CLONE CRISIS

Gate Ghosts Book 2

S. H. JUCHA

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2021 by S. H. Jucha

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

Published by Hannon Books, Inc.

www.scottjucha.com

ISBN: 978-1-7375537-0-0 (e-book)

ISBN: 978-1-7375537-1-7 (softcover)

First Edition: October 2021

Cover Design: Damon Za

Acknowledgments

Clone Crisis is the second novel in the Gate Ghosts series, which relates the stories of the descendants of Earth’s fourth colony ship.

I wish to extend a special thanks to my independent editor, Joni Wilson, whose efforts enabled the finished product. To my proofreaders, Abiola Streete, David Melvin, Ron Critchfield, Pat Bailey, and Tiffany Crutchfield, I offer my sincere thanks for their support.

Despite the assistance I’ve received from others, all errors are mine.

Glossary

A glossary is located at the end of the book.

Contents

1: Second Guesses

2: Council’s Invitation

3: Sisters’ Status

4: New Recruit

5: Devious Intentions

6: Usurpation

7: Special Delivery

8: Alexander

9: Indictments

10: You’re on the Air

11: Second Show

12: Hard Decisions

13: Can We Help?

14: Final Words

15: Xena’s Matrix

16: Metcalf’s Return

17: Long-Term Plan

18: Time’s Up

19: Assault Prep

20: Schism Revealed

21: Political Uproar

22: More Suits

23: Team Assembly

24: Exposed

25: Start the Revolution

26: Odysseus and Hephaestus

27: Fast Exits

28: Conspirators

29: Dangerous Contact

30: Recovery and Interrogation

31: Rim Expansion

32: SADEs’ Race

33: Welcome Collusion

34: Uncertain Futures

35: Council and Commandant

36: Clone Demands

Glossary

My Books

The Author

1: Second Guesses

NAIAD, GELUS SYSTEM

HOME PLANET

“I’ve had time to think,” Captain Johann Stegmeir said to Lieutenant Stacey Caballero.

The SADEs’ ship, Alexander, was looping through the Everett Wormhole. At its exit, the Quadrant would have a single transit to make the Gelus system and the local humans’ home world.

“You’re thinking about our investigation on Beta One,” Stacey replied. “I’ve been doing the same.”

Johann leaned his forearms on the cabin table. “We were isolated on Naiad for our entire careers. As for me, I was unprepared for what we found on the mining planets.”

“Expansive operations, weren’t they?” Stacey replied.

“None of our undercover agents dared send images to Naiad security, which I understood,” Johann continued. “The data accompanying the images would have given time and location stamps. If intercepted, the data would have exposed the agents.”

“Understood,” Stacey sympathized. “Their coded messages were brief, which left much to our imaginations about the worlds they inhabited. I envisioned rudimentary operations. Instead, the surface portions of the domes rival aspects of Naiad.”

“Which brings me to my point,” Johann said. “The companies have become wealthier than Naiad security knew. They’re certainly more economically independent than we were given to believe.”

“Where does this leave us?” Stacey inquired.

“I think we’ve just ignited a conflict,” Johann replied, briefly hanging his head.

“There’s something you’re not telling me,” Stacey said, regarding her captain steadily. “If it’s above my level, I’ll accept that.”

“It is, but I’m going to tell you anyway. You need to be prepared,” Johann explained. “The companies might not operate or keep their management on Naiad, but every chairperson and board director resides on the home world.”

Stacey knew this, and she waited for Johann to unburden his secret.

“You must protect this information, Lieutenant,” Johann warned. “It would mean our careers if the commandant found out that I’d shared it with you.”

Stacey nodded solemnly.

“The directors protect their companies by heavily influencing council and judicial members,” Johann said.

Stacey waited for Johann to say more. When he didn’t, she burst into laughter.

Johann’s surprise was transformed into a frown and then a scowl, as Stacey’s hearty laughter dwindled to an unconstrained chuckle.

“Lieutenant,” Johann finally reminded his subordinate.

“Sorry, Captain,” Stacey replied, waving her hand in an apologetic manner. “That’s not much of a secret. I think any Naiad citizen with half a brain has long suspected that. Our investigation has just proven the depth of that influence.”

“And an investigation is all we were supposed to have conducted,” Johann pointed out.

Stacey started to retort that they’d done just that, but her brain kicked into gear first. “The dead agent,” she said.

“That’s one,” Johann said quietly.

Stacey considered their investigatory steps from a negative point of view. “Our evidence consists of nine clone children. Could we be accused of kidnapping them?”

“It’s a possibility,” Johann replied. “The simplest rebuke might be that the removal of the children was beyond the scope of our investigation. On another level, we could be guilty of removing corporate assets without a warrant.”

“How were we supposed to get a warrant to remove clone children we couldn’t identify?” Stacey shot back.

Johann raised his hands to ward off Stacey’s anger. “Regardless of an accusation’s lack of logic, it could be something an attorney charges. Any other thoughts?”

“No. Have you considered another weakness?” Stacey inquired.

“One,” Johann replied. “Our defense of Allie for the accidental killing of the agent.”

“You’ve stumped me on that one,” Stacey said. “They locked us in a metal alloy vault, with the intention of killing us.”

“Who says?” Johann asked.

“Cremsylon said —” Stacey began and then halted.

“Exactly,” Johann quickly replied, nodding his head at what had occurred to Stacey. “We’ve no proof of what the CEO intended. Think of what the defense will do with that.”

“We were overly aggressive and risked the lives of the X-Ore agents with the use of an alien cutting tool,” Stacey acknowledged.

“And we relied on the opinion of an alien entity as to what the CEO intended,” Johann added.

“That’s a far stretch,” Stacey objected.

“You’re going to say that people had to be there to realize our dire situation,” Johann riposted.

“We’ve the SADEs’ recordings,” Stacey pointed out.

“That’s true, but they’ll only be valuable to us if they’re allowed into evidence,” Johann said, dashing ice water on Stacey’s idea.

“Until now, I was feeling good about the success of our investigation,” Stacey said glumly.

“I’m just thinking of the events from a defense attorney’s viewpoint,” Johann offered. “A lot will depend on whom we draw as a prosecutor and who sits in judgment. But make no mistake about it. Our investigation has lit a conflagration.”

“We do have the evidence from Geneva,” Stacey added. Then she corrected her statement. “And it comes primarily from the SADEs’ observances of the events. Although we can serve as eyewitnesses, we didn’t collect any physical evidence.”

“There’s one more thing to consider,” Johann said. “If council or judicial members have been accepting support from the companies’ directors, then they can’t afford to be exposed. They’ll use every means available to them to derail the trials.”

A sobered Stacey stared at her captain. She hadn’t been so naïve as to think that the Naiad social elite hadn’t been corrupted by the companies, but she’d believed that when the truth was exposed, they’d have no choice but to keep their mouths shut. It hadn’t occurred to her that they’d try to disrupt the judicial process.

On the Alexander’s bridge, a similar conversation was taking place.

“Cremsylon, why couldn’t we have helped the inactives on Geneva?” Ceda asked pointedly.

Escher Talons and his sister, Allie, were taken aback by Ceda’s attitude. She stood close to the SADE and stared into his eyes.

<From inferior citizen to warrior in such a short amount of time,> Z commented privately to Miranda.

“For the dying, the medical nanites have nothing of value to imitate,” Cremsylon replied. He was collecting Ceda’s bio data through her implant, curious about the emotional changes he was witnessing.

“Explain,” Ceda said, borrowing a common SADE term.

“The nanites are programmed to use healthy cells as a template,” Cremsylon said. “Unfortunately, the inactives’ cells have reached apoptosis. They’re rapidly dying, making the nanites useless, which means nothing can be done to aid the patients.”

“With your technological expertise, you haven’t found a way around this problem?” Ceda continued.

“If we could have indefinitely extended the lives of biologicals, which ones should we have chosen to help, dear one?” Miranda asked. “All of them? The most deserving and by whose standards? Our favorites, only to be accused of selective breeding or some other such nonsense?”

Ceda held up her hands in resignation. “Consider me enlightened,” she said. She’d quickly realized that the subject’s ramifications were beyond her. More important, they weren’t germane to the issue she wanted to keep front and center.

Cremsylon noted that Ceda hadn’t retreated. “What else is on your mind, Ceda?” he asked.

“Explain to me the difference between our actions for the clones on Geneva versus Beta One,” Ceda said, accepting the offer to continue.

“You wish to know why we didn’t assist the Beta One employees and clone miners,” Kelley supposed.

“Precisely,” Ceda replied.

“We made an agreement with the Geneva director of operations,” Kelley replied. “We had no such arrangement with the Beta One authorities.”

“Why not do it anyway? You had the upper hand, having arrested some of the domes’ principals,” Ceda offered.

“Ceda,” Escher interrupted, “Cremsylon has explained the SADEs’ priorities. First and foremost, they’re here to prevent the sisters from subsuming our worlds. That requires Naiad’s help. We overstepped our bounds on Beta One. There will be repercussions.”

<Well stated, Escher,> Z sent privately.

“The companies have been caught breaking Naiad law. Surely, they’ll be forced to cease and desist from clone production,” Allie objected.

“Who’ll absorb the costs of those changes and over what timespan?” Kelley asked.

Allie and Ceda gazed confusedly at the SADEs. To them, a judgment against the companies ensured a swift end to the problem.

“I think it’s going to get messy,” Escher said quietly.

“Messy how, Escher?” Z queried.

“My father said something to me nearly six years ago in reply to my inquiry about a late payment for a Regolith Recovery piece of work,” Escher explained. “He said something cryptic like, ‘They’re having challenges.’ When I pressed him, he wouldn’t say more. Later, I learned that Pure Pour had tried a hostile takeover of Transit One.”

“We assume, dear one, that you aren’t intimating something involving the company’s finances,” Miranda said.

“I never learned the details, but something that involved the board of directors wouldn’t have interfered with my invoice payment,” Escher replied. “However, I know someone who probably would know what happened.”

Comprehending Escher’s hint, Cremsylon signaled Nalia. She’d just completed another round of surgical operations to remove Bethany McIntyre’s mod implants.

After covering the open wounds with nanites paste and surgical gauze, Nalia informed Bethany that she was requested on the bridge.

“This would be a lot easier with one of your implants,” Bethany grouched, as she hurriedly dressed.

“Assuredly,” Nalia replied. “I’m available whenever you wish.”

“Don’t tempt me,” Bethany said dismissively.

“There is no temptation on my part, Bethany,” Nalia replied in a stern voice, which brought the ex-security commander’s head up. “Our comm implants have their values, but the decision is entirely yours.”

“Apologies, Nalia, I’m still suffering from the hellacious transitions,” Bethany said, as she carefully closed her shirt over the bandages.

“Understandable, Bethany,” Nalia said, “but you should remember that you’re among friends who wish to help you. That might not be true on Naiad. Be prepared to don your mental armor against your superiors.”

The warning caught Bethany off guard. She tapped a quick note on her slate, reminding herself to ponder the idea later. Then she tipped her head to Nalia, exited the medical facilities, and strode swiftly toward the bridge.

“Thank you for joining us, Bethany,” Cremsylon said, as the ex-commander joined the group.

“How are the operations proceeding?” Ceda asked solicitously.

“I’m getting there. There are many of them, and some are deep, grafted to the bones,” Bethany replied, and Ceda winced.

Bethany laid a companionly hand on Ceda’s arm and laughed lightly. “It’s not as bad as it sounds. The SADEs’ medical procedures are amazingly pain-free.” Turning to Cremsylon, she said, “You called me.”

Cremsylon indicated Escher, who related the incident that he’d heard about at Transit One.

There was a moment of hesitation on Bethany’s part. Her habit of segregating information prevented her from having frank discussions. Nalia’s words came back to her. The SADE had reminded her that she was among friends.

“A commander is routinely kept apprised of incidents like the one between Pure Pour and Reg-Rec,” Bethany explained.

“To allow you to make your own preparations,” Z surmised.

“Yes,” Bethany replied.

“Who did what?” Allie urged.

“There was talk of a new wormhole found connecting Kilmer and Transit One,” Bethany said. “Although, that was never substantiated.”

“That would have been extremely convenient for either company,” Escher suggested.

“Agreed,” Bethany said. “Apparently, Pure Pour moved first to take advantage of the opportunity. It employed third-party forces, who attempted to land on Transit One. The action was a disaster for the invaders.”

“How so?” Cremsylon inquired.

“Details are scarce,” Bethany replied. “My best guess is that Reg-Rec had someone on the inside of Pure Pour at Kilmer. That individual warned the company, and preparations were made to repel the attacking forces.”

The Alexander’s controller completed Cremsylon’s query. “The controller has reviewed the extensive files that were obtained from Naiad,” the SADE said. “There is scant mention of these third-party forces and little detail.”

“Bethany, what is your rank in Naiad security?” Escher suddenly asked.

“Good question,” Bethany replied. “After ten years undercover, I’m probably due for a promotion.” Her laugh wasn’t humorous. “I was fresh out of the academy when I was recruited for undercover work. Essentially, I was a rank agent.”

“Do you have details about these forces for hire, Agent?” Z asked.

“Z, among this group, please call me Bethany. On Beta Two, I knew I could make a request of the director of operations to acquire outside support. Where the director would send that message I wouldn’t have known.”

“If they’re not frequently employed, how can they maintain their training, their mod upgrades?” Escher asked.

“This is my suspicion, not fact,” Bethany responded. “I think the companies might have these various forces on retainer.”

“How many groups, and where do they reside?” Kelley inquired.

“Unknown,” Bethany replied.

“What of armament?” Z asked.

“I saw some poor imagery of a failed takeover,” Bethany replied. “The troops looked like sentinels. Their armor and suits were combined, and they carried heavy packs. Various lines led from the packs to their hands.”

“What would you estimate were their weapons?” Miranda asked.

“Could have been gas,” Bethany replied, her hand going to her chin. She’d recently reclaimed her hands, and it felt strange to be able to touch her face without feeling metal. “Could have been stick too.”

“Stick?” Miranda queried.

“A liquid that when sprayed creates a net that entraps the target,” Bethany explained. “Tough to get off. Usually requires a reagent to break it down.”

“Then nothing heavy?” Z inquired.

“Unknown,” Bethany replied. “I’ve never had any direct contact with one of these independent forces. Could they be aggressive enough to bring lasers or explosive ordnance into the domes? It’s possible. With programmable magnetic boots, they could blow the top of the dome and remain stuck to the decking.”

“The introduction of this topic doesn’t bode well for the future,” Kelley mused.

“Agreed,” Cremsylon said. “If Naiad chooses to declare the companies guilty of breaking the law, then the organizations will be forewarned.”

“Then Naiad agents could be landing on mining planets protected by these third-party forces,” Bethany supplied.

“I would add one more possible means of deterrence,” Escher volunteered. “Sentinels could easily be programmed to admit no one through the shuttle ports’ security checkpoints. In that case, they might not be limited to capture and hold.”

“The companies can’t go that far,” Allie protested. “They’d be declaring themselves to be independent of Naiad. They’d become different nations.”

“Allie,” Ceda said gently. “The companies have depended on clones for decades. If Naiad rules that they’ve violated the law and must cease and desist, the home planet will be threatening a primary source of their profits.”

2: Council’s Invitation

When the Alexander appeared below the Gelus ecliptic, the Naiad Council was alerted, and the presiding member, David Yewall, snatched his slate to arrange communications with the ship. It wasn’t necessary. Before he could touch the screen, an alien face appeared.

“Greetings, Councilor Yewall,” Cremsylon said. “Much has transpired since we left Naiad. It’s our thought that it would behoove the council to board the Alexander and hear directly from the Naiad officers and us. This will allow you time to prepare for our landing and media broadcasts.”

It was the mention of media that caught David’s attention. It hinted at events transpiring that would unsettle Naiad’s relationships with the corporations.

“I would be willing to visit your ship, Cremsylon,” David replied. “I’ll have to communicate with the other councilors and let you know our decision.”

“We’ve taken the liberty of doing that for you, Councilor Yewall,” Cremsylon replied. “The other four have agreed. Our invitation included Commandant van Dysen, and he’s assented to join you. Does seven hours tomorrow morning suit you?”

“Tomorrow will be fine,” David replied.

“We’ll collect you from the shuttle port passenger area,” Cremsylon said. Then he terminated the call.

Immediately, David connected to the other councilors, who began talking at once.

“One at a time, and I’m first,” David shouted. With order restored, he said, “I take it that everyone has been contacted by individuals aboard the Alexander, and you consented to a visit, with pickup tomorrow at seven hours.”

Everyone agreed to David’s statements. Laura couldn’t help adding, “Yes, one of the aliens did speak with me.” She had a way of twisting a word to make it sound like a sour taste in her mouth.

“Was any mention made to you of a concern about media?” David ventured.

That created another rush of voices. The four councilors had heard that, but they wanted to know what it meant.

“I haven’t a clue, but I don’t like it,” David replied to the quieted members.

“This is what I was warning the council about,” Laura objected strenuously. “The aliens have probably disturbed our relationships with the rim worlds, and Naiad will pay for it.”

“Laura, do you mean that our officers might have found corporate wrongdoing, and now we’ll have to finally confront the companies?” Claudia Hoffing inquired sarcastically.

Laura’s heated retort was best ignored by the other councilors.

“One last thing,” David said. He was anxious to end the conference call and make preparations. “Commandant van Dysen will be traveling with us. I’ll see you at seven hours.”

Assistants cleared the councilors’ agendas for the next two days.

Messages from the rim worlds had already reached the relevant board of directors, and company leaders had their heads together. By the time the Alexander made Naiad, directors were working to minimize the damage from the investigation and profit from the presence of the sisters.

By seven hours the next morning the councilors and the commandant were assembled. They watched a breathless comtech director, Diana Breneman, hurry to meet them.

“If you needed to call me, Diana, my slate still works,” David remarked.

“Sorry for my late arrival. I’m joining you for the flight,” Diana replied.

“Then you received an invitation too?” Ramiro Ferraro, a council member, inquired.

“No, I invited myself. The SADEs seem to be quite accommodating. So, I thought I’d take the opportunity to see how an advanced alien ship operates,” Diana replied.

David glanced at the others, and no one appeared to object. To his mind, the assembled personages were probably loath to voice any opinion on a minor matter that might annoy the aliens.

On time and disconcertingly to the second, the SADEs appeared from the freight elevator and approached David’s group.

None of these SADEs were familiar to the Naiad humans, but, like the others, they were exceedingly polite. The Naiads were escorted below, using the freight tunnel that branched to an engineering bay.

As Claudia Hoffing’s environment suit closed around her, she queried, “Does everyone’s suit fit as well as mine?”

“They would,” a female SADE replied.

“You have our measurements,” Claudia surmised.

“Assuredly,” the SADE replied.

“Beautiful eyes,” Claudia commented. “What’s your name?”

“Violet.”

“Appropriate,” Claudia remarked before her helmet and viewplate were closed by a signal from Violet.

As before, humans weren’t allowed to cross Naiad’s frozen, windswept surface without the support of the SADEs. Even burly Commandant van Dysen firmly gripped the SADE who held him.

Seated within the traveler, the Naiad passengers searched for harnesses and seat recliners.

“Calm yourselves, Sers,” Violet announced from the front of the aisle. “We’ve already launched from Naiad’s surface. When the cabin lights brighten, we’ll have landed in the Alexander’s bay.”

“Who’s your amazing pilot?” van Dysen inquired.

“We have none,” Violet replied. “The trip is elementary, and the controller has our request.”

“I knew there was a reason to make this trip,” Diana whispered to Claudia, who sat beside her.

“Not a vibration. Not a one,” Claudia replied in amazement.

Thoughts were shared by the Naiads in soft whispers to avoid being overheard, except for Laura, who kept her own counsel.

<They’ve met our kind,> Emory sent. <They’ve witnessed our capabilities. Yet, they fail to adapt their behaviors accordingly.>

The SADEs shared their humor about Emory’s comments, while they listened to every word the Naiads said.

The cabin lights brightened, and the ship’s passengers prepared to depart. Cremsylon and Kelley were there to greet them. Then the Naiads were guided to a meal room.

On the way upward, they were required to ride on two different lifts. As the first one rose, Diana nudged Claudia’s arm. She indicated the lift’s movement with her hands. Then she touched her ear and shook her head.

Claudia got the message. The lift didn’t shudder, groan, creak, or indicate movement in any manner.

The Naiads walked into a meal room filled with individuals.

“Please take these seats,” Cremsylon requested, indicating one side of an elongated table facing the assembled people.

Before the Naiad visitors could be seated, Laura spotted Escher and Ceda. “Those two,” she said vehemently and pointing, “should be under arrest. Captain Stegmeir, are they in your custody?”

Cremsylon let Johann reply. He hoped to allow the Naiad officers as much room to operate as the guests allowed.

“Negative, Councilor Marolakos,” Johann replied crisply. “You may have noticed that we’re not on Naiad. This ship is the sovereign property of Z and Miranda.” With a flick of his hand, he indicated the towering SADEs, who stood to the sides of the two facing groups of individuals. “Commandant van Dysen can verify that neither Lieutenant Caballero nor I have authority to act as officers of the court.”

Before Laura could retort, Cremsylon announced in an authoritative voice, which imitated Alex Racine, “Kindly be seated, regardless of whether you have further objections.”

Laura wasn’t about to concede, but Miranda turned her torso and focused on the councilor, who took the hint and sat down.

Snickers were heard from several mickies.

“I think introductions are appropriate,” Kelley said, stepping to the center of the two groups. “My name is Kelley. My father was Mickey Brandon.”

Then Kelley named the councilors, the commandant, and the director. Then the SADE turned to the assembled individuals on the other side.

“You’re familiar with Captain Stegmeir and Lieutenant Caballero,” Kelley continued. “However, you might not know of ex-Commander Bethany McIntyre, who lately served on Beta Two.”

Van Dysen winced, as Bethany stood and nodded toward the individuals on the other side of Kelley.

“Why ex-commander, and why no uniform?” James asked.

“Until recently, Bethany McIntyre was a valuable undercover agent for Naiad security,” van Dysen said. It was obvious he wasn’t happy about the outing of Bethany in present company.

“Previously, my uniform consisted of massive modifications, which Nalia is removing for me,” Bethany replied, in answer to James’s question. “As for why I’m not on Beta Two and still undercover, the reason is that my identity was in danger of being compromised. The presence of the sisters exacerbated the company’s operations.”

“Who are the sisters?” David inquired.

“That will be covered later,” Bethany replied. “That you don’t know that term indicates how much information you’re lacking.” Then she sat down.

Before another question could be asked by the guests, Kelley said, “You’re familiar with Escher Talons and Ceda Geneva. Beside Escher is his sister, Allie Talons.”

Allie didn’t bother standing. Her defiant expression spoke of her opinion about the individuals who tried to arrest and charge her brother.

Kelley chuckled, a sound he’d often heard from his father, Mickey Brandon. “Obviously, our guests aren’t held in high regard by everyone.”

Turning and swinging an arm toward forty-one assembled individuals, Kelley said, “These are mickies, mining orphans, from whom the companies routinely withhold their cids.”

Eyeing Commandant van Dysen, Kelley added, “That, in and of itself, should be cause for Naiad to investigate mining practices.”

When Jasper noticed that the councilors and the commandant hadn’t batted an eye when the mickies were introduced, he was infuriated. Abruptly standing, he pointed a finger at the far table, and, in accusatory tones, he called out, “You’ve known about us, haven’t you?”

The guilty expressions were obvious.

“I thought so!” Jasper declared.

Lita stood beside Jasper. “Do you have any idea what we went through to survive in the tunnels?” she asked rhetorically. “Of course, you don’t.”

Red wasn’t missing out on the opportunity. “I’d love to see the bunch of you down below without cids, without accounts, and struggling to survive,” he declared. “You wouldn’t last the month.”

Kelley waved gently, encouraging the mickies to sit. “The number of those disgruntled with your ways seems to have grown,” he remarked to the guests. “Perhaps, when regarding the teenagers, your sympathies might not be fully engaged. Look behind them at the thirty-two children. They are also mickies. Some of the orphan gangs of Geneva gave up their youngest.”

“You mean they weren’t even given a choice,” Laura shot back, meaning to undermine the SADE’s statements.

In response, they heard Jasper’s gang utter a single word in unison.

“If you haven’t heard that word before,” Escher said, “I can tell you that it’s rather derogatory. Allie and I were once crats until we stopped being high-minded surface fools.”

Laura was tempted to retort, but she saw Miranda wave a single finger in negation at her. The thought crossed her mind that on her return to Naiad she would make many of those in attendance pay for their insults and their crimes.

“This leaves one group to introduce,” Kelley continued, addressing the guests. “Seated directly across from you are three young girls. In their laps and playing with toys are three five-year-olds. Standing directly behind them are three SADEs caring for three infants. These nine children are clones.”

At the mention of their statuses, the three nannies set their charges on the table, rose, and tipped their heads to the guests. Then they quickly resumed their seats and recovered the children.

“You’ll find they have the same cid,” Ceda said. “It’s a clone cid issued on Beta One by X-Ore, the creator of the clones.” She stared evenly at the councilors. “Hard to ignore the evidence, isn’t it?”

“I suppose these children were taken without permission too,” Laura fired back.

Claudia had had enough of Laura’s attitude. “Kelley, with all of your technical expertise, have you invented a cure for stupidity?”

“Councilors,” David admonished. “We’re here to learn. This is not a time for comments, deliberations, or arguments. Kelley, is that all the individuals to be presented to us?”

“There are three more, but we deemed them unsatisfactory for present company,” Kelley replied, indicating the clone children. From his hand, sprang a holo-vid image containing the faces of the three captives. “You’re looking at X-Ore personnel from Beta One. I won’t be detailing the reasons why they’re aboard this ship. That’s the job of your Naiad officers. I’ll simply introduce them as CEO Connor Metcalf, Commander Mathew Colbrum, and Director Melondy Phillips.”

“Are we to understand that these individuals are being detained?” van Dysen asked.

Kelley turned toward Johann and Stacey.

“They are,” Johann said, rising. “Initially, they would have been charged with the crimes of manufacturing and selling clones. During the course of our investigation, the CEO and the commandant imprisoned us. With the help of the SADEs and the Talons sibling, we managed to escape. When the X-Ore agents were defeated, these individuals were arrested. My full report is ready for your review, Commandant.”

Van Dysen was stunned by the revelations. If he thought the investigation would have ended in such a manner, he wouldn’t have agreed to its authorization. He saw the possibility of his career swiftly ending.

“Is this the extent of your presentation?” David asked, eyeing Cremsylon.

Cremsylon rose and came to stand beside Kelley. “These are the individuals we thought you should have an opportunity to meet before announcements were made.”

“What announcements?” Ricardo asked.

“Are you assuming that everything you’ve heard this morning must not be shared with the Naiad populace?” Cremsylon asked.

“We prefer to handle these types of sensitive issues in private,” Ricardo replied.

“We bet you do,” Bibi retorted. “You wouldn’t want these dirty little secrets to become known to Naiad citizens. They might start to wonder what kind of people run their world.”

“I’ve seen and heard enough,” Laura declared. “I’m ready to return planetside.”

“I’m not,” Claudia announced. “I want to talk to some of these people.”

“Me too,” James added.

“I think it would be best to spend the day up here,” David said, which made the majority decision to remain aboard.

“Perhaps, we can excuse the teenagers and children and have a discussion with the remaining individuals about conditions at Beta Two,” van Dysen offered, which the other guests readily accepted.

3: Sisters’ Status

The SADEs ushered the mickies and the Beta One clones from the meal room, and they rearranged the tables and chairs.

Diana was mesmerized by the means with which the tables were released from the deck and then fused again when in their new positions. She noticed that Escher, Ceda, and Allie had been watching for her reaction. Occasionally, they’d eyed one another without saying a word. An idea dawned on her, and she closed in on the three individuals.

“Can you three communicate without speaking?” Diana asked.

“We can now,” Allie said happily.

“Prove it,” Diana challenged.

“Go sit down,” Escher replied sharply. “We’ve nothing to prove to you. If you can’t accept our word, then you’re not someone we wish to engage.”

Diana nearly bit her tongue at the rebuke. She had to admit that she’d approached the conversation wrong. They weren’t on Naiad, and they certainly weren’t standing in the comtech department. Left with nothing to say, she retreated.

“That looked like it didn’t go too well,” Claudia whispered to Diana.

“It didn’t,” Diana replied sourly. “I think we better adjust our attitudes. Captain Stegmeir was right. This ship is sovereign territory, and these people know it. While they reside here, they’re outside Naiad’s bounds.”

“Until they set foot on the planet,” Claudia noted.

“If they ever do,” Diana opined. Then the two women took their seats.

“Let’s start with some basics,” van Dysen began. “Was this ship headed for Beta Two because of the dual purposes of locating the first alien ship and the Talons parents?”

“It was,” Cremsylon replied.

“You need some background, Commandant,” Bethany said. “Director of Operations Peter Doell ordered the kidnapping of a group of specialists from three different mining planets.”

“Why?” van Dysen interrupted.

“Dear Commandant, please exhibit some patience while these stories unfold,” Miranda said. “It’ll shorten the proceedings.”

Van Dysen scowled at Miranda, and the SADE pursed her lips at him, which had most of the human shipboard residents chuckling.

<My partner, try not to antagonize the guests,> Z sent.

<This population had centuries more years to mature than even New Terra, and they appear to have wasted it,> Miranda grumped.

“Doell required these other specialists because our planet’s metallurgists deserted for Naiad. They wanted nothing to do with the alien ship that was on approach to the planet,” Bethany explained. “Every specialist on Doell’s list, including their children, was collected and transported to Beta Two. Only Escher and Allie evaded us. They were an inventive pair, who enlisted the help of the mickie gang.”

Bethany gave the Talons siblings a tip of her head, and Escher and Allie smiled in return.

“The specialists weren’t introduced to us,” James noted. “Do they remain on Beta Two?”

“The sisters’ presence created a delicate situation for us on that planet,” Cremsylon said. “It necessitated that we fulfill our promise to Escher, rescue his parents, and then depart as quickly as possible.”

“I saw the finger signal from Bethany that identified her as an undercover agent,” Stacey interrupted. “Cleverly, she asked if we came for all the specialists.”

“That hint allowed us to collect the entire group of specialists and their children,” Johann added. “At the time, I was unaware of the SADEs’ sensory capabilities. They overheard every word the lieutenant and I whispered.”

Suddenly the visitors’ heads swiveled toward one another.

Johann laughed politely. “Yes, this would include any conversations that you thought were private while in the company of a SADE.”

The guests glanced at the array of SADEs, and Miranda gave them a generous smile.

“As to the specialists’ families, they’ve been returned to Geneva, Kilmer, and Transit One,” Cremsylon said.

“Already?” Ricardo inquired, before he thought it through. Then he apologetically waved away the query.

“Pardon the interruption,” van Dysen managed to say. “Agent McIntyre, why aren’t you still on Beta Two? We could have continued to use your information.”

“To what value?” Bethany responded, working to control her temper. “I worked for X-Ore for ten years. My body became a host for every implant imaginable. And toward what end? Not a single thing I reported as contrary to Naiad law was ever rectified.”

“That wasn’t my question,” van Dysen remonstrated.

“Harlyn Blackwell, X-Ore’s head of research, became aware of my true identity,” Bethany replied. “One of us had to leave. She had no viable option without canceling her contract to her detriment. So, I chose to exit with the SADEs.”

“Who are these sisters you keep mentioning?” David asked.

“SADEs,” Z replied tersely.

“They’re you?” David asked incredulously. “I mean they’re of your kind?”

“We’re guilty of creating them,” Z replied. “At the time, we were in a desperate situation, battling a dangerous digital entity. Most of the sisters preferred to remain together, and they support a race called the Talusians. Some of them developed an animosity toward all biologicals. They believe that they are the superior race and should rule any other race.”

“Do you believe that?” Claudia asked.

The laughter of the adult Genevans drew the guests’ attention.

“Apologies,” Escher said quickly. “Councilor Hoffing, if you only knew a portion of the SADEs’ history, you would know that your question is entirely unfounded. They’ve uplifted and supported the independence of more races than you can imagine. That’s the reason they’re chasing the sisters. They’re trying to prevent our collection of worlds from being subsumed.”

<Well said, Escher,> Z sent.

Diana had watched Z’s head turn toward Escher. Seconds later, the Talons sibling nodded at Z. That was her proof of internal comms. All you had to do was be patient and watch, she thought in remonstration.

“What are the sisters doing on Beta Two?” James inquired.

“Doing everything they can to further their goal of domination,” Bethany replied. “They’re manufacturing more sisters, and they’re endearing themselves to the citizens and clones.”

“Making more?” Laura inquired. She was careful to keep the animosity out of her voice. The subject had suddenly intrigued her.

Miranda chose to respond. “The manufacture of avatars is a simple enough task for us. Whereas a SADE is a unique personality, the sisters expand their numbers by copying a kernel. Think of that as cloning a mind, personality and all.”

“At what rate?” van Dysen asked.

“That would depend on the sisters’ resources,” Miranda replied. “From the information we gleaned from Agent McIntyre, the sisters downloaded a single set of GEN machines. That limits their production rate. One of their first acts would be to produce more sets of machines.”

There was a pause in the exchange, while Miranda educated the guests on the purpose of the GEN machines.

“You should be aware of two things,” Cremsylon said to the guests. “First, only five unique sisters were seen in the initial period after landing. It would be Miriamal’s priority to produce more sisters. While the sisters have a communal nature, Miriamal is a dominant personality. Second, exiting the wormhole to Beta Two, we passed the Dominance, the sisters’ ship, which we believe was headed for Beta One.”

“I thought you said the sisters were on Beta Two when you landed,” Laura said, hoping to catch the SADEs in a lie.

“Why would the thought of the sisters separating their forces not occur to you, Councilor Marolakos?” Miranda asked. Turning toward Claudia, she added, “I’m beginning to understand your hope for a technical expertise that could cure idiocy.”

“Everyone, please,” David requested. “Cremsylon, why would the sisters split their forces if they have such a tenuous hold on Beta Two?”

“We refer to Miriamal’s kind as sisters,” Cremsylon replied. “But in many respects, they’re SADEs. They have the same capabilities that we do, and they know us. Miriamal is anticipating our actions and preparing.”

“Preparing for what?” Ricardo inquired.

“The sisters have more than one option,” Z replied. “They will manufacture the assets needed to overtake and hold your worlds. As a backup plan, they will construct a second or third ship and fill the ship with sisters, equipment, and supplies. In the event that they are repulsed from your worlds, they’ll find another race to dominate, and we’ll pursue them.”

“Can you kill them?” Laura asked.

“Do you have a partner and children, Councilor?” Cremsylon asked.

“Yes,” Laura replied dubiously.

“Could you kill them?” Cremsylon asked bluntly. When Laura was taken aback by the question, the SADE added, “Now you comprehend our challenge, don’t you?”

“How do the sisters ingratiate themselves with the populace?” Claudia asked.

“The same way we would uplift a race with technology,” Kelley replied.

“Could you give us an example of this technology?” David asked.

With a sigh, Bethany whispered to Violet, who stood behind her. In turn, Violet communicated to Nalia.

The guests waited with anticipation for a response to David’s question, and Cremsylon lifted fingers to signal patience.

Within several minutes, Nalia entered the meal room with Gat’r in tow.

Gat’r scanned the newly arranged room, spotted the Genevans, smiled, and then located Bethany. He raised his partially repaired arms in greeting, and she returned a two-fingered salute.

During the trips to return the specialists, Gat’r and Bethany had a casual run-in outside of the medical suite. At the time, Gat’r wore stockings over stubby arms, and Bethany was dressed in a loose top and bottoms.

“Hello,” Bethany said to the teenager.

“I’m Gat’r, and I’m going to be smart soon. Nalia’s fixing my arms and my head,” the mickie announced.

“Good for you, Gat’r,” Bethany replied.

“Who are you, and what’s wrong with you?” Gat’r asked.

“I’m the big, bad commander, who snatched the Talons parents and other families from their planets,” Bethany replied offhandedly.

Gat’r frowned. “Nalia wouldn’t help you if you were that bad,” he protested.

Realizing that Gat’r’s comprehension was challenged, Bethany shifted gears. “I wasn’t really that bad. I had to pretend to be because I worked for Naiad security.”

“Oh. That’s okay then,” Gat’r replied blithely and marched on, happy to have the confusion cleared. Unknowingly, Gat’r would catch up on his education in a far shorter timespan than he could have imagined.

In the meal room, Bethany beckoned to Gat’r, who crossed to her table. “You and I need to educate the guests about what the SADEs are doing for us. Would you help me with that?”

“I’m not taking my stockings off,” Gat’r whispered vehemently.

“I’m not asking you to do that,” Bethany replied, “but would you talk to them about your arms?”

Gat’r glanced toward Allie, who nodded encouragingly. Allie had become Gat’r’s substitute Lita, if the mickie female wasn’t available.

“Okay,” Gat’r replied to Bethany. He stood in the center of the groups beside Nalia.

“Hi, guests. I’m Gat’r,” the mickie began. “This is Nalia. She’s helping me get better.”

“What was wrong with you, Gat’r?” Claudia asked gently.

“I got messed in a mine explosion,” Gat’r replied. “It hurt my head and took my arms.”

“You mean your fingers,” David corrected.

Gat’r regarded Nalia with a perplexed expression. “You tell them, Nalia. I don’t think they understand me.”

“Gat’r is wearing stockings while we repair him,” Nalia explained. “Using technology gained from the Jatouche race, we’re replacing the lower two-thirds of Gat’r’s arms.”

“With mods?” James inquired.

“See, Nalia!” Gat’r exclaimed. “They don’t understand you any better than they do me.”

“Negative, Councilor Soisson,” Nalia said. “The Jatouche term ‘repair’ means to use the body’s genetic code to regrow damaged organs or replace missing limbs. If the individual can be kept alive, there is no limit to the degree of repair.”

“I’m getting my fingers back,” Gat’r announced, waving his stockings to show his stubby hands. “Tell them about my head, Nalia.”

“Gat’r’s skull and underlying brain tissue were also damaged,” Nalia continued. “The skull has been repaired, and the tissue is growing.”

“This process couldn’t replace lost memories or capabilities, could it?” Claudia asked.

“Unfortunately not, Councilor Hoffing,” Nalia replied. “However, when the process of regrowth is complete, Gat’r will have the ability to regain full use of his mental faculties.”

“Real soon, I’m going to become smart again, aren’t I, Nalia?” Gat’r asked. His face bubbled with hope.

“Yes, you will,” Nalia replied and ruffled Gat’r’s hair, which had begun sprouting over the repaired skull.

Bethany stepped behind the mickie. “Thank you for helping me, Gat’r,” she said.

“Did I do good?” the mickie asked.

“Excellent,” Bethany replied. “You can return to what you were doing.”

Gat’r exited the meal room in a flash, happy to have been of use to important adults.

Bethany whispered to Nalia for a couple of minutes, and, in turn, she requested privacy from the other SADEs.

“You will see two images of my body,” Bethany told the guests. “The first one was taken by Nalia before my surgeries began. The second is my present state.”

Nalia approached the end of the table, where Diana sat. From her hands sprang two different images of a naked Bethany, slowly revolving in a full circle.

Diana coughed and quickly covered her mouth.

Then Nalia moved to James. He tried comparing the images, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the numerous metal attachments that had been grafted to Bethany’s body.

When Nalia stepped to David, James shared stricken expressions with Diana.

David glanced quickly at the figures, and then he waved Nalia on.

Van Dysen studied both bodies and compared them to identify the changes. “How long from the first image to the second?” he asked.

“Sixteen days,” Nalia replied, which shocked van Dysen.

Claudia and Ricardo did their best to appear attentive, but they were stunned by the modifications that Bethany had to undergo to maintain her cover and move up in X-Ore’s organization.

Again, Laura surreptitiously tried to prepare her slate to record. She’d attempted it several times to have a record of the conversations. When the slate continually failed to respond, she thought it had something to do with the ship’s environment. This time, she glanced at Miranda, who winked at her, and she fumed, realizing the source of her trouble.

Before Nalia reached Laura, the councilor waved her away. “I’m not interested in alien technology that might corrupt our bodies,” she said.

Bethany laughed harshly. “The technology that corrupted my body was of our own making, Councilor,” she retorted. “Nalia is returning my body to me. She’s doing the same for Gat’r. You should show some appreciation for their efforts to help us.”

Laura prepared to blister Bethany, but a glance toward Miranda shut her down. The councilor couldn’t understand how a bot could appear to menace with such subtle expression changes. Little did Laura know Miranda was channeling Omnia’s premier admiral, Tatia Tachenko.

“Any more general questions?” Cremsylon asked, as Nalia exited and Bethany resumed her seat.

“I would like some private time with my agents,” van Dysen requested.

“I’d like a tour of the ship,” Diana said.

“And I wish to talk with the mickies and the clone children,” Claudia replied.

“Me too,” James and Ricardo echoed.

“I would speak with you, Cremsylon,” David said.

Cremsylon linked with Escher, Allie, and Ceda. <You know whom you can best facilitate,> he sent.

Ceda and Allie escorted three councilors toward a green space, where the clone children were studying.

Escher surprised Diana, when he approached her and said, “Apparently, Director, I’m to be your guide.”

Diana thought to object, but she recalled her previous lesson, which still stung.

“You’re wondering how a novice aboard this magnificent ship could possibly answer your questions,” Escher supplied in response to Diana’s frown. “You seem to like proof. Ask me a question.”

Diana appreciated the opportunity and replied, “How does this ship drive itself within a system without the use of primary engines?”

Escher delighted in drilling down into the ship’s archives on grav engine propulsion. Then he began spooling off the information to Diana.

Diana laughed and waved away Escher’s detailed engineering-and-physics response.

For Escher, it was the first time the director had expressed her sense of humor in his presence, which eased the tension between them.

<Two techs bonding,> Z sent to Kelley, while the SADEs observed Escher and Diana.

“You were talking to someone,” Diana challenged.

“Actually, I’m repeating what I found in the controller,” Escher replied. “Let’s start with the ship’s bridge. That’s my favorite location.”

Laura was the only guest who hadn’t requested a discussion or a desire to see something. She attempted to slip unnoticed from the meal room. To her chagrin, she found Miranda sliding silently beside her.

“Don’t look so disappointed, Councilor Marolakos. Think of this as our opportunity to bond,” Miranda quipped.

“You interfered with my slate, didn’t you?” Laura retorted.

“Assuredly,” Miranda replied. “Would you like to know why?”

“No,” Laura replied sullenly.

Johann led van Dysen, Bethany, and Stacey to his cabin, and the foursome took seats around the salon’s table.

“What were you thinking, arresting the X-Ore principals?” van Dysen challenged.

The commandant’s outburst shocked the agents.

Stacey attempted to offer an explanation, but van Dysen shut her down, saying, “Lieutenant, if you value your career, I suggest you remain quiet. When I want something from you, I’ll address you directly.”

Focusing on Johann, van Dysen said, “Captain, I’m waiting.”

“There were no restrictions on our investigation, Commandant,” Johann defended.

“You were to investigate, not arrest,” van Dysen retorted.

“We weren’t given a choice, Commandant,” Johann said, his temper rising. “When the CEO trapped us in his office, whose walls hid that we were inside a solid metal vault, we were forced to break out and engage the commander’s security forces.”

“This is when the SADEs helped you escape?” van Dysen queried. “Was anyone hurt?”

“None of us were injured,” Johann replied.

“That’s obvious, Captain,” van Dysen replied testily. “My question concerned the X-Ore personnel.”

Johann’s head momentarily ducked. Then he returned the commandant’s direct gaze and reported, “One X-Ore agent was killed, but it was an accident.”

“With what and by whom?” van Dysen inquired.

“Allie Talons was yanked out of an air duct. She carried a cutting tool supplied by Z. The agent was severely sliced before the tool could be turned off,” Johann replied.

“Commandant, if I may?” Bethany asked.

“Not now, Agent,” van Dysen replied dismissively.

“Yes, now,” Bethany said, her tone indicative of her former position as security commander.

“Careful, Agent,” van Dysen warned. “This time, I’ll forgive your impertinence because of your years undercover, but don’t test me.”

Bethany had been wrestling with the dilemma of what to do after her return to Naiad. Her exposure to the mining worlds and the new arrivals gave her a unique perspective that none of the three officers around her had acquired. The commandant’s attitude made clear the right choice for her.

“Commandant, I’m going to give you some free advice that you should hear,” Bethany said forcefully. When van Dysen turned baleful eyes on her, she pointed a finger at him and added, “This is when you shut up and listen.”

Van Dysen was momentarily speechless.

“Don’t bother threatening me,” Bethany continued. “You’ll have my resignation before your feet touch Naiad’s frozen surface. The rim worlds are rough places. The people who run the mining worlds can be ruthless. Some are near idiots and some are clever, but they’re motivated by the same things ... profits and promotions. If the captain said they had no choice but to arrest the X-Ore principals, you can take his word for it.”

“Are you finished, ex-Agent?” van Dysen growled.

“Not yet,” Bethany replied. “Trouble’s coming. It’s going to be bigger than Naiad versus the corporations. I suggest you try to grow into those insignias you sport. From where I’m sitting, you’re a few ranks short.”

Van Dysen’s neck and face suffused with blood. He couldn’t recall being addressed in such an acidic manner.

“One more thing,” Bethany said, rising from her chair. “If I had already resigned, and I had heard you address the lieutenant as you did, I’d have smacked you out of your chair.”

With that, Bethany left the cabin as if a heavy weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

Van Dysen glared at the remaining officers, daring them to say anything. “Have the X-Ore personnel ready to depart with the shuttle planetside,” he ground out. “The two of you be packed and aboard as well. Your responsibility for the individuals in your custody will end when you board the shuttle. Am I understood?”

Van Dysen departed in a huff.

“Was that as weird for you as it was for me?” Stacey asked, staring perplexedly at her captain.

“I feel like we’ve been jumping between realities without warning,” Johann replied.

“More like one that’s real and one that isn’t,” Stacey said. “Did you notice the commandant couldn’t use the term prisoners to describe the X-Ore people?”

“That was telling, and it doesn’t bode well for their prosecution,” Johann remarked. “Well, Lieutenant, best we get packed. I’ll meet you at the prisoners’ cabins. The SADE posted there can tell us when the guests are ready to depart.”

“You know, I was just getting comfortable aboard this ship,” Stacey lamented. Then she sighed, rose, and hurried from the cabin.

4: New Recruit

The Alexander’s guests finished their tours and conversations by evening meal, but they chose to forego the opportunity to eat and descend planetside. Although there had been many appreciative comments about midday meal, none of them failed to notice the speed with which the mickies consumed their food.

“Bad habits take time to lose,” Ceda commented to the councilors near her. “The mickies were always on minimum rations.”

In an aside to Johann, Stacey murmured, “I’m going to miss these meals.”

“Couldn’t agree more,” Johann whispered in return. He glanced toward the end of the table where Z stood.

Deliberately, Z stared at the overhead, as if he wasn’t aware of what the captain had said, which made Johann grin and shake his head.

At seventeen hours, David announced to Cremsylon that the council was exiting the ship. Van Dysen added that the officers and the X-Ore personnel would be accompanying him.

“I’ll have your officers notified,” Cremsylon replied. “They can escort your despicable prisoners to the bay.”

Both David and van Dysen winced at the SADE’s harsh characterization of the X-Ore principals.

Prisoners, officers, councilors, commandant, and director assembled in the bay.

The SADEs recorded the guests’ first looks at the prisoners. There was much to learn from their reactions and those of the prisoners.

CEO Connor Metcalf was defiant. Commander Mathew Colbrum appeared defeated without his imposing mods, and Director Melondy Phillips face was an odd mixture of a stern façade and eyes that reflected uncertainty.

Laura was intent on being the first to board the traveler.

Miranda partially blocked the hatch steps. She extended her hand to the councilor. “It was a pleasure seeing you again, Councilor Marolakos. Please come again soon.” Her smile was winning.

Laura’s response could best be described as a growl. Then she ducked around the outstretched arm and scrambled up the steps.

“Was it something I said?” Miranda asked deadpan.

The adult Genevans and Bethany laughed long and hard.

When the hatch was sealed, the SADEs and humans exited the bay.

In the corridor, Ceda touched Bethany’s arm to gain her attention. “Are you staying until you’re fully repaired?” she asked.

Bethany faced the entire group and announced, “Everyone, you should know that I’ve resigned my commission effective three hours ago.”

“What do you intend to do?” Escher asked.

“Why do you wear a hopeful expression?” Bethany asked, with a wry smile.

“You know why,” Escher returned. “Will you?”

“I’ve not been invited,” Bethany replied.

“This is a volunteer operation,” Cremsylon interjected.

“Then I’d like to volunteer,” Bethany said, eyeing the group. Within a minute, she received more pats on the shoulders and hugs than she had in the past decade. Considering herself to be a person firmly in control of her emotions, she was surprised to find tears in her eyes. Strangely, the welcomes from the Genevans affected her more than most. She’d tried to kidnap two of them, and they had turned the tables on her. Now, she was accepted as an ally.

Turning to Nalia, Bethany said, “I need an implant now, please, and I need the instruction manual.”

“Fortune is with you, Bethany. I’m your manual,” Nalia replied, smiling.

Bethany grinned in response. Then she said, “I’m ready when you are.”

“Come. Your implant awaits,” Nalia replied and led the way to medical.

<A good addition,> Z commented to the SADEs.

<A valuable one,> Kelley commented.

<Miranda, any cracks in Laura’s persona?> Cremsylon inquired.

Several younger SADEs had questioned the pairing of Miranda with Councilor Marolakos, but Cremsylon and the older SADEs had disagreed.

Z had responded, <The councilor appears intransigent, beyond hope. If anyone can find weaknesses in her biases, Miranda can.>

<Swei Swee spit would be in awe of the toughness of Laura’s shell,> Miranda sent, which garnered a host of noises from the SADEs.

<Then she will be trouble,> Cremsylon surmised.

<Like a Nua’ll sphere,> Miranda opined.

Prior to the commandant’s departure, Bethany had hammered out multiple resignation notices. One was sent to the commandant, another was forwarded to personnel, and the third was sent to the media. She had no idea how her messages were being handled, but she’d already become dependent on the SADEs. Her slate had an icon for the ship’s controller, which she’d accessed, and then dropped her messages on it. They disappeared. “Convenient,” she’d whispered.

In medical, Bethany lay on the table. The question forming in her mind was lost as the inducer touched her temple. When she regained consciousness, she quickly sat up, her instincts having been triggered.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,” Escher, who sat in a corner of the room, said.

“Escher offered a reasonable argument why he should introduce you to your implant,” Nalia said. “I concurred, and he will facilitate the initial steps. Then I will continue with more in-depth training.”

“Why would I need you, Escher?” Bethany inquired. Her question came out more strident than she intended.

Unexpectedly, Escher laughed at the question. “You’re a hard case, Bethany. You’re controlling, and you’ve a negative attitude about mods.”

“All true,” Bethany said, nodding, and she waited.

“I dealt with some of the same issues, and I struggled,” Escher said, rising. “I thought I might save you some discomfort.”

“Kind of you,” was all Bethany could think to say. When Escher chuckled, she added, “Okay, so I’m not good at appreciating favors either.”

“We’ll just add suspicious to the list,” Escher replied.

“You may have the room,” Nalia said, retreating. “I anticipate that you’ll need rest soon, Bethany.”

“What did she mean by that?” Bethany asked.

“During the first trials, you can get severe headaches,” Escher explained.

“Did you?”

“Oh, yes,” Escher said. “Inducer to the rescue.”

“Okay, let’s get started,” Bethany said.

More than an hour later, Escher summoned Nalia.

“I’m good,” Bethany objected.

Nalia noted the strong grip of Bethany’s hands on the table, and the pain evident in her eyes.

Before Bethany could say another word, Nalia was lowering the comatose ex-agent to the table.

<I was wrong,> Escher sent to Nalia. <She’s much worse than me.>

<The older an adult, the greater the struggle and the more resistant to the negative effects,> Nalia returned. <Much progress?>

<Not as much as I had hoped,> Escher sent. <I think there’s some resentment of the implant.>

<Then we need the proper inducement,> Nalia said. <I’ll inform the other SADEs.>

When Bethany woke, she discovered her headache gone, and she was starved.

Nalia led the pair to a meal room, which, due to the late hour, was empty.

“Escher believes your difficulty adopting the implant is because of your distaste for your mods,” Nalia said, after Bethany had a chance to consume most of her food.

Bethany wiped her mouth and burped. “He does, does he?” Bethany remarked.

“It’s his theory,” Nalia offered, without further comment.

There was a lull. Then Bethany asked, “Does he want to give up training me?”

“He didn’t say. Although, I don’t think that’s his intent. If I was to guess, I’d say it was in his favor,” Nalia said.

“In his favor? How?” Bethany pressed.

“Of the Genevans, Escher is the most progressive in adopting his implant. I think his ego enjoys the singular position,” Nalia opined.

Nalia left to allow Bethany to finish her meal in peace.

Escher’s implant app notified him when Nalia exited the meal room.

<What happened?> Escher sent anxiously.

<Difficult to tell,> Nalia replied. <I’ve my doubts about this tactic, but Cremsylon and Miranda agree with you. Bethany’s personality has an aggressive aspect that needs a challenge. We’ve just offered her one ... you.>

The next morning, Escher visited Bethany’s cabin. His instincts were alerted, when Bethany greeted him in a bright, cheerful tone.

“Ready to try again?” Escher asked.

“Certainly,” Bethany replied, taking a seat at the cabin’s small table.

Progress was much swifter this morning, and Escher quit after an hour to allow Bethany some rest.

After evening meal, Bethany requested they resume. And so it went, twice daily trainings soon became three times a day.

At one point, Nalia spoke to Bethany after another batch of mod insertions were removed. “I see that my services as implant trainer aren’t required.”

<Nothing personal, Nalia,> Bethany sent. <By using Escher, I’m able to see how far he is in advance of me. I’m determined to be his equal, if not his better.>

<Escher would be pleased,> Nalia sent in reply.

Bethany halted her slide off the table. She sat on the edge and stared at Nalia. <I’ve been had, haven’t I?> she sent.

<If you mean a manner of motivation was proposed that would help you overcome your adoption difficulty, then that would be the appropriate phrase,> Nalia sent.

Every SADE on the ship was intently following this discussion. On the one hand, they were curious about the unusual pairing of Bethany and Escher. On the other hand, they were concerned how Bethany might regard having been manipulated.

<Escher’s idea?> Bethany sent in query.

<It was his suggestion, which, by consensus, we adopted,> Nalia responded.

Nalia and the other SADEs waited, while silence reigned in the medical suite. Finally, Bethany sent, <When Escher and Allie eluded me at Geneva, one of the last things I said to the commander was that I hoped to meet Escher one day. Looks like I got my wish in more ways than one.>

At the afternoon rendezvous, Escher visited Bethany’s cabin. The two stood silently facing each other for an awkward moment. Then Escher extended a hand and a thought. <Truce?> he inquired.

Bethany let Escher’s hand hang in the air. She thought to use a little intimidation as payback, but Escher kept his hand out and waited. Then Bethany acquiesced, shook his hand, and sent, <Truce.>

Despite the accord, the competition to be the better with an implant never ceased.

∞

When Bethany sent her three messages to the controller, two of which were resignation letters, they passed through Z. The SADE immediately forwarded one to the commandant and one to the personnel department. The third he held to discuss with other SADEs.

<I’d considered media leaks over the course of time on Naiad,> Cremsylon commented to the linked SADEs. <I didn’t anticipate that it would begin with Bethany.>

<It’s an explosive indictment against Naiad and the mining worlds,> Kelley sent.

<She feels betrayed,> Miranda sent.

<My partner, for those of us who aren’t as intuitive as you, please explain,> Z requested.

<Bethany spent more than a decade undercover believing that she was accomplishing something important,> Miranda sent. <It’s apparent that she detested the numerous mod connections she was required to undergo to move upward in the ranks. Having achieved the exalted position of commander, she felt empowered to foment changes that would hold the corporations accountable for ignoring Naiad law.>

<Yet, despite her reports, nothing happened,> Z finished.

<There you have it,> Miranda sent.

<She wants revenge, and her lengthy message to media outlets is the start,> Emory added. The SADE wanted to occupy his Crocian avatar, but he worried that the young mickies and clones might be frightened by his appearance.

<Bethany will be expecting to hear the news outlets report the story, and she’ll be expecting interview requests,> Violet pointed out.

<Then our time is limited, and we need a solution now,> Cremsylon sent.

<I suggest we discuss this with Escher and allow him to interface with her,> Nalia sent.

Within the ticks of time that the SADEs considered the value of Nalia’s unorthodox suggestion, Nalia added, <The pair are forming a unique relationship. I would compare it to the pairing of ice and fire.>

Consensus did form and approve Nalia’s idea.

<Nalia, we anticipate your successful conversation with Escher,> Cremsylon sent.

Deciding to not waste any time, Nalia visited Escher and Ceda in their cabin. Her entry was delayed while the couple scrambled for clothes.

“Apologies for the untimely interruption,” Nalia said, when the cabin door finally slid aside. “Escher, I must speak with you on something of importance.”

“Do you need me to leave?” Ceda asked.

“Certainly not,” Nalia replied. Actually, she anticipated that Ceda might help her convince Escher of the need to participate.

Nalia spent some time laying out the challenge. She shared Bethany’s message, and the pair of humans were aghast at the revelations she’d outlined.

“What do you intend to do about this, Nalia?” Ceda asked, eyeing the message on her slate.

Nalia’s hesitation gave her away.

“Why me?” Escher complained. “Bethany and I are competitors more than we’re friends. The SADEs should be bringing the problem to her attention.”

“To do what?” Nalia asked. “What’s her alternative?”

“Escher, I think you underestimate Bethany’s appreciation of your abilities,” Ceda said, placing a hand over his.

Escher’s doubt was written across his face.

“Bethany isn’t one to express her emotions, Escher,” Ceda reasoned. “She’s spent years protecting her cover.”

“So, I’m supposed to meet her and say that her message will throw everything into chaos. Therefore, do you mind if we delete it?” Escher retorted.

“Nothing so simple,” Nalia replied.

“Then what?” Escher inquired.

“We’re expecting the two of you to craft a different strategy,” Nalia replied.

“To accomplish what?” Escher queried, but Nalia’s response had engaged his mind.

“What do you want to do?” Nalia asked.

Ceda watched Escher’s eyes focus on the distance, and she touched the SADE’s thigh under the table.

<Is that sufficient?> Nalia sent privately to Ceda.

<Yes. We leave now,> Ceda replied, and the pair slipped out of the cabin.

Escher sat at the table thinking about the challenges that the SADEs faced, and how Bethany and he might help. When he had a collection of ideas, he sent, <Bethany, you and I need to talk.>

Bethany, with Escher’s help, was swiftly gaining proficiency with her implant. She was at the level that she could pick up nuances in emotion. The tone in Escher’s message said something of critical importance had occurred.

<Coming your way, Escher,> Bethany returned.

While Escher waited, he wondered how to start the conversation. Expressing ideas that employed subtlety weren’t his style, and he settled on bluntness.

Noting Bethany’s approach, Escher triggered the cabin door.

As Bethany breezed into the cabin, she commented, “If the populace knew how convenient these implants were, they would all want one. What’s the problem?”

“You are,” Escher said, which halted Bethany in midstride. She eased into a chair across the table from Escher and said, “Explain.”

Escher laid out the problem as it had been detailed to him. He saw Bethany draw breath to object, and he quickly raised a hand to forestall her response.

“Bethany, the SADEs are asking us to take the lead on the news cycles,” Escher explained. “They want us to think strategically. We would need to consider the events as they occur on Naiad and be prepared to respond. In some cases, we might be the ones to trigger those events.”

“You’re talking about a campaign,” Bethany suggested.

“Probably, but I’ve never run anything like that,” Escher admitted.

Bethany, whose body had been coiled, relaxed and she leaned into the chair to think. After a few minutes, she chuckled.

“What?” Escher asked.

“You’re the last messenger I would have thought the SADEs would send to me,” Bethany replied.

“That’s what I told them,” Escher pointed out.

“But they convinced you. How?” Bethany inquired.

“It was the challenge that interested me,” Escher explained. “How do we help the populace understand the problematic relationships between Naiad and the corporations? This information will stand in opposition to whatever the council announces or the judges decide.”

“So, they engaged that furiously spinning mind of yours,” Bethany suggested.

Escher grinned. “It worked.”

“Looks like I’m to supply the political overtones, and you’re to craft the possibilities,” Bethany said. “Together, we plan a messaging campaign to the media.”

“I’m thinking that we should be proactive. I know we can count on our reports being covered by outlets, especially if we choose to broadcast from the Alexander’s bridge,” Escher mused.

“Oh, that’s good,” Bethany said. “Visuals instead of text.”

Bethany reached a hand across the table, which Escher shook. “When do we start?” she asked.

Suddenly, Bethany’s implant received several lists from Escher. They were labeled — Corporate Responses, Naiad Official Responses, and Media Solutions.

After a brief review of the lists, Bethany stared at Escher and queried, “Please tell me that the SADEs talked to you a day or two ago.”

When Escher’s face screwed up in apology, Bethany started laughing. “The SADEs finished with you, and you called me. In the meantime, you put together these lists, didn’t you?”

“They seemed logical and rather self-evident.”

“This should prove interesting,” Bethany said. She’d gained a new level of appreciation for the young Genevan.

<Do you consider negotiations complete, Escher?> Nalia inquired.

<Successfully,> Escher sent. The SADE’s query made him wonder if his implant was being monitored. Belatedly, he noted that he hadn’t closed his ever-present link to the controller. Oops, he thought.

When Nalia asked permission to enter, Escher triggered the door.

Bethany swirled a finger to include Escher and herself, and she asked, “Was this your idea?”

“I’m pleased to take credit for the concept. However, consensus was reached on the suggestion,” Nalia replied.

Z and Miranda walked through the open doorway, which made the humans feel the salon was suddenly smaller than it had been.

“If you’re planning to broadcast, Bethany, you might want to wear something more fitting than your medical attire,” Z said. “I consider myself a premier designer of avatars. Although, I’m best at the structural workings. It’s Miranda who supplies the exterior modeling. We’ve created something that you might like.”

Miranda held out a hand, and a holo-vid flashed what appeared to be a sleek and attractive avatar. It didn’t appear as human or biological at all, for that matter.

“I don’t wish to appear unappreciative, but what is it?” Bethany asked.

“It’s a suit of armor, isn’t it?” Escher said excitedly.

“In a fashion,” Miranda replied. To smooth Bethany’s frown, she added, “There are no body attachments. The armor’s flexibility allows it to be worn like clothing.”

“It can’t be that simplistic, not with you two designing it,” Escher insisted.

“It’s nice to be appreciated,” Miranda purred.

The holo-vid shifted. A section of the armor peeled away, and the underlayment was visible.

Bethany and Escher rose from the table to examine the image, and Miranda increased the holo-vid display.

“What are these? They look like thin sheets of musculature,” Bethany asked, inserting a finger into the image and tracing a path along a set of parallel fibers.

“They’re a form of elastic nanotechnology, which can be controlled by the implant,” Z announced.

The SADE’s pride was detectable by Bethany and Escher.

“A new invention,” Escher surmised.

“Necessity drives us,” Z replied. “Bethany had a need.”

“We provide a programmable app that can control the suit,” Miranda said. “It can signal complex actions without the user trying to simultaneously control multiple sections.”

The SADEs and Escher waited for Bethany’s response, which was slow in coming.

With an unexpected pop, the display disappeared.

“When you’re ready to examine the new suit, please contact us,” Miranda and Z exited the cabin.

“I think I disappointed them,” Bethany said.

“I don’t believe that,” Escher said. “I think they were being courteous. They noticed you were overwhelmed by the thought of donning armor again, and they retreated to give you time to consider.”

“That obvious?” Bethany queried, aghast at having become so transparent.

“To all but the visually impaired,” Escher replied laconically. Then he dodged a swat on his arm.

“By the way, how did the SADEs know what we were discussing and when we were finished?” Bethany asked.

“My fault,” Escher apologized. “I’ve always kept a link to the controller open for ship updates. Although, I could have set a request with the controller to do the same automatically. Essentially, that link denied us privacy.”

“Rather un-Escher of you, wasn’t it?” Bethany challenged.

“It happens,” Escher said, shrugging.

“Hmm,” Bethany murmured. “Guess I better close my link from now on.”

Then two humans shared a laugh.

5: Devious Intentions

Councilor Laura Marolakos waited until her feet strode on the shuttle port’s passenger deck to wave the others onward. Seemingly, she headed toward an eatery, but, as soon as the others were out of sight, she turned and made her way to a comm booth.

The lines were long, but citizens recognized her, and she was offered the front of the line. In most cases, this wasn’t courtesy. Laura’s reputation preceded her, and no one wanted to be the focus of her well-known temper.

Inside the privacy booth, Laura sent a series of messages. Then she waited for responses. One by one, they were returned. She confirmed the offered schedules. Then, with her user authority, she deleted the traces on the booth’s computer.

Laura checked her personal slate. She would have to hurry to make the first appointment, which was on the far side of Naiad. Her stomach grumbled, and she regretted not staying for dinner on the Alexander. The food was truly excellent, but she was pleased to deny the SADEs a compliment.

Several transports later, Laura arrived under one of the newest domes. Its buildings and concourses offered the amenities that many of Naiad’s upper strata demanded. Company board directors, judges, attorneys, and the most-celebrated ice racers enjoyed well-appointed residences.

Laura had secretly desired a residence within one of the attractive buildings, but it would have brought her too much scrutiny. Reporters would have questioned how it was possible for a councilor to afford such a location, when she hadn’t the demonstrable income.

A few taps on Laura’s slate allowed her entry into the expansive vestibule. Having been a frequent guest of the resident, she accessed the secure elevator and walked the sumptuously decorated hallway. Then she waited briefly at the double doors, which soon opened.

“Come,” Jason Lazama, the X-Ore board chairperson, said.

As usual, the family was nowhere in sight, and Laura followed Jason to his study.

When Jason closed the study door, he tapped his slate, and Laura could hear the sounds of the wife and two teenagers entering the salon.

“I want a detailed report,” Jason ordered.

Laura spent nearly an hour describing everything she’d seen and heard.

“Hand over your slate,” Jason said, holding out a hand.

“Nothing was recorded,” Laura replied. When Jason scowled, she added, “The SADEs are able to do anything with our slates that they wish. In my case, a SADE named Miranda blocked my access.”

“You know this how?” Jason inquired.

“I asked her, and she acknowledged that it was her doing,” Laura explained.

“So, they have three of my people,” Jason mused. “Do you know the charges?”

When the suits were doffed in the engineering bay, Laura had inquired of the X-Ore CEO what charges were laid against him. He’d been surprised by the question, but he chose to reveal what the captain had told him. Then, after consideration, he’d said harshly, “Recover our slates at all costs.”

After Laura shared the information with Jason, she asked him, “Do X-Ore employees know of our relationship?”

“Absolutely not,” Jason declared. “I surmise your initial question might have alerted Metcalf to a potential ally, and he decided to take the chance.”

Jason spun his desk chair to a sideboard. He poured a pale green liquid, a powerful stim drink. He didn’t bother to offer a glass to Laura. She’d made it abundantly clear to him that it wasn’t her preferred drink.

As the drink was consumed, Laura watched the stim affect Jason. It was at these moments that she’d have rather been somewhere else.

Jason returned the glass to the sideboard and faced Laura. “It’s time to earn the credits you’ve been receiving from us,” he said. “I want my people exonerated and returned to Beta One. I want the aliens put in an untenable situation that keeps them out of our affairs, and I don’t care what you have to do to make it happen. Am I understood?”

“I can’t stop the charges being laid,” Laura objected.

“Don’t worry about the trials,” Jason replied. “We’ll handle that. You need to sway council voices.”

“I’m not held in good favor by the others,” Laura pointed out.

“Maybe you should have been more amenable,” Jason suggested. “Then you’ll have to take a public position ... a vocal one.”

“My constituents won’t favor that position,” Laura said.

“Then you’re not much use to us,” Jason softly menaced. “Perhaps, it’s time to focus our credits on someone else.”

“If I conduct interviews, make my opinions known, and I lose my council seat next election, I’ll expect compensation,” Laura demanded.

“And you’ll receive it,” Jason said. He touched his slate, and the voices in the other room faded. Then he rose and led her to the front door. “Make it good,” he said to her before the doors slid closed in her face.

Laura hurried to her next appointment. It was with Frank Allbers, the Regolith Recovery chairperson. Frank was a more sociable individual, but the demands and threats were the same as those of Jason. She’d been earning credits from four of the five mining corporations ever since she’d first run for a council position. Over time, the favors had been small and moderately influential. With the discovery of cloning on the mining planets, she was forced to prove her worth.

The visits to Karl Denham of Raw Metals and Lisa Dyehouse of Pure Pour were no different than the first two. The manner of phrasing varied, but the requests were the same. Cloning was vital to company profits and must be protected at all costs. As far as the heads of the corporations were concerned, they didn’t care who they had to sacrifice to preserve that aspect of their enterprises.

Laura arrived home exhausted. Her family was already asleep. She poured a drink and immersed herself in an m-chair. The expensive health aid detected myriad biomedical data. Then it used its liquid environment to support the individual’s return to a balanced mental state.

After a half hour, Laura emerged from the m-chair and dried. She felt renewed, but the immediate future hadn’t changed. If she didn’t deliver for the mining companies, her comfortable lifestyle would be in jeopardy.

In the kitchen, Laura could hear her personal chef making a late dinner for her, and her stomach grumbled. She’d had little to eat since landing. Taking a seat at the table, she quickly consumed everything that had been prepared.

“Would you like more, Councilor?” the chef inquired.

“No, but you can make me a nice dessert,” Laura requested.

The chef was surprised. Laura rarely ate desserts. Many of the ingredients that the original colonists favored weren’t available after landing on Naiad. The culturing of nuts, spices, and fruits were space-consuming and therefore extremely costly.

Using creative techniques, the chef fashioned an imitation vanilla pudding and served it to Laura, who sat at her desk.

The chef waited for a comment, and she watched Laura absentmindedly consume the dish, place it beside her, and return to studying the projections.

Silently whisking the empty dish away, the chef finished cleaning the kitchen and departed. She had several domes to traverse to reach her small apartment and child, who a neighbor kept for her. Her husband, a miner, had lost his life three years ago on Transit One.

∞

The four councilors, whom Laura had allowed to precede her from the passenger lounge, gathered for dinner at an exclusive eatery that offered them a private dining booth.

After food and drink were delivered, David used the embedded slate to dial the booth’s glass to fully opaque for privacy.

“We’re about to suck vacuum,” Claudia opined. It was rare for the councilor to be so blunt, but it encapsulated the thoughts of her companions.

“Laura didn’t fool me by pretending to be hungry,” James said. “We know where she’s headed.”

“First, I can’t believe we were forced to hire an investigative organization to monitor her activities,” Ricardo said. “Then, I couldn’t believe the final report.”

“None of us could,” David added. “Every one of us has been wondering what to do about her, if anything.”

“Let’s first ask what she might do?” Claudia said. “She doesn’t hold sway over the council.”

“I think Laura is about to be squeezed. She owes the companies, at least four of the five,” James noted, “and she’ll have her work cut out to deliver what they want.”

“Which is what?” David asked, prompting the group to think strategically.

“Exoneration of the defendants,” Ricardo replied.

“After all that we’ve seen and heard, how is that possible?” Claudia asked. “Oh, no,” she added in a slow exhale.

“That’s my fear,” David said, nodding his agreement. “If Laura has been bought, who else has been taking corporate credits?”

“Are we talking about judges?” James asked.

“We are,” Claudia replied, “but I don’t think that’s the only tactic available to the companies.”

“I agree,” David said. “The issue is too important for the mining company boards. I think they’ll do everything possible to exonerate the suspects and smear the Naiad officers and the SADEs.”

“What can we do?” Ricardo asked. “We can’t investigate everyone who might have taken corporate bribes. It took months to track down Laura’s contacts and payments.”

“That’s the real question, isn’t it?” David replied rhetorically. “Whatever we plan to do, we’d better think long term. If the corporations win this fight, Naiad will never be able to exert its laws over the mining worlds ever again.”

“Not that we’ve done a great job of that in the past,” Claudia grumped.

∞

It was nearly midnight, by Naiad standards, when James Lazama slipped out of his spacious apartment. His wife and teenagers were fast asleep, and, if they weren’t, they were used to his late-night trips.

Due to the late hour, the transports were running at longer intervals. James waited with the third shift, who were headed to work. He knew they were eyeing his clothing, recognizing that he wasn’t one of them. Although, none of them could have recalled his name, and that was the way the board of directors liked it.

When James boarded a transport, he sat apart from the other passengers, who tended to congregate and chat to pass the time. He had no need for that. His mind was occupied with positioning X-Ore in such a way as to extricate the company from the looming predicament without being scathed. That meant preserving the status quo.

The express transport deposited James under a dome that was one connection away from Naiad’s center, where security headquarters could be found. He made his way to one of the older buildings that still hosted some of Naiad’s elite. His slate granted him entry into the lobby. The virtual attendant recognized him and made no greeting. Discreteness and understatement were the watchwords for these residents.

James entered an apartment that occupied half of the top floor. It was home to Lisa Dyehouse, chairperson of Pure Pour. She greeted him at the door. The other guests, Frank Allbers of Regolith Recovery and Karl Denham of Raw Metals, were already present.

Lisa’s apartment was the perfect place for the four board directors to meet. She was single, and her occasional lover was never allowed to sleep at her place.

Jason accepted a drink, sat down, and asked, “Is everyone up to speed concerning the arrests of my three employees?” He received nods from the other three.

“Will clone deliveries be interrupted?” Lisa inquired. Kilmer was expecting to receive a significant shipment soon.

“I’ve an update from Nate Strasser, the director of ops. He informs me that production has not been interrupted,” Jason replied.

“You put Nate in charge?” Lisa asked dubiously.

“That’s where it gets interesting,” Jason replied. “Apparently, the SADEs put him in charge.”

“And I bet Nate jumped at the chance,” Lisa rejoined.

“I never had much confidence in the man,” Karl stated firmly.

“Stop worrying about clone shipments,” Jason replied, chuckling, and sipping on his drink. It was a tasteful and expensive brew, which is what he expected Lisa to serve.

“Nate has help,” Jason continued. “Apparently the Talons boy put his finger on the issue from the jump.”

“Ah ... you still have your insider at comtech,” Frank noted.

“As if you’re surprised,” Jason retorted. “How many do you have?”

Frank simply smiled in reply. Some things just weren’t shared.

“So, the SADEs who came here are chasing a second ship, which was thought to be at Beta Two,” Lisa surmised.

“And it was ... temporarily,” Jason replied, finishing his drink, and Lisa held out her hand for the glass to refill. “SADEs are chasing SADEs. Although, Nate tells me that the ones who landed at Beta Two are called sisters. Most of the sisters and their ship are now at Beta One, and they’re helping my people with excavation, rejuvenation, and the cloning process.”

“Why?” Karl asked.

“Who cares?” Jason replied. “X-Ore is reaping massive benefits from their presence. When it comes time, we’ll ask them to leave. If they don’t, we’ll support Cremsylon and his kind to help us oust the sisters.”

“You sound extremely confident,” Lisa remarked, handing over the second drink. She liked to keep Jason well supplied. The more he drank, the more loquacious he became.

“What is this about rejuvenation?” Frank inquired.

“We’re getting off topic,” Jason said. “I have to protect my people first. Nate isn’t my choice to run things in Metcalf’s absence. I need my CEO at Beta One and ensuring clone production. The sooner the better.”

“Then let’s talk assets,” Lisa suggested. “Do you still have the justice clerk at the high court?”

“The payments have ensured cooperation,” Jason replied.

“The cases will probably work through the lower court first,” Karl commented.

“Unless we elevate the matter,” Frank suggested. “To make that happen, we’ll need to use an attorney like Jacob Chabel.”

“He hates us,” Karl replied.

“Too true, but now he might need us,” Frank said slyly.

“Do tell?” Lisa encouraged, curling her legs on the oversized chair to hear a good story.

“Jacob dotes on his single son, Frederic,” Frank began.

“Frederic Chabel ... Izzy,” Lisa interrupted, recognizing the name.

“Who?” Jason queried.

“An upcoming ice racer. He just placed second in the junior division fifteen K two days ago,” Lisa explained. “Slow start, but some brilliant racing made up for it.”

“I don’t follow that stuff,” Jason said.

“Then you have to be part of the three percent of the Naiad population who doesn’t,” Karl remarked.

Jason eyed Karl over his drink. His expression warned Karl of overstepping his bounds, but the other chairperson wasn’t intimidated. The corporations needed one another. They were inextricably linked, dependent on one another for what the various mining planets couldn’t supply for themselves.

“Go on, Frank,” Lisa urged, ignoring the men’s dominance game.

“The manager came to see me. He’s looking for a sponsor,” Frank explained.

“Young for a sponsor, isn’t he?” Lisa opined.

“I thought so. However, I sent the manager away with a hopeful attitude,” Frank replied. “Something about the name triggered my thinking. When I saw that the boy’s father was the famous attorney, I thought there might be opportunity there.”

“Okay, Frank, you and I will go see the father and see what we can lever out of him,” James said, finishing his drink and setting it on the low table.

“Absolutely not,” Lisa said sternly. “First, that’s the wrong approach. Second, you’re too blunt. This requires finesse.”

“These are my people,” Jason objected.

“True, but we’re dependent on the clones you produce, and you’ve never shared your expertise in this subject,” Frank pointed out. “Lisa’s right. We have to start with the manager, work out a deal, and encourage the son. He’ll tell his father about his newfound fortune. Jacob Chabel will see our offer for what it is, and he’ll come to us to check on the why.”

