Heart of the Nebula (3 page)

“
As a matter of fact, I
received two messages while you were away. Shall I play them for
you?”

“
By all means,” said Sara
as she slipped out of her clothes in preparation for the shower.
This AI was a lot more personable than the last model—thinking
about it made her realize she hadn’t named it yet.

“
Computer, do you have a
name?”

“
I do not have a
user-specified designation, but my serial number is
NI-9938.”

“
That won’t do,” said Sara.
“Set new designation to…” What name should she give her AI?
NI-99
…

“
Nina.”

“
Very well,” said the
newly-christened Nina. “Playing first message.”

“
Hello, dear,” came the
voice of Sara’s mother. “Why do you always keep your wrist console
turned off when you’re away?”

Sara rolled her eyes and stepped into the
narrow shower unit. Two beeps indicated a break in the message
playback.

“
How would you like your
water?” Nina asked.

“
I can take care of it
manually,” said Sara. “Go on.”

“
As you wish.” Two beeps,
and the message continued.

“
Anyway,” her mother’s
voice returned as Sara keyed the wash cycle. “I just wanted to know
how you’re doing. Call me sometime—it’s been forever since we
talked.”

Jets of pressurized water shot from the
walls, spraying her from every direction. She shuddered at the
initial shock of impact, then raised her arms to let it wash all
over her. The temperature was a little cooler than the default, but
that was fine—after two hours of physical training, it felt
good.

“
Oh, and by the way,” her
mother continued, “I met a nice boy the other day. He just
graduated from the academy here at Kardunash III, and I think
you’ll agree, he’s super cute.”

Sara groaned. Leave it to her mother to set
her up from nearly fifty million kilometers away. She leaned
against the wall of the narrow shower unit and folded her arms,
letting the water pool in the cruxes of her elbows.

“
His parents are well
established citizens of Skye,” the message continued. “Old
money—very respectable. An associate of mine knows them well. The
next time you come to visit, I can easily arrange for you to meet
him.”

Thanks, Mom. For the warning.

“
Anyhow, give me a call
sometime. I love you, dear.”

The message beeped out. Sara sighed and
picked up the scrubber-hose from its slot next to the access panel
and switched it on. Sweet-smelling soap began to ooze out of the
sponge on the end.

“
Message received
approximately one hour and forty-five minutes ago,” said Nina.
“Shall I play the next one?”

“
Yes.”

One beep indicated the start of playback.
“Hello, Sara,” came her father’s voice. “How has your day been so
far? I hope your service at the children’s home went well this
upshift.”

Sara’s stomach sank through
the floor.
That was today?
She had meant to go, but things had just sort of
gotten in the way. Her father would probably think that she was
careless—or worse, a lazy, spoiled daughter.

“
In any case, I’m very much
looking forward to our meeting in two hours. The diplomatic
sub-committee has finalized the delegation, and it passed through
the General Assembly last night. As we agreed, your name is on the
list.”

Sara finished with the scrubber and
reactivated the shower. As the cool water rinsed away the soap
suds, she filled her hands from the shampoo dispenser and began to
wash her hair.

“
In addition to the
diplomatic team, the sub-committee wants me to send a small
military escort to ensure the security of the delegates. It’s
mostly a formality, but I agree with them that it’s a useful one.
This is a dangerous mission, Sara, and I don’t want to take any
chances with your safety.”

You don’t trust me to take
care of myself, Dad?
It wasn’t like she was
a little girl anymore. With a master’s degree in interplanetary
relations, a well-paying job in the diplomatic corps, and a black
belt in Rigelan jujitsu, she was quite capable of looking after
herself.

“
Passenger restrictions on
the
Freedom Star
permit me to send only two soldiers with the delegation,” he
continued, “but I’ve picked ones who should be well up to the task.
They’re coming on a supply convoy, and should arrive within the
hour. I’ll be expecting you at the spaceport as soon as you’re
able. I hope you’re packed already, dear, because you won’t have
much time to do it later.”

Sara wasn’t, but she had no doubt that she’d
be ready before departure. She was a light traveler.

“
In any case, I hope this
message finds you well. Please let me know when you’re on your
way.”

The audio chimed to indicate the end of the
last message. “May I be of service in any other way?” Nina
asked.

“
Sure,” said Sara as she
finished rinsing out her hair. “Give me a rundown of the major
bills and resolutions currently on the floor of the General
Assembly, in descending order by voting deadline.”

“
Very well. Bill 3212R32:
Emergency Powers Amendment. Requires ratification by a two-thirds
majority on all executive orders regarding domestic affairs.
Deadline in approximately two hours. Voting currently stands at
thirty-six percent ‘yea,’ forty-two percent ‘nay.’”

Sara sighed. It seemed that every other
month, some sort of amendment to her father’s emergency powers came
to the floor of the General Assembly. Had the people of the Colony
lost their trust in his leadership, or were they merely discontent
with the pressures of the last few months? In any case, her own
vote was a no-brainer.

“
Nina, set my vote to
‘nay.’”

“
I’m sorry,” said the AI,
“but Colony law forbids me to act as a voting proxy.”

“
Then just take my
thumbprint on the shower’s control panel and treat that as my
vote.” For an artificial intelligence, Nina wasn’t very
bright.

“
Very well. Initiating
imprinting process.”

Sara pressed her thumb against the panel,
then keyed the drying cycle. The water shut off, and a loud vacuum
opened in the drain beneath her feet. A doughnut shaped drier
slowly ran down the cylindrical walls of the unit, blasting her
with hot air. She raised her hands high in the air as the water ran
off her skin and into the recyclers.

