Marie and Jase accompanied Klasson
to Refuge’s tavern to celebrate the destruction of the BBI base while I
returned to the
Lining
with Izin. I immediately
transcribed the ghost numbers I’d seen in the picometric scanning lab for Izin to
analyze. To my surprise, he found the going particularly tough.
After more than an hour staring
at the ghost numbers and having made no progress, Izin said, “Considering the
vagaries of human memory and the quantity of data involved, it’s unlikely you
have accurately recalled the data. These numbers are almost certainly
meaningless.”
Normally he’d be right, except I
wasn’t using human memory, I was using bionetic storage and I knew my
transcription was perfect. Of course, I couldn’t tell Izin that. “Trust me, they’re
the numbers and they mean something.”
“Even if you have recalled the
data correctly, the base’s system suffered a major malfunction. The numbers
themselves may be corrupt.”
“Corrupt or not, I need to know
what they mean.”
Izin reluctantly returned to his
analysis, sitting like a statue amid his six screens, eyes darting back and
forth as his focus constantly shifted. Occasionally he used the ship’s
processing core to run tests, but mostly he did it in his head. I left him
alone, certain that if he could find no meaning in the numbers, Vargis had
escaped and the Codex was now free to do whatever the Mataron’s intended. I
returned to my stateroom and drafted a report for Lena Voss, the first of its
kind I’d written in years. The fact that I’d let the Codex slip through my
fingers only made it harder to write.
“Captain?” Izin’s voice sounded as
I was reviewing the final draft hours later. “You were correct. These numbers
have meaning.”
“I’ll be right there.” I hurried
across to engineering where Izin still sat in the same position I’d left him in
hours before. “What have you got?”
“There’s a highly structured
logic behind these numbers, Captain, the like of which I’ve never seen before. It
is far too intricate to have been conceived of by humans.”
“Because we’re not smart enough
to have thought of it?”
“Isn’t that what I said?” Izin
motioned towards the ghost numbers filling the screens to his right. “It is a complex,
cognitive theorem, quite challenging until I was able to reconstruct the core
algorithm.”
“You mean you reverse engineered
Mataron mathematics in your head, in one evening?”
“I had no alternative, Captain. The
ship’s processing core was unable to assist me.”
No wonder the rest of the galaxy
kept Izin’s species under lock and key. “You’ll have to do better next time,” I
said, although Izin didn’t realize I was joking.
“Now that I understand how their
logic works, I will be able to solve this kind of problem faster in the future.
It was the purpose of the theorem that deceived me.”
“What purpose?”
“It’s a synthetic intelligence, a mathematical
clone of an actual Mataron.”
“I’ve never heard of mathematical
clones.”
“Human technology is limited to
biological cloning only,” Izin said. “This is something considerably more
advanced. It is a virtual representation of the consciousness of a real Mataron
known as Hazrik a’Gitor.”
“Hazrik a’Gitor ?” With my
bionetic memory wiped, I had no way of checking if the EIS were aware of this
particular Mataron.
“The Antaran Codex spawns the synthetic
intelligence into human computer systems. The SI then functions as the actual
Mataron agent would, drawing on all his experience and knowledge, making
intuitive leaps when needed to carry out his mission, all without being detected.
That’s why it triggered the core collapse of the base’s energy plant. The
explosion would have destroyed the Codex, the base’s processing core and erased
all evidence of the synthetic operative’s existence.”
“But why destroy itself? It could
have hidden, waiting for a chance to complete its mission.”
“It did complete its mission,
Captain. I said the SI erased
evidence
of its existence. I didn’t say it erased itself. You see, the Codex spawned
twice. The first time into BBI’s processing core, which enabled it to lock down
the base and overload the energy plant. That’s why the ejection pods couldn’t launch
until after the
Soberano
destroyed
the base’s processing core.”
“Ah, so Vargis saved the
terraformers.”
“Yes. The
Soberano
destroyed the first spawning of the Mataron SI when she
took off, although they wouldn’t have known that at the time. The
Silver Lining
picked up an emergency
signal from pod control, telling the
Soberano
the processing core was blocking their launch, asking for help.”
I guess it made sense. BBI and Vargis
were both Consortium. Even so, Vargis had saved the lives of almost two
thousand innocent people!
“So what did this simulated Mataron
agent hope to gain by destroying the base?”
“When the energy plant went
supercritical,” Izin continued, “the base’s emergency warning system
automatically activated, giving the Codex access to every node on the base’s
datanet. The ghost numbers you saw were the second spawning, piggybacking on
the warning system.”
“But the base is gone. What’s the
point of spawning twice?”
“The spaceport was a hub and
every ship docked was a node,” Izin explained. “The Mataron synthetic intelligence
spawned into the
Soberano
before she
took off.”
“What!” So even if Vargis locked
the Antaran Codex away in his specially sealed vault, it no longer mattered.
The SI had already infiltrated his ship’s systems without him even knowing it! “How
long before the
Soberano
breaks down
– like the
Heureux
?”
“Marie’s engineer broke the link
between the Codex and the
Heureux
’s processing
core before the SI finished spawning. That’s why her ship became disabled. The spawning
into the
Soberano
is already complete.
The Mataron SI will not disable the
Soberano
,
it will take command of her.”
So that was it! The Matarons
wanted control of the
Soberano
, a virtual
battleship equipped with the latest Earth-tech weapons. Even Earth Navy
frigates would have trouble taking her on, if they knew where she was headed
and if they could catch her.