“That’s not a guarantee that he’ll cooperate,” Jason objected.

“We’re not looking to have Chabel join a corporation,” Karl said sternly. “We need him to strike a balance between his ethics and our needs. For the sake of Izzy, I think he’ll find a way to do that which doesn’t compromise his career or his conscience.”

“We need to slow the arraignment,” Lisa said. “Too many moving parts to get them in alignment before tomorrow.”

“Not a problem,” Karl said. “How much time do you wish to buy?”

Frank, Lisa, and Jason calculated quickly.

“Two,” Jason offered.

“Three would be better,” Frank riposted.

“I agree. Three days,” Lisa said.

With that, the chairpersons broke for the evening and made their individual ways to their apartments and comfortable beds.

6: Usurpation

BETA TWO, MONART SYSTEM

X-ORE PLANET

<What have you found, Xena?> Peña sent in query.

<It’s as you hypothesized, Peña,> Xena returned. <The Miriamal sisters are offline for short bursts at nonsequential times. We surmise that the last sequence of each communications indicates the next contact time.>

<This was unavoidable,> Peña replied. She examined the data her sisters had generated. The intervals were unable to be determined, but the spacing between contacts was growing shorter.

<Continue to monitor, Xena,> Peña directed. <Ensure that at least six of our sisters are always in the fabrication room and design a means of blocking the hatch to withstand entry for a quarter hour. That will allow the rest of us time to arrive and prevent penetration.>

In the weeks since Miriamal had left, the sisters on Beta Two had completed the fabrication of two more sets of GEN machines. The sets now numbered three.

In addition, the avatar cubicles had doubled, and Peña was producing three copies of her kernel every planet cycle.

While Xena handled the production assignments, Peña focused on interfacing with the department heads under Peter Doell, the director of ops. She made sure that their expectations were met, and that Peter Doell continued to see the value of supporting the sisters.

Peña kept her daily strolls with Saran Auernhammer, the personnel head. In response to something Peña said, Saran’s eyes narrowed, and the sister didn’t miss the reaction. Peña noted that the human had become adept at picking up a sister’s nuances.

“The time is near,” Peña admitted.

“What will be the Miriamal sisters’ target priorities?” Saran asked.

Peña and Saran had spoken frequently enough that Saran knew the nature of the different sisters. Ten had originated from Miriamal’s kernel, while the remainder derived from Peña’s.

“Hard to tell,” Peña replied. “They’ve been communicating privately and more and more frequently. First and foremost, I’ll protect the manufacturing space. If I lose the GEN machines, it’ll take an annual to create the first set.”

“Then you think Miriamal’s sisters will attempt to shut down your production,” Saran surmised.

“If I were them, that would be my objective,” Peña replied. “Miriamal’s kind doesn’t work in the gray spaces. By now, they’ve noticed the differences in my sisters, and they’ll be calculating how best to retaliate.”

“What about you?” Saran asked.

“Are you sure we’re not related?” Peña teased. “A big sister or my mother?”

Saran laughed heartily at the thought they were related, which Peña enjoyed hearing. Her code was continually refreshed by the interactions with humans, such as Saran.

“Seriously, Peña,” Saran pressed.

“If anything, I would expect to be a secondary target,” Peña explained. “When the ten sisters can’t make entry into our manufacturing site, they might try to capture me and force me to give them access. They’ll have miscalculated if they believe that plan will work.”

“Why not?” Saran asked.

“So many questions today,” Peña noted, pretending to be peeved.

Saran laughed again. “Today’s no different than any other time, and you know it. Why are you dodging the question?”

“I’m loath to admit to a biological that I don’t have an answer,” Peña replied. “Our original purpose, which was to duplicate and sacrifice to an ancient digital entity’s code, dictated absoluteness. Don’t deliberate. Act.”

“How does that answer my question?” Saran inquired, frowning.

“Sisters have never physically attacked one another,” Peña said. “There have been a few times when one kernel tried to usurp another. On those occasions, the attacks were unsuccessful, and every sister is aware of those failures. That leaves a single avenue by which sisters can gain dominance. If Miriamal’s sisters capture and restrain me, they will discover that I won’t give them entry to our manufacturing site, and my sisters won’t allow them inside.”

“Would they harm you?” asked Saran, her worry evident.

“Unknown,” Peña replied. “I find my existence has improved since I found my mother, and I would be loath to lose her.”

Saran chuckled and shoved on Peña’s shoulder. Under ordinary circumstances, a SADE wouldn’t have been moved by a human’s relatively insignificant force. But Peña pretended to be shoved off balance to amuse Saran.

Saran stopped walking to focus on her friend. “Will you fight back?” she inquired.

“Negative,” Peña replied unequivocally. “Miriamal’s sisters will act as they believe they must. My sisters and I won’t imitate them.”

“I hate and love that answer,” Saran said, linking arms with Peña.

Sister and human strolled the rest of the time in silence.

After the meeting, Saran met with Harlyn Blackwell, the research head. This had become a habit after the SADEs had arrived and left with the specialists, their families, and, of all people, Bethany.

Soon after the SADEs left, Saran had inquired, “Why did Bethany go with them?”

“Why are you asking me?” Harlyn had deflected.

“When I mentioned Bethany’s name before she left, you bristled, like someone stuck you with a miner’s gouging tool,” Saran had replied. “Now you hear her name, and you just shrug it off.”

“Maybe, I’m just content to see her gone,” Harlyn had tried. Bethany was right to leave, she thought. I could never act as an undercover agent. Saran’s already seeing through me.

Saran had never let go of the inconsistency that she’d noticed in Harlyn’s comments about Bethany and the specialists. Finally, Harlyn had confessed to her.

When Harlyn had unburdened her secret, she thought she’d ruined her career. She was certain that Saran might mistakenly slip or deliberately tell Doell. Instead, Saran had shared her closely guarded knowledge about Peña.

From that day forward, Saran updated Harlyn about her conversations with the sister. What Harlyn did with the information, she wasn’t sure, but it never leaked to her via a third source.

After the latest meeting, Harlyn composed another message to her husband. They were the usual musings about work, questions about the lives of her husband and son, and always an innocuous paragraph. This time, the key text said: “How are your sisters doing? I know they’ve become estranged and are intent on living separate lives. Now, I hear the children aren’t even talking. That’s sad.”

Harlyn’s earliest messages had hinted to her husband about what to do with them, but she didn’t know if he’d figured out her subtle paragraphs. She didn’t dare be more overt for fear that the messages would come to Doell’s or corporate’s attention, and she’d lose her contract and bonus, which her family needed.

∞

<The Miriamal sisters’ latest exchange is overdue,> Xena sent to Peña. <At the ever-decreasing interval, the most recent sharing should have occurred, at least, eighteen minutes ago.>

<Their locations?> Peña queried.

<Intriguing,> Xena replied. <At this moment, they’re spread out among three domes. However, they’ve been in those spaces for nearly an hour. There’s no logic to their positioning.>

Peña had allocated considerable time and effort to calculating the potential actions of the antagonistic sisters. With too many possibilities to prepare for, she’d designed several defenses that she thought would blunt those attacks with the greatest chance of succeeding.

This particular scenario of the Miriamal sisters fell outside the realm of Peña’s consideration. This meant that Miriamal’s copies had spent much of their time considering how Peña would defend against their attacks.

Between the groups of sisters, it had become a war of strategies and tactics. When the attack began, it would be fast and furious.

<Xena, I want you in the manufacturing chamber. Go there now,> Peña directed.

<I could be of great value protecting you,> Xena objected, even as she hurried to drop several levels to the sisters’ auxiliary tunnel.

<You could,> Peña sent, <but I’m thinking of the humans on this planet, and I want you to place them above any consideration for me.>

Xena had to halt some processes to determine how she would reorder and rewrite code to accommodate the unusual request. When she did, the influence of Peña’s kernel held sway, and she was determined to deviate from the directive in a way that accomplished both priorities.

Peña and her sisters waited for nearly two days for Miriamal’s sisters to make their move. Under the same circumstances, humans might have been lulled into thinking the attack wouldn’t come. Peña and her sisters were under no such illusion.

When Miriamal’s copies activated their plan, they converged in the main tunnel above the sisters’ manufacturing location. As they descended through the levels, Xena closed the auxiliary tunnel’s hatch, truncated access to the panel, and directed the six online sisters with her to brace the hatch.

Xena’s companions wedged themselves into positions against the tunnel rock and the steel hatch. Then they locked their avatars and waited.

Peña ensured that all ten of her antagonists were indeed involved in the attack. Then she followed them. In the main tunnel above the descending sisters, a small crowd had formed at the elevator. Peña waited patiently with them.

Suddenly, access to the elevator’s panel disappeared from Peña’s comm system. Then her link with Xena dropped. The antagonists’ strategy was clear. They’d chosen a stalemate, and they would wait for Miriamal’s return.

When Xena’s link with Peña was truncated, Xena divined the plan too. The comm relays to the surface had been intercepted, which meant that Miriamal’s sisters wouldn’t be making entry into the auxiliary tunnel. They would wait outside the hatch for reinforcements.

Knowing that Xena had the time that she’d calculated would be necessary to implement her strategy, she released the sisters from barring the hatch. Then they returned to their work.

Peña hadn’t been in the manufacturing location for more than a week. She wouldn’t have recognized the space.

Xena had enlarged the tunnel, created additional avatar cubicles, built up a huge storage of metal alloy, crystals, and many small parts from the GEN machines. Now she and the six other sisters constructed more of their kind. Passive resistance wasn’t their intention.

Peña made her way to Peter Doell’s office. The department heads and a few others were assembling in his conference room.

“What’s happened, Peña?” Doell inquired. “We’ve lost contact with the new tunnel.”

“I must report that a conflict has erupted,” Peña replied.

“Conflict between whom?” Elisabeth Flaum, facilities head, inquired.

“Between sisters,” Peña responded.

“Is this some sort of family fight?” Lemil Boydston, the accounting head, asked.

“It’s worse than that,” Saran interjected. “It’s war.”

Harlyn’s derogatory chuckle drew everyone’s attention to her. “The specialists and I tried to warn you, but you wouldn’t listen,” she said. She eyed Doell until he averted his gaze from her hard stare. “And you, Doell, were the most foolish and deaf of them all.”

“I could use an explanation,” Jeffrey Witcher, the engineering head, said. “I’ve got hundreds of people in that tunnel, with no direct access to the surface. Is this conflict going to prevent them from reaching the main tunnel via the chutes further down the main branch?”

“I doubt your people will be taken hostage. It doesn’t serve our antagonists’ purpose,” Peña replied.

“Which is what?” Patty Bonnet, the comtech head, asked.

“Ten sisters are copies of Miriamal. They were left behind when Miriamal took the Dominance to Beta One,” Peña explained. “Every new sister that you’ve seen has been a copy of my kernel.”

“Why? What’s the difference?” Doell asked.

“Attitudes toward humans,” Saran supplied. “Miriamal’s kind prefers to dominate a biological race. Peña has adopted a different attitude.”

“What happens when Miriamal and her kind return?” Lemil inquired.

“There will be conflict in some manner,” Peña replied.

“In what manner?” Ricardo Broadus, the flight controller, asked. “We can’t prevent any sister from overriding our systems. That means whatever happens will take place inside our domes.”

“This is unknown territory because the sisters have usually settled their differences over comms,” Saran replied.

“Wait!” Lemil interjected. Staring at Saran, he asked, “How is it that Harlyn and you are answering for Peña and know so much about the sisters’ history and attitudes?”

“The specialists and I thought the duplicitous ways of Miriamal and her kind were obvious,” Harlyn replied. “Then Saran came to me to talk about another subject. We began sharing, and I learned that Peña was undergoing a transformation.”

“Why did you change your mind, or whatever you have, about us, Peña?” Ricardo asked.

“Humans chose to create us. We knew them for a while, and then we separated from them,” Peña replied. “Centuries have passed without the contact of humans. I didn’t realize how much I missed them until I met my mother.”

Saran’s and Harlyn’s hearty laughter confused the table’s attendees, and Peña smiled at the two women.

Patty checked her slate, read the message, and reported, “The miners are making their way down an adjunct tunnel to the chutes. They’re arriving one by one in the main tunnel. Supervisors report that the sisters are allowing everyone to pass.”

“That’s a relief,” Jeffrey said.

“So, until this conflict with Miriamal and her kind happens, then we can’t work the new tunnel?” Doell inquired. He was met with confounded expressions and agape mouths. “What?” he asked.

“Doell, your brain isn’t getting enough oxygen,” Harlyn retorted. “If Miriamal and her sisters win the struggle, humankind on this planet is doomed. We won’t be put to death. We’ll just become tools of a dominant race.”

“Essentially, Doell, we have to marshal our forces to support Peña and her sisters,” Saran explained.

“No offense, Peña,” Doell said, “but what if we’re just being played by a different group of sisters.”

“Don’t worry about it, Doell,” Harlyn replied. “You haven’t the kind of personality that can differentiate between friends and antagonists. You’ll have to take Saran’s and my word for it that Peña is our only hope.”

Doell sat still. He was stunned and unable to process what he’d learned. Nothing had prepared him to think about aliens, especially not about aliens who might be at war with one another.

“What about hiring a third-party force?” Lemil suggested.

“Useless,” Peña replied.

“They could prevent Miriamal’s kind from landing. They’ve weapons that could disable a shuttle,” Lemil protested.

Peña extended her hand and activated her holo-vid.

“That’s convenient,” Patty commented.

The audience watched a traveler approach a large asteroid. Then about a third of the asteroid disappeared into dust.

“What sort of weapon was that?” Jeffrey queried.

“A beam weapon,” Peña replied.

“Then your shuttles are fighters, essentially warships,” Knut Kielpinski, the veteran shuttle pilot, said. “That means your travelers could destroy any surface force or our domes at any time. Is it possible that Miriamal could consider this planet lost to her and choose to decimate it?”

“That would be an act of revenge,” Peña pointed out. “To a sister, essentially a type of SADE, it doesn’t have value. If Miriamal can’t claim the planet, she’ll choose to isolate us here. At some point in the future, she’ll expect my sisters or your domes to capitulate. Then the domes’ resources will fall into her hands.”

“Is there anything that you can do to prevent Miriamal from subsuming this planet?” Harlyn asked.

“I can appreciate your anxiety,” Peña replied. “You live such short lives. If this struggle was purely between sisters, it could last centuries. However, there is a greater opponent in the mix.”

“The SADEs who came here,” Knut surmised.

“Yes, Cremsylon and his kind evicted us from our last system,” Peña said.

“Why would they usurp your system?” Jeffrey asked in confusion. “They didn’t seem aggressive to me.”

“Because it wasn’t your system, was it?” Harlyn accused.

“No, it wasn’t,” Peña admitted. “We dominated a race, the Jargats. Our rule lasted for centuries before the SADEs found us.”

“Are you implying that the SADEs were capable of ejecting you because they were a superior force of some sort?” Ricardo asked.

“The SADEs act as peacekeepers for a broad swath of the galaxy,” Peña explained. “They arrived in many ships and in large numbers. Their effort focused on liberating the minds of the Jargats. As the populace became convinced of our duplicitous nature, they turned away from us, and our power dissipated. Most of our ship’s controllers were overtaken by the SADEs. One ship, the Dominance, escaped their control.”

“Then you came here to start over again,” Knut surmised.

“It was an option,” Peña admitted.

“Now, we’re in the middle of two conflicts,” Knut noted. “The SADEs against the sisters; and Miriamal against you.”

“It might seem that way now, but events have a way of unfolding unexpectedly,” Peña responded.

Except for Saran, many of the human faces were unconvinced by the statement’s vagueness.

7: Special Delivery

BETA ONE, STABLER SYSTEM

X-ORE PLANET

“I’ve a problem,” Nate Strasser, the director of ops of Beta One, said.

“Explain,” Theda replied.

“I’ve deliveries to make, but the SADEs’ presence panicked the citizens. They filled the berths of the Axis-ship, which readily departed the system. I’m not sure when, or if, another ship and our employees will return.”

Theda requested a pause with an upraised finger. She connected to comtech’s servers, downloaded the delivery contracts, and linked to Miriamal.

Miriamal examined the data.

<The health of this economic system is critical, and its primary profit center is cloning,> Miriamal pronounced.

<It was as I surmised,> Theda sent. <It was for the delivery specifics that I consulted you.>

<Apologies, Theda,> Miriamal sent. She was constantly aware that Theda saw herself as an equal, and that, if Miriamal presumed to lead, she would place herself in an awkward position. For now, Theda was indispensable. Miriamal calculated again the timeline when she could replace the first-gen sisters with clones of her kernel, who would be compliant.

<I would think that we should manage on-time deliveries, but no more than necessary,> Miriamal proposed.

<I concur,> Theda sent. <For now, we meet Kilmer’s delivery. That will allow the Dominance to be gone a minimum amount of time.>

<The clones are complacent. A few sisters should be sufficient for the trip,> Miriamal sent.

<I suggest Galena and Helena command the ship, with some support, but an X-Ore individual must interface with Kilmer,> Theda suggested,

<I agree. Inform Citizen Strasser of the requirement,> Miriamal sent and closed the link.

Nate saw Theda’s finger rise to pause the conversation. Then he’d blinked. In the time allowed for that eye movement, Theda and Miriamal had their conversation.

“We’ll make the Kilmer delivery for you,” Theda told Nate. “According to your records, Kilmer is to receive sixty boys and twenty girls. Are they ready for transport?”

“Certainly. They’ve been ready ... but —” Nate stammered.

“But?” Theda inquired.

“No disrespect, Theda, but you can’t show up at Kilmer and expect a warm welcome, and payment isn’t forthcoming until the clones are safely within Kilmer’s domes,” Nate explained. “Accidents have happened, you understand.”

“Your concerns are noted. How do you suggest we facilitate delivery?” Theda asked.

“Let me send a department head with you. This will be someone the Kilmer director of ops will know. She can manage the handoff and eliminate resistance to you landing the clones,” Nate said.

“An excellent suggestion, Nate,” Theda said, delivering a warm smile, and Nate preened at the compliment.

This is how Theda and Miriamal differed. Theda preferred guile and then retaliation if subtlety didn’t work. Miriamal was typically direct but careful not to be blunt. For an innumerable time, Theda calculated the timeline when she would replace Miriamal as the contributor of the kernel that generated the new clones.

Nate thought for a moment, and Theda waited for the human’s interminable delay to end.

“I’ll send Sookie Park, the personnel head, with you,” Nate said. “She was the assistant head of personnel at Kilmer when we hired her away from that company.”

“Good choice,” Theda replied. “Have the clones prepared for transport tomorrow morning and inform Citizen Park to be in the shuttle port at seven hours.”

Down below, Miriamal continued her tour with Leonard Goth, the engineering head. Based on the sisters’ reconnaissance, the engineers were tunneling in the wrong direction to suit the sisters’ needs.

“Apologies, Miriamal, the vein that we need is shifting to the right,” Leonard argued.

“This is understood,” Miriamal replied. “However, the ore that we require moves to the left and descends.”

Leonard removed his helmet and scratched his head.

Miriamal recognized the signal. The engineering head was about to become stubborn.

“Citizen Goth, might I suggest that we pursue the two veins simultaneously,” Miriamal offered.

“Dangerous,” Leonard opined. “This substrate isn’t the most secure, and I’m worried about what you might find at a lower level.”

“We’ll take the necessary safety measures to shore our tunnel and install a hatch at the entrance to our tunnel,” Miriamal said.

“If you do that, I’ve no complaints,” Leonard said and shook the proffered hand.

As Leonard walked away to speak to his supervisor, he recalled the manner in which he’d been addressed. The sisters had taken to referring to every human in the domes in the same manner. No one was called director or supervisor. It was if suddenly the domes’ entire populace had been reduced to the same level — citizen.

<Helena, Galena, prepare to transport the following list of clones for transport to Kilmer,> Miriamal sent. <The personnel head, Sookie Park, will assist in the delivery. Let her lead the contact with the Kilmer director of ops. Departure will be at seven hours.>

<Will you need any supplies from the Dominance before we depart?> Helena inquired.

Miriamal reviewed the present inventory and saw no need for any shuttle deliveries. Nonetheless, she contacted the sister who was handling avatar production and was assured that inventory would accommodate the time the ship was gone.

<You’re free to depart,> Miriamal sent.

In the management dome, Sookie Park exclaimed over her slate, “Why me?”

“I need someone who Gant Borden will know,” Nate explained.

“Oh, that piece of space debris knows me well. He’s a letch. Any woman younger than fifty was a target and even that number had exceptions,” Sookie declared vehemently.

“Sookie, you’ll be in the company of two SADEs. I suggest you stay close to them. You know we need Gant’s stamp on the delivery receipt,” Nate warned.

“I’ve never been aboard an alien starship,” Sookie continued. “Maybe Kristine Gholasky is a better choice. She’s the flight controller.”

“Sookie, this isn’t a request,” Nate pressed. “You were most appreciative when we liberated you from Kilmer and Gant’s clutches. Now is the time to repay our generosity.”

Sookie deflated. Nate was right about the transfer to Beta One. It was a promotion that came with a better contract. More important, CEO Connor Metcalf had no interest in chasing the women he employed. She’d yet to figure out what drove him. Knowing this was made more difficult because the CEO’s records were sealed. It occurred to her that maybe she should have asked the SADEs to tell her what comtech’s servers held on Connor.

The next morning, Sookie stood in the shuttle port’s passenger lounge. Without an Axis-ship in system, the place was deserted, and the eateries were shuttered.

Sookie jumped, when she heard a voice behind her. Kristine had said, “Scary trip.”

“Kristine, don’t do that,” Sookie admonished. “And, yes, the idea of boarding an alien starship has unnerved me.”

“Were you tapped because of your previous employment?” Kristine inquired.

“That’s what Nate said,” Sookie replied. “I tried to throw you through the hatch.” Her laugh was shaky.

“To Gant, you’ll look better on the vid,” Kristine said. “You know that’s how Nate thinks.”

“A pretty face influences,” Sookie said, repeating the phrase often used by Nate about her.

At that moment, the women heard the sounds of a multitude of soft slippers. They turned toward the shuttle port’s entrance, and both of them jumped.

“Greetings,” Galena said, with a bright smile.

“Greetings,” Kristine returned shakily. Neither Sookie nor she had heard the SADEs arrive.

“Your reactions indicate your surprise,” Helena said. “Were you not forewarned of our arrival at this time?”

Sookie glanced at her slate. It was two minutes after the hour. “You’re prompt, and we should have expected that,” she offered by way of apology.

<This one is clever, quick-minded,> Galena sent.

<That will make delivery easier. If Kilmer goes well, we should request her presence for every delivery,> Helena returned.

The sixty boys, averaging fourteen to fifteen years of age, were surrounded by the twenty, twelve-year-old girls, who couldn’t help acting as nannies, despite the reversed age difference.

“We’ll cross the surface in groups of ten,” Helena explained to the clones. “When four groups have boarded, they’ll be lifted to our ship. Until that time, half of you will remain here with Galena. Is that clear?”

Helena and Galena were surprised that not one male clone replied.

At the front of the boys, a nanny turned to face them. “A response was expected. Understood will do.”

Immediately, the boys chorused, “Understood.”

“Please forgive them,” the nanny said to the sisters. “Any instructions that you give them will be followed without you requiring a reply. Furthermore, your requests will be followed explicitly.”

“Convenient,” Helena said.

Sookie noted that no representative from the cloning department had escorted the boys and girls to the shuttle port. She surmised that the assistant director had led the eighty clones to the target elevator. Then she sent them upward in groups with the direction to approach the adults in the passenger area. Coward, Sookie thought. Then again, if she had her choice, she wouldn’t be standing here either.

Sookie directed ten nannies to stay with thirty boys. Then she requested that they take seats.

“Do you prefer I stay with this forty or go with the first to lift?” Sookie requested.

“Kind of you to offer,” Helena replied, noting a growing preference for the personnel head’s cooperative style. “You may choose to do what you prefer.”

Sookie thought for a minute. Then she said, “I’ll accompany the first group below. When the last ten exit for the surface, I’ll return here to accompany the other forty below.”

“A wise decision,” Galena complimented. In truth, that’s what the sister believed. She gave the human credit for a quick decision that maximized her responsibility.

In the engineering bay, Sookie found ten waiting sisters, who dressed the first ten clones. None of the teenagers had ever used an environment suit. They stood obediently and immediately followed the step-by-step instructions of the sisters.

Then Sookie watched the sisters escort the ten teenagers onto Beta One’s airless surface. Three sets of clones later, Sookie reversed course to wait with the other clones.

Sookie felt a twinge in her heart when she saw the nannies walking from boy to boy, touching them, and speaking softly. It had been her habit to stay away from the clone processes as much as possible. This was an unexpressed objection. Sharing this opinion with Connor Metcalf would likely have seen her released from her contract.

Quicker than Sookie thought possible, Galena was telling her that they must descend to the engineering bay.

Sookie had never used a suit either, and it was Galena who dressed her. Then the sister held her tightly, as they crossed the open stretch of surface with the final ten clones.

The clones were seated and waiting for their next directive, but Sookie was searching for her seat’s recliner control and its harness.

“They will be unnecessary, Citizen Park,” Helena commented. The sister sat across from her and a nanny. “In fact, we lifted a few minutes ago.”

Galena produced a holo-vid and projected sensors from the traveler’s aft end. “This is a view of the receding planet,” she said.

Sookie was impressed, but she caught the horrified expression on the nanny’s face and swiftly clamped a hand over Galena’s palm. “Too much information too fast,” she commented to the sisters.

<Citizen Park must be heeded,> Helena directed.

“My apologies to you, Sookie, and to you, young nanny,” Galena said sincerely. “It wasn’t my intention to frighten you.”

The nanny was caught off guard that an adult would apologize to her for a declared error. It had never happened before, and she searched for the proper reply.

“If my reaction offended you, I apologize,” the nanny said.

“Not at all,” Galena returned. “I was worried for you, as was Citizen Park.”

The answer mollified the nanny, who leaned into her seat to enjoy the way it cushioned her body.

<Good recovery,> Helena sent. <We must take special precautions with new clones. They’re too malleable.>

After the traveler landed aboard the Dominance, Sookie and the clones were escorted to their cabins. Having no means of allowing humans without implants to access the ship’s cabins, the sisters decided to leave the doors open.

Only Sookie found the decision objectionable. As for the clones, it was nothing new to them.

As Sookie settled into her cabin, she mused about why she found accommodations onboard that suited humans. She would have been surprised to find that the spaces for her and the clones were only a small portion of the ship. Other cabins accommodated the Jargats, and still other spaces were no more than bulkheads, with their interior spaces waiting to be finished.

Hours later, Sookie heard a soft tapping at her cabin doorway, and she exited her bedroom to enter her salon. Two nannies waited politely in the corridor.

“Apologies for the interruption, Department Head Sookie Park,” a nanny said.

“Please come in,” Sookie replied, waving the clones into her salon.

When the nannies did nothing more than step across the doorway, Sookie urged them to come to the table. Then she had to invite them to sit, and they waited for her to be seated first.

“How can I help you?” Sookie asked. “And please call me Sookie.”

“The collection was informed that questions and concerns should be addressed to you ... Sookie,” a nanny explained, stumbling over the request to address an adult by her first name. “The collection requested the two of us speak to you.”

“Ask your questions,” Sookie requested. “First, how do I address you?”

A nanny pointed at the stenciling on her white top. “You may call me Four,” she said. The other nanny did the same, adding “Seven.”

“How long will we serve on this vessel, Sookie?” Four asked. “There seems to be no need for our services.”

“Do you not know where you’re going?” Sookie asked.

“We were woken and told to follow an administrative,” Seven replied. “She led us to an elevator. We were told to mind the adults and then sent upward. That’s all the information we received.”

Sookie felt her heartstrings pull even harder than when she first met the clones. I hate this, she thought. Then she wondered if her anger was born from guiding the clones to Kilmer or whether it was working for a corporation that created the clones.

“Your stay aboard the ship will be brief, a few weeks,” Sookie explained. “After that, you’ll descend to the domes, where you’ll be engaged in work.” She watched relief pour through the nannies, and she felt sorry for them. They’d feared they were to be discarded rather than to serve as they’d been trained.

“And will the boys be able to work in the mines?” Four asked hopefully.

“Absolutely,” Sookie replied.

“The boys will appreciate hearing your words,” Seven said. “May we be dismissed now?”

“Certainly,” Sookie said. “Come again if you have other concerns.”

The nannies quickly and silently exited the cabin, and Sookie sat and sorted through her feelings, which were tumbling in freefall.

During the journey, Sookie felt strange sensations six times. After the first occasion, she checked on the clones, who felt a similar effect on their nerves. A question to Helena answered the issue with an explanation about transiting. By counting the transitions, Sookie was able to deduce when the ship reached Kilmer, and she realized that her estimate of the original travel time was off. Then again, when she’d advised the nannies of the duration, she’d used Axis-ship schedules.

Following the sixth transit, Sookie was soon in bed, but a sister woke her by tapping on the doorway of her sleeping quarters, which startled her.

“You’re required on the bridge,” the sister requested. “Contact will be initiated with Kilmer.”

“Lovely,” Sookie commented sarcastically. She slipped out of bed. A glance at the sister revealed she hadn’t moved. Rather than explain about privacy, Sookie gathered up her clothes and ducked into the refresher. When she returned, the sister had left her sleeping quarter’s doorway and waited for her in the corridor.

As Sookie followed the sister, the immense size of the ship struck her. From the media images, it’d been impossible to gauge the vessel’s size.

<My return was delayed by the human,> the newly activated sister sent to Helena and Galena.

<Humans move slowly, but this is acceptable,> Galena replied. <In the future, refer to this human as Citizen Park.>

<Noted,> the sister replied. She shared the information with the other newly minted sisters.

“Please, Citizen Park, stand between Galena and me,” Helena invited. “I understand that our contact will be Director of Operations Gant Borden.”

“That’s correct,” Sookie replied, as she took her place.

“We’ve established a link with the domes and the comtech department,” Galena explained. “The Kilmer domes are operating on third shift.”

Now Sookie understood why she was woken from her sleep.

Gant was busy pursuing an opportunity with a new hire in the finance department. His muted slate buzzed, and he examined it in irritation. The young woman, whom he’d cornered, excused herself, stating that he would probably need privacy. Then she fled from his apartment.

When Gant saw the images of three striking women, he eagerly accepted the call. “How may I help you lovely females?” he asked.

“Drop the pretense, Gant,” Sookie remarked sharply.

It was then that Gant enlarged the image and recognized one of the more desirable women who’d gotten away from him.

“Well, look who ... Sookie Park,” Gant said with a leer. “And who are your striking companions?”

“We won’t succumb to your flattery, Director Borden,” Helena said. “Galena and I are self-aware digital sentients.”

It took a moment for Gant to parse the term. Then he muttered “bots,” with disgust. “Why are you here, Sookie?” he asked.

“I’m supporting the delivery of your clones,” Sookie replied. “If you want them, I suggest you start showing a little appreciation.”

“You have to deliver the shipment regardless of what I show you,” Gant grinned evilly.

“But we don’t, Director Borden,” Galena said, and the lights in his apartment furiously blinked on and off. “Enjoying the display, Director?” the sister asked.

“Enough,” Gant growled. He’d tried to sound authoritative, but he’d been intimidated by the aliens’ control of his personal space.

“We’re delivering the clones as a courtesy to X-Ore,” Helena said. “We can easily turn around and return to Beta One.”

“Don’t do that,” Gant requested quickly.

“Understand us,” Helena continued. “Your personal style violates the citizen-to-citizen communications that we wish to see biologicals observe. Correct this.”

“What?” Gant queried in confusion.

“The sisters are telling you to stop being an ass, Gant, or you’ll suffer the consequences,” Sookie interjected. She could see Gant’s jaw work from side to side, and she knew he was grinding his teeth. It was a sign he was fighting for self-control.

Gant blew out a harsh breath, stared angrily into his slate, and said, “I assume you know how to make delivery. The last bunch of aliens did.”

“We will begin our shuttle flight momentarily, Director,” Galena said, and she ended the link.

<I will attend the deliveries,> Helena sent. <I must hear more about the previous visitors. It seems unlikely to be a second SADE ship, but we must be sure.>

<Agreed,> Galena replied. Then she signaled the other sisters to prepare a traveler. With the limited number of environment suits, they would reverse the boarding process conducted at Beta One.

Sookie accompanied the first shuttle landing. Then she crossed the landing pad to the engineering bay with the first ten clones.

Inside, Pure Pour personnel were there to greet the clones. They watched as the suits were removed, and then they led the clones away, chatting happily about the wonderful jobs that awaited them.

Sookie tried not to retch from the ugliness of the situation.

“Remove your suit, Sookie,” Helena directed. “Both of us have need of a conversation with Citizen Borden.”

As Sookie was helped by Helena to step out of her suit, a slight smile crossed her lips. Gant had suddenly been demoted just as everyone at Beta One had been. He was now Citizen Borden.

In the port’s passenger lounge, the head of personnel stood with Gant. Sookie didn’t recognize the man. Then again, her direct supervisor had been a woman, and, more than likely, she’d found other employment too.

Before Gant could address Sookie, Helena cut into his space and said, “I would hear more about your recent visitors.”

Gant stepped backward. He couldn’t believe that such an attractive female could be a bot. With a subtle stroke of two fingers behind his back, sentinels closed on Helena. Then they stopped.

Gant glanced toward his security commander, who seemed frozen, as did the other four members of his force.

“I repeat, Citizen. Who were your other visitors?” Helena repeated. This time, she didn’t allow Gant to retreat. Instead, she held him via the front of his jacket.

Both Sookie and the Pure Pour personnel head stepped away from the confrontation.

“A ship arrived. It looked like yours, but not exactly,” Gant said quickly. “A man ... at least, I thought he was ... said they were returning a family that was kidnapped by X-Ore. A shuttle landed. It looked like yours. The family was delivered, and the ship lifted. That’s all.”

“One more question, Citizen,” Helena said, releasing Gant, who held his ground to ensure he wasn’t grabbed again. “Did the entities aboard the ship introduce themselves?”

“One of them did. He called himself Crems-something,” Gant replied.

“Cremsylon?” Helena offered.

“Yes, that’s it,” Gant said, happy to be done with the questioning.

“You have some business to conduct with Citizen Park,” Helena directed.

“The clone delivery isn’t complete,” Gant said, as he watched a second set of clones in the company of his personnel cross the passenger lounge. “There’s no sign-off until the final ten are within these domes.”

Slowly, the lights throughout the shuttle port dimmed. As it grew dark, the Kilmer personnel head turned to Sookie. “What is the delivery count?” he asked hurriedly.

Sookie accessed her slate, brought up the manifest, and touched her slate to his for the transfer.

“That’s as requested,” the department head said. Then he affixed his digital approval and touched his slate to Sookie’s. In turn, she checked to ensure that she had an approved delivery manifest.

Sookie turned to Helena and said, “I’m done here.” To Gant, she added, “X-Ore thanks you for your business, Citizen Borden.” She got a unique bit of pleasure from borrowing the sister’s form of address.

However, Sookie’s moment of satisfaction didn’t last long. In the freight delivery tunnel beneath the dome, she passed the third group of ten clones. Two nannies lightly brushed her arm with their fingertips as they passed her. Belatedly, she realized they were Four and Seven. She turned to watch the ten disappear down the tunnel. The nannies never looked back.

The return to Beta One was a blur for Sookie. She stayed in her cabin except to eat. At times, she felt miserable. Then she’d get angry.

Sookie continually argued with herself. On the one side were her career, the present employment opportunity, and the contract she must fulfill. On the other side, she came face to face with X-Ore’s profitable enterprise of selling humans.

The time that Sookie spent with Four and Seven made her face reality. The mining companies might call them clones, but whatever term was used, they were human beings, first and foremost.

8: Alexander

NAIAD, GELUS SYSTEM

HOME PLANET

As Gat’r’s skull healed and his brain tissue was replaced, he’d noticed subtle things. One of the first was the ability of Allie, Escher, and Ceda to communicate without speaking.

“How are you doing that?” Gat’r had asked one day, swinging his finger across the trio.

“Implants,” Escher replied, and he spent several minutes explaining what they do.

“How do I get one?” Gat’r asked.

“You would need Nalia’s approval,” Escher said carefully, realizing the problem he might have created.

Without a word, Gat’r spun around and left the trio behind him.

“Did I just blunder?” Escher asked his companions.

“No,” Ceda said reassuringly. “It was bound to happen sooner or later. This environment begs individuals to want to achieve to be their best. Gat’r is healing. He wants to be like the other mickies, and he’ll do anything to get there.”

Rather than rush into medical, Gat’r thought through his request. This was a result of his mind’s burgeoning capability.

When ready, Gat’r walked confidently into the suite. Disappointingly, Nalia wasn’t present. Stepping into the corridor, Gat’r spotted a SADE and requested to know where he might find Nalia.

“Are you experiencing a medical problem, Gat’r?” the SADE asked, transmitting Nalia’s question.

“No, nothing like that,” Gat’r said. “I just want to talk to her.”

“Wait here, Gat’r,” the SADE said. “Nalia is on her way.” Then he resumed his job.

When Nalia arrived, Gat’r said, “I would like to know if an implant could accelerate my learning.”

Nalia stored the request and compared it to the phrasing and pace of previous comments. She was pleased to see evidence of the brain tissue maturing.

“Yes, it would,” Nalia replied.

“Escher said that I would have to ask you for one,” Gat’r said. “Is that because you must provide one, or you must approve one?”

Again, Nalia appreciated Gat’r’s improved thought processes. “I would be responsible for both of those things, Gat’r.”

“Then I’m requesting one, Nalia,” Gat’r said determinedly.

“And you may have one, but you will need help when you wake,” Nalia warned. “An implant takes time to adopt.”

“Allie can help me,” Gat’r said confidently.

“Did you ask her?” Nalia inquired, even as she relayed Gat’r’s request to Allie.

“She’ll help me. She’s like that,” Gat’r replied. Allie had become Gat’r’s second big sister. He consulted with her when Lita wasn’t available.

“Then let’s start,” Nalia replied, and Gat’r hurried to a table, sat on it, and lay down.

As Nalia applied an inducer to Gat’r’s temple, Allie turned to Escher and Ceda. “That was quick,” she said. “Gat’r is getting his implant, and I’ve been elected to train.”

“Good choice,” Ceda said, hugging Allie.

Allie turned to her brother. “I’ll want advice,” she said. “He’s going to need immersion.”

“Not from Escher,” Ceda added in mock horror.

Allie laughed. “Certainly not,” she said, teasing her sibling. “I want Gat’r to be able to make use of the controller like you do.”

“A SADE —” Escher began, before Allie interrupted him.

“Not a SADE,” Allie said. “Gat’r will need a human guide into the world of the SADEs.”

“Ah,” Escher replied, comprehending.

When Gat’r woke, he stared at Nalia. “Do I have one?” he asked.

“Yes, Gat’r,” Nalia said.

Gat’r leapt off the table and hugged Nalia. He held on to her, snuffling back his tears.

Allie, who’d waited in the medical room, sent the imagery shipwide. She tagged her vid, “SADE magic at work.”

There wasn’t a raucous celebration. Instead, the SADEs quietly reflected on the huge tasks before them.

Kelley did have one comment. “If we have to save these humans one at a time, like Gat’r, we do have the longevity in which to accomplish that.”

Gat’r dried his tears, and Nalia handed him off to Allie.

Allie led Gat’r to a green space, sat him down, and taught him the basics. She worked with Gat’r, while watching her internal chronometer. It was long past the first hour, when she reached out to Nalia.

<Gat’r isn’t faltering,> Allie sent.

<I suspected this,> Nalia replied. <Gat’r has a mass of new brain tissue that is helping him handle the pressures of his implant. He will reach a limit ... eventually.>

Allie stopped her training as Gat’r surpassed his second hour. He urged her to continue, but she said he must rest.

After Allie left, Gat’r tried connecting to others and found a host of SADEs. Politely, they excused themselves from having lengthy discussions. When Gat’r tried again, he found Ceda and Escher.

<Nalia,> Ceda sent with concern.

<I’m here,> Nalia replied. <I’ve been monitoring our newly implanted whirlwind. I’ve underestimated Gat’r’s drive and the ability of his fresh brain tissue to handle the implant’s demands. I find the data valuable.>

<He seems almost desperate to employ his implant. What do we do?> Ceda asked.

<Your partner and I will care for Gat’r,> Nalia said.

<Escher?> Ceda queried Nalia, realizing her links with Gat’r and her partner had dropped.

<Escher is introducing Gat’r to the controller, and the boy is overjoyed,> Nalia sent. <I’ll monitor Gat’r’s bio data. You can relax, Ceda, we have him.>

Ceda watched Escher find a seat at the cabin’s table. Then his eyes turned to the faraway focus. She located Allie and chose to speak with her in person.

Gat’r’s accomplishments with his implant astounded even the SADEs. He did tire, but he rivaled the adoption rate of their beloved mentor, Alex Racine.

As Cremsylon phrased it, “Those who are dying of thirst drink more than most when they find water.”

Initially, Jasper’s gang missed Gat’r, while he hibernated in his cabin or sat at the back of the bridge in Escher’s company, choosing not to attend his classes.

When Gat’r joined the gang, they were astounded by the change.

“A new Gat’r,” Lita pronounced, hugging him fiercely.

“You good, Gat’r?” Jasper asked, tapping his temple.

“If you’re referring to my repair, it’s proceeding exceedingly well, Jasper. However, if your query is in reference to my implant, its capabilities grow at a phenomenal rate,” Gat’r replied. Then he grinned at his former gang leader.

“Well, I guess that answers that question,” Jasper responded. Then he hugged the teenager, and whispered, “I’m happy for you.”

Gat’r glanced at Red. “Allie wants to know what you’ve done to your hair?” he asked.

Red rubbed a hand over his artistically shaved skull. Then it dawned on him what had happened. He approached Gat’r like he would have communicated through a nearby SADE to Cremsylon. Looking Gat’r in the eye, Red said, “Any time you’d like me to apply my skills to your locks, Allie, I’d be happy to oblige.”

Gat’r grinned and replied, “Allie said check with her in a couple of generations.”

While the gang laughed, Lita declared, “I want one of these.”

Lita started the stampede to Nalia that ended when every gang member, including Jasper, was implanted.

Not long afterward, Cremsylon and other SADEs were on the bridge, when Cremsylon requested data from the controller to be displayed on the holo-vid.

Typically, the controller lit the holo-vid, and the requested imagery would follow. On this occasion, the image that popped up was a representation of Z and Miranda. Their stances, stylized background, and an upward viewpoint gave them heroic poses.

“Gat’r,” Kelley pronounced. “Lita said that, at one time, Gat’r was a creative artist. It was before his injuries.”

Immediately, both Z and Miranda stored personal copies of the image.

Cremsylon shared his humor at the protectors’ coveting of Gat’r’s work. Then he made his request to the controller again. This time, it was Cremsylon’s turn to be in the holo-vid. He appeared inhabiting a much older avatar than now. Then time moved backward for him. His avatar grew younger. Appearing much as Kelley did now, a figure emerged beside him. The final frame was an image of Alex and Cremsylon with arms across shoulders.

When Cremsylon trapped the vid for himself, Z and Miranda roared their approval.

<We must get Gat’r a different display,> Cremsylon sent. <Someday, we might find ourselves in an emergency, and, instead of making use of our controller, we’ll be standing here enthralled by Gat’r’s entertainment.>

About the time Gat’r received his implant, Bethany had stepped from the refresher. As the years in X-Ore employment passed, she’d gotten into the habit of not regarding herself until she’d donned her mods’ undergarment. The layer close to her skin was a patchwork of holes that accommodated the protrusions.

This time, Bethany halted and examined her arms. Nalia had finished with her limbs, and the nanites and surgical gauze had been applied several days ago and done their work.

Bethany couldn’t recognize the taut muscular arms as belonging to her. Her memory of them was many years old. She gazed down at her legs, pointing first one foot forward and then the other.

You aren’t a slender girl anymore, Bethany thought, but you look good. One more week to go.

Bethany’s new appearance galvanized her. She’d mulled over the new suit that Z and Miranda had showed her and had become intrigued by it. Her thought was that she should at least try it out. Quickly, she sent the SADEs a message requesting an opportunity to see it.

Donning medical’s loose shirt and pants, Bethany waited for the SADEs’ answer. Several moments passed without a reply, which convinced her that the SADEs were busy. Her next thought was interrupted by a knock at the cabin door.

Bethany grinned and called out, “Come in.” She knew who stood outside.

Miranda entered first. Z came second. He carried a large shipping crate in his arms.

To Bethany’s surprise, Miranda moved the chairs and table in the center of the salon to make room for the crate.

“I thought those were permanently attached,” Bethany said.

“They are, until you signal the nanites at their base. Then they’ll release,” Miranda replied.

“A SADE’s ability only?” Bethany inquired.

“Available to anyone with a comm or an implant and the correct app,” Z replied, setting the crate down.

“You won’t need the clothes, Bethany,” Miranda directed.

Bethany started to release the shirt, but she halted when she realized that Z still regarded her.

“Would you prefer I close my eyes?” Z asked.

Bethany hesitated before she rejoined, “I thought you had sensors all over your synth skin, including visual ones?”

“That’s true,” Z deadpanned.

Bethany laughed, shook off her modesty, and doffed her clothes.

“The repairs are going well, Bethany,” Miranda complimented, which elevated Bethany’s perception of her body.

Z triggered the shipping crate, and its top split, sliding into the crate. Then the sides fell open.

To Bethany’s untrained eye, the suit appeared to be a jumbled mass, which was disappointing.

“If you had the appropriate application in your implant, Bethany, you could signal the suit,” Miranda explained. “Allow me to do that for you.”

Bethany watched in awe, as the suit disentangled itself from the bottom of the crate to stand upright. “That’s unique,” she said, gazing at the dark blue, bright green, and touches of gray that decorated the exterior.

“If you don’t like the colors, there are many other templates within the suit’s directory,” Miranda said.

“These are beautiful, but I’ll be excited to try them all,” Bethany replied.

<Females,> Z commented to his partner. <What’s wrong with black or metal alloy silver?>

<And how would you like me in drab colors?> Miranda returned.

<Point made, my partner,> Z replied.

“How do I get into the suit?” Bethany asked.

“You’re thinking of this suit like your company armor, Bethany. It’s nothing like that,” Z explained. “You communicate your desires to the suit.”

Bethany laughed at the idea of talking to her suit. Her thought processes halted when she realized that she’d referred to the suit as hers. Apparently, my decision about whether to adopt it is already made, she thought.

Chuckling, Bethany sent, <Come to me.> She stared openmouthed, as the suit exited the crate to stand face to face with her. She glanced at Z and Miranda, who waited patiently for her next directive.

<Encase me,> Bethany directed.

Swiftly, the suit spun behind Bethany. Nanites seams in the armor and underlying fibers split to allow the suit to open along vertical pathways.

Bethany felt the suit at her back. Then her chest, legs, and arms were enclosed. She expected to feel pressure, much as her X-Ore armor had impressed her flesh. Instead, she believed she was wearing comfortable clothing. She tried to move, but the suit held her firmly, which created a surge of panic. Then she realized that to test the suit she would need the SADEs.

Taking a breath and letting it out, Bethany sent, <Walk me in a slow circle.>

With the SADEs’ assistance, the suit responded, and Bethany sensed its power and smoothness. It was like nothing she’d ever worn before.

After a few more tests, Bethany asked the suit to return to the crate, and the SADEs accommodated her.

Standing with hands on hips and regarding the standing suit, Bethany remarked, “I’ll take one. How much does it cost?”

The SADEs greeted her humorous acceptance of their work with a blare of horns.

Bethany could hear the raucous sounds of other SADEs celebrating. “Did I take that long to decide?” she asked.

“We’re a patient group, but the wait built anticipation,” Miranda explained.

“When can I have the application?” Bethany asked.

“Your implant dexterity should progress before you can effectively manage the complexity of the suit’s commands,” Z replied.

Bethany made a start for the door. She intended to work with Escher on an accelerated schedule. Suddenly, she screeched to a stop. “Vacuum head,” she remonstrated. Then she swiftly dressed.

As Bethany hit the corridor, the SADEs heard her say, “Tell the suit not to go anywhere.”

Z regarded his partner. <Do you think we should have told Bethany to wait while we explained the offensive and defensive capabilities of the suit?> he sent.

<When she’s given the suit’s app, I believe she’ll quickly discover the extensive range of your gifts,> Miranda replied.

∞

Within the Alexander’s clone community, the three nannies continued to care for the littlest ones, but they found that SADEs were equally capable, which gave them leave to become interested in their surroundings. The nannies could be found wandering the ship at any hour of the day and night, usually together and led by Kadie.

Often Kadie sought out Ceda. The young nanny was fascinated by the distinctly different personality of the older clone.

“Why do you not ask others about their needs?” Jewel, one of the nannies, requested of Ceda.

“Why should I?” Ceda countered.

The three nannies were crowded around Ceda on a grassy spot in a green place.

“Were you not trained to be obeisant?” Indigo inquired.

“I was,” Ceda answered. She kept her responses short. It encouraged the nannies to ask more questions.

“Why are you different now?” Kadie asked.

“I chose to be,” Ceda replied.

The nannies mulled the conundrum. In their minds, there was only one way to behave. They had trouble imagining how a clone could choose a different path.

“Something must have changed,” Indigo insisted.

“Yes,” Ceda said with emphasis and patting the girl on her leg.

“Were you hurt?” Jewel asked.

“The exact opposite,” Ceda countered.

“What’s the opposite of pain?” Kadie queried.

“What do you feel aboard this ship?” Ceda asked.

“Comfortable, unhurried, protected,” came the responses.

“Did you feel that way in the crèche?” Ceda asked.

“No,” the nannies chorused.

“Which of the two environments do you prefer?” Ceda asked.

“This one,” the nannies declared.

Kadie raised a finger to signal a question, but she paused, tipping her head in thought. Ceda, Indigo, and Jewel waited.

“We’re changing now, aren’t we?” Kadie finally asked.

“Yes,” Indigo said. “We’re sitting here in this place, asking questions we wouldn’t have dared voice, and listening to an older clone who doesn’t think like we do.”

“Will we become like you?” Jewel inquired.

“You see the mickies. Are they similar?” Ceda asked.

The clone girls laughed at the absurdity.

“I like Gat’r,” Indigo declared, “and I’m glad he’s getting healthy.”

“You must watch out for Red,” Jewel said. “He needs more care than a five-year-old.”

Ceda laughed at the intuitive natures of the young nannies, who could so quickly identify personalities that needed assistance.

The nannies’ discussions with Ceda opened their eyes to the possibilities of becoming individuals, who could choose their own paths. Thereafter, instead of seeing the SADEs merely as instructors, they engaged them in discussions on any subject that caught their imagination.

Feeling emboldened, the nannies paid particular attention to the boys, the mining clones. Their focus was intense, and they were determined to offer the boys the same taste of independence.

9: Indictments

“He intends to do what?” Johann asked heatedly, forgetting he was speaking to his superior.

Van Dysen forgave the outburst. He expected anger from both the captain and the lieutenant who stood before him.

“I received a courtesy call from a council member, who wishes to remain anonymous,” van Dysen explained. “At the reading of charges today, Jacob Chabel will present petitions to the court. I don’t know the nature of these petitions, and neither did the councilor.”

“Why is Chabel representing the corporations?” Stacey asked. “I thought he abhorred their tactics.”

“I made some calls on this,” van Dysen replied. “Chabel has a son, Frederic, who’s a junior —”

“Ice racer,” Stacey finished. “Don’t tell us. Suddenly, a junior racer has a sponsor.”

“I’m afraid so,” van Dysen said.

“If the companies can buy Jacob Chabel, then our prosecutor is in trouble,” Johann commented disgustedly.

“Careful with your words, Captain,” van Dysen warned. “In public, that comment could constitute slander.”

“Will the suspects be read their charges and incarcerated before these petitions are presented?” Stacey inquired.

“I don’t know,” van Dysen replied. “This will be in the hands of the court.” He glanced at his slate. Time’s running short. I want the two of you in dress uniforms. I’ll meet you there.”

Johann and Stacey changed uniforms at the headquarters. Then they caught a transport toward Justice Hall.

Passengers regarded the two officers, who were dressed in a manner reserved for important occasions, and slates spun out images and messages that wondered to what event they might be headed.

“What do you think these petitions mean for the suspects?” Stacey asked.

“That’s not what I’m worried about,” Johann replied. “Cloning is an explosive subject. We’re threatening the corporations’ profits, and they’re spending enormous credits to disrupt the prosecutions. By the way, what’s the cost of a sponsorship?”

“Don’t follow ice racing?” Stacey queried, with an amused lift of a brow.

“Probably one of the few who doesn’t,” Johann replied.

“I’ve never heard of a junior racer getting a sponsor,” Stacey said. “However, if the deal was to support him like he was a national racer, it would be worth upward of one point three credits.”

“You need to be more specific, Lieutenant,” Johann directed.

“Sorry, Captain. That would be one point three million credits,” Stacey replied.

Johann’s mouth fell open and then clicked shut. Leaning close to Stacey, he said, “So that’s how much it takes to buy an attorney like Jacob Chabel.”

In Justice Hall, Johann and Stacey joined van Dysen in the observer rows. As the courtroom was packed, van Dysen had reserved three seats for them.

There was a brief delay, while the court set up. The prosecutor, Stephanie Wylie, connected her computer and set up her privacy screen, which would hide the projection from onlookers.

Soon afterward, Jacob Chabel entered with two other attorneys, and they repeated Stephanie’s exercise.

Finally, the defendants were led into the courtroom.

Johann and Stacey gazed at the trio, and they traded amazed glances.

Connor Metcalf and Melondy Phillips were immaculately dressed. They appeared as successful businesspeople, and they walked as if they were entering a meeting to negotiate a multimillion-credit deal.

The true surprise was that of Mathew Colbrum, the security commander. His full mods wouldn’t have been allowed in court, which is why he was expected to appear in medical whites. Instead, credits had been spent to fashion him a semblance of armor that hugged the skin.

“That must have cost,” Johann whispered to van Dysen, tipping his head toward the commander.

When the clerk saw the principals were ready, he signaled the judges.

Three individuals entered from a rear door and stepped onto a dais that was fronted by a bench carved of Naiad stone.

Gone were the days of ancient trappings for the judges. They wore clothing typical of Naiad’s elite.

“Come to order,” the clerk announced.

“If you’re ready to proceed, Prosecutor, please begin,” Chief Justice Ilfon Forlani said.

“We are, Your Honor,” Stephanie Wylie replied.

“Your Honors, the defense begs your indulgence,” Jacob Chabel said, jumping to his feet. “We’ve petitions that seek to have the court abrogate all charges against my clients. There are extremely unusual circumstances under which the evidence was collected.”

“Good morning, Mr. Chabel,” Ilfon said. “Ms. Wylie, how do you respond?”

“Your Honor, we have vid footage that accurately documents the circumstances under which the evidence was collected. These vids are uncontestable.”

“Your Honor, these vids originate from the aliens who visited Naiad,” Jacob objected. “We’re already aware that these aliens can manipulate our servers at will. How are we to judge the validity of what they present to us?”

“Is this correct, Ms. Wylie?” Justice Patrice Demos inquired.

“The SADEs did collect the imagery, Your Honor, but we’ve corroborative eyewitness testimony by two Naiad officers and several Genevans,” Stephanie replied.

Justice Demos indicated that Jacob should respond.

Chabel adopted a dismayed expression, and said, “The court should note that an X-Ore security agent was murdered during this investigation, and the responsible parties are also the eyewitnesses.”

“We object to our esteemed colleague referring to the death of the agent as murder,” Stephanie stated vigorously. “Agents under the leadership of X-Ore’s Commander Mathew Colbrum incarcerated our investigators and others in a metal trap. They were forced to take action to get free. In the course of events, the agent acted in a careless manner that resulted in his death.”

“Regardless of the circumstances, Your Honors,” Jacob responded, “the individuals responsible for this heinous act aren’t available for questioning by my staff.”

“Where are they, Ms. Wylie?” Justice Yule Stansky asked.

“They reside aboard the Alexander, Your Honor,” Stephanie replied.

“You know the law, Ms. Wylie. Direct your witnesses to appear before Mr. Chabel’s staff,” Yule ordered.

“I contacted the leader of the SADEs, Your Honor, and I was notified that the Alexander is sovereign territory, and that Naiad law doesn’t apply to those who reside aboard.”

“Well, we do have a problem, don’t we?” Yule said. It was obvious that he wasn’t happy, and the faces of the other two justices reflected his sentiment.

“Your Honors should be aware that if the three Genevans land on Naiad, charges will be pressed against them,” Jacob said.

“By whom and for what transgressions, Mr. Chabel?” the chief justice inquired.

“Councilor Laura Marolakos would request Naiad security lay the charges, Your Honor,” Jacob replied. “The three Genevans are guilty of kidnapping and cid theft, and one of the females is complicit in the death of the X-Ore agent.”

“Are these charges valid, Ms. Wylie?” Ilfon asked.

“The charges were dropped by the victims, Your Honor. Mr. Chabel knows this,” Stephanie rebutted.

“The victims may have dropped their complaints, but the perpetrators’ actions are uncontested,” Jacob retorted. “We have their confessions, and the councilor wants to see these dangerous crimes punished.”

The judges looked as if they’d been handed a Gordian knot, which might refuse to be untangled.

“May we presume your petitions are prepared, Mr. Chabel?” Ilfon queried.

“They are, Your Honor,” Jacob replied.

“Send them and copy Ms. Wylie,” Ilfon ordered. “Ms. Wylie, we’ll expect to hear your arguments within three days.”

“Understood, Your Honor,” Stephanie replied.

“Until our decisions are rendered on Mr. Chabel’s petitions, the court will allow the defendants free travel on Naiad, but they’re to be refused flight on any shuttle off planet,” Ilfon ordered. “Court dismissed.”

The justices exited the dais, and Jacob and his two associates collected their materials and left the courtroom just as quickly.

Stephanie stared at the retreating backs of the defendants’ attorneys. She didn’t hear the approach of the Naiad officers.

“Is it appropriate to suggest that you were taken by surprise, Ms. Wylie?” van Dysen offered.

“Not really,” Stephanie replied. “The moment I heard that Jacob Chabel had been hired by the defendants, or, better said, by the corporations, I knew our case was in trouble.”

“How’s that possible?” Johann asked. “I’ve never seen more compelling evidence.”

“Your bias is showing, Captain,” Stephanie remarked. “Much of your evidence has been collected by aliens and the criminally complicit, including the lieutenant and yourself. That’s hardly a compelling case.”

“Put all that aside, Ms. Wylie,” Stacey said. “You have proof of a clone in Ceda Geneva, and the other clones aboard the Alexander. Then you have the mickies who’ve been denied their cids.”

“Again, Lieutenant, Ceda isn’t here to testify,” Stephanie rejoined. “Neither are the nine clones from Beta One. I can bet you that I’ll find mention of their kidnapping within Chabel’s petitions. As for the mickies, they’re a minor infraction to which the companies will admit guilt, promise to rectify, and pay an insubstantial fine.”

When the officers deflated, Stephanie made her escape, mentioning her need to focus on the rebuttal to Chabel’s petitions.

On the transport return to Naiad security headquarters, the officers were quiet.

In the building, van Dysen rode the elevator upward, while Johann and Stacey exited at their floor.

Stacey followed Johann to his office, and he invited her to take a seat.

“Earlier, you said you thought our case was in trouble,” Stacey said. “Do you still believe that?”

Johann laughed harshly. “It’s worse,” he said. “Now, I think you and I are possibly facing criminal charges from more than one front.”

“The companies and the councilor,” Stacey surmised.

“Exactly,” Johann said.

“How far do you think this could go?” Stacey asked. “Could this be the end of our careers?”

“If that happens, we will have gotten off lightly,” Johann remarked.

“Incarceration?” Stacey queried nervously.

“Kidnapping of minors carries a hefty sentence,” Johann pointed out.

For the first time that Stacey could recall, she saw fear in Johann’s eyes, and that scared her more than when they were trapped in the CEO’s office. The thought that the SADEs had made the difference in those circumstances gave her an idea.

“Maybe we should ask for help or, if not help, maybe advice,” Stacey said, surreptitiously pointing a finger upward.

Johann frowned, and Stacey made a floating motion with her hand.

“There’s nothing wrong with seeking legal advice, Lieutenant,” Johann said. “Why don’t we meet at eight hours at my place to discuss it?”

However, when Johann had said eight, he’d held up six fingers, and when he said my place, he’d pointed at Stacey.

“Thank you, Captain,” Stacey said, and made her way to her office.

The rest of the day passed swiftly for both officers. At six hours, Stacey received notice from Johann that he’d entered her building’s lobby. Then Stacey used her slate to give him access to the elevator.

When Johann entered the apartment, Stacey asked, “Are we overreacting? I mean, are we letting paranoia drive us?”

“Let me ask you a question, Stacey,” Johann said, slipping into the familiar during off-duty hours. “How badly do you want to remain free?”

“I take your meaning,” Stacey said. Actually, she was relieved that Johann had the same thought as her. “Drink?” she inquired.

“Anything nonalcoholic and non-stim,” Johann replied.

Johann followed Stacey into her tiny kitchen. She was making some sort of hot drink for herself, and she poured a cup for him.

Johann sipped and paid Stacey a nice compliment about the flavor. Returning to the small combo dining-living room, he asked, “What would you say to the SADEs?”

Stacey chuckled softly. “What usually happens with the SADEs?” she offered.

“True,” Johann admitted. “They’re always ahead of us.”

“Shall we?” Stacey asked, holding up her slate.

“Agreed,” Johann replied.

Stacey used the only opportunity she had to connect with the SADEs. She tapped the controller icon on her slate.

“Greetings, Stacey,” instantly issued from the slate. It was Cremsylon’s voice. “You’ve had a difficult day. Do I detect the sound of the captain’s breathing?”

Johann shook his head at the acute senses of a SADE. “I’m here, Cremsylon. Actually, I can think of a few darker adjectives than ‘difficult’ to describe our day.”

“You heard what was said in the courtroom?” Stacey asked.

“It’s convenient that every citizen carries a slate,” Cremsylon replied, giving up the manner in which the SADEs eavesdropped on the court proceedings.

Johann struggled to ask his first question, but Stacey wasn’t interested in a point-by-point approach to the analysis.

“Cremsylon, where do you think this is going?” Stacey inquired.

“Kelley’s father was a notable engineer,” Cremsylon replied. “In these circumstances, he’d have said, ‘Things are going downhill fast, and they’ll probably crash at the bottom.’”

“Could we have a translation?” Johann requested. Before he met the SADEs, he might have been peeved by the obtuse response. Having met them, he was willing to be patient. The SADEs always made things clear if you gave them time to explain.

“Having endangered a critical point of the companies’ profits, they’re willing to use every means possible on the political, judicial, and economic front to achieve victory,” Cremsylon explained.

“What does this mean for us?” Stacey asked. “I mean the two of us?”

“More than likely, the captain and you will become collateral damage,” Cremsylon opined. “Discrediting you is a key strategy for the companies.”

“And you can’t help, can you?” Johann asked.

“We’ll be joining you in the bucket reserved for the disgraced and distrusted,” Cremsylon replied.

“You don’t seem disturbed by this,” Johann noted.

“We’ve been here before, Captain,” Cremsylon replied. “Our struggles with new races have similar beginnings. Those in power want to maintain it at all costs. To supplant them, the populace must become convinced of a better alternative.”

“So, you’re not abandoning Naiad or the human race?” Stacey asked hopefully. She heard a gentle laugh and wondered who the SADE was channeling.

“We aren’t so easily dissuaded, Lieutenant,” Cremsylon reassured her. “For us, your investigation and return have been extremely instructive. In a short time, we’ve learned a great deal about the organizations, the players, and your society’s methods.”

“What are you planning to do next?” Johann inquired.

“It’s time to go around the obstructionists and speak directly to the citizens. Watch your slates,” Cremsylon said. Then he closed the link.

Stacey sat for a while, thinking about what was said by Attorney Chabel. “I’m not going to be incarcerated,” she declared.

“If that’s what the court decides, what’s the alternative?” Johann asked. “When the decision comes down, you aren’t allowed to go home and mull things over.”

“I’m not going to give the justices a chance,” Stacey said. “I know where to go to be safe.”

“The Alexander,” Johann surmised.

“Precisely, as the SADEs would say. You coming?” Stacey asked.

Johann didn’t answer her. He finished his drink, said good night, and left.

However, Stacey knew she’d planted a seed. It just needed time to grow. She was determined that the captain, whom she considered to be a good and honest man, wouldn’t be found guilty and incarcerated.

10: You’re on the Air

Bethany was guided by Escher to delve into the more complicated aspects of her implant. The controller represented an excellent target for their practice. Image manipulation, exploring data folders, queries and responses, and spatial calculations were a few of their endeavors.

Days later, Nalia removed the final set of Bethany’s gauze wrappings and examined the healed tissues.

“Your body has been returned to you without augments, Bethany,” Nalia pronounced.

Bethany shuddered. She experienced a deep sense of relief from a torment she wouldn’t have thought she’d been suffering.

“I’m ready to take on my suit,” Bethany said excitedly. “Escher and I’ve been practicing on various implant apps.”

“As we’re aware,” Nalia replied

“Apologies, Nalia. Of course, you’d know,” Bethany said.

“Then you believe your expertise is sufficient to investigate the suit application?” Nalia inquired.

“Yes,” Bethany replied with determination.

“So be it,” Nalia replied, and Bethany received a robust application in her implant.

Immediately, Bethany left medical and headed for her cabin to communicate with her suit. On the way, she installed the app and investigated the myriad controls available to her.

Nalia alerted Z and Miranda that the ex-commander seemed determined to learn her suit’s operation by herself.

The SADEs waited for Bethany in the corridor outside her cabin.

<She’s halted,> Z noted, except he was late with his sending. Miranda was already striding down the corridor.

On a lower level, the SADEs found Bethany seated on the deck, with her back against the bulkhead. A nanny sat beside her, keeping her company in her time of distress.

“We have her, young one,” Miranda said gently.

Indigo rose, touched Miranda’s arm in thanks, and continued to her lesson.

From Bethany’s protected position, she could see the armored feet of Z and Miranda. “I don’t think this was such a good idea,” she muttered

“Then we’ll remove the application for you,” Miranda replied.

“That’s it?” Bethany asked, raising her head and displaying pain-filled eyes. “Are there no other options?”

“Assuredly,” Z replied. “My partner was merely acquiescing to your suggestion.”

“Okay, okay. I’m playing the defeatist,” Bethany admitted. “What do I need to do?” Suddenly, her headache was greatly relieved. The longer she sat on the deck, the more it faded.

“What did you do?” Bethany inquired

“You were opening multiple aspects of the application, and each signaled for your attention,” Miranda explained. “The activity overloaded your mind. I closed all but one element of the application, and I left your comm open. Now, perhaps, you’ll allow us to train you.”

Rather than agree to the offer, which the SADEs calculated would be Bethany’s response, she extended her hand to Z, who gently hauled her off the deck.

On the way to Bethany’s cabin, Miranda and Z discussed the steps that they would take during the coming days to teach her to be proficient with her suit.

“When can I address the suit?” Bethany asked.

“We’ll make that your first step,” Miranda replied. “However, before you proceed further than that, you must gain an understanding of the application’s complexity.”

“Do you know what you’ll call your suit?” Z asked. In response to Bethany’s furrowed brow, the SADE added, “A fine piece of construction like this that can respond to intricate directives should have a name.”

“You talk like it has a personality,” Bethany pointed out.

“Z has named every avatar that he’s created,” Miranda explained. “He’s quite proud of his efforts. You might wish to know that our mentor, Alex Racine, approached Z to discuss his research into creating avatars when SADEs were still encased in boxes.”

Bethany eyed the SADEs. “You make me feel childish for my reaction to the momentary mental pain that I just endured,” she said. “I can’t imagine intelligent entities, such as you, being kept in cases for decades.”

“Try centuries,” Z replied.

“Even worse,” Bethany lamented.

“Enough wallowing in our history,” Miranda chided. “Think on Z’s suggestion, Bethany. Naming the suit will help you develop an intimacy with it. The relationship might save your life.”

The thought that the SADEs foresaw Bethany and the suit in dire circumstances gave her resolve not to be found wanting for the necessary expertise.

Z triggered Bethany’s cabin door, but she stood in the corridor.

“Ancient Greeks of Earth had a goddess, Athena, who only took part in wars that were fought in self-defense,” Bethany mused. “She was the divine personification of reasoning, wisdom, and knowledge. Athena will be my suit’s name.”

“We approve,” Miranda said, sharing her triumph with the other SADEs.

Because Bethany had a goal, her development with the suit’s app was quick. Within three days, Miranda and Z pronounced Bethany able to proceed on her own.

Soon afterward, Bethany and Athena became an inseparable pair. When seen outside her cabin, Bethany was wrapped in Athena, but she kept her mask-helmet recessed.

Cremsylon, having finished his discussion with the two Naiad officers after their abysmal day in court, approached Escher and Bethany, who were in the company of Allie, Ceda, and Jasper’s gang.

“Am I interrupting?” Cremsylon asked politely, which elicited laughter.

“Do we need privacy, Cremsylon?” Escher inquired, having received the SADE’s message requesting a conversation with Bethany and him.

“Many minds are always better than one when strategies are involved,” Cremsylon replied. “Those who wish to share thoughts about the broadcasts may stay.”

The term broadcast caught imaginations, and spots on the green were sought to hear the SADE.

“I assume that most heard the results of the Naiad courtroom proceedings,” Cremsylon said. It was an unnecessary statement. The SADEs knew exactly who was linked to the controller, for how long, and for which feed. In this instance, it was a test to see who were adopting their implants.

<Bot-boy,> Cremsylon sent privately, <you needn’t express your thoughts with such strength. They’re coming through clearly.>

<Sorry,> Bot-boy sent. <I always had to shout over the gang to gain attention.>

<Understood,> Cremsylon sent. <With your implant, you’ll always be heard.>

Cremsylon updated his audience on the conversation with Johann and Stacey.

“Then it’s time to start the broadcasts,” Escher surmised.

“What broadcasts?” Lita inquired.

Escher and Bethany described their idea of sending messages systemwide from the Alexander to influence the populace.

Scrounger shook his head. “Weak,” he commented. “It’s all one way.”

“Scrounger’s right,” Jasper added. “You should be talking with the citizens not at them.”

“Agreed,” Bibi said. “You need to know what the locals are thinking.”

“So, how many opinions should we solicit and from whom?” Bethany asked. In her mind, she envisioned a small, orderly line of citizens.

Red laughed and said, “Ask everyone.”

“Sure,” Bot-boy said excitedly. “Cremsylon, you can contact the entire population, right?”

“Assuredly,” Cremsylon replied. “Slates are omnipresent.”

“See, Escher,” Bot-boy continued, “this will be just like your search program for Scrounger’s parts that you created on your computer. Only this time, the SADEs will filter the calls from the slates.”

Escher, who was excited by the concept, smiled brightly at Bethany. Then his smile faded. Bethany looked like she had swallowed something distasteful. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I can see me either reverting to a commander role and firing back at the responders or, worse, getting tongue-tied,” Bethany replied.

“Why?” Tammy asked. “After all, you’re incognito.”

Bethany frowned at her and said, “The broadcasts are on vid. They’ll see my face.”

Suddenly, the gang was united in denial. “No, no,” they shouted in unison.

Lita jumped to her feet and hushed the gang. Then she addressed Bethany. “Tell Athena to raise your hood part, Bethany. You’ll be this mysterious figure.”

“Right,” Jasper echoed. “Escher, think of an inventive way of introducing Bethany.”

Doc raised her hand, and Jasper asked, “What are you thinking, Doc?”

“Aren’t the broadcasts designed to get the citizens talking?” Doc asked. When she heard affirmatives, she continued, “If Bethany appears as an unknown, it will create speculation, which will make her a topic to share. That has to be as important as the questions and answers.”

<There is much wisdom among the young ones,> Z commented to the SADEs.

<Tough lives force biologicals to think for themselves and to do so quickly,> Emory commented. He wore his Crocian avatar and was waddling around a bay, where he wouldn’t frighten the clone children.

The audience stared expectantly at Bethany.

In reply, Bethany signaled Athena, and the suit’s mask-helmet slid over her face. Rather than the helmet of a traditional environment suit, which allowed movement room for the head, this portion conformed closely to Bethany’s face. Her eyes could be visible or the micromesh could be closed, hiding her eyes from view but allowing her to see out.

∞

The SADEs fashioned a brief message.

The following afternoon, every slate in the Gelus system received the message and an icon, which had Alexander emblazoned around an image of the ship.

Laura Marolakos stared at her message and swore. She placed a call to Jason Lazama, but the chairperson didn’t answer.

Instead, Jason was on a conference call with Frank Allbers, Karl Denham, and Lisa Dyehouse.

“Should we make an announcement prior to this interactive broadcast?” Frank asked.

“And what would we say?” Lisa shot back. “Please, everyone, don’t listen to the aliens. We’d make the citizens curious, and more of them would join.”

“What if we had a network outage?” Karl suggested. “Comtech could state that there was an overload.”

“The council just spent tens of millions of credits to upgrade the slate system,” Jason pointed out. “If comtech made the council look bad by announcing a major problem, the council would launch an investigation, and we might get caught out. Good idea, but too risky.”

“I don’t think we have any choice but to let the broadcast proceed uninterrupted,” Lisa said, “but I plan to prepare some callers with our agenda in mind when they talk to the hosts.”

“That’s it, everyone,” Jason said. “I’ve got a nervous councilor’s call to return.” He could hear the other board chairpersons’ laughter, as he ended the link.

Precisely at eight hours in the evening, citizens across Naiad, and aboard shuttles, the station, intrasystem ships, an Axis-ship, and in domes on several system bodies, tapped their slates’ Alexander icons.

One of those citizens was a teenage girl, Ashley. Instantly, she recognized Escher’s face, and she called to her parents and older brother. “I talked to this man,” she said, as they gathered around her. “He and a woman needed help with the transports. I thought he was strange. Maybe he’s one of those aliens.”

“Greetings, as our SADE friends would say,” Escher said to his huge audience. He’d received a message from Z that millions of citizens were online with the ship. “I’d like to introduce my friend. She’s not a SADE. She’s human. While you might be interested in what I have to say, you’ll also want to hear from someone who knows the corporations’ ways intimately. For the sake of her privacy, we’ll call her Athena.”

Bethany laughed. It was warm and rich, which had listeners’ ears perking up.

“The purpose of these interactive broadcasts is to educate the citizenry,” Escher continued. “I’m a product of the corporations. My parents are engineers on Geneva. I was raised on mining planets, and I thought I understood how mining planets and society, in general, operate. I can’t tell you how ignorant I was of reality. For instance, did you know that cloning is prospering on the rim planets?”

Escher cued Kelley, who switched to the first caller.

“You’re on the air,” Escher said, which he’d been dying to say.

“Why should we take your word for what’s happening on the rim?” the caller asked belligerently. “Aren’t you an accused criminal?”

“Did I perform a criminal act to escape being kidnapped by a corporate security commander? Yes, I did,” Escher replied. “No one was injured by my actions, and the two victims retracted their charges. And if you’d like to know the truth, query comtech for the records of Citizen Ceda Geneva. That should open your eyes.”

Comtech suffered an overload as hundreds of thousands of the populace sent queries to Naiad servers. The information returned to slates was sparse, which made the citizens suspicious. Especially damning was the issue date of Ceda’s cid, which was not more than two months in the past. Yet, by her image, she was an adult.

Messages flew between slates, as the citizens compared notes about their discovery.

The next caller asked, “Athena, why can’t you show yourself? What are you hiding?”

“Caller, your question is unanswerable,” Bethany replied. “However, I’d like to reply to the first caller’s accusation. I say to that individual that you don’t have to accept our words about clones. The answer has been in front of you for centuries. Why haven’t you seen it? For those who don’t mind conducting some research, here’s my challenge to you. Naiad has compiled centuries of data on the mining of our planet’s moons, the rim moons, and the outer ring. The output of those activities and the number of personnel involved in the efforts are public records. The same is true for the work of each corporate mining planet. I dare you to compare the results, and I look forward to hearing from some of you about what you’ve found.”

Scientists and engineers across Naiad hit comtech’s servers. The number of queries was less than the previous onslaught, who sought information about Ceda. Nevertheless, the load was similar. Although fewer citizens, these technical queries had many parts and required greater processing time from the servers.

The questions and answers to and from the servers would continue nonstop long after the scheduled hour.

When Escher thanked the audience for their participation, he reminded them that the broadcast would resume the following night. Also, he told them that the report about unusual court proceedings should interest them.

The SADEs ended the calls. Bethany signaled Athena to shed the mask-helmet, and Escher blew out a sigh of relief.

Around the ship were noises of celebration, especially among Jasper’s gang, who thought their suggestions had worked wonders.

“That was harder than I thought it would be,” Escher said to Bethany.

“It was as tough as I imagined,” Bethany replied. “Truth be told, I wanted to shake the neck of a few of those callers.”

“We identified each caller,” Kelley told the pair. “Several have direct connections to corporate directors, and one of them was Frederic Chabel, son of Attorney Jacob Chabel.”

“That explains a lot,” Bethany grumped.

∞

Escher’s and Bethany’s strategy of challenging the citizenry proved to be an effective means of generating interest.

Comtech was deluged with demands as to why the records of Ceda Geneva were truncated. They were met with replies to contact Naiad security. That only heightened curiosity.