“
Resolution 34A223,” Nina
continued, “Combat Local Piracy Act. Designates all space within
fifty thousand kilometers of Lagrange point L5 a protected safe
zone and authorizes the Civil Defense Corps to use deadly force in
patrolling that zone. Deadline in twenty-eight hours; voting
currently stands at forty-nine percent ‘yea,’ thirty-one percent
‘nay.’”

Forty-nine percent—that was only a couple of
percentage points away from passing. Her vote probably wouldn’t
make a difference now, and going on the record might come back to
bite her politically. At the same time, though, it didn’t seem
right to stand back and do nothing. She wasn’t exactly dovish, but
these military escalations always made her uneasy.

“
Put me down as ‘nay,’” she
said over the roar of the shower’s dry cycle. “Here’s my imprint.”
She pressed her thumb against the access panel as the drier reached
her feet.

“
Very well,” said Nina.
“Bill 3213A—”

“
That’s enough, Nina. I’ll
review the rest later.”

She stepped out of the shower unit and
retrieved a towel from an overhead compartment, wrapping it around
her hair.

“
Understood. Would you like
me to select your outfit for the evening?”

“
No,” she said, walking
into her bedroom. “I can manage it fine myself.” After all, some
things were better off not left to a computer.

“
Very well,” said Nina.
“Your father is expecting you at—”

“
Yes, I know. Go on standby
until further notice.”

“
Very well. Going on
standby. Goodbye!”

Sara studied her figure for a moment in the
mirror before picking out her clothes. Personal AIs could be
helpful, to be sure, but they could also be rather annoying.
Besides, she had more important things on her mind. In just a few
hours, she would leave on a voyage that would take her almost
twenty parsecs from home. She still had a lot to do before she was
ready.

* * * * *

At the groan of the opening blast doors,
James eased off of his cot and rose to face the electrified grill
on the far side of his cell. Heavy footsteps sounded on the floor,
no doubt to escort him off the ship. Sure enough, three men walked
into view: a short, balding man with a gray-haired goatee, flanked
by two military police.

“
Lieutenant McCoy,” said
the older man: a master sergeant, by the insignia on his shoulder.
James’s eyes grew wide, and he hastened to give a
salute.

“
Yes, sir.”

“
I have orders to escort
you to the docking terminal with your personal effects.” The master
sergeant nodded to the MPs, who depowered the door and swung it
open on its squeaky, archaic hinges.

Strange,
James thought to himself. Still, if high command
wanted to strip him of his commission, they wouldn’t have sent such
a high-ranking officer to meet him at port—which begged the
question, why had they sent anyone at all?

“
Thank you, sir,” he said.
“May I ask who wishes to see me?”

The master sergeant stepped back to allow
James to step out into the narrow hallway between cells. “I suppose
it’s only fair,” he muttered. “It’s the patrician. He’s waiting for
you at the terminal right now.”

“
Th-the patrician?” James’s
blood ran cold, and his heart skipped a beat. The patrician was the
commander-in-chief of all Colony defense forces, and the highest
elected official in the Colony government. Either James was in
deeper trouble than he realized, or something else was going on
that he didn’t know anything about.

“
That’s right, the
patrician,” said the master sergeant, leading him through the open
blast doors. As James followed him out of the brig, the MPs fell
into step behind them.

“
But—but what about my
uniform? I—”

“
Normally, I’d give you
some time to change,” said the master sergeant. “Unfortunately, the
patrician is running on a very tight schedule. Your flight suit
will have to do.”

James glanced down at the drab, olive-green
flight suit he was wearing. He’d only been allowed two changes of
clothing in the brig, and he’d worn the other for almost the entire
voyage, saving the clean one for when they put into port. Thank the
stars he wasn’t wearing the dirty one right now.

“
Can you tell me why he
wants to see me?” he asked as they walked down the brig
corridor.

“
I would tell you if I
could, Lieutenant, but frankly, I don’t know.”

The master sergeant stopped in front of the
elevator and keyed the access panel. The doors hissed open, and
they both stepped inside, leaving the MPs behind.

“
What about Commander
Maxwell?” James asked as the door slid shut. “I
thought—”

“
The commander was more
shocked than any of us when he received the news,” the master
sergeant answered with the hint of a smile. “I assure you,
Lieutenant, whatever his opinion of your behavior, it has been
overruled.”

That’s a
relief
. After a few brief moments of
silence, they stepped out into the main corridor of the
ship.

Unlike the gunboats,
the
Trident One
was a converted passenger liner, one that had been in
operation for several decades under the New Gaian Empire before the
Hameji occupation. The signs of age weren’t immediately obvious,
but James picked them out easily enough: little chips of missing
paint along the bulkheads, the indentations of foot traffic along
the yellowed floor tiles, a slight fogginess in the windows from
years of exposure to cosmic radiation. In contrast, the men and
women who staffed the ship were quite young, most of them barely
older than James. In their olive-green military drab, they seemed
as out of place as pirates in a civilized star system.

“
What about my belongings?”
James asked.

“
They have already been
packed and unloaded. You’ll find them at the tram.”

Sure enough, when they reached the end of
the corridor and stepped into the airlock, James saw his duffel bag
waiting for him. He hoisted it onto his shoulder and turned to the
master sergeant, who stood outside the door.

“
I’ll leave you here,
Lieutenant. The patrician asked to meet with you
privately.”

Privately?
James’s stomach flipped, and for a moment, he felt
like throwing up.

“
Right,” he said. “Thank
you, sir.”

“
Good luck.”

The ride in the tram down
the docking arm did little to quell his anxiety. Between the
docking terminal and the
Trident
One,
the artificial gravity field grew so
weak that his bag began to creep up the wall next to him. He
gripped the shoulder bars that kept him in his seat and closed his
eyes, imagining that he was simply lying on his back.