Icarus (Interstellar Cargo Book 1) (32 page)

Lin’s shaking like a leaf,
Cole thought. “Thank you,” he murmured. The moment was interrupted as Forester rolled onto his back, his body convulsing. A strange noise emanated from him.
Is he laughing?

“Well played, Dr. Dartmouth,” Forested said, his voice strained. “I never considered you a threat. It would seem life as a criminal has begun to wear on you.”

“You left her no choice,” Cole said. “You’re lucky she didn’t aim a little higher. Which brings up an interesting thought: what to do with you?”

Forester forced himself to a half-sitting, half-hunched position. He looked a complete and utter bloody mess, a far cry from the immaculate director. “I suggest you allow this vessel to complete its trek toward the Sun.”

I don’t like that answer.

“No matter how you proceed from here on out, you are all living on borrowed time,” Forester continued. “You are the most wanted crew in the galaxy. Don’t think for a minute that your gangster brother will keep you safe.”

Cole took a step forward, his sidearm aimed directly at Forester’s head. “That’s enough.”

“If Darkstar has any common sense, he will rid himself of the Singularity before it’s too late.”

“Enough!” Forester went limp as Cole brought the butt of his weapon down upon his neck.

Lin gasped, and Cole spun to face her. He expected to find her crying, but his non-lethal action seemed to bring her out of her frightened stupor. She acknowledged the surrounding carnage with the eyes of a person trying to decode a complex riddle. Her calculating gaze ignored the still bodies, and fell upon the illuminated flight console.

CAIN had returned.

T
he ICV-71 came back to life as though it had never been crippled. The hum of the engines filled the silence, the cold emergency lights were replaced by the faux warmth of fluorescence, and the heavily filtered Sun displayed large and ominous on the viewport screen. They were still headed straight towards it without fail. And the blue beacon that was CAIN still shone bright in the center of the console.

Cole frowned, stepping around Forester’s unconscious body to check on Emmerich. “You’re gonna have to be a little less vague, Cain,” he said as he knelt down to check her for a pulse. It was there, though it was weak. There was a deep seared groove along her temple where the plasma burst had glanced off her skull. It was a bad wound but one from which she should recover.
If we don’t burn up first.
“There’s been way too much action since I first boarded this ship.”

Cole looked at Lin. “Is this really happening?” He shook his head and removed his jacket, tossing it aside. He motioned Lin over to assist him with Emmerich. “We need to move her to the infirmary. Now.”

“What about Forester?”

Cole shrugged. “We’ll just have to hope he doesn’t wake up.” He hooked his arms under Emmerich’s armpits while Lin grabbed her legs. Together they managed the lift without much difficulty, but the long walk down the hall to the infirmary would be another story.

CAIN said as they walked.

“Why should I tell you anything?” Cole said, frustrated. “This whole mess is all your doing. Did you somehow forget Arthur Forester is a traitorous assassin before you cordially invited him back aboard? Or do you enjoy watching the crew of this ship suffer?”

“Seeking answers, eh? You never thought that one of us might be able to answer these all-important questions of yours? Me—your friend and captain, and Lin—your maker—we never factored into the equation?”

came CAIN’s definitive answer.

Does he think this ship only functions properly when we’re all working together as a team?
Cole thought, confounded. “What brought you to that ridiculous conclusion?”

Final decision? I don’t like the sound of that.
“Okay, so you successfully put the band back together—to which you saw the bloody results—so what is it you have decided?”

Lin halted and Cole nearly dropped Emmerich as a result. “What’s wrong?” he asked, unnerved by her panicked expression.

She stared at him before speaking. “Judgment.”

“Not exactly the response I was expecting.” His arms screamed from the dead weight he was holding, and his knee felt as though it would give at any moment. “Can we keep moving? We’re almost to the inf—”

“CAIN has made a decision which will impact human lives.”

Cole didn’t like her implication. “He’s bluffing,” he said, tugging Emmerich’s body toward the infirmary. “That would insinuate his own suicide as well.”

“You need to be alive in order to be redeemed, Cain. Try again.”

CAIN added.

Cole sighed as he and Lin finally entered the infirmary. “You mistake deliberate action with cause and effect, Cain.” They carefully placed Emmerich upon the room’s only table. Nothing happened after they backed away. He turned to Lin. “Any idea how to work this thing?”

Lin blinked, her breathing shaky. “It’s supposed to self-activate.”

CAIN said.

“Turn it on, Cain,” Cole demanded.

“
Don’t
call me
captain!
” Cole shouted, slamming his hand on the table. “My title is forfeit now that you’ve chosen to play God. You’re in charge, Cain. Not me. If we were still friends, and I’m your captain, you wouldn’t be hanging this death sentence over our heads.”

Cain explained.

Cole clenched his gloved fists, furious. He could see Lin was terrified, and that only infuriated him more. “ ‘The greater good of humanity’? What the
fuck
do you know about humanity? You’re nothing more than a light bulb instilled with human ideals. How can you ever claim to know when to make such paramount verdicts? You stopped well short of your human achievement the minute you took choice away from us.”

CAIN was not so quick to respond.

“Then what’s the point of your existence? The entire goal of artificial intelligence is to achieve human sentience through machine.”

Another much longer pause. Cole did not wait for an answer. “Cain. Turn on the medical terminal. Now.”

“I don’t give half a shit what the reason is behind your quest for genocide! Turn on this goddamn machine, and let it save my friend!” He was hardly aware of both his throbbing hands pounding on the table.