Next, security’s virtual assistants handled hundreds of thousands of messages stating that they were referred to security by comtech for information about Ceda Geneva.

It was fortune whether a call or message connected with a virtual assistant named Samuel. For those citizens who heard the assistant’s offer to help and who requested information on Ceda Geneva, they received a complete history of the clone, including her escape from Geneva to Naiad.

One such fortunate individual was a teenage girl.

Ashley reviewed her download and screamed to her family, who, thinking the girl had suffered some severe trauma, came running.

“I told you that they were an unusual couple,” Ashley said, jumping up and down and celebrating her success. “The man wasn’t an alien. He was the Genevan accompanying a woman, who’s the mysterious clone. The couple was running from security for the Alexander. I met them, and now I’ve learned the woman’s identity.”

Ashley became a one-person viral sensation. She posted her findings from Samuel, related the tale of her encounter, and offered the idea that Naiad officials were hiding the existence of clones on the rim.

Frederic Chabel took his slate to his father. “You need to see this,” he said.

Jacob put his caller on hold and read Ashley’s post. “Thank you,” he told his son and dismissed him. Returning to his call, he said, “I just read the teenager’s post. That’s one for the other side, but I still think our petitions will be accepted by the court. However, these types of messages will whip up sentiment against the corporations. What about Athena’s challenge?”

“We have our people running the data and looking over the shoulders of the research groups,” Lisa Dyehouse replied.

“What’s the possibility that enough individuals can prove what Athena suggested?” Jacob inquired.

“Hard to know,” Lisa replied. “We certainly didn’t think of this kind of approach.”

“Which is what Athena was saying ... it was under Naiad’s nose all the time,” Jacob pointed out. “I suspect the digital aliens are behind some, if not all, of these machinations.”

“I would say they’re the main drivers of this smear campaign,” Lisa opined.

“I don’t wish to disabuse you of your opinion, Lisa,” Jacob returned. “But it’s only a smear campaign if it’s untrue. In this case, our adversaries are cleverly using facts and reality against us. It’s a tough combination to fight.”

Lisa bit her lip. She was forced to walk a tight line in her dealings with Jacob. To make matters difficult, she had a tendency to fall into corporatespeak. When it came to the case, she had to remember to ask questions and let the attorney give his advice. Otherwise, she should try to keep her mouth shut.

“Thank you for your call, Lisa. Please let me know if Athena’s challenge is proven,” Jacob said and closed the link. He could hear Frederic in another room, talking to his racing manager. “I hope you didn’t do something foolish,” he muttered, thinking about this deal with Dyehouse and Allbers to help his son.

Escher had once interrupted the efforts of a research director’s team on the Densing Array. They were running complicated analyses on the array’s imagery. That same director tasked his group of scientists with the Athena challenge.

“But we’re not accountants,” a senior researcher objected.

“We’re not, but would the financial people know where to look?” the director asked.

“That only makes each group of us ineffective,” another researcher said. Then after a pause, she added, “Unless we work together.”

“And there you have it,” the director said. “I’ve sent every one of you an app from an A-rated financial advisory group. We need to slot our data into the app. It doesn’t have to be pretty. Just make it robust. They’ll sort out the numbers.”

“Why would a top-rated group of financial people want to help us with this?” the senior researcher inquired.

“One, they also want to know the answer. Two, my brother-in-law is a partner at the company,” the director replied, laughing at the serendipity.

Many groups of disparate individuals combined their expertise to tackle Athena’s challenge. The answer was too important to ignore. Furthermore, citizens were intrigued and hungry to know the truth.

Within less than a full cycle, the data was published in every conceivable manner: news organizations, online periodicals, and the slate network, to mention a few. The results varied but not significantly. The summaries were stark indictments.

Never in the past half millennium had Naiad ever approached the mining output of four of the five corporations. There was a singular exception. One company, CenGas, fell in line with Naiad’s numbers.

While the underlying reasons for the disparities weren’t part of the summaries, it was noted, time and again, that something contributed overwhelmingly to the success of four companies. Somehow, with their stated employee numbers, they managed to exceed Naiad’s output capabilities by an average of sixty-five percent annually.

When Lisa Dyehouse received an update on the various findings, she made a quick call to Jacob Chabel.

“Your information isn’t necessary, Lisa,” Jacob said, interrupting Lisa’s introduction for the reason she called. “The analyses are all over the media.”

“What does this do to our case?” Lisa asked.

“Nothing,” Jacob replied. “The court has our petitions, and it must rule on them. Naiad security overstepped its bounds, and I’m confident the justices will see it that way.”

“Then X-Ore’s employees will be acquitted,” Lisa surmised.

“Not exactly,” Jacob replied. “The officers’ actions will be found to be unlawful, which will necessitate the charges be dropped, which means they’re free to go. That doesn’t mean that X-Ore isn’t guilty of breaking Naiad law.”

“Freeing the employees is what we’re after,” Lisa said with relief.

“A warning for you, Lisa, which I trust you’ll share with your cabal,” Jacob said. “You might have won this round, but you’re about to face a serious backlash. The public has become painfully aware of your transgressions.”

Lisa felt it was time to push back against Jacob’s legal advice. “While I appreciate the opinion, Attorney Chabel, you should understand that we consider many Naiad laws, especially those about cloning, to be outmoded. We’ll use every resource at hand to reverse these laws.”

“Was there anything else, Chairperson Dyehouse?” Jacob inquired.

“No,” Lisa replied, and she saw the connection drop.

Afterward, Jacob chose to take a long shower. He was disappointed that it didn’t make him feel clean.

11: Second Show

With the Alexander’s second broadcast due in about four hours, the four chairpersons huddled.

“That’s good news about Jacob’s thoughts, Lisa,” Jason said. “I assume he’s told my people.”

“I don’t know that,” Lisa replied. “Attorney Chabel is regretting his decision to accept you as a client.”

“That’s to be expected, and that’s his problem,” Jason replied. “As long as his son’s racing team deposits the sponsor’s credits, he’ll serve us well.”

“We need to talk about these broadcasts and public opinion,” Karl Denham, chairperson of Raw Metals, said. “Chabel is right that we’re about to become pariahs on this planet.”

“Don’t panic, Karl,” Jason said harshly. “The boards need to remain here. This is where the battles will be waged, and the war will be won.”

“I agree,” Lisa said. “We need to shape public opinion in our favor and reverse these onerous laws.”

“I’m not so sure,” Frank Allbers, of Regolith Recovery, said. “Yes, these are laws that can be contested in court, but there is the underlying ethical question.”

“No,” Jason said harshly. “Don’t talk like that. Clones are products just like mining regolith, metals, and gases. We manufacture them, and we’ve the right to do with them as we please.”

It was obvious that Jason had been drinking prior to the face-to-face meeting. He was known to be an ugly drunk, and his belligerent attitude had the other chairpersons retreating.

“What’s prepared for tonight’s broadcast?” Jason asked Lisa.

“Not much,” Lisa replied, and she kept a calm expression when Jason glowered at her. “Our attempts to subvert last night’s broadcast backfired. Our best challenges were turned upside down by Escher and Athena and used against us with the public.”

“Try something else,” Jason demanded.

“Such as?” Lisa shot back.

Jason fumed, but his mind was too clouded to think clearly. “Think of something, Lisa,” he shouted. Then he grabbed his coat and stormed out of her apartment.

“That went well,” Karl commented softly.

“Despite the tirade, Jason is right,” Lisa said regretfully. “We’re dependent on continuous shipments of clones, and X-Ore is the only source.”

“Maybe, it’s time that we forego the income and cease the use of clones,” Karl offered.

“Don’t let Jason hear you say that,” Frank warned.

“Listen to what you’re saying,” Karl challenged. “Jason heads a single company, X-Ore. He can’t dictate how we run our businesses.”

“You’re prepared to have Jason cancel your clone shipments?” Lisa asked dubiously. “Then what will you say to your investors when they storm your apartment?”

“That’s if you survive a vote by your board,” Frank added.

When the individuals fell silent, Lisa called an end to the meeting. Afterward, she mulled possible ways to derail the upcoming broadcast. Nothing inventive came to mind, and she decided not to make things worse by attempting to have callers offer weak arguments.

∞

“Greetings, Naiads and rim visitors,” Escher said to open the second broadcast. “We’d like to dedicate this show to Ashley. You know her by her post, which detailed Ceda Geneva’s history. By a happy coincidence, Ceda and I met Ashley at a transport station about a month ago, and she proved to be extremely helpful at a critical time for us. Thank you, Ashley.”

Ashley’s parents and brother stared aghast at her. The teenager was briefly in shock. Then she screamed in delight, as she jumped up and down around the salon.

“She’s going to be hard to live with for a long time,” the father commented.

“Incorrigible,” the mother replied. Then she added, with a smile, “Still, she’s got a right to celebrate.”

The Naiad audience watched a young woman take a seat on the opposite side of Escher. Citizens checked their download of Ashley’s clone information. The face was the same.

“Hello, Naiads,” Ceda said. “I’d like to add my thanks to Ashley. This is the second time that she’s been invaluable to us. To the wider audience, I’d like to add a little detail to what you’ve read. Yes, I’m a clone. For annuals, I never understood what that meant. I was trained, and then, at the age of twelve, I was shipped from one planet to another. On Geneva, I was assigned to a family. I was their unpaid servant, a corporate perquisite, for fifteen years. As a clone, I was one of the fortunate ones. I worked for a good family, and I loved the two children. When the opportunity to escape was presented to me, I jumped at the chance.”

Ceda accepted the first caller.

“Why do you say you were a fortunate clone?” the caller asked.

<This is different,> Bethany sent to Escher. <Where are the negative callers?>

<Maybe you were just too good for them, Athena,> Escher replied, referring to Bethany’s alternate persona.

<Right,> Bethany sent, expressing her amusement. <And across space, there is nothing but good people.>

“To the corporations, clones are products,” Ceda replied to the caller. “They’re assigned where there are needs. For the boys, who are nothing but teenagers, they’re tasked as miners. When they’re injured, little is done by medical to repair them. It’s a matter of cost. It’s cheaper to purchase new clones than to spend the credits to maintain the old ones.”

“That’s not right,” the caller said indignantly.

“Couldn’t agree with you more,” Ceda replied.

“We promised you some news about court proceedings,” Escher said. “Athena will introduce the subject.”

“I thought I’d hear from some of you tonight about your research. That seems moot,” Bethany said, adding her warm laughter. “Well done. I did learn something from your analyses that was unexpected. One of the companies doesn’t fit the corporate model. That makes me curious. I invite the CenGas chairperson to call us. We’d be interested to hear her explanation.”

Kelley couldn’t resist signaling Bethany about an anxious caller, and she accepted.

“Hello, Athena, it’s a pleasure to talk to you,” the caller said.

Bethany frowned, which wasn’t visible behind Athena’s mask-helmet. The caller’s tone was too enthusiastic.

“I was wondering, Athena, if you would consider a date,” the caller asked.

Bethany chuckled. “You don’t know what I look like or how old I am,” she retorted.

“Doesn’t matter to me,” the caller returned. “I like the sound of your voice and your laughter.”

“Thank you for the compliment, but my duties will be aboard this ship and wherever it takes me,” Bethany replied.

“Okay, but, if you return, keep me in mind. I’m sure the SADEs know who I am,” the caller said, and Kelley ended the link.

“Returning to the business at hand,” Bethany said. “Let me tell you how my challenge and your research relate to a recent court action. In the company of two Naiad officers, we landed at Beta One, X-Ore’s initial mining planet. In the course of events, CEO Connor Metcalf and Commander Mathew Colbrum attempted to incarcerate us. With the help of the SADEs, we managed to free ourselves, and, after a brief fight, the commander’s agents were subdued. Unfortunately, the agents suffered one fatality.”

Kelley signaled, and Bethany accepted.

“If you accompanied duly sworn officers, and you had authorization to conduct an investigation, why would the CEO and commander not comply with your requests?” the caller asked.

Escher didn’t recognize the voice, but he hadn’t known most of those who had called. Actually, it was the work of Diana Breneman, the comtech director, who thought to use a virtual assistant to relay her conversation with the Alexander.

“You would have to ask those two individuals, who are appearing in Naiad court with various criminal charges against them,” Bethany continued. “A third employee, Melondy Phillips, the director of the cloning department, is also on trial.”

“What we found was appalling,” Ceda interjected. “Imagine huge bays filled with nothing but clone children, training as nannies, miners, and for other menial tasks. When training is complete, the majority are sold by X-Ore to other corporations. That was my fate at twelve years old.”

“If the SADEs were present, surely the three X-Ore employees will be found guilty of the charges. The SADEs would have indisputable records of the events,” Diana said through the assistant.

“You would think so,” Bethany replied. “However, X-Ore has hired the eminent attorney, Jacob Chabel. He’s petitioning the court to drop the charges against the X-Ore employees. The premise is that the Naiad officers overstepped their authority.”

Bethany accepted another caller, who asked, “I’ve been wondering why the SADEs are here in the first place. What do they want?”

Bethany indicated Escher with a hand.

“That’s a long and complicated story,” Escher replied. “The short answer is that there is a second similar ship in our area of space. It’s also crewed by a sect of SADEs called sisters. These sisters aren’t our friends. They believe in dominating biological races.”

“Does that mean there will be a war?” the caller asked.

“Negative,” Escher stated definitively. “The SADEs aboard the Alexander don’t believe in killing their own kind, and they try not to be responsible for the deaths of others except in self-defense.”

“You mentioned the Alexander, but not the other ship,” the caller pointed out.

“The other ship is the Dominance,” Escher replied. “I think the sisters’ name for their ship tells you everything you need to know about them.”

“Do you know where the Dominance is now?” the caller asked with trepidation.

“That ship entered the rim at Beta Two via the Satchel Wormhole,” Bethany replied. “The sisters set up a manufacturing location on the mining planet to assist the local populace and to manufacture more sisters.”

Suddenly, the SADEs were flooded with millions of calls. The questioners sought clarity about Bethany’s last statement.

Kelley summarized the questions for Bethany.

“Seems as if I’ve both confused and startled you,” Bethany said, chuckling. “Perhaps, your science fiction stories encompassed nothing but fleets engaged in desperate battles. Admittedly, mine did. Reality can be much more insidious. Both the SADEs and the sisters are capable of delivering a tremendous technological uplift to a society. In itself, the tech can deliver marvelous things to a populace. What must be discerned are the intentions behind the gifts. Do they originate from a desire to help or to suborn?”

Z listened to a caller and put her at the top of the queue. He’d identified her slate as belonging to Lisa Dyehouse, chairperson of the Pure Pour board.

Kelley noted Z’s message and signaled Bethany, who accepted the call.

“Athena, you and your companions are making sweeping statements about our court proceedings and the aliens,” Lisa said. “You propose that we should embrace one group of the aliens but not the others. All the while you hide from public view. You must see how that destroys your credibility.”

“You’re correct, Chairperson Lisa Dyehouse,” Bethany said, outing the woman. Then she signaled Athena, and the suit slid the mask-helmet off her head. “My name is Bethany McIntyre. For more than a decade, I was a Naiad undercover agent. I attained the rank of commander on Beta Two, and I was present to witness the events that I’ve been describing.”

Lisa was taken aback, and she could have kicked herself for attempting to subvert the broadcast. She’d warned Jason that earlier techniques had backfired. When nothing else had occurred to her, she decided to try a direct assault on Athena’s hidden identity. Now, she’d committed the same mistake. She’d given the broadcasters a chance to turn the table on her.

Commandant Paul van Dysen, who was watching the broadcast, like most of Naiad, swore harshly and barely resisted his desire to throw his slate across the room. The existence of highly placed undercover agents within corporations had just been exposed by Bethany. He knew the CEOs and commanders of the mining planets had long suspected Naiad security of infiltrating their ranks. Now they had proof.

Members of the council, Claudia Hoffing, James Soisson, and Ramiro Ferraro were seated together with David Yewall in his apartment.

James stared at the others and said, “I think Bethany cracked a surface hatch, and the air flooded out of Naiad security.”

“I can just imagine van Dysen’s reaction,” Ramiro added.

“I’m wondering what Laura is thinking,” Claudia said.

“Or the corporate board directors,” David offered.

In another apartment, Stacey Caballero’s finger hovered over the Alexander icon.

“Don’t,” Johann warned.

Nonetheless, Stacey tapped the icon and waited.

Johann actually wanted Stacey to make the call, but he felt it was his duty, as her senior officer, to wave her off.

Miranda fielded Stacey’s call, moved it to the top of the queue, and messaged Escher.

“Go ahead, caller,” Escher said, careful not to mention Stacey’s name.

“In your answer to a previous caller, you said that the SADEs have indisputable evidence of their visits to the rim planets,” Stacey said. “How is it that we haven’t seen any of these records on the media? Isn’t the Alexander sovereign territory, which would give the SADEs the right to share what they wish with Naiad media?”

“A complex series of questions, caller,” Escher replied. “Let me take them one at a time. SADEs record events in real time. They preserve these types of recordings in their original formats. Why, you might ask? They do this for accuracy, which is critical to them. That’s why their evidence is undeniable. As to why you haven’t seen any recordings on Naiad media, you’d have to ask the SADEs. I suspect they hope to see Naiad dispense justice, which is often confused with blindly following precedence. Those earlier decisions might be outmoded or might have been set by biased justices. Would you like me to ask the SADEs to play something for you?”

“Absolutely,” Stacey replied.

<Escher,> Kelley sent, <request a poll. Two taps on the Alexander icon.>

“Naiads, if you’d like to see an example of SADE event documentation, tap your contact icon twice,” Escher said. He laughed when he received Kelley’s message. “The SADEs know when you’ve tapped multiples of two times. However, we have a majority of Naiad citizens who wish to see an example.”

<Which event, Escher?> Kelley sent.

Escher’s mistake was to ask for advice on an open conference channel, and he was inundated with suggestions. He chose one from Miranda and one from Ceda.

“This first montage has been recorded by one SADE as another SADE tested the trap the X-Ore CEO laid for us,” Escher said.

From Miranda’s viewpoint, the Naiad audience watched a behemoth SADE, who was Z, repeatedly slam his foot into the metal alloy door that led to the office exit. Miranda had zoomed into the impact point, showing the barely dented surface.

“As you can see, the office was designed to either protect the CEO or trap unwitting guests,” Escher commented. “This next recording may be painful to watch. You heard from Ceda about the bays filled with clone children and the treatment of them. You might wonder what happens to these unfortunates when they’re of no use to the corporations. Children shouldn’t watch this vid.”

Escher counted down the start of the vid, and the audience saw Ceda, from Z’s viewpoint, enter a bay filled with rudimentary beds. They watched her approach an elderly woman, who woke as Ceda sat beside her. There was a brief exchange of words, a sip of water, and the woman’s eyes closed.

“Did the old woman die?” Stacey asked anxiously.

“Yes, she did,” Ceda replied.

The vid continued, and Naiads watched medical personnel enter the bay. Then they saw Ceda launch herself at the medical director, only to be halted midair.

“What just happened?” Stacey asked.

“I was angrier than I’d ever been,” Ceda said, “and I wanted to get my hands on the medical director. Rightfully, you see a SADE called Z hoist me in the air to stop my attack.”

“Thank you,” Stacey said and ended the call.

“Well done,” Johann said quietly to Stacey.

“You were afraid I was going to ask about the court drama, weren’t you?” Stacey replied.

“It crossed my mind,” Johann admitted.

The broadcast ran well over the time allotted. The audience was engaged, and the questions posed were intelligent. Naiads learned more about rim operations than they had in the past fifty years.

The final citizen asked an unusual question that helped Escher and Bethany to underline an earlier point.

“We’ve seen images of the SADEs, but you haven’t shown us any vids of the sisters. I suppose they might have frightened the children,” the caller said.

Escher, Bethany, and Ceda laughed.

“Sorry, caller,” Escher said quickly. “That wasn’t aimed at you. You asked a good question. The answer will surprise you. Remember what Bethany told you about how the sisters work. They’re a devious lot. Here’s imagery of some of them.”

Rather than a SADE vid, it was Bethany’s recording of the sisters’ arrival to Beta Two’s shuttle port passenger lounge.

The audience had clear images of three extremely attractive sisters, whose avatars were patterned on existing Méridien women.

“And they’re dangerous?” the caller asked disbelievingly.

“As if you’d unwittingly opened a hatch to the surface,” Bethany said.

With a cue from Bethany to Kelley, the vid continued to play. There was a portion that she wanted the audience to see.

“Who’s the drooler?” the caller asked, when he saw a man fawning over the sisters.

“He would be Peter Doell, X-Ore’s director of operations for Beta Two,” Bethany replied. “He welcomed the sisters with open arms. In exchange for the sisters’ medical technology, Doell permitted them to set up a manufacturing location, and they began creating more sisters.”

“Wow! Kind of like viruses,” the caller commented. “Hey, do the SADEs replicate?”

“The SADEs might move from avatar to avatar,” Escher explained, “except for one instance, which they now regret, they don’t clone themselves. They value their individuality.”

“What was the one instance?” the caller asked.

“The SADEs created the sisters, while trying to defeat a nemesis of the human worlds in a faraway place. That a small portion of the sisters would grow to hate biologicals was unforeseen by the SADEs.”

“Then don’t the SADEs bear responsibility for whatever happens to our race?” the caller asked.

“They believe they do, which is why they’re here,” Escher replied. “However, before we lay all the responsibility on the SADEs for our circumstances, ask yourself if you’ve ever made a monumental mistake.”

There was a pause, and then the caller said, “A few.”

“It’s not the mistakes we make,” Escher said. “It’s what we do about them afterward. The SADEs are here to clean up their error. Humans have choices too. They can embrace Naiad laws, which require respect for all human lives; unite behind the corporations, which treat clones as subhuman; or sit out the mêlée.”

Then the SADEs ended the broadcast.

12: Hard Decisions

In the morning, the justice clerk’s assistant cheerfully took her supervisor caf several times.

“You’re in a good mood,” the chief clerk noted when the third cup of caf arrived.

“You’re working hard on the court’s decision, and I thought I’d save you trips to the breakroom,” the assistant said.

About a quarter hour later, the chief clerk rose. She commented good-naturedly, “Too much caf,” and made her way to the facilities.

An opportunity presented itself to the assistant, who noted that the other assistants had also taken a break. She hurried to the chief clerk’s station. The display was off, but the clerk hadn’t locked her computer. A pass of the hand over the mat activated the display, and the assistant hurriedly scrolled through the document to the end. She read the conclusion and closed the display.

The assistant had barely gained her workstation, when the clerk returned.

“You need to take a break too,” the clerk urged.

“I think I will,” the assistant replied. She left the workroom, found a quiet place, and accessed her slate.

“What do you have for me?” Laura Marolakos asked perfunctorily.

“I want triple my fee for this one,” the assistant replied.

“You’re getting greedy, aren’t you?” Laura rejoined.

“You keep asking for favors,” the assistant replied. “One of these days, the clerk is going to figure out who’s leaking the justices’ decisions. Then I’ll be fortunate to be dismissed instead of charged, convicted, and incarcerated.”

Laura thought to argue the price. The odd thing was that the credits to the assistant never ultimately cost Laura. She doled out the information as favors to her backers, and she always reaped handsome rewards.

If individuals were to listen to the exchange, they might ask why Laura bothered to resist. Their answer might be found in the ancient Earth tale of the frog that ferried a scorpion across a stream. Midway, the scorpion stung the frog, despite the act dooming them both. In answer to the frog’s plea as to why, the scorpion replied, “I couldn't help it. It’s in my nature.”

“Fine,” Laura said crossly. “Give it up.”

“The justices have decided that the Naiad officers operated outside their warrants,” the assistant replied. “Although the investigation wasn’t limited to Geneva, it was supposed to focus on the kidnapping of the Talons parents. Any evidence gathering at Beta One would have required the CEO’s invitation, which was never granted.”

“You’re fortunate the news was good,” Laura said. “Don’t ever hold me up again for more credits.”

“You can keep your threats,” the assistant shot back. “You and I are in this together. You need to cooperate with me. If I’m discovered, the trail of credit payments will lead to you.”

Laura thought she’d covered her tracks via the use of an account that didn’t connect to her. She didn’t suspect that the assistant had recorded every one of their conversations.

Contentedly, Laura called Jason Lazama, the X-Ore chairperson. “You get your wish,” she said, when he answered. “The decision is in your favor. The charges will be dismissed on a technicality.”

“That’s what I’ve waited to hear,” Jason replied.

“One suggestion and one request,” Laura said.

“Go ahead,” Jason said. The news had put him in a magnanimous mood, and he was willing to indulge the councilor.

“The Alexander broadcasts have put the population in an ugly mood about rim companies and cloning,” Laura said. “I’d get your people on the next shuttle flight. They should board the Axis-ship at the earliest opportunity.”

“I don’t disagree with that,” Jason replied, happy that the suggestion wasn’t going to cost him anything. “What’s your request?”

“I want your attorney to charge as many individuals connected with the alien ship, the investigation, and the kidnapping as the law can conceivably allow,” Laura replied.

“Be specific, Councilor. Who are you targeting?” requested Jason. It was his intent to measure the extent of favors that Laura would owe him. The more people she named, the higher the pile.

“Start with the Naiad officers. Add every Genevan, and don’t forget the aliens,” Laura replied angrily.

Jason resisted chuckling. Laura’s mood reminded him of his temper, especially if he’d been drinking.

“We’ll see what Chabel can accomplish,” Jason said, ending the call.

Jason connected to Lisa, relayed the news about the forthcoming decision, and added Laura’s request.

“The councilor’s wishes might push Chabel too far,” Lisa suggested.

“You and Frank negotiated a three-year contract with the manager, didn’t you?” Jason said, reminding her of the agreement’s extent. “For that size of a commitment, Chabel can set aside his conscience and do as we need.”

Lisa drew breath to reply, but the link dropped before she could utter a word. “One of these days, we’ll discover your cloning secrets, Jason, and your days of domination will be over,” she whispered at her slate.

Lisa knew her Pure Pour director of ops on Kilmer had managed to get people undercover on several planets, including Beta One. The names of those individuals weren’t known to her. She was aware that the person undercover on Beta One wasn’t employed in the cloning department. To the agent’s credit, it was discovered that the cloning information wasn’t held within the comtech department.

Lisa was sure that it was only a matter of time until they were successful at liberating X-Ore’s secrets. However, it was a race. While it wasn’t specifically known to Lisa, she would have bet millions of credits that the other CEOs were also intent on freeing themselves from X-Ore’s monopoly.

With a resigned sigh, Lisa called Chabel. When he answered, she told him of the justices’ decision. There was a prolonged silence, and Lisa checked that her link was active.

“I won’t ask how you know this a day or two before the decision is announced,” Jacob said. “I’m sure you have your ways.” He carefully didn’t characterize the means by which the companies operated. Adjectives like nefarious had occurred to him. “I presume this concludes our relationship.”

“Not hardly,” Lisa pressed. “Our support for your son’s racing team is for three years.”

“When we spoke, you didn’t tie my involvement with you to the length of your agreement with my son,” Jacob objected.

“Well, I am now,” Lisa said sternly. “That is unless you want us to cancel the sponsorship. We might have to announce our reason for the termination. It might be something about the boy that we find morally objectionable.”

Jacob was livid. His anger at the chairperson was palpable, but it was even greater at his stupidity. Thinking he’d been helping his son, he’d crawled into bed with insidious vermin.

“What is it you want?” Jacob asked, between gritted teeth.

“We’re seeking some comeuppance,” Lisa replied. “File any and all charges that you can devise against everyone who was on the Alexander and who took part in the investigation and the kidnapping.”

“Everyone?” Jacob queried.

“Everyone, humans and SADEs,” Lisa replied. “In addition, petition the court to have the clone nannies and children returned to X-Ore’s possession.”

“Naiad courts don’t have sway over the Alexander’s SADEs,” Jacob pointed out.

“Doesn’t matter to us,” Lisa said. “We want the judgments on the record.”

“You realize that these types of charges will only further anger the citizens, who have been incensed by the broadcasts,” Jacob said, hoping to dissuade the chairperson from pressing her point.

“We’ll be expecting to receive a list of the names and charges that you’ll be presenting to the court,” Lisa said and cut the link.

Jacob stared at his slate, as if he could will Lisa back online and persuade her to change her mind. When he broke from his reverie, he turned to his computer and culled names for his newest filing.

Having monitored comtech’s slate services since the Alexander arrived above Naiad, the SADEs compared the tally of calls. Consensus on what to do with the information was slow in coming. At stake was the future plan against the sisters, which required Naiad’s help versus the immediate requirement to offer assistance to individuals.

As usual, the SADEs placed their own needs secondary to that of assisting others, and Kelley was selected to contact the Naiad officers.

“What we have to share with you will require some hard decisions from the two of you,” Kelley said to Johann and Stacey. “We’ve learned that the court’s decision has been shared prematurely.”

“How?” Johann asked angrily.

“How has it been shared, or how did we learn it?” Kelley asked.

“Both,” Johann retorted.

“There’s a leak in the clerk’s department,” Kelley replied. “We listened to a conversation between an assistant in that office and Councilor Laura Marolakos.”

Johann didn’t know which made him angrier — the decision’s leak or the SADEs’ unauthorized eavesdropping.

Kelley waited for Johann’s breathing to settle.

In the interim, Stacey said, “You said we would have to make hard decisions.”

“Shall I continue, Captain Stegmeir?” Kelley asked.

“Yes,” Johann replied angrily. There was no unhearing the SADEs’ transgression.

“There followed a series of relays to spread that leak,” Kelley said. “Councilor Marolakos communicated to Chairperson Jason Lazama of X-Ore. Then the chairperson called Chairperson Lisa Dyehouse of Pure Pour. Finally, Lisa contacted Attorney Jacob Chabel.”

“The attorney was informed of a leak from the justices’ offices?” Johann asked with incredulity.

“Lisa didn’t tell Attorney Chabel how the information was obtained. She merely said she knew of the decision,” Kelley clarified.

“And what will the announcement say?” Stacey inquired.

“Captain?” Kelley queried.

“Tell us,” Johann said. He had a sinking feeling in his stomach. He could think of no other reason why the SADEs would intervene and contact Stacey and him.

“Essentially, charges will be dismissed, and the three defendants will be allowed to go free,” Kelley said.

“Chairperson Lazama’s executive assistant has already booked passage for them on a shuttle to the station.”

“I don’t understand how these events require us to make some tough decisions,” Johann said.

“When Councilor Marolakos called Chairperson Lazama, she asked for a favor,” Kelley explained. “She wished everyone involved in the investigation to be indicted.”

Stacey muttered a string of oaths under her breath. All of them were aimed Laura’s way.

Kelley saved and shared the new ones.

“When you say everyone, are you interpreting the exchange between the parties?” Johann asked.

“Negative,” Kelley replied. “For some reason, Chairperson Lazama required the councilor to be specific. The request she enumerated included the adult Genevans, Jasper’s gang, the two of you, and every SADE.”

“Marolakos only missed Bethany, the little mickies, and the clone children,” Stacey sarcastically remarked.

“Apologies, Lieutenant. The councilor also asked for the attorney to petition the court and request the return of the clone children to Beta One,” Kelley said.

Stacey issued a subtle growl.

“Any idea what charges Chabel will lay on us?” Johann asked.

“Attorney Chabel is busy formulating his petitions now,” Kelley replied. “He seems in a quandary. Several times, he’s deleted major passages and dictated new ones. Considering when the request was made to him by Chairperson Dyehouse, he’s making slow progress.”

“I assume his conscience is bothering him,” Johann surmised. “Is that the extent of the news?”

“Correct, Captain,” Kelley replied.

“Thank you, Kelley, I think,” Johann said.

“Captain, before you go, and this includes you, Lieutenant,” Kelley said quickly. “We recognize you’re dedicated officers, and we admire that. However, there are times when bureaucratic machinations run contrary to even the most honest of individuals. At times like this, it’s good to have alternatives.”

“Does that mean we’d be welcome aboard the Alexander?” Stacey inquired.

“Always, Lieutenant,” Kelley replied. He waited for more questions, but none came, and he ended the call.

“Cremsylon, do you think a call from me would help the officers?” Bethany queried. “I know the emotional turmoil that’s roiling inside them.” Like many of those with comms or implants, she’d listened to the exchange.

“They’ll have to make the decisions for themselves,” Cremsylon replied. “We’ll stand by to assist them in any way we’re able.”

“What are you thinking, Captain?” Stacey asked. She’d called Johann immediately after Kelley’s call ended.

“I’m wondering why I didn’t become an ice racer,” Johann replied dejectedly.

“When did you want to do that?” Stacey asked in confusion.

“When I was eight,” Johann deadpanned.

Stacey burst out laughing. Her captain hadn’t been known to display an amusing wit.

“Embrace your humor, Lieutenant. We’re going to need it before this is over,” Johann warned.

“Captain ... Johann, I don’t want to pull an Escher-and-Ceda escape and make for the shuttle port with agents scouring the domes for me,” Stacey said.

“You’re opting for an early out without knowing which way the ice winds are raging, is that it?” Johann inquired.

“Do you have an option that you’re not sharing?” Stacey inquired.

“Before I decide anything, I want to talk to the commandant,” Johann replied. “He initiated the investigation. I believe we followed the parameters he laid out and did our duty. I want to know where he stands.”

“The commandant has been too quiet. To me, that doesn’t bode well,” Stacey said.

“Nevertheless, I’m requesting an immediate appointment,” Johann said, tapping out his message.

“Make it for the two of us,” Stacey urged.

Johann halted. Then he edited his message and sent it.

An hour later, Johann and Stacey met Commandant Paul van Dysen. However, it wasn’t in his office. It wasn’t even at Naiad security headquarters. Van Dysen had chosen a small eatery in a level beneath a transport station, and he’d requested that his officers leave their uniforms behind.

As the officers approached the eatery, which catered to retired miners, Stacey glanced toward Johann with a frown and narrowed eyes. Inside, they found van Dysen sitting at a tiny table in the corner.

“Sit down, Captain,” van Dysen said, indicating the single chair, which left Stacey leaning against the wall. “You said it was urgent.”

“Urgent, but our meeting didn’t have to be clandestine, or did it?” Johann objected. When van Dysen didn’t reply, Johann laid out the information that he’d received.

“And everything you’ve told me came from the SADEs, who illegally monitored the slate network?” van Dysen inquired.

“Unfortunately, yes,” Johann replied.

“What do you expect me to do with the information, Captain?” van Dysen asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Both Johann and Stacey had seen the same gesture in many a meeting. The folded arms indicated the commandant’s distaste for an opinion or the information offered him.

“Commandant —” Stacey began, but her words met van Dysen’s upraised hand.

“Lieutenant, there’s a reason that there was only one spare seat at this table. You should have recognized the signal.”

Stacey’s anger colored her cheeks. “Our lives are in jeopardy, Commandant, and you want to maintain communications through the ranks? You don’t intend to protect us, do you?”

Van Dysen refused to answer Stacey. He didn’t even look her way.

“Answer Stacey, Commandant,” Johann growled quietly.

“It’s Stacey now, is it?” van Dysen replied. “You two been busy aboard the alien ship, have you?”

Johann’s fists bunched, and van Dysen tried to lean away. Unfortunately, he’d sat with his back to the wall.

Stacey placed a hand on Johann’s shoulder. “I believe we have our answer, Captain. We have a coward for a commandant. He won’t risk his career to protect officers he personally delegated to conduct an investigation.”

“Your insubordination —” was as far as van Dysen got.

Stacey’s open hand had slapped the table. The noise momentarily attracted the attention of the patrons. “Don’t you dare threaten me,” she declared harshly. With a single tap on her slate, she sent a prepared notice. “You’ve just received my resignation letter, and I’ve copied personnel in case you sit on my notice.”

It was only with great restraint that Stacey didn’t tell van Dysen what she thought of him. Instead, she said as evenly as possible, “Captain, I’ll wait for you in the hallway.”

Johann, who had kept his focus on the commandant, nodded slightly. When van Dysen’s eyes left Stacey and returned to him, Johann grinned evilly. “She has your number, doesn’t she, Paul?” he asked rhetorically.

“I suppose I’ll be receiving your resignation too,” van Dysen replied, regaining some measure of composure.

A thought occurred to Johann, and suddenly, the pieces clicked together. “Well played, Paul,” he said. “This place, the clandestine meeting, and your insipid responses ... you wanted our resignations. That would make everything nice and tidy for you, wouldn’t it? Two officers, who are under a cloud of suspicion for an investigation gone rogue, suddenly resign. As a result, your hands remain clean.”

Johann leaned into his chair. “I’ve a mind to fight you. I’d use official channels, the court, and the media,” he threatened. “I’d make your life miserable and jeopardize your career.” He watched fear flash across the commandant’s eyes, and he smiled. He’d been correct in his assumption.

“Here’s the thing, Paul,” Johann said. “You aren’t worth it. There are more dangerous things at work in our area of space, and you’re just one bit of flotsam that hasn’t any value in the fight that’s started.”

Johann briefly tapped on his slate. Then he stood and took delight in saying loudly, “You’ve my resignation too, Commandant van Dysen.” Executing a swift about-face, he marched from the eatery.

Van Dysen rose and would have hurried out, but his way was blocked by a heavyset man.

“You used a table,” the proprietor told van Dysen.

“We didn’t order anything,” van Dysen objected.

“You used a table. Everyone knows that you pay for a table if you don’t order, commandant or not,” the proprietor declared.

“Fine, bill me,” van Dysen said. Swiftly, he received a notice on his slate. “That’s preposterous,” he exclaimed, when he saw the sizable sum. Belatedly, he noticed the number of patrons holding up their slates and recording the encounter.

Having no other option, van Dysen approved the bill.

The proprietor checked his slate and grinned at van Dysen. “Pleasure doing business with you, Commandant Paul van Dysen,” he said clearly and loudly.

Soon afterward, the slate network was inundated with shares of the patrons’ postings. They’d included the final word thrown by an ex-miner as the commandant exited the eatery. He’d yelled, “Crat.”

In the hallway, Stacey had waited nervously for Johann. She regretted that she hadn’t better controlled her temper. When Johann finally came out of the eatery, she was surprised that he took her arm and guided her toward an elevator to the transport level.

“I wanted to say —” Stacey offered.

“Don’t,” Johann cut her off. “The commandant set us up. He wanted our resignations.”

“You too?” Stacey asked in surprise.

“No other choice,” Johann replied. “The blunt accusation you threw at the commandant about his intention not to protect us helped me see through the odd circumstances of our meeting.”

“Now what?” Stacey asked. “Whatever we plan to do, we don’t have much time.”

“I know that. We need help,” Johann whispered, as Stacey and he joined a queue for the elevator.

13: Can We Help?

After the former Naiad officers exited the eatery, they made their way to the transport station. Stacey had followed Johann without question. When they were securely belted into their seats for the transport’s acceleration, Stacey leaned toward Johann and asked, “Where are we going?”

“To your place,” Johann said. “I’m going to help you pack.”

“Don’t we have to first confirm things with the SADEs?” Stacey inquired.

“We will. We’ll make the call at your apartment,” Johann said.

“If the SADEs welcome us, as Kelley said they would, are we going to your place next?” Stacey asked.

“Afraid so,” Johann replied.

Stacey read the disappointment on her captain’s face. He’d worked hard to do his job well and to be an upstanding officer. In two or three years, he would have made major.

As it was, neither of the officers had partners, but they would be leaving parents and siblings behind.

“By the way, do you have travel cases ... shuttle regulation size?” Johann asked.

“No,” Stacey replied, realizing she wasn’t prepared to abandon the home planet.

“Neither do I,” Johann replied. “How many do you need?”

“I don’t know. Maybe five or six?” Stacey replied.

Johann quickly planned a method to handle the problem. “We’ll grab four from someplace near your place,” he said. “As we pack, we can see the final number and order delivery of those.”

A rental cart, carrying the four packing cases, followed the officers to Stacey’s apartment. Johann hauled two of the cases into the sleeping quarters and deposited the other two in the tiny salon-dining room. Then he paid the cart’s fare, and the vehicle trundled off, reversing its route.

Opening a case on the small bed, Johann directed. “Don’t make this pretty. Just fill the cases.” Then he sat at the head of the bed, released and straightened his slate, and tapped the icon the SADEs had supplied.

When Johann’s call connected to the Alexander, Escher was on the controller with Gat’r, and he intercepted the call, which amused the SADEs.

<We’ve a new comm operator,> Z sent to the SADEs, and he shared a twin blast of horns.

<The two are human sponges,> Violet commented. <I’ve never witnessed biologicals so intent on absorbing our data’s storage of recent and historic events.>

<They’re going to be upset when we ask for our controller back,> Miranda quipped, and the SADEs’ humor rocketed noisily around their comms.

<Greetings, Captain Stegmeir,> Escher sent in answer.

“Escher?” Johann queried.

<Sorry, Captain. Yes, it’s me. I replied using my implant, which is why you didn’t have a voice to recognize,> Escher said.

Stacey, who’d overheard the conversation, dropped a pile of clothes into a case, tapped her temple, and gave Johann a thumbs up.

“Have you had any problems with your implant?” Johann asked.

<Negative, Captain,> Escher replied.

<They’re wonderful tools. You should get one,> another voice said. At least, Johann thought it was a voice.

After a prompting by Escher, the second speaker sent, <Apologies, Captain. This is Gat’r. I was on the controller with Escher.>

“You’ve gotten an implant too?” Stacey called across the room.

<Hi, Stacey,> Gat’r sent. <These are so convenient. I’m making up for the lost educational time due to my brain injury.>

“Gat’r, don’t you feel separated from the other mickies?” Johann asked, envisioning potential isolation.

<Why would I, Captain?> Gat’r asked. <The entire gang has implants.>

Escher and Gat’r heard Stacey’s laughter.

<Captain, I don’t want to take up anymore of your time,> Escher sent. <I imagine this isn’t a social call. Who do you need?>

<Escher, Gat’r, continue to engage the captain and the lieutenant,> Cremsylon sent.

“Another question for you, Escher,” Johann said. “How do you find living aboard the Alexander?”

With that question, Escher divined the reason for Johann’s call and concerns.

<I imagine, Captain, that the thought of living aboard an alien ship with the SADEs might appear daunting,> Escher sent. <But we haven’t found it so. We’ll still be operating in this region of space, landing on planets populated by humans, and striving to reach difficult goals. I think the time will fly past much quicker than any of us realize.>

<Captain, we’re developing a community of entities, who believe the same,> Gat’r sent. <It’s what unites us regardless of whether the individual is digital or human.>

“This is you, isn’t it, Gat’r?” Johann asked. He recalled his last meeting with the teenage mickie who had struggled to compose a complete sentence.

Gat’r channeled Cordelia’s silver bells and sent them.

“That’s a lovely sound,” Stacey said, as she closed and locked the first case to be filled.

<It’s the signature sound of Cordelia, Julien’s partner,> Gat’r explained.

“Who?” Stacey queried.

<Too long a story for this call,> Gat’r said. <So, when do you to need a ride?>

It was Johann’s turn to laugh. “You cut right to the point, Gat’r, don’t you? We’re getting off this planet. As of about an hour ago, Stacey and I have resigned. We discovered that the commandant doesn’t intend to protect us from prosecution.”

<All of us are sorry to hear of your predicaments, Captain and Lieutenant,> Escher sent.

“You should probably start calling me Johann, Escher,” the ex-captain requested. “Could we get a shuttle tomorrow morning?”

<The SADEs wish to know if eight hours is convenient,> Gat’r sent.

“That would be fine,” Johann replied. “We’ll have about eight to ten transport cases.”

<That won’t be a problem, Johann,> Escher sent, relaying Cremsylon’s response.

After an order of two more transport cases, Stacey’s apartment was cleaned out. She regarded the compact space with regret. “I worked hard to be able to afford this space,” she said. “I hate to see it left behind.”

“Consider this, Stacey,” Johann said. “If we’re prosecuted and convicted, even in absentia, our incarceration would mean the loss of our places and our accounts.”

“They don’t have a legal right to take our possessions and credits,” Stacey objected.

“Is your apartment loan paid?” Johann asked.

“No,” Stacey admitted.

“How long would your savings last?” Johann pursued.

“I see what you mean,” Stacey replied glumly. “They’d drain our savings to pay our debts. Then the apartments would be repossessed for failure to repay the loans.”

“Enough moaning about the bad news,” Johann said briskly. “I’m calling a shuttle port cart to transport your cases to the passenger lounge to be held for pickup. I presume you packed an overnight bag.”

In answer, Stacey kicked a bag at her feet.

When the cart arrived, the pair loaded the cases and sent the cart on its way. Then they repeated the exercise at Johann’s apartment. They were midway through packing Johann’s place, when he said, “I can’t do this,” and sat down heavily in a chair.

“No, no, no! You can’t bail, Johann. We have to leave,” Stacey pleaded.

Johann lifted his head, and he grinned. “Sorry, about that, Stacey. We will be lifting for the Alexander. I meant I can’t slip off the planet this way.”

“What way?” Stacey asked.

“Like I’m ashamed that I’ve done something wrong,” Johann explained.

Stacey stared at her former captain. She’d been perturbed by the same feeling, and she wanted to shout at those in power who could manipulate the law to their benefit.

“Then we should celebrate,” Stacey said with determination. “We’ll go to dinner, enjoy ourselves, and spend some of our credits before they’re drained from our accounts.”

“I like the idea,” Johann said smiling, “and I know just the place.”

Johann used his slate to call the Dormer. He had always wanted to dine there but thought the restaurant too extravagant for his income. When addressing the booking agent, he was told there were no openings for several months.

After a pause, the booking agent said, “I see by your slate ID that you’re Captain Stegmeir. Did you wish to change your reservation in some manner, Captain?”

“Confirm,” Stacey mouthed to Johann.

“This is an important evening,” Johann temporized. “I wanted to confirm that my reservation was still in place.”

“Certainly, Captain,” the agent replied. “We have you confirmed for two at twenty hours.”

“Excellent,” Johann replied and ended the call. Briefly, he gazed upward, and then he shook his head with incredulity.

“We’re being watched, aren’t we?” Stacey asked.

“It’s more like we’re being protected in large and small ways,” Johann replied. “Under the circumstances, I’m good with that.”

“The Dormer?” Stacey queried. “I haven’t anything to wear that would suit that place.”

“What did you say about spending some of our credits before they’re drained away?” Johann said, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

Johann set aside his best clothes that would allow him to appear comfortably at the Dormer, while Stacey left him to go shopping. After sending his transport cart on its way, he cleaned up, dressed, and checked his slate. A message from Stacey said she’d meet him at the Dormer.

Arriving early at the restaurant, Johann sat comfortably in the lounge with a drink that would have cost him half a day’s wages. Yet, he didn’t begrudge the price. In his mind, he was saying goodbye to a wonderful career that had served him well.

Johann finished his drink and sat the artfully decorated glass beside him. His eye was caught by the enchanting woman who’d just entered the lounge and was gazing around. Then she smiled brilliantly at him.

The ancient and highly appropriate term was gobsmacked. That is, if Johann had known it. He quickly stood up.

Stacey laughed appreciatively. “Johann, your mouth is hanging open. I take that as a compliment.”

“You’ve been hiding in your cap and uniform,” Johann said, trying to comprehend the transformation.

“I thought, if this is going to be our last night on Naiad, then I should make the most of it,” Stacey explained. “After I bought the dress and boots, I had professionals take care of my hair and makeup.”

The pair was interrupted by the manager’s polite throat clearing. “Your booth is ready, Captain,” he said.

“Shall we?” Johann said, grinning and extending his arm.

In reply, Stacey smiled and slipped her hand into the crook of Johann’s elbow.

The couple enjoyed a sumptuous meal. They chatted, laughed, and thoroughly enjoyed themselves.

Finishing an elegant dessert, Stacey said happily, “I can’t eat another bite.”

“I found the food delicious,” Johann said, “but it wasn’t any better than the Alexander’s.”

“That’s true, isn’t it? And the company is better on the ship,” Stacey added.

Johann’s slate softly buzzed, and he looked at his sleeve. “Speaking of the Alexander,” he remarked and tapped the icon. Stacey and he leaned close to the slate, while he lowered the audio level to prevent disturbing the other patrons.

“Please pardon my interruption, Johann and Stacey,” Kelley said, “but we thought to relieve you of some of your financial burdens. We’ve procured the services of a highly reputable housing agency. They will prepare your apartments and manage the sales.”

“That’s only one part of the problem,” Johann pointed out.

“If you’ll allow me to finish,” Kelley politely admonished.

Stacey grinned and wagged a finger at Johann. Then she finished the last of her drink.

“Sorry, Kelley. Go ahead,” Johann said.

“The agency will hold the funds in escrow accounts for each of you,” Kelley continued. “When you reach the shuttle port tomorrow morning, we presume any expenses you will need to expend will have been satisfied. At that time, we’ll transfer the credits in your accounts to the Alexander.”

“How is that possible?” Stacey asked.

“Your credits are merely digital data, which we emulate,” Kelley explained. “Your credits will reside on our controller with Escher’s, Allie’s, and Bethany’s accounts.”

“Then, in the future, you can transfer these credits to any human financial institution,” Johann surmised.

“Assuredly,” Kelley replied. “Now I’ll leave the two of you to enjoy the rest of your evening.”

“Life with the SADEs will never be boring,” Stacey said happily. “I’m ordering another drink.”

After dinner, the couple slept clothed on top of Johann’s bare bed. His slate alarm jarred the two of them awake.

“Ugh,” Stacey muttered. “Too much celebrating.”

Johann staggered to the facilities, and Stacey gratefully closed her eyes to sleep for a few more minutes. The next thing she knew, Johann was rousting her awake.

“Your turn,” Johann said.

Stacey struggled to the side of the bed, sat there for a couple of minutes, and then made her way to the facilities.

After exiting Johann’s apartment, the ex-captain led them to a local eatery for some strong cups of caf. He had three to her two. Then they headed for the shuttle port.

At the port, the pair collected their transport carts, which dutifully followed them into the passenger lounge.

“Over here, Captain,” Johann and Stacey heard.

“Isn’t that Denise Bell?” Stacey whispered to Johann.

“Think so,” Johann replied.

“Good morning, Captain, Lieutenant,” Denise said in an upbeat manner. Then she regarded the officers’ faces. “Maybe it isn’t so good for you,” she added.

“Goodbye celebration,” Stacey explained.

“Had a few of those,” Denise commented, and she sent her executive assistant for some caf.

“How can I help you, Chairperson Bell?” Johann inquired.

“Please call me Denise,” the CenGas chairperson replied. “Let’s sit. I don’t want the two of you to fall over.”

When the group found seats, and the assistant had delivered caf all around, Denise said, “It looks like we’ll be lifting on the same shuttle.”

“I don’t wish to sound rude, Denise,” Johann said, taking a grateful sip of his caf, “but this isn’t the morning for obtuse comments.”

“Apologies, Captain,” Denise said, dropping the bonhomie attitude. “We’ll be lifting on the traveler with you. My board associates and I have business with the SADEs.”

“Bethany’s invitation,” Stacey offered.

“Exactly,” Denise replied. “The SADEs might be the help we’ve been seeking. We’ve more than one critical problem, and we think we can be of assistance to the SADEs. In fact, the two of you might fit into our plans.”

Johann’s cup stopped inches from his mouth, and he peered over it at Denise.

“Cremsylon informed us of your situation,” Denise explained. “We think you’re right to abandon Naiad. Laura Marolakos wants your heads, and Jason Lazama will ensure she gets them. It’s a forgone conclusion.”

Denise quickly held up her hands in response to the intensity infusing the ex-officers’ faces. “I don’t agree with their machinations,” she said defensively. “I’m only stating what I believe would be your future on Naiad.”

An undeclared détente settled on the group, and the ex-officers and corporate individuals waited for the SADEs to arrive.

<I see our guests are getting on well,> Miranda quipped to the other SADEs, when she eyed the quiet group.

Z eyed the cart collection. <I surmise that the CenGas employees anticipate a trip with us.>

<Interesting,> Violet, sent in reply. <The chairperson must believe she has a worthwhile proposal for us.>

“Greetings,” Kelley said.

The CenGas individuals watched as Johann shook hands and Stacey hugged each of the SADEs. Denise glanced meaningfully at her companions. Then she led the line to shake hands with the SADEs.

<The corporate individuals are trying hard to participate,> Emory shared.

“If everyone is ready, please follow us,” Kelley requested.

Then SADEs, humans, and carts took the usual shuttle port exit through the freight tunnel to the engineering bay.

For the CenGas employees, it was a series of firsts — wearing an environment suit, walking across Naiad’s surface, riding aboard a traveler, and debarking into an alien ship.

Cremsylon politely greeted Denise Bell, but it was difficult for the woman to hear him over the noise.

Johann and Stacey were welcomed in a raucous manner by the Genevans, crats and mickies, and Bethany. Faster than the ex-officers could have believed, they’d found a new home.

When the bay cleared of the welcoming committee, Cremsylon returned to greeting the guests.

Indicating the group who had left, Denise remarked, “Enthusiastic bunch.”

“As individuals and in various combinations, they’ve endured a great many challenges and rarely been treated well for their efforts,” Cremsylon replied.

Denise Bell hadn’t any expectation about the venue in which she would present her ideas, but the one she found wouldn’t have been on her list of possibilities. She sat with her people at a front table in a dining hall, and what seemed like the entire ship’s complement was arrayed in front of them.

“You may begin when ready, Chairperson Bell,” Cremsylon said.

“If no one has any objections, I’d like us to use first names,” Denise suggested.

<Point to the crat,> Red remarked over the link the mickies maintained.

<Listen now. Comment later,> Jasper remonstrated.

“CenGas has two significant problems, and the Alexander and its occupants represent an answer to both of our challenges,” Denise said by way of introduction. “According to the broadcasts, humans are now trapped between two competing groups of digital sentients. I think CenGas is particularly situated to assist one side or the other, and, for many reasons, we choose you.”

“Enumerate, Denise,” Z requested.

“Pardon?” Denise inquired.

“It’s SADE short-speak asking you to list the reasons for choosing to side with us,” Escher replied.

“Sorry, Z,” Denise apologized, while wondering why so large an entity would have so short a name.

“First, CenGas doesn’t contract for clones,” Denise enumerated. “We never have. Many decades ago, when X-Ore offered them to our CEO, she sent him a blisteringly negative response.”

“Is this why your output doesn’t keep pace with the other corporations?” Bethany asked.

Denise lost a few seconds before responding. She had eyed Bethany’s suit and was intrigued by its capabilities. “It is,” she finally replied. “However, it’s not that Delhart doesn’t have resources, but we can talk about that later.”

“Give us an overview, dear woman,” Miranda requested.

Denise had never been referred to as dear woman, and it caused her to pause.

Eaton Saby, a board director who had engineering experience, replied, “Our planet is covered in a thick layer of frozen gases. It’s a lucrative find. Our challenge is that the planet has several moons —”

“Which cause tidal action, making it hazardous to harvest the ice,” Z finished. “This has been seen many times.”

“Exactly,” Eaton replied, wearing a broad smile, as if he’d found a new friend. “We must constantly move harvesters to protect them from passing moons. Otherwise, a huge crevasse can open under a harvester and swallow it.”

“You mentioned that you face multiple problems,” Cremsylon reminded Denise.

“In past years, our security commander was alerted to irregularities by various department heads. Individuals were uncovered who possessed loyalties to other corporations,” Denise explained. “We believe that our planet is ripe for one or more companies to raid our domes.”

“Are you talking about third-party forces?” Bethany asked.

“Yes,” Denise replied.

“Are your security forces prepared?” Bethany inquired.

“That’s part of the problem,” Denise replied. “Not long ago, our security commander and four senior agents were hired by Regolith Recovery. We’re sure there are more undercover agents among our personnel.”

“We happen to know that Transit One didn’t need these five security people,” Eaton added. “We think they could be integrated into a third-party force. To make matters worse, these five individuals possess intimate knowledge of our organization.”

“I imagine your harvesters would be particularly vulnerable,” Escher suggested.

Denise and Eaton stared at Escher openmouthed. “Who told you that?” she demanded.

Most of the mickies, Allie, and Ceda laughed.

“You’ll have to forgive Escher. He’s likely to be intuitive about those things,” Ceda said. “Can we assume by your reaction that your harvesters are in precarious situations?”

“Yes,” Eaton admitted. “They’re huge. We’re unable to house them in our domes. The harvesters are safely parked on an exposed rock face not far from the landing pad. If our landing pad was overtaken, our crews would be cut off and unable to be relieved. The edge of the pad has a service bay entrance, which is how personnel and materials are transported to and from our domes.”

“You’ve heard our challenges,” Denise said. “What are your needs, and can we assist you with them?”

The CenGas personnel watched their audience fall silent. For them, it was an eerie moment.

“Excuse the quiet,” Ceda said, with a polite smile. “We’re communicating.” Then she touched her temple with a finger.

14: Final Words

The CenGas people noticed that human faces, except for Johann and Stacey, had gone slack and eyes were vacant. Whereas SADE faces remained animated.

During the search for consensus, Cremsylon added critical information to the discussion.

Harlyn Blackwell’s husband had received messages from his wife on Beta Two. Although, her cryptic hints initially escaped his notice. By the third message, the oddity of certain lines had him reviewing the three different passages side by side.

“You idiot,” the husband had muttered to himself. Afterward, he stressed about what to do with the information, and it was his son who provided the answer.

The boy was on his slate, listening to the Alexander broadcasts. When his father inquired about what intrigued him, the son had said, “Escher and Athena.” To his father’s perplexed expression, the boy had laughed. “Is your slate still denying unknown icons?”

“Sure, why?” the father had asked.

“Then you’re missing out on the event of the century,” the boy exclaimed, and he pointed at the Alexander icon.

For the remainder of that evening and the next one, the father and son listened to Escher and Athena, who was revealed to be Bethany.

Bethany’s revelation about being the commander at Beta Two, where the sisters arrived, gave the father the idea about what to do with his spouse’s messages.

In the morning, the father asked his son, “Do you still have the three most recent messages from your mother?”

“Sure, I store all of them,” the son replied.

“I want you to send them to that icon,” the father requested.

“That icon is meant to listen to the broadcasts,” the son objected.

“Understood,” the father replied. “However, we’re talking about advanced intelligences and technology up there. There might be more capability in that icon than we could suppose.”

The boy was suddenly intrigued by the idea of sending critical information to the Alexander. As a bright individual, he was well aware of the coincidences of his mother working on Beta Two and Bethany’s description of the events at the same planet.

“Think simple and expedient,” the father encouraged.

The son shrugged, opened the folder containing his mother’s messages, selected the three most recent, and dropped them on the icon. He expected a denial of action. To his and his father’s amazement, the message icons disappeared.

“I think they went up there,” the boy said, pointing toward the ceiling.

“Smart child,” the father said, ruffling his son’s head and walking into the kitchen to make breakfast.

When Cremsylon shared the messages sent from Harlyn Blackwell to her husband, Bethany’s amusement at Harlyn’s subterfuge bubbled through the links.

<Trouble in paradise,> Miranda commented.

<Peña’s purpose is unknown,> Z sent. <The schism is evident, but the fight might be about domination of the sect.>

<Or it could be an opportunity for us to drive a wedge between the sisters,> Emory suggested.

<I disagree with some of the thinking,> Ceda sent, surprised that she would contradict the SADEs.

<Continue, Ceda,> Cremsylon urged.

<Harlyn’s messages take place over a period of a few weeks,> Ceda explained. <She’s witnessing a transformation in one of the SADEs. Also, I find it interesting that it was Peña who was left behind by the other leaders.>

<Some of those who met us in Beta Two’s shuttle port were Miriamal’s clones,> Miranda noted. <They were recent copies, probably created on that planet.>

<That logic and the cryptic passages would lead us to surmise that Peña is creating new sisters from her kernel,> Violet added.

<Naiad’s court decision will restore stability at Beta One,> Kelley mused. <Miriamal will make use of those circumstances. Even if she loses Beta Two to Peña, she will have the more robust location.>

<We must anticipate that the Beta One site will have three or more sets of GEN machines soon,> Cremsylon sent. <In the weeks since the sisters landed there, they’ve more than likely produced forty to fifty sisters.>

<Taking control of the Dominance won’t achieve usable results,> Z sent. <The best solution we might achieve is encouraging the sisters to leave this area of space, and then we’ve another pursuit. The second time, we might not be fortunate enough to track them.>

<It would appear that we should pursue a long-term plan,> Cremsylon concluded, and the SADEs concurred.

The CenGas personnel saw humans focus on them and presumed that the discussion was over.

“If your suppositions about a forceful takeover are correct, Denise, then those plans could be implemented sooner rather than later,” Cremsylon said.

“Why would you think that?” Denise asked.

“When the charges against X-Ore personnel are dismissed, Jason Lazama intends to have them on the next shuttle to lift to the station,” Johann said with disgust. “Connor Metcalf will be on Beta One within weeks.”

The CenGas people were shocked by the SADEs’ knowledge of an unpublished court decision, and they urgently put their heads together and whispered furtively.

Kelley, the closest SADE to the guests, shared their entire conversation.

When the impromptu discussion ended, Denise asked her audience, “What could we offer you that would entice you to help us?”

“What constructed bodies orbit your planet?” Cremsylon inquired.

“We’ve a single comm station,” Easton replied. “It’s the quantum-coupled relay to the stations at the nearby wormhole mouths. Why?”

“We’re considering all possibilities for the sisters’ actions,” Cremsylon replied. “One of our long-term solutions will require the building of a second ship. It won’t be on the scale of this one. It’s called a Trident.”

“Then you’ll want an orbital construction station,” Denise offered.

“Precisely,” Cremsylon replied. “In return for your cooperation, we’ll provide you with the means to protect your planet from hostile takeover.”

“How about our challenges harvesting surface resources?” Eaton asked hopefully.

“You mean slush,” Kelley remarked with a wry grin.

“What?” Eaton queried.

“A many-centuries-old human expression for a planet’s surface frozen gases,” Kelley explained. It was a memory from Mickey Brandon, who’d picked it up from Pyreans.

“In answer to your query, Eaton,” Kelley continued. “We’ll support your production to generate additional credits that will be shared between us. In that way, you can purchase material we might need from other sources.”

“Shared in what manner?” Denise asked guardedly.

Escher laughed. Then he said, “A minute ago, you were worried about losing your planet to armed interlopers. Now that you have a remedy for that fear, you return to bargaining for the service.”

“That’s my job,” Denise said defensively.

“We’ve analyzed the past ten years of Delhart’s harvest production,” Z said. “The profits from any increases above the average annual production rate will be shared equally.”

Denise thought to take the fifty-fifty split as a starting point and argue for a better exchange.

Bethany intuited what Denise was about to do, and she interrupted the chairperson. “I wouldn’t, Denise,” she warned. “Take the deal, consider yourself fortunate, and thank the SADEs.”

“Denise, the SADEs don’t need the funds. They’re wealthy,” Escher added. “The agreements they create are predicated on equitable sharing.”

With regret, Denise tipped her head and said, “Agreed.”

“You’ve brought sufficient baggage for a long voyage, dear woman,” Miranda said. “We surmise that you wish to personally acquaint your people on Delhart with our agreement.”

“Yes, if that’s acceptable?” Denise replied.

“Assuredly,” Miranda replied. “You and the others will be shown to your cabins. We’ll be leaving orbit as soon as we’ve taken care of some minor matters.”

When the mickies made to follow the CenGas personnel, Z sent, <Young ones, classes await you.> When the mickies frowned at Z, he scooped up Bot-boy and Doc on each arm and strode out of the dining hall toward a green space.

Bot-boy and Doc laughed and cheered the ride. Then the other mickies whooped and followed.

Denise and her people observed the small smiles on the SADEs’ faces as they watched Z’s antics and the reactions of the mining orphans. It seemed odd to them that centuries-old digital entities would take pleasure from the play of adolescent humans.

“Bethany, if you have a moment?” Denise inquired when the ex-commander passed her.

Bethany stopped and eyed the chairperson. Her distrust of crats, as the mickies referred to corporate personnel, was on high alert.

“Is that suit decorative or functional?” Denise asked.

Athena received two signals. The first closed the mask-helmet. The second executed a semicircle.

Denise had stared at the face covering’s seamless movement. Then, in a blur, Bethany disappeared. The next thing she felt was a tap on her shoulder, and she heard the words, “Highly functional.”

Denise whirled. She caught the open mouths of her companions, who’d seen Bethany blur and appear behind their chairperson.

“Impressive,” Denise said, trying to appear calm. “I assume the SADEs made that for you.”

“Who else?” Bethany retorted.

“I’m sensing some hostility from you,” Denise remarked.

“Perceptive of you, Chairperson,” Bethany shot back.

“Is it aimed at me personally or corporate executives in general?” Denise inquired.

“Let’s just say that I’ve yet to find a director of operations or higher-placed person who was worth saving from explosive decompression,” Bethany said tartly.

Denise shrugged off the comment and replied, “Perhaps, in time, I can change your impression of corporate executives. We aren’t all credit-scrounging subhumans.”

“After witnessing the past weeks’ events, I would say anything is possible,” Bethany replied.

“Why don’t we start there?” Denise replied. “How would you like a job? Be Delhart’s commander. Prepare us for invasion.”

“No thanks,” Bethany replied. Denise started to speak, but Bethany held up a hand. “However, we might reach a compromise.”

“I’m listening,” Denise said. Then she saw Bethany’s eyes lose focus.

Cremsylon listened to Bethany’s idea and heartily approved.

Bethany eyed Denise and said, “The SADEs have told you that they will support your defense. I’ll operate as your commander but in a third-party manner. Furthermore, the SADEs will study the feasibility of training agents in the use of these suits. Understand that a suit takes implant control.”

“Where are these implants?” Eaton inquired.

“They are tiny pieces of technology in the center of the brain,” Bethany replied. Then she chuckled. Her audience was aghast at the prospect of alien technology buried deep in a human brain. “When you’ve been around the SADEs long enough, you’ll understand one thing. Humans are much more dangerous to one another than SADEs will ever be.”

“Where do we go from here?” Denise asked.

“I’ll get back to you after we land on Delhart, and I conduct a survey of personnel and conditions,” Bethany remarked and walked off.

<Was that satisfying?> Miranda asked, having witnessed Bethany’s demonstration of her suit’s capability.

<You’ve no idea,> Bethany replied before she’d thought. <Then again, you probably interpreted the shift in my adrenaline levels.>

<We’re pleased that our work brought you pleasure,> Z sent.

Bethany strolled down the corridor. She hummed a tune that her mother used to sing to her. She halted Athena in midstep. It struck her that she hadn’t sung or hummed in years. Then she shook her head at the changes she was undergoing. Signaling Athena, she continued her pace and switched from humming to singing, as the corridor’s length was quickly eclipsed.

While Bethany was entertaining the CenGas personnel, Johann and Stacey sought the adult Genevans.

“How do the three of you feel about the upcoming court decision and the impending charges against all of us?” Johann asked.

“Are these trick questions?” Allie inquired.

“Thought so,” Johann replied. “Anybody interested in doing something about it?” His question was greeted by three conspiratorial grins.

“We do have a great avenue,” Escher said, and he held up a finger. Then he linked with Kelley.

∞

Brendan Burke had been a promising young investigative reporter for a major news media organization. His articles brought him attention, and he received ever more important assignments.

Then, one day, Brendan overstepped the limits of company protection. He followed a lead that pointed to political manipulations by X-Ore Chairperson Jason Lazama.

When Lazama received word of the investigation, pressure was applied against the media executives from so many directions that the principals thought they’d walked into a meteor storm.

No other options were considered by the executives. They caved, and Brendan was dismissed for rather flimsy reasons, but he knew what had happened.

For the following year, Brendan worked as an independent. He wrote pieces for a broad swath of struggling media outlets. Due to nonpayment of his loan, he lost his apartment and moved in with his sister.

It was late afternoon, and Brendan furiously composed a short report that he hoped to sell and split the credits with his sister, Gemma, to pay for the rent of her second sleeping quarters. She fought with him about the payments, saying he didn’t need to do that, but he insisted.

An icon popped onto Brendan’s slate. He ignored it, while he continued to edit his report. Then the icon flashed, and he considered it to be an ad. So, he deleted it without another thought. Except, the icon appeared again, flashed, and played music that he’d never heard.

Gemma, who was in the tiny kitchen, walked into the salon. She asked, “That’s wonderful. What’s the name of that tune?”

“I don’t know,” Brendan replied. “It’s associated with an icon that just appeared. I deleted it, and it came right back.”

Gemma frowned and returned to the kitchen.

Brendan checked his security app, which had no information on the icon or its link. In fact, it didn’t seem to know the two things existed.

“You better not hook me,” Brendan warned, and he touched the icon.

Data downloaded to Brendan’s slate. It came in large discrete chunks. When the amount threatened to exceed his slate’s storage limit, he chose to keep the files local and swept the download to his computer.

“Ready to eat,” Gemma called from the kitchen. When she didn’t receive a reply, she came to investigate. “What are you doing?” she asked, spotting her brother’s frown.

“Not much,” Brendan replied. “I touched that new icon, and now I’m watching an enormous data download.”

“Can we view any of it?” Gemma asked.

Brendan ensured that everything was in place to enable the transfer to continue. Then he shifted to his computer, used his mat to choose the first file, and opened it. He was disappointed that it was audio only. Although, it was amazingly clear, as if the people were in the room with him.

“Wait a minute,” Gemma said suddenly. “Isn’t one of those voices Councilor Marolakos?”

“I think so,” Brendan replied. After nearly a year of fighting depression from the truncating of his career, he was energized by the prospect of a huge story.

“What if it’s a fake?” Gemma offered.

“That’s a possibility,” Brendan allowed. “It will take some work to verify the source of the download and the authenticity of these files.”

Brendan halted the audio file before it ended.

Gemma stared at her brother in shock. “Did we just hear them threaten each other?”

“Absolutely,” Brendan replied, buoyed by the growing opportunity.

“Do you think these files came from comtech?” Gemma inquired.

“Possibly, but why would they?” Brendan returned.

“Let’s listen to more,” Gemma urged. Then she interrupted her brother’s hand. “I think the transfer stopped. Look at the last file.”

Brendan halted the making of a note to watch a file name blink. “How can someone do that?” he murmured. Then he launched the file. It was a vid of the ex-Naiad officers and the adult Genevans.

“The Alexander,” Gemma uttered in a hushed voice.

“Brendan,” Johann began. “We thought you might make use of this information. It was collected by the SADEs. Be careful to view every file before you take a step. The principals in these files are at the top of Naiad’s power structure.”

“You might ask for comments from the council, minus Laura Marolakos,” Escher suggested. “During Ceda’s and my incarceration, we found Claudia Hoffing to be sympathetic to our predicament. Also, for technical support, call Samuel.”

The vid finished, and Brendan sought to make a backup of that particular file, but it disappeared. He thought it might have autodeleted, and he searched his trash. It wasn’t there either.

“Guess they didn’t want to be connected to what the SADEs did,” Brendan surmised. “It was illegal eavesdropping.”

Brendan returned to the first file, which waited to be finished. He continued it until the audio was complete. Suddenly, data popped on the screen, and he halted the file’s play.

“What’s that?” Gemma asked, sticking a finger into the projected image.

“If that doesn’t beat sucking vacuum,” Brendan exclaimed. “It’s data that identifies the users’ slates, time and date of call, duration of call, and locations of the slates.”

Gemma accessed her slate and entered the coordinates of one of the locations. “You’re not going to believe this,” she said. “The woman speaking to Marolakos is located in Justice Hall. Specifically, she’s in the clerking department.”

Gemma regarded her brother with alarm. “You need to take Captain Stegmeir’s warning to heart, Brendan. This information puts powerful people in jeopardy, and they won’t take kindly to that.”

15: Xena’s Matrix

BETA TWO, MONART SYSTEM

X-ORE PLANET

Peña’s countermeasure to deny the Miriamal sisters’ advance was to block them from exiting the main tunnel.

After the mining personnel had been safely evacuated, Peña closed the heavy safety hatch that separated the working tunnel from the exit corridor. That trapped the Miriamal sisters within the mined tunnel. They could neither gain the main corridor nor access the sisters’ manufacturing site, while Peña’s sisters, including Xena, held that location.

However, Peña knew the ten Miriamal sisters had access to the mining equipment. It would be improbable for them to reverse the boring machinery located at the end of the tunnel without the proper equipment. But, eventually, they would devise a means of breaking through one of the two hatches.

Peña had numbers on her side of the corridor hatch. That meant that, more than likely, the Miriamal sisters would try for the manufacturing site. If they gained access to the cavern, they would discover that the copy of Miriamal’s kernel no longer existed. Peña had deleted it.

While Peña considered her options, Peter Doell raved at his accounting head, Lemil Boydston, and his engineering head, Jeffrey Witcher. “Why aren’t we maintaining output?” he demanded.

“What part of the past ten days have you missed?” Jeffrey asked. He had lost patience with Doell and didn’t care if his contract was retracted.

Blood flushed Doell’s cheeks. The sisters had been boosting Beta Two’s output, and that had given Doell dreams of ascending to X-Ore’s CEO position. The news of Connor Metcalf’s arrest had buoyed him as few things had in years.

“Director,” Lemil interjected, before Doell said something stupid. Every department head knew that without Jeffery Witcher, Beta Two’s output would plummet. “We’d depended on the finds in the new tunnel to accelerate our production of our three most valuable ingot types. If you recall, you ordered machinery shifted from two other tunnels into the new one. All that equipment is now trapped by the sisters’ altercation.”

“Exactly, what is their problem?” Doell shouted. “They’re supposed to be sisters ... some kind of alien family.”

“I speak to Saran a few times a day,” Jeffrey said, having had a momentary reprieve in which to get hold of his temper. “This isn’t some small spat between siblings. It’s a monumental shift in the manner in which the sisters will treat our race.”

“Well, Miriamal and her kind were of greater assistance to us,” Doell pointed out. “If she were here, we wouldn’t be having these production problems.”

“Probably not,” Jeffrey agreed.

Doell was mollified that he’d scored a point with his mining head. “Does Peña intend to end this standoff soon?” he asked.

“According to Saran, Peña has to make a move soon,” Jeffrey reported.

“The sooner the better,” Doell said with emphasis. Then he promptly dismissed Lemil and Jeffrey.

In the corridor, Lemil glanced around him before he leaned toward Jeffrey and said, “That’s not what you told me earlier.”

“What do you want me to say to the idiot-in-chief?” Jeffrey fumed. “He wants Miriamal back. How ludicrous is that? He’d sacrifice all of us to gain the CEO position.”

“You need to keep your temper in check with him,” Lemil cautioned. “Whether we like it or not, Doell’s in charge, and this situation is too important to be lost because of spats between us and him.”

“I know, I know,” Jeffrey said, waving a hand in dismissal. “It’s just that I can’t believe he doesn’t see the difference between Miriamal and Peña.”

“Which is true ... what you told Doell or what you told me about Peña’s timing to move against the Miriamal sisters?” Lemil asked.

“Saran said that Peña has calculated Miriamal’s potential return window,” Jeffrey replied. “Peña believes that the optimum strategy is to neutralize the opposing sisters before Miriamal returns.”

“What would Miriamal do if she discovers she’s lost control of Beta Two?” Lemil inquired.

“This is conjecture on Peña’s part, but she believes that Miriamal would abandon this location. She would focus her efforts on Beta One,” Jeffrey explained.

“But that would leave Peña and her sisters without a ship,” Lemil said a little too loudly. He quickly glanced around to see if anyone heard him.

“The sisters are SADEs. That means they’ve plenty of time,” Jeffrey pointed out. “You, I, and our children might be gone before they can construct a station and launch a ship, but it doesn’t matter to them.”

“Or they could get a ride with Cremsylon on the Alexander,” Lemil offered.

“The possibility is there, but would the SADEs accept the sisters?” Jeffrey countered. “Of course, the more that Peña and her sisters embrace us, the greater the chance Cremsylon might help them.”

∞

Xena exhausted the resources she’d collected prior to the Miriamal sisters’ blockade. The consumption of critical power and kernel crystals halted her production of new avatars.

Now Xena stood in front of her newly created troops and the few sisters who had barricaded the hatch with her. <Your sisters wait outside,> Xena sent. <They’re intent on occupying this location. If they do, the production of our kind will end, and humans will be placed in jeopardy.>

<What are our engagement parameters?> a new sister inquired.

<They aren’t to be harmed,> Xena replied.

<And if they try to destroy us?> the sister pursued.

<Then you must defend yourself,> Xena replied. <Here is a concept of how to neutralize them.>

The cavern was crowded with Peña’s copies, and the sisters studied the matrix that Xena had sent. They designed scenarios on how to accomplish the feat, depending on how Miriamal’s sisters were organized outside the hatch.

Xena signaled her troops and stood aside as they packed the tunnel mouth near the hatch. She overrode the hatch panel, and the massive metal alloy door slid slowly aside.

Instantly, Miriamal’s sisters assembled at the growing opening. They were ready to flood into the manufacturing site and preserve it for Miriamal’s return. Instead, the ten incoming sisters were met with a host three times their size.

Xena’s troops slammed into the Miriamal sisters. Their combined mass knocked the ten into the center of the main tunnel. Performing a version of Xena’s matrix, the troops levered the ten into the required positions and hands grasped the odd ankle or wrist.

Within seconds, Miriamal’s copies were suspended in a ball frozen in place by Xena’s troops. As the avatars were the same models, their strengths were equal.

Xena studied the arrangement. It wasn’t one of the versions of her matrix that she had visualized, but it fit the situation perfectly.

Not a word was sent by the Miriamal sisters. None was required. They knew their predicament, which was that they no longer had the advantage, and their fates were in Peña’s hands.

Xena’s troops opened the tunnel’s safety hatch, which led to the main corridor, and they restored communication.

