Relic Tech (Crax War Chronicles) (35 page)

I checked my watch and then to the trio said, “Gentlemen?”

Griffin held up a finger and withdrew a small device from his flight suit pocket. He held it partially concealed, still I noted that it was small, gray, and the controls appeared awkward for his fingers. It flashed red once, then hummed. Griffin smiled and continued to manipulate the controls. It flashed white and began to screech. Painfully, I watched the pilot continue to manipulate the device.

He frowned and then placed his hand over his mouth. “This will be awkward, Keesay. You certainly realize your room is monitored.”

I nodded but said nothing.

“My electronic device is able to scramble any audio recordings, but it cannot do anything about the visual. I was warned of this and recommend you cover your mouth before speaking.”

I did. “Understood. So that the movements of our lips cannot be translated. I shall strive to keep as straight of face as possible.” I looked to the others. They looked back to Griffin.

“I’ll keep this short. Your friend, the Chicher diplomat, completed a task for you. He passed the pertinent information on to us just prior to his quarters being searched and scanned by members of your security department.”

“Understood. And the results?”

“Did you know that prior to his assignment as diplomat, he was in intelligence, a code breaker?”

I wanted to say yes to impress the pilots. “No, I didn’t.”

I saw the smile in his eyes. “Prior to that he was a pilot. A fighter pilot, or as close as they come.”

“One of their midget frigates?” I asked.

“Right, Keesay,” said Griffin. “You seem to know a little about everything.”

“But not enough about anything, or I wouldn’t be in this predicament.”

“We care for that red-braided bitch almo
st as much as you,” Howler said, mouth barely concealed. “You’re the only one who’s had the,” he paused, “mettle, to stand up to her. Heard you roughed her up in a disturbance some years ago.”

I didn’t care to go down that path. “How did you all get involved?”

“The diplomat is a fellow combat pilot,” Griffin said matter-of-factly. His gaze tightened, then relaxed. “We’ve spent many hours in the simulators teaching him a thing or two, and picking up pointers on Chicher tactics.”

Howler suggested, “You should join us some time in the simulators.”

“Thanks, not in the cards, now.” I looked at my watch. “Let’s make this fast, okay?”

Griffin nodded. “Attached to the bottom of my tray is the original programming code you passed on to the diplomat. He broke it down and translated it. Seems it was some sort of program written to automatically download and transmit files. The first time it would have been activated, it would have imbedded itself into the normal code and been undetectable to most programmers. That information is included as well.”

I refrained from looking at the food tray. “I was lucky then. McAllister and Gudkov miscalculated when they loaded it in my sec-bot.”

“Luckier than you think. If it would have been brought up on any ship-standard operating system for examination, it would’ve erased itself.”

“Lucky nothing. I identified something, but lacked knowledge how to go at it. Ignorance kept me from triggering erasure.” I thought for a second. “No sense handing it off to me. If they can get at the diplomat’s quarters, they’ll have no problem getting at me.”

“What would you like us to do?” asked Griffin.

“Can you pass it directly on to the chief? If he won’t back me, and the truth, I’m done for anyway.”

“Can do, Keesay.” They got up and prepared to leave. “Anything else?”

“Yes. Hand me something from your pocket as we shake hands. Anything.”

He lowered his hand from his mouth and smiled. After reaching into his pocket, he offered his hand. I shook as smoothly as possible and palmed a memory chip. Trying to look nonchalant, I slipped it into a pocket before retrieving my tray.

Griffin deactivated the device. “Good luck, Keesay.”

“Luck has nothing to do with it,” I said. “Could you return my tray? I’m almost late for duty.”

We exited my quarters and parted ways. They laughed and carried on as usual. I rounded several corners but made it no further. I expected Gudkov and McAllister to move on me. Still, they caught me unprepared.

It is pointless to transmit electronic messages while in condensed space. They are invariable garbled due to condensed space distortions and active cascading atomic engines. Besides, the sending ship will arrive before the message.

While it is difficult to receive transmissions when traveling between the stars, some computer programs have been written to unscramble such messages. Quantum computers, even those with the latest artificial intelligence programming, are unable to fully compensate. Since artificial intelligence programs lack intuition, they are miserably inaccurate at inference and guesswork. Even under favorable conditions with twenty percent of a message getting through intact, it will likely be misinterpreted.

I heard a voice far off, mumbling. It neared as I gathered strands of recollection. Meeting three combat pilots and going for lunch. Then what? What did I order? Didn’t they tell me something important?