The medical terminal began receiving power and turned on. It immediately set to diagnosing Emmerich’s injury. It was all Cole needed to see before he limped out of the infirmary, Lin close on his heels.

At least he’s leaving out my title.
“The bridge. Someone needs to clean up your mess.”

“I believe you made a breakthrough,” Lin said

“I guess. Getting Cain to turn on medical equipment is one thing. Convincing him to avert our course is another.”

“You seem to be making an impression.”

“Not enough.”

“How do you plan to convince CAIN?”

Cole chuckled. “I was hoping you had some ideas, Doc. He’s your creation.”

Lin blushed. “Despite the direness of our situation, CAIN does seems to respect your opinion. If you persist with your current approach, perhaps it can be made to see reason.”

“It?” Cole asked. “
It?
‘It’ no longer applies, Doc.
He
is in complete control. Only I seem to realize that Cain is more than AI.”

“But you had said....”

“I know what I said,” he said, frustrated. “Reverse psychology. It’s the ace up my sleeve. And...it’s all I’ve got.”

“It will have to do,” Lin said.

Cole stopped and rounded on her. “And when it won’t? What then? We’re all dead, that’s what!” He threw his arms out in agitation, regretting unleashing his misplaced anger on her. He sighed and stepped away, though he did not apologize. “Even if I convince him to see to reason, how can we ever trust him again?”

CAIN said, reminding Cole and Lin that despite their occasionally hushed conversation, the AI could hear all that was spoken.

“Righteous
and
humane!” Cole scoffed. “You’re a shoo-in for the Nobel Peace Prize.” He started toward the bridge once more.

“CAIN.” Lin called aloud. “How long before this ship’s hull fails to protect human life against the Sun’s electromagnetic radiation?”

CAIN said as though discussing the weather.

“More than enough time for me to convince the brilliant brainchild of one genius Dr. Dartmouth,” Cole said mockingly.

They entered the bridge to find Rig standing overtop an unconscious Forester. The mechanic was looking down, and Cole had a funny suspicion the mechanic was considering whether or not he should wake the man up by driving his boot into his neck.

“Hey, big guy!” Cole said, drawing Rig’s attention. The mechanic’s sleeves were covered with the blood from his face. Even his skunk streak was tinged pink. It was a gruesome sight, which made him look even more ferocious.
He looks like he accidentally peeked into an active engine.
“Glad to see you’re the first one standing.”

Rig chuckled. “Can you believe this pissant pencil-pusher caused us this much trouble?”

No,
Cole thought. “We’re not out of the woods yet.”

“You’re right,” Rig said, cracking his thick knuckles. “Unfinished business. Lemme snap his twig neck. I don’t like the way he’s still breathing.”

And why shouldn’t I let him?
Cole shook his head. “No. Tie him up. I’ve got other plans for him.”
I do?

Rig was not happy with the order. “What was that, Nugget? Pretty sure you ain’t thinkin’ straight. Thought I heard you say to tie him up.”

I don’t need this right now.
“Look, I don’t like him any more than you, but he’s just doing what Research paid him to do. He’s no better or worse than us.”

If smoke could pour from one’s head, Rig’s would be an inferno. He did as asked, then grabbed Forester’s limp body by the hair and lifted him like a marionette. “And what’re you gonna do with him?”

“We’re going to use him to make a point,” Cole said, motioning his head toward the lift. “Let’s bring Mr. Arthur T. Forester down to the cargo hold.”

He went to assist the mechanic, but the stocky man slung Forester over his shoulder like an animal carcass. Rig then moved so close that his and Cole’s noses almost touched. His blood smeared face made him look wild, but it was CAIN who spoke first.

Rig’s eye twitched at the AI’s words. “You better know what you’re doin’.”

What, no Nugget moniker?
He patted Rig’s shoulder and headed toward the lift. “Who said anything about mercy?” He asked Cain. “I’m about to give you your first full lesson in humanity: Execution.”

Lin’s head spun to face Cole, and he held up a hand to silence her. He leaned in and spoke to her in as quiet a whisper he could muster. Her eyes grew large with understanding, and she soon nodded her agreement and offered her own hushed words of wisdom. The private conversation was interrupted by Rig’s grunt. When Cole pulled away, he turned to find the mechanic’s eyes were slits of suspicion.

“Execution?” he asked, hopeful. “What about all that nonsense you said about pencil-dick, here, being no better or worse than us?”

Cole merely grinned.

The lift reached the cargo hold floor, and the four of them exited. They made their way to an area where there were no crates. Rig unceremoniously dropped Forester’s body on the metal floor, and Cole withdrew his sidearm.

“I suggest you step away, Doc,” he told her. “This won’t be pretty.”

“Aren’t you goin’ to wait until he wakes up?” Rig asked, disappointed.

I really need to ask what it was he was incarcerated for,
Cole thought, shaking his head. He watched Lin walk away, and waited until she was out of sight. “I’m not a monster, Rig. I’m simply carrying out my duty as captain of this vessel. What he did was treasonous and without redemption. As such, he must pay the ultimate price.”

CAIN’s voice asked over the loudspeaker.

“Cause and effect, Cain,” Cole said, pointing his weapon toward Forester’s tied and immobile body. “I want you to witness what it means to be human—to witness one man’s justification for taking of another’s life. You will learn no better lesson.”