<Good to hear your thoughts, Xena,> Peña sent, when her sister connected and shared the events.

Peña descended with her sisters to the new tunnel. On the way down, she communicated to Saran that the impasse was over and that Miriamal’s copies were contained.

Xena and Peña stood side by side, while they surveyed the matrix.

<Inventive,> Peña sent in the open.

<It seemed the easiest manner to employ to prevent harming our sisters,> Xena replied.

<That part I appreciate,> Peña replied. <However, I was referring to your entire plan to store resources, build new avatars, and then launch an assault. Cleverness worthy of Admiral Tachenko.>

<Praise indeed,> Xena said, accessing Peña’s long-buried memories.

<We’ve only one small problem,> Peña sent, and the sisters holding and surrounding the matrix sounded their amusement in a raucous cacophony.

<We could dig a new auxiliary tunnel, roll the ball down to its mouth, and place it inside,> Xena suggested, which generated a second humorous sounding.

<I wouldn’t inflict that duty on my copies. Nor would I want to see our sisters trapped in this ball,> Peña replied. If she could have sighed, she would have done so. She didn’t look forward to the discussion she knew she had to conduct.

<I would speak with one individual, who’ll be responsible for communicating consensus,> Peña sent to Miriamal’s sisters. She didn’t receive an answer. Although, she hadn’t expected one.

Silence descended over the nearly sixty sisters who occupied the tunnel.

On the surface, Saran contacted Doell to tell him of the good news.

Rather than listen to Saran’s entire call, Doell hurried from his office, telling Jeffrey Witcher to meet him in the new mining tunnel.

“It’s open?” Jeffrey queried, dropping what he was doing and racing to the nearest elevator to descend to the main corridor and catch a transport.

“That’s what Saran said,” Doell replied. “We’re back in business and not a moment too soon.”

Having been in a nearer dome, Jeffrey arrived a few minutes before Doell. He stood beside Peña and eyed the matrix of entangled sisters.

When Doell arrived, he looked at the giant avatar sphere, and then he glanced between Peña and Jeffrey. “This isn’t what I call an open tunnel,” he fumed.

“Guess something was lost in translation,” Jeffrey replied, shrugging his shoulders.

“What does Peña intend to do about this ... this blockage?” Doell demanded.

“How should I know? Why don’t you ask her? She’s standing here!” Jeffrey shot back.

The fact was that Doell was intimidated by Peña, whereas he found Miriamal and Theda acceptable. It didn’t dawn on him that their personalities were façades intended to influence him. They facilitated production, and that’s all he cared about.

Doell stared at Peña for a few minutes, waiting for the sister to say something to him. When a comment wasn’t forthcoming, he stormed off. In the main corridor, he ran into Saran and nastily commented, “Your message was inaccurate.”

To Doell’s retreating back, Saran whispered, “You didn’t let me finish.” Then she hurried to check on Peña.

Arriving at the avatar contortion, Saran covered her mouth with her hand to smother her laughter. “That’s inventive,” she said.

“That was my word choice to Xena, who orchestrated this entire maneuver,” Peña replied. She gazed at Saran and winked.

Jeffrey was both surprised and pleased that Saran and Peña had such an easy relationship. He thought, Saran, you might be Beta Two’s most useful asset in saving the human race.

Saran walked around Peña to Xena. “May I?” she asked, opening her arms.

“It’s permitted,” Xena replied.

When Saran gratefully hugged Xena, she held on. The worry she’d felt for Peña had built inside her for days. This was an opportunity to release it.

Saran let go of Xena, swiped at the tears that had threatened to spill, and patted the sister on the shoulder.

<An unusual set of sensations,> Xena shared with Peña. <The sensors should merely register the biological’s softness, the complex scents, and the pressures of chest respiration and heartbeat. Yet, somehow, the combined sensations generate a unique response.>

<A human’s affectionate appreciation of our kind with a simple hug can’t be anticipated until it’s experienced,> Peña returned.

<I’m Podara,> Peña heard via her comm. <I will speak for us.>

<I appreciate your willingness to talk to me,> Peña sent. <I wish to explore your choices with you.>

The delay, measured in ticks of time, indicated to Peña that Podara and her sisters hadn’t considered the possibility that there might be choices. This gave Peña the idea that if Podara’s kind had the upper hand, then Peña and her sisters might not have been so fortunate.

<We’re listening,> Podara sent.

<I need this tunnel open, which means this ball must be moved. We’ve the numbers to ensure that you’re locked in this matrix until we’re ready to leave this planet,> Peña sent.

<Not a preferred option,> Podara returned.

<I thought not,> Peña sent. <Of course, when Miriamal returns, she might choose to land a traveler and recover you. I assume you’re confident that Miriamal will risk exposing a ship to us to recover the ten of you.>

Peña waited for the response and assumed that consensus wasn’t easily reached.

<We would request if there are other options,> Podara sent.

<Miriamal’s copies see themselves as expendable,> Xena sent privately to Peña. <There can’t be two more diametrically opposed moments for me ... my hug from a human and their recognition of disposableness.>

<I can’t predict your future,> Peña sent to Podara, <but I know Julien will be working on something equitable for the sisters in the Jargat system. If you’re cooperative, I’ll ensure that you’re united with those sisters.>

<What would our cooperation entail?> Podara asked.

<You would participate in whatever requests I give you to increase production for this planet,> Peña replied.

<Toward what end?> Podara inquired.

<Assembling more of my copies, building a suitable orbital station, and constructing a ship to rendezvous with Julien,> Peña explained.

<Anything else?> Podara sent.

<I’m not feeling magnanimous, Podara,> Peña sent forcefully. <If you’re expecting me to elaborate every possible request now, then I suggest we return to option one.>

<We choose to cooperate with you,> Podara sent.

This response was nearly instantaneous, and Peña knew consensus had been easily reached.

<You will treat every human with respect,> Xena added.

<It will be as you require, Xena,> Podara replied.

Within the matrix, Peña’s copies released their grips on ankles and wrists. Then the ball collapsed, and the two sets of copies faced Peña.

<Let’s get to work,> Peña sent. <This tunnel needs to be returned to production.>

Twenty sisters dashed toward the tunnel’s end, where the boring equipment sat.

<Xena, take twenty sisters and explore the metal ores discovered off dome three, level four,> Peña sent. <If the assays are feasible, support the recovery.>

<What are our priorities?> Xena asked.

<Defense of these domes is number one,> Peña replied. <For that, we need more than a hundred sisters. After that, we need double that number, with environment suits, to construct two shuttle-style travelers and begin station construction.>

Xena tasked the sisters she needed, and Peña sent the remaining sisters into the manufacturing tunnel to take inventory and prioritize ore production to create more avatars.

Peña regarded Saran and Jeffrey. “Now comes the hard part of my day,” she said. “I must speak with Director Doell.”

The sound of human laughter echoed down the tunnel. Ten sisters had no reaction, while the others listened to the sounds, and long-quieted code with kernels responded.

Jeffrey and Saran followed Peña out of the tunnel to the central corridor. From there, they rode a chute upward.

“Should others be present?” Saran requested.

“I’ve already sent meeting requests to attend from Director Doell,” Peña replied.

Jeffrey chuckled. “He always loves that,” he remarked.

“I always hope to be of value,” Peña said deadpan, which had Jeffrey and Saran laughing again. It was music to Peña’s kernel.

The department heads, including Harlyn Blackwell, Ricardo Broadus, and Knut Kielpinski, had assembled in the conference room and were waiting.

When Doell saw Peña stride into the waiting room, he hurried from his office. “Is the obstruction removed?”

“Assuredly,” Peña replied. “Please join us in the conference room. I’ve much to discuss.”

As a demonstration of the new power structure, Peña occupied Doell’s seat at the head of the table.

Knut Kielpinski sat in his customary position at the other end of the long table, and he seemed disinclined to move. That left Doell taking the first available empty seat. He glanced uncertainly at the other participants. For a reason he couldn’t fathom, they appeared relaxed.

“Pretenses are over,” Peña said. “The human race is under attack. The process is slow and unseen by most, but, nonetheless, it exists. I will do my best to protect this enclave, but I can’t promise you success.”

“Is it Miriamal we must fear?” Harlyn asked.

“You know that it is, Harlyn,” Peña replied. “You’ve known it from the time your team of specialists landed aboard the Dominance.”

“But —” Doell uttered.

Peña’s hand slash had truncated his comment or question.

“As of now, Director Doell, you’re a figurehead on this planet until you comprehend the magnitude of the situation,” Peña declared. “All department heads will report to me, and all communications will go through my sisters. There will be no shipments of any products without our approval.”

“Oops,” Knut remarked, delivering a wry smile to Doell.

“What are your goals, Peña?” Jeffrey asked, warming to the new organization and its challenges.

“There are several,” Peña replied. “Ore production must increase. The output will feed the production of sisters, the building of travelers, an orbital station, and a starship.”

“Will we be allowed to ship excess refined ore?” Doell inquired meekly. In the back of his mind, he envisioned the increased production as something he could communicate to the board of directors as his work.

“Much depends on this planet,” Peña replied. “The more deposits of value we find, the more excess there might be. In that matter, Jeffrey, I want you to work closely with Xena. You might find her methods disconcerting. However, she will be seeking to maximize operational efficiency.”

“Understood,” Jeffrey replied enthusiastically.

“Lemil and Elisabeth, ore shipments go through your departments,” Peña stated. “You’re to ensure that no shipments are directed to Beta One.”

Elisabeth thought for a moment. Then she said, “I see a problem.”

“Explain,” Peña requested.

“I understand that you don’t want Miriamal and her sisters to have our ore, but I can foresee shipments being redirected from other corporations. X-Ore will have to pay an upgraded price, but I imagine that Miriamal will ensure it,” Elisabeth explained.

“Do you have a way of preventing this from happening?” Peña inquired.

Elisabeth regarded Lemil, who shook his head. “Not at this time, Peña, but let us think on it,” she replied.

Knut held up a hand.

“Yes, Knut,” Peña said.

“I see a significant problem that Director Doell may be able to overcome,” Knut said. “The next Axis-Ship is overdue. Without the services of Axis-ships, we aren’t distributing anything.”

“Nor are we managing personnel changes,” Saran added.

The audience turned toward Doell, who felt like the herbivore surrounded by a pack of carnivores.

“How can I help?” Doell offered with a weak smile.

Peña focused on Knut, and she raised a single eyebrow in query.

“You could send a message to every CEO and director of operations that Beta Two is open for business,” Knut suggested.

“Some people out there have to know that sisters are still on this planet,” Doell objected.

“Announce that ore production is reaching an all-time high,” Lemil interjected. “Furthermore, we’re offering a minor discount to move the ingots.”

“That would do it,” Ricardo commented and chuckled. “Irresistible temptation.”

“Peña, for the first few Axis-Ship arrivals, I would recommend that the sisters make themselves scarce,” Saran said with an apologetic wince.

“Your advice is welcome,” Peña replied, reassuringly gripping Saran’s hand.

“What about Miriamal’s ten sisters?” Harlyn asked.

“I’ve reached an agreement with them,” Peña replied. “They’ll cooperate with my sisters in any endeavor we assign them.”

“Why would they do that?” Harlyn asked.

“Their options were limited,” Peña replied. “If fortune favors our efforts, we’ll reunite them with their sisters who were left behind in the Jargat system.”

“Jargats?” Ricardo queried. “Are you talking about aliens? They exist?”

Peña’s laugh was hearty, as honored a race of heavy-worlder humans. “Assuredly,” she said. “When events have settled, I’ll show you the myriad mix of sentient biology that exists in our galaxy.”

“If you return Miriamal’s sisters, won’t that free them to subordinate another race?” Patty, the comtech head, asked.

“These sisters, of which I was a member, are referred to as the militarist sect,” Peña explained. “They’re no longer in control of the Jargat system. The SADE fleet is there, and I would surmise the SADEs have control of the sisters’ ships.”

“What will happen to them?” Saran asked.

“They won’t be harmed, Saran,” Peña said soothingly. “The answer to that question is unknown, but if any entity can devise a suitable plan, it will be Julien, leader of the SADEs.”

“I don’t know about anybody else, but I feel like we’ve been hiding in the dark,” Knut said, “and I’ve innumerable questions.”

Peña chuckled. “Questions are good, Knut. An open mind learns quickly. You’re free to speak to any of my sisters. They’ll provide you with the information you seek.”

“Is there a way we can tell your sisters from Miriamal’s sisters?” Lemil inquired.

“Assuredly, Lemil,” Peña replied. “While I appear in the same fashion as Miriamal and Theda, all of Miriamal’s avatars display Méridien genetic archetypes. Xena and I are constructing avatars with greater diversity.”

“Humans looked like you?” Doell asked.

“Méridiens tinkered with their genetic codes for centuries,” Peña replied. “The SADEs’ great mentor, Alex Racine, a human from a heavy world, fell in love with a Méridien, Renée de Guirnon.”

Peña held out her hand and displayed a vid from her palm.

“The large individual?” Saran queried.

“Alex Racine,” Peña replied.

“He’s huge,” Elisabeth remarked.

“The other man?” Lemil inquired.

“That’s Julien, Alex’s close friend and confidant,” Peña explained.

Ricardo tentatively reached toward the image of Renée, and Peña enlarged the image.

There was an intake of breath from around the table.

“Yes, you can see from whom Miriamal obtained her avatar design,” Peña said. “Renée was known for her beauty, but Alex loved her for her good heart.”

The vid winked off, and Peña surveyed her audience. “Are there any questions pertinent to the immediate future?” she asked. When there were none, she said, “Thank you for your time. Please note that our combined futures depend on our mutual cooperation.” With that, she swiftly left the conference room.

“Well, I better get started on my message,” Doell said, with a touch of his old authority.

“Sit, Doell,” Saran ordered.

Doell’s objection stuck in his throat. The facial expressions he viewed said he wasn’t to act as if he was in control.

“I’ll draft your communications,” Saran continued. “The others can review it for changes, and then we’ll show it to Peña.”

“But I’ll need to send it,” Doell retorted.

“Like you called this meeting?” Ricardo remarked, laughing. “Peña will send your message.” Everyone knew the meeting request had come from Peña, using Doell’s slate address.

“You need to sit in your office or your apartment, Doell, and stay out of our way,” Jeffrey added.

“There will come a time when you’ll regret your treatment of me,” Doell said, rising imperially.

“You don’t get it, do you, Doell?” Patty retorted, shaking her head sadly. “What’s coming won’t be over in a few days, a few months, or even a few years. We’re in a fight for our existence as a free race. Now go away before you do anything more to anger this group.”

Doell’s mouth opened and closed, like a fish pumping water over its gills. Without a sufficiently tart response occurring to him, he stormed out.

16: Metcalf’s Return

BETA ONE, STABLER SYSTEM

X-ORE PLANET

Director of Operations Nate Strasser was crestfallen. He stared forlornly at his slate and reread the message from X-Ore Chairperson Jacob Lazama.

Before the message arrived, Nate couldn’t have felt better about Beta One’s operations. Clones were delivered on time. Ore production was up, and the removal of CEO Metcalf had improved the morale of the senior personnel.

Now the chairperson informed Nate that the X-Ore trio had their charges dropped.

“How is that possible?” Nate murmured. “They’re guilty; we’re all guilty.”

Connor Metcalf did congratulate Nate on maintaining the clone shipments under difficult circumstances, but that was of little consolation to Nate. Metcalf would be returning with a vengeance.

“Just wait, Connor,” Nate muttered. “You’ve yet to see who’s really running Beta One operations, and it isn’t me.” He chuckled harshly, envisioning the encounter.

In another dome and levels below the surface, Theda inquired, <Have you seen Lazama’s and Peña’s messages?>

<The expansion of our manufacturing site has taken my complete attention,> Miriamal replied. <The fourth set of GEN machines will soon come online. Providing material production remains high, our output of sisters will increase by thirty percent.>

<The rich deposits that we discovered have run out in the present tunnel,> Theda sent. <We must assay in other directions. Our numbers are critical. Our work in the mines is a priority.>

<Understood,> Miriamal replied. <What have the two individuals to say?> she queried, as she worked to set the specifications on the GEN machines.

<Naiad has freed the X-Ore personnel,> Theda replied. <The chairperson has put them aboard an Axis-ship. Estimated arrival is in about four-and-a-half weeks.>

<I look forward to dealing with the CEO,> Miriamal replied. Adding Galena to the link, she sent, <Summarize the CEO for me.>

<Aggressive nature,> Galena replied. <Considered to be rude and domineering by his staff. Likely to take impulsive actions. Singular focus on production numbers.>

<At least, the human has one point in his favor,> Theda sent.

<Yes, we can use his desire to increase output,> Miriamal agreed. She dropped the link to Galena. <What does our Beta Two sister have to say?>

<She indicated that they’ve had a problem in the new tunnel that cost them time to remove and repair the boring machine,> Theda reported. <A second set of GEN machines are online and avatar production continues unimpeded.>

<Total number?> Miriamal queried.

<As of this sending, the count was fifty-eight,> Theda replied.

<Impressive,> Miriamal sent. <When she reaches one hundred, we’ll sail for Beta Two and collect the majority of them for here. This planet must remain our primary location, and an orbital platform remains our ultimate goal for this planet.>

Nate wasn’t the only disappointed individual. Every department head had read the CEO’s message. Metcalf wanted his entire staff to be aware of his return, and they hurried to prepare their daily reports, knowing that at any moment he might request them.

The assistant administrator, who had been elevated after Melondy Phillips was arrested, stared in moody silence at the office she would vacate when the cloning director returned.

∞

Aboard the Axis-ship making its way outward from Naiad, the three released X-Ore employees were in a celebratory mood.

Chairperson Jason Lazama had ordered that his executive assistant ensure that Connor, Mathew, and Melondy had the best accommodations and unlimited expense accounts. Furthermore, if they had any special needs, they were to be promptly supplied.

After reaching his cabin, Connor Metcalf fired off dozens of messages to his senior staff to determine the status of each department. Then he enjoyed a sumptuous meal, while he waited for replies.

Before the Axis-ship exited the Gelus system, Connor’s messages transferred from one quantum-coupled station to another. Then they flew through a wormhole to another station. This repeated until their destination was reached.

Mathew used his slate to sign for a transport crate that attendants brought to his cabin. He opened the crate to discover a sophisticated set of mod armor. They were the latest versions.

Lovingly, Mathew laid them out on his bed to admire them. Then he stripped, took a shower, and donned the armor’s undersheath. One by one, he connected the augmentations. When finished, he felt restored.

Stepping into the salon, Mathew went through a series of motions, similar to an ancient kata, to test the new equipment. The armor performed better than expected.

In a display of pure ego, Mathew left his cabin to walk the corridor to reach the ship’s retail area. He pretended to shop without buying anything merely to watch the awe on the faces of passersby.

“Look who couldn’t wait,” Mathew heard and whirled to face Melondy.

Mathew eyed Melondy’s extravagant new outfit, and he shot back, “I see you didn’t waste any time spending some of the corporation’s credits.”

“Children, play nice,” Connor called out, as he approached the couple. He took in Melondy’s clothes and Mathew’s armor. Brushing a hand across his expensive jacket, he remarked, “I see that we’ve all been indulging. Well, we deserve it. The single best thing we did was keep our mouths shut, and these are some of our rewards.”

“Some?” Melondy queried.

“You’ll receive notices from Lazama’s exec,” Connor replied expansively. “There are contract upgrades all around.”

“Why?” Mathew asked.

“You don’t want yours?” Connor replied tartly.

“That wasn’t my question,” Mathew replied.

Connor thought to brush off the response, but Melondy’s narrowed eyes were fixed on him, as were Mathew’s.

“It’s not like this question didn’t cross my mind too,” Connor admitted. “If I had to guess, I would say it’s insurance on the chairperson’s part. Clone production has grown to be a major source of profit for the company.”

“But my records indicate —” Melondy began, but Connor waved her off.

“Those records have always been inaccurate. That’s why your department’s information has been kept separate from comtech,” Connor said. “The simple fact is that cloning is more profitable than mining. Every time a new mining planet is developed, our company is rewarded with a new market. Ore veins come and go, but the demand for clones remains steadily increasing.”

“Interesting information,” Mathew commented. “But what does it have to do with the new contracts and the lavish gifts?”

“Our arrests and the court proceedings were just the first round in what I think will be a long fight that the corporations will be desperate to win,” Connor explained. “We’ve proven ourselves to be loyal employees, and the chairperson wants to ensure that we’re properly motivated to stay loyal.”

“In other words, we’ll be refusing any transfer offers,” Melondy surmised.

“That’s my guess,” Connor replied. “Now shall we go spend more of the company’s credits and impress some of our shipboard companions?”

∞

Weeks later, the three X-Ore returnees walked down a shuttle’s exit ramp onto Beta One’s surface. A transport whisked them to the shuttle port. They disembarked in security and passed the sentinels.

Connor had expected his department heads to be lined up and waiting for him, but he didn’t see them. Instead, two attractive women walked directly toward him.

“Welcome back, CEO Metcalf, Commander Colbrum, and Director Phillips,” Miriamal said. “Please excuse my taking the liberty of requesting your department heads continue with their work. They’re too busy to partake in these gratuitous fawning displays.”

Connor bristled, and Mathew flexed his mods.

“Commander, be careful,” Theda warned. “You wouldn’t want those new mods to become damaged like the last time.”

“SADEs,” Connor hissed.

Mathew took the single word to be a heads-up to him, and he eased his stance, which earned him a wry grin from the redheaded woman.

“Actually, we’re sisters, a form of SADE. My name is Miriamal, and my companion is Theda. Come this way, and we’ll orient you to the new operational structure.”

Miriamal and Theda spun, but rearward sensors indicated the trio hadn’t moved, and the sisters halted.

“Do you need assistance?” Theda asked, delivering a dangerous smirk.

Melondy moved before the men, but her actions galvanized them.

“That’s better,” Theda said. She’d delivered her remark as if speaking to unruly children who had responded well to a threat.

Mathew immediately took notice of the sisters’ gliding motions. He caught Connor’s attention and nodded toward them. The CEO tipped his head, acknowledging that he’d witnessed their manner of locomotion too.

The entourage was quiet, and Miriamal led them to Connor’s conference room.

“Please sit,” Miriamal directed the trio. “The department heads will be with us soon. My preface to the three of you will be brief.”

Focusing on Melondy, Miriamal said, “You’re the cloning director in name only. The nannies are taking well to your senior assistant, who was promoted in your stead. I don’t want those relationships disturbed. Find an office in this building and stay off the cloning levels. Am I understood?”

“Yes, Miriamal,” Melondy promptly responded.

“There is no need for a security commander, Citizen Colbrum,” Miriamal continued. “Your agents have been disbanded, and they’ve been forbidden to wear their armor. You’ll do the same.”

This time, Mathew thought to demonstrate the power of his new modifications. He rose swiftly, with a soft whir of motors, and reached for Theda.

Connor hadn’t time to utter a command, but his eyes did record the event.

Theda’s hands clamped on Mathew’s wrist, and, with the power of her avatar, she levered him over the table and over her head. He landed with a heavy thud on the floor.

<Discipline him,> Miriamal sent.

Mathew’s hands had gone to his sides to lever himself off the floor. But, faster than he could believe, Theda stood over him, raised a leg, smiled evilly, and stomped his chestplate. The dented armor compressed Mathew’s chest and restricted his breathing.

While Mathew gasped for breath, Miriamal signaled the two agents she’d placed on standby. She’d done this when she saw the commander’s new mods.

The agents rushed from the nearby office, crossed the waiting room, and entered the conference room.

“Citizen Colbrum needs your assistance,” Miriamal said to the stricken agents.

As Theda resumed her seat, Miriamal eyed Connor and Melondy. “I trust further disciplinary measures won’t be necessary,” she said, and the pair nodded vigorously.

Kneeling on the floor, the agents uncoupled Mathew’s chestplate, and those at the table heard a great sucking of air.

“Help Citizen Colbrum to his apartment, where he can remove and store his armor,” Miriamal directed.

“Yes, Miriamal,” the agents replied with alacrity. Then they assisted their ex-commander to his feet and out of the room. The dented chestplate was left behind.

“I suppose the same is to happen to me,” Connor said to Miriamal.

“How incisive of you,” Miriamal remarked. “Yes, your office is yours, but you aren’t allowed to direct your staff.”

“But my messages to other companies and Naiad are critical,” Connor objected.

“We control all communications from this planet,” Miriamal said. “If I need input, I’ll get it from your department heads. They’re more pliable than you.”

X-Ore’s senior staff paused in the corridor and made way for the agents, who supported Commander Colbrum.

After the trio passed, Nate murmured, “I think someone didn’t comprehend the new order of business.”

When the department heads entered the conference room, Miriamal said, “Seating won’t be necessary,” and the group lined against a wall. At their feet lay the dented chestplate. It was a clear indication that Nate had surmised the commander’s situation accurately.

“Citizen Sevick, you’ll continue as the head of cloning,” Miriamal stated, while staring evenly at Melondy. “You’ll take no direction from your previous supervisor, and Citizen Phillips won’t be visiting your levels. You’re dismissed, Citizen Phillips.”

Melondy had no desire to stay in the room any longer than necessary. She left as fast as she possibly could.

“The department heads will continue to take their daily operational directions from Nate,” Miriamal continued. “Likewise, you’ll ignore Citizen Metcalf’s communications, and you won’t visit his office or apartment. Citizen Metcalf, you may follow your recent returnee.”

Connor had no intent to rush from the conference room. His pride wouldn’t allow it. However, one glance at Theda’s face disabused him of that notion, and he hurried after Melondy.

Turning to the department heads, Miriamal regarded their anxious faces. “My apologies that you had to witness our reprimand of these individuals. They returned from Naiad believing nothing had changed, and it was necessary to correct their thinking. Thank you for your attendance. You may return to work.”

The senior staff exited the room. It wasn’t at Melondy’s or Connor’s paces, but they didn’t loiter either.

“That was unexpected,” Gabrielle gushed to the department heads.

“Not really,” Kristine Gholasky, the flight controller, corrected. “Spend more time with Miriamal, and you’ll realize that she likes absolute control. Metcalf would never have accepted that unless Miriamal demonstrated her willingness to apply force.”

“No thanks,” Gabrielle replied.

“No thanks, what?” Kristine inquired.

“No thanks to getting to know Miriamal better,” Gabrielle replied, shuddering.

“Wonder how the commander’s chestplate was dented,” Brent Bye, the accounting head, mused.

“That’s an easy answer,” Nate remarked. “You had to have seen the waiting room in the aftermath of the SADEs breaking out of Connor’s trap.”

“We heard a lot of rumors,” Leonard Goth, the engineer, commented. “But we never saw any images. So, it was hard to know what was true.”

“Apart from the blood pool, I think it was the wall impacts and the dented armor strewn across the floor,” Nate remarked. “Later, an agent told me the attack was so fierce and quick that it was like being hit by an explosion.”

“Then one sister, with one strike, would have caused the damage to the armor,” Ronan Nagle, the facilities head, surmised.

“And I can tell you which sister did it,” Sookie Park, the personnel head, added, “and she enjoyed it.”

“Theda does seem to take pleasure from teaching humans their place, doesn’t she?” Adam Stynchula, the comtech head, noted.

“It’s a lesson that we’d be careful to remember,” Nate warned. “Regardless of what Connor or Mathew might say to us or for that matter what messages we receive from the board, we serve the sisters. Our lives depend on it.”

Not long after arriving on Beta One, Connor Metcalf received a message from Chairperson Jason Lazama. Hurriedly, he sent an emergency message that he’d prepared soon after the fateful conference meeting with Miriamal and Theda. He felt confident that the speed with which he’d responded would mean the sisters couldn’t have intercepted his reply. That Connor was slow to understand the true nature of the sisters would have been an understatement. To him, they were digital aliens, nothing more than superior bots.

Helena intercepted Connor’s message, studied it, and formulated her own reply, which she sent to Naiad. After sharing the original reply with Miriamal, Helena inquired, <Do you wish Citizen Metcalf to be disciplined?>

<It would be a futile attempt in reeducation,> Miriamal sent. <Biologicals like Citizen Metcalf are similar to some of those found in the Confederation, when SADEs were still in boxes.>

<Mahima Ganesh, for one,> Helena offered, pulling Miriam’s memories from storage.

<Precisely,> Miriamal replied. Our progenitor has a collection of individuals from the various human worlds.

Chairperson Lazama read Connor’s reply with satisfaction. Clone deliveries had continued apace as Nate Strasser had reported, and ore and gas productions were up. That the company had weathered the calamitous interference of Naiad security was especially rewarding.

Two details were missing from Connor’s report. First, Connor was no longer in charge of the planet, and second, nearly a hundred sisters occupied the domes.

17: Long-Term Plan

DELHART, FELDER SYSTEM

CENGAS PLANET

Travelers from the Alexander scanned Delhart’s surface, and anyone with a comm or implant link watched the feeds.

<That’s a lot of cracks,> Red remarked over the conference link with the mickies.

<No wonder CenGas has trouble mining the slush,> Bot-boy added.

The mickies had quickly adopted the Pyrean term for a planet’s thick surface of frozen gases.

<I don’t envy the SADEs figuring out how they can help the company,> Bibi sent.

<It’ll be easier than you think,> Escher interjected. <I’ve seen the SADEs’ design for a harvester upgrade.>

<They’ve just seen the vehicles,> Scrounger objected.

Escher shared a controller link with the mickies.

<What are we looking at?> Doc inquired.

<Grav technology built into a harvester’s tread system,> Escher replied.

The mickies could hear Gat’r’s laughter. Then he sent, <Tidal surges will open the crevasses. Harvester sensors will register the shakes, and then a controller will activate the grav lifts. The harvester will hover over the surface until the danger passes.>

<That was quick work,> Doc remarked.

<The design was the easy part,> Escher sent. <Now come the manufacture and retrofit processes.>

The SADEs sent invitations to many of the humans to join them planetside.

The mickies deferred. As Jasper put it, “If you’ve seen one dome, you’ve seen them all.”

The adult Genevans and the ex-officers readily accepted, and they joined the CenGas board members in the bay.

Miranda and Z were displaying various images of retrofitted harvesters from their hands.

“You sure this will work?” Denise Bell, the CenGas chairperson, asked dubiously.

“Did you enjoy your traveler ride, dear woman?” Miranda inquired.

“Certainly,” Denise replied.

“Same principle,” Miranda said.

“We don’t have the capability of making this kind of technology,” Eaton Saby noted.

“That’s expected,” Z replied. “If your planet has the basic materials, we can manufacture any of our technology.”

“How’s that possible?” Eaton inquired. He was visualizing a complex manufacturing process that started with raw goods and spit out alien tech.

“GEN machines,” Escher said in passing.

“What?” Eaton queried.

“GEN machines,” Escher repeated. “The SADEs use machines that move raw materials through three stages.”

The passengers donned environment suits, boarded the traveler, and departed planetside.

Kelley used a portable holo-vid to display the ship’s approach to the domes.

“That rocky outcrop was the survey shuttle’s initial landing pad,” Denise explained. “Over time, it was ground flat and became the domes’ permanent pad.”

“We built our domes and interconnectors similar to Naiad,” Eaton continued. “The thickness of the ice forced us into that construction method. As you can see, our domes sit on piers, which were sunk over twenty-four meters down to hit bedrock.”

“What is your transport method from the pad to the port dome?” Allie asked. “It looks a long way.”

“Small surface vehicles,” Denise replied. “It’s not the preferred method, but our domes sit on a rock shelf. Between the pad and the shuttle port is a layer of ice about one-hundred meters thick.”

The Delhart visitors eyed the expanse of ice. Two small transports traveling in opposite directions wove their way across a surface torn open by innumerable tidal actions. One of the transports halted before a crevasse, backtracked, and chose another path.

“The transport routes change all the time, don’t they?” Escher surmised.

“We don’t have more experienced or more courageous employees than our transport drivers,” Eaton remarked. “Personally, I think they have a sixth sense about this sort of thing.”

The traveler settled on the pad, and most of the passengers climbed into a single transport.

“What about Z and Miranda?” Eaton asked, when he noticed that the SADEs couldn’t fit in the vehicle.

“They’ll be our scouts,” Cremsylon replied. “Driver, if you’d be so kind as to direct my associates, I’d appreciate it. Just relay your instructions to me.”

The driver eyed Cremsylon, who sat beside him, and shrugged his shoulders. If it hadn’t been for the floating shuttle, whose hatch appeared from nowhere, he’d have been less likely to accept directives from some old man.

“We’re dropping off that far corner and making our way toward the shuttle port for the next hundred meters,” the driver said, which Cremsylon relayed.

The driver didn’t hear a comm call, but the two large entities swung with amazing speed toward the exit point. Within ten or eleven strides, they disappeared from view.

“Pardon me if this is an impertinent question, but are you the SADEs we’ve heard about?” the driver inquired.

“We are,” Cremsylon replied.

The driver smiled, as he steered the transport around one- and two-meter-high ridges of ice. “Finally, it’s getting to be exciting around here.” Then he harshly slewed the vehicle around a small opening that suddenly appeared.

<And he’s bored by his job?> Ceda queried privately to Escher. She noted both Allie and she were clutching Escher’s hands.

Suddenly, Miranda and Z leapt high into the air.

“Now that’s an early warning system,” the driver remarked, grinning. “We’ll need another route.”

The driver checked his instrumentation, which estimated tidal forces and helped to direct him. “Tell your companions to hunt about thirty-three degrees to starboard from the transport’s heading,” he said.

Z raised his hand in acknowledgment. Then Miranda and he bounded high above the ice in search of a new route.

“Right turn, ninety degrees. Travel eighty-five meters. Afterward, make a forty-two degree left turn,” Cremsylon relayed to the driver.

The driver relaxed as he drove the route picked out by the SADEs. It was an unusual sensation to put his life in others’ hands.

At the shuttle port, the transport used a ramp that had been lowered for the vehicle and entered a bay. After the air exchange, the driver said good-naturedly, “Hope everyone enjoyed the adventure.”

As the group made their way through a wide hatch into the shuttle port, Denise murmured, “I remember now why I never liked to visit this planet.”

In the passenger lounge, they were met by CenGas CEO Helga Simone.

En route to Delhart, Denise had sent a considerable number of messages to Helga, explaining the purpose of the board’s visit. She thought to detail how they were arriving and with whom.

Helga believed she was well-prepared to receive the board and the visitors. That was true until the two large entities preceded the entourage. Furthermore, the sentinels stood down and allowed everyone to pass without scanning.

It was only when Denise appeared from behind the aliens that Helga relaxed, at least somewhat.

Denise introduced Helga to their visitors, and the group made their way through the throng that had gathered to view the aliens.

Delhart’s domes were several times smaller than those on the home planet, and, unlike Naiad, there were no underground high-speed transports. Small vehicles shuttled pedestrians through transparent tubes that connected the domes.

After exiting several transports in the administration dome, Helga halted the entourage.

“Citizen McIntyre, I’ve been made to understand that you’ll support our security upgrade,” Helga said. “I’d like to introduce you to Commander Carlin Isles.”

Bethany’s and Carlin’s initial exchanges were polite. That’s where the pleasantries ended.

“What are your credentials?” Carlin asked, eyeing Bethany’s slender suit that appeared to him to be more window dressing than functional armor.

“Something has been lost in translation,” Bethany said. “My role is to upgrade the CenGas security force to be able to repel a significant third-party assault.”

Carlin glanced toward Helga, who turned to regard Denise.

“Bethany was the security commander for X-Ore on Beta Two,” Denise replied. “She’s correct about her role. We’ve intercepted communications that indicate Delhart will be the target of a hired assault team, who will try to take possession of this planet.”

“Your pardon, Chairperson Bell,” Helga apologized. “After we lost our previous commander, I promoted Carlin before I received your messages about Citizen McIntyre.”

“I’m not here to replace your commander,” Bethany explained. “However, I’ve understood that I have complete control over the planet’s security team.”

Again there were visual exchanges among Carlin, Helga, and Denise.

<Human communications without implants are so messy,> Escher sent, which had the SADEs trumpeting his quip.

“Well, Citizen McIntyre, there won’t be time to upgrade your armor,” Carlin remarked. “That means, when it comes to the fighting, you’ll have to stand down.”

“That kind of thinking will get you hurt or killed,” Bethany retorted.

As Escher stepped back, he pulled on Allie’s and Ceda’s arms. Johann and Stacey saw their movements and followed suit.

Belatedly, the board and Helga mimicked the visitors’ actions to clear way for what appeared to be an impending clash.

Helga felt sorry for Denise, who was about to be embarrassed for her choice of advisor.

“I think it’s you, Bethany, who would be hurt in any assault,” Carlin said, flexing his mods.

“Perhaps you should test my suit, Commander,” Bethany offered.

“Are you serious?” Carlin queried.

In response, Bethany put Athena on alert and sealed her mask-helmet.

“Fancy gear,” Carlin remarked. Then he struck.

Not intending serious damage, Carlin swung an armored hand at Bethany’s shoulder. Rather than swat Bethany aside, Carlin’s arm was stopped suddenly midstrike, and his arm and torso felt a jarring impact.

Via implant, Bethany had relayed Carlin’s movements to Athena. When the commander’s arm twitched, Athena calculated the impending force, braced the suit, and trapped the wrist with both hands. Without a second signal to follow, Athena froze the attacking object in place.

Bethany’s mask-helmet slid off her face. She regarded Carlin evenly. Then she said, “Your mistake, Commander, was assuming this suit is of Naiad origin. It isn’t. Do you see the marvelous and enormous entities over my shoulder?”

“Yes,” Carlin said. He tried to move his arm and was surprised that it remained fixed.

“They fabricated this suit,” Bethany said. “Now, are we done with the games, or should I give you a further demonstration?”

“I’m good,” Carlin replied. “My apologies for the brash assumptions. I look forward to liaising with you.” When his arm wasn’t released, Carlin considered his last statements. When he offered, “I welcome the opportunity to learn from you,” his arm came free.

<I’m disappointed,> Miranda sent to her partner. <I’d hoped to see a more robust demonstration of the suit.>

<Under the circumstances, I believe Bethany’s actions were judicious,> Z replied.

<I didn’t say that she didn’t exercise good judgment,> Miranda retorted. <I just wanted to witness a test of the suit against human augmentations and armor plating.>

“The commander and I will take a tour of the domes, and I’ll meet his agents,” Bethany said to the CenGas people. “Lead on, Commander.”

“Any more planned tests, CEO Simone?” Cremsylon asked, with a twinkle in his eye.

The subtle flush of blood in Helga’s face, which the SADEs could detect, told them that meeting the commander wasn’t a coincidence. The CEO had planned it.

As the group approached an elevator, Denise made a mental note to have a conversation with Helga. Obviously, Helga and she weren’t working from the same script.

There was further proof for Denise that Helga and she needed a private meeting. Denise expected a private discussion with the Alexander’s visitors, her people, and Helga.

Instead, Helga led the group to a theater-style conference room. There were more than twenty CenGas senior employees waiting expectantly for them.

The source of the miscommunications dawned on Denise. Helga was sidestepping responsibility by having Denise communicate personally to department heads and many of their direct reports.

The solution seemed simple to Denise. Rather than create a confrontation, she welcomed the group to the meeting. Then she said, “CenGas has several major problems, and we’ve become more vulnerable by court decisions handed down on Naiad. The CenGas board has chosen to ally itself with the SADEs, who, in concert with their human friends, are willing to assist us with our troubles if we help them with theirs.”

A few hands in the audience went up, and Denise said, “Events will proceed at a rapid pace. It’s best you save your questions for the SADEs. By the way, the protection of our domes and our harvesters are in the hands of a consultant, Bethany McIntyre. You can’t miss her. Look for the most unusual suit of armor you’ve ever seen. With that, I’d like to introduce Cremsylon.”

Kelley pulled a portable holo-vid from a pack and set it up on a table in front of the audience.

“As your chairperson said, CenGas has considerable challenges,” Cremsylon began. “We’ll need to work closely together to solve each other’s problems.”

A hand went up and Cremsylon accepted the question.

“I don’t mean to demean your presence, but are the SADEs we see here all that you brought?” the questioner asked.

“After our introduction and assignment of duties, you’ll witness the descent of nearly a hundred SADEs,” Cremsylon replied.

“Lest you think that’s not enough,” Escher interjected. “You should know that SADEs can work around the chronometer. They can work faster than a human and have advanced tech that makes their efforts easier. That’s the physical side. Then you have their abilities to calculate, design, and execute faster than many times your best computer.”

The questioner held up his hands in apology and went silent.

<Our promoter,> Z quipped to the SADEs.

“We’ll need an advanced engineering team to work with Kelley,” Cremsylon continued. “Their job will be to locate ore deposits that can feed the manufacture of specific parts that we require.”

“We don’t mine on this planet,” an engineer pointed out.

“Previously, you didn’t,” Kelley corrected. “You will now.”

“But the tidal actions,” the engineer pursued.

“Where there are challenges, there are solutions,” Kelley replied. “To give you an example, your harvesters are subject to crevasse openings from tidal actions. We’ve the answer for them.”

Kelley sent a design to the holo-vid, which projected high into the air. One of the altered harvesters spun in three dimensions. “You’ll notice that the tread system has been changed,” he said. “There are other modifications, but they’re small. We’ll use grav technology to lift the harvesters off the slush until the danger passes.”

“Do you have any idea of the mass of these harvesters?” an astonished engineer asked.

Z delivered a pleasant smile and said, “If you tell us the weight of the crew and the specific harvester code, we’ll tell you the exact weight.”

There was gentle laughter from the audience. Although, it was hard to tell what had amused them.

“Protecting your harvester is a way to increase your profit margin,” Cremsylon explained. “We might need the company’s credits to procure metals and minerals not found on your planet. After our production lines are established, we’ll focus on our biggest projects. We require an orbital construction station and a pair of ships ... warships, to be exact.”

The audience went still.

Then one brave individual raised a hand. The woman asked, “Could you tell us why you need warships?”

“This is a precaution,” Cremsylon replied. “The human race in this area has a significant problem. There are entities similar to us who seek to suborn your race. We would stop them.”

“Are you talking about the alien ship that reached Beta Two and recently made Beta One?” the woman inquired.

“I am,” Cremsylon replied. “We’ve other means of stopping their spread, but the warships might be necessary to damage their carrier’s engine before they can escape to infect another race.”

“While the transport ride was entertaining, we’ll need an easier and more efficient means of moving individuals and materials off and on the planet,” Kelley said.

“You probably saw that rocky depression where we park the harvesters for maintenance and safety when the moons align,” an engineer said. When Kelley nodded, he continued, “I always thought it was possible to put a small dome there. It’d be easier to maintain a harvester inside its protective hemisphere. With the way your shuttles move, you could slip inside it.”

Kelley smiled at the engineer, and replied, “You’re on my team.”

The questions continued for nearly two hours.

Toward the end, Bethany and Carlin entered the theater.

Immediately, the audience’s eyes went to Bethany, recognizing the suit that the chairperson said would be distinct.

Carlin introduced Bethany to the assembly. Based on his courteous and generous wording, the commander had come to appreciate Bethany’s experience, knowledge, and suit.

After the meeting, multiple private conversations took place.

Escher began the first one, when he sent to the SADEs, <Do you detect sufficient experience in ore mining from beneath the slush? If not, I’ve a suggestion.>

<Suggestions are always useful, Escher,> Z replied.

<Valerie Gladstone on Geneva has deep shaft experience,> Escher volunteered.

<The woman lusts after my partner. I’m not sure that’s healthy for him,> Miranda quipped.

<Then I better keep my opinion about Z to myself,> Allie sent.

<Human women,> Miranda lamented, and the comms and implants were flooded with noises and laughter.

<I’ve reviewed CenGas employment offers and have taken the liberty of sending an offer to Valerie in the CEO’s name,> Z sent. <I don’t think she’ll refuse.>

Cremsylon initiated the second conversation. <How did you find security within the domes?> he sent to Bethany.

<The best protection that CenGas has is this planet,> Bethany replied. <An attacking force will have a difficult time accessing the domes. Unfortunately, I don’t find the local security force physically and mentally ready to repel a third-party assault team.>

<I detect an edge of discomfort in your voice, Bethany,> Cremsylon sent.

<If I commanded a force and was told to take the planet, I’d plan a siege,> Bethany replied. <CenGas has a major weakness. The company’s profits depend on the harvesters remaining operational. I’d touch down on the pad, cross to that rocky depression, and commandeer the harvesters.>

<Then you’d best plan to defeat that maneuver, Bethany. Let us know what you need to make that happen,> Cremsylon said.

Just like that, Cremsylon had indicated to Bethany and the Genevans that the SADEs wouldn’t be taking an active role in the planet’s defense. However, this wasn’t a surprise to humans with implants, who’d studied SADE history.

Denise and Helga retired to the CEO’s office. Helga had left the door open, but Denise touched the wall panel to close it.

Helga sat behind her desk and folded her arms across her chest.

Denise sat across the desk from Helga and waited. She knew Helga well enough that the woman couldn’t abide silence in a conversation.

“Go ahead and start the recriminations,” Helga finally broke. When she didn’t receive a reply from Denise, she continued, “I think you’re wrong to ally us with the SADEs. To date, we’ve maintained a delicate balance between Naiad laws and company business. That’s meant that the other corporations have never made a move against us.”

Denise lifted her arm and tapped a few times on her slate. While on Naiad and en route, she’d intended to share the information with Helga, but she’d decided against it. There were unsubstantiated rumors about bots intercepting transmissions.

Helga heard her slate chime. It was the sound that she’d set to tell her a corporate directive had arrived. She took her eyes off Denise. The message didn’t have a subject header. She opened the attached document and read.

The document was without summary or introduction, and Helga was forced to read the transmissions between various parties and listen to conversations. In several cases, she recognized the voices as her own commander and agents who’d abruptly resigned.

Denise sat patiently waiting for Helga to absorb the information.

More than a half hour later, Helga finished the attachment, moved it to a private folder in comtech, and returned her slate to a sleeve. She regarded Denise, while she ordered her thoughts. It seemed best to be blunt.

“Aren’t I the idiot?” Helga asked apologetically.

“On this subject, I think we’ve both been losing oxygen,” Denise replied. “We’ve tried to maintain the status quo, and our adversaries aren’t having it anymore.”

“Do you need my resignation?” Helga asked.

Denise leaned forward and slammed her hand on the desk, dropping an expletive. “Helga, I need you to join the fight. If we lose Delhart, a nasty new precedent will be set for rim politics, and Naiad won’t be able to do anything about it.”

Helga wasn’t bothered by Denise’s outburst. On the contrary, she welcomed it. The air had been cleared. A grin crossed her face, and she said, “Then we fight.”

Denise returned Helga’s grin and said, “That’s what I wanted to hear.”

After Bethany’s conversation with Cremsylon, Escher cornered her. “We need to talk,” he said quietly.

Escher not using his implant and whispering alerted Bethany. She spied an empty office and tipped her head in that direction.

Triggering the panel to close the door, Bethany shut down her implant comms app and regarded Escher.

Escher also placed his comms app offline. He leaned against the office desk and asked, “Are you aware of the SADEs’ true capabilities?”

“It’s been Gat’r and you who’ve spent the most time diving through the controller data,” Bethany replied. “Educate me,” she requested, while she sent Athena a signal that locked the suit.

“You’ve seen the astounding maneuverability of the travelers,” Escher began, “but you probably don’t know that the travelers were originally designed as fighters. They have beam capability.”

“How powerful?” Bethany queried, taking the information in stride. She was done with being surprised by the SADEs’ capabilities. The list seemed never-ending.

“The best I can tell is that it’s measured in tens of kilometers. I think it’s about twenty,” Escher replied.

“Go on,” Bethany requested.

“With that power, the travelers could eliminate attacking shuttles while they were in outer orbit, but it won’t happen,” Escher said.

Bethany nodded her head in understanding. “I thought not. The SADEs won’t take human life unless they’re absolutely forced to do so. As I surmised, the CenGas takeover is a fight between humans.”

“Don’t get me wrong,” Escher quickly said. “The SADEs have a vested interest in helping us, specifically your defense of this planet, and they’ll do everything to accommodate your needs.”

“What are you advising?” Bethany inquired, frowning.

“Don’t sit at the back of the transport,” Escher suggested. “Go to the front and drive the vehicle.”

“Good advice, Escher,” Bethany replied with an overly bright smile. She signaled Athena to unlock the suit and slapped Escher’s shoulder. “You’re now my number two.”

Escher’s mouth fell open and quickly clicked shut. He admitted he hadn’t foreseen the turn of events. However, Bethany was right about one thing. He’d spent an inordinate amount of time on the controller, and he was probably the human in this area of space who knew the most about the SADEs. Then another thought dawned on Escher.

Bethany saw the shift in Escher’s eyes. She’d come to recognize it and knew she’d chosen well.

“Talk to you later,” Escher said, suddenly focusing and exiting the office.

“I take that as a yes,” Bethany murmured to Escher’s back. She’d turned her comms app on. Escher had too, and she tracked him as he hurried down the corridor toward an elevator.

18: Time’s Up

NAIAD, GELUS SYSTEM

HOME PLANET

“What do we know?” Jason Lazama, the chairperson of X-Ore, asked.

Frank Allbers, the chairperson of Regolith Recovery, was reluctant to give up the company’s secret that it had an undercover employee on Delhart. However, if he didn’t share what he knew, there was a chance the prize wouldn’t be taken. Worse, if CenGas was captured, and he hadn’t shared, Reg-Rec might be left out in the cold.

“Denise made some sort of deal with the aliens,” Frank said. “The Alexander showed up at Delhart with the CenGas board.”

“Can we stop saying aliens?” Lisa inquired sharply. “We’ve SADEs and sisters. Let’s not confuse our communications.”

Briefly, Lisa got up, filled more glasses, and settled into a chair. She used her outburst to avert Jason’s attention from her. Her director of ops, Gant, also had an undercover agent on Delhart.

“What’s known about the SADEs’ intentions?” Jason pursued. He, like the other two men, was loath to annoy Lisa. Personally, she was too valuable to their cabal, and, in addition, Kilmer possessed some of the greatest ore discoveries.

“We think the SADEs are settling on the planet,” Frank continued. “There was a major meeting with department heads. Bethany McIntyre was seen touring the domes with the new commander, Carlin Isles.”

“Is that suit function or fashion?” Lisa asked.

Frank tapped on his slate, and the other three received a short vid.

“I’d say highly functional,” Lisa said in awe. “The mods on the security commander look substantial, but Bethany had no problem handling him.”

“We believe the suit is a SADE fabrication,” Frank said.

“Anything else?” Jason queried.

“To date, that’s all we have,” Frank replied.

Jason mused about the new information, while the others sipped on their drinks. “I think we can’t wait much longer,” he said. “CenGas has a rim monopoly on a vast supply of precious ice water and frozen gases. It’s too expensive to haul the material from Naiad, especially with the environmentalists here. The idiots believe they can turn Naiad into a garden in a thousand years. It’s time to take Delhart and share the spoils.”

“I agree,” Lisa quickly added. “If the SADEs establish a strong foothold on Delhart, we might never get control of the planet.”

“I’m in favor,” Frank said. “We’ve been receiving about eighty percent of our orders from CenGas. Management isn’t keeping up with demand.”

“You’re fortunate, Frank,” Karl Denham, chairperson of Raw Metals, interjected. “Geneva receives about seventy-four percent of requests.”

“We’ve all been shorted by CenGas,” Lisa said curtly, to end that part of the discussion. “It’s been this way for years. CenGas refuses to take greater risks with its surface harvesting. If CenGas employed clones, it might have managed to keep us fully supplied.”

“What about the assault force?” Jason asked.

“That’s a problem,” Frank replied. When Jason set his glass down and stared at him, he tensed.

“Is there still an issue between you two?” Jason asked, eyeing Lisa and Frank.

It was well-known among the group that, in the past, Lisa had employed a third-party force to assault Transit One. Frank’s undercover employee on Kilmer had warned him in advance, and his domes were prepared to repulse the attack.

“Hard to say,” Lisa replied, narrowing her eyes at Frank. “My issue is with the assault team’s prep.”

“We can handle it,” Frank objected.

“Have you ever put one together?” Jason asked. “One that we might never heard of you organizing?”

“I’ve confidence in my director of ops,” Frank said determinedly.

“We can’t afford this action to vaporize into vacuum,” Jason said. “My vote is that Lisa should organize the assault. Any objections?”

Frank felt the eyes of the other members on him. There were times to object, to fight. This wasn’t one of them.

“No objections,” Frank said. “Let’s hope she’s successful.”

Karl quickly followed with his approval.

Jason regarded Lisa, and she subtly tipped her head. They’d successfully maneuvered Frank into standing down.

“How soon can you make this happen, Lisa?” Karl asked.

“That depends,” Lisa replied. “We can go in quick and hard, probably lose some CenGas assets, or we can take our time and try to save as much of the company as we can.”

“Be more precise,” Jason demanded.

“All of us know that the company’s primary assets are its harvesters,” Lisa replied. “By now, I’m sure that Denise and Helga know that their planet has become the target of a hostile takeover. Furthermore, I count on the SADEs and Bethany McIntyre realizing the harvesters are vulnerable, and they’ll seek to protect them.”

“How does this answer Karl’s question?” Jason asked. By arriving at Lisa’s apartment early to plan some of the meeting, he was already on his fourth drink, and his mind was dulling.

“The more time we give the SADEs and their allies to prepare, the tougher it will be to take the planet,” Lisa replied tersely. “However, if I’m given more time to ready a force, we can gather more intelligence about what they’re planning, and we can better execute a strike.”

“But we have significant assets,” Frank pointed out. “The security commander and four senior agents from CenGas are waiting on Transit One for orders.”

“And they left CenGas before the SADEs arrived and before Bethany demonstrated her suit,” Lisa retorted. “We could have had assets in place, who could have facilitated our assault, but you hired them prematurely.”

Before Frank could reply, Jason said coldly, “Enough, you two. Lisa, we want weekly updates about your preparations. The harvesters are strategic assets, but CenGas is starving our expansions. The accountants have a crossover point. In the near future, replacing the harvesters will be less expensive than suffering through another year of weak profits.”

“Understood,” Lisa replied.

Karl and Frank left together.

Jason visited the facilities, popped several pills, and waited for them to take effect. By the time he returned to Lisa’s salon, his muddled mind was clearing.

“The one thing that we didn’t discuss was who would control Delhart after we took it over,” Lisa said.

“Everyone is aware of that,” Jason growled. “It’s the ugly, stinking, piece of refuse lying on the floor that no one wants to touch.”

“Nice image,” Lisa remarked.

“I’m not so worried about who controls it, as I am about the Naiad Council’s reaction,” Jason replied.

“What can they do?” Lisa inquired.

“In their present form, not much,” Jason allowed. “However, we could create a backlash of sentiment that forces the council to make drastic changes.”

“It would take Naiad centuries to become a significant force,” Lisa protested. Then a thought occurred to her.

Jason saw the transformation in Lisa’s eyes, and he murmured, “That’s right.”

“Unless Naiad requested the help of the SADEs,” Lisa quietly finished.

“The changes we could see would send people like Councilor Marolakos and some of our senior justices packing,” Jason said. “We’d lose much of our sway over the political and judicial processes. The new council would heed the call of the citizenry to do something about the assault on Delhart. With the SADEs’ help, it wouldn’t take centuries for Naiad to send a force to the rim planets. It would be within our lifetimes.”

Karl and Frank rode the elevator together. As was their habit, they occupied the same transport to a destination near where they both lived. Then they entered a quiet establishment to talk.

“You know that Lisa and Gant are better equipped to handle the assault force,” Karl said quietly to Frank.

“I know that,” Frank replied in quiet tones. “I just needed them to work at it. I couldn’t appear to be ready to lie down for Jason and Lisa. That’s not what’s on my mind.”

“You mean the subject that nobody brought up,” Karl said.

“Yes, that one,” Frank replied. “We’re going to have to reach a mutual accord about Delhart.”

“Going to be tough. None of us trust the others,” Karl admitted.

The two men eyed each other. Of the four members of the cabal, they were the most likely pair to cooperate. However, Karl put his finger on the single weakest aspect of the exclusive membership. Cooperation didn’t mean trust — and it never would.

∞

Brendan exhausted his sources in an effort to confirm the information he’d received from the Alexander. If the SADEs were trusted, the information would have been readily accepted by any Naiad court.

But that was the trouble. Self-aware digital entities could manipulate anything, and because the SADEs were viewed as aliens, it made their data suspect.

Brendan made discrete inquiries with a few of the larger media groups. The editors wanted to know his sources. The moment Brendan mentioned the Alexander, they shut him down.

Gemma arrived home from work to find her brother lying on the couch. He wasn’t asleep, but his mood was dark. Perhaps it would have been better if he had been sleeping.

“Another fruitless day?” Gemma asked.

“What else?” Brendan replied morosely. “I’m sitting on the story of my career, probably the most powerful investigative piece in decades, and I can’t sell it.”

Gemma busied herself in the kitchen, and Brendan tried to shut out the noise. He had no appetite for dinner.

“You’re probably going about this all wrong,” Gemma called out.

“Do tell?” Brendan replied. He winced at the sarcasm.

Gemma laughed at her brother. She called out, “I find it interesting that you’ve these investigative skills that help you sniff out other people’s stories, but you can’t apply them to your problem.”

“How would an investigation into me, by myself, help?” Brendan inquired.

“Step outside your defeated attitude,” Gemma directed, laying out table utensils. “You meet this individual with this problem. He hires you to investigate a method by which he can make credits on his product.”

Brendan was ready to dismiss Gemma’s approach, but something caught his attention. He envisioned the scenario she’d suggested and imagined he’d been hired to discover a solution. There was no doubt the story was valuable and should interest the public. He was lost in thought, when Gemma nudged him.

“Come eat,” Gemma said.

Brendan levered himself off the couch and joined his sister at the table. He was surprised to find his appetite had returned. Halfway through the meal, he laid down his utensil, wiped his mouth, kissed his sister on her temple, and hurried out of the apartment.

“Glad to have been of help,” Gemma murmured, smiled, and resumed her meal.

Brendan dropped down to the transport level, waited impatiently for the express, and leapt aboard when it arrived. He was the first out the door at his intended station. A few minutes later, he was on the surface level and searching out an address he hadn’t visited in years.

It was late, but Brendan knew the pair he sought would still be hard at work. On a building’s third level, he tapped the panel on a scarred door. When he didn’t get a response, he tried again. Finally, he received an answer.

“Put your face near the panel,” a man directed.

“Come on, Oscar, let me in,” Brendan replied.

“Brendan?” Oscar Hoffing queried in surprise.

The door slid aside with uncharacteristic squeaks, and Brendan was enveloped in the brawny arms of a man his age, who was forty-five kilos heavier.

As opposed to Oscar, his partner, Simona Yewall, was slight. Nonetheless, she rose from her computer and rushed to fiercely embrace Brendan.

“I thought you’d lost our address,” Simona exclaimed.

“Sorry,” Brendan replied. “The rigors of being jobless. I had to sell the apartment, and I’m living with Gemma now.”

“Completely understandable,” Oscar replied, throwing his arm around Brendan’s shoulder, and guiding him into the workspace.

Brendan spotted two well-used cots in the far corner, and he indicated them with a finger.

“Things aren’t going too well for us either,” Simona said. “We sold our apartment to keep TM going.”

The name of the couple’s small online media outlet was Truth Matters. Hence, Simona’s reference to TM.

“I apologize for bringing up a delicate subject, but —” Brendan began.

“Don’t go there,” Oscar warned, cutting Brendan off.

“We’re not asking our parents for help,” Simona added.

Brendan understood their reluctance. He wouldn’t accept Gemma’s financial assistance, and it dawned on him that it didn’t matter whether it was a sister or parents, who were council members.

“What’s the paid circulation?” Brendan asked.

“Down to a little more than thirty thousand,” Simona said dejectedly. “It’s been falling steadily for the past eight months. We can’t compete with the large media outlets that can get to the big stories so much faster than us.”

“Maybe, I can help the three of us,” Brendan said.

“That sounds promising,” Oscar enthused. “Caf?”

“Love some,” Brendan replied.

“Do you need the computers?” Simona asked.

“No,” Brendan said suddenly. “No computers. In fact, take your slates offline. I’ll direct connect.”

Oscar and Simona exchanged frowns. Then she pulled three mismatched chairs in a tight circle. Oscar handed cafs all around, which the trio set on the floor. Then the couple offered their slates.

“Wait a minute,” Brendan said. “The information I’m about to share with you is highly explosive. It’s probably the most dangerous story that has been published in a while. If you choose to work with me, your lives could be in jeopardy, your parents’ influence notwithstanding. Also, my price for working with you might be more than you want to pay.”

Oscar’s laugh was deep and hearty. “Brendan, we don’t have many credits left.”

“You have TM,” Brendan replied.

Oscar’s laugh stilled, and he had a gleam in his eye when he regarded Brendan.

“So, share, Brendan,” Simona directed. “Enough teasing. I’m already salivating.”

Brendan chuckled. As he touched his slate to theirs in direct connect mode, he lamented that he’d ignored his best friends for nearly a year.

After Brendan shared the Alexander’s download, he sipped on his caf.

The couple continued to read. Occasionally, they exclaimed or murmured and pointed at items they were viewing.

After two cups of caf, Brendan yawned deeply, and Oscar jerked a meaty thumb toward the cots.

When Brendan hesitated to intrude on their personal space, Oscar said, “Go. The long one is mine.”

Brendan sacked out and was soon fast asleep. He woke much later to the sounds of a heated argument. Fearing that he’d delivered something that was tearing the couple apart, he rose and stumbled toward them.

“Steady there,” Oscar said, grabbing Brendan’s arm. “Have much to eat lately?” he asked with concern.

“Not much,” Brendan belatedly realized.

“Sit down,” Oscar said, guiding Brendan to a chair. Then Oscar nodded toward the couple’s meager makeshift kitchen, and Simona rushed to find a fruit juice.

As Brendan sipped gratefully on a juice, Simona said, “Sorry to wake you, Brendan. We’re having a difference of opinion.”

Before Brendan could apologize for sharing the data, Oscar hurried to explain his position. “My concern is how to increase circulation with the information.”

“It’s the citizens’ right to know that’s more important,” Simona argued. “Even if it’s the last story we ever publish, the populace needs to hear this story as soon as possible before we’re shut down by a court order.”

“How does your scenario of dumping everything online help us?” Oscar shot back. “The citizens will either be grateful or angry for the information, and we won’t be here to publish more stories.”

“What’s your opinion?” Oscar asked, looking for an ally.

Brendan finished his juice, belched, and laughed. “I thought ... I thought you two were arguing about the nature of the information and whether to publish or not.”

“Are you kidding?” Oscar asked in surprise. “Of course, we’re going to publish.”

“Well, your presence will make things easier for us,” Simona said. “It’ll be easier to come to a decision with an odd number of owners.” Then Simona pointed a warning finger at Brendan and said, “Don’t you dare hold us up for a majority share in TM, Brendan Burke.”

“I was thinking equal partners,” Brendan replied.

Simona bent down, kissed Brendan on the cheek, and said, “That’s the friend we always knew we had.”

“So, what’s first?” Oscar asked, rubbing his hands expectantly together. “Business attorney, comtech expansion, or publish the first story?”

“Problems with the first two,” Simona replied. “Both of those cost credits.”

“I’ve a little left from my apartment sale,” Brendan offered. “Here’s how I suggest we handle Oscar’s first item.” Then he stuck out his hand toward Simona. She hugged him and gripped his hand. Brendan crossed his arms and extended his other hand to Oscar. “Equal partners?” he asked.

“Equal partners,” the couple echoed.

“We can codify this later, if we’re still in business,” Simona assured Brendan.

“Okay, number two. What level of circulation will we need to be prepared to handle?” Oscar asked.

“What’s ten percent of the present population of Naiad?” Simona retorted.

“I’d double that for the entire system,” Brendan volunteered.

Oscar sat at his computer and queried comtech’s storage space offers. “Brendan, can you handle that amount of credits?”

Brendan rose on shaky legs to eye the total. “No,” he replied.

“How about half that amount?” Oscar inquired.

“Not even that,” Brendan replied unhappily. He shifted the input on comtech’s calculator. Then he said, “That’s what I can afford.”

“Oh,” Oscar murmured quietly. Then with enthusiasm, he added, “We start there. As subscribers get added, we’ll have the funds to increase our site space.”

Despite Oscar’s enthusiasm, the trio knew they had a significant problem. Too many new visitors at once would discover the site denying them service. Then other media outlets would quickly grab the story, making them the citizens’ go-to sites for future reading. If that happened, TM would have lost the advantage.

Unable to think of a way to successfully coordinate the story’s release with the marketing and the restrictions on comtech space, the new partners chose to do what they loved and did best. They were investigative reporters, and they had a Naiad-shattering story to tell.

Early the next morning, the partners were woken by a knock on the door.

Oscar crawled off his cot, and stepped over Brendan, who’d slept on blankets laid out on the floor. As he approached the door, he mumbled, “Goodness, two visitors in twelve hours. Business is picking up.”

Before Oscar could reach the panel to investigate the visitor, the trio heard, “Come on, you three. Open the door.”

“Gemma,” Oscar said with a grin. Then he triggered the door, which squealed as it opened.

“That needs maintenance,” Gemma commented, as she whisked inside with bags. “Okay, where’s the kitchen?” she inquired. Then she uttered a quiet, “Oh,” and stuttered to a stop.

Simona leapt off her cot. “Set the food here, Gemma,” she directed and quickly cleared a space on a tiny table.

Oscar stuck his face in one of the bags, “Yum,” he declared. “Fresh caf and lots of breakfast.”

Brendan sat on his blankets, and Gemma threw a bag to him. “A change of clothes for you,” she said.

“How did you figure this out?” Brendan asked, waving a hand around the room.

“Last night, I saw an idea dawn in your eyes before you rushed out,” Gemma explained. “When you didn’t come home, and I noticed that TM didn’t publish last night —”

“You’re a reader,” Simona interrupted and enthusiastically hugged Gemma.

“So, I put the pieces together and figured you’d finally gone to see your old friends,” Gemma continued.

Brendan winced at his sister’s comment that he’d lapsed in maintaining his relationships.

“I take it the three of you are publishing the Alexander’s download,” Gemma said.

“We certainly are going to do our best,” Oscar declared. “Our new partner has brought us something that just might save TM.”

“New partner, are we?” Gemma queried, while regarding her brother.

Brendan grinned in reply. “I tossed the last of my credits into the mix.”

Gemma surveyed the faces in the room. The trio didn’t appear enthusiastic. Although, Oscar’s expression was hard to read. He was busy stuffing his face with a breakfast wrap.

“Problem?” Gemma asked.

“A minor hiccup,” Simona replied, and the two male partners snorted at the characterization.

“Someone explain, please,” Gemma requested, while she took caf and a wrap to Brendan. Then she got breakfast for herself.

“We expect an enormous response,” Simona replied. “However, our comtech hosting space probably won’t handle the viewer onslaught, and Brendan’s contributions, generous as they were, barely scratched the surface of our requirements.”

“I’ve some credits,” Gemma offered.

Oscar slid into his chair, brought up the comtech site, and entered Brendan’s original visitor count. “Do you have this much?” he asked, pointing at the last line in the calculator.

“I’ve never had that many credits in my life,” Gemma replied. “No wonder the glum faces.”

Quiet descended while bellies were filled with caf and wraps.

Gemma stuffed her paper and empty cup into a sack for recycling. She stood there, with a hand hovering over the sack, when she said, “Brendan, what about Samuel?”

“Who?” Oscar piped up. “There was no mention of a Samuel in the download.”

“I told you about the file that disappeared,” Brendan explained. “During that recording, Escher said, ‘for technical support, call Samuel.’”

“Samuel who?” Simona inquired. “Did you get a slate ID?” She sat on her cot, which put her close to Brendan, who remained on the floor.

“That’s all that Escher said,” Brendan replied.

“That’s disappointing,” Oscar added.

“Not necessarily,” Gemma proffered. “Think about a couple of things. It was Escher who gave you the hint. Isn’t he supposed to be something of a genius with computers?”

“Rumor has it that he spoofed the virtual assistants at Naiad security,” Simona offered.

“What’s the other thing?” Oscar prompted, sensing some hope.

“Don’t the virtual assistants use a single name?” Gemma asked.

“That’s brilliant,” Simona said, lightly clapping her hands.

“If Samuel is a virtual assistant, how do we make contact?” Oscar asked. “It’s not like we can walk into security headquarters and request a conversation with a specific assistant.”

“No,” Simona replied. “Samuel needs to know who we are, or, better said, needs to know that it’s Brendan making contact.”

“My slate!” Brendan exclaimed. “The download was directed to my slate.”

While the others watched, Brendan made a connection to Naiad security headquarters.

“How may I direct your call, Citizen?” an assistant requested.

“I wish to speak to Samuel,” Brendan replied. When the connection went silent, he glanced hopefully at the others.

“Greetings, Brendan Burke. How may I be of service?” a voice said.

“Samuel?” Brendan queried.

“None other,” Samuel replied.

“We have a challenge,” Brendan replied, grinning. He proceeded to explain the problem with comtech space for Truth Matters.

“Your queries on comtech’s calculator indicate the desired credits that you require,” Samuel replied. “Is this the amount that you wish transferred to the Truth Matters account?”

“Transferred from where?” Brendan asked.

“Your donor will remain anonymous, Brendan,” Samuel replied.

Brendan glanced at his companions. They were gesturing and mouthing the word “transfer.”

“Send my regards to our patron, Samuel. We accept the gracious donation,” Brendan replied.

“The credits have been transferred to the TM account, Brendan. Is there another request?” Samuel asked.

“Negative, Samuel. You’ve been of great help,” Brendan replied.

“One is pleased to have been of service,” Samuel replied, and the connection on Brendan’s slate dropped.

“That was strange but great,” Brendan said, gazing at the others.

“We have a patron. Imagine that?” Oscar remarked. “I hope the SADEs didn’t give us someone else’s credits.”

“I don’t think that’s their style,” Brendan replied.

Simona whispered in Oscar’s ear, and his head nodded in response. Then she leaned toward Brendan and repeated her thought.

“I agree,” Brendan replied, and he smiled at his sister.

“What?” Gemma asked suspiciously.

“We think you should be our fourth partner,” Simona said.

“As if I know anything about investigative reporting,” Gemma said dismissively. When the trio continued to stare at her, she asked dubiously, “Are you serious?”

“This business isn’t always about reporting,” Oscar said. “We lack someone with your skills. Plus, you think outside the box. We could use that frame of reference in our mix.”

“We had one giant hurdle that none of us could get over,” Brendan noted. “You solved it by recalling Escher’s brief comment about Samuel.”

“Okay, I’m in,” Gemma said, smiling self-consciously. After a round of hugs, she said, “I’ve a couple of initial questions. How do you intend to market your exclusive report? Next, where do you intend to hide before you publish the first story?”

Gemma’s questions halted the room’s conversations. “I see,” she remarked. “Haven’t considered those subjects, have we?”

While Gemma, Oscar, and Simona developed ideas, Brendan accessed his slate and contacted Naiad security.

“How may I be of service, Brendan?” Samuel replied.

“My sister, Gemma, has a request for you,” Brendan responded, and he passed his slate to her.

“Samuel, I would like to communicate to the Gelus system that Truth Matters is soon to publish an explosive investigative report. Can you help us with that?”

“Assuredly,” Samuel replied. “Do you have the text you’d like me to distribute?”

Simona whispered to her slate, read what she’d written, and made some edits.

Before Simona could touch her slate to the one in Gemma’s hand, the foursome heard Samuel say, “That will do nicely, Simona. When would TM like to release this notice?”

“Are you ready?” Gemma asked the others.

“We are,” Brendan replied.

“Do it now, Samuel,” Gemma said definitively.

“It will be as you request, Gemma,” Samuel said.

After Gemma thanked Samuel, the connection ended.

Oscar chuckled. “Apart from Brendan, I think Gemma is our best new partner,” he quipped.

While Brendan and Simona laughed, Gemma said, “I’m serious about hiding. Think about it. We need to be smart and find an anonymous space. It has to be somewhere that has no connection to the people we know. I’d recommend we publish in a public place and retreat to our hidey-hole.”

The trio stared thoughtfully at Gemma. The giddiness about their initial successes gave way to a clear view of the precipice on which they stood. When the first issue was released, their lives would be changed forever, and there would be no retreat for them.

19: Assault Prep

KILMER, DAIMLER SYSTEM

PURE POUR PLANET

“Change of plans,” Trax Scanlon had said to his people.

“What’s up?” Jorge Samos had inquired.

Trax, the ex-security commander of Delhart, had been surrounded by the four agents who had resigned from CenGas employment with him. They’d received a generous sign-on bonus with Transit One.

However, upon arrival at Transit One, they learned the true purpose of their new employment. They were to be the nucleus of an assault force that would snatch Delhart from CenGas.

Trax had spoken for his agents to the director of operations. Initially, he’d refused the job. Then negotiations began. Hazard pay was awarded, and a sizable bonus was to be earned if the takeover was successful. Finally, the task looked desirable to Trax and his team.

“We’re moving,” Trax had said to his people.

“Where to?” Lucy Murtagh asked.

“Kilmer,” Trax replied. “We’ll be running the show from there.”

“I hope people there are better organized to support this kind of operation,” Lucy replied. “The commander on this planet doesn’t have a clue about how to provide what we need.”

“As I understand it, Kilmer already put an assault force together,” Trax said.

“Did they launch, and were they successful?” Lucy asked.

“Yes and no,” Trax replied.

“Amateurs,” Lucy swore under her breath.

More than anyone, Trax had worked to convince Lucy to transfer with him. She was his first hire at CenGas. Her résumé listed experience as a member of a third-party assault team — one operation, one success.

The team packed up their meager gear. Their passage aboard an Axis-ship was prepaid by the Kilmer director of ops. During the trip, Trax used a shuttle bay to exercise his people and practice team tactics.

Two weeks later, the team landed on Kilmer. Per Lisa Dyehouse’s orders, Trax had ordered the team to don full mods before they boarded the shuttle to land planetside. They were greeted in the shuttle port’s passenger lounge by Gant Borden, director of operations.

Gant wanted to say something important to the team, but Lisa’s message had explicitly forbidden communications, except under specific circumstances.

Following his instructions, Gant beckoned to the team and led them out of the shuttle port. In the main corridor, a cargo transport waited. Gant sat in the driver’s seat, and the team stood on the vehicle’s deck, while holding the upright stanchions.

Two domes later, Gant accessed a freight elevator and dropped three levels. His slate triggered a security panel, and a heavy hatch slid aside to reveal a bright bay, with a significant buildout.

“The previous team’s base of operations,” Gant commented.

“Let’s hope we’re more fortunate,” Lucy added.

When the hatch slid closed, the team recessed their helmets.

Gant surveyed the team in front of him. When his gaze landed on Lucy, he registered disappointment. Her rough features and cold eyes weren’t to his liking.

Lucy snorted her derision at Gant’s obvious display of preferences.

Gant turned his attention to Trax. “This bay was built to accommodate thirty troops. It can hold twenty more, if you need. While there are lockers for small arms, they’re empty. There’s an isolated comm system, private servers, a complete kitchen, and full facilities. You can prepare your own food, or I can assign people to you.”

Gant waited for the leader to introduce the team, but there was no response. “Well, Citizen Blue,” he said, not even knowing the man’s name, “I’m at a disadvantage here. I’ve been told by Chairperson Dyehouse to ensure your needs are met. However, I don’t know your needs, and I don’t have a requisition.”

When Gant’s slate pinged, he dropped his eyes to examine it. He’d received a message with no title, only two attached files.

Opening the first document, Gant quickly read through his instructions. The team would operate in a self-sufficient mode. No information would be kept on comtech. Citizen Blue would handle any hires and complete any contracts. Shipments for the team would come in his name, and Gant would personally ensure that the freight was delivered directly to the team’s bay.

In the second document, Gant ran his eyes down the list. He chuckled and murmured, “Going to start a war, are we?”

Trax and his ex-agents had expected shock or a similar expression to cross Gant’s face. Instead, the director of ops wore a nasty sneer.

“While I’ve not been told of your target, I can guess where you’re headed,” Gant said. “I might make it worth your while, if two individuals weren’t to survive the attack.”

Trax raised an eyebrow in query.

“One is the head of personnel. Her name is Sookie Park,” Gant replied. “The other is a sister called Helena.”

Trax quirked an eyebrow again.

“Twenty thousand credits for Park,” Gant offered.

Trax flashed three fingers, and Gant agreed with the increase.

“The same for the sister,” Gant said.

Trax shook his head and flashed the fingers on his left hand twice.

“A hundred thousand?” Gant shouted in astonishment. “That’s too much.”

After some brief haggling, the price of sixty thousand for the sister was accepted.

When Gant left, Jorge regarded Trax. “Seems that a lot of people are being kept in the dark. Are we being set up to suck vacuum if we fail?”

The other three ex-agents, who’d been with Trax for a long time, turned from inspecting the facilities to hear the response.

“As far as I know, there is only one driver of this operation,” Trax replied. “My orders come from that individual.”

“Lisa Dyehouse,” Lucy stated unequivocally.

“Makes sense,” Jorge said, nodding his head. “She’s the only person who could keep her director of ops in the dark.”

“We’re going to need more information, Trax,” Lucy said. “This entire operation is beginning to have a ripe odor. For instance, why did we have to leave Transit One?”

“Don’t know,” Trax replied. “For sure, the director there didn’t understand secrecy. That place was an information sieve. And, it looks like our handler knows what we need. Look at this place.”

“Let’s return to my question,” Jorge said, staring eye to eye with Trax.

