The Broken Cage (Solstice 31 Saga Book 2) (11 page)

“Shut up!” he screamed, right in the musician's face. She stopped, but did not move. “Clean this up!” He waved his arm at the scene.

“We have a team standing by and Transport 166 is warmed up...”

His voice faded as the man stepped back from the bound woman. There was blood everywhere. The man was covered in it. It poured from between her legs.

The High Keeper was still yelling at them.

They untied her from the beam, took off the gag and blood drizzled from her mouth.

“AM I CLEAR?”

Mason completely missed the orders.

“Yes, sir.”

The hooded man easily lifted the dead girl over his head. He walked to the now open balcony doors with blood freely flowing from her ruined genitals down to his back and shoulders. The two women laughed, as he cast her body over the railing.

“I said get out! Both of you!”

***

Mason and the musician fled.

“What did he tell you to do?” she asked.

“Huh?” he asked, still in a bit of shock.

She was speaking to him.

“He will have you on that beam, if you get it wrong,” she continued.

She slapped him, hard, across the face.

Somehow, they were alone in the elevator. He didn't remember leaving the High Keeper's suite.

“Listen to me. Please,” she begged.

Mason really looked at her, for the first time. Before, he had only seen her tears. Now, he could tell that she was a little older than he was. Her long, mouse-brown hair had a sprinkle of gray in it and her eyes were very blue. He scrubbed his face with both hands, roughly.

“What did he tell you to do?” she asked.

“I don't know.”

“He said to send Transport 166, but do not allow the ship near the crash site. Drop the team off at least five miles away and have 166 standby at twenty miles. He thinks it was another deliberate act.” She grabbed his face. “Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

The elevator opened; they stepped out. And, he found himself rushing to keep up with her.

“Wait. You just saved my life.”

“I know.” She didn't slow.

“What is your name?” he asked.

She stopped.

“I'm Wex.”

He was struck silent. Stopped in his tracks.

“Yes.
That
Wex.” She ran a sleeve across her eyes, to dry them, and walked away.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The Antenna is Up

“Why you people ask these stupid questions? Barcus not try to destroy Earth. Because if wanted, we all be dead. Ben was just AI. AI’s do what we say. Why that matter?”

--Solstice 31 Incident Investigation Testimony Transcript: Ludmilla Kuss PhD, a member of the Ventura's advanced engineer team. NOTE: Dr. Kuss escaped custody the day after her testimony and remains sought for additional questioning.

<<<>>>

Jimbo was relieved to feel the gravity increase around him again as he entered the
Memphis
.

Only Cook and Muir were on the bridge when he arrived. The main display had a massive tactical map of the planet.

“Okay, what am I looking at, Pete? It sounded urgent,” Jimbo asked.

Peter Muir got up from his seat and walked in front of the console, to look at the tactical map up close and to point. Command crews were trained to never do that, to never unstrap from their seats to communicate with each other.

“We are now picking up comms traffic all over this planet. All encrypted. Several different kinds.”

Cook activated a view. Several points became bright yellow.

“These are the weapons platforms. They are also comms satellites and planetary relays. There are thirty-two of these points. This one seems to be dead.”

One of the points alternated between yellow and red.

“We found it with the optical. One should have been there, but wasn't. Then, we detected these.”

The screen filled with hundreds of green points.

“There is an entire sensor web surrounding this planet. We won't know the exact count for a few rotations, but we estimate about 336 of these mini-sats that do not have comms unless something transitions through the sensor web. I wish we had the AI to calculate this stuff.”

Cook added, “They look like the trip wires for the orbital defense platform.” Cook touched the controls and the optical unit zoomed in on one of the small satellites.

“It's about a meter across. I've never seen anything like it.”

It was just painted black. It seemed to have eyes, everywhere.

Cook sounded worried. “Jim, these mini-sats are Fixed Point to Ground Units. FPGUs never move over their single spot on the planet. They are geosynchronous sats, but not like the weapons platforms over the equator.”

“FPGUs are not the same vintage as this other colonist tech. They came about 100 years, or more, later,” Muir said, returning to his console.