I shook my head to clear my thoughts. It was a good thing I was lying down, because it just made me dizzy. The cool, a
ntiseptic smell meant I was in Medical. I forced my eyes open, just a slit. I tried to sit up and became nauseous.

“Lie still. Focus,” ordered a voice. “Try to recall what happened.”

It was the chief, right next to me. I closed my eyes and obeyed. I replayed events to no avail. I swallowed hard, noted my throat was dry, and tried recalling again. Chicken patties too regularly, came to mind. “Too predictable,” I said. “Someone drugged my lunch?” I opened my eyes.

“Half right, Keesay,” said the chief. “What do you recall?”

“The combat pilots...escorting me to lunch...” I searched my memory a third time. Nothing after the pilots.” I shook my head, gingerly. “Anything on surveillance?”

The chief rubbed his chin and frowned. “Malfunction.”

My head was clearing as Dr. Sevanto approached. “Same thing when a colonist,” I paused, “when Colonist Owen was assaulted.”

“Saw Muller’s
file work on that.”

Dr. Sevanto stepped in front of the chief before he could continue. “They got you with a contact tranquilizer. A fast one.” He flashed a penlight into my eyes. “We’re examining the trace components of the compound now. Definitely nonstandard. I suspect one of the intended effects, besides unconsciousness, is memory loss.”

“Permanent damage?” I asked.

“Doesn’t appear so,” Doctor Sevanto said, examining several monitors before checking my reflexes. “Scans and our monitoring indicate a loss of memory limited around the time of the assault.” He checked his computer clip. “I administered several agents to bring you around and counter any other effects.” He tapped an entry into his clip. “You may come to recall some events since I administered treatment shortly after the assault.”

I considered that possibly a blow to the head was adding to the ache. I wasn’t happy about their shooting drugs into me without full knowledge but maybe there wasn’t time. Dr. Sevanto was good, and things appeared to have worked out. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome, Specialist.” Dr. Sevanto moved toward the door, but looked up from his clip before exiting. “Specialist Tahgs will be glad to know you’ll recover.”

“Two women in your life, Keesay?” chuckled Chief Brold.

“What?” I didn’t know I even had one.

“That exotic dancer, and one of her escorts found you,” said Chief Brold. “You might recall her escort. A Mr. Chokks Habbuk, Senior Recruiting VP for the Chiagerall Institute?”

I recalled him from the boarding incident. “Yeah, did you ever determine if he had any link to the terrorist?”

“No, he appears clean. However, you might thank him if you see him.” The chief scratched the back of his neck. “Seems he redirected Ms. Jazarine from their intended route, taking a longer passage. They came upon you. Interrupted your assailant.”

“Why? How’d he do that?”

The chief shrugged. “Because you’re a lucky SOB, and backlogged on a bit of good karma?”

Again, I closed my eyes, trying to recall details of the assault upon me. Nothing, but I could guess who was behind it.

“I had visitors,” said the chief. He waited until I opened my eyes. “Some pilots completed your business.” He waited for a response. Seeing one wasn’t coming, he continued, “You’ll want to press for an appeal.”

It was a statement, not a question. “I will, when I have the necessary information.”

“Keesay, you do.” The chief held his hand to his ear, then spoke into his collar. “I don’t care how much or how long she yells.” He paused. “If she gets violent, immobilize her. Same with Gudkov.”

Gudkov? I grinned.

“I see I made your decade.” Chief Brold sat on the edge of my bed, and plucked two cinnamon toothpicks from a breast pocket. “Try one?”

“Sure, Chief. I can guess some, but details would be nice.”

“Well, Senior Engineer McAllister and Specialist Gudkov are being detained. Chief Engineer Harkins is investigating any tampering with ship security systems. And files and programming in Medical.” He shifted his toothpick. “As we sit, McAllister’s blood samples, the original ones, are being run. But with a software package from the exploration shuttle. In addition, the backup program from Medical is running a sample on one of the quantum computers isolated from the distributed net. If it turns up what I suspect.”

“That I was right,” I said, guessing my actions must have triggered a mistake on McAllister’s part.

“Maybe, Keesay. Don’t go counting your chickens just yet.”

The cinnamon reached my tongue. “What about Haxon?”

“Specialist Haxon? For now he’s Club’s shadow. They’ll be best buddies until things are cleared up.”

I didn’t like the sound of that and was about to protest when the chief put a hand to his ear. I waited, tried to recall with new vigor recent events. Still no luck.