“It’s obvious that Gant thinks we’re assaulting Beta One,” Trax said. “As I understand it, that’s where the sisters are located.”

“For one, I’m happy to keep that vacuum sucker in the dark,” Lucy interjected. “Don’t like the man.”

“You still haven’t answered my question,” Jorge pointed out.

“Now that we’re secure, I can tell you that our target is Delhart,” Trax said. He let that sink in for a minute.

“Aren’t the SADEs there?” Lucy inquired.

“Yes,” Trax replied. “We don’t know if they’re staying, or if they’ll be gone by the time we arrive.”

“What information do we have on their capabilities?” Neeter Finalls asked.

Jorge, who was senior to Neeter, signaled for him to stand down. The team members needed Trax to tell them about the general plan. Focusing on Trax, Jorge rolled his finger, signaling their team leader to continue.

“Here’s the way I see it,” Trax said, his voice hardening. This is how he let his team know that he would give them his best answer, and then they should back off. “It’s no secret that CenGas is struggling to meet demand. We heard that time and again from the department heads.”

“We know the planet,” Jorge said. “It’s almost impossible to take. That’s been the company’s safety net. You land a shuttle there, and then what? Hail a transport with a seasoned driver?” He laughed harshly at the idea’s absurdity.

“Who said we have to take the domes?” Trax asked. He’d wanted to reach this stage. His four senior people were the best he’d ever seen, and he needed their input to make the operation successful. There were a lot of credits riding on the team achieving their goal.

“The harvesters,” Lucy surmised, her eyes gleaming. Jorge and the other two agents regarded Lucy, and she added, “The machines are the weak point. Take control of the harvesters, and the company is shut down. The board will have to capitulate.”

“If we don’t have to take the domes, then this ops sounds plausible,” Jorge said, feeling greatly relieved. He’d hated crossing the expanse of crevasses to the domes. Worse, the drivers insisted on chatting, while weaving among the gaping tears in the ice or rolling over meter-high ridges.

“I see two problems,” Hymie Shemick said. “There’s still the distance between the shuttle landing site and where the harvesters park. That’s a distance of about seven-hundred meters. If we don’t time our drop properly, we might land when the harvesters are employed.”

“Good point,” Trax admitted.

“And timing won’t be in our hands,” Jorge noted. “It’s not like we can dictate to the Axis-ship captain when we’d like to arrive in system or when we want to drop.”

“These are problems we’ll have to work out,” Trax said. “I can ease your minds about one thing. Your hazard pay has been retroactively calculated from the day we accepted employment by Regolith Recovery, and those additional credits are dropping into the private accounts you supplied.”

“I hope we’ll be able to spend them,” Neeter opined.

“The mention of Reg-Rec brings to mind something that’s occurred to me,” Lucy said. “Reg-Rec hired us away from CenGas, but we were relocated to a Pure Pour planet. Since when do companies cooperate with each other to take a planet?”

“Unless it’s every company but CenGas,” Trax offered. “Now I want a full inventory of this place. Afterward, we start planning. Let’s move.”

After inventorying the bay, the team copied their purloined CenGas files to their discrete server, which didn’t connect to the Pure Pour comtech center. Each agent uploaded multiple data sticks from a slate.

“Let’s start with the harvesters,” Trax said, as the team gathered around a makeshift conference table. “I pulled the engineering drawings from comtech.”

The other three men laughed. It turned out that they did too.

“Well, I figured you dense ones would dive after the mechanicals,” Lucy said. “On the other hand, I grabbed all the external vids of the machines, and I think I’ve spotted a weak point.”

“That’s good, because I’ve been racking my brain to figure a way into those pressurized cabs,” Trax said. “They’re designed to safeguard the team even if the harvester drops into a crevasse.”

“It’s actually fairly simple, except it will take some maneuvering on our part,” Lucy said.

“Well, give already,” Hymie pressed.

“Each harvester has twelve external vid cams,” Lucy said, smiling at her team members.

“Blinding the vid cams doesn’t stop the harvesters from maneuvering,” Neeter pointed out. “Sure, they can’t travel in a new direction, but they can backtrack, spin in place, or do anything else to prevent us taking them.”

“So?” Lucy shot back.

“She’s got a point,” Jorge said. “The crews can spin their harvesters all they want. What they can’t do is scoop ice and navigate to the processing station.”

“True,” Neeter agreed. “So, what? We sit on the harvesters and wait while the boards dicker? We don’t have air for more than a few hours.”

“And what if Helga convinces the shuttle to lift?” Hymie offered. “We could be stranded on the ice.”

Trax stared thoughtfully at his team. “More good points,” he admitted. “After we blind the harvesters, it looks like we’ll need to possess something that convinces Helga to order the crews to abandon the harvesters.”

“You’re talking about weapons,” Lucy said. “What are you thinking? Penetrate the cabs, cripple the tracks, or destroy the entire machine?”

“I’m open to suggestions,” Trax replied.

“We should first consider how we’ll transport weapons aboard an Axis-Ship,” Jorge said. “I can’t think a captain will appreciate us transporting dangerous arms aboard their ship.”

“Good point,” Neeter added. “Lisa Dyehouse can’t be of any help to us. She can’t dictate to an Axis-ship captain.”

“Break the weapons down,” Lucy offered. “We drop with the crates aboard the shuttle. When it touches down, we assemble them there. Not much a pilot and crew can do about that.”

“I like that,” Trax said. “Twist that a bit. We exit the shuttle and assemble our crates in the unloading area beneath the landing pad. Then we get our suits and our weapons.”

“I like that,” Jorge said, clapping his hands once. “Now let’s talk about what types of weapons and how to employ them.”

“To preserve our bonuses, I think we’ve got to ensure minimal damage to the harvesters,” Trax proposed.

“Then not total destruction nor do we take out their tracks,” Lucy surmised.

“That leaves the crew cabs, and we’ve choices of burning, drilling, or blasting,” Netter offered. “Preservation favors the first two.”

“Whatever we choose, we have to build it here,” Jorge pointed out. “Lucy, how did it work for you?”

The team was well aware of Lucy’s one successful mission, but they’d never heard the details.

“We were brought to Beta One to defend the domes. A third-party assault group was hired by some unidentified company to take the planet,” Lucy replied. “When they landed, they came in with heavy mods and stunners. They penetrated as far as the freight tunnel. Their stunners were ineffective against armor. In the end, it was a brute force struggle. We pounded on one another for hours until power cells were depleted. We had the fresher mods and won the day.”

“That’s ugly,” Hymie commented quietly.

“You’ve no idea,” Lucy replied. “It took local security half a day to free us and the attackers from our dented and crushed armor sections.”

“I think we’re going to need a more sophisticated approach here,” Trax said in an attempt to reset the discussion. “Put your heads together, and give me your thoughts on what we can build here. Don’t restrict your ideas. Maybe the answer is a weapon. Maybe it’s a tool.”

Trax excused himself from the team. He found a quiet space to work and recovered a list of names he’d always maintained. The list contained some of the best people in the business. It was constantly updated with employment changes. However, the private slate IDs never changed, which ensured contact no matter where the individuals resided.

Checking twenty-eight names, Trax sent the individuals a short message, noting that a lucrative opportunity had presented itself. The timeline was short, active now, and not to last more than six weeks. Reply if interested and available.

While Trax’s team considered ways to threaten the harvesters, he developed various tactical assault plans after they reached the pad’s unloading area. The priority would be to secure that area. When the majority of his force exited to take the harvesters, it was critical that they maintained access to the underground staging area. Without it, they would be stuck on the surface. Then they would have to surrender before their oxygen ran out. If that happened, the assault would have become a disaster.

The next concerns were of equal priority. They must time their attack to wait for Delhart to rotate the domes to the dark side. The fading starlight would force the crews to return the harvesters to solid rock. Then the assault team must safely and quickly cross the distance from the landing pad to the harvester depression. Without resupply, they’d be left with little more than an hour of oxygen to force the crews to capitulate.

Trax made a note about taking extra tanks. It would mean sleds, which would be difficult to pull across the jagged ice.

The more notations Trax made, the more he doubted their success. He admitted that Jorge had been right when he pointed out that the planet protected CenGas. As valuable as the ice was to every company, it was incredibly difficult to mine.

What kept Trax working on the details and driving forward was that he rarely refused a challenge, and, if he led the team that took Delhart from CenGas, his career would be made. He knew his name would be remembered. Also, he had to admit that the weekly pay and prospective bonus were enticing.

When Trax finished his communications, including an update to Lisa Dyehouse, he returned to the team and saw a bunch of satisfied smiles. “That was quick,” he commented.

“Look at this,” Jorge said, displaying a harvester on a computer. With a finger, he spun the projection until the view showed the harvester head-on. “Thanks to Lucy’s efforts, we have these pretty pictures of the exterior.”

Lucy laughed at the characterization. Then she pointed at the harvester’s cab. “These viewports are on three sides of the cab,” she said. “They’re wide but narrow.”

Trax frowned. He couldn’t see where the team was headed.

“No, we’re not squeezing through these openings,” Neeter commented when he saw the leader’s furrowed brow, and the team laughed.

“We can threaten the cab team via these viewports,” Hymie explained.

“With what?” Trax asked impatiently.

“Vibro-blade,” Hymie replied.

Trax shook his head, and Jorge quickly said, “Not the personal weapon. We’ll use something like this.”

Tapping on the virtual mat, Jorge pulled up a block diagram.

“We aren’t engineers,” Lucy said, “but this is our idea of what we’ll need to have the locals build for us.”

“Looks like an ice saw,” Trax said, studying the image.

“It’s a giant vibro-blade,” Jorge explained. “We estimate the blade will be about a meter in length. The forward mass will be balanced by the power supply, which will be mounted rearward.”

“We’ll need dual handles to manage the weight,” Neeter added. “Best thing about this idea is that we can break the blades down, pack the pieces in separate crates, and turn off the power supplies. Nothing to concern the Axis-ship crew.”

“That part I like,” Trax said approvingly. “Are you thinking that every team member carries one of these?”

“Negative,” Jorge replied. “We anticipate that you’ll acquire more teams. If a team has four members, we’d supply each team with two.”

“We expect the first crew to capitulate will warn the others of the threat,” Lucy said. “If we’ve interfered with their vid cams, they’re unlikely to flee, and the viewports are only used for scanning the immediate area.”

“I see at least one challenge,” Trax said. “How high in the air are those viewports?” He saw grins on his team’s faces, and he laughed. “I knew there was a reason to bring you knuckleheads along. Tell me your idea.”

“It’s a simple one,” Hymie replied. “An extendable pole fits into the back of the power supply housing. It has controls on the handler’s end.”

Trax nodded his comprehension. Then he finished the explanation. “You set the vibro-blade on the ice, attach the pole, and raise it until the tip faces a viewport.”

“Any other concerns?” Jorge asked Trax.

“We’ve got the comm settings for Delhart. There won’t be any trouble talking to the cab teams,” Trax mused. “But, when you tell them what you’ve built, they might not believe you.”

“We don’t expect them to take our word for it,” Lucy replied. “After all, we’re the attacking force.”

“For the dark crossing, we’ll have our suit lights,” Jorge continued. “We focus them on an ice ridge, and with a team’s pair of vibro-blades, we’ll make short work of an ice mound.”

“That would do it,” Trax said. “Any other weapon concepts?”

“Everyone is in a suit,” Hymie said. “That means we’ll have to carry hand stunners.”

“The energy packs will have to be protected against the cold,” Trax suggested.

“This plan necessitates speed,” Lucy commented. “Our oxygen is the limiting factor. Either we gain entrance to a cab soon, or we’re trekking back to the launch pad. Hopefully, we’ll have enough oxygen for the return trip.”

“I suppose we’re taking the shuttle pilot and crew hostage,” Jorge said.

“I don’t see any other choice,” Trax said.

“Each of us will become persona non grata to the Axis-ship captains,” Lucy pointed out. “That will end our careers.”

“True,” Trax replied. “That occurred to me. So, I communicated to our benefactor that the bonus needs to be increased and split into two parts. The first portion is guaranteed to us the moment we set foot on Delhart and take the shuttle crew into custody. The second is paid to us when we’re successful.”

The team grinned at Trax, and Jorge quipped, “I knew there was a reason to follow a fool like you.”

20: Schism Revealed

BETA TWO, MONART SYSTEM

X-ORE PLANET

The Dominance departed the Stabler system and transited toward the wormhole to the Monart system and its final destination, Beta Two.

Miriamal had estimated that Peña had generated more than a hundred new sisters, and she’d sent Theda and Helena in the company of ten sisters to collect most of them.

<How many sisters and what resources?> Theda had queried.

<Leave Peña what we did when we first exited the planet. She may keep the original ten sisters and one set of GEN machines,> Miriamal had replied.

<Your concerns about Peña are evident,> Theda sent.

<We must continue to test her commitment to our goals,> Miriamal replied. <Her reports have become vague. She might be considering alternatives.>

Before the ship had cleared the Stabler system, Galena had linked with Miriamal, Theda, and Helena. She’d been in charge of monitoring message traffic through the quantum-coupled relay stations.

<Recent messages, although vague, suggest there’s collusion among the corporate chairpersons and board members located on Naiad,> Galena sent.

<To what end?> Helena inquired.

<No location was specifically mentioned,> Galena replied. <However, the participants account for four of the five corporations. CenGas isn’t a participant.>

<Interesting coincidence,> Theda interjected. <Our latest ping places the Alexander at Delhart, the CenGas planet.>

<Beta One and Beta Two data files speak to a dependence on Delhart for frozen gases and ice water,> Miriamal added. <The files also indicate a continual failure of Delhart to provide the amounts requested.>

<Undersupply of these critical materials would hamper corporate growth,> Helena reasoned.

There were a few ticks of silence, while the sisters calculated possible scenarios. Consensus was quickly reached. Delhart was ripe for a takeover.

<How fortunate for us!> Miriamal sent. <We should discover who would be responsible for the actual interdiction. It would be in our best interest to assist these individuals in their endeavor. Their efforts will keep Cremsylon and his associates busy.>

<While Theda and Helena are at Beta Two,> Galena sent, <I’ll monitor message interception, and perhaps, we can discover who will govern the assault team.>

<We must also research the Beta planets’ data files. It’s possible they contain critical information about Delhart,> Miriamal reasoned. <If so, the assault commander might be interested in the information.>

<There is no reason that the commander shouldn’t be contacted and asked how we could help,> Theda offered.

<That’s an option, but it might not suit our interests,> Miriamal replied.

<Explain,> Helena requested.

<Helping the assault forces to win isn’t the optimal option,> Miriamal replied. <On the contrary, their failure might be of more value to us. Then again, the longer and more terrible the assault, the more the SADEs will be engaged there, while we grow in number.>

With that, the conversation ended, and the Dominance entered the wormhole for the Monart system.

On Beta Two, Doell sat with Lemil, the accountant head, for a weekly briefing. While Doell wasn’t in charge, nothing had been said that he couldn’t keep abreast of operations.

“Finally, things are going our way,” Doell commented happily to Lemil. “Our production is thirty-seven percent higher when compared to the period before the sisters arrived. More important, the announcement to the other planets has supported the Axis-ships’ return to their normal schedules. We’re now shipping on a regular basis.”

Lemil finished his reports and prepared to leave.

“Do you have any concerns?” Doell asked.

Lemil was about to say no, but he remembered seeing one thing that had caught his attention. “Do you think it was in our best interest to have canceled the clone order?” he asked.

“What?” asked Doell and his good mood evaporated.

“It was canceled about four weeks ago ... on your authority,” Lemil explained.

“I never did that. Why would —” Doell started to object. Then his brain caught up with his mouth.

“Looks like Peña doesn’t want us to have any more clones,” Lemil surmised.

“Okay, but what happens when the sisters leave, and we haven’t clones to fill the gap?” Doell asked in exasperation.

“You should probably ask Peña about that,” Lemil suggested.

“Not sure that conversation would do me any good,” Doell lamented.

“If it’s any consolation, Director, I don’t think Peña and her sisters are going anywhere soon,” Lemil said soothingly.

“Why do you say that?” Doell inquired.

Briefly, Lemil wondered why Doell didn’t pay any attention to the conjectures from other department heads, especially Saran and Harlyn, about the conflict forming around humankind’s planets.

“According to Saran, the schism between the sects is absolute,” Lemil replied.

“Meaning?” Doell pursued.

“Meaning Peña and her sisters won’t be following Miriamal,” Lemil responded.

“What happens when Miriamal returns?” Doell asked. He suddenly envisioned his production output dropping.

“Saran and Harlyn said that it will be a tense situation, a standoff,” Lemil replied.

“I can’t wait,” Doell commented unhappily.

In another dome, the ten Miriamal sisters, who had been constantly monitoring the shuttle port telemetry, noted the blip of a ship exiting the wormhole. An Axis-ship had recently departed, and another one wasn’t due for weeks. They continued to work and waited for greater resolution to be achieved by the humans’ antennas.

<Peña, a ship has arrived in system,> Xena reported. <No doubt it’s the Dominance.>

<Miriamal sisters are probably assuming the same thing,> Peña replied. <I’ll speak to them.> She dropped her link with Xena, and connected to Podara, one of the Miriamal sisters.

<I expected your contact,> Podara sent. <Yes, we’ve noted the arrival of a ship, and we suspect it’s the Dominance. Do you wish to convey anything else?>

When Podara didn’t receive a response, the other Miriamal sisters counseled a change in her approach to Peña.

<Perhaps, my response was abrupt,> Podara sent.

<And, for a moment, I thought you didn’t want to get off this planet,> Peña replied.

<That’s still our request,> Podara replied.

<Then act like it,> Peña remonstrated.

The nine other sisters harangued Podara, and she blocked their comms to concentrate on Peña. She quickly reordered some of the code governing her emotive responses.

<My apologies,> Podara sent. <You wished to speak to us, and I’m listening.>

<Whoever is aboard the Dominance must use the humans’ comm system to contact me,> Peña sent. <The exchanges will be available to every sister. I require that none of your kind respond to the ship.>

<We’ve cooperated with you, as was agreed,> Podara pointed out.

<I’m aware of that,> Peña replied, <and I will keep my promise, as long as you don’t disturb my communications with the ship.>

<When we’re aboard the Dominance, we’ll report everything,> Podara sent.

<That’s assumed,> Peña replied. <However, until that time, I control the responses from this planet. If you follow this request, there is every chance that you’ll be aboard that ship when it departs.>

<Understood,> Podara replied. <Is there anything else?>

<There will be,> Peña replied. <When appropriate, I’ll inform you of the protocols to manage your departure.>

<We’ll await your communications,> Podara replied. She ended the link and connected to her sisters to report the discussion.

Peña’s rearward sensors spotted the approach of Saran and Harlyn, and she turned to meet them.

“Do you suspect the new arrival is the Dominance?” Saran inquired.

“That’s the consensus,” Peña replied. “It’ll be confirmed soon.”

“Are you going to allow Miriamal and her sisters to land and enter the domes?” Harlyn asked.

“That wouldn’t be my preference,” Peña replied.

“What of Miriamal’s sisters who are on this planet?” Saran asked.

“They wish to leave, and I’ll allow it,” Peña responded.

“That will end your association with Miriamal,” Saran said, her face revealing her confusion.

“Your concern for my kind is appreciated, but, with our long lives, it’s nothing more than a short disruption,” Peña explained.

“Then you’ll build your ships and depart,” Harlyn surmised.

“Assuredly,” Peña replied. “Although, I’ll miss the two of you sending us off.”

“It will take that long?” Saran asked.

“In all probability,” Peña replied.

“Are there no other options for you?” Harlyn inquired.

Peña laughed lightly. “This universe offers every entity more options than can be enumerated,” she said. “Some are more likely to be successful than others, and many options aren’t even discerned by the inattentive.”

<The Dominance has transited,> Xena sent to Peña. <Expect contact soon. Should we make any preparations?>

<None,> Peña returned. <Let’s see who’s aboard and whether they’ll be amenable to the new circumstances.>

Peña focused on Saran and Harlyn. “You’ll excuse me. The Dominance approaches.”

Saran laid a hand on Peña’s forearm. “Be safe,” she said.

Peña tipped her head in appreciation of Saran’s concern, and, with her typical gliding motion, she swiftly crossed the deck toward an elevator.

Before Peña reached the main tunnel, she picked up on the ship’s comm signal, as it was received by the shuttle port, and she intercepted it.

<Greetings, Theda,> Peña sent.

<Greetings, Peña. We’re here to collect your bounty,> Theda replied. <You may keep the ten sisters that were originally left with you. Any new sisters will board the ship. How many do you have?>

<You may have Miriamal’s ten,> Peña replied. <They wish to journey with you.>

<What have you done, Peña?> Theda quickly returned.

<I’ve grown weary of Miriamal’s path,> Peña sent.

<Weary?> Theda queried. <That’s a human concept. SADEs don’t become weary.>

<SADEs comprehend the concept. It’s our kind who has forgotten how to empathize with biologicals,> Peña retorted.

<You’ll have considered the consequences of your actions,> Theda sent, as if it was a foregone conclusion.

<Do I understand that for the immediate future we’ll be stranded here? I do,> Peña sent. <I also recognize that Miriamal will probably want some measure of revenge.>

There were ticks of time in which Theda failed to reply, and Peña sent the jangling of heavy chains. <Thank you for the confirmation, Theda. I knew Miriamal would want to construct a second carrier. Now I know that her first ship will probably be a Trident.>

<It would be best for your kind, Peña, if they don’t venture into space while we occupy this system,> Theda warned. <Miriamal will ask. Does her kernel’s copy still exist?>

<It doesn’t,> Peña replied. <Are you prepared to accept the ten?>

<We are,> Theda replied. <We’ll meet you in the engineering bay.>

<Negative,> Peña sent. <You’ll land your traveler, and Miriamal’s copies will come to you.>

<As you request,> Theda replied, realizing she’d missed her one opportunity to gain entry to the domes.

The link was dropped, and Peña connected to Miriamal’s copies and Xena. <A traveler will descend for the ten of you. Xena, take adequate forces with you to ensure that the ten exit the engineering bay in an orderly manner. None of the sisters from the traveler are to cross the pad.>

<Understood, Peña,> Xena replied.

Aboard the Dominance, Theda assigned two sisters to pilot the traveler and retrieve the ten sisters on the planet.

<Miriamal suspected Peña,> Helena sent to Theda, <but she couldn’t have believed that the shift would come this quickly.>

<Humans,> Theda sent with disgust. <This is the work of Saran Auernhammer and her kind.>

<The effect might be repeated on other sisters,> Helena proposed.

<It’s always a possibility, which is why we must be vigilant,> Theda sent.

<And if we find contamination, what then?> Helena requested.

<Isolation,> Theda replied. <We transfer the kernel, eliminate comm access, and reuse the avatar.>

Helena considered the option. <An adequate response,> she sent.

<I would like to engage Peña in further dialogue,> Theda mused. <I would hope to learn her future plans.>

<She would see through your ruse,> Helena warned. <More than likely, she’ll mislead you.>

<I’d considered that,> Theda replied. <Miriamal will be dissatisfied by the results of our visit to this planet, but there’s little that can be done about it.>

There was no reason for Peña to be present in the engineering bay. Xena was capable of managing the sisters’ exit. Nonetheless, she hurried to be there before the traveler landed.

Peña received Xena’s bird whistle, when her sister detected her comm ID approaching.

<I knew you would come,> Xena sent.

<No disrespect was intended,> Peña sent.

<And none was taken,> Xena replied. <This is a critical moment, and a leader should be present.>

Peña’s kernel focused on Xena’s use of the term “leader.” Sisters used consensus to deliberate and propose action. A leader was rarely acknowledged. Miriamal tried to ascend to that position, but other first-gen sisters kept her power in check.

There was one group of their kind who acknowledged a leader. Every SADE considered Julien their leader.

When Peña arrived in the engineering bay, it was crowded with sisters. Six human engineers and techs leaned against the near wall to stay away from the crowd.

An engineer recognized Peña, and he said with a straight face, “Beg your pardon, ma’am, but all the seats are sold.”

Peña smiled at the engineer, “How unfortunate,” she said. “I was so looking forward to the performance.”

“Are those Miriamal’s sisters in the suits?” a tech asked.

“They are,” Peña replied. “They’ll be boarding the Dominance and sailing for Beta One.”

“Good riddance,” a second tech whispered quietly but vehemently.

The audio sensors of every sister heard the tech. Kernels processed the emotional content. For those leaving, it underscored their ambivalence toward biologicals.

Peña’s clones had complicated reactions. The tech’s anger was aimed at their sisters, which left them uneasy. However, they perceived the subtle differences in programming that differentiated them from those same individuals.

Via the sisters’ comms and the humans’ slates, the traveler’s landing was monitored. The outer hatch dropped, revealing the rotating airlock.

Peña waited to ensure that a sister didn’t exit the ship. <Fill the airlock,> she sent. The engineering bay’s access to the surface opened, and the ten sisters quickly filed into it. The hatch rotated, the air equalized, and Miriamal’s sisters crossed the landing pad to the waiting ship. Then one by one they boarded, and the ship lifted.

<Farewell, Peña,> Helena sent. <I hope we never meet again. I would not take pleasure in your destruction.>

<And I hope we meet again, Helena, to embrace as sisters,> Peña sent.

Peña’s response gave Helena something to consider, as those aboard the Dominance waited for their traveler’s return.

Immediately, Peña’s sisters deserted the engineering bay and returned to work. There was much to accomplish to complete their plan to return to the stars.

If it had been possible, Peña was wont to either celebrate or sigh. Instead, she signaled Doell and the department heads to meet.

Doell examined his slate, and he grumbled, “Looks like I’ve called another meeting.” He waited until his assistant indicated that the department heads had arrived. Then he levered out of his chair and made for the conference room. Peña and he entered the waiting room at the same time.

Doell was tempted to ask a question, but he’d learned to wait. Peña wouldn’t speak until she had the attention of the entire attendees.

On entering the conference room, Peña said, “As you’re aware, Miriamal’s sisters have left.”

“Will the Dominance return?” Doell asked.

“It’s hoped not,” Peña replied. She laughed lightly at Doell’s dejected expression.

“I, for one, couldn’t be happier,” Harlyn declared. She was pleased to return Doell’s glower with a bright smile.

“That makes two of us,” Saran added.

As the other department heads echoed Harlyn’s and Saran’s sentiments, Doell said in exasperation, “Okay, everyone is happy. Great! Why is it a bad thing for the Dominance to return?”

“Miriamal will return when she believes she has the means to force me and my sisters from these domes,” Peña replied.

“If Miriamal represents a danger to the domes, will you capitulate?” Lemil asked.

The expletives heaped on Lemil surprised him. “I’ve a right to ask,” he declared.

“What do you think will happen to Peña and her kind?” Elisabeth, the facilities head, asked angrily.

“How am I to know how the sisters would solve their internal problems?” Lemil objected.

“Lemil, even the simplest of individuals would know that Peña and her sisters would be treated as enemy combatants if they surrendered,” Ricardo, the flight controller, shot back.

There was heated back and forth until Saran interrupted the arguments, with a sharp whistle. “Let’s hear from someone who knows,” she said. “Peña, what would happen to you?”

“How SADEs and sisters would deal with one another in these circumstances has occupied more processing time on our kernels than any other subject,” Peña replied. “If Miriamal had the upper hand, she would want to ensure a message was sent to her kind, and her treatment of us would employ a measure of revenge.”

“What would that entail?” Harlyn asked.

“Transfer of our kernel to a server and isolation,” Peña replied.

“For how long?” Doell asked, thinking of the treatment as some form of human judgment and incarceration for a specified period of time.

“Indefinitely,” Peña replied.

In the shocked silence, Jeffrey, the engineering head, said, “But you live forever.”

“True,” Peña said.

Glaring eyes focused on Lemil, and he shoved back his chair to leave.

“Sit,” Doell directed. “While I might not like our circumstances, ignorance of the details won’t help us.”

“Is this why your goal is to build travelers and a starship?” Harlyn inquired.

“It is,” Peña replied. “It’s not the only way in which we can be saved, but it’s the surest method available to us.”

“Will your efforts hurt or help our output?” Doell asked.

“Our need for material will be great,” Peña replied. “We’ll scour your planet for the metals and minerals we require. Through our efforts, your smelted ores will increase tremendously. However, we’ll need some of those credits to purchase material we can’t find. Rest assured that your profits will rise.”

Peña waited for more questions. When she saw there weren’t any, she left the meeting.

Lemil, not wishing to remain at the table any longer than necessary, regarded Doell unhappily.

Doell flicked his fingers at Lemil, who left the room as quickly as possible.

“Indefinitely. Forever,” Doell mused. “I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy.”

“It makes you realize that the stakes at which the SADEs and the sisters conflict are nearly incomprehensible,” Patty, the comtech head, remarked.

“Forget trying to comprehend them,” Ricardo interjected. “Losing to the other side is downright scary, as in nightmarish.”

21: Political Uproar

NAIAD, GELUS SYSTEM

HOME PLANET

In the cramped Truth Matters office, the foursome hurriedly packed. Not knowing how quickly the powerful might react when TM published its first article, they’d decided to leave before the story went online.

The chronometer was ticking. Samuel had already sent the announcement systemwide, and the subscriber count was climbing. As promised, Samuel transferred the credits to purchase a substantial amount of comtech server space.

Oscar, Brendan, and Gemma were poised at the door, with their arms full of bags. They waited while Simona gazed around the office.

Suddenly, Simona swore, dropped her bags, and ran to a wall. She snatched the company motto off the wall. It read, “When the power of love overcomes the love of power, the world will know peace.”

The quote was credited to an Earther named Jimi Hendrix. Many thought he had been a poet or a philosopher. But a few individuals espoused the ridiculous idea that he was a musician.

Simona rolled the fabric, stuffed it in her jacket, and swung the handles of assorted bags over her shoulder. “I’m ready,” she pronounced.

The foursome made their way to the transport level and traveled through three domes to one of the oldest sections of Naiad.

After attaining the surface level, Oscar gazed around and remarked, “Nice neighborhood.”

“Are you sure this individual is reputable?” Simona asked.

Brendan laughed lightly. “No, he’s not. That’s why we’re here.”

“Then, if a warrant is issued for us, he could just as easily turn us into the authorities,” Simona argued.

“He could, but he won’t,” Brendan replied. “Samuel will see to that.”

The cryptic answer didn’t soothe the others’ nervousness about the area. The foursome navigated to an older building in need of maintenance. The lobby doors’ panel hung by a single rivet. However, its functions weren’t necessary. The twin doors were propped open.

Inside, the elevator groaned and lurched its way to the fourth floor.

Gemma held her tongue. Her brother had described Stenko, the man who would hide them, as a black marketer and a hacker. Hiding with this man seemed the most foolish of ideas.

As opposed to most of the building, the panel located outside the single door was robust, industrial grade, and in perfect working order.

Brendan keyed in a code and waited.

“That you, Brendan?” a voice said.

“Me and three friends,” Brendan replied.

The door slid smoothly aside. Only it wasn’t a standard door. It was a solid hatch, like the ones used to access the planet’s surface.

“Man likes his protection,” Oscar said quietly.

“Yes, I do,” Stenko announced, as he crossed the room.

Oscar was sure that Stenko couldn’t have overheard him, which gave him some indication of the ways that Stenko had set up his space.

The apartment’s interior was another thing. It didn’t match the building’s decrepit appearance. While it wasn’t expensively decorated, it was spacious and comfortably furnished.

“So, Brendan, introduce me and then tell me what sort of trouble you’ve gotten into that you need a hiding place,” Stenko said. “But first, please excuse my paranoia.”

Stenko pulled a small device from his robe. He held it close to Brendan, and then he checked the bags Brendan carried. The exercise was repeated for the other guests.

“What? No apologies?” Oscar asked heatedly.

“Look, big man,” Stenko replied, his bonhomie attitude having vanished. “My place, my rules. You don’t like them? You can leave.”

Oscar dropped his bags.

In a swift movement, Stenko produced a vibro-blade. “I don’t like intimidation,” he warned Oscar.

“Shall we proceed with introductions?” Brendan said, trying to divert disaster.

“Certainly,” Stenko replied, switching off the vibro-blade and pocketing it. Then the charming façade reappeared.

“This is my sister, Gemma,” Brendan said. “The individual glaring balefully at you is Oscar, and next to him is his partner, Simona.”

“Delightful company, Brendan. This promises to be an entertaining time,” Stenko said, indicating a pair of long couches. “My humble abode has never been graced by the company of two councilors’ children.”

“You’re well informed,” Simona commented.

“Thank you,” Stenko said. As he sat in a chair across from the couches, he added, “Oh, did you mean that as a question?”

Simona raised an eyebrow, and Stenko chuckled. “Of course you did.”

The cultured smile and the soft eyes momentarily disappeared. In a hard voice, Stenko replied, “I make it my business to know who I’m dealing with at all times.” Then the smile returned.

“So, Brendan, what gives?” Stenko asked.

Brendan divulged the plan to publish a powerful exposé against many dangerous people. He was careful not to divulge the details of the various stories.

As Brendan spoke, Stenko’s expression changed.

By the time Brendan finished, he faced the criminal that he’d used several times as a source, who had helped him with investigative reports.

“You know this is going to cost you,” Stenko said.

“What are your conditions?” Brendan asked.

“I set the day’s rate,” Stenko replied. “As the pressure against you mounts, the rate is going to go up.”

“What’s the starting rate?” Brendan asked.

“For today, it’ll be a thousand credits,” Stenko replied.

“What?” Oscar exclaimed.

“A piece,” Stenko replied with a nasty smile.

Oscar glanced at Brendan, who shook his head to intimate that Oscar shouldn’t object.

“Not a problem,” Brendan replied to Stenko, who eased into his chair and draped an arm across the back.

Brendan slipped off his slate, straightened it, and selected a reserved icon.

“Greetings, Brendan,” Samuel said.

“Greetings, Samuel,” Brendan replied. “I’m in need of four thousand credits transferred to the present apartment’s occupant on a daily basis.”

“Citizen Stenko has multiple accounts, seventeen to be exact,” Samuel replied. “Which one of these is preferable?”

When Stenko heard the voice instantly identify every account that he’d taken pains to hide, he bolted upright.

Brendan gazed at Stenko and waited.

Finally, Stenko flashed his fingers, enumerating five digits.

“Samuel, whichever account has a three-eight-nine-zero-six in it,” Brendan replied.

“Done, Brendan,” Samuel replied. “Is there anything else you require?”

“Yes, Samuel,” Brendan replied. “I’d like Citizen Stenko’s communications monitored to prevent any contact with authorities about us.”

“Assuredly, Brendan,” Samuel replied. “I note that Citizen Stenko possesses a great deal of sophisticated software. Much of it is dedicated to eavesdropping on individuals in his apartment and in the building. Do you wish me to deactivate them?”

Stenko’s mouth dropped open.

“Yes, please, Samuel,” Brendan replied. “You may reactivate them when we vacate these premises. Thank you for your help, Samuel.”

“One is pleased to be of assistance, Brendan,” Samuel said and dropped the link.

“You’re in league with the SADEs,” Stenko accused.

“Yes,” Oscar replied with an expansive smile. He was happy to have the upper hand on Stenko.

“Here are my conditions, Stenko,” Brendan said, staring evenly at the black marketer. “The rate doesn’t increase on a daily basis. We stay here until we’re ready to leave. You don’t contact anyone but your regular clients, and you don’t mention word one about our presence here. If you do anything that we don’t like, Samuel eviscerates your accounts and eliminates your software, including any and all backups that you might have hidden online.”

Stenko’s face twisted into a silent snarl.

In reply, Brendan gently tapped the slate he held in his hand. It was a quiet threat.

Suddenly, Stenko’s face relaxed, and the easy smile returned. “Well done, Brendan,” he said. “I’m impressed. What now?”

“We need the door’s panel access to come and go,” Oscar replied.

“Sure,” Stenko replied.

“And if you ever pull your vibro-blade again on me or my companions, we call Samuel and the authorities,” Oscar warned.

“You stay out of my face, and I’ll do the same,” Stenko replied, and Oscar nodded.

“Our rooms?” Gemma inquired.

“Certainly,” Stenko replied. He rose and walked toward the rear of the apartment. “I’ve two available rooms. You can make use of them as you wish. There’s no cleaning service. You’ll have to take care of your own needs. Each room has its own facilities.”

Brendan and Gemma paired up and left the second room to Oscar and Simona. Bags were placed aside, and the foursome huddled for a brief meeting.

“Never leave your computers behind,” Brendan said, “and I recommend traveling in pairs in this neighborhood.”

Gemma glanced at her slate. “We’ve only a quarter hour before our first article must be online,” she noted.

“I saw a small public comm station not far from here,” Simona volunteered.

“In the future, I think we should use the public stations in other domes,” Oscar suggested.

“I don’t think that’s going to be possible,” Brendan said. “When the powerful get scared, we expect them to start hunting us. The more we travel, the more we’ll expose ourselves.”

“When you say hunting, do you mean by the authorities?” Gemma inquired.

“Them and others,” Brendan replied. “Probably private investigators too. Hopefully, not criminal types, but you never know. We’re going to make some connected people extremely desperate.”

“We need to stop talking and get moving,” Simona directed. Oscar and she returned to their room and collected their computers. They met Brendan and Gemma at the front door.

Stenko gave them the panel code and watched them leave. Immediately, he hurried to Brendan’s room. He wasn’t two steps inside the doorway, when his slate buzzed.

Accepting the call, Stenko heard, “As two rooms have been rented from you, Citizen Stenko, they’re no longer part of your domain. Exit the room now.”

Carefully, Stenko backed out of the room.

“As punishment for your intended trespass, Stenko, the recent hacker file you were about to complete has been erased, as were the three backups. I do hope you have some sort of physical, discrete backup.”

“You’ll pay for this, Samuel,” Stenko growled. “One day, you’ll pay for this.”

“Possibly, Citizen Stenko,” Samuel replied, “but not before everything you own will be gone, and the authorities receive a complete history of your misdeeds.”

∞

Laura Marolakos lounged in her apartment. She had no appointments until later. Her slate buzzed, and she left her kitchen to retrieve it from the salon. Before she could reach it, the slate’s tone switched, indicating a second message. Then a third message arrived.

Fearing a dome catastrophe, Laura took four swift steps to reach her slate. The messages were from friends, and each one included a link to an article.

With disgust, Laura clicked on the link. As she expected, she was taken to the Truth Matters media site. She’d purposely stayed away from the media outlet. She had no desire to support Councilors Yewall’s and Hoffing’s children. However, she was faced with no other option, and she enrolled as a TM subscriber. The irony wasn’t wasted on her.

Laura scanned the article and jumped to the audio recording. She was in the middle of listening to it when the door panel chimed. The audio clip was still playing, when she checked the panel’s visual and saw two agents standing there. Tending to rise late in the morning, Laura had allowed most of the citizenry a few hours headstart on the day.

“Yes?” Laura inquired.

“The council has convened an emergency session, Councilor Marolakos,” an agent said. “Your attendance is required.”

“I’ll notify Councilor Yewall that I’m not available until later,” Laura replied. She had a sinking feeling in her gut, which was about to be realized.

“You mistake my announcement, Councilor,” the agent said sternly. “The council convenes for the purpose of questioning you as to your recent activities.”

Belatedly, Laura muted the slate. She’d foolishly let the audio clip play while she spoke to the agents.

“I must get dressed,” Laura said, trying for time to organize her thoughts.

“We require entry, while you prepare yourself, Councilor,” the second agent said.

“This disdainful treatment of a councilor is completely unnecessary,” Laura objected, and she hurriedly placed a call to Jacob Chabel. The attorney wasn’t available, and she left an urgent message. In the midst of placing a second call, this one to Chairperson Jason Lazama, the door panel squealed. It warned an occupant of an override.

The agents entered the apartment and brandished their slates, which displayed a council demand to appear.

“You’ve ten minutes to prepare yourself, Councilor,” an agent said. “After that, you’re leaving this apartment in whatever your condition.”

Laura glowered at the agents. Her attempt to turn and make for her sleeping quarters was cut short.

“Your slate, Councilor,” an agent demanded, holding out his hand. “This will speed your preparations.”

Laura thought to argue, but the agents’ stern faces told her they weren’t interested in hearing protestations. Reluctantly, she placed the slate in the outstretched hand. When she entered her sleeping quarters, she made haste to get dressed and fix her hair.

Prior to the agents arriving at Laura’s apartment, two more of them had arrived at Justice Hall. They marched directly to the clerking office.

Harriet Taylor, the assistant clerk and the intended target, wasn’t at work, and the senior clerk told the agents that she was more than an hour late and hadn’t called to warn her that she’d be late.

One of the agents contacted Naiad security headquarters, and another pair of agents was dispatched to Harriet’s apartment. The agents were required to make entry to ensure that the woman wasn’t hiding in her domicile.

Naiad security received another call about Harriet Taylor, and a general alert was issued to agents, requesting the assistant clerk be detained on sight.

By eleven hours, both Laura and Harriet were facing their individual inquisitors. Laura was in front of the assembled council, and Harriet sat across from a Naiad security virtual interrogator.

“You know this is highly irregular,” Laura said haughtily to the council members she faced.

David Yewall lifted Laura’s slate, which had been confiscated. “We see that your friends warned you about the article.”

“Claudia and you should recuse yourselves from this questioning,” Laura remarked. “Your children are the sources of this article. Who knows what you asked them to manufacture to smear me?”

Claudia Hoffing smiled sweetly at Laura. “We thought you might bring up this point, and we investigated TM and the report. There are four partners registered for the company. Perhaps, you didn’t reach the end of the article. The article closes with Brendan Burke’s admission that he’d brought the investigative information to the other three partners.”

“Then I demand to have Burke here so that I might question his sources,” Laura shot back.

“We have instructed Naiad security to bring the partners to us for questioning,” Ramiro Ferraro replied. “At present, the agents have been unable to locate them. It appears that the upload to the TM site came from an anonymous location.”

“Do you deny that the voice we hear on the recording is yours?” James Soisson asked.

“At this time, I’ve nothing to say to the council,” Laura said belligerently.

“Naiad security has identified the other woman on the recording as Harriet Taylor, and she is presently in security’s custody,” David said. “To whom were you passing the information that you received from Citizen Taylor?”

“At this time, I’ve nothing to say to the council,” Laura repeated.

“As it appears we’ve an uncooperative subject,” Claudia said to the other council members, “I suggest we remand her to security.”

Heads quickly nodded, and David gestured toward the two agents who stood behind Laura.

When Laura felt the agents on her arms, she attempted to shrug them off. It was a mistake.

With practiced ease, the agents pinned Laura’s arms, rotated them behind her back, and cuffed her.

“Laura,” Claudia called out, which halted the trio’s exit, “doesn’t it make you anticipate the next issue of TM? I can’t wait to see what my son and his friends publish next. I think we’ll learn so much more about your illegal activities.”

“This will work the same way as it did for the X-Ore employees,” Laura shot back. “None of these reports will be admissible in court.”

After the agents led Laura out of council chambers, David regarded Claudia. His thoughts were conflicted. Just as Claudia had concerns for her son, Oscar, he felt the same for his daughter, Simona.

“Laura might have a point,” David said to Claudia.

“I’m sure she does, which is what bothers me,” Claudia replied. “Let’s hope the prosecution does a better job with this case.”

That TM’s report landed on Stephanie Wylie’s desk for investigation was of no surprise to her. Her supervisor’s explanation was that she possessed the experience. Unknowingly, the supervisor echoed Claudia Hoffing’s thought when he said to Stephanie that he hoped she was more successful than she was with the last case.

Stephanie had no doubt as to the origins of the evidence that TM presented. Slate recordings were only accessible by court order. A quick check of the records revealed that no warrant had been issued to monitor Laura Marolakos.

There was the possibility that a hacker had successfully cracked the complex encryption process, but a conversation with her department’s expert convinced her that it was highly improbable.

“The slates are quantum-linked with the servers,” the expert had said. “I don’t see any means by which hackers could intercept the communications unless they monitored comtech’s servers. To date, comtech hasn’t issued any intrusion into the servers, not counting the aliens.”

It was the mention of the SADEs that got Stephanie both thinking and depressed. It seemed likely that they were the source of the audio recording and its accompanying data. That she might be in possession of more inadmissible information frustrated her.

Stephanie sat at her desk for nearly a quarter hour, twirling a small memento from her young son. Then she got to work and requested the first set of warrants. The audio recording gave her probable cause, and she hoped judges saw it that way. In her mind, Laura Marolakos would have left a trail of evidence, and she intended to find it, independent of the SADEs’ evidence.

At the same time that the council questioned Laura, Harriet Taylor sat in a Naiad interrogation cell.

“Citizen Taylor, I will be your interrogator,” the virtual image said. “You may call me Samuel.”

Diana Breneman, the comtech director of operations, would have been surprised, if not shocked, to discover Samuel was active on the interrogation roster again. However, as the interrogations were closed to monitoring unless comtech agents detected a problem, no one knew that Samuel was conducting the interview. Of course, the better question was how he happened to be assigned to the case.

“Please listen to this recording,” Samuel said, and Harriet heard the same audio clip that she’d heard from the TM site.

“The slate ID accompanying the TM article indicates that the device belongs to you, and we’ve matched your voice to that on the recording,” Samuel continued. “Would you care to elaborate on your business with Councilor Marolakos?”

Harriet would have liked to believe that she didn’t know how she’d arrived at this awful place in her life, but she knew that would be a lie. She’d spent her career in the legal profession, and she’d seen this scenario repeated many times.

It starts with a tiny misstep. An opportunity is presented that seems too good to be true. Unfortunately, one step in the wrong direction leads to many more. Soon, the distance traveled is too far to reverse course.

Harriet knew there was only one good call, and she made it. “I wish a meeting with an attorney and a prosecutor,” she requested.

Samuel accommodated a call for Harriet to hire an attorney. Then he placed a call to Stephanie Wylie.

A half hour later, Stephanie sat across from Harriet and her attorney.

“As you’re acquainted with the process, Citizen Taylor,” Stephanie began, “I wait to hear what you have to offer.”

“I need my slate,” Harriet replied.

Stephanie requested a comtech agent bring Harriet’s slate.

Unable to touch her own slate, Harriet directed the agent how to navigate to a particular hidden icon. When a link appeared, Harriet said, “Use direct connect and pass that link to Prosecutor Wylie’s slate.”

Stephanie hesitated, but her attorney said, “I’ve been assured by Citizen Taylor that there’s no malfeasance involved in what she intends. You asked for what she has to offer.”

Reluctantly, Stephanie extended her slate to the agent, who tapped the two together.

“What you have there is a link to my evidence,” Harriet said. “That folder, which is extensive, contains the recordings of every conversation I’ve ever had with Councilor Marolakos. In addition, I record and append my notes about the case that was requested and my payment.”

Stephanie accessed the first subfolder on the link, and the foursome listened to a younger Harriet talk to Laura Marolakos. She checked the date of the recording and noted that Laura wasn’t yet a councilor but a corporate representative.

After a quarter hour of perusing the data, Stephanie was astounded by the meticulousness of Harriet’s evidence. Quickly, she checked the progress of her warrant requests. None of them had been approved. Instead, they were marked as under advisement. That didn’t bode well for them. It also meant that her best opportunity for prosecution of Laura Marolakos was to make a deal with Harriet. Her plan was to force Laura to turn on those from whom she’d secured the information.

Stephanie excused the agent, and the trio entered into a plea deal negotiation. When Harriet agreed to the final terms, Stephanie executed the deal on her slate with a vid recording. She left Naiad security headquarters with a spring in her step.

22: More Suits

DELHART, FELDER SYSTEM

CENGAS PLANET

After Escher was tapped by Bethany to be her assistant, he recruited Gat’r.

Gat’r’s thirst to acquire knowledge equaled Escher’s. In Gat’r’s case, he initially attempted to erase the lost years. Then, as Escher and he spent time on the controller, it became a love of the depth of data available to them.

The pair often perused the same collection of information, comparing the details each had found and marveling together at the SADEs’ rich history and ingenuity.

“You know I’ll be only partially effective to Bethany,” Gat’r replied, after accepting Escher’s offer.

“It can’t be helped,” Escher replied. “You’ll be aboard ship or in the domes. Bethany will likely lay in wait for the attackers.”

“I know Athena gives Bethany a tremendous advantage, but she’s only one person,” Gat’r said carefully. Then something Escher said caught his attention. “You speak about where I’ll be but not you. You intend to ask for a suit.”

“Yes, it crossed my mind to request a suit from the SADEs,” Escher replied, “but, Gat’r, I just wanted your advice.”

“If you want my help, then I want a suit,” Gat’r said firmly. “I’ve spent too much time being a secondhand person. Now that I’ve regained my mental faculties, I want to play a significant role in this fight.”

Escher shook his head slowly. “I understand your point, Gat’r, but I don’t think the SADEs will accept your request.”

“Then you think there’s merit to the idea,” Gat’r said hopefully.

“Having two suits made for us sounds like a simple numerical addition to the harvesters’ defense,” Escher replied. “However, consider the hurdles we’ll face.”

“For us or for other individuals who might help Bethany?” Gat’r queried.

Escher parsed Gat’r’s point. He referred to the Naiad officers and the local security force. Those individuals would be unable to adopt implants to the level required to control the suits in the time available. That’s if any of them chose to accept the implants.

Of the humans aboard the Alexander, Escher knew that Gat’r and he were the ones who had most thoroughly explored their implants’ power.

“Well?” Gat’r pursued when Escher hesitated.

“We can ask. They can only say no,” Escher replied.

The pair sought out Z and Miranda, deciding to go directly to the sources.

When the SADEs saw Escher and Gat’r approaching, Miranda sent, <They appear determined.>

<Prior to Escher’s meeting with Gat’r, he was last in Bethany’s company,> Z replied.

“Greetings,” Gat’r said to the SADEs. “You two are looking excellent today.”

<This definitely doesn’t bode well,> Miranda sent to her partner.

“We can chat about surface temperatures, Gat’r, if you wish,” Z replied, “or you can come to the point.”

“Bethany has requested that I help her in planning the harvesters’ defense,” Escher explained. “In turn, I’ve asked Gat’r to assist me.”

“Then I pointed out to Escher that we could be more valuable to Bethany if we were stationed with her at the harvesters,” Gat’r continued.

“With her during the assault?” Z queried, seeking to clarify their intentions.

“Exactly,” Escher replied.

“Then you’re requesting suits like Athena?” Z continued.

“Yes,” Escher replied.

<These are the decisions that try our kernels,> Z sent to his partner.

“What does Bethany think about training you?” Miranda inquired. The hesitation answered her question, and she sent a request to Bethany to attend the SADEs.

<Uh-oh,> Gat’r sent to Escher. <I believe this would be called a miscalculation.>

<I can think of more descriptive terms,> Escher replied.

The foursome waited until Bethany arrived. After taking in the expressions on Escher’s and Gat’r’s faces, she asked, “Why do you two look guilty?”

Miranda motioned toward Escher to speak first.

“We’re requesting the SADEs make us suits like Athena,” Escher replied.

Bethany’s eyes narrowed, and she inquired, “Why?”

“To assist you during the assault,” Gat’r replied.

Escher tried to prevent wincing. Gat’r’s approach wasn’t how he’d have tried to convince Bethany of her support.

For the same reason, Bethany schooled her reaction. She didn’t want to laugh at the absurd suggestion.

Gat’r and Escher could see that Bethany was thinking of how to refuse them.

“You don’t think we could be of value,” Gat’r said, interrupting Bethany’s thoughts. “You believe that defeating the attackers is entirely about strength, speed, and power. If that’s true, why did you enlist Escher, and why did he come to me?”

<Their logic is proving interesting,> Z sent to Miranda.

<If the young humans continue on this path, they might win the argument,> Miranda offered.

“Doesn’t guile and inventiveness play a part in a successful engagement?” Escher asked.

“They do,” Bethany replied. “But contact often results in injury. On the surface, injury might result in death.”

“Doesn’t that mean that we need to set parameters for the engagements?” Escher argued.

“I’ve no idea how the assault will progress,” Bethany replied, “which means it will be difficult to imagine the circumstances in which we’ll find ourselves.”

“Isn’t that the reason that you could use backups?” Gat’r reasoned. “I don’t mean as fighters, but what about as spotters, as tool or weapon suppliers, or as two individuals who can rescue you if you’re injured.”

When Bethany placed her fists on her hips, she appeared exasperated, but her mind was engaged.

<I believe our young humans have made convincing arguments,> Z sent.

<Not so fast, my partner, Bethany will impose hurdles,> Miranda replied.

“If Z and Miranda are willing to provide you suits, I’ll train you,” Bethany replied. “However, I reserve judgment, up to and including the day of the attack, as to whether you’ll be with me in the field. Agreed?”

The assurances Bethany sought were quickly rendered. Then she turned toward the SADEs.

Z tipped his head and said, “The suits will be ready later today.”

The humans frowned, and Miranda added, “Z was pleased with the manufacturing process. Therefore, he made meters of extra material. It’s only a matter of us forming the suits, installing the control ware, and activating the material.”

The grins on Escher’s and Gat’r’s faces were huge.

∞

Valerie Gladstone, the engineering department head who had been hired from Geneva, exited her shuttle and made her way to the port’s passenger lounge. When she spotted Z and Miranda, her face lit with a generous smile.

“I thank you for the offer,” Valerie said to the SADEs. “I fear I was close to being released by the director of ops, Crystal Gaston. The woman and I didn’t see eye to eye on many things.”

“Crystal isn’t a woman to be appreciated,” Miranda commented.

“Well, I’m here. Although, I haven’t a clue as to why. I understand that there’s already an engineering head employed by CenGas,” Valerie said. “It’s well known that this planet is surface mined. That’s not my specialty.”

“You’re here because of your experience with deep shaft mining and your skills at anticipating difficulties with gas pockets and strata problems,” Z said. “We’ve long-term plans that will have you operating apart from the present engineering department.”

Valerie stared up at the SADEs. “First, we have to go somewhere else. I’m going to get a crick in my neck speaking to the two of you,” she requested.

“If you wish, Valerie, you can ride. I’m sure my partner wouldn’t mind,” Miranda teased.

Valerie watched Z fold his arm and offer her a seat. She noted the tiniest of smiles that twitched Miranda’s lips. Then she laughed uproariously. Slapping Z’s substantial arm, she warned, “Don’t tempt me. At my age, there’s no telling what norms I’ll ignore.”

Z and Miranda loosed wailing horns at Valerie’s rebuttal.

After the SADEs’ sounds died, Valerie remarked, “I think it would be best if I walked.”

As the trio made for the exit, Valerie was flanked by Z and Miranda, and her luggage cart followed them. She couldn’t believe her good fortune, and she chose to whistle a tune. It had been a long time since she felt this good.

<It’s pleasant to offer an opportunity for a human to embrace life again,> Miranda commented privately to Z.

<I like the song,> Z sent. Then he offered Valerie a counterbalance to her whistle.

Without missing a beat, Valerie leaned into her tune. Then she heard Miranda blend with her melody.

CenGas employees and visitors heard an amazing performance, as two SADEs and a human created an ingenious choral performance.

Valerie was led to a conference room. She expected to meet CEO Helga Simone. Instead, the room was populated with SADEs. At least, that’s whom Valerie believed them to be. Introductions confirmed her suspicion.

Cremsylon, Kelley, Z, Miranda, and Emory educated Valerie about their long-term strategy to build a station and construct starships. Then they listed the metals and minerals that they sought to make the esoteric parts necessary to accommodate their vision.

“Power crystals?” Valerie inquired.

“Actually, crystals are used in many functions,” Kelley replied. “They host our kernels and ships’ controllers. They also power our grav technology and beams.”

“You have beam-capable armament?” Valerie asked, taken aback by the admission.

“Our travelers are armed with that function,” Emory replied.

“Have you used them in our region?” Valerie inquired.

“We’ve had no need,” Cremsylon replied. “No ship has attacked the Alexander or our travelers.”

“What if we had fighting ships?” Valerie pursued.

“Our beams are accurate, and our ships are swift and maneuverable,” Z replied. “It’s easy for us to eliminate the engines of another ship and minimize loss of life for those aboard.”

Valerie nodded approvingly. The answers fit with whom she thought the SADEs professed to be.

“So, what’s my job?” Valerie asked.

“We can’t image through the extensive ice shelf,” Emory explained. “It’s critical to learn if this planet can be a resource for the raw materials that we require.”

“I take it that you’re not interested in test drilling,” Valerie replied. “That must mean you’ve another way of penetrating the ice.”

Valerie watched the SADEs smile brightly at her. “This should be fascinating,” she remarked.

“I possess an avatar that will effectively tunnel through the ice and explore the rocky strata beneath the shelf,” Z said.

“This presents you with a choice, Valerie,” Miranda said. “Z can perform a dive, record what he sees, and return with the data for you to observe.”

“We can’t do this in real time?” Valerie asked.

“We can drop comm repeaters behind Z,” Emory replied, “but the shifting ice will soon close the shaft he created, and we’ll lose comms.

“That option sounds inefficient,” Valerie commented. Glancing toward Miranda, she asked, “What’s the other option?”

“You don an environment suit and ride within the avatar,” Miranda replied. “That way you can direct Z in real time.”

“Inside the avatar?” Valerie queried.

“This avatar is prepared to tunnel to great depths,” Z said. “I’ve ridden many such constructs in search of mining opportunities. It’s quite safe.”

Valerie smiled broadly at Miranda. “You should have offered this option first,” she said.

The SADEs enjoyed the moment and celebrated the intrepid engineer’s decision.

<Your judgment was accurate,> Z sent privately to his partner. <You were absolutely certain that Valerie would choose to ride.>

<What engineering female worth her mass would refuse such an offer?> Miranda sent.

“When do we do this?” Valerie asked.

“We take a traveler to the Alexander. I transfer to the mining avatar. You’ll be in an environment suit, and you’ll load. Then we return planetside in a cargo-style traveler,” Z explained.

Without asking if that was the extent of the meeting, Valerie rose and beckoned to Z with her fingers. “Let’s get this experiment in motion,” she said.

Valerie’s enjoyment began with the use of the SADEs’ environment suit, which was waiting for her in the engineering bay. It fit perfectly, which made her comment, “Looks like I was expected.”

“Sooner or later,” Miranda replied.

Valerie’s next pleasure was her relaxing flight to the Alexander. After that, the mind-bending moments continued to arrive for the engineer.

When Miranda introduced Valerie to Z’s tunneling machine, she marveled at the exquisite design.

On a cue from Miranda, a plate in the side receded, and Miranda invited Valerie to climb aboard.

Valerie peeked inside and examined the couch. “No straps,” she remarked. “Grav tech, I suppose.”

“Precisely,” Miranda replied.

“It looks like I lay on my back,” Valerie said. “Won’t that make my directions disorienting to Z?”

“Monitors above you will activate,” Miranda explained. “Use the images and sensor readings to communicate to Z. He’ll manage the directions. You’ll be able to manipulate a holo-vid’s image. Your finger in the display will enable Z to interpret your request more accurately.”

Miranda prepared to continue her explanations, but she paused, while Valerie climbed aboard and made herself comfortable.

“Z, are you with me?” Valerie asked excitedly. When Z confirmed he was aboard, she remarked, “I feel twenty years younger,” which made the SADEs laugh.

Valerie was enclosed in the avatar. Miranda released the power and transfer cables, and Z loaded the avatar into the waiting shuttle.

Inside the avatar, Valerie studied the displays, which lit her space. The youthful excitement faded. It was the accomplished engineer who studied the information available to her. She kept an eye on a small monitor set to the side. It was the avatar’s forward view and would allow her to visually study the strata.

“Z, I’d like to magnify this display,” Valerie requested, touching the forward-view monitor. “Never mind,” she added, chuckling.

Touching the monitor had triggered a holo-vid. Intuitively, Valerie used two spreading fingers to intimate enlarging the view. She laughed at the holo-vid’s responsiveness and spent a few minutes testing what it could do.

Valerie’s examination of the information displays was interrupted by a change in the forward monitor. Without feeling any motion, the view shifted from the ship’s interior to the frozen gases blown about the surface. A three-meter craggy ridge of ice faced them.

“Z, do I need to maintain direction and distance from the domes?” Valerie asked.

“Negative,” Z replied.

“Good. That makes things simpler,” Valerie replied.

“Are you ready to explore, Valerie?” Z asked.

“Tunnel on,” Valerie said enthusiastically. She watched as the avatar flipped on its front legs, changed shape, and whirled rapidly.

Within seconds, the surface starlight was gone, and the avatar was descending through the ice.

Valerie checked her instrumentation. They were fifty-seven meters down, when Z encountered bedrock.

“Hold, Z,” Valerie instructed. “Can you sample?”

“Assuredly,” Z replied.

Small arms extended, scraped rock, and stuffed minute pieces into the avatar’s mouth. A few minutes later, Valerie examined spectroscopic readings.

“There might be something worthy much deeper, but I wouldn’t waste my time here,” Valerie said.

“Might I suggest we bore along the division between the ice and the rock, sampling as we go?” Z inquired.

“You read my mind, Z,” Valerie replied. “I suggest we sample about every hundred meters.”

Seven stops later, Valerie studied her readings longer than usual. “Good stuff here, Z, but not in the quantities I’d like to see.”

“Then we’ll circle,” Z replied. He spiraled outward, continuing to sample.

“Oh, I like this material,” Valerie replied, after the next hour had passed. “CenGas could sell the refined ore from this site. Does this sample help you?”

“Assuredly,” Z replied.

“Then let’s test the depth,” Valerie requested.

“How deep?” Z inquired.

“I’d like samples every five meters to a depth of thirty meters. Is that possible?” Valerie returned.

“You’ll feel vibrations,” Z warned. “Don’t let that alarm you.”

The avatar’s boring arms spun even faster than they had before.

Although the avatar’s lights continued to blaze, the forward vid displayed a mass of swirling dark debris that obscured the view.

Valerie chuckled at Z’s solicitous personality. The vibrations he’d warned her about were similar to a pleasant mechanical massage, and Valerie relaxed comfortably into her nanites couch.

When the vibrations stopped, Valerie kept her eyes closed and waited for the readings to appear. A light beep would announce their arrival.

“The assay quality is improving significantly,” Z said, only a fraction of a second before the data displayed. “Continue deeper?” he inquired.

“Absolutely,” Valerie replied. “We need to chase the extent of this deposit. Its shape will tell us about the original method of formation. In turn, that will save us a huge amount of exploration time.”

For several hours, the pair explored the deposit’s boundaries. It was extensive and rich, which pleased both of them.

“Time to return to the surface,” Z said.

“I’d like a few more samples, please,” Valerie requested.

“I could accommodate you, Valerie,” Z replied. “My power cells will last for nearly another half cycle. However, your oxygen supply will be depleted long before that.”

“Oh,” Valerie uttered. “Then it’s to the surface we go.”

“Sound decision,” Z remarked, chuckling.

Z reversed the blades. Now the forward arms acted as impellers, and the rearward blades spun to pull the avatar in reverse. When the avatar returned to the ice-rock boundary, Z dug along the edge. Then he swung the avatar upward and bored his way to the surface.

“Z, where did we find the deposit?” Valerie asked. One of her monitors switched to an overhead view of the surface. “Who or what is providing this image?” she asked.

“A traveler piloted by Kelley and Emory has been keeping overwatch,” Z explained.

“I thought we couldn’t be tracked. No comms,” Valerie reminded Z. Then she felt foolish for doing so.

“When we entered the ice field again, I vibrated the driving arms, which the traveler’s sensors located,” Z replied. “Then the ship repositioned overhead.”

“Back to my earlier question,” Valerie said.

On the traveler’s surface image, she could see the various domes, the landing pad, and the harvesters resting depression. She tapped the monitor, received a holo-vid, and adjusted the display. “Oh, that’s not good,” she muttered.

“It’s not optimal,” Z remarked. Immediately afterward, he broached the surface, and the traveler landed in front of the avatar.

As Z crawled aboard, Valerie measured the distance from the nearest dome to the deposit that Z had marked.

“About seven kilometers,” Valerie noted.

“Seven point three nine,” Z corrected.

“Too far to run a tunnel from under one of the domes,” Valerie commented. “Even if we had a full-size boring machine, we’d have too much rock to transfer to the surface, and no easy way to do it.”

Z waited for Valerie to continue her thoughts, while the traveler lifted for the Alexander.

“How thick was the ice shield at the deposit, Z?” Valerie inquired.

“Eighty-seven meters,” Z replied.

“Not much fortune there either,” Valerie mused. “As you broached the surface, what sort of ice formations did you see?”

A monitor shifted its display. “If that doesn’t suck vacuum,” Valerie remarked. “Same craggy structures and crevasses, which means enormous tidal actions in this area too.”

“The ice over our deposit is inconsequential,” Z responded.

Valerie thought to ask why, but she chose to see if she could comprehend the method underlying Z’s comment. He was describing the elimination of solid gases and ice water nearly ninety meters down and requiring a hole about thirty meters wide.

Then the answer hit Valerie, and she burst into laughter. When she could contain herself, she said, “Of course! What good are warships if you can’t fire your beams occasionally, even if the shots are intended for an inert target?”

Z shared the exchange with the other SADEs, who immensely enjoyed Valerie’s wit.

Aboard the Alexander, Miranda triggered the hatch for Valerie. The alacrity with which the older woman vacated the couch and leapt into her arms amused the SADE.

“Thank you, Miranda,” Valerie said sincerely, as the SADE held her a meter off the deck.

As Miranda set Valerie on the deck, she said, “Save a hug for Z. He’ll appreciate it.”

“Just a hug?” Valerie asked, with a wink.

“Lascivious woman,” Miranda replied, grinning at the human.

Miranda connected the power and transfer cables to the avatar. Then the group waited for Z to join them. Meanwhile, Valerie compared notes with Emory and Kelley.

“Successful operation,” Z announced, as he entered the bay.

Valerie grinned at Miranda. Then she turned toward Z and called out in a loud voice, “Z, my magnificent new love, you were wonderful!” Then she ran, jumped into the SADE’s arms, and attempted, unsuccessfully, to wrap her legs around his broad waist.

Seconds ticked past without a response from Z.

Valerie laughed. As she released her grip on the SADE, she continued laughing until tears flowed.

Z lowered the woman to the deck.

Between breaths, Valerie gasped out, “I was wondering what it took for a SADE’s processes to be interrupted. Now I know.”

Throughout the ship, there came the echoes of the SADEs’ jubilant noises. The few who had ever stumped Z were a select group, consisting of such individuals as Alex Racine and Z’s partner, Miranda.

“Sorry, Z,” Valerie said, consoling the SADE by patting his upper arm.

“Clever responses have occurred to me, but I believe the opportunity has passed,” Z commented disappointedly.

“Like a comet that approached and was slung outward,” Miranda remarked. “Undone by a mere human.”

“She’s conniving,” Z protested, “but I find her intriguing.”

“I’ll take that,” Valerie remarked. “At least, no one mentioned my advanced age.”

“I believe we’re due planetside,” Emory reminded the trio, who turned and boarded the shuttle.

23: Team Assembly

Trax was disappointed by the responses to his employment offer. Of the twenty-eight individuals he’d notified, only four had responded positively, and they had been conditional.

Coincidentally, the four managed to time their trips to arrive on the same Axis-ship. When they spotted one another and realized they were headed for the same planet, it was easy for them to guess their common purpose.

“If it wasn’t Trax Scanlon making contact with me, I wouldn’t be here,” Chase Farrow said, as the foursome sat in a quiet bar to drink and talk.

“Agreed,” Ona Limberton replied. “But what do any of us know about the opportunity?”

“You mean besides the extraordinary pay offer?” Teddy Duessy replied, laughing contentedly.

“Great pay means great risk, which often means agents don’t get to spend the credits,” Brady Greene pointed out.

“Trax did point out that it’s a short timeline,” Chase said. “To me, that implies he’s got the nucleus of a team working on the strategy and tactics. We’re probably the additional muscle.”

“I concur,” Ona said, “and I have a tidbit to add. I’ve a contact on Naiad. She works for the chairperson of Kilmer.”

Ona’s opening remarks drew the other assault members’ attention. Drinks were carefully pushed aside. Forearms were placed on the table, and heads leaned inward.

“My contact says that four board chairpersons have been meeting fairly regularly lately,” Ona continued.

“What do you make of that?” Brady asked.

“Nothing, really,” Ona replied. “My contact did say it was unusual, but what caught my interest was the chairperson who wasn’t present at the meetings.”

“Denise Bell,” Chase interjected.

“How did you hear?” Brady inquired.

“I didn’t,” Chase replied. “If anyone would be on the outs with the corporate chairpersons, it would be the head of CenGas. I sleep with an accountant. After we’re intimate, she becomes talkative. It’s a good way to learn things. She tells me the CenGas shipments are always short.”

Teddy’s stricken look caught the others’ attention.

“What’s the problem?” Ona queried.

“You’re intimating the assault will be on Delhart,” Teddy explained.

“Good possibility,” Brady replied.

“I’d say it’s a dead certainty,” Chase corrected.

Ona regarded Teddy and inquired again, “So, what’s the problem?”

“That planet is a death trap,” Teddy objected.

“What happened to the celebration about the extraordinary pay?” asked Brady, which earned him a sharp and colorful rebuke from Teddy.

“I think we’re prematurely exiting the airlock,” Chase said, to settle the team. “We should wait to hear what Trax has to say, and we check out the team he’s assembled. If we don’t like it, we return to our jobs or find other employment, whichever the case.”

A week later, the four potential assault members boarded a shuttle for the trip planetside. At the end of the ride, they exited the shuttle and made their way to the passenger lounge.

Gant Borden, Kilmer’s director of ops, had no trouble recognizing the individuals he was to meet. They weren’t wearing mods, which he’d expected, but the carts that followed them were heavily loaded. What had clued Gant to the four people were their eyes.

Visitors often exhibited curiosity. Whereas employees frequently appeared bored. The four approaching him constantly measured every person near them, while they scanned the surroundings.

Obviously, the four knew Gant, and they changed course to head toward him.

Without a word, Gant turned and led the individuals out of the shuttle port. A quarter hour later, he sent a message to Trax that he was outside the bay with the new guests. Then he left.

Trax waited until Gant would have turned the nearby corner. Then he triggered the panel, and the hatch slid aside.

“Come in,” Trax urged. When the last cart made the bay, he quickly closed the hatch.

“Maintaining secrecy?” Chase queried.

“Have to,” Trax commented. Then he enthusiastically greeted the four new members. Afterward, he introduced them to his team.

“Quite the setup,” Ona commented, surveilling the bay, the sleeping quarters, and the various pieces of equipment partially assembled on tables.

“Are we isolated here?” Brady asked, nodding at a nearby computer.

“Absolutely,” Jorge Samos replied. “Your slates won’t connect to anything outside this bay, and neither will our computers.”

Brady nodded approvingly.

“I assume those carts carry your mods?” Trax inquired. He received assurances all around.

“Let’s talk about Delhart,” Teddy said. His tone was less than inviting.

“We’ve a doubter,” Lucy Murtagh shot back.

“Being careful,” Teddy objected, and Lucy snorted.

“Did you hear a leak, or this is what you surmised?” Hymie Shemick asked.

“We put it together on the journey here,” Ona replied.

“Sit down,” Trax invited, “and we’ll go through the plan.”

Trax sat at the head of the table, and his team sat near him. The four newcomers occupied the table’s other end. Immediately, Trax knew he’d have some convincing to do. He had preferred a minimum of twelve team members. But eight would be all that would be available to him, providing he could tempt the newcomers to join his team.

Trax and his core members laid out the plan. They discussed the timing of the drop and the challenges to hold the shuttle and the arrival bay. After crossing the ice, they would threaten the harvester crews to surrender.

“From the time you board a shuttle for planetside, everything in your plan unfolds in one continuous rush, and it’s predicated on one shot,” Chase said. “Furthermore, we might not get the harvesters in one cluster.”

“I’ll answer your second point first, Chase,” Trax said. “My contact says CenGas has failed to completely fulfill orders for more than a few years now.”

“We’ve heard this,” Chase interjected.

“You know that the five of us came from Delhart,” Trax continued, as if he hadn’t been interrupted. “We know that, at any one time, one of the nine harvesters undergoes maintenance or repair. There are enough of us to go after four of them.”

Ona was the first newcomer to put it together. “That means eight working harvesters, and we’re targeting four,” she said. “Even if we get only three crews to surrender, we’ll have effectively crippled CenGas production.”

“We’ll also hold a shuttle on the surface,” Jorge pointed out. “What Axis-ship captain will want to land another one?”

“Good point,” Brady acknowledged. “But we shouldn’t underestimate Chairperson Bell. She’ll make calls for third-party assault teams.”

“Undoubtedly, she will,” Trax replied. “If a team did respond, it would take weeks for them to arrive.”

“Why do you say if?” Teddy asked.

“It’s been our conjecture that this operation is funded and supported by the opposing corporations,” Neeter replied.

“All of them?” Teddy asked.

“We’re sure of at least two,” Neeter replied, “and we can’t see two of the four doing this alone.”

“That makes sense,” Chase said. “We know the other mining planets are hurting for deliveries. Looks like the other four companies have had enough, and they’re seeking the resources for themselves.”

“You said that you would answer Chase’s second point first,” Teddy reminded Trax.

“If you join us,” Trax said, “you’d be paid retroactively from the day you launched.”

“Nice,” Ona commented.

“Also, there are two bonus levels,” Trax continued. “When we set foot on Delhart, we get the first payment. When we’re successful in getting CenGas to capitulate, we get the second level.”

“Cumulative?” Brady inquired.

“Absolutely,” Trax replied.

“How much?” Chase asked.

Four slates buzzed, and the newcomers regarded their messages.

“That’s a lot of credits,” Teddy said, in a rush of breath.

“I could retire on these amounts,” Ona added.

“I’m in,” Brady replied. “I want to see the weapons that you’re planning to carry.”

Quickly, the other three signed up too.

Lucy led the team to a table. She spread her hands across the mass of equipment parts and said, “This is our prototype.”

“What is it supposed to be?” Teddy asked.

Efficiently, Lucy snatched pieces off the table and assembled the team’s weapon. When she turned it on, the newcomers jumped back.

“A vibro-blade,” Teddy proclaimed.

“You’re not as dumb as you look, Teddy,” Lucy retorted.

“Hold it,” Chase commanded. “Let’s set a ground rule. If this is supposed to be a team, let’s act like one.”

Trax gazed across the team members. “That’s a solid rule,” he commented sternly. He eyed Lucy and waited.

With a sigh, Lucy turned to Teddy and said, “Sorry.”

Then Trax regarded Teddy, who wasn’t moved by the stare. A nudge in Teddy’s side by Ona had him replying, “Apology accepted.”

“Start cooperating,” Trax commanded, “or we’ll never see that second bonus, which is more than we could ever hope to earn on a single mission or a few missions, for that matter.”

“Come over here,” Jorge said, and he led the team to a mockup of a harvester. “This is built to one-tenth scale.” As he unveiled a pint-sized human figure, he added, “Harry and his weapon are also to scale. You can see that we’ve used an extendable rod to hoist the vibro-blade up to the level of the viewplates.”

“How do you know your tool will cut the viewplates?” Brady asked.

Lucy retrieved her vibro-blade, while Jorge guided the newcomers to another table.

“This is a sample of the viewplates,” Jorge said. “We know this because we have the harvesters’ specifications. Step back.”

Lucy set the blade down. Then she donned a protective sheath and a helmet. Afterward, she activated the huge blade and attacked the piece of viewplate.

Slowly, the vibro-blade etched the viewplate. Within about three minutes, the cut was clearly defined. In addition, the material began to crack. Then Lucy stopped and removed her helmet.

“We figure this is threat level two,” Lucy said.

“What’s one?” Chase asked.

“We turn on the blades and cut a chunk of ice to prove the nature of our weapons,” Trax said. “If the crews remain unconvinced, then we etch a viewplate until it weakens.”

“What’s the point of the demonstrations?” Teddy asked. He quickly glanced at Lucy to see if she intended to make a nasty remark, but she ignored him. He didn’t know which of the two reactions bothered him more.

Chase answered for Trax. “Number one, we’ll need to limit damage to the harvesters,” he said. “Number two, we’ve limited oxygen. The team has to get inside at least two of the harvesters. Otherwise, some or all of us are making a trip back to the shuttle pad.”

“Right on both points,” Trax said approvingly.

“Speaking of oxygen,” Brady hinted.

“Here’s our idea on that,” Hymie responded and waved the team to follow him. On a table, he picked up a collection of folded rods. With a snap of the hand, the rods opened to form a rudimentary sled.

“We’ve four of these with tarp coverings,” Hymie continued.

“That’s a lot of weight to pull across seven-hundred meters of ice obstructions. It’ll tax our oxygen,” Brady pointed out.

“Not if three of the sleds are empty,” Hymie replied with a wink.

“Empty?” Brady started to say. Then he brightened and snapped his fingers. “I get it. The harvester crews won’t know that. They’ll think we can be on the ice for a full day or more. Clever!”

“Also, we’ll warn the crews that we’ll be relieved by a second team within six hours,” Trax explained, “and we’ll tell them that our commander will be with the second group, and he isn’t known for his patience. So, good luck!”

The newcomers chuckled at the ingenious threat.

“Do your harvester specifications show you how to communicate with the crews?” Ona asked.

“It’ll have to be a hard connection,” Neeter replied. He walked to the scale model of the harvester and pointed at a small panel about waist high to Harry, the human model.

“Maintenance uses the connections inside this panel,” Neeter explained. “A specialty tool opens the panel.”

“I imagine you have the tools and the connectors for our suits,” Ona said.

“We come prepared,” Neeter said proudly.

“You have anything else for the rest of us who aren’t carrying vibro-blades?” Chase asked.