“What are the rest of these indicators?” Jim gestured to the other illuminated points.

Muir ran down the list. “These are fixed ground transmitters. These are mobile ones, probably in shuttles or ground transport. These seem to be smaller comms devices that are probably handheld and communicate directly with the sats. We should know more after a full rotation.”

“This is all very interesting, but you said it was urgent,” Jimbo said.

Cook and Muir looked at each other and Cook worked some of the display controls. Another set of points became highlighted.

“This is the dead weapons platform.” The icon pulsed. “This is the nonoperational mini-sats,” Cook said, as the icons pulsed.

The six sats formed a tiny ring.

“There may be a blind spot in the sensor web, right here,” Cook said, as the implications sunk in for Jimbo.

“How big is that blind spot? Large enough to get the
Memphis
through?” Jim asked.

They looked at each other again. Muir spoke, “I don't know, sir. Sensor webs like this are designed to overlap by a significant amount, but not enough to cover a hole that big.”

Cook spoke, “Jim, if it comes down to a choice between starving to death, slowly, or taking our chances flying the
Memphis
through the eye of a needle, I'd rather die flying.”

Jimbo stood there thinking for a while, scratching his beard.

“Can we do anything to refine the data? Map the hole?” Jim asked.

“We will make that the priority,” Muir said.

“Sorry to do this to you, but I’m going to bring Bowen in on this. She’s supposed to be the sensor specialist.” Thinking first, he continued, “Ship repairs as well. As soon as Hume and Elkin get back, call an all-hands meeting,” Jim said, decisively.

***

After the Hammerhead returned, Jimbo gave them enough time to take a shower and to eat some food before the all-hands meeting. While wearing a pressure suit, you could drink but not eat, making for long days.

Jimbo detailed the findings coming in from the new sensor data.

Bowen interrupted Jim, “Do you people have any idea how sensitive those sensors are that you’re using out there?” She had her usual, condescending tone. “If you bothered to configure them correctly, you could get a thousand times the fidelity.”

When she took a breath, Jimbo replied, before she could continue, “Excellent! Thanks for volunteering, Dr. Bowen. Elkin and Ibenez will work with you to maximize the detail of our sensor readings. We are fortunate to have an expert like you among the survivors of this disaster.”

“Jimbo...Captain. All of our HUDs indicate that you have been promoted.” Ensign Weston left it hanging out there, like a question.

Before he could reply, Dr. Shaw spoke, “The new sensor antenna detected the remains of Captain Everett. Once she was officially declared dead by the system, there was an automatic field promotion. We're very sorry, sir, that it happened in this way.”

“Enough about that.” Jimbo came around to stand in front of the podium. “People, we have four months to figure out how to get off this moon before we run out of rations. Our Mass Propulsion Engines have been destroyed, so there will be no FTL escape.” He pointed over his shoulder, at the image of the planet. “That is our only option right now, and it is mined. We have no idea why they’re keeping us out. But, we may have found a tiny path through. If we work together, we may be able to get down there alive.”

Bowen injected, “Then what?”

“Survive first, escape second. There’s more going on here. We’re going to find out what.”

“Wait a second! You’re going to fly the
Memphis
to the surface?” Bowen was incredulous. “That's insane! We've seen what will happen!”

“Would you rather starve to death here?” Cook asked, mildly.

“We would be better off contacting them,” Bowen argued. “I'm sure I could convince them that we mean them no harm. Show them we’re not armed and no threat to them.”

“Yeah, that always works,” Hume said, sarcastically.

“Let me put it to you another way, Dr. Bowen. A way you might understand.” Worthington was so calm, it was chilling. “In 120 days, Cook will be piloting the
Memphis
through that hole in the planet's sensor net on grav-foils only. We will, basically, be falling to the planet. If you want to increase the chances that YOU will survive, you had better give me the best route possible. Do you understand me?”

She glared at him.

“Do. You. Understand?” he growled.

“Yes. I understand,” Bowen grumbled.

“Captain?” It was Elkin, raising her hand.

“Yes, Trish,” Jim said, changing his tone.

“We should off-load the shuttle and any other junk to get the mass down on the
Memphis
. And, repair all the hull breaches and structural damage that we can,” she said.

