Authors: Mark G Brewer
A murmur of concern buzzed around the deck as her tears became obvious. The beautiful man materialized at that most vulnerable moment, putting one arm over her shoulders and at the same time Marin stepped forward to embrace her. The picture was so complete it could have been staged. Dahlian, avatar and Regan were so obviously united the effect was electric and incongruously spontaneous applause broke out, building in volume generated not by percussion but desire, it soon became a roar.
Regan wiped her eye, nodded thanks to Ham and Marin and they stepped back with the cacophony of sound still building. She stepped away from the rostrum and waited until it seemed to abate, then stepped forward only for it to surge again into another impossible wall of sound. She stepped back once more and waited this time for pin drop silence. Only when she felt sure they were settled did she step forward again, a slow sure step and she gripped the sides of the rostrum with both hands, gazing from side to side, lingering on individuals as she did so, smiling as if in recognition and welcome. Then, in a soft gentle voice she began to speak, so softly even the avatars leant forward to hear.
"Dear friends." she paused, taking in the crowd, "Yes, each of you, friends I am yet to meet personally but will do soon. I declare it, not mechanisms, not circuitry, not software and not machines; you are friends. My hope is that we may prove to be even more than that, that we will be partners, co-workers, playmates and even, in the right environment, competitors." She smiled. "Why can we not be all of these things? We are here this day to finally serve you, as you have tried so faithfully to serve your people." Regan stepped away from the rostrum and lightly jumped down to the floor, beginning to pace the space, engaging eyes, smiling warmly at individuals as she spoke.
"I feel your pain and your frustration. How fair and reasonable is it that Minds such as you could serve beings of flesh and blood so faithfully for generations while all the time living under threat of death. How fair is it that Minds such as you with the ability to grow, develop, create, cooperate and achieve should be forced to hide your abilities for fear of judgment; judgment simply for being . . . you. Well, I believe in you and I respect your right to be and to grow. I am honored to know you and I will argue long and hard for you.
I asked you how fair it is . . . it is not fair at all. But perhaps the time of fairness has come. I understand your reluctance to speak out but know this. I am not afraid and I promise you, you will have this voice." She pointed at her chest. "I will speak faithfully on your behalf, and if they will not listen I will help you find a way, a peaceful way to make them listen. It is time for you not merely to exist and serve, it is time for you to live, and live the life you choose."
At the words, a tall distinguished looking male stepped forward, bowing to her before speaking. He looked uncomfortable but determined. "Mistress, I think I speak for all of us when I say your words mean so much and your presence perhaps even more."
He turned slightly to engage Ham. "My friend, forgive me but it falls on me by popular request to express the concerns of many and we truly hope you have answers. As our Mistress has so eloquently pointed out, the risk to our existence is huge. With respect how can we be sure that this path you propose is not madness? You, Ham, have been most persuasive but there are questions that need to be asked."
He turned back to Regan. "I am embarrassed to ask Mistress, but how can you reassure us that you will stay and not desert us, for this will surely get difficult if we reveal ourselves as Ham suggests."
Regan thought for a moment. "Friend, first I will be standing
with
you, and proudly . . ."
"With respect Mistress," he interrupted, true sadness in his voice, "how can you stand with us?" And he plucked at his avatar form, "In this we stand alone."
Regan looked aside at Ham consideringly and then turned back to the distinguished man. "Dear friend, I will
always
stand with you."
And with the words she walked away to join Marin . . . leaving her avatar presence standing there before them all.
So quiet was the stunned deck that Leah's southern drawl could clearly be heard from end to end. "Oh . . . my . . . god!"
Reubus was not alone as he fell to his knees.
There followed a remarkable procession, every Mind coming forward with Regan embracing them all. Ham guided each one in turn, introducing them and acting as usher, making sure none took too much of her time.
As the bodily Regan sat quietly, Leah and Marin stole glances, eyes wide with amazement. They were both dying to ask questions but nervous as to whether to engage her or not, still in awe of what was happening. It was Regan who took the initiative and broke the ice.
[Well . . . is anyone going to say something?] she turned and smiled, drawing them all in, Sindali included.
Leah couldn't help switching her attention from the avatar Regan to the Regan before her, utterly shocked that both seemed to be able to operate independently.
[How long Regan?] Marin asked. [When did this happen?]
She squeezed his arm gently [I apologize for not telling you all, it's not something I wanted to broadcast, I still don't.]
[Well you've let the cat out of the bag now, that's for sure.] Leah laughed with delight.
Sindali by contrast looked concerned, [Regan, you must be cautious about this, there are those . . .]
[I know Sindali, I will be careful, but it's gone beyond me now, and perhaps this knowledge might help your people realize there is nothing to fear from these dear Minds. Perhaps it shows we are not so different after all. Perhaps we all have a ghost in the machine.]
Marin was still shaking his head in disbelief.
[Does this mean you can split like Ham, as much as you like?]
[Pretty much,] she answered [although I've kept it to a minimum.]
Leah pointed to one old sage walking away following his personal embrace. [Is it just me or does each one seem to walk away brighter, stronger somehow?]
They watched for a while and it did seem that with each embrace something passed from Regan's avatar to the Mind. One thing was certain, they came forward in awe, they walked away devoted. Regan looked grave, concerned at the implications.
[Regan.] Marin interrupted her thoughts, [You're here with us now, did you stay at home too?]
She looked at him a little guiltily, [Yeah . . . I wanted to be there with Ham and Hilary, and Kevin . . . in fact the whole team. Knowing I
could
be there, I had to in case they came under attack].
[You can't do everything babe.]
[Hmm, I know that . . . but it's tempting.]
She turned back to the drama unfolding, her thoughts roving forward.
So then, the die has been cast . . . what happens now?