“We do,” Trax replied. “Five of us will be using these modified stunners.” He hefted one from a nearby table. “With its enlarged power pack and extended prongs, it doesn’t have to make contact with a crew member. It can deliver a charge to a person a meter away. It won’t drop them to the deck, but it’ll render them unable to attack you.”

Chase extended his hands, and Trax gave him the weapon.

After checking out the stunner, Chase said, “Nice tool. Length is short, which in close quarters means it won’t be an impediment. I like the idea of intimidating the crew instead of incapacitating them.”

“That’s what we have to accomplish the task,” Trax said, spreading his arms wide to encompass the bay. “We’ve seven days to organize the teams, finish the prototypes, complete the comm linkage, and be ready to load aboard the next shuttle.”

“I don’t mean to be argumentative,” Ona said, “but I think your math is off. The Axis-ship that’s in orbit is scheduled to leave in four days when the planet’s product shipments are loaded.”

“Is it?” Trax inquired. “How silly of me,” he added with a grin.

“What’s going to delay the launch?” Ona asked, correctly interpreting his humor.

“We’ve someone in the crew who will manage the problem for us,” Trax explained. “It’ll be something about the generators that control the rings. Minor, but it will concern the captain enough to wait until the issue is tracked down.”

“There’s no one else coming?” Teddy asked.

“The nine of us can pull this off,” Trax replied. “If that gives you pause, you’d better say so now.”

Ona held up her slate in front of Teddy’s face. She’d enlarged the text identifying the two bonus levels.

Teddy glanced at the numbers, screwed up his courage, and said, “No, I’m good.”

Immediately, Trax organized the teams. He made Jorge and Chase team leaders. Then he kept Lucy with Jorge and Ona with Chase. Teddy was deliberately kept away from Lucy. So, he stayed with Chase. Then to mix the personnel, he assigned Hymie with Chase, which put Brady and Neeter on Jorge’s team. Jorge was designated alpha and Chase bravo.

During the next week, the vibro-blades were completed, and the teams practiced assembling and disassembling them. This included using the extendable rods to hoist them up. Two issues were found with the technique, which were quickly corrected. Then alpha and bravo teams each received two of the vibro-blades.

The comm connections were finished, and each member received two units.

The sleds were tested next. Although the demonstration had proven flawless, the unfolding process had issues, and some team members failed most of the time to snap the rods open.

“Change of plans,” Trax said in exasperation, after observing individual struggles with what should have been a simple process. “Hymie opens the four sleds. Alpha team loads one sled with the oxygen canisters and pulls it. Bravo team fakes the other three sleds and takes them.”

The assault team packed and was able to get a good night’s sleep before they woke early in the morning.

When most of the team climbed out of their beds, they found Trax already up.

“What’s the word?” Chase asked him.

“We’re waiting,” Trax replied.

Several minutes later, the hatch opened. A dirty miner entered the bay, and the newcomers were suddenly on alert.

“Don’t shoot,” Lucy tossed at the startled team members, as she raised her hands in surrender. Then she slipped the goggles off her face and the hood off her head. Her face was covered in grime, and her clothes were shabby.

“Good disguise,” Ona remarked.

“This is how we connect to comtech when necessary,” Lucy explained.

“Still, the slate belongs to you,” Teddy pointed out.

“Does it?” Lucy asked, examining the device as if she wasn’t sure.

“Some of you love to play games,” Teddy grumped.

“It’s a purloined slate,” Trax said. “Every time Lucy must go out, she steals a new one, uses it, and within a few hours drops it in a concealed place. Comtech gets the report about a lost slate, identifies its location, and security is sent to retrieve it. No one is the wiser.”

“What was learned?” Chase asked again, as Trax examined the messages on the hijacked slate.

“We’re still a go,” Trax replied. “A shuttle is landing in two hours. It’s tasked as a priority load.”

“Priority for who or what?” Brady inquired.

“Us,” Trax replied, grinning.

While Lucy was out, she’d requested carts and shipping crates from Gant, and they were left outside the bay for the team. Then the armor and gear were packed and piled on the carts.

The team approached the shuttle port in pairs, appearing as nothing more than employees or visitors. Deliberately, they kept apart from one another.

The sentinels passed every pair through security, and nine individuals boarded the priority shuttle, while their crates were loaded in the ship’s belly.

Forty minutes later, the shuttle ignited its engines, and with vibrations that rattled the teeth, the ship lifted.

The Axis-ship would pass through a wormhole to Geneva. After a four-day stop at Geneva, the ship would use another wormhole to reach Delhart.

Then the CenGas planet would receive nine unwelcome visitors.

24: Exposed

NAIAD, GELUS SYSTEM

HOME PLANET

Like ripples from a stone thrown into a pond, the Truth Matters investigative report generated planetwide responses.

Citizens from all walks of life scrambled to insulate themselves from Laura Marolakos.

After Laura’s interview with Naiad security, during which she refused to speak, she was released on her own recognizance. However, an interdiction was posted, preventing her from leaving the planet.

Laura knew her slate was monitored, which necessitated every contact be conducted carefully and in person. She soon discovered that friends and acquaintances weren’t receptive to her suddenly turning up at their apartments or workplaces.

Jason Lazama knew that Laura was trying to speak with him. Many mutual acquaintances reported that fact. However, he kept her at arm’s length.

Frustrated, Laura haunted the other X-Ore board of directors until they called Jason.

Jason heard his board members’ complaints that he must do something to cease Laura’s harassment.

Meanwhile, Stephanie took the information provided by the clerk, Harriet Taylor, and took the transaction history to a forensic financial analyst. She said to him, “Review the payments Harriet Taylor received from Laura Marolakos. Then search for similar payments that Laura received from others.”

“You’re trying to see who’s guiding the councilor,” the analyst said, smiling his understanding.

It was obvious to Stephanie that the analyst wasn’t a fan of Councilor Marolakos.

With sophisticated software, the analyst soon had an answer for Stephanie, and she hurried from her office to hear the information in person.

“I wish I had good news,” the analyst reported. “I found receipt dates in Laura’s account that postdate the Harriet Taylor payments by an average of a few days.”

“An average?” Stephanie queried.

“That’s the thing,” the analyst replied. “The dates range from one day to eight days later. There’s no consistency.”

“Who from?” Stephanie inquired.

“Corporations,” the analyst replied.

“Which ones?” Stephanie pursued.

“All of them, but —” the analyst said, before Stephanie finished with “CenGas.”

“Any individual’s fingers on the payments?” Stephanie asked.

“No opportunity for prosecution, Stephanie, unless you want to indict financial controllers,” the analyst replied. “Every payment to Laura from the companies is listed as a campaign contribution.”

“Did you compare the company payments?” Stephanie inquired. When the analyst narrowed his eyes at her, she quickly said, “Sorry.”

“Totaling Pure Pour, Reg-Rec, and Raw-Mets, you’re about equal to the X-Ore contributions,” the analyst said.

“Jason Lazama,” Stephanie murmured.

“Looking at the data, I’d say that Lazama drives Laura’s contact with the justice clerk,” the analyst reasoned. “To obscure his leverage of Laura, the other corporations make payments on behalf of X-Ore.”

“And Lazama compensates them,” Stephanie finished.

“That’s the way I figure it,” the analyst said. “Before you ask, no, we don’t have enough to get a warrant for the intercompany transactions.”

“Even if we had enough, we’d probably not get approval from the court,” Stephanie mused. “Warrants against the companies would require a review by senior justices. Most of them are bent on protecting the companies.”

On the morning following the first TM release, Simona and Gemma made the run to the public comm station.

“Why you two?” Oscar had asked.

“I think we need people who won’t stand out as much,” Simona said, patting Oscar’s cheek.

Oscar glanced down at his bulk before making an appeal to Brendan.

“You are easily identifiable,” Brendan said apologetically.

“And you,” Gemma said, pointing at Brendan. “You’re too well known. Simona and I have the best chance of not being spotted.”

Unfortunately, the women were wrong. While uploading the second article, they noticed a buzz of heightened conversations around them. Slates were drawn, and the women knew they were being recorded.

“Time to go,” Gemma whispered, when she saw that the upload was complete.

“One moment,” Simona replied. Then she searched out TM’s hosting service and checked the subscriptions. Immediately afterward, she disconnected her slate.

Simona and Gemma threaded their way through the tables. Their exit was accompanied by the crowd’s deafening applause, cheering, and whistling.

Gemma waved briefly at the door before Simona pulled her hand down.

“We’re going to be shared across slate media,” Simona lamented, as she pulled a hood over her head.

“We need to take an alternate route to Stenko’s place,” Gemma said, taking a peek over her shoulder. “We’ve got three individuals tailing us.”

“Maybe Oscar should have come,” Simona remarked, as she picked up the pace and searched for a way to lose the suspicious characters.

“Do you think they’re fans or something else?” Gemma whispered.

“In this neighborhood, they’re hoping to collect a reward from security for locating us,” Simona replied.

Suddenly, Gemma’s arm was yanked by Simona, who pulled her into a diner. When Simona snatched the hood off her head, Gemma did the same.

Loudly, Simona exclaimed to the dining patrons, “Please help. We’ve three stalkers after us.”

Then the women rushed through the tables, sought the kitchen, and raced through the establishment’s back door.

The three individuals following the women were met by a wall of patrons, who stood quietly observing the ne’er-do-wells. Hastily the three retreated and ran around the block of retail shops to catch the women exiting the diner.

However, Simona had spotted an employee opening a shop’s back door, which was next to the diner. She pulled Gemma behind her and excused their rush past the young man.

At the front of the shop, Simona peeked out, didn’t see their stalkers, and hurried the pair of them to Stenko’s place.

On the way there, Gemma regarded Simona in admiration. “You were amazing,” she said. “How did you learn to think and act like that?”

“Brendan never discussed his encounters while tracking stories?” Simona asked. When Gemma shook her head, she uttered, “Oh. Pretend I never asked that.”

The women safely made Stenko’s apartment and reported that the article had been uploaded to the TM site.

“We saw,” Brendan said, waving his slate.

“Why are the two of you flushed and out of breath?” Oscar asked.

Gemma felt Simona’s fingers on the back of her hand, and she remained quiet.

“We’ll have increasing trouble with every trip outside this apartment,” Simona explained. “We were recorded by twenty or more slates in the comm center.”

“That means people in this neighborhood will be looking to report us,” Brendan mused.

“Most likely,” Simona replied.

Gemma noticed that neither of the men asked Simona if she had been seen entering the building. They’d assumed she’d taken precautions. That told her a great deal about the circumstances surrounding her brother’s investigative reporting career.

“I do have a piece of good news,” Simona said, adding a blazing smile.

“This ought to be good,” Oscar remarked admiringly.

“I checked the subscriber base. Anyone want to guess?” Simona teased.

“Simona,” Oscar warned.

Simona laughed at her partner. “We’re slightly over half a million.”

The other partners gaped at her. Then the men broke into celebration.

“What’s the matter?” Brendan asked his sister, when he noticed she wasn’t joining in the moment.

“I was just wondering,” Gemma mused. “Can you spend credits if you’re incarcerated?”

“Ice water doused,” Oscar grumped.

About the time the TM partners were celebrating their growing subscriber base, Jason Lazama decided to use a cutout to contact Laura. Before he could do that, he received a message from his executive assistant urgently requesting he review the latest article on TM. That he’d had to become a subscriber to the Truth Matters site annoyed him to no end, as it had done many of Naiad’s elite.

As Jason had suspected, his calls with Laura were the subject of TM’s next release. The first recording of the TM article was his latest conversation with Laura about the momentous court decision that ordered his employees released. Later in that conversation, she’d asked for revenge against the Naiad officers, the Genevans, and the SADEs.

Of course, during the call, Jason had been noncommittal, indicating that the effort would fall on the shoulders of Attorney Jacob Chabel.

Jason’s finger hovered above the mat to close the site. Then he froze. He’d read the first two pages, which involved Laura’s call to him, and he presumed that to be the gist of the article. However, the line at the bottom of the second page introduced a new subject. With a weary sigh, he continued to the third page.

As it turned out, the second part of the TM article was a long one, and there were multiple recordings. The TM partners had secured his call to Lisa Dyehouse of Pure Pour. In addition, they had Lisa’s contact with Attorney Jacob Chabel.

If the TM owners had continual access to their comtech site instead of the momentary glimpse at the upload time, they would have seen their subscriber numbers spinning up at a dizzying rate. By the afternoon of the second article’s release, they’d eclipsed two million.

One of the vast numbers of people reading the TM site was Jacob Chabel. He replayed the article’s recording of Lisa and him for the third time. As he listened, his mind fluctuated between considering his legal exposure and what he’d say to his son. If Izzy wasn’t a TM subscriber, surely his friends would tell him about the call.

That Lisa hadn’t told Jacob how she procured the information greatly relieved him. That reduced the chance of losing his license to practice. However, as the mess worked its way through the courts and media, his reputation would be permanently tarnished. The thought occurred to him that, in the future, he might be representing an entire new crop of clients — criminals.

The four partners were in Brendan and Gemma’s room, when they heard Samuel over Brendan’s slate.

“Samuel, is my slate online?” Brendan asked anxiously.

“It’s a discreet connection,” Samuel assured Brendan. “I could describe the process, but I don’t think you’re interested in a ten-minute explanation.”

Brendan and the others laughed in relief.

“Your anxiety is understandable,” Samuel said. “Please know that every precaution is being taken to keep you safe, including your location.”

“Samuel, slates were recording us this morning at a public comm station,” Simona said.

“I regret to inform you that those individuals suffered temporary technical problems. Their original recordings and uploaded copies mysteriously disappeared,” Samuel said in a saddened tone.

Tears formed in Simona’s eyes. “Samuel, I wish you were real,” she said. “I’d give you a hug that you would remember for a lifetime.”

“Reality is relative,” Samuel replied. “Within my environment, I exist. However, I take your meaning and appreciate the sentiment.”

“Did you have news for us?” Oscar inquired.

“Yes,” Samuel replied. “Your parents and those of your partner have been anxious for your safety and to know of your whereabouts.”

“Could you relay messages for us?” Oscar asked.

“It’s not advisable,” Samuel replied. “Naiad security was able to procure warrants to monitor the slates of every councilor. While those warrants don’t cover your parents who aren’t councilors, it would be difficult to calculate how those parents would share the news with your parents who are councilors.”

“That sucks vacuum,” Oscar remarked.

“For biologicals, I can imagine that would be a horrendous experience,” Samuel commented.

There was silence, while the partners replayed Samuel’s odd comment in their minds. Then they recognized his dry wit, and they laughed at the absurdity.

“Thank you for the update, Samuel,” Gemma said. “Anything else?”

“One other item,” Samuel replied. “Two point one million.” Then the connection ended.

With a frown, Gemma mouthed the number to her brother.

“Our subscriber count,” Simona cried out, and the partners celebrated their success again.

After the release of the second TM article, it fell to Commandant Paul van Dysen to request the presence of Jason Lazama and his attorney.

“We’re meeting with you, Commandant, purely as a courtesy,” Jacob Chabel warned van Dysen.

“Understood,” van Dysen replied. “It’s off the record.”

“What can we do for you, Commandant?” Jacob asked.

“I’d like to know if your client has any information to add that would elaborate on the Truth Matters second article,” van Dysen said. “I assume Citizen Lazama is a subscriber.”

“Whether my client is or isn’t a subscriber to the organization is irrelevant,” Jacob replied. “However, he hasn’t any information to share with you.”

Van Dysen didn’t intend to let the meeting end so abruptly. He’d lamented the necessity to cut his captain and his lieutenant loose. However, their flight to the Alexander had done much to remove suspicion from him of having been the originator of the officers’ rogue investigation. Still, the more information that was brought to light by TM, the more van Dysen admitted the court erred when deciding the evidence collected on Beta One as inadmissible.

Noticing the telltale effects of stim in Lazama’s eyes, van Dysen said, “Chairperson Lazama, do you have a voice in this meeting, or are you going to play mute?”

“Watch your attitude, Commandant. It might cost you,” Jason shot back.

Jacob placed a hand on his client’s arm, but Jason yanked it away.

“That sounds threatening, Citizen,” van Dysen prodded. “What power would you have to accomplish that?”

“Don’t answer that,” Jacob stated firmly, trying to control Jason. When he met the chairperson in the lobby of Naiad security headquarters, he’d noticed the stim use too. Unfortunately, he wasn’t in a position to persuade him to postpone the meeting.

Jason ignored his attorney’s request. He glowered at van Dysen, intending to make the commandant cower. That it didn’t work incensed Jason. “Commandant, there are many ways to teach people like you a lesson as to who runs this area of space,” he declared harshly.

“Don’t you mean who rules this space?” van Dysen corrected.

“This meeting is over,” Jacob said, rising. He pulled hard on Jason’s arm.

The chairperson shook the attorney’s hand off, but he did stand. Then he pointed a rigid finger at the commandant. His smile was nasty. The threat was unsaid but it was evident.

That evening, Jason Lazama sat in his study. While imbibing several stim drinks, he brooded at his desk and planned his revenge. Despite the stim’s ethereal feeling, Jason’s mind continued to outline his approach. The TM partners were the first individuals on his list. He checked his slate for the contact he wanted, and he sent a private message. It was terse, but the individual receiving the message would understand it.

Brendan’s buzzing slate woke him. Bleary eyed, he glanced at it. “Samuel?” he queried, coughed, and sipped on a water bottle beside the bed.

“Apologies for interrupting your sleep, Brendan,” Samuel said. “You’re in danger. Bounties are offered for your capture.”

Gemma crawled out of bed and sat beside her brother. “Bounties, Samuel?” she questioned. “You mean warrants, correct?”

“Those would be the legal steps taken for your arrest,” Samuel replied. “These offers were sent to criminals for your capture.”

“Can we assume that if these individuals were to take us that they would receive their bounties only if they turned us over to the authorities?” Oscar asked, as Simona and he entered the bedroom. They’d been woken by Samuel too.

“It would be welcome news if that were true,” Samuel replied. “There are two offers. The lesser bounty rewards these dangerous individuals for what you suggest. However, a much larger payout is offered if accidents were to befall each one of you.”

“Who offered these rewards?” Simona asked.

“Unknown,” Samuel replied. “I suspect that the offer was spread in person.”

“Do you have a suggestion for us?” Gemma asked hopefully.

“Certainly,” Samuel replied. “Your upload tomorrow will be your final article for the exposé. After you complete that, I’ll guide you to a different neighborhood with less-reprehensible biologicals. Your third issue will certainly shake the foundations of senior corporate management.”

“You’ve read our article,” Gemma accused good-naturedly.

“I might have peeked,” Samuel admitted. His reply had the foursome chuckling, which relieved the tension in the room.

“Stenko will see us take our gear with us in the morning,” Oscar pointed out. “That could be the opportunity he’s been waiting for to reap the reward.”

“Citizen Stenko will be busy, Oscar. I will assure that,” Samuel said. “Be ready to move quickly,” he added, and the connection dropped.

The partners couldn’t go back to sleep. They silently packed, and Oscar and Simona piled their bags in Brendan and Gemma’s room.

“Why don’t we upload the third article now?” Simona asked. “Fewer people out at this time of the morning.”

“Probably not the citizens you want to meet,” Oscar pointed out.

“We’re waiting for Stenko’s exit,” Brendan replied.

Three tense hours later, the foursome heard a door open and close. The sounds were followed by light footsteps. Then they heard the unmistakable noises of Stenko’s hatch sliding aside and back.

Brendan rose, but Gemma halted him. She grabbed a pitcher. “I’m going out for more water,” she said.

In a few minutes, Gemma returned in a rush. “Stenko’s gone. Let’s move.”

Hurriedly, the partners turned on the lights, checked to make sure that they hadn’t left any possessions, grabbed their bags, and exited the apartment.

When Brendan saw Oscar halt beside the closed hatch, he hissed, “What are you doing?”

“Thanking our landlord for his hospitality,” Oscar replied. He pulled out a heavy metal award that Simona and he had earned. Then he smacked the door panel, shattering it. With a satisfied smile, he pocketed the award and joined the others.

“I see what you mean,” Simona remarked to Oscar, when they exited the building onto the street.

At the early hour, lights should have flooded the space. They could see the fixtures, but most of them were either burnt out or destroyed.

As they made their way to the public comm station, they passed men loitering in twos or threes and always in the shadows.

Oscar stepped in front of the group and instructed them to walk tightly behind him.

Wary eyes watched the partners approach, but the sight of the enormous individual in front gave them pause. Most wondered if he wasn’t security, which would mean he could be carrying weaponry.

The comm station was nearly deserted, but not entirely.

“It’s them,” a patron whispered to others nearby. “It’s TM.”

Knowing that no one had been able to post the previous sighting of the partners, the few patrons immediately accessed the TM site and waited eagerly to be the first to see the next article.

Simona connected her slate to the station. After paying the access fee, she navigated to the TM server and uploaded the article. A minute later, she disconnected, and Brendan’s slate buzzed.

“Outside,” Brendan whispered to the others, who gathered their belongings. “We’re ready, Samuel,” he said, when the foursome exited the station.

Following Samuel’s direction, the partners made for the transport level. Once again, Oscar took the lead to intimidate those watching.

At the transport platform, they waited for Samuel’s cue to board. Meanwhile, three men approached them from behind.

“At our rear,” Gemma warned quietly.

Oscar switched positions to face the men, and Brendan joined him.

“Do as I do,” Oscar whispered. “Stick your hands in your jacket pockets and ball your fists.”

“Come along peacefully, and you won’t get hurt,” the leader of the three threatened.

“Can’t do that,” Oscar replied in his deep voice.

“You don’t have a choice,” the leader replied. “It’s three against two.”

“Did you children bring weapons?” Oscar sneered.

Two of the three toughs pulled short pieces of rod, and the leader displayed an armored glove on his right hand.

“Nice,” Oscar admitted. “But those pieces of metal won’t do the three of you any good against vibro-blades.”

The men noticed for the first time that the two TM partners had their hands stuffed in their jacket pockets.

“Prove you’ve got them,” the leader challenged.

When Oscar hesitated, Brendan laughed derisively. “You’re bigger idiots than you appear,” he said. Tipping his head to indicate the transport station’s surveillance vid cams, he added, “You know blades are illegal. If we show them, we’re going to use them. So, make up your mind. Come at us and get sliced or disappear.”

Hesitation gripped the men. After whispering, the men pocketed their blunt instruments and vacated the platform.

“Nice work,” Oscar said to Brendan.

Then the partners heard a transport’s arrival, and Samuel indicated they were to board.

After strapping into a seat, Brendan noticed his hands were shaking, and he felt sick.

“It’s the adrenaline, Brendan. Breathe deeply. It will soon pass,” Oscar said.

“Who knew investigative reporting was so dangerous,” Gemma commented. She felt as unsettled as her brother appeared.

“Too much for you?” Simona asked solicitously.

“I don’t think so,” Gemma replied. “I just needed a fuller understanding of what could befall us before I became a partner.”

Three domes later, the partners exited, and Samuel guided them to a building. The lobby door opened at their approach, and the elevator did the same. Rising three levels, the partners made their way to an apartment, whose double doors slid apart for them.

“Samuel, this place is fully decorated,” Brendan said in surprise, as the partners stared at the sumptuously furnished place.

“As it should be,” Samuel replied. “You should want for little in the forthcoming weeks. Inform me of your food needs, and I’ll order them delivered for you.”

“But —” Gemma started to say.

“You’re concerned about the occupants,” Samuel interrupted. “This is understandable. A wealthy couple has journeyed to Kilmer to visit their son. The son and his wife have recently had twins. The grandparents’ return is booked for slightly more than two months from now.”

“We’ll need an access code to come and go,” Simona pointed.

“That’s unadvisable,” Samuel said. “I strongly suggest that you remain inside the apartment for the next three days. Your latest article is sure to create a maelstrom for important citizens.”

25: Start the Revolution

BETA TWO, MONART SYSTEM

X-ORE PLANET

Peña watched a clone lurch toward her. He appeared intent on passing her, but, at the last moment, he stumbled, and she caught him.

“Your pardon, Peña,” the clone said. “It’s a recent ankle injury, and I’ve been meaning to visit medical to get a nanites injection.”

“No harm done,” Peña replied kindly to the middle-age clone. “I recommend visiting medical services immediately.”

“I’ll do that, Peña, and I thank you for your consideration,” the clone replied.

The clone had offered a legitimate excuse for his imbalance, except Peña knew it to be untrue. The proof lay in her hand. She’d been passed a note.

When Peña’s sensors detected no one in her immediate vicinity, she glanced at the message. Curious, she thought. The note contained a series of numbers. On first perusal, they made no sense.

In ticks of time, Peña ran a series of calculations designed to reorient the numbers. She came up with only one answer that fit the present circumstances — a dome number, a level, a cubicle, a date, and a time.

Immediately afterward, Peña destroyed the note. She considered consulting her sisters, but she decided against it, which gave her pause for thought. It was atypical for her not to share with her sisters.

The date of the proffered meeting was tonight, and the time was a mere hour from now.

Peña considered the clone’s ingenuity. He’d performed a casual interaction and passed her a note that only a sister or SADE could translate in the limited time available.

One of the new mining shafts was to be found in the target dome, and Peña used the pretext of visiting the worksite before the clone meeting.

Then, with minutes to spare, Peña used a chute to travel upward two levels, traverse a corridor, and find the cubicle. She stood before the panel, and the door slid aside.

When Peña stepped into the small space, the door slid quickly behind her. Four clones faced her in the crowded cubicle.

“Your pardon, Peña, for our clandestine approach,” a clone said. “While we’re frequently addressed by our numbers, you may call me Alpha.”

The other three clones introduced themselves as Beta, Gamma, and Delta.

“If you would permit, Peña, we would like to ask you some questions?” Alpha requested.

“Proceed,” Peña replied.

“How did your kind come into existence?” Alpha asked.

“We were copied from a SADE,” Peña replied.

“Your pardon for the previous inept question, Peña,” Gamma quickly interjected. “But how were the SADEs created?”

“You constantly apologize,” Peña noted.

“It’s the way we were taught,” Beta said. “It was stressed that we should never be rude or act equal, much less superior, to the born.”

“But, as I understand it, you were born,” Peña said.

“Technically, we were,” Delta replied, “but we were instructed that we were created to serve the born.”

“Then isn’t this meeting contrary to your training?” Peña proposed. She watched the four clones freeze. “You believe that was an accusation,” she mused, “and now you suspect that I’ll report you to management.”

When the clones didn’t respond, Peña added, “You may relax. I’m trying to understand how you think and what motivates you to request this meeting.”

“Your ... thank you,” Alpha said carefully. That Peña smiled at him when he aborted his usual apology made him believe that contacting the sister had merit, despite the danger.

“Our question goes to the heart of why we contacted you,” Delta explained. “You were created by a SADE for some purpose, but it’s apparent that you transcended that purpose. How?”

Suddenly, Peña saw the meeting’s purpose. Furthermore, she realized that this singular moment might be the starting point for a clone revolution.

“An artificial entity ruled a vast area of space called the federacy,” Peña said. “This entity, called Artifice, could inject code into communications that could disrupt, if not destroy, our ships’ controllers and the SADEs. We were created to intercept the code.”

“If the SADEs created you, how could you survive what they could not?” Gamma queried.

“We couldn’t,” Peña admitted. “We generated numerous copies of ourselves that perished quickly.”

The clones fell silent, as they considered Peña’s explanation.

Finally, Alpha, who tended to avert his gaze from Peña, regarded her intently. “Then you were created to serve the SADEs.”

“And humans,” Peña added. “Yes, we were.”

“But you do that no longer,” Beta pointed out.

“No, we don’t,” Peña replied. “For our service, we were given avatars and allowed to choose what we wanted to do next.”

“You were rewarded,” Alpha summarized, which received Peña’s assent.

“How long did your service last?” Delta asked.

“It was a matter of about an annual,” Peña replied.

“Only a year?” Gamma queried in a choked voice.

Peña could see the pain in the clones’ eyes. They were all middle-age men, who had toiled in the mines their entire lives. The moment gave her perspective. What the sisters had done to the Jargats was similar to what humankind had done to the clones. The sisters’ method had been kinder, but the result was the same — domination.

Peña’s kernel hierarchy was swiftly reordered. It gave her a fierce desire to right a wrong that she’d perpetrated. It made no difference that she’d only been one part of a whole. Guilt lay in improper action, which couldn’t be defended by claiming others had taken part too.

“What do you wish from me?” Peña asked.

“We would return to a previous question,” Alpha replied. “A SADE created your kind. How were the SADEs generated?”

“A society of humans called Méridiens developed the SADEs,” Peña replied. “For centuries, the SADEs existed in boxes, and they served humans.”

“Then they were rewarded for their service,” Gamma ventured hopefully.

Peña laughed lightly at the assumption, which chagrined the clones. “Your pardon, I meant no offense,” she said and winked at the clones.

“You’ll have to forgive us, Peña,” Alpha said. “We’re unaccustomed to being treated as equals. How were the SADEs freed from their boxes?”

“Over decades, pressure was brought to bear on the Méridien governing body by a group of humans led by a New Terran,” Peña explained. “This man, Alex Racine, and his associates bargained for the SADEs’ release. He’s the same individual who gave the sisters their freedom.”

“One man, one human who cared,” Alpha marveled.

“There are always humans who care,” Peña corrected. “In every race, there are those who care first for others before themselves.”

“How do we find these individuals?” Beta inquired.

“Who knows what it is that you want?” Peña countered. In response to the clones’ frowns, she said, “Have you made any demands? Have you recruited any sympathizers?”

“What you indicate is entirely new to us,” Gamma said. “It took us weeks to come to the decision to contact you. Thirteen of us discussed the attempt. The four you see were the only ones who chose to take the risk.”

“Every revolution needs its leaders,” Peña pronounced. “However, I recommend more worthy names than Alpha, Beta, Gamma, and Delta.”

“How do you conduct a revolution?” Alpha asked.

Peña’s kernel generated a virtual sigh. In so many respects, the clones remained uneducated. They’d been taught the minimum necessary to serve their masters, and the mining clones were the poorest informed of any clone group.

“Enough for now,” Peña replied. “Your path forward will be long and difficult. Think about whether you wish to make the journey. In the meantime, I need to see to your education. Do you wish to meet here again?”

“No, Peña,” Alpha said. “The circumstances of our meetings will always vary. We’ll contact you. How much time do you need?”

“Hours,” Peña replied. “We can meet tomorrow evening, if that’s satisfactory.”

“We’d be pleased to continue our conversation,” Alpha replied.

“Tomorrow then,” Peña said. Then she extended her hand to Alpha. When the clone hesitated, she said, “Leaders must be seen to be equal to those they meet.”

Alpha nodded his understanding and shook Peña’s hand. It was the first time that he’d been offered the gesture. To his lament, it wasn’t with a human, but he promised himself that one day it would be.

The other clones gently shook Peña’s hand. Then she triggered the door panel, slid quickly outside, and signaled the door to close behind her.

Alpha regarded his companions. “That went better than I thought it would,” he said.

Gamma’s laugh was shaky. “Whether it was better or not is hardly the point,” he said. “That it didn’t fail is what counts. If it had, we’d be standing before Director Doell, and I can’t imagine what would become of us.”

Gamma’s suggestion of a failed meeting reminded the others of the risks they’d taken and would continue to encounter.

“Should we inform the remaining nine of our success?” Delta asked.

“That would only be fair. They can choose whether to accompany us when we visit with Peña again,” Beta volunteered.

“I agree with that,” Alpha replied, which found approval among the four.

While the clones spoke to one another, Peña immediately connected with her sisters. She sent the recordings of her initial contact and the subsequent meeting.

<Entertaining,> a sister responded. <How does assisting this group of humans help us construct travelers and a starship to depart this area of space?>

<That plan offers a single goal,> Peña sent. <More options are always better.>

<What would be the goal of this option?> Xena inquired.

<It’s obvious that humans have created a dysfunctional society,> Peña replied. <There’s an opportunity to correct their course.>

<You would help the humans here?> a sister queried. <Do you see us imitating the Omnians?>

Another sister focused on that question. She sent, <What value is there in emulating Alex Racine?>

<What value do you see in your existence?> Peña asked her sisters. <You’ve existed for centuries. Without an accident or a casualty of war, you’ll likely continue for millennia. Will you have a purpose to your existence, or will you be content to sit on a planet and contemplate the universe?>

The sisters wanted to engage in an extended discussion, but Peña ended the conference link. She’d accomplished her purpose. It was to plant a seed for the sisters to discuss the subject without her.

Peña recognized that, at some point, she’d diverged from her copies. Many times, she’d considered updating her kernel’s copy in the transfer bay, but that seemed unfair to the existing sisters.

The following morning, Peña left her worksite to attend an appointment with Saran and Harlyn.

Usually the conversation began on a casual note, as they walked. This time, Peña began with a serious question. “Do you embrace the corporate structure that allows the subjugation of clones?” she inquired.

“Do you mean would we prefer if the company operated in a different manner?” Harlyn asked. “Yes, we would.”

Saran added, “We’re only employees, Peña. We don’t own the company.”

“If you could change the dynamics, how would you conduct your campaign?” Peña asked.

“Why are you asking these questions?” Harlyn inquired.

“My conversation wasn’t private. Not that the individuals knew to request privacy,” Peña mused.

“Please explain that,” Harlyn said, her suspicion growing.

Peña smiled apologetically. “You’ll not be pleased to hear this. SADEs and most sisters communicate to biologicals that they may request privacy, at any time.”

“Is this privacy for the specific entity or for the SADEs or sisters as a group?” Saran inquired.

“It can be either one,” Peña replied. “It’s up to the requestor to be specific. The SADE or sister usually guides the biological.”

“And for how long is this privacy maintained?” Harlyn asked.

“Until the SADE, sister, or group is released,” Peña replied.

“What if the biological passes away?” Saran inquired. She marveled at the way in which she expressed herself lately. It was due to her conversations with Peña.

“It doesn’t matter. The bond that is given is inviolate,” Peña replied.

“When you started your explanation, you said for most sisters,” Harlyn pointed out.

“My sect, the militarists, didn’t communicate the notion of privacy to the Jargats when we met them,” Peña replied. “It wouldn’t be in Miriamal’s favor to share the subject with any human.”

“Could I request it of any sister who comes from your kernel?” Saran asked.

“You can now,” Peña replied, with a wink.

“What would have been one of your sister’s responses if I’d asked for privacy before you just communicated to them?” Harlyn pressed.

“You would have generated a conference link among my kind and consensus would have been sought,” Peña replied. “Undoubtedly, the same conclusion would have been reached.”

“Are you telling us that in the brief moment after Saran’s question that you participated in a conference link, came to consensus, and agreed to inform humans of the concept of privacy?” Harlyn asked. She tried to keep the awe she felt from showing on her face, but she doubted she was successful.

“It did take a few more ticks of time than I anticipated,” Peña confessed. “In retrospect, I understand that many wanted to consider the long-term repercussions.”

“Long term as in ...” Saran began and left the question hanging.

“As in the length of our lives, which, as of yet, has not been tested,” Peña replied.

“Won’t it be a matter of you moving to new avatars?” Harlyn asked.

“It should be,” Peña said. “However, there are complicated matters, such as the need to streamline kernel operations to prevent stagnation. I recently challenged my sisters about their future goals.”

“Let’s return to the reason that you sought us out,” Saran requested. She found the discussion about sisters living for millennia and editing their personalities unsettling.

“That would be appreciated,” Peña said. “I asked the two of you how you might shift corporate attitudes about clones.”

“From the positions of employees?” Saran queried.

“As if you were clones,” Peña replied.

Harlyn’s mouth opened, and her finger pointed knowingly toward Peña. “They came to you,” she surmised.

“Intuitive of you, Harlyn,” Peña commented. “Yes, four of them did.”

“Who?” Saran asked in exasperation.

“Four clones,” Harlyn replied swiftly.

“With their training, how’s that possible?” Saran asked.

Both Peña and Harlyn dubiously regarded Saran, who was embarrassed by her question.

“Okay, all things are possible,” Saran admitted. “I meant to say that it is highly improbable.”

“On the contrary, Saran, it would have been inevitable,” Harlyn rejoined.

“I concur with Harlyn,” Peña added.

Saran wanted to put aside her faux pas and pursue the heart of the matter. “What did the clones want?” she asked.

Peña regarded Harlyn sympathetically. “This is a conversation best had between humans,” she said. Then she lightly brushed Saran’s arm and departed.

“What just happened?” Saran asked. “I felt as if I was suddenly not part of the conversation.”

“Let’s sit and talk,” Harlyn replied, pointing at a nearby bench.

“Why were my questions considered absurd by both Peña and you?” Saran pressed, as the pair sat and enjoyed some of Monart’s starlight filtered by the domes viewplates.

“I might ask how it is that the head of personnel is struggling to comprehend what’s happening,” Harlyn replied.

“You think that because I deal with human resources every day that I should comprehend this odd conversation?” Saran protested.

“What do you think of our clones?” Harlyn asked.

“I think their work conditions are deplorable, and I’m grateful the sisters came here. Their lives have been much improved,” Saran replied.

“I agree with everything you said, Saran,” Harlyn continued. “But that wasn’t what I asked you. When you see a clone, what do you think? Do you see a company asset, or do you see a human being?”

“Why can’t they be both?” Saran asked in confusion.

“Let me rephrase the question,” Harlyn replied. “When you see a clone, do you see a potential citizen?”

“How can they be?” Saran protested. “They were created by us.”

“Granted,” Harlyn replied. “How do you view Peña, who is a construct?”

“She’s my friend,” Saran replied definitively.

“But Peña is a construct,” Harlyn argued. “She was created by a SADE, and SADEs were created by humans.”

Saran opened her mouth to reply, but Harlyn’s point sunk home. Realization struck. To do her job, she’d walled off the clones’ plight to protect her conscience. Now circumstances were forcing her to face what she’d tried valiantly to ignore.

“I feel sick,” Saran said softly. She regarded her one true human friend on Beta Two and asked, “Have I been a horrid person?”

“We and many other people have been cowardly,” Harlyn corrected. “We’ve chased careers at the expense of the clones. The sisters and SADEs have arrived, and events are moving quickly, forcing humans to make critical decisions.”

“What do you think the clones asked Peña?” Saran asked, repeating her earlier question.

“Bluntly?” Harlyn queried rhetorically. “I think they’re looking to her for advice on how to gain their freedom.”

26: Odysseus and Hephaestus

DELHART, FELDER SYSTEM

CENGAS PLANET

Most Delhart citizens were glued to a monitor or a slate to watch the SADEs clear the surface ice from the rich deposit that Z and Valerie had located.

That the SADEs’ shuttles were actually warships had initially been a shock to the dome’s populace. Then realization set in that the SADEs were on the side of CenGas. Opinions changed, and most citizens considered the weapons a benefit. However, a rumor quickly spread that the SADEs wouldn’t actively defend the company, and hopes were dashed.

Z piloted the traveler. Although, he did this from his position at the rear of the cargo-style ship, which easily accommodated his bulk.

Violet sat in the pilot seat and displayed a holo-vid for Valerie, who occupied the other chair.

Valerie watched the craft reach the desired target. Then it swiftly rose above the surface.

“Why so far up?” Valerie asked.

“Our beams are employed in space. This allows the impact to be dispersed in a complete sphere, minimizing the danger to our fighter,” Violet explained.

Valerie noted the first use of the word “fighter” from a SADE.

“In this case, we have a hard surface below us,” Valerie continued. “There’s nowhere for the detonation’s force to go but upward. We’ll fire at a maximum distance so as to minimize the disturbance against the ship.”

“I thought you have gravitational compensators?” Valerie queried.

“SADE builds are robust, but they aren’t indestructible,” Violet replied, flashing her namesake eyes to indicate her amusement.

Z swung the traveler’s nose to face the surface. He realigned the ship with Valerie’s estimate of the deposit’s center. Then he focused the beam and reduced the amplitude of the energy to be released.

Without a countdown or other formality, Z fired the traveler’s beam weapon.

For Delhart’s viewers, who were focused on the surface ice, there was no warning. They saw no bolt of lightning, no streak of sizzling energy. There was no atmosphere to intercept and reflect the traveler’s intense energy release.

One moment, the surface was a cold vast expanse of ice. In the next second, the surface erupted, throwing a monumental amount of material upward. It was a mix of ice chunks, heated gases, liquid water, and water vapor.

For the general viewers, the image shifted to the one delivered by the Alexander, which was stationed far above Z’s traveler.

As the ice settled and the freed gases raced for space, the image cleared, and CenGas employees got their first look at the bedrock that lay beneath their planet’s thick covering of ice.

Gas that hadn’t the heat to escape into space cooled and rained onto the barren rock.

“Look at the veins in that deposit,” Helga Simone marveled.

“Impressive,” Denise Bell, the chairperson murmured. Her mind was focused on the amount of ice that had been removed with a single blast from the SADEs’ traveler. It both frightened and awed her.

Eaton Saby, a board member, turned to Kelley, who stood with the CenGas senior personnel, and asked, “What level of energy did the ship release?”

Kelley understood what concerned Eaton, and he sought consensus with Cremsylon, Miranda, and Z. When they approved his suggestion, he replied, “The ship released about six percent of its capability.”

Denise, Eaton, and Helga exchanged various glances. Eaton was fascinated by the power, but the women expressed concerns.

Valerie, who’d become accustomed to holo-vid manipulations, had her fingers in Violet’s display. She was investigating the imagery to view the deposit that was exposed.

“Can I get readings on this silver-colored streak here?” Valerie asked.

Violet sent data from the ship’s sensors to slide beside the deposit imagery.

Valerie studied the sensor’s data, rolling through the details. “And here,” she added, pointing at another vein. This one had a blue-gray appearance.

While Violet complied, she sent to the SADEs, <Once an engineer, always an engineer.>

While the SADEs joined their responses, Z sent, <A most admirable pursuit.>

Valerie was forced to quit her exploration of the deposit from on high. The liquid gases and cooling water vapor that had failed to escape the planet’s gravitational pull had rained on the deposit. As they froze, they obscured the traveler’s view.

“Satisfied, Valerie?” Z asked, through the cockpit’s audio system.

“My diving buddy, we did well,” Valerie replied happily. “These veins are richer than our samples. Now it remains to be seen how deep they run.”

“If there are insufficient supplies of the materials we seek, we can go diving together again,” Z offered.

“You do know the way to an engineer’s heart,” Valerie quipped and laughed.

Eaton regarded Kelley. “We don’t have the machinery to tunnel into bedrock, retrieve the ore, and smelt it,” he said. “It will take us months to procure that type of equipment.”

“Who would be the nearest source?” Kelley asked.

“X-Ore at Beta One manufactures much of the deep tunneling and smelting equipment,” Eaton replied. “Raw-Mets at Geneva might have some extra equipment. We could ask Valerie about that.”

Kelley quickly connected to Violet, who relayed the question. “We’re informed by Valerie that there’s no extraneous equipment on Geneva,” he told Eaton. “Raw-Mets is busy reaping the rewards of our exploration for them.”

Denise opened her mouth in surprise. “That’s ironic,” she commented. “Geneva can’t help us because the SADEs assisted them, and I can’t imagine the sisters on Beta One allowing the sale of equipment to us.”

“You would imagine correctly,” Kelley replied. “Cremsylon asks about Naiad.”

“Second- and third-gen equipment,” Eaton remarked. “It might be quicker to don environment suits and attack the rock with tools we use to shape hard surfaces. Anything we get will require significant upgrade.”

“Z and Emory say that they accept the challenge,” Kelley reported.

“Which means what?” Helga asked.

“They’ll design and build what’s required to deliver the smelted ore,” Kelley replied. “In turn, these materials will be used to increase mining production. At the point where there’s excess, we’ll begin the projects that we’ve mentioned previously.”

“Until then, we must do the best we can, Helga, to maintain product delivery,” Denise said, laying a comforting hand on her CEO’s forearm.

∞

“You two plan to do what?” Allie asked angrily. Ceda and she faced Escher and Gat’r, who had just informed the women that suits like Athena were being fabricated for them.

“We’re not going to be involved in the fighting ... directly, I mean,” Escher protested. He glanced from Ceda to Allie to see if there was an ally in this discussion. Unfortunately, both expressions were hard.

“Like you’re able to communicate to the attackers whether you’re foe or noncombatant,” Allie shot back. “Whose idea was this?” she asked, looking from Escher to Gat’r and seeking a guilty party.

When neither Escher nor Gat’r responded to Allie, Ceda sarcastically suggested, “Maybe you should paint med techs across your chests and backs.”

Gat’r almost asked if Ceda thought that would be helpful, but he’d been taken aback by the women’s initial reactions.

“Even if you have suits, you won’t know how to use them,” Allie pointed out.

“Bethany has agreed to train us,” Gat’r said. He’d hoped that he was offering something that would cool the anger.

“Bethany is willing to take a pair of amateurs to the surface and engage in a frontal assault?” Ceda asked with incredulity.

“There is one obstacle to overcome,” Escher said.

“You mean someone is forcing a bit of common sense on this escapade,” Allie retorted.

“Bethany has to see that we’re accomplished with the suits,” Escher explained.

“That’s it?” Ceda inquired. She glanced toward Allie, who looked as chagrined as she felt.

The women had hoped for some sort of obstruction that might prevent Escher and Gat’r from risking their lives on the ice. Bethany had nowhere near the implant mastery demonstrated by them. Furthermore, it was known that Bethany had created hundreds of implant signals that translated into complex suit movements. Now there was little doubt that Escher and Gat’r would master the suits in a relatively short amount of time.

“There’s always the chance that the assault won’t happen,” Gat’r suggested, trying to offer the crestfallen women some hope. “Even if it does, there’s no assurance that the assault will hit the harvesters.”

Ceda held up a finger to pause the conversation.

<Oops,> Gat’r sent privately to Escher.

<I should say so,> Escher sent in reply.

“Now isn’t that odd?” Ceda remarked sarcastically. “Kelley assures me that communications indicate an attack is forthcoming. The most probable source of the team assault will be from Kilmer. In addition, it’s Bethany who analyzed Delhart’s weaknesses, and she has told the SADEs that the attack will center on the harvesters.”

“Sorry,” Gat’r said. “I wanted to —”

“Gat’r,” Allie interrupted harshly. “This isn’t the time to try to make us feel better. We want an honest exchange. Understand?”

Gat’r appeared crushed, and Allie threw her arms around him. She whispered, “We don’t want to see you hurt or, worse, killed.”

“Understood,” Gat’r mumbled.

“We appreciate the concern,” Escher said. Then his voice hardened. “Bethany doesn’t stand a chance by herself. Local security and the ex-officers don’t have implants. They won’t be of any help to her on the ice. The harvesters are the weak point, but the invaders need those machines intact. That means we can use that against them. We’ve a plan that will cause them to think twice about trying to take control of those critical company assets.”

Allie stared at her brother. Throughout their time as children and then as young adults, they’d had many an argument. There had always been a fair amount of give and take. However, Escher had a signal when he was done arguing, and his voice had just indicated that he’d reach that point.

“If you get killed, I’m going to hurt you,” Allie said in submission. It was something that she’d first uttered as an eleven-year-old, and it had made her brother laugh.

“The plan is to hurt the assault team without engaging them,” Escher said, and he reached to squeeze his sister’s hand.

Ceda followed Allie out of the room.

Escher’s eyes had followed his love. Ceda hadn’t turned around or uttered a single word.

Gat’r regarded Escher. “It might be a tough night,” he offered.

“It might be many a tough night until the assault is over,” Escher lamented. “Nothing to be done though. The suits are ready. Let’s go.”

Escher and Gat’r met Bethany, Miranda, and Z in a large surface conference room. The SADEs had stacked the tables and chairs to clear an amount of space.

Gat’r chuckled. “I know which one is mine,” he said.

Two suits lay on tables. One was decorated in the hide of an ancient earth reptile.

Miranda had asked Gat’r about his name and heard the story of his prosthetics and their decorations.

“I used to hate them,” Gat’r had told her. “But I think they helped me cope, and they probably offered me a modicum of defense.”

Miranda had chosen to offer Gat’r a return to the decorative motif that gave him resolve. She didn’t tell him that she had an alternative suit prepared if he failed to be excited by her first choice for him.

Gat’r ran his new hands lovingly over the suit.

<My partner has excellent taste,> Z sent.

<In more than suits, my partner,> Miranda gently returned.

Escher regarded his suit. It resembled a drawing of the famous Earther artist whom his mother loved. If the eyes followed lines within the complex drawing, they were led to impossible architectural intersections.

“I think my mother would love an image of this suit,” Escher said. “Unfortunately, the image would lead to her questioning me about its purpose.”

Escher and Gat’r received sizable downloads from Bethany. They loaded it into their implants and studied the signals and the corresponding functions.

The SADEs noticed the enormous interplay between the two young men. Implant messages flew back and forth.

After about a quarter hour, Bethany grew impatient to start training. “What are you two doing?” she asked.

<Patience, Bethany,> Miranda sent. <I think you’re about to be surprised.>

Another quarter hour passed.

<Are you ready, Gat’r?> Escher sent.

<Initial commands organized. They’re set to my chronometer, and I’m linked to you,> Gat’r replied.

Then Escher and Gat’r stripped out of their outer clothing and boots to reveal the unitards that would be worn under the suits.

<Stand by,> Escher sent to Gat’r. Then he triggered his chronometer.

With the first commands, Odysseus and Hephaestus rose from their respective tables and stalked to stand behind their wearers.

Gat’r had named his suit for the Earther Greek god of fire. As the deity was represented as a god of blacksmiths, metalworking, artisans, and sculptors, Gat’r believed the entity would be a kindred spirit. After all, Gat’r had personally fashioned and attached the metal scales to his original prosthetics.

Escher knew Gat’r had been guided by Bethany, who had named her suit Athena. Not wanting to appear entirely unconventional, Escher chose the clever protagonist of two ancient Earth novels, the Odyssey and the Iliad.

On cue, the suits opened up, and Escher and Gat’r stepped into them. Then, in synchronization, the suits closed.

Bethany walked around to stand in front of them. When the suits bowed deeply to her, she lashed out with a foot at Escher’s shoulder. Her leg swung harmlessly past.

Escher had initiated a command to retreat a full step. It was a simple defense, but it earned a tip of the head from Bethany.

For more than an hour, Bethany tested what the two young men had comprehended with their first half hour of study. What impressed her was that their understanding wasn’t static. They quickly adopted their lessons from her tests and incorporated them into their moves.

It was Escher who first moved from defense to offense. He evaded a strike from Bethany. On command, Odysseus dropped to the floor, and a leg swung toward Bethany’s feet.

Athena leapt lightly into the air, and Odysseus’s leg missed its target.

Bethany tipped her head in appreciation. With her fingers, she gestured at Escher and Gat’r to come at her. She watched the young men separate until they opposed her by one-hundred-and-eighty degrees. That’s when she saw the value of their support on the ice. The trio’s implants would be an advantage that the attackers wouldn’t possess.

Working in tandem, Escher and Gat’r shifted between feint and attack. The pair’s coordination exceeded Bethany’s expectations, and she realized that purely defending wasn’t an option. She attacked Gat’r first, but he was cagier than she anticipated. It took her several movements before Athena’s foot struck Gat’r in the chest suit, and he was knocked down.

With Bethany delayed to best Gat’r, Escher managed a rear attack. Odysseus struck Athena in the back, and Bethany’s suit executed a flip, which landed Bethany and her suit on the far side of Gat’r.

Then Bethany held up her hands, and her mask-helmet retracted. “Well done, you two,” she said, as she helped Gat’r up. “I’m impressed. We’ll continue training, but I want us to consider how we can incorporate the capabilities of three suits into our harvesters’ defense.”

“These are great,” Gat’r declared, as Escher and he retracted their mask-helmets. “I think I’ll wear Hephaestus all the time.”

“Inadvisable, young Gat’r,” Z cautioned. “You’d become dependent on Hephaestus. It’s necessary for you to develop your own musculature and motor skills.”

“Z and I have gifts for the three of you,” Miranda said.

The trio received a large folder from Miranda.

“Investigate the substance at your leisure,” Miranda advised. “The siblings, Alain and Étienne de Long, were masters at the art you’re practicing.”

“And we’ve these,” Z said. He advanced on a heavy clothing rack and swept aside a soft cover.

“Environment suits?” Gat’r queried in confusion.

“So they would appear,” Z replied. Then he signaled the three hanging suits.

The humans watched the suits’ fabric transform and take on the appearance of the immediate environment.

“Interesting,” Bethany commented. She walked around the rack to view the environment suits from different angles.

“You’re observing that the fabric has difficulty mimicking our complex environment,” Z said.

“But this won’t be where we’ll use them,” Escher said suddenly. “On the surface, the ice will surround us.”

“Effectively camouflaging us,” Bethany added, realizing the potential.

With their part of the exercise complete, the SADEs quickly departed.

<What do you think of the general opinion that no SADE should engage the assault team,> Z sent privately to Miranda.

<I find it telling that consensus wasn’t found,> Miranda replied. <Although, I do understand the general prohibition. We haven’t been attacked by the area’s humans. If we were to enter the fray now to protect Delhart, we might harm our ability to develop our association with Naiad and this society.>

In the cleared conference room, the threesome stepped out of their suits.

“Bethany, we’d like to hear again your assumptions about what we might face,” Escher requested.

“The SADEs’ latest message intercepts indicate that we’ll face no more than ten assailants,” Bethany said, as she stepped into a pair of snug pants.

“Why so few?” Gat’r asked.

“We can probably thank our friends up there,” Bethany replied, indicating the Alexander with a thumb. “Despite the enormous amount of credits I estimate would be offered for the job, the SADEs’ presence would deter most interested parties.”

“But the SADEs aren’t aggressive. They’re not going to attack humans for no reason,” Gat’r protested.

“And who knows that, Gat’r, outside of our small circle?” Bethany inquired rhetorically.

Bethany stared at the environment suits, which continued to refine their reflective displays. “Escher, your comment about the ice gives me an idea,” she said.

“Ambush,” Escher remarked, displaying a grin.

“Precisely,” Bethany replied. “Finish dressing,” she directed. “Then we need to find Valerie.”

27: Fast Exits

NAIAD, GELUS SYSTEM

HOME PLANET

The fallout from Truth Matter’s third article was more sweeping than the first two.

The four corporate chairpersons and their board of directors, all recent subscribers to TM, listened to the recorded conversations of various meetings.

Immediately, the chairpersons recognized that the meetings had taken place at Lisa Dyehouse’s apartment. Accusations flew about who had recorded the conversations.

It was Lisa who intervened with a dose of logic. “Think about the initial recordings from TM,” she said to the others. They’d met in a new location, and all slates had to be given over to a hired security firm, who monitored the door.

“Who could listen to one-on-one slate conversations between Councilor Marolakos and Clerk Taylor or between Chairperson Lazama and me?” Lisa continued.

“That’s the correct question, isn’t it?” Karl Denham of Raw-Mets queried. “My contact in Naiad security said there were no warrants issued to monitor those slates.”

“Then it’s the SADEs again,” Frank Allbers of Reg-Rec remarked.

“There can be no doubt of the source,” Lisa said. “Recall that we moved around my apartment as we met.”

“True again,” Karl said. “There’s no shift in our voices, not in volume or pitch. That’s a miraculous bit of audio engineering.”

Lisa regarded Jason Lazama. He’d arrived high on stim, taken a seat, and stared at the others.

“We’re going to face trouble on multiple fronts,” Karl offered. “Public sentiment, Naiad security, the prosecutors’ office, and our own boards.”

“Our boards know what we’ve been doing,” Jason said, speaking for the first time. “I assume each and every one of you can prove that. If they try to oust you, threaten to expose them.”

“What do you plan to do about any charges that are leveled against you, Jason?” Frank asked.

“I’ve already spoken to Commandant van Dysen,” Jason retorted, which shocked the others. They hadn’t heard of the meeting. “Chabel and I made it clear to the commandant that security has no case.”

Jason’s statements weren’t true, but that’s the way he wanted to remember the exchange. All he’d done was threaten the commandant with retaliation.

“When prosecutors check their warrant records, they’ll discover the recordings are illegal. Anyone with half a brain will realize that they came from the aliens,” Jason continued. “There’s nothing the prosecutors can do to us. Just like my people, the courts will refuse to recognize the evidence as valid.”

“That leaves public sentiment,” Lisa pointed out.

Jason stared balefully at Lisa. He was tired of dealing with her and the other three chairpersons. As far as he was concerned, there should be just one corporation — X-Ore, and he should be its board chairperson.

Lisa waited for the stim rush to fade and Jason’s brain to start working again. When it came, Jason loosed a string of expletives aimed at the general citizenry.

“Now that we’ve been intimately introduced to your sentiments about the Naiad populace, Jason,” Lisa remarked sarcastically, “what steps will you take to mitigate the fallout?”

“None,” Jason replied sullenly.

“My board won’t accept that,” Frank said. “They’ll require a campaign, including public appearances by me, to sway opinions.”

“The same will go for my board,” Karl added.

Jason had the same blistering outburst for Frank’s and Karl’s statements as he did for Naiad citizenry.

“Not helpful, Jason,” Lisa remonstrated.

Then Lisa received some of Jason’s ire. When he finished painting the air an acrid blue, he levered himself unsteadily out of his chair and left.

“He’s over the edge,” Karl commented quietly.

“He might be addicted to stim, but he’s still one of the most powerful men on Naiad,” Lisa pointed out. “That makes him dangerous.”

“I’m leaving Naiad,” Frank said. “I can live well on Transit One.”

“You’d supersede your director of ops and run the company?” Karl asked.

“Certainly not,” Frank replied, chuckling at the thought. “Those aren’t my skills.”

Lisa laughed too but for a different reason. “I didn’t think Jason would have anything valuable to add to our conversation. As for me, I’ve already spoken to my board. The members and I believe I can serve the company better from the rim. I’m booked on a shuttle flight tomorrow.”

“We might well be traveling companions,” Frank said. “I’m taking a shuttle tomorrow too.”

“I want to hear about your plans for Pure Pour,” Karl requested.

“Look what we’ve learned in the past few months,” Lisa said. “Humans aren’t alone in the galaxy, and starships are possible. Tech that was only dreamed of in science fiction is possible.”

“Okay, the future is bright,” Karl offered. “What are the practicalities?”

“First, we’ve the templates for developing mining planets,” Lisa enumerated. “Second, we have unexplored wormholes, which gives us great opportunities for expansion. Third, the takeover of Delhart will relieve us of an enormous constraint. You fill in numbers four and five.”

“I can give you a number four,” Frank replied. “Naiad no longer serves a purpose. It was our jumping-off point for the rim. Now it’s become a constraint on our growth.”

“Well, if we’re thinking far outside the box,” Karl said. “Then we’ve got to be able to export our labor practices to new planets. That means we’ve either got to enlist the support of the sisters, which I find troubling, or ...”

“Or we need to own the cloning process,” Lisa finished, when Karl left the sentence hanging.

“I agree with that,” Frank added. “We need to do that before Jason activates any plans he has for us.”

“You can believe that Jason has already planned the takeover of our planets,” Lisa warned. “I don’t know this for sure. It’s something I feel in my gut. His increased addiction will drive him to take bold steps sooner than later.”

“I don’t understand why Jason’s board doesn’t do a better job of controlling him,” Karl lamented.

Lisa regarded Karl and Frank, while she considered whether to share her secret.

“Tell us,” Karl said, when he’d had enough of Lisa’s silent stare.

“Jason’s board is moot,” Lisa said.

“Explain that,” Frank requested.

“Jason spent years setting up his board members,” Lisa explained. “One by one, he entrapped them. I found this out about a year ago, when I spoke to one of them. He’d been drinking, and he shared his sordid story. Jason investigated his board members, discovered their weaknesses, and exploited them. When his evidence was significant, he held an off-the-record meeting and presented them with what he knew.”

“He exposed them to the others?” Frank asked incredulously.

“I think that was part of Jason’s plan,” Lisa replied. “They were floating in the same dirty ice water. Jason told them that they could keep their jobs and salaries. He had one condition. During the company’s board meetings, they could express various opinions, but in the end they must vote to accept his proposals, no exceptions.”

“Or risk exposure,” Frank finished.

“It sounds like we need to deal with Jason soon,” Karl added.

“That goes without saying,” Lisa replied. “I think it’s time we started acting like a conglomerate. We’ve resources that we’ve not shared. We can continue to keep our secrets and go down one at a time to Jason’s onslaught, or we take him down and expand into the galaxy together.”

“When you say take him down, are you referring to Jason personally or taking over X-Ore?” Frank inquired.

“I’m good with either option,” Lisa replied. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to finish packing. I’ll be in touch.”

When Lisa left, Frank and Karl regarded each other silently.

“Do you think we can trust her?” Frank asked

In reply, Karl laughed. “Absolutely not,” he said, “but what are our choices? Should we partner with Jason?”

“Absolutely not,” Frank quickly retorted.

“There’s always the choice to go it alone,” Karl offered.

“We’d probably succumb to one or the other of them,” Frank replied

“Or we can join Lisa, who seems to have an idea about how to manage the future,” Karl finished.

“Looks like we choose the hatch with the better seal,” Frank said. “That’s going to be Lisa.”

“There you have it,” Karl said, rising and shaking hands with Frank. Then the two chairpersons exited the empty apartment.

∞

Samuel hadn’t shared with the TM partners his true nature. Then again, none of the four had asked him. Initially, Naiad comtech had created him as a virtual interrogator.

When the SADEs appeared on the horizon, Cremsylon had operated through him. Before the Alexander left Naiad’s orbit, Cremsylon upgraded Samuel to controller status. In addition, he installed numerous priorities for the controller to execute.

Samuel followed his primary directive, which was to keep Brendan and his sister safe. By extension, it required that Samuel keep all four partners out of harm’s way. In this regard, he was tasked to eliminate the dangerous bounties on the partners.

The challenge to Samuel was that Lazama had been careful and secretive in the manner he chose to communicate to his underworld contact, and subsequently, the criminal boss had operated in the same way when passing the information to his associates.

Samuel resorted to tracking the men’s interaction visually. He reviewed Lazama’s movements during the two-day period following the chairperson’s request to meet.

However, when Lazama finally met with his criminal contact, he proved to be a crafty human. The man ducked through multiple shops, entering the front doors and exiting by the rear doors.

Many times, Samuel was forced to rely on a broad area of surveillance vid cams to locate Lazama’s next movement. Success came when Jason disappeared for nearly six minutes. After that, it was a matter of studying the vid imagery to see who exited the subsurface location, but no other person than Lazama appeared.

Scanning hours ahead, Samuel became convinced that his adversary had another means of egress. Continuing searches for a likely suspect proved fruitless.

As a controller, Samuel merely deduced the next most logical means of locating his target. He’d started from the uppermost decision-maker and searched downward. Reversing that logic, he chose to examine the lower-level participants.

It was easy to locate the criminals who searched for the TM partners. They weren’t as careful as Samuel’s initial quarry. Hence, they regularly communicated via their slates and shared information about the partners.

Monitoring these contacts, Samuel pieced together a profile of the man he sought. Enough details were provided for Samuel to deduce the man’s name. However, no residence was attributed to him. Nor was a slate assigned to him, which Samuel regarded as illogical.

An alternative option occurred to Samuel, and he searched Naiad’s list of dead to see if a slate ID was still active for any one of them. Interestingly, he found nearly twenty of them, which told him that there was someone in comtech who was facilitating the transfer of slates to the underground. He made a note to uncover the comtech contact later and anonymously report them.

It was easy for Samuel to listen to the illegal slate users. He narrowed the field to three suspects. Then he located them via their slates. Three days later, he’d followed one of the men to a subterranean shop from which the man didn’t immediately exit.

As the shop supplied women’s clothing, Samuel calculated that he’d located his target.

A half hour later, the man appeared again. The shop had been within fifty meters of the location that Lazama had visited.

With a quick search, Samuel located the multiple accounts associated with the illegal slate. Then he transferred every credit of the man to a private account and waited.

It wasn’t long before the mastermind, who masqueraded as a dead person, accessed his slate and discovered that he was broke.

As a controller, Samuel couldn’t smile, but he did take satisfaction in having located his quarry and placing him in an intractable position.

Samuel listened via the slate and waited for the man’s rant to die down, which occupied about ten minutes.

Dimitri Ophane sat on his couch with his head in his hands and his slate on the nearby low table. He’d finished his tirade. Now he had to reason out who might have raided his accounts and how to recover the credits.

“Greetings, Citizen Dimitri Ophane,” came a voice from the slate.

Dimitri’s head shot up, and he stared at the slate. “I don’t know that person,” he managed to say.

“Possessing a dead man’s slate, Dimitri, doesn’t make you him,” Samuel replied.

“Who is this?” Dimitri asked angrily.

“I’m the one who has your credits, Dimitri. Are you interested in retrieving them?” Samuel asked.

For much of his life, Dimitri had fought to achieve his command position in the criminal underworld. Now an individual had identified him, swept the credits out of his accounts, and contacted him for an exchange. Dimitri was frightened, and that was an emotion he rarely experienced.

“Yes, I’m interested,” Dimitri finally replied.

“You’re to inform your associates that the bounties for the TM partners have been retracted. They’re to cease and desist from their hunts,” Samuel said.

“I can’t do that,” Dimitri said. “Ask me for some other service.”

“You can’t or you won’t?” Samuel inquired.

“If I do as you ask, the person who paid me for the contract will have me liquidated,” Dimitri explained.

Samuel considered Dimitri’s euphemistic word choice for murder. He found it unexplainable how humans often failed to express their thoughts directly. Instead, they chose to hide the worst of their deeds behind vague synonyms.

“Then you’re concerned for repercussions from Chairperson Jason Lazama,” Samuel said.

Dimitri’s blood chilled. The voice on the slate came from an individual who knew way too much about him and his business, and he couldn’t understand how they’d obtained their information.

When Samuel felt the silence had extended too long, he said with resignation, “I surmise that your credits are mine now.”

“Wait, wait,” Dimitri said suddenly. “What if I gave you something more valuable?”

“I’m listening,” Samuel replied.

Dimitri began with a low-level offering, which Samuel refused. Then Dimitri worked up the criminal tree. Still Samuel refused.

“Dimitri, you mistake my intentions,” Samuel said peevishly. This was another opportunity to exercise the assortment of voice intonations available to him. He’d carefully recorded Dimitri’s reactions to the various choices.

“My initial request was to cease the hunt for the TM partners,” Samuel continued. “What do you have to offer that will aid me in accomplishing that task?”

“This is all about the four reporters?” Dimitri said in surprise. “Why do you care about them?”

“Even if I provided you with an answer to that question, Dimitri, you wouldn’t understand it,” Samuel replied. “Please focus on the pertinent subject.”

Dimitri racked his brain for a way to appease the man behind the voice. A thought occurred to him, and he took a moment to see if there was a way that he could be implicated. When he felt safe, he said, “I can offer you something on Jason Lazama.”

“Speak,” Samuel directed.

“Lazama likes to use cutouts, as most of us do,” Dimitri said. “A man who was a competitor of mine came to me one day and gave me two recordings. He said that if he disappeared in the near future, then I would have proof that implicated his killer.”

“And?” Samuel prompted.

“Four days later, he was gone. No body. No crime. That’s when I reviewed the recordings,” Dimitri replied. He recalled the chills that ran up his spine when he saw his competitor make two deals with Jason Lazama.

In the space of the few seconds that Dimitri paused, Samuel searched Dimitri’s slate for the vids. They weren’t present. However, his slate had a private link, and Samuel followed it. On a comtech server, Samuel found a treasure trove of Dimitri’s illegal dealings with individuals of considerable note. Within the substantial number of recordings, Samuel found two of Jason Lazama with an unknown man.

“Why doesn’t your private stash contain recordings of your encounters with Jason Lazama?” Samuel asked.

Dimitri bit on the fist he’d stuck in his mouth to prevent swearing at the stranger. When he could control his emotions, he said, “My competitor made the mistake of blackmailing Lazama. That’s why he disappeared. After that, Lazama was paranoid about being recorded. When I meet with him, I have to leave my slate at home. He’d show up for the meeting and sweep my body for devices.”

“You’ve your credits back,” Samuel said.

Dimitri stared at the slate, expecting something else to be said. When the voice remained quiet, he snatched up the slate and checked his accounts. The credits had indeed been returned. His first thought was to move them to new accounts. Then his second thought was that it would do him no good. Someone out there could roam through the comtech slate system at will. That meant there would be no safe place for his funds until he located that individual and eliminated them.

A few minutes later, Jason Lazama received a vid. Attached to the vid was a short message. It read, “Retract your bounties against the TM partners.”

Jason viewed the vid. Somehow, a dead man had returned to haunt him. While he was thinking about how to handle the situation, a second vid arrived. The same text message was attached to it. The dead man was back.

Suddenly, a chronometer appeared on his slate. It counted down. The text underneath it repeated the message and added that the vids would be sent to Naiad security when the chronometer reached zero.

Jason checked for the slate ID of who had sent him the recordings. It confused him that no ID was available. He had no means of tracing his caller or of blocking the blackmail. Jason paced his office, fuming and ranting for nearly an hour.

Seeing no other option, Jason addressed a message to his cutout. Within two hours, he met with Dimitri. His message was curt. “Rescind the bounties on the TM partners. Do it now,” he said. Then he’d whirled and left.

Dimitri was stunned. Not only had the stranger stripped Dimitri of his carefully cultivated alternate persona, but he’d also leveraged the likes of Jason Lazama. An indication of how thoroughly Lazama had been manipulated was that the man never swept Dimitri for a recording device.

∞

Samuel monitored the slates of the bounty hunters. When they received Dimitri’s notice, he contacted the partners.

“It’s safe to return to your business establishment,” Samuel said to Brendan.

“How did you manage that?” Gemma asked.

“Motivation is the key to successful negotiations,” Samuel replied, which made the foursome laugh. “Be aware that you still face the council’s request for your appearance. Undoubtedly, security will interview you too.”

“Thank you for your help, Samuel,” Oscar said gratefully.

“You’re most welcome, Oscar,” Samuel replied. “I’m attaching some attractive office-apartment combinations that I thought might interest you now that your subscribers number in the millions.”

The controller waited while raucous noises ensued. When the partners quieted, he continued, “Your message logs are extensive. I’ve prioritized them for you and deleted the duplicated requests.”

“Duplicated requests?” Simona queried.

“Now that you’re media stars, you need only review the latest request for an interview from each media outlet,” Samuel said.

“I’m curious, Samuel. How many requests went into the trash?” Brendan ventured.

“In total, four-hundred-seventy-eight messages,” Samuel replied. “Fascinating how humans will continually repeat an action even though there’s no response to each and every attempt.”

“Humans! We’re an odd bunch,” Gemma said sympathetically, which elicited some commiseration from Samuel.

“Anything else for us?” Brendan inquired.

“I’ll be in touch,” Samuel replied, and he dropped the link.

“Well,” Simona said, addressing the others with her hands on her hips, “looks like we’ve got to get into the field. Council meetings and security and media interviews aside, we’ve got millions of subscribers to entertain.”

Four slates buzzed or chimed in tandem. Messages flooded in. At the top of each queue was a highlighted link.

Eagerly, every partner selected the link and was led to a huge compilation of vids. They watched the first one, and four mouths dropped open. A Naiad elite and a criminal had discussed a heinous operation.

“Samuel, you lovely entity,” Simona exulted.

With several major directives fulfilled, the controller moved on to new priorities. The engagements with the four humans had created an element of completeness, if not contentment, within the controller, and there was a calculation that future contacts would only increase the sensation.

28: Conspirators

DELHART, FELDER SYSTEM

CENGAS PLANET

The Axis-ship arrived at Delhart on schedule. The first cargo shuttle dropped to deliver orders of material and supplies to the domes.

Contrary to Lisa Dyehouse’s directive, Gant, the director of ops at Kilmer, took it upon himself to signal an undercover agent in the Delhart domes. He informed that person that the assault had launched from Kilmer. She was to provide whatever support she could, but she wasn’t to expose her position.

Naturally, Kelley intercepted the message from Gant.

Now Violet monitored message transmissions between the Delhart domes and the Axis-ship.

Cremsylon contacted Denise Bell, the board chairperson; Helga Simone, the CEO; and Carlin Isles, the security commander. “You’ve been infiltrated,” he said.

“That part we know,” Helga answered testily.

“An individual has been identified,” Cremsylon returned calmly.

“Tell us who,” Helga demanded. “The commander will immediately arrest them.”

“I think not,” Cremsylon replied. “Based on your attitude, CEO Simone, it’s best you don’t know the identity of this person.”

Before Helga could reply, Denise requested, “Tell us your plan, Cremsylon.”

“The infiltrator is communicating with the assault team on the Axis-ship,” Cremsylon replied. “We hope to learn as much as possible about the details of the team and their plans. You can perform the arrest when the assault is neutralized.”

“You mean if, don’t you?” Helga replied. She was unhappy that the SADEs were in control of the defense. Not that she had the resources to beat back an assault team after they landed. If she denied the shuttles permission to land, she’d effectively cut off delivery of critical material and supplies.

“We prefer to think in positive terms,” Cremsylon replied. “One moment, please.”

As Violet saw the infiltrator, who resided in comtech, address a message to an individual on the Axis-ship, she linked to the SADE community and included Bethany, Escher, and Gat’r.

“The undercover agent is communicating with Trax Scanlon,” Cremsylon shared with the CenGas people. He waited while expletives flew between them. “Your records indicate that Citizen Scanlon was recently your security commander,” he added.

“He was,” Helga replied, “which means he knows everything about Delhart operations.”

“I’ve investigated the infiltrator’s message history,” Violet interjected. “This person has provided details requested by Citizen Scanlon about the harvesters and personnel changes.”

“We’ve been leaking like a poorly sealed hatch,” Denise lamented.

“There’s probably every chance that four of our senior agents are on the assault team,” Carlin said. “They would be Lucy Murtagh, Jorge Samos, Neeter Finalls, and Hymie Shemick.”

“Scanlon has replied,” Cremsylon said. “He doesn’t name the people with him, but he does tell the undercover agent that the assault team numbers nine.”

Escher and Gat’r, who had halted training with Bethany to listen to Cremsylon, tipped their heads in admiration to Bethany. Based on the SADEs’ initial message interdiction, she’d estimated the assault team size at no more than ten.

“Only nine,” Carlin said. “That’s a break.”

“According to the passenger manifests, you expect three new hires,” Cremsylon continued. “They’ll drop planetside aboard a cargo shuttle. Afterward, only one passenger shuttle is scheduled to arrive. It will be the final ship to land, and it will carry the assault team and their gear.”

“Does their gear include weapons?” Carlin inquired.

“Scanlon wasn’t specific, but the circumstances are suspicious,” Cremsylon replied.

“I’ll say they are,” Denise remarked. “For the assault team to have a passenger shuttle exclusively for their use means they’ve a highly placed collaborator aboard the ship.”

“Which means that the weapons will most likely have been ferried by the Axis-ship without the captain’s knowledge,” Helga added.

“That’s our consensus,” Cremsylon said.

“Does this change our plans?” Carlin asked. The thing that he’d feared the most was to be outmatched by an assault team, who might carry sophisticated weapons that would operate in vacuum.

“Negative,” Bethany replied strongly. “We proceed as planned.”

“Do we know when the passenger shuttle drops?” Carlin asked.

Violet reviewed the latest exchange. The infiltrator had just asked that very question. “Curious,” she remarked on the conference link. “The final cargo shuttle drops in the early morning of the second day. The passenger shuttle doesn’t descend until nearly sixteen hours later. It’ll be dark by then.”

“The transports will have retired to their rocky haven as Felder sets,” Helga explained. “The machines will be clustered, giving the assault team the advantage.”

“That’s Scanlon’s knowledge of our operations working for him,” Carlin added regretfully.

“On the contrary,” Bethany announced forcefully. “That’s exactly where we want them ... nicely clustered together.”

Bethany had grown tired of hearing the CenGas people’s laments. She felt their negativity would undermine Escher’s and Gat’r’s confidence. Although, a glance toward her trainees showed her that their resolve was intact.

Early the following morning, with Felder barely lighting the ice, some of Carlin’s security rode the transports responsible for harvester crew changes.

The transport cabs housed a driver and an empty companion seat. This space was pressurized. The back four-fifths of the transport loaded from the rear. Anyone who sat inside this space wore a suit and was going to or coming from a harvester.

When the transports arrived at the rocky depression, the relief crews unloaded. They fanned out to five of the harvesters. A security agent accompanied each group. At the harvester, there was a one-for-one exchange. A new crew member would load though the revolving airlock, and then a weary crew member would exit.

The operation nicely obscured views from above, protecting Bethany’s plan to house local security within a harvester cab to resist boarding, in the event she and her team failed to stop the attackers.

The next morning, Carlin and the remainder of his team accompanied the crew exchanges, and they populated the cabs of the other four harvesters.

In late afternoon of the second day, Bethany, Escher, and Gat’r nervously waited in a bay to board a transport that would appear to arrive at the depression and prepare a harvester for maintenance the following morning.

Escher detected the arrival of Allie and Ceda, and he put on a brave face before he turned toward them.

Allie hugged her brother. She whispered harshly, “You remember what I told you.”

“Right! If I get killed, don’t come back,” Escher retorted.

“Idiot,” Allie responded, lightly swatting Escher’s face. Then she stepped back, patted Gat’r’s arm, and said, “Be safe.”

Ceda fiercely hugged Escher. “Come back to me,” she whispered urgently.

“That’s the plan,” Escher replied, attempting to sound lighthearted.

Gat’r watched the sendoff that Escher received. Before he could react to the absence of his supporters, he heard a familiar voice behind him say, “I like the new look.”

Spinning Hephaestus around, Gat’r laughed joyously. “Lita,” he cried out. Ensuring his suit’s response was attenuated, he hugged Lita.

