead on.”