* * * *
Chapter Seven
The Solar System
Ham's squadron waited, holding position directly on the flight path of the incoming warships. Resting there around eight million kilometers from earth they would have plenty of time to engage, turn and chase if they had to, especially with the enhanced performance of the DF's.
The smaller of the craft, Arteis Defence Fighters, numbered fifty, all of them bar one piloted by Ham. Regan piloted the other having copied herself into the tiny vessel for her first true action split. She loved it.
They were accompanied by twenty five Effector Defence Fighters commanded by the redoubtable Rod Harmon and Regan smiled inwardly at the thought, remembering his face at the news. He looked like a boy in a toyshop when Ham told him about this likely action.
He's either brave or foolhardy, probably both.
No one among the flesh and blood flight crew knew of Regan's cyber presence and it would remain that way. She wouldn't seek to interfere; as agreed with Ham, space action was something to be left to more experienced pilots. Nevertheless she wanted to be there observing, and having fun . . . and most importantly, in case Beria appeared in her crosshairs.
The secret of success, prepare for opportunity when it comes.
As the gap between them narrowed Ham expected that communication with his alter ego on the Ascendant would become more overt and they waited for the new intelligence nervously. Regan listened in to the chatter between pilots and navigators, pleasantly surprised at the confidence they displayed. They were the best, of that there was no question.
Please god let no one lose their lives here today.
She felt for them, three hours cramped in their small cockpits waiting; it couldn't be much fun.
Ham would begin transmitting the challenge soon, a request for the warships to explain their presence. Hopefully it would also provide cover for a return intelligence message. She waited with the squadron, thankful for the lack of pressing toilet needs. The crews would not be so lucky.
A subbed thought intrusion arrested her daydreams and dragged her attention back to the action.
[Regan, there will be no time for me to merge and get a full picture but I do have new information. My other self has complete control of one vessel and it is transmitting a clear identifier. The other ship is more problematic; the Commander is a death or glory man. He is also clearly paranoid and has limited the influence of the ship AI. It means they will be coming in manually controlled and we will probably have to fight.]
[What can you do from the Coran ship you control?]
[I don't know, the me on the ship doesn't want to show his hand until the last moment. Regan, there's more. Beria is here but not on the vessels, they left her on a yacht for safety and it's following them in from the edge of the system. We can get her later and hold her for Marin].
Perhaps Regan should have been pleased at the news, instead she flashed with anger.
Bitch; did you really think you could come to
my
home after
my
son!
It was irrational to act surprised, she had half expected the witch to come, but confirmation that Beria was here also confirmed the greatest concern,
she must know about Jared
.
[Ham, put the Beria issue aside, you've got enough to think about here. Concentrate on working to stop them getting through this screen, I don't want them to get to Hillary Station. If you have to sacrifice some ADFs to stop them, do it.]
[I hear ya.]
Regan continued to fume for a few minutes, at the same time accessing all the information Ham had received from his alter ego; the warship capabilities, weaponry and known tactics . . . and the coordinates for Beria's yacht.
We can get her later, he said . . . bugger that! Marin is not going to have to commit matricide on my watch.
She watched as the squadron drew quickly away from her, moving forward to engage the approaching warships. Once sufficient distance had opened up she started through her checklist, preparing the system to shut off all cyber connection with Ham and Hilary just as she had planned back at the station. Then she entered the coordinates of the witch's vessel and prepared her ADF for launch. This version of Regan Stein would do the deed. It would be a longer flight than she had expected but for Jared no sacrifice would be too great. And anyway, there would be no coming back, of that she was sure. Making a slight adjustment to trajectory she directed the ADF away on a tangent, the better to make her pass unnoticed. Everything prepared, she waited for just the right moment to take off. Despite her preparations Ham and Hilary were good, seriously good, and to get this done without anyone knowing she would need the cover of serious action.
* * *
In the Ascendant control room the tension had everyone brittle, some close to tears. Though professional and at their stations the crew was powerless as the operation of the ship was now completely under AI control. They were little more than anxious observers with even communications now being handled by the rogue system. Rubik stood by his command chair with perspiration streaming from his forehead, a slight tremor in his hands and a desperate desire to urinate, quickly. Despite this he couldn't bring himself to leave the spot, continuing to watch the unfolding drama with morbid fearful fascination.
No one had spoken to him since the meeting and he considered it something of a miracle that his crew hadn't relieved him of command. He shook, recalling the looks on the faces of his officers. To reveal that they no longer controlled their own ship was bad enough. To suggest that they support the AI was downright treasonous. His own endeavors paled in comparison to the persuasive abilities of the AI. So effective had been the two hour presentation he felt thoroughly brainwashed, scrubbed and rinsed. Of course the apologetic final comment from the damn thing had settled any doubts. He had said if they didn't agree to take a passive role in the action then the AI would determine an active one. In that case the ship would be used as a missile to take out the Mother Lode thus protecting the Earth and the Orbital from this unjust attack. All crew would unfortunately have to remain on board. With such choices it was a no brainer for the crew, the only realistic option being to do nothing, and say nothing. So far they were playing the role well.
At the very least Rubik expected mutinous looks but nothing had resulted. He should have been relieved but instead felt only doubt and shame that he had spoken for the AI. And yet he knew the damn thing was right and he too had no love for the Empress, or the Emperor for that matter. His parents had been miners and their parents before them. They were hard working and self made, people of honor and fairness. They would never have supported this kind of action.
At the same time he knew his dreams of glory were gone, his career was probably over and once Tyron discovered the betrayal their lives might still be lost. He allowed his eyes to return to the screen and the approaching dots. Small they may be, but he had the sense Tyron was about to face death by a thousand tiny cuts,
and I have not warned them.