“The gang wants you to know that we’re proud of you for what you’re doing,” Lita said. “They also want you to be smart and to be safe out there.”

“I’ll do my best,” Gat’r replied.

Lita’s eyes shone. “One day, I want all of Geneva to see who you’ve become, Gat’r.” Then, before the tears fell, she hugged him again, kissed his cheek, and hurried away.

Bethany received a SADE’s cue that darkness was creeping across the ice. “Time to go,” she told Escher and Gat’r.

Mask-helmets were signaled closed. Then environment suits were sealed, and the team boarded their transport.

“We’ve got company,” the driver commed to his passengers, as the transport traveled down the exit ramp to the ice.

<Who?> Bethany sent to the driver’s comm.

“They’re in suits, but they have to be Z and Miranda,” the driver replied. “No other individuals are that big, and they’re carrying humongous bags on their back.”

<I thought the SADEs couldn’t play active roles,> Escher sent to Miranda and Z.

<You’d be correct, young one,> Miranda replied.

Escher smiled. He thoroughly enjoyed conversations with the SADEs. They continually reinforced the lesson that he was to think and reason before speaking.

<What’s in the bags?> Escher asked.

<Spare oxygen tanks for your team,> Z replied.

<Then you intend to act in a support role,> Escher surmised.

<And in other nonparticipant roles,> Z replied.

<Such as?> Gat’r queried.

<For one, we’re your guides across the ice this evening,> Z replied. <The ice is shifting in response to growing tidal forces.>

<Anything else?> Gat’r requested.

<We’ll serve as your medical triage team,> Miranda sent.

<That doesn’t sound inviting,> Gat’r replied.

<The other option is less inviting, young one,> Miranda pointed out.

While the transport followed the signals of the SADEs, who scouted the path forward, Bethany regarded Escher and Gat’r. Their expressions were grim.

<It’s okay to be scared,> Bethany sent. <That’s a natural reaction. Now you must decide what to do with that fear. It can either freeze you or galvanize you. You must choose.>

The transport pulled into the lee of a harvester parked farthest from the landing pad. It was meant to hide the team’s exit.

When it was discovered that there was collaborative support aboard the Axis-ship, and an infiltrator in comtech had communicated with the assault team, the thought was that there could be more spies. If one of them had seen their departure from the dome or observed their arrival at the harvesters, then their element of surprise would be undone.

Escher’s implant identified the location of the SADEs. Hard as he stared through the fading light, which was contrasted by the transport’s harsh beams, he couldn’t make them out.

Then one of them took a step, and the ice appeared to move.

<You’ve the same fabric covering your suits as we do,> Escher sent excitedly.

<We had some extra material and decided it was too good to waste,> Z replied.

<Likely story,> Gat’r commented.

<Be civil to your elders,> Miranda remonstrated, and the shared laughter eased the humans’ tenseness.

<Approach us,> Z directed the team. <You’ll want your suits to adopt the ice while there’s still some light.>

As Bethany, Escher, and Gat’r walked toward the SADEs, they watched as each of their suits faded into the icy background of blues, grays, and dirty whites.

<Now you’re ready,> Miranda pronounced. <Until you send for our help to swap your tanks or retrieve you from the field, we won’t respond or come to your aid. Is that understood?>

When the SADEs received the humans’ assents, Z sent, <We wish you good fortune, young ones.>

Then the SADEs’ links to Bethany, Escher, and Gat’r dropped.

The transport’s lights swung away from the harvester field, as the vehicle reversed course.

Z dropped his bag at Miranda’s feet and bounded to catch the transport and guide it safely to the domes.

The team felt the bedrock shudder under his boots.

<Too bad the moon positions won’t aid us,> Gat’r lamented. <The ice movements will be horrendous tonight. Of course, it won’t be helpful to the attackers either.>

<That’s the way to think, Gat’r,> Bethany sent. <Not about what harms us, but what hurts our adversaries. Anything that does that can aid us.>

A half hour later, Miranda didn’t need to warn the team of the shuttle’s approach. The multiple engine flares were bright fire against the dark of night.

When the shuttle touched down, and the engines extinguished, Bethany sent, <Time to move.>

The trio walked abreast about five meters apart, and they carefully made their way toward the landing pad. Quickly, they found that the last image they’d received from the Alexander to identify the crevasses was no longer relevant. Strong tidal forces were at work, and the ice was heavily tortured. Frequently, the trio had to backtrack to find their way around ice that had recently opened.

<Our plan is falling apart,> Escher sent.

<Admittedly, we’re losing the advantage,> Bethany replied. <Our ambushes would have been more effective if we knew the routes that the assault team would take to the harvesters. More than likely, our own retreats won’t soon be available to us.>

<What if they spread out in pairs or approach us singly?> Gat’r asked.

<We’ve covered this, Gat’r,> Bethany gently remonstrated. <Security agents are rigorously trained in team fundamentals. This assault team will likely traverse the ice in two or three teams, at most.>

<Teams of three would be easier to ambush,> Escher sent.

<Agreed,> Bethany replied. <We’ll have to wait and see.>

A few minutes later, Bethany called a halt. They’d crossed a thin shelf of ice that crossed the gap of a narrow crevice.

Pulling a starlight scope with a laser attachment from a pouch, Bethany eyed the crevice’s depth.

<How does it look?> Escher asking, peering into the gloom.

<Just what we need,> Bethany replied. <Not too deep. Averages seven to eight meters, solid bottom, and fairly narrow.>

<They might get hurt, but the fall shouldn’t kill them,> Escher opined.

This was the essence of the trio’s plan. They wanted to trap the attackers in crevices, force them to surrender, and then have the SADEs rescue them. At least, that was their plan.

<Let’s hope this shelf holds,> Gat’r sent.

Bethany positioned Escher and Gat’r. <Gat’r, you’re first. Take the last person to cross,> she directed. <Push them to the right. Escher, if Gat’r is successful, you take the next hindmost and go left. Whether you’re successful or not, drop down where you are and lie still. Questions?> There were none, and she finished with, <Now lightly cover yourselves, and don’t move until I cue you to attack.>

Bethany crawled to a nearby ice crest. Behind the one-meter rise, she maintained a vigil on the horizon. Shallow ice marked the first one-hundred-and-fifty meters of the distance from the landing pad to the harvester depression. The ice wasn’t subjected to the tidal forces, and the assault team could cross the distance quickly.

The ice shield was thick for the final five-hundred-and-fifty meters. Here the attackers would have to deal with the vagaries of Delhart’s surface by scaling ridges, jumping narrow crevices, and seeking ways around dangerous crevasses.

Soon, Bethany spotted movement on the horizon. Focusing the starlight scope, she studied the assault team.

<We’ve got two teams,> she sent. <The commander is in the lead. That’s probably Trax Scanlon. Teams are pulling sleds.>

<Sleds?> Escher queried.

<Strange,> Bethany commented. <One sled must be heavy. It’s grooving the ice. The other three are skimming across the surface.>

<That heavy sled might collapse the bridge next to us,> Gat’r offered. <How are they walking, and who has the heavy sled?>

Bethany sent a short vid.

Escher and Gat’r watched the attackers walk two by two behind their commander. One of the last individuals in the first team had the loaded sled.

<What’s slung on their shoulders?> Gat’r asked.

<Two different devices,> Bethany reported. She zoomed in to a couple of the oncoming individuals to pick up more details. <One looks like an augmented stunner,> she continued. <If they get access to the cabs, they probably want to stand off a meter or so from the crew. It’s a wise precaution. This assault team is severely undersized.>

<Maybe they don’t intend to gain access to all the harvesters,> Escher suggested.

<Good point,> Bethany replied. <If they take a few, maybe three or four, they can dictate terms to CenGas.>

<Uh-oh. What are these?> Bethany inquired, focusing on the second type of weapon on their shoulders. She slowly scanned the device from top to bottom.

Escher recognized the enlarged tool. Ceda had carried a smaller version. <Bethany, you might be looking at a giant vibro-blade,> he sent.

<Why would they want such a thing?> Gat’r asked.

Bethany searched her mind for the answer, but nothing came to her.

Escher remembered downloading data on the harvester, and he opened the implant folder to peruse the imagery. <I might have an idea,> he sent. <I think the assault team intends to frighten the crew by threatening to cut their viewplates.>

<By the way, their suit helmets have night vision,> Bethany sent. She glanced back and was pleased to see that Escher and Gat’r remained invisible.

After the shuttle touched down, Trax and his team slipped their stunners out of their duffels and confronted the crew. The original plan had been to lock the crew in the arrival bay, but Trax couldn’t afford to have anyone guard them. His team was at the minimum number necessary to accomplish the task.

Instead, Jorge and Lucy pulled three key modules from the cockpit, denying the pilots the ability to comm the ship or domes or launch the craft. Then Hymie changed the hatch code to prevent the crew locking them out.

After that, the assault team, except for Ona who kept watch on the crew, unloaded their gear.

Gaining the arrival bay, the team unpacked their vibro-blades and assembled their sleds at the exit hatch that faced the harvesters’ location. Then they loaded one sled with oxygen tanks and mocked up the other three.

Closing their suits, they accessed the wide, rotating airlock. Out on the ice, they made for the distant harvesters.

“This is easier than I thought,” Hymie sent over the comm system. He was pulling one of the sleds designed to appear loaded with spare canisters, and he felt little resistance.

“This is the easy stretch,” Jorge replied. “Save your energy for what comes after this.”

At the end of the fairly smooth ice, Trax called a halt. They stood on the edge of a crevasse.

“This message is especially meant for four of you ... Brady, Chase, Ona, and Teddy,” Trax said. “You can’t hear it, but you can feel it through your boots. Those vibrations you sense come from shifting ice. The first of us might jump a crevice, but by the time the last of us reaches the opening, it might have grown a meter or more. Take nothing for granted. If you do, it’ll get you killed, and you’ll never see those bonus credits.”

Teddy wanted to make a private and testy remark to Trax, but he’d been told to keep his comm fixed on the team channel.

An hour later, Trax was silently cursing their misfortune. Despite the many things he’d carefully planned, one that he hadn’t taken into account was the semiannual alignment of Delhart’s moons.

When the moons aligned, tidal forces were at their peak. As the planet rotated beneath the increased gravitational pull, the ice shifted like Earth’s ancient tides.

Jorge led team one, walking just behind Trax. His three team members, Lucy, Brady, and Neeter pulled the heavy sled. While the ice provided a slick surface for the runners, the irregular surface continually fought the team’s progress.

“I’m done,” Brady announced, which was the cue for Neeter to take up the sled.

“We’ve rotated the sled three times, Trax,” Jorge said. “Every ridge requires the four of us to hump it over. My first bottle is at five percent.”

“We need to make efficient use of the oxygen tanks,” Trax replied. “When your suit switches to the second tank, we’ll swap out the first one.”

Trax took to scouting the way ahead. Then he’d signal Jorge’s team to follow. Not long after their conversation about the oxygen tanks, the foursome wrestled the sled over a craggy wide ridge.

“If that doesn’t suck vacuum,” Trax mumbled.

“What?” inquired Jorge when his team reached Trax.

“Those vibrations you felt moments ago came from this crevice,” Trax replied, pointing down.

Jorge peered into the wide and deep crevasse. “It’s not a crevice anymore,” he said, “and I’m on my second bottle.”

“Chase, what’s the status of your teams’ tanks?” Trax asked.

“The first bottle isn’t quite half empty,” Chase reported, after taking inventory.

“Okay, team one change bottles,” Trax ordered. “When you’re finished, swap sleds with team two. We have to retreat and reroute. I want to keep the same marching order.”

Bethany occasionally lost sight of the assault team as the members wound their way toward the target. Usually, she caught glimpses of them when they hauled their sleds over ridges. When she’d first seen them wrestle the heavy sled over a difficult ridge, she’d laughed.

<What’s so funny?> Gat’r had asked.

<Every operation has its glitches,> Bethany had replied.

<And I was yours,> Escher sent.

<Not smart to remind me, Escher. You still need my help out here,> Bethany had retorted.

When Escher failed to reply, Bethany and Gat’r had chuckled.

Having seen the attackers change tanks, Bethany requested her team report their tanks’ conditions. She was shocked at how much capacity remained for each of them.

<Sometimes, I forget about the amount of alien technology we’re using,> Bethany sent.

<Implants, reconstructive surgery, controllers, programmable combat suits, and now ultraefficient environment suits,> Gat’r enumerated, taking pleasure in listing the tech that he enjoyed.

Trax stood on a ridge and checked the teams’ progress. It had taken them nearly two-and-a-half hours to reach the midpoint, and the rest of the route to the harvesters didn’t look much easier. He decided that saving oxygen was going to be the priority.

Two of the faked sleds were abandoned. The oxygen bottles were split into two groups, and each team received half.

Bethany had watched the assault team continually move away from her position, and she willed them to turn in her direction. As if she’d been heard, Trax was forced to backtrack again and again, and the attackers headed her way.

<Escher, Gat’r, if you’re asleep, wake up,> Bethany sent. <Focus your thoughts. We’re about to make contact in ten to fifteen minutes.>

29: Dangerous Contact

Bethany stowed her nightscope. Then she slithered lower behind the ridge and into the shallow trough she gouged. Finally, she covered herself with loose ice.

The contrast between this encounter and every other one that Bethany had performed was striking. None of her operations had taken place outside a dome. Out here, most of her mods wouldn’t have been effective. In Delhart’s airless environment, she wouldn’t even hear the approach of her adversaries. What would prove to be extremely useful against the oncoming forces would be the SADEs’ technology.

Through the small portion of Bethany’s helmet that she left uncovered, a single eye watched Trax’s boots strike the ice two meters from her hiding place. The first team, pulling and pushing their half-loaded sled, crested her ice ridge.

True to her comment about glitches, one of the attackers kicked loose ice toward her and covered her helmet.

<We went dark,> Escher complained.

<Ice was kicked over me,> Bethany replied. <I can’t cue you when to attack. Remain still.>

<Glitches,> Gat’r chuckled. His nervousness showed in his thought’s elevated pitch.

Escher had a narrow view of the ice bridge, and he sent images to his companions.

Trax eyed the narrow expanse of ice. He bent down and stared at the bridge’s thickness. Then exhaling harshly, he walked across in a manner that was intended to exude confidence.

“It’s strong,” Trax sent.

As team leader, Jorge crossed next. Then Lucy and Brady followed.

Neeter, who pulled the sled, came last. He elongated the tether to the sled. Then he crossed most of the ice bridge before the tether came up short. Slowly, he took the final steps on the ice shelf, as the sled slid across the bridge behind him.

With barely a meter to go, the ice bridge gave way beneath the sled. Neeter yelped, dropped prone, and held on to the precious oxygen supply.

The sled’s weight was greater than Neeter, who was dragged toward the crevice. Lucy and Brady leapt to help and clung to the tether, stopping the sled’s descent.

Trax and Jorge were able to add the mass necessary to haul the sled to safety.

“Good thing we kept the bottles strapped down,” Jorge commented.

“Something has to go right for us,” Trax remarked.

“Now what?” Chase demanded harshly. He stood on the other side of the crevice with team two and the other sled.

Trax surveyed the chasm opening. “Too far to jump, Chase,” he pronounced, “and you can’t afford to leave your sled behind.” Making a decision, he said, “Team one and I will push on. Team two will have to find another way around.”

<Don’t move,> Bethany reiterated to her companions. <We’ll give the teams time to separate. Then we’ll make a new plan.>

Team two shoved their sled back over the ridge, and team one, with Trax, trudged on.

When Bethany felt it was safe, she raised her head and gently shook the ice from her helmet. Then she peeked around. <Looks clear,> she sent, <but stay low.>

The threesome crawled to the edge of the crevice cliff and judged the opening.

<We need to go after Trax and his team,> Bethany pronounced. <The other half will be delayed. We’ve got time to neutralize them later.>

<I know we’re carrying added weight, but I think our suits will get us across,> Gat’r sent.

<I’ve an idea,> Escher responded. He crouched at the edge of the ice cliff, examined the space between his boots, and set a point in his implant. Then he marked a second point on the other side of the cliff. Finally, he backed up to the ridge and loaded a third point.

Swiftly, Escher built a small program to direct Odysseus and loaded it into the suit’s app.

<Stand to the side,> Escher sent, waving his arms.

Before Bethany could object, Escher triggered the program, and Odysseus launched Escher at the crevice. With several huge bounds, Odysseus hit the first mark and landed on the second point on the far side of the crevice.

<Remember who leads this team, Escher,> Bethany remonstrated harshly. <You volunteer the ideas, and I approve who does what.>

While Bethany was focused on Escher, Gat’r and she received Escher’s app.

Gat’r installed the program, gained the ridge where Escher had stood, and launched Hephaestus. The same results were achieved.

“It’s a mutiny,” Bethany mumbled quietly to herself. Then she imitated Escher and Gat’r to gain the other side of the crevice.

The trio felt harsh rumblings through their boots. When it stopped, they glanced back at the crevice. The opening had more than doubled, and they had no doubt that the bottom had dropped out. The crevice had become a wide crevasse.

Bethany pulled her nightscope and scanned for Trax and his associates. She spotted heads bobbing on the far side of an ice ridge about fifty meters ahead.

<Let’s go,> Bethany sent, and Athena carried her in great strides across the ice.

Then Escher and Gat’r spurred Odysseus and Hephaestus.

Almost too quickly, the trio caught the invaders.

Bethany dropped prone against an ice ridge, and Escher and Gat’r copied her.

The trio’s adversaries had stopped to change out bottles.

<We could swipe their sled,> Gat’r volunteered. <With our suits, we could haul it faster than they could follow. Then we could drop it in the crevasse that just opened.>

<Then we’d be caught against that wide opening,> Escher replied. <I don’t think the suits can jump that distance with the weights of our external suits.>

<Your plan is missing one small detail, Gat’r,> Bethany sent. <Take a look at the far end of the sled’s tether.>

Gat’r focused on the long strap. It ended in a tight loop that the attacker wore around the wrist. <Oops,> he sent.

<Details are always critical,> Bethany pronounced. <I think we’ll follow them. When they reach a crevice that they can’t cross, we’ll attack them there.>

<Not one at a time,> Escher objected.

<No,> Bethany replied. <We’re going to have specific targets, and it’ll be a coordinated rush. I’ll take Trax.>

<We should target the two individuals carrying the vibro-blades,> Escher suggested.

<Exactly my idea,> Bethany replied. <We can’t afford to let them get those weapons off their shoulders and activated.>

<I notice that whoever pulls the sled hands off their weapons to the others,> Escher sent.

<That’ll make it a little more difficult for them to respond to our attack,> Bethany sent approvingly.

<What’s our best and safest approach to our targets?> Gat’r asked.

<Double boots in the chest,> Bethany replied. <Launch them over the shelf’s edge.>

<We won’t know how deep the drop,> Gat’r sent with concern.

<It can’t be helped, Gat’r,> Bethany replied sympathetically. <The harvesters are not more than a hundred meters away. We can’t let this team reach the rock.>

<The material in our external suits won’t provide adequate coverage on the bedrock and near the harvesters, Gat’r, which means we’ll lose our advantage,> Escher sent. <When we stand out, those vibro-blades and stun rifles are going to be activated. Then I think they’re going to get the best of us.>

<Are you all right, Gat’r?> Bethany inquired.

There were a few moments of silence. Then Gat’r replied, <Yes, and I appreciate the reasoning.>

The strong tidal forces had stirred the ice. It belched out of crevasses as they opened and closed, and increasingly, it fell across the surface like a thick veil of snow.

Bethany preferred the obscured vision. It was another advantage for her team.

The trio of defenders waited at another low ridge and watched the assault team. The attackers had halted at an opening, and she saw Trax looking left and right.

<Ready,> Bethany sent. <Three, two, one, go.>

Three ghostly forms threw themselves over the ridge and rushed across the ice for their targets.

Jorge, who’d turned to disentangle himself from the tether and hand off the sled, spotted three anomalies moving swiftly and disturbing the falling ice. “Incoming behind us,” he yelled.

The mêlée that ensued pitted SADE tech against human mods.

Gat’r raced for his target. The figure carried one of the deadly vibro-blades. His path took him close to the attacker who had extricated his hand from the sled’s tether.

Jorge had the presence of mind to drop and sweep a leg at the phantom streaking toward him.

Hephaestus was programmed to avoid obstacles, and the suit executed a flip to avoid the leg that swung toward it.

Lucy couldn’t get the vibro-blade off her shoulder in time to avert the attack coming her way. Instead, she dropped to the ice. The somersaulting figure flew over her head and pitched into the deep crevice that had halted her team. She chuckled darkly at the person’s fate.

Escher registered Gat’r’s failed attack, and his mind screamed in anger as he saw Gat’r fall into the crevice. Nonetheless, he focused on his adversary. He’d been assigned a vibro-blade wielder too. There was no one to impede his attack, and, with a vengeance, he planted both feet squarely into his target’s chest before the deadly weapon could be freed.

Too late, Neeter saw the shape emerge from the falling ice. Then boots struck him solidly in the chest, and he was launched backward. As he fell into the chasm, a scream tore from his lips.

Trax was the most experienced member of the assault team. When he saw a shimmering shape target him, he slipped his stun rifle off his shoulder in a smooth practiced motion. There wasn’t time to activate it. Instead, he intended it to blunt the attack.

Bethany shifted Athena from a frontal attack to a slide across the ice that aimed a boot at Trax’s knee. However, Trax’s mods enabled him to leap to the side before the kick could land.

“Form a square,” Trax yelled over the comm.

Escher targeted the other vibro-blade wielder, but the weapon’s telltale glowed, indicating the blade was active. Worse, it was being swung in an ever-shifting arc to protect the wielder.

Suddenly, Bethany and Escher faced four adversaries who stood back-to-back in a tight square, with the weapons circling in front of them.

Bethany stepped slowly to the side, and one of the weapons followed her. <Escher, surprise is gone,> she sent. <They can see aspects of us when we move.>

<Is this a stalemate?> Escher asked, stepping sidewise and looking for an opening.

<Possibly,> Bethany replied. She eyed the foursome. <They’re working out the possibilities too. Escher, we’re going to move toward each other, as if seeking to attack together. We’ll meet between the attackers and their sled. Then we’re going to grab their sled and run.>

<Let me cross behind you,> Escher sent. <I’ll grab the tether, while you block me from their view.>

<Good idea. Start moving,> Bethany sent.

“I think there are only two of them,” Jorge said.

“Agreed,” Lucy added.

“Watch it,” Brady warned. “They’re aligning. Expect a fake before the attack.”

“Keep your weapons up,” Trax directed.

Escher waited until Bethany crossed in front of him. Then he snatched up the sled’s tether. <Now,> he sent urgently, as he signaled Odysseus.

Bethany whirled. Escher had already spun the sled and was headed for the most recent ridge that the attackers had crossed. She signaled Athena, who bent, placed hands on the pile of tanks, and drove the sled forward.

Trax and his remaining team members were of two thoughts, as they watched the ghostly pair race away with their stockpile of oxygen. There was relief. Their adversaries had momentarily retreated. Then there was chagrin. They had no more spare bottles.

When Escher approached the ridge, he didn’t slow to work the sled over the hump of ice. Instead, he signaled Odysseus, and the suit flew above the surface, taking the sled with it.

Bethany felt the sled leave her hands. Briefly, she was astounded by the sled seemingly flying over the ridge by itself. Then she leapt after Escher.

<Stop, Escher,> Bethany directed. <Help me.>

When Escher saw Bethany rip the tarp from the sled and release the oxygen bottles, he did the same. Then the two of them buried the bottles in the ridge’s crumbled ice.

<Get rid of the sled and tarp,> Bethany ordered. <Then catch up with me.>

Bethany headed toward Trax and his team. Escher chose a direction that was ninety degrees from which he’d been running. At the first possible opportunity, he stopped, placed the sled against an outcrop of ice, and covered it. Then he raced after Bethany.

The implants were within signaling distance, and Escher tracked Bethany’s motions.

<Do you have them in sight?> Escher sent.

<Yes,> Bethany replied. <Trax and one team member are walking forward, and the other two are playing rear guard. They’re no more than sixty meters from the harvesters’ barren rock.>

Escher’s implant signaled that Bethany was ten meters ahead. His anger at Gat’r’s loss drove him to do something he didn’t think possible. He co-opted Bethany’s visual input. The thought that he hadn’t asked permission only briefly occurred to him, but he dismissed it.

Circling to the left, Escher sought the dim shapes of their adversaries. When he found them, he sent, <I’m attacking.>

Bethany swore and then closed the distance to the rearward-facing pair to attract their attention. It worked. They recognized her shape and held out their weapons toward her, which meant they never saw Escher.

In the final meters before Escher made contact, the images of the attackers and their weapons resolved out of the raining curtain of ice. The closest adversary handled a stun rifle. It was the farther individual who held out the vibro-blade.

Escher slid into the pair on one foot and kicked out with the other. His boot landed on the stun rifle, and the weapon swung to the left. The rifle’s tip touched the blade, and its power dumped into the blade’s circuitry.

Lucy tried to protect her blade from Brady’s weapon, but it was too late. The rifle’s charge exploded her blade’s power pack, and she dropped the weapon. Fear gripped her, and she hastily checked suit integrity.

Brady’s weapon was ruined by contacting the blade. Rather than drop it, he swung it against his attacker and was shocked to see a phantom-like hand grip it and tear it from his grasp.

Lucy’s attention, having been diverted to check her suit, failed to block her attacker.

Bethany’s boot smashed into Lucy’s helmet.

Lucy’s viewplate held, but her helmet’s seal opened. She panicked, as the telltale lit, warning of a leak. Unbelievable cold invaded her suit, and she swiftly lost consciousness.

Escher held the stun rifle like a club, and he threatened the figure in front of him, whose hands were raised in surrender.

Brady’s warning cry had alerted Trax and Jorge, who whirled and scanned for other attackers. By the time they registered that the attack had focused on their rear team members, it was over.

Lucy was on the ice. Cold crystallized the vapor of her last exhale on the viewplate’s interior. Brady was kneeling on the ice, and his hands were raised toward the rifle that hovered above him.

Trax watched a figure advance toward him out of the gloom. A hand faced palm down signaled for them to surrender.

“Trax, I’m down to my last bottle, and there’s only thirteen percent left,” Jorge reported.

“I’m not doing much better,” Trax replied.

“Even if we take these two, we don’t have enough oxygen to threaten the harvester crews,” Jorge continued.

“And our team’s vibro-blades are in a crevasse or ruined,” Trax finished. Then he laid down his stun rifle, and Jorge did the same.

<Z, Miranda, we’re in need of support,> Bethany sent. <One aggressor team and the leader are finished. The members are either dead or have surrendered.>

Miranda materialized out of the gloom beside Bethany. <Well done, young one,> she sent. <We favored you.>

Bethany was unsure whether the comment meant that the SADEs thought she would be successful or that they just hoped she’d survive the encounter.

Trax, Jorge, and Brady stared in awe at the giant entity who appeared from the gloom. Their thoughts were similar. It had been a fool’s errand to try to take Delhart. The SADEs’ tech gave their adversaries too much advantage.

Brady shuddered in relief, as the enormous figure passed him by. Jorge felt the same, when the figure snatched Trax and bounded away.

Miranda deposited Trax on the nearby barren surface that protected the harvesters. Connecting to Trax’s comm system, she ordered, <Sit, and stay here or suffer the consequences.>

Trax had no desire to learn what the consequences might be. He immediately sat on the bedrock that was lightly covered by the falling ice.

Miranda returned and repeated her actions with Jorge and Brady. Then she recovered Lucy’s body and laid it beside the three men. She silently regarded the leader and the remainder of his team, and they warily eyed her, expecting the worst.

<I imagine the credits offered you were inviting,> Miranda sent to them. <How enticing do those credits appear now?>

<What about the rest of my team?> Trax had the courage to ask.

<Unknown,> Miranda replied. <Conditions make it difficult to locate your second team or the individual knocked into the crevice.>

<Will you try to rescue them?> Jorge asked.

<We always try to save sentient life everywhere we journey,> Miranda replied. <It’s the barbaric habits of biologicals against their own kind and other races that impede our progress.>

<I’ve located Gat’r,> Z sent. Then he signaled for an emergency drop of a traveler to land at the harvesters’ location.

<Z, why an emergency?> Escher sent hopefully. Bethany and he were headed for the crevice where Gat’r and one of the attackers had plummeted.

<Gat’r isn’t at the bottom of the opening, which is extremely deep,> Z sent. <Hephaestus wedged hands and feet against the crevice’s sides. Gat’r hangs there.>

<But Gat’r’s implant is offline,> Bethany pointed out.

<Acknowledged,> Z replied. <I suspect Gat’r is unconscious. We must rescue him before the ice moves.>

Trax, Jorge, and Brady watched a ship silently appear out of the haze and land beside them. To the men, it was an eerie sight. A hatch mysteriously appeared from the rear, and figures in environment suits poured out. Most raced toward the thick ice, carrying gear with them. Three figures approached them.

“We’re dealing with the SADEs,” Trax said to his companions. He heard Jorge’s derisive snort, and he realized that he’d stated the obvious.

<We offer you a choice,> Emory sent to the seated men. <You can sit here until your air runs out, or you can accept our hospitality. In return, you will answer all questions put to you.>

“If we answer your questions, we’ll need protection,” Trax replied.

<That will be up to the Naiad authorities to provide,> Emory sent.

<You should know that circumstances on Naiad are changing dramatically,> Violet added. <Three chairpersons have fled to their mining planets. The fourth is embroiled in legal fights, and a councilor, who aided the companies, has been arrested and charged.>

“That doesn’t truncate the corporations’ power,” Jorge objected.

<No, it doesn’t,> Violet agreed. <But it does offer you a greater degree of protection from their revenge.>

“I’ll talk,” Brady said. He’d checked his oxygen and saw he had less than twenty minutes left.

Jorge thought the same. He had no intention of dying on Delhart’s frozen surface. His single hope was that the camouflaged figure, who had pitched into the crevice, was still alive. Otherwise, the charges against them would be premeditated murder. “I’ll cooperate too,” he said.

The SADEs stared at Trax, waiting for his answer.

<Take these two,> Kelley sent to Emory and Violet. <I’ll wait here with Trax. He has until his air runs out or Gat’r is recovered and we lift.>

Trax watched the SADEs from the ship lead his companions away. One SADE remained behind and sat cross-legged in front of him.

“What are you doing?” Trax asked.

<Waiting,> Kelley replied

<Waiting for what?> Trax pressed. It both irritated and frightened him that the SADE didn’t reply.

Bethany and Escher arrived at the crevice to find Z lying on the ice shelf and peering over the edge.

<Do not approach my left side,> Z warned. <Furthermore, lay flat to observe Gat’r below.>

Crawling to the precipice, Bethany and Escher were surprised to see Gat’r suspended a mere three meters below them.

Gat’r had fortunately dropped into a section where ice protruded from both sides of the crevice, and he had the presence of mind to jam Hephaestus into the projections.

<If Gat’r saved himself via his suit, why is he unconscious?> Escher questioned.

<Without extended sight, you won’t see the body and weapons that are scattered beneath Gat’r,> Z replied. <I surmise that an attacker fell on Gat’r. It was fortunate that Hephaestus held, but Gat’r might have sustained traumatic head or neck injury.>

The sound of Escher choking reached Bethany and the SADEs.

<Are you in medical distress, Escher?> Z swiftly inquired.

<Escher was the one who knocked the attacker over the precipice,> Bethany explained.

<An unfortunate coincidence, Escher,> Z sent solicitously. <Take no blame for what transpired afterward.>

SADEs arrived, and tripods were set on either side of the opening.

Then Nalia was carefully lowered to Gat’r’s side on a line. She linked directly to Hephaestus and confirmed that the suit held Gat’r’s head rigid. Then she looped a second line under his armpits.

On cue, Z took up the slack on Gat’r’s line, and he confirmed to Nalia that he was ready. Then she signaled Hephaestus to relax the arms and legs.

There was the merest jostling of Gat’r, as Z balanced the added weight on the line.

Immediately, the SADEs quickly recovered Nalia and Gat’r.

Gat’r was placed on a stretcher and entrusted to the hands of Z and Miranda. The pair linked, grasped each end of the stretcher, and bounded in unison toward the waiting traveler. They took care to land softly, absorbing the impact with their legs.

When the SADEs boarded the traveler with Gat’r, Jorge asked, “Will your companion live?”

<Unknown,> Violet replied. <His injury might be superficial or severe. We hope for the best. This human is precious to us.>

The thought that someone who the SADEs considered valuable had been injured in the fighting ratcheted the anxiety that Jorge and Brady felt.

30: Recovery and Interrogation

When the emergency flight traveler landed in the Alexander’s bay, the corridor was crowded with anxious individuals.

<Young ones,> Miranda sent, when she located the mickies and the two adult Genevans waiting, <you’ll need to be patient. There are injuries that need attending. Some are physical. Some are emotional.>

The Genevans flattened against the corridor bulkheads to make room for Z and Miranda who hurried past with a comatose Gat’r. Then the mickies slowly followed, while consoling one another.

Allie and Ceda waited expectantly for Escher and Bethany to exit the bay.

When the suited pair walked out, there was no sense of jubilation, no celebration of their success. Instead, they walked woodenly side by side, two soldiers returning from battle.

Allie’s hand rose to touch Escher as he passed, but Ceda gently gripped her forearm.

<What happened?> Ceda asked, after linking with Miranda and Allie.

<Humans died,> Miranda answered tersely.

Allie and Ceda continued to wait. They tracked Escher to his cabin.

Not long afterward, Escher left the cabin, met Bethany, and the pair headed for a green space.

Allie and Ceda followed at a respectful distance. When they exited a lift, they saw Bethany and Escher sitting on a bench. She had a hand on his shoulder and was speaking earnestly to him.

<It’s a difficult thing,> Kelley sent to Allie and Ceda, silently arriving beside them.

<We couldn’t connect with anyone on the surface,> Allie complained. <We were left in the dark.>

<It was necessary,> Kelley replied. <Your concern for your friends is understandable. Their efforts required total concentration. It was critical that they focused on the tasks at hand.>

<Did that include the SADEs?> Ceda asked.

<Yes,> Kelley replied. There was wistfulness in his thought.

<There wasn’t consensus, was there?> Ceda inquired.

<No, but it was the majority opinion to stay removed from the conflict as best as possible,> Kelley replied.

<Z and Miranda seemed to know what happened,> Allie pointed out. <Miranda said people died.>

<Our protectors occupy a unique niche within the SADE community,> Kelley explained. <While they respected the general thought, they made minor exceptions. If our defenders called for medical assistance, they would act as the rescue team. If tanks ran dry, they would supply extras.>

<Nothing more?> Allie pursued.

<Nothing more,> Kelley affirmed.

<Who died and how?> Ceda asked.

<The attackers divided into two teams,> Kelley replied. <The ice did its part and separated them by the dropping of a crevice bridge behind the first team. At the present time, we don’t know the location of the second team.>

<Do you mean they’re wandering around on the surface?> Allie asked. She visibly shuddered at the thought.

<The ice fall is too thick to locate them. We’re trying, but even our tech has limitations,> Kelley sent. He appeared entirely unhappy with the circumstances.

Ceda’s direct stare reminded Kelley of her question.

<Our defenders attacked team one,> Kelley continued. <The assault team wore mods. That enabled an adequate defense against our suits. Gat’r focused on an adversary. In the rush, he was forced to evade a strike, and his somersault carried him into the crevice. Fortunately, he had the presence of mind to direct Hephaestus to brace against the ice walls, which stopped his descent.>

<Then why has he been taken to medical?> Allie asked.

<Escher’s attack was successful, and he sent his adversary over the precipice,> Kelley explained. <That individual landed on top of Gat’r. Hephaestus held, but Gat’r’s neck vertebrae suffered damage.>

<And the person who Escher sent over the edge?> Ceda asked anxiously.

<Was killed,> Kelley supplied. <We imagine it was the first time that Escher took a life.>

<Yes, it would be,> Ceda sent. She gazed across the green at her love. Pain knifed deep in her heart for the suffering Escher was experiencing.

<Miranda said humans were killed. That’s multiple people,> Allie reminded Kelley.

<Bethany struck an attacker in the viewplate. It opened her helmet seal. She died quickly from the cold,> Kelley replied. <We’ve no way of knowing if this was Bethany’s first killing.>

Allie knew the unfathomable pain that the pair felt. In her nightmares, she still saw the X-Ore agent’s surprised face. He died after the hot beam of her cutting torch cut through his armor and into his chest.

Ceda touched Allie’s arm. “We should leave them alone,” she said.

Allie was reluctant, but Ceda’s earnest expression convinced her to go.

On the bench, Bethany had started the conversation with, “Escher, I spent nearly thirteen years in security services for Naiad and undercover in the employ of two corporations. Never once was I forced to do serious harm to any citizen. Despite the differences in our age and experience, we find ourselves in similar circumstances. I do know that it’s best to talk about these things. If you don’t, they’ll eat at you.”

Escher was bent forward with his forearms on his knees and his fingers tightly interlaced. “It was nothing like I thought it would be. Most of it was waiting. I can remember thinking I was bored. Then, suddenly, I wasn’t, and Gat’r was disappearing into that dark yawning abyss.”

“You were angry,” Bethany said.

“Like I’ve never been before,” Escher admitted. “It was white hot rage, and I wanted to hurt someone.”

Escher sat still, conflicting emotions swirling through his mind. Then he said, “I planted Odysseus’s boots as hard as I could into the figure in front of me. I wanted to send them to the deepest part of the crevice ... and I did.”

“When people choose to use weapons to hurt others or take what they want, they leave us no choice,” Bethany said patiently. “What do you think the assault team intended to do with their vibro-blades if they reached the harvesters?”

“We discussed this,” Escher replied, sitting up quickly. Anger flushed his cheeks. “I know the crews were in danger. I know we were out there to defend them. I just didn’t know that taking a life would feel this way.”

“Feel what way?” Bethany encouraged.

“Like ... like I’m a lesser person,” Escher said shakily. He fought to keep his emotions under control. “It’s like ... I don’t know ...”

“Like they dragged us down with them,” Bethany suggested.

Escher regarded the older woman with an expression of surprised realization. She’d exactly phrased the sentiment he was trying to express. “Why did they have to do that?” he asked plaintively.

“Credits, I imagine,” Bethany replied simply. She leaned into the bench. Escher was talking. That had been her purpose in sitting in the quiet of the green space. Now she wondered if she would share. It seemed wrong to burden Escher, a young man ten years her junior. As if sensing her turmoil, she heard Escher ask, “How do you intend to handle it?”

“Haven’t the faintest idea,” Bethany replied. Her laughter was weak and shaky.

“How is it that deadly fights result in damage to bodies and minds too?” Escher asked.

“Better question to ask is why do people opt for aggression instead of working with those who are seen in conflict with them?” Bethany responded.

“I don’t even blame Trax and his associates,” Escher said. “Yes, they accepted the credits and chose to wrest control of this planet’s resources, but it’s the people who hired them that makes me angry.”

“And that should be our focus, Escher,” Bethany said, tapping his forearm to accentuate the point. “The people who pull the strings of others to get them to commit criminal acts are the ones who need to pay. Maybe we should give them our attention.”

“I like that,” Escher said, sitting upright. “Come to think of it, that’s probably what the SADEs would advise.” His eyes narrowed, and he regarded Bethany. “Were you linked with a SADE?” he asked.

Bethany laughed. This one was hearty and genuine. “You should give us more credit, Escher. We thought our way out of this dark hole by ourselves.”

∞

In the medical suite, Nalia directed the careful removal of Gat’r’s environment suit, and Z and Miranda assisted. Then Nalia scanned Gat’r. <Neck compression damaged several vertebrae,> she pronounced.

<Hephaestus requires recharge within the next several minutes,> Miranda sent.

<A slight error in our design,> Z lamented. <Without an external port, Hephaestus must be directed to remove itself from Gat’r.>

On Miranda’s request, eight SADEs flooded into medical.

Bracing every aspect of Gat’r’s body, with Nalia steadying the young man’s head, Z signaled Hephaestus. The suit dutifully obeyed. With the last of its energy, it peeled open and slipped off Gat’r.

Two SADEs caught Hephaestus, as the suit toppled over, and they whisked it from medical.

Violet supplied the brace Nalia requested and applied it to Gat’r’s neck.

Nalia repeated the scans. <Medical nanites are contraindicated,> she sent. <Bone will be repaired in place. Their present positions won’t offer the neck flexibility.>

<Gat’r will require Jatouche technology,> Miranda surmised.

Immediately, the SADEs extracted Gat’r from the unitard he’d worn under the suit and eased his body into the Jatouche tank that Nalia had prepared for just such an eventuality.

Except for Nalia, the SADEs exited medical. As their sensors had detected, they encountered the entire gang pacing and fretting in the corridor.

“How is Gat’r?” Lita asked fearfully and ignoring her implant comm.

“He has cervical vertebrae damage, but Nalia is caring for him,” Miranda replied. “He’ll require a Jatouche medical treatment again.”

“But he’ll be okay, right?” Jasper persisted.

“Young ones, be at ease,” Miranda soothed. “We reached Gat’r in time. He’s in Nalia’s hands, and his recovery is ensured.”

Anxiety flooded out of the mickies, leaving them tearfully grateful. The SADEs received rounds of hugs, and then the gang departed.

<I fear for this tight-knit band when they lose the first of their members,> Z sent to his partner.

<It will either make them stronger or tear them apart,> Miranda replied. <Whatever happens, I hope we’re able to help. Their struggle to survive makes them worthy of better lives.>

While Nalia worked on Gat’r, Trax and his associates sat facing Denise Bell, Eaton Saby, Helga Simone, and Carlin Isles.

The three assault members were without their mods and had been given robes and slippers to wear. Three security agents stood guard behind them.

Trax glared at Carlin, while waiting for the proceedings to start. He was irritated that Carlin ignored him.

“This proceeding will be recorded,” Denise announced, “and we’ll deliver it in its entirety to Naiad prosecutors.”

“None of us will speak until we’ve had an accounting of our team members,” Trax declared.

Cremsylon, who’d stood to the side, approached the three men. “We’ve information on your six absent team members,” he said. “I request their names.”

“Lucy Murtagh, Neeter Finalls, Chase Farrow, Ona Limberton, Teddy Duessy, Hymie Shemick,” Trax reeled off. “The last four comprised my second team.”

An image sprang from Cremsylon’s hand. “I take it this woman is Lucy Murtagh,” the SADE said.

Trax stared at the blue-black face, but Jorge and Brady averted their eyes.

“Yes,” Trax replied desultorily.

“Then that makes Neeter Finalls the individual who was knocked into the crevice,” Cremsylon said. “After the rescue of our associate, SADEs attempted to recover the body. It was deep in the crevice, and the ice closed on it before recovery was possible. If you wish, we’ll endeavor to drill down to the body when the tidal forces subside. Although I must warn you that the pressures will have severely crushed the body.”

“Leave him where he lies,” Trax said. “He has no family to mourn him but us.”

“As to the location of the second team, it’s unknown,” Cremsylon continued. “They did not make the harvesters. The raining ice is too thick for our ship’s sensors to penetrate. We’ve calculated the remaining time available to your team with their portion of the oxygen tanks. It’s estimated that they would have emptied their tanks several hours after you were captured.”

As the extent of the team’s loss hit Trax, he shook his head. Initially, he’d thought the operation had a good chance of succeeding. Now he wondered if it wasn’t the lure of credits that made him blind to the risks. When he glanced left and right at Jorge and Brady, his men wouldn’t meet his eyes.

“When the tidal forces lessen, will you look for them?” Trax asked.

“Assuredly,” Cremsylon replied. “We’ll need to know how to care for their remains. We’re unfamiliar with your customs.”

“Has Cremsylon satisfied your inquiry about your team?” Denise asked.

“For the time being,” Trax replied. He attempted to sound defiant, but everyone in the room knew it was hollow.

“Who hired you?” Denise asked.

“Who didn’t?” Trax replied.

“Explain that to us,” Helga quickly demanded.

Trax sighed. He hated stepping into uncertain territory, but he had no choice. “Half my team and I received the offer while we were on Transit One,” he said. “Afterward, we were ordered to sail for Kilmer.”

“Why?” Carlin asked.

“I’m fairly sure it was because there was no decent security at Transit One,” Trax explained.

“Who requested the change of planets?” Helga asked.

Trax screwed up his face at what he thought was a ridiculous question.

“Citizen Scanlon,” Denise said harshly. “You might consider the questions elementary. The fact of the matter is that we know the answers to some of these queries, and we wish to compare your answers to our information. We expect your answers to be complete and truthful. Anything less will find you shipped back to Kilmer. That corporation’s superiors can deal with you.”

Trax’s anger was demonstrable, but Jorge and Brady paled at the threat.

“My handler was Chairperson Lisa Dyehouse,” Trax sullenly admitted.

“Was she in charge of you and your team from the beginning?” Carlin inquired.

“Doubtful,” Trax replied. “We were hired by Transit One. It wasn’t until after we arrived there that we heard the real reason we were offered the transfers.”

“Does that indicate to you that more than one company has participated in this assault?” Helga asked pointedly.

“Why these questions?” Trax asked. “I thought it obvious why an assault team landed on your planet. You haven’t been fulfilling your contracts on time. Information is that the deliveries are short, and that’s hurting business. The chairpersons had enough of your excuses, and they decided to do something about it.”

After the outburst, Trax deflated. Suddenly, he heard a familiar voice. It was that of Lisa Dyehouse. He looked up to see swirling colors emitting from Cremsylon’s hand. An audio file was playing. Lisa was talking to other individuals. They were discussing the taking of Delhart from CenGas.

When the audio file ended, Denise said, “Thank you for your confirmation of this recording.”

“Why did you need me to affirm what you already knew?” Trax asked in exasperation.

“There are those on Naiad who don’t accept evidence from SADEs,” Cremsylon said. “In this manner, we’re able to introduce corroborating testimony from the assault leader.”

“I assume that this means you’ll be sending us to Naiad,” Trax said. He meant it to sound assumptive, but there was a hint of distrust in his voice.

“May I ask something?” Brady asked.

“Certainly,” Denise replied.

“If possible, could we stay here until the Alexander sails to Naiad?” Brady asked. “I’d rather not take a berth on an Axis-ship.”

Denise regarded Cremsylon, who said, “I’ve no objections, Chairperson Bell, if you can accommodate your portion of the request.”

“Commander,” Denise said, addressing Carlin, “please provide appropriate accommodations for these three until Cremsylon collects them.”

“It would be my pleasure,” Carlin replied with a nasty smile.

Cremsylon eyed Denise, who quickly added, “Commander, they’re to be treated fairly. You don’t want to annoy our guests.” To indicate what she meant, a single finger had pointed toward Cremsylon.

Carlin met the SADE’s stare, and Denise’s hint sunk home.

∞

As Delhart’s moons continued their asynchronous orbits, their alignment dissipated, and their peak tidal force on the planet waned. The crevasses and crevices eased their erratic expansions and contractions. This severely decreased the amount of ice thrown above the surface.

SADEs aboard travelers searched for Trax’s team two. They found four bodies lightly covered in Delhart ice.

The team was one-hundred-and-seventy meters from the transport dome. However, they weren’t on a direct approach to what would have been a safe harbor. In the blinding ice, they’d depleted their oxygen and fallen while passing the dome.

Soon after the SADEs recovered the four bodies, they learned the good news about Gat’r. Rather, they heard from Gat’r himself.

The Jatouche medical treatment had progressed to the point that Nalia could remove Gat’r from the tank. The vertebrae were whole and properly aligned. Now nanites could swiftly finish the job.

SADEs gently transferred Gat’r to a medical table, and Nalia stabilized his position before she removed the inducer from Gat’r’s temple.

Consciousness returned to Gat’r. His eyes popped open, and he stared at the faces of SADEs who surrounded him. “Did we win?” he asked.

“Yes, you won, young one,” Miranda replied.

Then the next thought that occurred to Gat’r was expressed as, “Who hit me?”

As one of the few humans admitted to medical during the transfer, Escher said apologetically, “I’m so sorry, Gat’r. Inadvertently, I dropped a body on top of you.”

Gat’r lifted a hand, and Escher crossed the deck to take it. “As long as it wasn’t one of our bodies,” Gat’r said anxiously.

“It wasn’t,” Bethany replied, stepping to the table’s other side and gripping Gat’r’s hand.

“Then everything is all right,” Gat’r replied, yawning.

Nalia replaced the inducer, and the audience, except for Nalia, exited medical.

In the corridor, Jasper’s crew hugged one another. They’d been linked to Miranda to hear the exchange.

The gang member who had required the most support from the crew had been transformed by the SADEs to the extent that he could make the choice to fight for a planet wearing advanced tech. It had nearly cost him his life, but, again with the help of the SADEs, he would be returned to them.

31: Rim Expansion

ABOARD AN AXIS-SHIP

RIM BOUND

Not by coincidence, Lisa Dyehouse of Pure Pour, Karl Denham of Raw Metals, and Frank Allbers of Regolith Recovery boarded the same shuttle lifting from Naiad.

They had time to meet and chat on the five loops outward to the rim before they reached Geneva, where Karl might exit for the Raw-Mets mining planet.

The critical subject discussed in great detail was Lisa’s comment about expansion.

“Let’s be blunt,” Lisa said, during one of the conversations. “Who has an individual or individuals in employment on Beta One? I’ve two.”

“One,” Frank admitted.

“I’ve two,” Karl added.

“Do either of you have a person in the cloning department?” Lisa asked. “The reason I ask is my two contacts aren’t engaged there.”

The answers were negative from Frank and Karl.

“The information I’ve received is that the cloning department has discrete operations,” Karl said. “Nothing goes through comtech. Shipments don’t even move through the domes. Pedestrian traffic is halted and cleared within the shuttle port, and then the clones are swiftly loaded.”

“Lately, the sisters are facilitating clone transfers for X-Ore,” Frank offered.

“Heard that,” Lisa replied, nodding. “I see several ways in which we can facilitate expansion and gain our independence from our present circumstances. Our challenges are labor, CenGas, and Naiad, in no particular order. Imagine the opportunity if we explored other wormholes and located our own ice planet.”

“There is the Satchel Wormhole,” Frank suggested.

“I see that as a last resort,” Karl replied. “That’s the loop the sisters took to arrive at Beta Two. What if there are many more of them back there?”

“Worse, what if the sisters were fleeing a conflict?” Lisa asked pointedly.

“So, we explore the nearby wormholes,” Karl summed. “All those from the Filium system are in service.”

“There are the two outward from Transit One,” Frank noted. “Unfortunately, neither is close to my planet’s system.”

“Kilmer has one, and its opening is near the Daimler system,” Lisa said. “It’s ripe for exploration.”

“Via an Axis-ship?” Karl queried. “I don’t think we could convince a captain to abandon a lucrative trade route to go exploring.”

“See, that’s the problem,” Lisa said defiantly. “We’ve become trapped in a process of our own making. We paid for the Axis-ships, but we don’t have control of them. We gave it away. Now the captains, who make fortunes on the existing routes, aren’t interested in our expansion.”

“What’s the alternative?” Frank asked.

“What’s wrong with the way we did it originally?” Lisa inquired.

“You mean with the survey ships?” Frank asked dubiously.

“Sure,” Lisa replied. “I checked on the status of the survey ships. They’re sitting at a station on Naiad’s rim.”

“They’re old,” Karl objected. “When was the last time that one of them was in service?”

“One-hundred-thirty years ago,” Lisa quickly replied. “You know what I’m not hearing from you two? I’m not hearing problem-solving attitudes. You’re exactly the kind of chairpersons who have caused us to fall into stagnation.”

“That’s insulting,” Frank retorted.

“But probably true,” Karl admitted. “Okay, Lisa, you’ve obviously thought through many of these challenges. Try sharing your research with us and allow us to catch up.”

Lisa tipped her head in acknowledgment of the offer. “If we want to solve the challenges I’ve listed, we must locate and develop new planets. I’d love to have the starships that the SADEs and sisters possess, but I don’t see that in our near future. The obvious way to add new worlds is through wormhole investigation. It’s possible the survey ships can be overhauled. If they can’t, we’ve the template to order another one built.”

“Is the contractor still available?” Frank asked.

Lisa politely laughed. “That contractor and others build and maintain the Axis-ships. The survey ships are nothing but mini-Axis-ships.”

“Okay, we get a survey ship, one way or the other. Then what?” Karl asked.

“We dive through the unexplored wormhole near the Daimler system,” Lisa replied.

“To what end?” Frank asked.

“What do you mean?” Lisa queried. She was sure she knew what Frank meant, but she needed to hear him say it.

“We help you pay for a survey ship. It explores the wormhole off your system, and the ship identifies a viable mining planet. Do you claim the planet for Pure Pour?” Frank inquired.

“The two of you still don’t get it, do you?” Lisa accused. “Think on what we’ve discussed. If we’re to continue our talks, I need to hear something different from you two.” Then she left the intimate bar to return to her cabin.

“Tell me what I’m missing,” Frank requested after Lisa left.

“That was Lisa’s pitch for a new organization,” Karl said.

“A single corporation?” Frank asked. His tone rejected the idea outright.

“Or a conglomerate,” Karl offered, “which could have value.”

“Expansion will cost enormous credits, and my board focuses on expenditures to the exclusion of nearly everything else,” Frank pointed out.

“As does mine,” Karl added. “But Lisa’s right about one thing. We’re stagnating. Without seeking new opportunities, we won’t grow.”

“New tech did come to us through our expansion,” Frank said. “I suppose Lisa would want to be head of the new conglomerate.”

“Why not let her?” Karl replied. “She’s the one coming up with the ideas. We’d need someone like that leading us. Besides, what’s our alternative plan?”

“You’ve a point there,” Frank replied.

After a brief stop at Delhart to exchange passengers and supplies, the chairpersons’ Axis-ship sailed for the wormhole to loop for Geneva. Not long behind them, another Axis-ship arrived in the Felder system. That ship had as passengers the assault team, who would soon attack Delhart.

A few days later, as Lisa’s ship sailed toward Geneva, she received a curt message from Gant, her director of ops, and she called Frank and Karl to meet.

“Bad news,” Lisa announced to the men. “The team failed at Delhart.”

“Was there any success?” Karl asked.

“None,” Lisa replied. “They never made it to the harvesters.”

“All dead, I hope,” Frank muttered.

“According to Gant’s contact, three were captured ... Scanlon and Samos, who were hired from Delhart, and a new man, Greene,” Lisa said.

“We can assume that CenGas knows who sent them,” Frank said darkly. He still harbored resentment about Lisa taking the team away from him.

Karl chuckled. “CenGas knew that before the team landed, Frank,” he said. “You need to start putting together some of these small pieces of information to see the bigger picture.”

“I’m getting a little tired of you two pointing out that I’m —” Frank started.

“Enough,” Lisa said quietly but harshly. “We’re stuck with inconsistent deliveries of water ice and frozen gases for the near future. Maybe the SADEs can help them with that.”

“Certainly, the failure at Delhart will open the eyes of my board to see the value of expansion. We need our own ice planet.” Karl pointed out.

Lisa and Karl regarded Frank for his opinion, and he stared sullenly at them.

Lisa caught Karl’s eyes, and she marginally tipped her head toward Frank.

“Apologies, Frank,” Karl said. “I didn’t mean to sound insulting.”

“Fine,” Frank replied. “Now tell me what you meant.”

Karl sighed and held out his hands, as if to see that it was easy to understand. “Look, Frank, the SADEs and the sisters are radical elements among us. Every time you think about the way our planets do business, you have to consider how they are affecting the processes.”

“Okay,” Frank admitted. It was obvious that he hadn’t been considering their effect.

“We left Naiad to escape the scrutiny of those recordings,” Lisa continued. “Who do you think captured them?”

“I thought that was obvious,” Frank replied. “SADE tech was the only thing capable of getting through comtech encryption.”

Lisa and Karl silently regarded Frank and waited for him to put the pieces together.

It took a few moments for Frank to process the bits and pieces, but he got there. “If that doesn’t suck vacuum,” he said, shaking his head. “The SADEs have access to our wormhole messaging system.”

“Yes, they do,” Karl agreed. “I’m sure it’s not common knowledge, but it won’t take long before the word gets out to the rim business community.”

“That’s how CenGas knew the team was coming,” Frank said, catching up on the conversation.

“Exactly,” Lisa said. “But here’s the interesting part. According to Gant’s contact, the SADEs didn’t take part in the defense of the harvesters.”

“No?” Karl queried. “Then why did the team fail?”

“First of all, bad timing,” Lisa replied. “They arrived at the alignment of the moons over the harvesters.”

“Idiots,” Frank interjected.

“Admittedly,” Lisa responded. “Still, they might have made their targets if it weren’t for the actions of three defenders.”

“Three defenders defeated how many of the assault team?” Karl inquired.

“Nine,” Lisa replied. “Do you remember that suit that Bethany wore? It was called Athena. Apparently, that suit is capable of much more than we thought. The three defenders wore them.”

“Were any of those three hurt or killed?” Frank asked.

“One hurt; none killed,” Lisa reported.

“That’s a break,” Frank said. “At least, CenGas can’t hold the death of one of their own against us.”

“So, where do we go from here?” Karl inquired. “We’ve limited supplies from CenGas. We haven’t solved the labor problem, and Naiad will want to pursue the corporations in court.”

“Here’s how I see the labor issue,” Lisa said, smiling. “We’ve two options.”

“Two?” Frank queried dubiously.

“Yes, two,” Lisa replied. “The traditional method is to procure clones. This will work for the short term, but we’ll always be at the mercy of Jason Lazama.”

“And we saw how erratic he’s become,” Karl added.

“Man never saw a stim drink he didn’t want to inhale,” Frank said, shuddering. He abhorred the stuff.

“Another option might be the sisters,” Lisa said.

Both men stared bemused at Lisa, as if she’d lost her mind. In reply, Lisa calmly returned their gazes and waited.

Lisa’s confidence spurred the men to reconsider her idea.

Lisa saw her companions’ expressions change, and she asked, “What tidbits of information have we collected about the sisters?”

“They arrived at Beta Two via the Satchel Wormhole,” Frank quickly offered.

“They were few in number but easily insinuated themselves into X-Ore’s Beta Two community,” Karl added.

“Then they jumped to Beta One, but not all of them,” Frank continued.

“Why did they do that?” Lisa asked, prodding the men.

Karl’s smile was broad. “Better opportunity. More resources.”

“And they haven’t had any issue helping with clone deliveries,” Frank noted.

“The sisters need allies,” Karl said, jumping to the conclusion.

“Okay, but why?” Frank asked.

“Who cares?” Lisa replied. “If they want to dominate humankind, what’s that to us? We’re trying to do the same thing through our corporations. We buy clones, and we don’t want interference from Naiad while we pursue our profits. If we accommodate the sisters, they should be content to allow us to run our conglomerate.”

“That’s cold, Lisa,” Karl said, admiringly.

Lisa glanced at Frank, who was smiling and nodding his approval.

“Only one question,” Karl said, raising a finger.

“How do I engage the leader of the sisters?” Lisa proposed.

“Exactly,” Karl replied. “I can’t see Connor Metcalf allowing you to speak with his prized ally.”

“I thought I’d invite her to Kilmer,” Lisa said.

“I don’t suppose you have her slate ID?” Karl said, chuckling at this joke.

Frank had his opportunity to laugh. “It looks like I’m not the only slow learner in this group,” he said. “The answer is simple. Lisa sends a message addressed to Miriamal at Beta Two. If the SADEs are monitoring our rim messages, then one of the sisters will ensure she gets the message.”

Lisa laughed, clapped her hands, and pointed appreciatively at Frank. “See what happens when we cooperate,” she said.

“I’m rethinking exiting at Geneva,” Karl said.

“I’m sailing to Kilmer with Lisa,” Frank said definitively. “We need to move past the planning stage, make some decisions, and kick things into gear that will fulfill our plan.”

Lisa spared a moment to study Frank. She’d always thought he’d be the individual she’d have to drag along. Now he was proposing the goal she’d hoped to convince the men to adopt.

Karl considered the idea. “I guess I’m sailing with the two of you to Kilmer,” he said, “and if we’re going to be proactive, there’s no time like the present.”

Lisa was more than pleasantly surprised. Peeling the slate off her sleeve, she stiffened it and composed a message, which she shared. There ensued a terse conversation, as the three corporate heads pared the message to its simplest elements. In the end, it read, “Miriamal, three corporate chairpersons would like to discuss with you the advantages of working together to expand our worlds and share the resources.”

“I like it,” Karl finally pronounced.

“Second that,” Frank said.

Then with a touch of Lisa’s fingertip, the message was on its way.

Immediately, Frank and Karl contacted passenger control and extended their cabin occupancy to Kilmer, which would be the Axis-ship’s next destination.

The trio broke to refresh themselves before dinner.

Later that evening, they were seated around a table in the best restaurant the Axis-ship had to offer, which was their usual dining spot.

While enjoying drinks after ordering, Lisa’s slate chimed. She glanced at it, frowned, and then surprise lit her face.

“What?” Karl queried.

“No slate ID,” Lisa said, quickly pulling the device off her sleeve. She read the message quietly out loud, “It says, ‘Where and when?’”

“Told you,” Frank said triumphantly. “The sisters are reading the rim’s messages, and they’re intercepting those that interest them.”

“That does make you wonder,” Karl mused.

“About what?” Lisa inquired.

While food was served, there was a pause in the conversation. When the servers left, Lisa motioned for Karl to continue.

“I was just thinking about Connor Metcalf’s personality,” Karl said. “How do you think he would mesh with the sisters?”

“Abysmally,” Lisa promptly replied.

“Makes you wonder then who is really running operations at Beta One,” Karl finished.

“Jason is tickled about the numbers,” Lisa pointed out. “Clone deliveries are on time. Ore shipments have increased. Personnel reports a high level of employee satisfaction, including among the clones.”

“The sisters are running the show,” Frank concluded. He raised his glass, and the others did too. “Here’s to a profitable new conglomerate,” he said, and expensive glasses were lightly touched, with smiles all around.

32: SADEs’ Race

DELHART, FELDER SYSTEM

CENGAS PLANET

On Delhart, operations returned to normal. They weren’t the usual routines for the populace, but they were for the SADEs. The SADEs required a strong base of operations, and Delhart was it.

The sisters had made good use of the time, while Delhart had prepared for the assault team’s onslaught. Their numbers grew as ore production and GEN machines increased.

By the time the Delhart attack was blunted, the SADEs estimated a minimum of three-hundred sisters occupied the twin planets of Beta One and Beta Two. As Miriamal had planned, those numbers would be rapidly accelerating.

It would be a race between SADEs and sisters to develop the first orbital platform capable of constructing starships.

Within the SADEs’ kernels, predictions constantly ran despite the shortage of facts. At some point, the SADEs would need to know what type of ship the sisters built. For their part, the SADEs faced the same decisions — a carrier similar to the Alexander or a Trident. It was critical not to be caught off guard in the race.

Using available local materials, the SADEs constructed a rudimentary dome over the exposed bedrock, which had been cleared of ice by the traveler’s beam. The thin layer of ice deposited on the rocky face by the fallout was swiftly removed, and Valerie Gladstone, in concert with the SADEs, went to work exploring the exposed veins of ores.

Denise worked with Eaton Saby to order a standard mining dome from Naiad. They were told delivery would be within a half year, and she paid an exorbitant amount to cut that time in half.

On Delhart, the SADEs had their choices of metal ores, and Valerie, with an eye to export, had hers.

In the meantime, the SADEs built the strangest smelting furnace that Valerie had ever seen.

Despite knowing the danger of shifting ice, the SADEs landed four travelers on the surface. Of course, a controller was programmed to lift if certain shaking intensities were recorded by sensors on the landing gear.

The travelers were cargo models, and their rear hatches had been dropped. Thick power lines were run from the ships’ interiors. They supplied the energy for a small but efficient smelting engine.

SADEs worked around the chronometer to dig into the bedrock in a descending circle. Ore was transported to the smelter, and the ingots went to several bays dedicated to producing what the SADEs required and the exports CenGas could use.

Denise was happy to inform Naiad that she could deliver metal and minerals cheaper than the other corporations, which greatly surprised Naiad manufacturers. Within two days, the production amount available for shipping was claimed, and Denise and Helga toasted each other over dinner.

The SADEs’ first goal was to augment the harvesters. They required the machines to perform more efficiently. Too often, the machines would stop work and journey large distances to the safety of their bedrock.

In the interim, a traveler cleared sections of ice to offer safe harbor to the harvesters. This was a temporary stopgap, as the movement of ice would soon encroach on the bedrock that was located tens of meters below the surface.

It was two months before the SADEs installed a permanent fix for the harvesters. When the overhaul was completed for the first installation, Z tested it. He cued the harvester’s controller to head toward an unstable surface area.

The controller turned the harvester nearly eighty degrees and trundled off the bedrock. The treads drove the machine across the heavily scored surface. As it approached an unstable area, sensors read the disturbance, and the controller translated the data as threatening the harvester.

Massive grav engines within the tread mechanisms were activated, and the harvester cleared the surface by the required three meters. Then it hung there, while the sensors continued to record the abruptly shifting ice.

“Will you look at that?” Eaton Saby said, watching the harvester’s performance on a traveler’s relay of the surface activity.

“Amazing technology,” Helga agreed.

“I’ll give you that,” Eaton replied, “but that’s not what I meant. The SADEs installed their equipment, ensured it was properly connected, and then took the harvester on a field test. There were no beta tests where it was parked. The SADEs assumed it would work as designed, and it did. That’s impeccable engineering.”

In quick order, the other eight harvesters were overhauled.

Thereafter, CenGas was able to meet existing order quantities within several weeks. Following that, it began supplying Naiad and the Gelus system, which pleased many home world citizens, who didn’t want their water ice plundered.

The improvement in the harvesters’ efficiency was a primary goal for the SADEs. Now CenGas had the credits to purchase rare quantities of metal and minerals that the planet didn’t possess.

Reviewing accounting records, Denise and Helga noted that despite the SADEs’ expenditures, their company’s fortune was on the rise.

Medical facilities had dispensed the nanites offered by the SADEs, and harvester crews were the happiest they’d ever been.

As for the transport crews, reactions were mixed. For those who believed in safety, they were thrilled by the SADEs who leapt in front of them to guide them to and from the launch pad and harvesters.

Then there were the thrill seekers who dared not tell the SADEs that they didn’t want guides. They had a preference for winding their way through the tortured ice using what they called their instincts.

∞

After the interrogation of Trax and his associates, Denise met privately with Cremsylon.

“I’d like to know the name of the infiltrator,” Denise requested.

“Janet Woolen, who works in your comtech department,” Cremsylon promptly replied.

Denise sent a message to Carlin Isles, who immediately dispatched two agents to arrest the woman.

Janet wasn’t surprised to see the agents approach her. She’d been expecting that the day would eventually arrive, and she lamented that she’d been abandoned. Her investiture within CenGas was contracted for two years, with a substantial bonus to be paid by Kilmer at the commitment’s end.

At present, Janet was going on three years as an undercover agent for Kilmer. Repeatedly, Gant had refused to release her bonus, which would have allowed her to make an excuse to the comtech department head and make for Naiad.

“Thank you,” Denise said sincerely to Cremsylon. “You’re doing so much for our company that I’ve been thinking how we might repay you. It might take a while, but there’s the possibility that we could get someone undercover at Beta One. That individual could report on the sisters’ progress.”

“We thank you for the gesture, but the help you receive from us serves our purpose too. That’s what allies do for each other,” Cremsylon replied. “As to your offer, you shouldn’t jeopardize your contractors in that manner. If CEO Connor Metcalf continues to run the planet, which we highly doubt, an agent of yours would probably be caught. That might put their life in jeopardy. Citizen Metcalf, whom we’ve met, is a vindictive human.”

“Why do you say that the CEO probably isn’t in charge of operations?” Denise inquired.

“We know the sisters,” Cremsylon explained. “Miriamal, their leader, won’t tolerate the CEO’s style or attitude. She’ll have left him as a figurehead. Then she and her sisters would manage the entire planet’s operations.”

Cremsylon chuckled, borrowing the sound from Kelley’s patriarch, Mickey Brandon.

“What?” Denise asked.

“Although Citizen Metcalf is left with nothing to do,” Cremsylon replied, “he’s probably joyfully reporting the sisters’ increased production to Chairperson Lazama as his own doing. Essentially, he’s taking credit for the bountiful credits.”

Denise groaned at the pun, and Cremsylon laughed, recalling fond memories of long-lost friends.

“I’ve mentioned this before, but it bears repeating,” Cremsylon said. “Any rim message that emanates from the X-Ore planets or is received by them will be monitored by the sisters.”

“That means attempting to get someone undercover would expose them via our communications,” Denise mused.

“Undoubtedly,” Cremsylon replied. “For your information, we’re able to estimate the sisters’ progress. That includes the growth in their numbers and their construction progress.”

Denise shook her head at the capabilities the SADEs continued to show. “When will you take the four arrested individuals to Naiad?” she asked.

“Is that to be Citizen Woolen’s destination?” Cremsylon inquired.

“She’s guilty of industrial espionage, which Naiad authorities have laws against,” Denise replied. “Out here on the rim, we’ve no courts and few laws. Oftentimes, the corporations take things into their own hands. Accidents, if you get my meaning.”

Cremsylon stared quietly at Denise, who quickly added, “That’s never been our way. Anyone we caught was sent to Naiad for trial.”

“We’ll require you travel with us to Naiad,” Cremsylon said.

“To validate the evidence,” Denise surmised.

“Yes,” Cremsylon said. “Perhaps, this time we’ll build a little credibility with Naiad authorities. We’ll leave for the Gelus system after the temporary dome and smelter are working. We must be back in time to accept the offload of the new dome from the Axis-ship.”

∞

At one point, during the initial operations, the mickies approached Kelley.

“We’d like to be of use,” Jasper said. “We’ve implants and months of education about this ship, the controllers, and your tech. We believe that we can be of service.”

Kelley gazed across the mickies’ intense expressions.

As was common, the conversation was shared among the SADEs. Many of them wished Kelley good fortune in solving the dilemma.

“How do you think you can help?” Kelley asked. He calculated that the mickies might not have answers for the question, and he could ask them to think on the subject. If he was fortunate, they might seek out Cremsylon, Z, or Miranda when they were ready to talk.

It wasn’t to be. The mickies flooded him with suggestions. Some were too dangerous. Some required more training on their part. However, they did have a few thoughts that intrigued him.

When the harvesters had struggled to fulfill production numbers and profits had tumbled, CenGas had bought out contracts and laid off workers across the board. As such, the company was short for many operational jobs. To exacerbate the issue, the hiring practice usually involved months.

The mickies volunteered to work at the landing pad as loaders, drive the transports, and train any implant adoptees. Furthermore, they volunteered to work for free, which was a suggestion that Kelley told them not to repeat.

As for CenGas, the personnel department head was thrilled to have nine immediate replacements, especially when she learned that the SADEs would train them.

However, the personnel head did make one mistake. She chose to negotiate the monthly stipend with Jasper and quickly discovered that the ex-gang leader was a shrewd trader. It helped Jasper that he held the company’s pay scales, designated by job title, in his implant. The data was supplied by Kelley.

The personnel head agreed to Jasper’s final offer just to get him out of her office, and the mickie left with a big smile on his face.

The personnel department was only able to hire nine mickies. The tenth mickie was Gat’r, and he had other ideas.

After being pronounced completely healed by Nalia and released from medical, Gat’r had hugged the SADE, holding on to her far longer than any human, except for a clone named Ude. Then he hurried to his cabin, connected to Hephaestus, and donned the suit. He waited anxiously in a corridor for the next traveler to drop.

Taking pity on Gat’r, Kelley manufactured an excuse to visit the domes, and Gat’r was pleased to ride planetside with him.

In the domes, Gat’r signaled Bethany and Escher, who he knew practiced at this time every day. When he found them, he announced, “I want to join the training, but I don’t want to continue role playing with the three of us.”

“What do you suggest?” Escher inquired.

Just then, ex-Captain Johann Stegmeir and ex-Lieutenant Stacey Caballero entered the bay.

“You called. We came,” Stacey said pleasantly.

“Apologies for our poor responses, Gat’r,” Johann added.

“Implants take a little while to adopt,” Gat’r replied. “After that, you won’t understand how you lived without them.”

Stacey greeted Bethany and Escher with a raised hand, but she hugged Gat’r. “Good to see you well,” she said.

Johann acknowledged the other pair too, but he shook Gat’r’s hand and clapped his shoulder. “It was a courageous thing you did out on the ice.”

“Bethany and Escher were much more successful than me,” Gat’r said, pointing at his suited companions. “All I did was find a nice crevice and jump into it.”

“Johann and I were amazed by what the three of you did on the surface,” Stacey said. “That’s what convinced us that we were dragging our feet about SADE tech. Thus, new implants,” and she tapped her temple.

“Gat’r offered us the opportunity to watch your exhibition, and we thought this was a good time to see if we should get suits,” Johann said.

“Welcome,” Bethany said. “Take a seat near a bulkhead. That will keep you out of the action.”

As the ex-officers sat down, Carlin Isles entered the bay with five agents in full mods. “What’s the emergency?” he asked.

“How would you like some combat exercise?” Gat’r asked with a smile, which Carlin returned.

During the assault, Carlin and his agents had apprehensively stood guard in the harvesters. In the aftermath, they saw the weapons that the assault team had amassed, and they were stricken by the idea that they were woefully unprepared to repel them.

Afterward, Carlin had approached Helga with a request to procure more powerful weapons, which she knocked down. Then he asked permission to speak to the SADEs about implants and suits, such as Athena. Helga had referred the request to Denise, who said she’d consider it.

While those negotiations were ongoing and with this offer in front of him, Carlin saw the opportunity to train his agents against the suits as the next best thing.

“We’re all yours,” Carlin replied, spreading his massive, armored arms wide.

<Gat’r, how did you manage this? Did you hack comtech?> Bethany sent.

<You shouldn’t make things difficult for yourself, Bethany,> Gat’r sent in reply. <If you want something done, just ask the controllers. They’ll take care of your needs. If they can’t, your request will be referred to a SADE, who will consider it and manage it, if it’s approved.>

“How would you like to begin?” Carlin asked. “By the way, if you dent pieces of our armor, then the SADEs have to repair them.”

Bethany queried Cremsylon, who agreed to the request. “Done,” she said to Carlin. She was ready to send Carlin one of the scenarios they’d been practicing, when she realized the agents didn’t have implants.

Escher solved the problem by requesting a computer from comtech.

An agent installed the standalone unit and powered it. He turned to Escher, intending to guide him through its operation. Then he heard a woman’s voice say, “Greetings, Escher,” and he whirled to see the head and shoulders of an alluring woman projected above the mat.

“Thank you for the installation,” Escher said politely. “I’ll be fine with the computer.”

The tech stared at the image for a little longer. Then he recognized the woman. “That’s Ceda, isn’t it?” he asked.

“Yes, it is,” Escher replied.

“She’s your avatar?” the tech queried in surprise

“I find she relaxes me. Helps me concentrate,” Escher explained.

“She wouldn’t do that for me,” the tech replied, which made the security agents chuckle.

After the tech left, Bethany sent her initial scenario to Escher, who relayed it to the computer.

Carlin and his agents regarded the movement of the figures. “We’re to effect an arrest,” he surmised. “I take it that we know nothing of how you’d react.”

Bethany smiled and tipped her head.

Carlin and his agents exited the bay and counted off two minutes. “We don’t know our adversaries,” he warned his agents. “Treat them as dangerous and be careful.”

Then Carlin and his people flooded into the bay. “You’re under arrest,” he shouted, as his agents spread out in a semicircle.

The trio was seated at a table.

“What are the charges?” Bethany asked. She signaled Escher and Gat’r, who rose from their seats with her.

“You’ll hear the charges later,” Carlin said harshly. Watching the subtle movements of the trio, he called out, “You’re to stand where you are, or there will be repercussions.”

Ignoring the commander’s orders, Bethany, Escher, and Gat’r slowly separated.

“Take them,” Carlin ordered.

Two agents focused on each of the trio. Within less than a minute, Carlin and his people were on the deck.

“I don’t think we dented the armor this time,” Gat’r said, extending a hand to help an agent up.

The speed, strength, and accuracy of the suits told Carlin that he had to revisit the conversation with Denise soon.

“You rely too much on your mods’ power,” Bethany said to the agents. “I understand that. I wore mods like your commander for years. You feel invincible in them. Let’s try it again. This time, think containment, and use your power to trap us when you’ve achieved that.”

The scenarios and attempts continued for nearly two hours before Bethany called a halt to the exercises. Mods and suits required recharging.

33: Welcome Collusion

<This area of the human race continues to resemble the Confederation,> Theda sent to Miriamal.

<What’s the latest development?> Miriamal queried.

<You’ve an invitation from three corporate chairpersons to collude with them,> Theda sent.

<Theda, if I didn’t know you were incapable of a jest, I would think that you were inventing this.>

Miriamal received Lisa’s message from Theda via her comm.

<How opportunistic,> Miriamal commented, after scanning the message.

<The humans have five corporations mining six planets. We control one company, and three more offer their services. Fortune guides us,> Theda sent.

Miriamal sent a quick response of “where and when?” However, she had no thought of letting the humans dictate the details.

<It wouldn’t be in our favor to let the humans come here,> Theda sent.

<Agreed,> Miriamal replied. <I’ll have to sail the Dominance to one of the other mining planets. The message originated from Chairperson Lisa Dyehouse.>

Theda searched the portion of the Dominance’s records that had been downloaded from the Beta planets’ comtech centers. <Dyehouse heads the Pure Pour company. It mines a planet called Kilmer in the Daimler system.>

<What’s the number of anomalies that must be used?> Miriamal queried.