Izin pointed to a group of
numbers on one of the screens. “Those are navigational coordinates showing the
Soberano
’s destination.” Izin called up
astrographics, displaying a soft orange star with a glowing red warning ring
encircling it. “According to the Tau Ceti charts, it’s a restricted system.”
Restricted systems were off limits
to mankind for any number of reasons. If the
Soberano
entered that system, it would count as a minor Access
Treaty violation. It wouldn’t be enough to cause another embargo, but it would
add at least a century to our qualifying period. Another hundred years would
hurt, but surely that wouldn’t be enough for the Matarons. They wanted to
destroy us, not delay us.
“Why there?” I asked warily.
Izin’s vocalizer never revealed
his emotions, but for once I sensed even my tamph engineer was on edge. “The
Soberano
is going to destroy an entire
civilization. That will make mankind as hated in this galaxy as my own species,
and you will no doubt suffer the same fate.”
At last, I understood.
The Antaran Codex was the means by which the Matarons
would have their revenge!
* * * *
It was almost midnight local time when I
entered the Tree House, Refuge’s noise and smoke filled tavern. Jase was
engaged in drinking games with five leather-faced survivalists while Marie was
line dancing with several dozen inebriated townsfolk. I caught her eye,
indicating we were going. She thanked those around her and started for the door
while Jase was singing some local song he’d been taught. There was a round of
clapping in rhythm, then they gulped down a small cup of dark yellow liquid. A
moment later, all the men were coughing and beating their chests as they swallowed
the alcoholic poison.
“Skipper!” Jase yelled drunkenly
when he saw me arrive. “Sit down! You got to try this stuff. It’s made from
kelp! It tastes terrible!” He laughed as his drinking friends raced to fill
each other’s cups.
I put my hand on his shoulder. “Time
to go.”
“One more round!” Jase yelled,
eager to break into another song.
“We really have to go,” I said,
lifting him out of his chair. Jase’s band of new best friends howled in
protest, demanding he stay for one more song, inviting me to join them. “We’ll
be back,” I promised.
Klasson emerged from the crowd, a
large drink in one hand, yet as clear eyed as ever. Obviously, he could hold
his liquor better than my extroverted copilot. He stuck out his big calloused
hand. “You’re going after them?”
“I have to,” I said as we shook
hands.
“Good luck. I’ll be waiting for
my guns,” he said with a crooked grin, not really expecting me to bring him any
weapons.
“If I’m alive, you’ll get them,”
I promised, then supported Jase to the door.
He waved to his drinking
companions, who seemed genuinely sorry to see him go, then one pretty young
woman stepped in front of us and planted a big kiss on his lips. She gave him an
inviting look as she stepped aside, then he reached for her, but I dragged him
back.
“No you don’t!” I said, pushing him
towards the door where Marie was waiting.
Outside, she asked, “I take it
Izin figured out where Vargis has gone?”
“Yeah, and it’s bad.”
Once aboard ship, Marie helped Jase
to his stateroom to sleep it off while I went to the flight deck and started on
our preflight checklists.
Soon Marie appeared, taking the
copilot’s acceleration couch. “He’s sleeping like a baby.”
“Did all the terraformers make it
out of the base?” I asked.
“No. There are nearly two hundred
missing, probably trapped in the base by the lock down.”
After checking the airspace
overhead was clear, we lifted off on low power. Once we were high enough that Refuge
wouldn’t feel the down blast from our engines, I throttled up then activated
the intercom.
“Izin, how are those autonav
safeties coming along?”
“Disabling them now, Captain.”
Marie gave me a wary look. “Sirius,
what are you doing?”
Every autonav had built-in
safeguards preventing human ships from entering – or even approaching –
restricted systems. Overriding those safeties was punishable by death,
something even the most cold blooded pirate wouldn’t risk for fear of the
navy’s retribution.
“Going after Vargis.”
“Vargis might be a slime ball,” Marie
said, “But he’s not suicidal. He wouldn’t disable his autonav safeties.”
“He wouldn’t, but the thing
controlling his ship would!”
She was about to argue with me
when the neutrino detector began flashing. “There’s a huge energy source beyond
the planet,” she said, “two million clicks out.”
“How big?” I asked.
“Big enough not to be one of ours.”
Alien ships were always easy to
identify by the immense quantities of energy they generated compared to human
ships – except for the Tau Cetins whose ships generated no traces we could
identify. It allowed us to spot most alien ships even when they were a long way
off.
“Izin,” I called urgently over
the intercom, “How long for the autonav?”
“Two minutes, Captain.”
I turned to Marie. “Give me any
change in the alien contact’s position.”
Without waiting for her response,
I set course to climb up from the system’s ecliptic plane, getting us clear of
mass obstructions for a quick getaway.
“It’s closing on us – fast,” Marie
said.
“Izin, I need that autonav now.”
“Almost there, Captain.”
I swung the optics towards the
neutrino source, finding a stretched and flattened teardrop shaped hull silhouetted
against the stars.
“I’ve never a seen ship like that
before,” Marie said curiously.
“It’s a Mataron armored cruiser,
Ortarn
class.”
“Since when did you become an
expert on Mataron warships?”
“I have my secrets,” I replied,
playing down my knowledge of our reptilian adversary, certain it was the same
ship that had stalked us in the Shroud.
Marie gave me a puzzled look. Like
all humans, she knew who the Matarons were, why they hated us, but very little
else. Most information about them was classified and as there was no trade
between our two civilizations, civilians rarely saw their ships. EIS agents,
however, were given an Earth Navy familiarization course on the Mataron Fleet,
although this was the first time I’d ever seen one of their ships up close.