“Yes, Dr. Sevanto,” the chief nodded. “Is that a fact? Hmmm. I suggest you have the exploration shuttle crew make an additional backup of their program. Then have Chief Engineer Harkins run a comparison of the ship’s version, and the archived backup.” He nodded some more. “I know she’s been trained to avoid repetitive code, but there might be some common sequences.” He shifted his toothpick. “Yes, I’ll have Club release computer access to your staff. No, you’ll have to clear each with her. Acknowledged. Out.”

“I was correct,” I said, sitting up, ignoring the dizziness.

“Seems so,” agreed the chief. “To what extent will have to be seen.” He held up a finger. “Club, contact Dr. Sevanto about computer access. Seems McAllister has altered the archived medical programs as well. She didn’t get to the shuttle’s files.” He listened. “Good idea. Do that and report. Out.”

I followed the conversation but was tired of waiting. “The charges against me? My record?”

“It’ll be up to the captain and Mer.”

No sense being diplomatic and holding back. “Shouldn’t Haxon be detained?”

“He’s been placed on restricted duty. Like I said, with Club. And confined to quarters.”

“Am I still restricted?”

“Until this is resolved, yes. And you’ll have an escort.”

“To watch me, or to secure me?”

“Both. Corporal Smith and anyone he designates.”

I pointed to the wall storage. “May I have my s
idearm until I’m released from Medical?”

“Sure thing.” He retrieved my revolver and com-set. “Trusting sort.” He handed me the former and hung the latter over the bed railing.

I checked my duty revolver. “Thanks, Chief.”

He nodded. “Medical is busy so it may be a while.” He activated his ocular. “Smith’s outside. I suggest you rest.” He shook his head as he strode to the door. “Bet what’s really got McAllister’s craw is that she tangled with a relic and lost.”

“
Nemo me impune lacessit
,” I said.

He halted just as the door opened. “You are full of surprises, Keesay.”

“Never underestimate an R-Tech,” I assured him.

Using wireless signals to alter transmissions, and intercept others, one organization finally stepped over the line, triggering the Information War. Exactly what line was crossed and by which government or corporation depends on the historian utilized as a primary source. Nevertheless, applications used in times of peace lent themselves to direct military application. Tanks, ships, and aircraft, all unmanned and automated by various artificial intelligence programs, had been the military wave of the future, until the impossible. Friendly units accepted commands from the enemy! Unbeatable codes were broken.

Before it was over, man again found himself thrust bodily into machines of destruction. The human mind was again meshed upfront with military hardware. One of the outgrowths of this realization led to the vital, and highly competitive, game known as Code Wars.

“...How did it go today, Kra?” Benny asked when I returned from the showers. He was resting on his bunk.

“It’s getting better. No fights. No instructors reported insubordination. But tomorrow Carver Potts and Stosh Meadows are due for release.”

“...Detention,” Benny acknowledged. “I heard you have been riding them pretty hard.”

I examined my new dress uniform. “That’s right,” I said, buckling on my sidearm. “They were behind the assaults while I was locked up. Among other things. I know, I can’t prove it, but I’ve got eyes and ears other than surveillance.” And Benny knew the malfunctions had subsided since Gudkov and McAllister had been caught altering medical and security programs. “Most of the colonists were good hires. Even the thugs are smart.” I examined my uniform fit in the mirror. “At least they have potential.”

“...Been easier since that situation with Engineer McAllister was cleared up.” He pulled out his electronic therapy device, and began tapping. “More work for all of us until they can return to unrestricted duty.”

“Three weeks of solitary confinement wasn’t long enough if you ask me.”

“...Their skills are vital,” Benny trailed off. He looked away, then concentrated on his device.

I wasn’t offended. A senior engineer with multiple areas of expertise and a quality maintenance tech coupled with security training made my contributions seem small. “Well, Benny, at least I get a slice of their company pay. Compensates a little for my deflated ego.” I went over and patted his shoulder. “Paid for my new uniform. And it’s paying for my evening out.” I felt uncomfortable about dropping so many credits, but Gudkov and McAllister would hear about it. Petty, but I was getting two for one with the investment.

He responded with a thumbs-up. “What are you going to see?”

“Shakespeare’s
Othello
. Preceded by a cocktail dinner party.”

“...I hear they have some authentic juices in them.”

“Hey, I’ll be rubbing shoulders with most of the first classers.” I fingered my security specialist 4th class patch. “Some real wine and nothing on the menu is synthesized.”

“...Promise me you won’t get into a fight.”

“I promise, Benny. Unless someone insults my date.”

Benny checked the chronometer. “If you are late, you will have a fight on your hands before you even get to dinner.”