Cook added. “Flying her in the atmosphere and under heavier gravity could be trouble. We don't know.”

“We also need to figure out where to go when we get down there,” Ibenez added. “It may help to determine timing and minimize detection on entry. We need to map the surface.”

Kuss contributed, “Sir, Jimbo. The ship computer core. The AI. Leave it to me. Eh?”

Worthington scanned the room. The mood had changed. Hope was written on their faces.

“Muir will manage the sensor team. Cook will oversee the ship repairs. Kuss, the systems team. I want to see plans from all of you, as soon as possible.”

“Yes, sir,” echoed all three.

“Dismissed.” Captain Worthington formally ended the meeting.

***

During the briefing, no one noticed Sharon Hamilton. The briefing room cameras recorded the event and Hume reviewed it again, later. She added nothing, volunteered nothing, but seemed completely horrified at the idea of going down to the planet, even if it would save her own life.

There were also some less than subtle, nonverbal communications going on between her and Bowen.

Hume would keep an eye out.

***

Things moved quickly over the next few weeks. Now that everyone had a goal, they were driven. Even Bowen was working hard with Muir, Ibenez, Edwards and Hamilton to upgrade the sensor station.

Cook and his team managed to tow the destroyed shuttle out of the dock, allowing them to clear several tons of debris from the bay, including the two fabricators that were beyond repair.

Reactor number two was largely stripped, and its components were used to upgrade and stabilize reactor number one.

Of the three main drives, the starboard side still looked intact, but they were short a propulsion specialist.

The biggest win was probably Kuss and the AI.

After pulling the shuttle from the dock, Ludmilla Kuss reached the main core within the Emergency Module. The core itself was completely intact, but the cable trunks that led into the unit had been cleanly severed. It took ten days of painstaking testing and connecting to diagnose. While she worked that piece, Tyrrell carefully removed the destroyed core from the
Memphis
and cleared out the damaged components.

When they finally mounted and attached the unit, it was ready to test.

It failed to initialize the first half-dozen attempts. But, the startup log in was good and led them to fix one issue after another, until the AI finally powered up.

“Good morning, AI-2311. Can you run a self-check for me, please?” Tyrrell asked, from the bridge’s engineering station.

“Self-check in progress. While we wait for it to complete, Lieutenant Commander, could we handle a few housekeeping items?”

“Sure. Go ahead.”

“Please select a command name for this AI. One syllable names are preferred,” AI~2311 said.

“Any recommendations?” Tyrrell asked.

“Would you prefer a male or female AI persona?” the AI asked.

“Let's go with male,” Tyrrell replied.

“Alright. Name?” it asked.

Tyrrell thought for a few moments.

“Ben. That was my father’s name,” Tyrrell said.

“Would you like me to be formal or casual? You may change this setting at any time.”

“Let's start with casual and tune it from there.”

“Okay, Matt. My startup self-check is complete. Holy shit, what the hell happened?” AI~Ben asked.

“Maybe not that casual, Ben.” He smiled.

“Got it. I would like to confirm a few things. I am no longer in the Emergency Module. I am now integrated into the captain's pinnace as the primary AI. You do realize how far out of spec I am for this job?”

Kuss entered the bridge, just then.

“Yes. We know, Ben. But this is a far greater emergency,” Tyrrell said.

“Have you granted admin authorities to it yet?” Kuss asked.

“No, Ludmilla. I am still isolated. No access to comms, files, or control systems, yet,” AI~Ben replied. “Call me, Ben, please.”

Kuss typed on the engineer’s console.

“Read-only file access granted. Thanks.” There was a pause. “Oh, boy. You have had an adventure. I can see why you were forced to perform the emergency integration. I recommend sensor access next, no control,” AI~Ben said.

Slowly, they granted increased access to the AI~Ben. In about an hour, he had full admin and sensor control. AI~Ben was fully aware of the mission objectives and plans.

When he was completely up, he said, “Thanks, Kuss. Thanks, Matt.”

***

At the same time, AI~Ben talked to Captain Worthington, regarding the various security breaches.