I clipped one of Mer’s hand radios onto my belt. Next to it I dropped an ear receiver in a snap pouch. “Understood.” I waited, debating if I should carry any additional equipment. I was off duty. Still, I had my stun baton and my duty sidearm with spare ammunition, including six of the silver bullets my cousin, Oliver, had given me. They looked nice resting in the bullet loops on my belt. I reached into my pocket and tossed my brass knuckles to Benny. “There, that should discourage me.”

When I arrived, Specialist Tahgs’s roommate, Med Tech Merriam, had just exited. She brushed her red hair aside and gave me a friendly wave over her shoulder. Janice answered the door wearing a long purple dress with shimmering vertical stripes. Over it she sported a yellow mesh blouse. Its looseness contrasted the fit of the dress.

She caught me looking. “Some duty assignments,” I explained, “aren’t on call twenty-four hours a day.” I caught the fragrance of her perfume. Flowery, maybe lilac.

“I’d hoped you were thinking something else.” She offered me a seat. “Would you like to relax a few minutes?”

“I wasn’t imagining Specialist Club in that outfit, if that’s what you’re getting at.” She giggled. I checked my watch. “Maybe we’d better just head on over. Spent too much time on file
work and chatting with Benny.” I offered her my arm and she accepted. “He suggested I avoid engaging in fisticuffs if at all possible.”

“That would be nice,” she said. “Unless Joyce Club comes looking for a dress I borrowed.” She adjusted and smoothed her outfit. “You look nice this evening.”

I hoped Club wasn’t monitoring the conversation. “Thanks. Had fabrication services put it together. I bet they had to pull some old programs to incorporate the buttons.”

She smiled and shook her head. “Hey, did you read all your journal articles we downloaded?”

“Not much to do in isolation. Glad I had them. Thanks.”

“I thought you might’ve. I ran across and downloaded a flat screen comedy routine. Thought you might like it.”

“Really?” I led her into an empty elevator.

“Yes, it’s an old, old-time comedy act called,
Who’s on First.
” She saw I didn’t recognize it. “It’s about baseball.”

“That’s right.” I paused while we passed through the main gravity plate. “You came down and saw the colonist kids playing.”

“Them, you, the pilots and a marine.” She smiled and winked, ignoring my gravitational discomfort. “I’m not sure who was more competitive.”

We exited the elevator. “Don’t forget the Chicher umpire.” We were almost to the first class entertainment hall, or ballroom. “You should’ve joined in.”

“No,” Tahgs said. “Enjoyed watching and talking to Instructor Watts. Not what you’d expect for an R-Tech instructor.”

“True. She picks up on computers and other tech stuff pretty fast.” I recalled several times simply nodding as she went on about tech details I couldn’t follow. “Extremely fast.”

“I know you’re friends with the marines. How’d you get the combat pilots to play?”

“Some marines,” I corrected. “I’ve expanded my circle of associates since confinement. Beyond you, Mer, Benny and a few odd maintenance techs.”

“Heard the pilots helped you implicate McAllister.”

“No, not exactly.” We were approaching our destination.

“So you’ve recovered your memory?” She slowed. “Dr. Sevanto was concerned when they brought you in.”

“Bits and pieces. It’s like snippets from a dream.”

We stopped in front of the door. Janice ran the back of her hand over the scanning console. I had to call up a thumb print scan for admittance. A middle-aged couple in fine, gray eveningwear came up behind. “Relic,” the man mumbled.

“Thank you for inviting me,” Tahgs said, hoping to distract me.

I wasn’t looking for a brawl. “You’re welcome, Janice. Let’s go on in.”

Soft golden light emanated from ballroom’s ceiling for the evening meal. There were fourteen round tables of various sizes set at the far end. White cloths covered all of them but the larger were set with eight chairs. Ours, a private with only two, sat couched in the center. As we strolled to our table, a small lamp rose from the center to reveal silverware, crystal flutes, plates, cloth napkins, and a bottle of sparkling wine resting in an ice bucket.

I pulled out Janice’s seat. “There you go.”

“Thank you, Kra.” She looked around. “We’re early.”

“No,” I said, “we’re on time. Not fashionably late.” Then my heart sank when I spotted Ms. Jamayka Jazarine enter. Her sleek black gown had caught more than my attention. Her escort, a tall businessman, grinned. I looked to Janice who hadn’t noticed yet, so I continued the conversation. “Have you met the Chicher diplomat?”

“Other than at your game where I exchanged greetings, no.” She squinted a bit, but continued the topic. “How did you meet it?”

“I nearly tripped over him during my layover on the Mavinrom Dock. Almost lost my tray of food.” I observed a few more passengers enter before Ms. Jazarine and her escort moved toward our table, as did the couple in gray. “The Chicher spends a lot of time with the missionary.”

“That’s what Benny said,” agreed Janice. “He said you’ve been to a couple of church services.”

“Three.” I tried to avoid eye contact with the approaching diners. “My duty schedule conflicts, although...”

Ms. Jazarine and her escort stopped at our table. “Good evening, Specialist Keesay.”

I stood, “Good evening, Ms. Jazarine.”

“Glad to see that you have recovered, Specialist,” she said, revealing a warm smile.

I’d only sent her a message by courier thanking her for finding me and reporting the assault. “Thank you.” I didn’t know what else to say, knowing I should have done more. “I see that you have recovered as well.” She flexed her prosthetic fingers. Maybe it was the lighting, but I couldn’t tell.

“Yes,” she said. “Thanks to Dr. Sevanto and his skilled staff.”

“Where are my manners?” I moved around the table behind my date. “Have you met Specialist Janice Tahgs?”

She nodded. “Yes, we met in M
edical. And this is Mr. Dabbit B’down.” She presented her escort. “Of Cardinal One Intrasolar Corporation.”

Mr. B’down stepped forward and confidently shook my hand. “Yes,” he said, “we are looking to work with Negral Corp on several small projects.” His orange tie was heavily marked with black pinwheel designs. Barely a midlevel executive.

“That’d be good,” I said. “I know someone from security with Cardinal One. Said it was a first order company.” It must be, I thought, if someone his level had an expense account to afford evenings such as this, and could attract the company of a quality exotic dancer.

There was a long pause. Ms. Jazarine leaned toward Janice. “You’re lucky to have the companionship of Specialist Keesay. He has politely avoided me most of the cruise.”

Janice smiled, not knowing what to say. Then simply responded, “Thank you.”

“Come, Jamayka, it’s time to be seated,” said Mr. B’down. “Nice meeting you.”

“Nice to meet you,” I replied as they moved to the next table. The rude gentleman in gray sat with them. He glanced over his shoulder with a sneer while Mr. B’down seated Ms. Jazarine next to his elegant companion. Eight seats, and they had to select the ones closest to us.

I examined the wine. It was a Cava from Mexico. Champagne wasn’t appropriate for a dinner, and I couldn’t afford real French Champagne. But the Cava was close, and this was an event, at least for me. “I haven’t had a sparkling wine since my cousin Oliver was recruited by Fleet Military.”

“Really?” Janice said. “Are you worried about him?”

“The war? I don’t know for sure if we’re at war. More rumors than anything else.” I sat back. “He did serve on the
Iron Armadillo
, but now serves on an armed freighter to the outer colonies.”

“You’re right. A lot of rumors. What do the marines say?”

“Anything of interest is classified. They’re tight-lipped.” I unfolded my napkin. “If Chief Brold knows anything, he won’t tell us until we prepare to drop out of condensed space, if we are at war.” I refolded the napkin and watched the gentleman in gray. He was sitting at an odd angle to his companions and out of their conversation. “If he or the captain knows. The
Kalavar
is only a medium class civilian transport.”

“You’re probably right. But people are saying that’s why McAllister got such a light sentence.” She took a sharp breath and gauged my reaction. I kept it straight. “They’d need her to keep intact computer command and control integrity.”

“She is top notch when it comes to that,” I agreed. It also meant that my stay onboard the
Kalavar
would be short. One of us would be dropped as soon as convenient. I didn’t mention that. “Heard she was banned from the onboard Code Wars competition.”

Janice nodded eagerly. “That really altered the odds. Have you wagered any credits?”

“Actually, yes. On Benny to place in the top five.” I heard a few corks pop, and reached into our bucket. “I like long odds and he’s sharper than others might suspect.”

“You’re right,” she said. “Last I looked there were only two who’ve placed anything on him.”

I waved off the waiter. I wouldn’t need a corkscrew. Janice squinted. I was very careful not to waste any. I poured. The wine sparkled and fizzled. “So you’re the other,” I said. She nodded and sipped. “Want another tip?”

“You never seem to go out on a beam without an edge.” She leaned in. “Let’s hear it.”

“Colonist Owen. He’ll place far better than his ranking.” I could see her recalling the list. “Third from the bottom,” I offered. “Two behind Benny.”

“I’ll look into it,” she said. “Anyway, the contract on the code variations has been doubled. McAllister’s status and all.”

“Hah,” came from the other table. “What would a Relic know of codes?” The man in gray turned his chair. “His associate must be equally ignorant.”