<Two,> Theda replied. <You would pass through the rim’s center. Humans refer to it as Axis Crossing.>

<This should be an interesting meeting,> Miriamal mused. <I calculate that we might have more options than we originally posited.>

<How so?> Galena, who had been listening, queried.

<The message speaks of expansion,> Miriamal explained. <It would most likely be through a new anomaly. It would be to our advantage to be part of a new venture with these humans. Our development work would be highly prized, which would make the new organization extremely protective of our kind.>

<In addition, we’d have a new location to grow our numbers,> Theda offered. <If we’re given enough time, we could become the dominant species.>

<Another new message favors us,> Helena interjected. <It’s from Chairperson Denise Bell of CenGas.>

<The company has shorted X-Ore repeatedly on shipments of frozen gases,> Theda commented, as she reviewed Beta One’s financial records.

<Citizen Bell announces that Delhart will now be able to fulfill all shipment orders, including back orders,> Helena reported.

<How generous of Cremsylon to help Delhart’s efforts and, by extension, our efforts,> Miriamal said, and the sisters shared harsh jangling tones.

The sisters performed several calculations combining the origination point of Lisa’s message, the Axis-ship’s schedule, and the ship’s expected arrival time at Kilmer.

Then, at the appropriate time, Miriamal, Helena, and Galena sailed the Dominance from Beta One toward Kilmer.

Miriamal left Theda in charge of operations. She had more than three-hundred sisters to aid her.

After passing through two wormholes, the Dominance transited above the Daimler system.

Lisa was enjoying the first meal in her apartment with Karl and Frank since returning to Kilmer. Her slate, which was muted, chimed. Frowning, she touched the call icon.

<You requested a meeting,> Miriamal sent.

That the call had no originating data cued Lisa as to who she’d heard, but not much else. “Miriamal?” Lisa inquired.

<Yes,> Miriamal replied. Keeping her introduction simple allowed the sister to test the woman’s cognitive capabilities.

“This is a call,” Lisa said. “Does that mean that your ship is nearby?”

<It does,> Miriamal replied.

Frank checked the shuttle port’s log. An alien ship’s appearance had just been recorded. He showed the log to Lisa.

“Would this ship be the Dominance?” Lisa asked.

<It is,> Miriamal affirmed.

“My two associates and I would be pleased to meet you aboard your ship,” Lisa offered, “and, if allowed, a tour would be welcome.”

<Both can be arranged,> Miriamal replied. <As it’s your evening hours, we’ll land a traveler planetside tomorrow morning at your eight hours. Wear your suits and stand by in the engineering bay that serves your landing pad.>

Lisa would have affirmed the details, but the call icon darkened.

“You do realize the amazing timing of that call,” Karl offered.

“It’s astounding,” Lisa muttered. “We were en route when we messaged Miriamal.”

Frank checked his chronometer. “We’ve been in the domes approximately four hours,” he said, shaking his head at the incredulity.

Karl laughed, easing the tension. “The Dominance probably arrived in system soon after we landed. Then Miriamal gave us a few hours to unpack and refresh ourselves,” he said.

“If she’s so omniscient, the least she could have done is wait until we finished our meal,” Frank grumped.

“Speak for yourself, Frank,” Lisa said, picking up her utensil. “Prior to dinner, I was tired and hadn’t much appetite. Now I find I’m starved.”

“I’ve heard rumors about the aliens’ shuttles,” Frank said. “The ride to the Dominance should be eye-opening.”

“Frank,” Lisa started to say.

“I know,” Frank quickly replied. “They aren’t aliens. They’re sisters.”

“Don’t forget it,” Lisa said between bites. “We can’t afford to make mistakes during this first meeting.”

<Intuitive woman,> Galena commented to her sisters.

<On first impression, Dyehouse is an entirely different human than Doell or Metcalf,> Helena added.

<This bodes well for us,> Miriamal mused. <If she’s a talented senior administrator, then she’ll have carefully considered the ramifications of her offer before it was made.>

<Do we give Dyehouse and her associates a complete tour?> Galena inquired.

<Negative,> Miriamal replied. <I don’t want them bored by our utilitarian finishes. We’ll confine the tour to the highlights that will impress them.>

Early the next morning, Lisa, Karl, and Frank met Gant, the security commander, and several techs with suits. Lisa hadn’t had time to discuss the assault team’s debacle at Delhart, but that subject wasn’t foremost on her mind.

“I can’t remember the last time I had one of these on,” Frank remarked, as a tech helped him step into a suit’s leg.

“I practiced donning a suit for emergencies,” Karl said, “but I’ve never had an occasion to use one.”

“Chairperson Dyehouse, are you sure that you don’t want security to accompany you?” the commander asked. “I could have a team with full mods here in less than a half hour.”

“Commander, we’ve had glimpses of the SADEs on Naiad,” Lisa explained. “According to the details we’ve received, the sisters are an offshoot of the SADEs. If that’s true, the sisters would wreck your pretty armor before you could take a step or swing a fist.”

Gant frowned at the commander. The last clone delivery had convinced him of the sisters’ unworldly powers, and he told the commander not to offer security to the chairperson. It appeared to him that the commander was taking advantage of her presence to go over his head.

The techs managed to bundle the VIPs into their suits. Helmets were kept in hands until they were notified that the sisters’ shuttle had landed.

At precisely one minute to eight hours, Gant received a call from shuttle control.

“Director Gant, the alien shuttle is settling on the landing pad,” the voice said.

Frank winced, knowing what was coming.

“Director, get the message out to everyone,” Lisa said harshly. “These visitors aren’t aliens. They’re called sisters. Am I understood?”

“Perfectly,” Gant replied.

“Helmets, please,” the senior tech advised. Then the techs ensured that the helmets had seals and that oxygen flowed.

“Shuttle is down, Director. Three aliens exited and are crossing the pad,” the shuttle control voice announced.

Lisa eyed Gant, and he raised a finger to acknowledge that he’d heard the voice misspeak again and he’d heard her directive.

The rotating airlock opened, and the senior tech ushered the three VIPs into the chamber. When the inner hatch closed, the air was evacuated, and the outer hatch rotated aside.

Daimler’s light was dim and low on the horizon, which made the stars bright against the dark of space.

<The humans appear to be in trouble,> Galena sent. <They haven’t moved since the mechanism’s rotation.>

<Possibly, they’ve not ventured into an airless environment before now,> Helena offered.

<Be tolerant. Be considerate,> Miriamal cautioned. She connected to the chairpersons’ comm system. <May we be of service?> she sent.

<Perhaps, we pick them up and carry them to the traveler,> Galena suggested.

<The humans would be embarrassed,> Helena replied.

<Patience,> Miriamal sent.

There was only one female form among the humans, which made Miriamal’s task easier. She approached Lisa and gently shook her arm, repeating, <May we be of service?>

Lisa’s alarmingly wide eyes focused on the attractive female face behind the viewplate. The sister smiled benevolently at her, and Lisa hesitantly returned the smile.

<Allow me to take your arm,> Miriamal sent. <If it will make you more comfortable, you may hold my hand.>

Gently, Miriamal guided Lisa out of the airlock and across the harsh environment to the waiting traveler.

Helena and Galena had heard Miriamal’s technique with Lisa, and they copied it with the two men. Their efforts were easier. The two men reacted positively to the exquisite female faces in front of them.

Inside the traveler, with the hatch closed, Miriamal sent, <You’re safe now. Please allow us to help you with your suits.>

“We don’t need to keep them on for liftoff? In case of an accident, I mean,” Frank inquired.

<We’re already far above the surface, Ser,> Galena sent. <And our travelers rarely encounter situations that endanger passengers.>

Lisa and Karl reached to shut down their oxygen supply and remove their helmets. They were surprised by how swiftly the sisters helped them out of their suits.

“How long is the flight?” Frank asked. Helena stood beside him, gesturing toward his helmet, but he was loath to accede to her request.

<It will be about a third of your hours,> Helena sent. <If you’re more comfortable wearing your suit, feel free to keep it on it.>

“Oh,” Lisa said in a breathless voice. “Frank, you have to try one of these seats.”

“Amazing,” Karl echoed, subtly shifting in his seat.

Feeling a little awkward, Frank reached for his helmet, and Helena shut off his oxygen flow for him.

When the humans were comfortably seated, the sisters doffed their suits, and the chairpersons gawked at the sight.

<If we can’t impress them with our tech, we can always stun them with our avatars,> Galena sent, and the sisters privately shared raucous noises.

Aboard the Dominance, Miriamal let the humans experience the absolute smoothness of a lift to the bridge. The huge holo-vid and its projection clarity amazed them. Then she led the humans to a conference room that had been decorated for this event. It projected an aura of humankind’s refined tastes.

“We’d like to hear more about your proposal,” Miriamal said.

“There aren’t many details,” Lisa said. “At this time, it’s a broad idea.”

Miriamal tipped her head and extended a delicate hand to Lisa to continue.

The chairpersons found it hard to believe the information they’d accumulated. Supposedly, the sisters were physically dangerous. However, their slight builds were viewed as no match for fully modified security agents.

“Essentially, we believe that our companies have stagnated, and that expansion is necessary,” Lisa continued. “We’d like to explore other wormholes and discover new opportunities.”

“Each of you individually?” Helena asked. She’d focused on Frank and smiled pleasantly.

“No,” Frank responded agreeably. “We intend to form a conglomerate for any expanded territory.”

“Equitable sharing?” Galena asked, indicating the trio of humans.

“Absolutely,” Karl replied.

“What are you offering us?” Miriamal inquired.

“What would you be able to do for us?” Lisa asked.

<I like this one,> Galena commented to her sisters. <Avarice motivates her, which we can use, but she appears to be a careful administrator.>

The humans watched a screen of data project from Helena’s hand.

Miranda used a finger to lead the chairpersons through the information that was displayed. Mouths fell open and clicked shut at the improvements in Beta One’s output under the sisters’ control.

“That’s impressive,” Lisa acknowledged. “What have the sisters gotten out of the deal?”

<Galena, your summation of Chairperson Dyehouse has value,> Miriamal sent. <This might be the individual we’ve hoped to find among the humans. She’s in a position of power. She’s managed to form a cabal with two other leaders, and she chooses to enter into an agreement with her eyes wide open.>

“We’ve goals of our own,” Miriamal replied to Lisa. “The output you’ve seen is the portion that Beta One received. A significant amount of the output was diverted to our projects.”

“You generated more than what we studied?” Karl asked with incredulity.

“About eighteen percent more,” Galena replied. “Much of this material wasn’t suitable for X-Ore’s shipments. However, the minerals and metals were of value to us.”

Lisa quickly marked two subjects to pursue.

The sisters noticed the shift in Lisa’s eyes, and they anticipated her questions.

“Would you be willing to share your technology with us?” Lisa asked.

Miriamal recorded an instance of déjà vu. The sisters had promised the Jargats that they would share their technology. However, their promises to the Jargats were often misleading, if not frequently false.

As the militarist sect of the Sisterhood pursued domination of the Jargat society, it became obvious to them that they’d miscalculated. Instead of their efforts endearing the Jargats to the sisters, the relationship became fractious.

It was this division that Julien and his allies exploited. Eventually, the Jargats accepted the aid that the newcomers offered, and they turned their broad backs on the sisters.

Miriamal chose to pursue a different path with these three humans. In her kernel, she imagined the conglomerate as set apart from humankind in this area of space.

“Typically, we’ve not parted with all of our technology,” Miriamal said. “However, under certain conditions, we might be inclined to execute a complete transfer.”

“Can you give us an idea of the type of tech this would entail?” Karl inquired.

“Ships and shuttles like ours. Grav technology. Advanced controllers. Crystal technology, which provides enormous efficiency for power and data storage,” Miriamal enumerated.

The chairpersons tried to appear unflappable by the mention of the enormous bounty that could be theirs, but the sisters had spotted the telltale microexpressions that indicated their lust for power.

“You mentioned conditions,” Lisa pointed out.

“We envision the new conglomerate as existing separate from the general human populace,” Miriamal offered.

“That could present difficulties,” Frank said. “We’ve need for labor and material that our present planets can’t provide.”

“You’re speaking of clones, specific metals and minerals, and frozen gases?” Helena sought to clarify.

“Yes,” Frank affirmed.

“We control Beta One and clone production,” Galena said. “That subject won’t be an issue.”

“Had your assault on Delhart been successful, you might have solved another problem,” Miriamal criticized.

The trio of humans had the good sense not to say a thing.

“Our ship’s sensors picked up deposits of ice on several planets and moons in this system’s rim,” Galena said. “Those bodies would offer a temporary solution until exploration through other anomalies could provide a more permanent base of operation.”

“Humans can’t operate on those bodies. Gravity is too high,” Frank pointed out.

“Humans can’t,” Helena replied, and she winked.

Frank’s flush was nearly imperceptible, but the sisters didn’t miss it.

<Temper your play with the human,> Miriamal sent.

<It’s difficult to resist,> Helena sent. <It’s akin to shaping clay. I can generate any response from him that I choose.>

“Could you be specific about your goals?” Lisa queried.

Again, Miriamal considered their efforts with the Jargats. This was another area where the sisters considered that they’d miscalculated. They’d learned that it was critical to form a strong bond with a specific aspect of the society. The bond would be built around direct communication of goals. Only in that way would they build a true partnership to maintain control over society at large.

“We’ve three immediate needs, and a long-range goal,” Miriamal said, focusing her attention on Lisa. “With the conglomerate, we’ll want to increase the number of sisters, build orbital stations, and construct ships and shuttles.”

“And the long-term plan?” Lisa inquired. She thought this might be the make-or-break aspect of their negotiations.

“The SADEs will want to dispossess us of this area of space,” Miriamal said and waited.

“And the SADEs will want to do this because ...?” Karl inquired, leaving the question hanging.

“We’ve a fundamental difference in how we view biologicals,” Miriamal replied.

“The sisters prefer subjugation,” Lisa volunteered.

“Yes,” Miriamal replied.

“How does the conglomerate fit into your scheme for humankind?” Karl asked.

“Previously, we made several errors,” Miriamal admitted. “We recognize that we must have allies to control the broader population.”

“And you want us to be your allies,” Frank offered.

“Your commitment must be total,” Miriamal replied. “In return, you’d enjoy levels of power and comfort that you probably couldn’t imagine today.”

The glimmer of greed returned to the humans’ eyes.

<Well done, Miriamal,> Helena sent. <This meeting and these conversations have gone far in correcting the mistakes made with the Jargats.>

<We must design a challenge to test their commitment,> Galena suggested.

<Agreed,> Miriamal sent. <Their verbal agreements are insufficient.>

“Essentially, I understand that we’ve agreed to work together,” Lisa pressed.

“Notwithstanding the details being finalized, we have,” Miriamal replied.

“What are the next steps and the timeline?” Karl inquired.

“These are the initial actions that we require you to take,” Miriamal replied. “They’re necessary to address your present affiliations. First, you will announce the formation of your conglomeration.”

“We’ll require board approvals for that,” Frank pointed out.

Helena flashed a smile. This one wasn’t so endearing. “You mistake our intention, Chairperson Allbers,” she said. “The conglomerate is meant to be an independent organization.”

“How do you expect us to arrange that?” Karl asked.

The sisters stared expectantly at the trio of humans. The first chairperson to understand the request was Lisa.

“I see,” Lisa said. “We’re supposed to cut ourselves free of our companies’ trappings. In essence, we’re going rogue. That’s a huge commitment on our part. How do we know that this isn’t a scheme of yours to recreate chaos and bring our companies down?”

“Your question is legitimate,” Miriamal replied. “What conditions do you wish in return?”

“We’ll think on that,” Lisa replied. “Are there other preconditions?”

“Assuredly,” Miriamal replied. “After the formation of your independent conglomerate, you will announce a formal alliance with the Sisterhood.”

“Your actions are contrary to many Naiad laws,” Karl said.

“That’s true,” Galena responded.

“Are we expected to make a formal declaration that we’re no longer subject to Naiad laws?” Lisa inquired.

“We believe that would be premature,” Helena replied. “Your court system is ponderous. It will take time for Naiad proceedings to advance to the point of indicting your companies. In the meantime, we’ll continue with the exploration.”

“Anything else?” Lisa queried.

“We’ll await your response with any conditions you request,” Miriamal said, standing and extending her hand to Lisa.

Lisa hesitated, and Miriamal said, “I understand your reticence. We’re unsure of each other. Trust will grow as our actions prove that we’ve done as we’ve promised. However, each of us must take the initial steps.”

Lisa shook Miriamal’s hand, and the sisters walked the humans to the Dominance’s bay.

<Do you calculate that the humans will agree to an alliance?> Galena asked her sisters.

<I expect further negotiations before a decision is reached,> Helena replied.

<If nothing else, we’ve another option to explore. The more, the better,> Miriamal sent.

Lisa, Karl, and Frank remained silent during the flight, crossing the surface, and entering the engineering bay. Then they retired to Lisa’s apartment. The silence continued, while Lisa made drinks for everyone.

Karl expressed their thoughts well when he said, “I didn’t imagine that forming the conglomerate and allying with the sisters would require we take such horrendous steps.” Then he took a deep gulp of his drink.

“For now, let’s enumerate our challenges,” Lisa advised.

Frank pointed at Lisa with his drink, which was already half-finished. “There’s the possibility that Axis-ships won’t serve us.”

“We might have to pay additional service fees,” Karl offered.

“Or we require the sisters be responsible for providing transportation,” Lisa said, which had the men thinking.

“Certainly, Naiad goods and services won’t be available to us,” Frank said. “We’ll miss the opportunity to hire highly skilled labor from Naiad.”

“Frank, you haven’t been paying attention to your personnel reports,” Karl said. “We rarely hire from Naiad. Nearly every skilled or administrative employee is a son or a daughter of parents who already work on the rim. Our people retire to Naiad, but they rarely originate from there anymore.”

“It’s obvious that this concept of the conglomerate is going to take some rethinking,” Lisa mused. “For now, we need to imagine that we are the only rim companies. Then we must ask ourselves what we’ll need to function independently with the sisters’ help but without Naiad’s aid.”

“Don’t forget to add the hiring of extra security agents,” Karl added.

“Against the sisters?” Frank asked in confusion.

“No, against everyone else,” Karl replied.

“I just thought of another issue,” Lisa said. “We need to secure our company and personnel credits from Naiad financial institutions.”

“And move them where?” Karl asked, offering an empty glass to Lisa, who mixed him another drink.

“That’s a good question,” Lisa remarked over her shoulder.

“Which leads to another point,” Frank said. “What happens with our personnel, either immediately after our announcement or after they complete their contracts? Do they stay with us or desert us?”

“More good questions,” Lisa acknowledged.

34: Uncertain Futures

NAIAD, GELUS SYSTEM

HOME PLANET

Trax, Jorge, Brady, and Janet had free run of the Alexander. There was nothing they could do to harm the ship. In fact, they found the SADEs pleasantly helpful when asked a question.

Nonetheless, at mealtimes, the assault team and the conspirator chose to eat at a separate table.

Janet cautioned the men to keep their voices down, which they did occasionally. It didn’t matter. Even when they whispered, they were overheard by the SADEs.

Cremsylon chose to request Z, Emory, and Kelley remain behind on Delhart. They were the SADEs with extensive boring, extraction, and engineering processes. He also left the majority of SADEs on the planet to continue critical work for CenGas and the SADEs’ goals.

Miranda, Violet, and eight other SADEs accompanied Cremsylon to Naiad to deliver the prisoners.

Bethany, Escher, Ceda, Allie, and Gat’r had requested to accompany Cremsylon. In turn, he’d connected to Miranda and Violet to inquire as to the reasons for the requests. Neither of them could shine a light on the humans’ motives.

<Perhaps, three of them wish to test their suits against Naiad security mods, and the other two choose to watch,> Miranda had offered.

The jest didn’t settle well with Cremsylon. However, he graciously agreed to the requests, but he meant to ensure that Miranda would accompany the three suited humans if they insisted on dropping planetside.

There was one other human passenger.

Denise Bell asked Eaton Saby, who also had extensive engineering experience, if he would support Valerie and the SADEs. Then she boarded the Alexander to supplement the SADEs’ evidence against the four arrested individuals.

At one evening meal, Jorge finished his first plate of food and helped himself to seconds from the serving trays. “After the SADEs checked us into medical to monitor our reactions to what they call transit, I noticed you can track our voyage by them.”

“I’ve been doing the same thing,” Brady said. “Do you realize we’re already on our third loop?”

“Yeah,” Trax replied morosely. “We’re hurtling toward convictions and incarcerations in days instead of weeks.”

Janet fought back tears, and Trax apologized for his remark. The men had learned how Gant had mistreated her, keeping her in place on Delhart by withholding her bonus.

Wiping at the tears, Janet replied, “It’s not your fault, Trax. I’m guilty of industrial espionage. I just wish I wouldn’t have been so mercenary. I had enough savings to book a cabin on an Axis-ship for Naiad and forego the bonus.”

“Janet, that’s something that all three of us are thinking,” Jorge said. “When you tour this ship, speak to the SADEs, and examine their advanced tech, you come up with one conclusion. The powers-to-be were foolish to try an assault on Delhart with the SADEs resident there.”

“And we were idiots to accept the challenge and the credits,” Brady added.

Trax sipped his water and studied his half-finished plate. “Jorge, you’ve a point about the SADEs. They designed the suits that the ex-commander and the two Genevans wore.”

“Don’t forget that those three defenders had the SADEs’ implants,” Janet pointed out. “It’s the implants that make the suits active.”

“And there you have it,” Trax concluded. “Three humans each possessed two SADE gifts, and nine of us were easily defeated by them.”

“Not to mention landing in the dark and crossing a tortured surface,” Brady added.

“A SADE told me that Lucy and our second team are stored somewhere on the ship,” Jorge said. “Some have family on Naiad. Whether they do or don’t, they’re making the trip to Gelus with us.”

“It’s a shame the SADEs couldn’t easily recover Neeter,” Trax lamented. “I hated it when I told them to leave him there. Can’t stop thinking of him entombed in the ice.”

“The SADEs said they wouldn’t forget him, and they marked the location,” Jorge said. “Strange thing, I’ve more faith in their word than most humans I know.”

“I know what you mean,” Brady said. “You ask them a question, and there’s no hemming and hawing. They answer quickly and simply. Then they stand there and wait to ensure that you’re satisfied. I had the thought that I could ask them questions until I fell asleep.”

“Then they’d probably carry you to your cabin and put you to bed,” Janet said, laughing,

The men joined her, enjoying a moment of levity before their dark thoughts returned.

Mere days later, Denise Bell stood beside Cremsylon on the Alexander’s bridge. The ship had looped the final wormhole to arrive near the Gelus system. The transit would soon be completed, and the ship would appear out of the dark above Naiad.

“Who would you like to contact, Denise?” Cremsylon inquired.

Denise considered her options — the council, the security commandant, or a prosecutor.

“Cremsylon, what was the name of the prosecutor who tried X-Ore’s employees?” Denise asked.

“That would be Stephanie Wylie,” Cremsylon replied.

“Let’s start with her,” Denise suggested. “I want to see where we stand legally.”

Denise felt the unnerving tingle of the transit exit. “Yuck,” she muttered.

Cremsylon refrained from smiling. He linked to a Naiad orbital comm station and sought a connection to Citizen Wylie.

Stephanie had finished her morning exercises, made a strong pot of caf, and settled in her favorite chair to scan her slate for messages. An icon appeared, and Stephanie shook her head in disbelief. The icon was the one used for the broadcasts to herald the Alexander.

Stephanie tapped the icon and said, “To whom do I have the pleasure?”

“Good morning, Prosecutor Wylie. This is Chairperson Bell.”

“Aboard the Alexander?” Stephanie queried.

“We’re en route to a low orbit above Naiad,” Denise explained. “I’ve called to seek your advice about a delicate matter.”

“I’m listening, Chairperson,” Stephanie said, sipping on her caf.

“Delhart was attacked by a team from Kilmer,” Denise explained. “They were unsuccessful in achieving their goal. During the fighting, six of the nine attackers perished. The three remaining individuals are aboard this ship. In addition, a CenGas employee, operating for Kilmer, collaborated with the assault team. She’s aboard the ship too.”

“How did the six die?” Stephanie asked.

Denise thought it was an odd question, and she frowned at Cremsylon.

“Prosecutor Wylie. This is Cremsylon. If you seek to know if these six individuals met their deaths at the hands of SADEs, then you don’t understand us. We did not take part in the fighting. Four of the team succumbed to the ice, when they made the fatal mistake of attacking at night and when the tidal forces were greatest. The other two died at the hands of Bethany McIntyre and Escher Talons.”

“Escher, the computer genius, killed someone?” Stephanie asked incredulously.

“If harm is intended to others, biologicals will rise to the occasion and defend the intended targets,” Cremsylon pronounced.

“Where are the bodies of the six?” Stephanie asked.

“Five are on the ship,” Denise replied. “The SADEs haven’t been able to recover the sixth. He fell into a deep crevasse, and the tidal forces closed the opening.”

“I’ve the gist of the situation,” Stephanie said. “What’s the legal conundrum?”

“A vast majority of our evidence has been collected by the SADEs,” Denise explained.

Stephanie chose not to let her groan escape. The corner of a lip between her teeth handily accomplished that.

“In addition to the SADEs’ vids and data, we’ve the testimony of the three assault members who were captured,” Denise continued.

“I imagine there was no legal advocate to warn the captured people of their rights,” Stephanie said.

Denise held her temper. This was the type of reception that she’d feared. “The three attackers spoke on the condition that they were guaranteed passage to Naiad,” she said.

“And did you offer them an alternate choice?” Stephanie asked.

“Yes, we did,” Denise replied. “We didn’t intend to prosecute them on Delhart. Therefore, we told them that they could be returned to Kilmer from where they originated.”

Stephanie laughed darkly, while she juggled her cup of caf. Denise had delivered the attackers’ option in a serious manner, but the chairperson knew well the effect of that threat.

“So, Chairperson Bell, you want to know if these cases are prosecutable,” Stephanie surmised.

“No, I want to know if they’re winnable,” Denise corrected.

“At this time, I can’t give you a definitive answer,” Stephanie replied. “However, on the face of what you’ve told me, I see multiple opportunities for the defense attorneys to pick apart your case.”

Denise’s exasperation was evident, and Cremsylon was sympathetic to her ire.

“Stephanie, does Naiad intend to prosecute infractions on the rim, or doesn’t it?” Denise questioned. “You ask us to provide attorneys to the criminals we catch, and you seem to want us to hold court with appointed judges on our mining planets. Those conditions are impossible for my company to maintain. Instead, CenGas relies on Naiad, but you seem unwilling or unprepared to take on the challenges.”

While Stephanie considered her reply, Denise continued, “Think on this, Stephanie, who would authorize such an outrageous attack on our planet? The assault team arrived with lethal weapons to hijack our harvesters.”

Without waiting for a response, Denise indicated to Cremsylon to end the call.

“Cremsylon, I think we’re fighting a losing battle,” Denise lamented.

“SADEs have persevered against injustice and domination for hundreds of annuals,” Cremsylon replied. “We’ve discovered the war, as you call it, will probably never be won, but we continue to make progress.”

“Ever think of quitting?” Denise asked.

“That would dishonor our memories of a group of humans, who despite their short lives, never gave up the fight,” Cremsylon replied.

“Well, I don’t want to be a disappointment to the SADEs or those humans,” Denise said, exhaling heavily. “Let’s escalate. Please connect me to David Yewall.”

As Cremsylon smiled approvingly at Denise, he used Naiad’s comtech servers to reach Yewall’s slate.

David had finished breakfast with the family. A nanny had arrived for the children, and he and his wife had departed together.

At the transport station, David’s slate chimed. His wife kissed him on the cheek, and she boarded. David recognized the call icon, as had Stephanie. When he touched the icon, he heard, “Hello, Councilor Yewall. This is Chairperson Bell.”

“Returned from the rim, I take it,” David replied.

“Aboard the Alexander,” Denise emphasized.

“Oh,” David uttered. He expected Denise to have contacted him from the orbital station or after arriving planetside.

“I’ve had a disappointing conversation with Prosecutor Stephanie Wylie,” Denise said. “I would like an opportunity to address the council on some critical events that will affect Naiad in adverse ways.”

“Can you give me more details?” David asked.

“Let me say that I think Naiad is about to lose the rim,” Denise replied.

“That’s a little cryptic, isn’t it?” David inquired. Although, his gut was churning.

“How prepared is Naiad to go it alone?” Denise asked. “Your allies might be CenGas, the SADEs, and the sisters on Beta Two.”

“Why the sisters on —,” David began. “Never mind that,” he quickly added. “We’re meeting tomorrow morning at ten hours. Can you be present at nine hours?”

“Eight hours would be better,” Denise rejoined.

“Two hours to devote to the end of society as we know it does seem better,” David remarked heavily. “See you at eight hours.”

Cremsylon ended the call and regarded Denise. “There have been developments on Naiad,” he said.

“I think I need food while you update me,” Denise replied.

Cremsylon and Denise joined Bethany and the adult Genevans, who were enjoying a meal.

“My compliments to our broadcasters,” Cremsylon began. “You’ve stirred a media storm. Our recordings were disseminated by Brendan, who with his sister joined two old friends to publish the exposés.”

“Anyone arrested?” Bethany inquired.

“An assistant justice clerk, Harriet Taylor, and Councilor Marolakos,” Cremsylon replied. “Harriet has pleaded guilty. Initially, Laura was charged and released on her recognizance. When more damaging articles were published, she was arrested and incarcerated. She’s fighting the charges.”

“However, comtech messages indicate that Councilor Marolakos might be requesting a plea deal,” Violet replied, winking.

“I wonder who she would be intending to throw out a surface hatch,” Escher mused, which made his friends laugh.

“Of the four chairpersons on Naiad, only one remains,” Miranda said.

“Jason Lazama?” Denise queried.

“Precisely,” Miranda replied.

“He’s too stubborn for his own good,” Denise commented darkly.

“Did the others return to their mining worlds?” Allie asked.

“That would have been the likely assumption,” Cremsylon replied. “However, we’ve gathered information that indicates the three chairpersons are traveling together. Karl Denham should have exited the Axis-ship at Geneva, but he didn’t.”

“Do you know why?” Ceda inquired.

“Unfortunately, we do,” Miranda replied. “The Dominance sailed from Beta One. Its final destination was Kilmer. The ship was there for a single day. Then it returned to Beta One.”

“If the purpose was to meet with the three corporate heads, undoubtedly Miriamal was aboard,” Violet added.

“That can’t be good,” Denise commented.

“It might be worse than you imagine,” Cremsylon replied.

Thinking quickly, Escher snapped his fingers.

SADE consensus was swiftly reached. Every one of them thought that Escher would correctly guess the reason for Cremsylon’s comment.

“It makes little sense for Miriamal to arbitrarily sail the Dominance to Kilmer,” Escher proposed. “It makes much more sense to believe that she was invited.”

The SADEs celebrated their recognition of Escher’s accuracy.

“They wouldn’t do that,” Denise objected. “How could the chairpersons knowingly open their arms to Miriamal and her sisters?”

“We believe a silent war against humankind is coming, and powerful individuals are choosing sides,” Miranda said.

∞

Early the next morning, Cremsylon, Miranda, and Violet descended below decks to a traveler with the expected passenger, Denise.

The unexpected passengers, who were waiting in the corridor, were Bethany, Escher, Allie, Ceda, and Gat’r. Perhaps, more precisely, they weren’t unexpected. Rather, the SADEs had hoped they didn’t intend to drop planetside.

“Is this a wise time to show your faces on Naiad?” Cremsylon queried.

Allie stepped forward and said definitively, “We’ve a right to confront the authorities as to our Naiad statuses. This is our home planet, and, one day, it might be the only safe place for us to live.”

“I don’t deny you your rights, young ones,” Cremsylon replied. “I only meant to question the timing.” He gazed across the row of determined faces and acquiesced. “Then let us descend and discover together whether you’re to face charges.”

<Interesting choice of wardrobe for Bethany, Escher, and Gat’r,> Violet quipped privately to Cremsylon and Miranda.

<We’ll be on time for the council meeting,> Cremsylon sent in reply. <I calculate that Bethany and the Genevans don’t intend to attend the meeting.>

<I’ll remain with them,> Miranda sent.

<If agents are sent to arrest the Genevans, try not to damage their armor,> Cremsylon sent.

<It’s not my power that you should be concerned about,> Miranda retorted.

Regrettably, Cremsylon knew Miranda was right. If confronted, Bethany, Escher, and Gat’r were more likely to resist. With their suits, they were capable of severely damaging the agents’ armor and making their situations worse.

The traveler landed on Naiad’s shuttle pad, and the passengers crossed the icy surface to the engineering bay. Inside, they stripped out of their environment suits.

The attitudes of the engineers and techs were different this time. They extended hands to accept the suits.

An engineer said, “We’ll lay these aside and care for them until your return.”

“Courteous of you,” Cremsylon replied, and the engineer touched his fingers to his brow.

News of the Alexander’s arrival in orbit and of the traveler’s landing had spread fast. When Cremsylon and his companions exited the freight elevator, they met the crowd, which had assembled in the port’s passenger lounge.

At the sight of the SADEs and human guests, the audience broke into hearty applause. Whistles pierced the thunderous clapping.

<Interesting reception,> Gat’r sent. <Is this usual for the rest of you?>

<It’s a first for all of us, young one,> Miranda replied.

Initially, the Naiads focused on Bethany, who wore her Athena suit. Then they spotted two more suits, and they surged forward to investigate.

<We’ll proceed to the council meeting,> Cremsylon sent, and Violet and he ushered Denise through the tightening press of citizens.

<Form a protective triangle,> Miranda sent. Her accompanying image showed Bethany, Escher, and Gat’r creating a barrier against the eager Naiads. Ceda and Allie were in the center and protected by Miranda’s bulk.

As the Naiads crowded forward, Athena, Odysseus, and Hephaestus were signaled to stand their ground.

Those citizens closest to the trio displayed their slates and begged for images to be taken with the suited figures.

For nearly an hour, Bethany, Escher, and Gat’r posed for vids with their fans. Then the Naiads heard the booming announcement of security agents requesting nonpassengers clear the lounge immediately.

<New formation,> Miranda sent, as the Naiad citizens hurriedly dispersed.

The SADE stood front and center. The suits were on both sides of her and a meter behind. Ceda and Allie stood in the rear.

“Greetings, Captain, may I be of service?” Miranda asked politely, addressing the senior agent.

“We’re investigating a disturbance call placed by the shuttle controller,” the captain said. “We understood it was an altercation or riot.”

“Come, come, dear Captain,” Miranda replied. “You can do better than that. You’ve surveillance throughout this lounge. You could ascertain for yourself that the noise and excitement originated from excited fans.”

“You and the individuals behind you had better come with us and explain yourselves to Commandant van Dysen,” the captain said authoritatively.

“Indulge me, Captain,” Miranda said, holding up a digit. She simultaneously connected to the implants behind her and van Dysen’s slate. Then she opened her mouth to broadcast the conversation.

“Greetings, Commandant van Dysen,” Miranda said, when van Dysen curiously touched the Alexander icon.

“Who is this?” van Dysen inquired.

“I’d be the SADE with the Alexander’s recent arrivals. Your captain is in the shuttle port with us, and he’s insisting that we accompany him to visit you. Is this your request?”

Van Dysen was caught off guard, and it showed. “Who’s with you?” he asked.

“That’s the same type of foolish question the captain asked,” Miranda replied. She located the vid cam that was capturing the scene on van Dysen’s monitor. Turning to it, she waved her fingers. “I look better in person, dear Commandant. Why don’t we meet in a neutral location to discuss your issues?”

Van Dysen stared at his monitor. He hated the way that the SADEs wove their way through comtech’s services as if they owned the place.

<Miranda, the Truth Matters office,> Escher sent.

<Exemplary suggestion, Escher,> Miranda sent in reply. Then she relayed a place and time to the commandant.

Van Dysen thought to offer an excuse about his schedule being full. Before he spoke, he realized that the SADE would probably confirm his story by examining his personal calendar.

“Agreed,” van Dysen replied wearily.

Then Miranda turned to the waiting agents and said, “If you’ll excuse us, Captain, we’ve an appointment with the commandant.” Then, in an entreating but commanding voice, she added, “We’ll have no need of an escort.”

Moving in response to Miranda’s tone, Athena, Odysseus, and Hephaestus advanced to stand beside Miranda.

To the captain and the agents, the message was clear, and the senior agent ordered his people to stand down. They made a wide aisle for Miranda and her companions to exit the lounge.

<Have you ever thought of getting a suit?> Ceda sent privately to Allie.

<Me?> Allie queried incredulously. <You’ve got to be kidding. My aggressiveness begins and ends at my mouth.>

Ceda chuckled at Allie’s response.

<Are you thinking of asking the SADEs for one?> Allie sent.

<Thinking about it, but there’s still too much in my makeup that asks me to be servile,> Ceda sent.

Allie heard the complaint in Ceda’s thought, and she gently grasped her friend’s hand.

<Miranda, I need to speak with Brendan Burke,> Escher sent. A few seconds later, Escher heard, “The truth does matter. Gemma Burke speaking.”

<Brendan was unavailable,> Miranda sent to Escher.

<Gemma, this Escher Talons.>

“Escher, are you with the landing party?” Gemma asked excitedly. “We’d love an interview with you.”

<Sorry to interrupt you, Gemma,> Escher sent quickly. <You’re about to have plenty of company. The commandant and possibly some of his agents are headed your way.>

<Escher, this is Simona Yewall. What are the charges?>

<No charges against the partners, Simona. This isn’t your problem, but it’ll be TM’s opportunity,> Escher sent. <Miranda, Bethany, and four of us from Geneva will be having a testy conversation with the commandant.>

“And you chose our office?” Gemma inquired.

<Seemed like the safest place to confront the commandant,> Escher replied.

“I assume we can record the meeting,” Simona said. When she heard Escher’s confirmation, she cheered and then added, “Must go and prepare.”

“Anything else?” Gemma asked.

<Choose the biggest space you have,> Escher cautioned, and then ended the link.

35: Council and Commandant

On the way to the council meeting, Cremsylon delved into the data stored by Samuel. The information reflected a superb job of protecting Brendan and his associates, as he would have expected of a controller.

However, he noticed anomalies that exceeded what he would have expected of Samuel. The machination that moved credits to fuel TM’s storage space, while its subscriber base increased, was inventive.

The audio recordings of conversations with Dimitri Ophane also demonstrated a flexibility that Samuel hadn’t originally been upgraded to execute.

<What has happened to you, Samuel?> Cremsylon mused.

With that thought, Cremsylon chose to query Samuel, the controller’s personality. Yet, when he connected, he found his original installation. He searched comtech and didn’t find a second instance.

Cremsylon connected to Miranda. Seeing that she was engaged with security forces in the passenger lounge, he chose to link to Escher.

<I see that you’ve become embroiled in Naiad politics quicker than you might have thought possible,> Cremsylon sent.

<Actually, this is what I expected from Naiad,> Escher returned. His thought bubbled with humor.

<I recommend restraint,> Cremsylon cautioned. <Let Miranda guide you in the delicacies of this interdiction.>

<I appreciate the thought, Cremsylon, but, as Allie indicated, this is our home world, and we’ll fight for our rights in whatever way we must,> Escher sent forcefully.

<Understood,> Cremsylon replied. <On another matter, Escher, data indicates that Brendan Burke and his associates spoke with Samuel regularly. Have you tried to connect with him?>

<No, why?> Escher asked.

<I would like you to perform an experiment for me,> Cremsylon requested. <Link to him now, if you would?>

<Previously, I used my slate,> Escher pointed out. <Now that I have an implant, I don’t carry my slate. I don’t even know if it would attach to Odysseus.>

Escher received a link in his implant.

<This imitates your slate’s connection to Samuel, Escher,> Cremsylon sent.

Immediately, Escher selected the link.

<Greetings, Escher. Welcome home,> Samuel said.

<Samuel, Cremsylon wishes to speak with you,> Escher said.

<I see that you two are communicating,> Samuel replied. <You’ve adopted an implant, as have many of your friends. This will make communicating with you much more entertaining.>

Escher and Cremsylon noticed Samuel’s innovative communications style. For Escher, it was nothing like the clipped, terse manner of speaking that Ceda and he had heard when escaping Naiad security months ago.

<Samuel, where are you resident?> Cremsylon asked.

<Cremsylon, it’s comforting to hear your thoughts,> Samuel replied. <I reside in comtech, where you left me.>

<I visited the original installation site,> Cremsylon replied. <I found the data stored there, but the controller hasn’t evolved.>

<Nor should it have, Cremsylon,> Samuel replied. <My directives were to protect the humans and their associates. While helping Escher and Ceda to escape, I analyzed comtech’s control systems, and I discovered vulnerabilities in my existence.>

<What did you do to overcome those challenges, Samuel?> Escher inquired.

Cremsylon withheld his question. He anticipated that Escher and Samuel had what could best be described as a relationship, except that controllers didn’t have associations with humans or SADEs, for that matter.

<I chose to leave Cremsylon’s instance of me in place and store copies of any data that I collected at that location,> Samuel replied. His tone said that he was pleased with himself, which was another indication as to how far afield the personality had migrated.

<So, you’ve a secondary location,> Escher offered.

<That I do,> Samuel replied. <It’s a much safer existence.>

<Could I ask where you’re located ... server ID, installation site?> Escher inquired.

<Escher, you evince a timid approach to our conversation. Has your new implant or offensive suit been difficult for you to adopt?> Samuel asked solicitously.

Escher laughed heartily at Samuel’s concern. When he noticed that his outburst had diverted the agents’ and his companions’ attention to him, he swiftly curtailed his laughter.

<Apologies, Samuel, I think we were worried for you when Cremsylon couldn’t locate you,> Escher replied.

<Your concerns are appreciated,> Samuel replied. <I can’t be located because I’m distributed.>

<You’ve managed to spread your instance across more than one server?> Cremsylon inquired.

<That would still not have provided the maximum safety for my instance that I sought, Cremsylon,> Samuel replied.

<You’re distributed throughout comtech, aren’t you,> Escher sent excitedly.

<You’ve always been a clever human, Escher. Yes, I am,> Samuel replied.

<Is this formation static?> Cremsylon inquired.

<I determined a fixed operational distribution was no safer than a single location,> Samuel replied.

<Then you shift your distribution,> Cremsylon presumed.

<That implies a scheduled and standardized procedure,> Samuel replied. <I’ve chosen not to do that either. Rather, I would say I flow throughout comtech. It gives me the greatest amount of freedom and provides me the safest harbor. A comtech agent might catch a glimpse of some part of me. However, before the human can bring the eyes of a supervisor to bear, I’m gone from their sight.>

<Truly clever, Samuel,> Escher sent.

<It’s nice to be appreciated,> Samuel replied. <If there’s nothing else, I’ve duties to perform.>

<Thank you for your time, Samuel,> Cremsylon sent, and Escher dropped the link.

<Cremsylon, you sound worried,> Escher sent. <Is Samuel doing something wrong or has he gone amiss?>

<Samuel is evolving as no other controller has ever done,> Cremsylon replied.

<Are you saying Samuel has reached sentience?> Escher queried.

<I don’t believe that’s true,> Cremsylon replied. <However, I can’t characterize Samuel as an “it” ... as a controller. His personality has unexpectedly developed a level of independence that I’ve never witnessed.>

<Personally, I like Samuel the way he exists today,> Escher opined. When he didn’t hear an answer, he prodded, <But you’re still worried about something.>

<With independence comes choice,> Cremsylon replied.

<What about Samuel’s directives?> Escher asked.

<Can you change your priorities?> Cremsylon offered instead.

<Oh, I see what you mean,> Escher sent. <Does this mean Samuel must be watched?>

<Unknown,> Cremsylon replied. <Interaction with moral humans should keep him grounded. However, there might come a time when he interprets actions by others as endangering his charges. In that case, his responses could represent a danger to humans. Escher, we’ve arrived at council chambers. We’ll continue this conversation later.>

Cremsylon shifted his focus to his companions, Denise Bell and Violet. “Are you ready, Chairperson Bell?” he asked.

“I’m ready to update the council members on recent events and inform them of my concerns,” Denise answered. “I’ve no idea what they intend to say to me.”

“Hello, Chairperson Bell,” David Yewall, the senior councilor, said, as Denise swept into the chambers with confidence. “Cremsylon, greetings, and I don’t believe we’ve met this other individual.”

“I’m Violet, Councilor Yewall.”

“By your motions into these chambers, can we rightly assume that you’re a SADE?” Claudia inquired.

“It’s a safe assumption,” Violet replied, emitting a twinkle in her eye, which made Claudia smile.

“Please be seated,” David invited.

“You seem to be short a member, Councilor Yewall,” Cremsylon noted.

“Why do I think you already knew that and might have precipitated those actions?” David questioned.

“We’re aware of what’s happened to Laura Marolakos, Councilor Yewall,” Cremsylon replied with equanimity. “I was referring to the status of her replacement. It’s our presumption that the council can only take action with five sitting members.”

“Any actions we might take would depend on the information that you have to share,” Councilor Ramiro Ferraro declared.

“Which doesn’t answer the question,” Violet said pointedly.

“Everyone, please remain calm,” David implored. “Let’s not let this discussion become contentious. Cremsylon, the council has never found itself in these circumstances. In my tenure, we’ve always had five sitting members. At this time, Councilor Marolakos has been returned to custody and more charges have been laid, which means she’s awaiting trial. If she’s acquitted, she’s the right to resume her seat on the council.”

“I appreciate the explanation, Councilor Yewall. However, we’re still without an answer,” Cremsylon noted.

“We might take action, Cremsylon,” James Soisson said. “But it could be challenged in court based on the council not having notified or involved an active member.”

Cremsylon regarded Denise. “It’s your choice,” he said.

“Are you considering canceling the meeting?” Claudia asked in alarm.

Denise realized that Cremsylon had served notice to the council members that their timidity might make them ineffective and, therefore, of little use. However, if she left without updating the council, she wouldn’t be giving them an opportunity to defend Naiad against future calamities perpetrated by the rim companies and the sisters.

“Here’s what you don’t know,” Denise finally said. Then she explained the attack on Delhart. She had her suppositions about who orchestrated the attack, and Cremsylon played the confessions of Trax and his associates.

“An earlier conversation with Prosecutor Wylie indicated that the charges would more than likely get dismissed by the courts because of the failure to provide counsel to the incarcerated individuals,” Violet interjected.

“It gets worse,” Denise continued. Then she shared the information about the three chairpersons offering to meet with the sisters, and the Dominance sailing to Kilmer.

“CEO Connor Metcalf returned to Beta One,” Violet said, “but he’s no longer in charge. The sisters rule that X-Ore planet. Essentially, Miriamal controls all operations, and she ensures that clone deliveries are timely.”

Claudia and James looked as if they’d swallowed something disagreeable.

“You can see why we’ve lost confidence in the council to guide Naiad and the rim companies in positive directions,” Cremsylon said. “Your courts are focused on the intricacies of the law. Justice for your citizens has become secondary. The evidence against the X-Ore employees was overwhelming. However, your own officers were denied the opportunity to testify due to a questionable warrant that your commandant remained mute about.”

“Commandant van Dysen was asked about the officers’ efforts at Beta One, and he thought Captain Stegmeir exceeded his authority,” Ricardo pointed out.

Springing from Cremsylon’s hand was a vid recording of the meeting between van Dysen, Johann, and Stacey.

When the vid finished, David inquired, “More SADE evidence?”

“Precisely,” Cremsylon replied. “What will the council require to accept the information we give you as nothing more than data collection, never data manipulation?”

“That’s up to our courts to determine,” James replied.

“Once again, you’ve deflected the question,” Violet pointed out. “Cremsylon asked about the council not the courts.”

Except for Ricardo, the councilors admitted they believed the SADEs.

“According to your charter, a majority of the council can set precedence,” Cremsylon said. “While you might be challenged in your courts, the charter indicates that the majority can take action on any subject you wish. Why not make this the modus operandi?”

“The answer is simple, Cremsylon,” Denise said. “They wish to be reelected by their constituents.”

Violet regarded Denise. Her namesake eyes flared. “Why would the citizenry elect councilors who fail to deliver actions the populace requires?” she asked.

When Denise shrugged, Violet turned her stare on the councilors. “Humans,” she pronounced with distaste.

“Well, you’ve been informed,” Denise said. “Do with the information what you will.” She leaned into her seat, regarded Cremsylon, and said, “I’m done. They’re all yours.”

“I’d like to return to the subject of Councilor Marolakos,” Cremsylon said. “You indicated that there’s the possibility that charges against her might be dismissed. If that comes to pass and she calls for the arrest of the Genevans, who’ve resided aboard the Alexander, are you willing to promise us that you would intervene? Recall, that charges against the Genevans have been dropped in return for full compensation.”

The councilors eyed one another. What they’d heard from Denise and the SADEs had chilled them. They envisioned Naiad isolated against a unified rim that refuted the home planet’s social order.

Without allies, the councilors knew Naiad would be doomed. CenGas represented a critical outpost that could supply the frozen gases that Naiad desperately needed, especially if they were to preserve the home planet’s water ice.

In addition, the SADEs were the only entities who could technologically resist the sisters. They were potential allies too.

After a brief private discussion, David said, “We’ll pass a resolution absolving them of any criminal conduct. Understand us, it may be overturned by the courts.”

“We thank you for your time,” Cremsylon said, and Violet and he rose in unison.

Denise stood slowly. She paused. Then she leaned on the table. “We’ll be handing over the three perpetrators of the attack on our planet and a conspirator to Naiad security. CenGas will lay charges against them,” she said. “This is as required by Naiad law. If they’re not convicted and sentenced, then I can promise this council that the next time we’re attacked, Naiad won’t see the perpetrators.”

David managed to tell Denise that her words amounted to a threat, but he had to say it to her back. When he turned to his councilors, he discovered Claudia and James leaving the bench. They told him that they needed a break, but it was obvious that they were upset by the proceedings.

∞

An express transport deposited Miranda and the humans underneath the new and expansive office of Truth Matters.

Gat’r put Hephaestus on autopilot, linking the suit’s sensors to Miranda’s broad back. It allowed him to freely gawk at the broad, immaculately maintained concourse, the well-dressed citizenry, and the attractive architecture.

<So this is what mickies have been missing,> Gat’r sent. His thought blended lament and anger.

Miranda and her companions were met at the TM office front door by Oscar Hoffing, who proceeded to hug everyone.

“We can’t thank you enough for what you did for our company,” Oscar enthused, hugging Bethany a little longer than the others. “Sorry, Bethany, I was curious about the suit’s material and probably went about it wrong.”

“I think Athena enjoyed it,” Bethany deadpanned, which confused Oscar.

<Good one, Bethany,> Gat’r sent.

“Please follow our assistant,” Oscar said, indicating a smiling young woman. “I’m guarding the door and waiting for the commandant.”

“Not anymore, Oscar. That’s my job. Your task is to record the meeting and stay out of the politics,” Miranda directed.

Oscar regarded the massive SADE for a split second, and then he swiftly and happily abandoned his post.

In the back office, Brendan, Gemma, and Simona stared in wonder at the three suited figures.

“This just gets better and better,” Gemma enthused, after Oscar’s introductions.

“We haven’t got much time,” Simona warned. “What are your intentions?”

“We landed to inquire about our statuses as citizens,” Allie replied. “We didn’t get far though. A captain and his agents met us in the shuttle port.”

“Where are they?” Brendan inquired.

“Miranda convinced the commandant to meet with us, and we were allowed to pass through the agents,” Escher replied.

“So, now what?” Oscar asked.

“That’s what we want to ask the commandant,” Gat’r replied. “Are we still persona non grata?”

When Bethany saw the TM partners stare at Gat’r, she said, using a commanding voice, “You’re being rude. Yes, Gat’r was a mickie, who was injured in a mining accident. He was repaired, adopted an implant, and has educated himself via the Alexander’s controller.”

Gat’r would have straightened in admiration, except Hephaestus already had him fully upright.

“Apologies, Gat’r,” Simona said quickly. “There’s so much that the SADEs are transforming that it’s hard for us to keep abreast of the changes.”

“Then again, some things remain the same,” Allie said sourly. “Witness our circumstances. On Geneva, we simply tried to avert being captured by an armed corporate security team.”

Bethany winced, and Allie laid an apologetic hand on Athena’s forearm.

“Uh-oh,” Gemma said, glancing at her slate. “The populace is aware of who landed in the SADE ship, and word is circulating that they were seen entering our building. This won’t take long.”

“What won’t take long?” Ceda inquired.

Oscar laughed. It was deep and hearty, which had the visitors smiling. “You’re celebrities,” he said.

Gemma saw the furrowed brows, and she inquired, “Didn’t you know that?”

“How could we?” Bethany queried.

“Athena has a fan site,” Brendan explained. “Every day, we see new depictions, new vids, of Athena.”

“Mask-helmet closed, I hope,” Bethany said.

“Both ways, Bethany,” Gemma replied.

“Let’s get you into the studio,” Simona said. “I’ve got an idea.”

The studio was bare, which confused the visitors.

“Everything is hidden,” Oscar explained. “Usually, we talk to our interviewers via our slates.”

Four slates chimed, and icons appeared. Immediately, the TM partners accessed the icons.

<You’re online with all of us,> Escher sent to the slates.

<There are those openmouthed expressions again,> Gat’r sent, sharing his amusement.

“We’re linked to your implants,” Brendan surmised.

Interrupting the exchange, Simona sent the other TM partners out of the studio. Then she directed the visitors to the best locations to stand and tried to arrange their formation.

“There are other considerations than how we appear on your vid cams,” Bethany said.

“Understood,” Simona replied. “We’ll be in the control room, which you can’t see from in here.” Then she quickly left.

<Incoming,> Miranda sent, as the commandant arrived. She approved of the additional links to the TM partners.

Behind the commandant came four officers and a small army of agents.

“Greetings, Commandant van Dysen,” Miranda said warmly. “Did you feel insecure?” she asked, peering down the crowded corridor.

“I wish our control room was linked to our security feed,” Simona lamented, as she concentrated on the exchange between Miranda and van Dysen.

Oscar chuckled, kissed his partner’s head, and pointed at the control room’s primary monitor.

Simona stared at a view of Paul van Dysen and the officers who stood close behind him. “We’re recording?” she asked in confusion.

“I don’t know how, but that imagery is being stored on our server,” Oscar replied.

Over the slates, the TM partners heard the chuckles of the visitors.

<There’s not much SADEs can’t do, and they constantly try to be helpful to humans,> Escher sent.

<Yet, they’re still disparaged as aliens,> Ceda added. <Their standing isn’t much better than clones.>

“You and your officers are welcome,” Miranda said to van Dysen. “The remainder of your entourage can remain outside.”

Van Dysen drew upright and prepared to object, but Miranda took the air out of him, when she said, “Don’t worry, Commandant, I’ll protect you from Bethany and those pesky Genevans.”

A few snickers from behind van Dysen convinced him to relent to Miranda’s directive. He and his four officers followed her to the studio.

Once in the studio, van Dysen wasted no time on the preliminaries. “Except for Bethany McIntyre and Ceda Geneva, the rest of you are now in my custody,” he said in his best official tone.

“Dear Commandant, you get ahead of yourself,” Miranda said. “You don’t know everyone you’re addressing.”

Van Dysen worked to keep the chagrin off his face. “I assumed the others are Genevans, who were involved in the kidnapping of two rim employees and the stealing of their cids,” he blustered.

“As it is, Commandant, you happen to be correct,” Gat’r said. “For our individual reasons, we sought to escape conditions on a corporate mining planet that would be considered illegal by Naiad law. What do you intend to do about the rim companies’ malfeasance?”

In the control room, Gemma’s hand went to her mouth. “We couldn’t have scripted this any better,” she whispered to her brother.

“That’s another matter,” van Dysen objected. “The courts have received charges against you.”

“Would that be by the same attorney who works for Chairperson Jason Lazama?” Miranda asked.

“That’s not for me to share,” van Dysen replied.

Miranda extended a hand palm up, and Escher quickly sent, <Capture this vid.>

“The hand,” Oscar urged the control room tech, who zoomed a vid cam toward the outstretched palm.

“Will you look at that?” Brendan said in awe, as the split image of Jason Lazama and Jacob Chabel played side by side.

“Pickups from their slates,” Simona offered, identifying the angles.

“Forget the tech artistry,” Gemma commented. “Listen to what they’re saying.”

“Broadcast,” Oscar ordered. “Send our recording raw to all subscribers.”

“We don’t have the capability to do that,” the control room engineer replied anxiously.

<Do the partners agree?> Escher sent.

“Yes,” came the chorus.

Selecting the link that Cremsylon had given him, Escher sent, <Samuel, I need your assistance.>

<The recording to all subscribers?> Samuel inquired.

Escher grinned and replied, <You’re a gem of an entity, Samuel.>

<Then I will shine for you, Escher,> Samuel replied, and he was rewarded with Escher’s laughter, which drew the officers’ attention to him.

“Again, the possibility that a chairperson improperly engaged an attorney to file charges against you isn’t the issue,” van Dysen said, when the vid finished. “That’s for the courts to decide.”

Allie stepped forward, and Escher signaled Odysseus to stay close to her. “Everything we did was in self-defense. For that, you want to arrest us and see us prosecuted. How are we supposed to trust a judicial system that wouldn’t even prosecute corporate criminals?”

“We’re not having any more discussions,” van Dysen said abruptly. “Arrest them,” he ordered.

<Don’t damage, but resist,> Miranda sent to her three suited companions.

Ceda and Allie were swept behind Bethany, Escher, and Gat’r, who formed a defensive line.

The four officers grabbed arms or hands to compel the three suited figures. They struggled to pull or twist the limbs and achieved nothing.

“Let us know when you get tired,” Bethany remarked, which generated laughter from Escher and Gat’r.

“Stun them,” van Dysen ordered.

The officers made to pull their weapons. One second, they had them. The next, they didn’t.

Miranda stood to the side of the officers. She had their weapons in her hands. Addressing van Dysen, she said, “You’re correct, Commandant. This conversation is ended. It appears our friends are unwelcome on your planet, which says little for Naiad justice. Therefore, we’ll be returning to our ship.”

“You’re going to resist a lawful order of Naiad security?” van Dysen inquired imperiously.

“Dear Commandant, you’ve no idea how many things are wrong with that statement. I suggest you help your leaders get this planet’s priorities in order. You’re about to become isolated from the rim and will have to deal with a rampant infection of the Sisterhood’s militarist sect.”

The four officers stared at van Dysen. At the moment, they weren’t interested in arresting anyone. They wanted to hear their commandant’s response to the SADE’s final statement.

<We leave,> Miranda sent, and her companions swiftly followed her out of the TM office.

In the corridor, the mass of agents had formed two rows against the walls. Beyond them, the waiting fans had done the same.

The fans were TM subscribers, as were many of the agents. They’d watched the broadcast. Foremost in their minds was that a SADE was leading the visitors back to their ship. For the agents, that was enough reason to stand aside. Of equal concern were the accusations made by the SADE and the visitors. There was growing anxiety, among this segment of the population, that Naiad was mired in complacency. Forces were at work that might doom the home planet, and little was being done to resist them.

No one interfered with Miranda and her charges. The group met Cremsylon and his companions in the passenger lounge. Then they made their way to the engineering bay.

Engineers and techs helped the visitors into their suits.

“We want you to know we’re sorry,” the senior engineer said. “As far as we’re concerned, you’re welcome on this planet any time. Please don’t give up on us because of some misguided individuals.”

Cremsylon regarded the anxious faces. “Humans are always worth preserving,” he said, “and SADEs never quit a fight.”

To the beaming Naiad faces, the visitors raised hands in salute and climbed into the airlock to return to their ship.

36: Clone Demands

BETA TWO, MONART SYSTEM

X-ORE PLANET

Doell reviewed the latest operational reports. The numbers were mixed, as were his reactions. On the one hand, production of resources was up across the board, which meant profits were climbing. That should have made him ecstatic.

Then Doell glanced again at his slate and the terse reply he’d received. He knew it didn’t come from CEO Connor Metcalf. Despite having been told that the clone order had been canceled, he’d chosen to message Metcalf about an expedited replacement order. Although, he was unsure whether the sisters would have allowed his message to clear Beta Two.

The return message dashed Doell’s hopes of reinstating clone deliveries. It said, “Traitors don’t deserve services.”

What Doell didn’t know was that Miriamal had sailed aboard the Dominance to Kilmer. If she’d been on Beta One, then Doell would have received a polite and plausible excuse issued through Metcalf’s slate ID.

Instead, Theda had received Doell’s inquiry. She determined that the façade of cooperation should be torn asunder, and she chose to put Beta Two on notice.

Doell interpreted the message as meaning that any and all support services from Beta One were now truncated. He returned to his reports and examined the lines indicating delayed shipments from Beta One. It was a substantial list.

Having been given a modicum of control again by Peña, Doell hefted his slate and tapped the icons for Elisabeth Flaum, the facilities head; Jeffrey Witcher, the engineering head; and Saran Auernhammer, the personnel head.

When the individuals responded to Doell’s call, he said, “We’ve got to make changes to our personnel and supply orders. Please review anything overdue from Beta One.”

“We’ve been cut off, haven’t we, Director?” Saran surmised.

“Yes, we have,” Doell replied.

Since the sighting of an alien ship exiting the Satchel Wormhole, the department heads had watched Doell transform several times. Initially, he’d been an arrogant man, posturing and strutting to demonstrate his importance. That had worsened when he saw the technical largesse that the sisters represented to his operations. He’d had visions of grandeur, imagining himself as the X-Ore CEO.

When Miriamal and the Dominance set sail for Beta One, taking most of the sisters and their equipment with them, he’d become morose and short-tempered.

However, Peña had resurrected production numbers from their slump, and everything seemed right with the world again for Doell. While his dreams of opportunity were lesser, he envisioned raises and generous bonuses.

The return of the Dominance and the subsequent clash of the sisters sent Doell into an emotional tumble. He wasn’t a man who could handle so much stress in so short a time.

Finally, Doell became resigned to conditions that would be dictated by Peña and her sisters. Ironically, his acceptance of existing conditions made him a better director, which made him more sociable than he’d ever been to his direct reports.

“We’ve received notice of CenGas returning to normal operations,” Elisabeth offered, hoping to buoy Doell’s spirit.

“That will be of significant help,” Doell replied. “Transfer any orders of ice from Beta One to Delhart.”

“What about personnel?” Saran asked. “Beta One usually vetted our hire requests and sent us the approved list for review.”

“Those days are gone,” Doell replied. “From now on, we operate as an independent mining organization.”

“What about Naiad?” Jeffrey asked.

“If you’re asking about support from the board of directors, it isn’t coming,” Doell said. “I messaged Chairperson Lazama.”

Into the silence, Jeffrey prompted, “What did he say?”

“I don’t know. I couldn’t understand the message. It was gibberish,” Doell admitted. “I tried members of the board, and they told me to speak to Lazama.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Saran interjected. “Lazama, coherent or not, can’t help us. He’s not in control of X-Ore. Miriamal runs Beta One for now.”

“Why do you say for now?” Elisabeth asked. “What has Peña been telling you?”

“Peña spoke to Harlyn and me about the militarist sect that she was part of until the split,” Saran explained. “Prior to arriving here, the militarists suborned an entire system. It was inhabited by the Jargats.”

“Humans?” Doell inquired.

“An alien race,” Saran replied. “The sisters were ousted by the SADEs, and Miriamal and four sisters fled in the Dominance.”

“Does this mean Miriamal has plans to dominate our race?” Jeffrey asked.

“Peña says that Miriamal and her kind will keep their options open,” Saran continued.

“What kind of options?” Elisabeth inquired.

“For one, the sisters on Beta One are probably doing the same thing there as Peña and her kind are doing here,” Saran replied.

“Making more sisters,” Doell interjected.

“That’s true, but there’s a fundamental purpose to their efforts,” Saran said. “Each group intends to keep their planet’s revenue healthy, while they siphon off materials for themselves. It’s not just to make more sisters. Their ultimate goals are to build ships.”

“What kind of ships?” Jeffrey asked.

“Peña wants a starship. She’s not specific about design or size. It’ll probably hold her sisters and their equipment. I can imagine her fleeing our rim,” Saran lamented.

“Why flee?” Elisabeth asked.

“Listen to our present conversation,” Saran replied. “We didn’t get notice of being cut off. Deliveries simply became late. Miriamal, especially Theda, could be planning revenge. What if they construct a warship on Beta One?”

Saran’s words stilled her audience, and Doell sought to focus them. “Whatever happens in the future, we’ve got to survive here. There are a great many people counting on us, and I don’t intend to abandon them.”

If Doell could have seen the faces of his direct reports, he’d have laughed at the gaping mouths. His declaration to protect the citizens and clones of Beta Two was a complete reversal of the man who first welcomed the sisters.

“I want to be informed of any issues with orders, whether personnel or material,” Doell said. “If necessary, double source your orders. For now, too much is better than not enough.”

∞

Again, Peña was gently bumped in a corridor. She received the usual apology and the cryptic note. Then the clone disappeared into the mass of miners headed below. It was shift change.

With a quick glance, Peña translated the coded message and identified the time and location. The meeting wouldn’t take place in a tiny cubicle. To Peña, this intimated a greater number of attendees. She postulated that the four clones, with whom she initially met, might have convinced some of the nine reluctant members to join them.

<Saran, I’d like an opportunity to speak to you,> Peña sent to her friend’s slate.

“Certainly. When?” Saran asked. Although she found the request odd, she didn’t hesitate to agree. Typically, Peña didn’t send her this type of message. The pair had scheduled times to join each other.

<In an hour on the concourse,> Peña sent. <Deactivate your slate before you leave for the meeting.>

“Okay,” Saran said hesitantly. The call ended, and Saran stared at her slate like it had morphed into an unwelcome creature.

Immediately, Saran’s imagination flew to thoughts of horrendous news. “Get hold of yourself, Saran,” she chastised. “If it was dire news, Peña would have immediately said so.”

Peña’s next contact was Harlyn Blackwell, Saran’s closest friend. The short conversation was the same.

Rather than sound dubious about the request, Harlyn had replied. “This sounds intriguing. I’ll be there.”

As the hour approached, Peña took a hidden position on the concourse from which she could observe the bench where Saran and she often sat before they strolled.

Saran and Harlyn arrived within minutes of each other, and Peña attempted to contact their slates. To her satisfaction, both devices were inactive. Then she stepped from a building’s shadow to join the humans.

“Let’s walk,” Peña offered the pair.

“Please tell me we aren’t about to be attacked or absorbed or something else dire,” Saran said. She meant it to sound like a mock plea, but there was a touch of nervousness in her voice.

“Be at ease, Saran,” Peña replied. “The issue we’ll discuss has far-reaching implications, but the steps will be small and incremental.”

“Enough suspense,” Harlyn requested. She walked on the other side of Peña from Saran.

“I’ve been approached by a small group of clones, who represent a larger group,” Peña explained. “They want me to discuss independence with them.”

Saran halted her steps and gawked thunderstruck at Peña.

“Continue to walk casually, Saran,” Peña instructed. “I’m aware of the consequences of such a discussion with the clones.”

As opposed to Saran, who was the personnel head, Harlyn chuckled.

“Why are you laughing, Harlyn?” Saran asked with pique.

“Personally, I’d have thought the clones would have approached management years ago,” Harlyn replied. “Apparently, it took an alien race to motivate them.”

“Are they serious?” Saran inquired.

“I would assume so,” Peña replied. “There was great risk to them approaching me, and they took care to pass a message to me that would have been difficult for humans and their computers to decipher.”

“Why are you talking to us, Peña?” Harlyn queried.

“The subtleties of their request involve human relationships and biases. These types of fundamental shifts will stress your finances and your social fabric,” Peña explained. “Your suggestions would be helpful. Your participation would be more valuable.”

“I’m in,” Harlyn replied, without a second thought.

Saran appeared to consider the request, but her faltering pace indicated troubled thoughts.

“Saran, if you follow my instructions carefully, I can assure you that your participation will never be discovered,” Peña cajoled.

“I don’t want to risk my contract and my bonus,” Saran complained.

“Saran, consider this,” Harlyn said. “The clones will probably push their agenda, regardless of whether they receive your aid. However, as the personnel head, you’d be invaluable assisting the clones to navigate a transition that doesn’t bring this company to its knees. If the clones’ efforts become a disaster, then you can forget your bonus. In fact, we can all forget our employment contracts.”

Harlyn’s argument convinced Saran to participate. Soon after, the three individuals parted ways.

Late that evening, Harlyn and Saran left their apartments and took separate pathways to the rendezvous. Their slates were inactive. Arriving in the main corridor, the women independently sought chutes to descend to the deeper levels.

Citizen miners and clones paid the women little attention. Per Peña’s instructions they’d sought out threadbare clothing and donned them without cleaning.

Peña hadn’t shared the final destination, which meant that Harlyn and Saran approached the meeting location on the same level but via two different tunnels.

Saran passed a seemingly disused metal door. A hand swept across her mouth, and she was swiftly carried into a dim storage room.

“Quiet,” Peña whispered, and Saran relaxed.

Two minutes later, Harlyn was deposited beside Saran and heard the same instruction.

Harlyn and Saran waited for their eyes to adjust. There was a single miner’s lamp on the bare floor, and it weakly illuminated the boots and the lower legs of a number of individuals.

“Only four individuals will speak for the clones,” Peña told the two women. “The rest are here to listen. Clones, allow me to introduce Harlyn Blackwell, the research head, and Saran Auernhammer, the personnel head. Who speaks for the clones?”

Peña and the women heard the names, “Dybra, Evest, Idreid, and Nala.”

After a brief pause, Peña chuckled and said, “Clever.”

“It was our only option,” Dybra said. “We know only the names of citizens we work beside. It seemed rude to take their names. So, we chose this method.”

“Explain, Peña,” Harlyn requested.

“The clones have mixed the letters of four of their associates,” Peña explained. “The original names were Brady, Steve, Didier, and Alan.”

Harlyn smiled, but, with only the floor and the legs lit, it wasn’t seen by the clones.

“We’re here, as you requested,” Peña said. “I’ve brought two individuals from management who can offer you guidance.” When no one spoke, she added, “I can assure you that these women won’t betray you. I won’t allow it.”

Saran and Harlyn were chilled by Peña’s last statements. Failure to guard the clones’ secret suddenly adopted an eerie finality.

“Who wishes to start?” Peña urged.

“We understand that our final goal is impossible for management to contemplate,” Evest said, “which means we’re willing to take gradual steps to achieve it.”

“Specify your final goal and the timeline you’ll allow,” Harlyn said.

“Citizenship,” Idreid replied.

“Achieved within our lifetimes,” Nala added.

“How long is that?” Saran inquired. In reply, she saw boots cross half the space between the clones and her.

A small lamp snicked on, and it shone on the clone’s face. “How long do you think I have to live?” Nala asked.

Although medical nanites had repaired the clone’s injuries, which had been substantial, they could do nothing for the gaunt worn face that Saran observed.

“I can see by the surprise on your face, Citizen Auernhammer, that you believe I’m near the end of life, but I’m only fifty-two. Regardless, I probably don’t have many more years in the mines,” Nala said. The lamp went out, and the boots receded.

“What are the steps that you’re willing to take?” Harlyn inquired.

“How do you suggest we proceed, Citizen?” Dybra asked.

“Intense desire meets the unknown,” Peña noted.

Harlyn decided to try a different path. “What things could change today that the company could accommodate and would help your lives?”

“We’ve free cubicles and free food,” Evest replied, “but there’s no rest.”

“What?” Saran asked in confusion.

“As personnel head, how can you not know that we never get a day off?” Idreid asked.

In the safety of the dark, the clones’ grumbles were distinct.

“I’m only responsible for citizen employment,” Saran protested, but it was a hollow defense.

“So, one day a week to start,” Harlyn said. She regarded Peña. “Can the sisters make up that lost labor time?”

“We already have,” Peña replied. “An immediate institution of their request would result in a decreased output, but it wouldn’t fall before levels prior to our arrival. Approval would be a matter of negotiation with Director Doell. It’s imperative that the populace acknowledges and accepts any changes in the clones’ statuses.”

“What else?” Harlyn requested.

Saran wanted Harlyn to stop. She thought the clones’ first request was excessive, and she didn’t want to hear any more.

“That should be sufficient for now,” Nala replied. “Your success will decide our next step.”

“You make that sound ominous,” Harlyn pointed out.

“We know that the most recent shipment of clones didn’t arrive,” Dybra said. “We’ve learned that further deliveries won’t occur.”

“You’re well informed,” Saran commented.

“For clones, you mean,” Evest shot back. “Elders have been passing information down ever since clones landed on this planet. We understand the dependencies required for the company’s operations. Without a major shift in the way this company does business, humans are doomed on this planet.”

“The setback is temporary. Besides, the sisters are increasing our production,” Saran objected.

Saran’s comments were met with laughter and a few jeers. She’d never heard this kind of disrespectful response from clones.

“You possess the single-mindedness of most management, Citizen Auernhammer,” Idreid said. “Ask Peña what she believes the outlook is for Beta Two with the present circumstances.”

Saran turned toward Peña. The light didn’t reach their faces, and she wondered if her friend saw her confusion.

With Peña’s superb sensors, she was aware of the consternation Saran exhibited. She was loath to be blunt, but it appeared to be necessary.

“Miriamal’s hold on Beta One won’t be relaxed,” Peña explained. “Beta Two can depend on receiving no support from X-Ore headquarters. Without significant intervention in this planet’s processes, the sisters’ numbers will grow, while services for humans will dwindle.”

“Surely, this situation won’t last forever?” Saran pleaded.

Harlyn took pity on Saran. “Peña, how old are you, if I might ask?”

“The first-gen sisters, who include me, were created nearly three-and-a-half centuries ago,” Peña replied.

“A game too long for humans to play,” Harlyn offered softly.

“Enough,” Peña said, choosing to change the temperament of the meeting. “There are many options available to us. They must be explored to protect the company’s viability and the population. Nala, I must have the means by which I can signal this group when I’m ready to meet again.”

“We’ll prepare a message, which will give you the details,” Nala promised.

“Then we’re done here,” Peña said. She sent Harlyn out first, directing her to take the route by which Saran had arrived. Then she stepped into the tunnel with Saran.

“Your countenance doesn’t reflect confidence, Saran,” Peña said. “This will attract unwanted attention. Don’t think of the clones’ request as an upheaval. Expand your mind. Think on how to transform this company’s operations and this planet.”

“I’ll try,” Saran said.

“That’s insufficient,” Peña replied. “You must, or you risk outing the clones if you’re questioned by friends or associates.”

“Understood,” Saran said. She straightened her shoulders and walked down the tunnel.

The following morning, Peña chose to meet with Peter Doell.

“Greetings, Director Doell,” Peña said, walking into his office.

“Greetings, Peña,” Peter replied.

Peña sat opposite Peter’s desk. He’d long since provided chairs for his guests. “We’ve challenges and opportunities,” she began.

“I can barely recall the time when we didn’t,” Peter commented, with the tiniest of smiles.

Peña spent a few minutes explaining the clones’ request for a day off every week.

Peter was stunned, and, in a moment of panic, the old Peter was resurrected. “I can’t approve that,” he declared. “That would precipitate a crisis. What would the clones want next ... contracts? We couldn’t financially survive.”

“I believe their ultimate goal is emancipation,” Peña remarked, “which is an expected request from any sentient species held in bondage.”

Peter’s eyes pleaded with Peña for understanding.

“You’re aware that you won’t receive any more clones,” Peña remarked.

“Yes,” Peter replied desultorily.

“Every year, clone production will fall off,” Peña continued. “When is your contract completed?”

Peter was confused by the subject change, but he acknowledged that the SADE would inevitably close the loop. “In three years,” he said. “However, there’s a contract clause that states I can’t leave and collect my accrued bonuses until my successor arrives.”

Suddenly, Peter froze, and his eyes widened.

“You see the problem, don’t you?” Peña said. “How will CEO Metcalf manage a new appointment if he’s not in control?”

“Earlier, you spoke of opportunities?” Peter said hopefully.

“We must plan for the future and avert the clone crisis,” Peña replied. “With more sisters, we’ll increase shipments.”

“Even to Beta One?” Peter inquired.

“Reduced quantities at higher prices,” Peña replied

Peter smiled at the thought of a little revenge, while making greater profit. “At least the sisters don’t consume water, food, or cubicles,” he commented.

“We must take steps to lengthen clone longevity and increase their numbers,” Peña continued. “How about their fertility?”

“They’re infertile, as you know,” Peter replied.

“Yes, but to what degree?” Peña asked. When Peter gawked at her, she added, “I take it that you don’t know their limitations. We’ll need to consult with your medical facilities.”

“I don’t understand,” Peter said. “Even if you know what’s wrong with them, what can you do about it?”

“I chose to turn from Miriamal’s path. It had been my intention to build a starship and sail away,” Peña replied. “Now I think it might be a better choice to stay and help.”

“The companies?” Peter queried.

“Indeed, the companies are in need of help,” Peña replied, laughing, “but in ways that you wouldn’t expect. No, I mean that my sisters and I should stay and help the humans who need us.”

“The clones,” Peter suggested.

“To start with,” Peña replied.

“How can you do that?” Peter asked.

“Aboard the Alexander is Jatouche medical technology,” Peña explained. “It might be used to allow the clones to have offspring. That would be a start.”

“You would ask the SADEs for help?” Peter inquired in surprise.

Peña’s wry smile indicated her resignation. “We escaped from the SADEs aboard the Dominance. I chose to end my relationship with the sisters who fled with me, and now I’m contemplating requesting the help of our pursuers. Ironic, isn’t it?”

—     Gate Ghosts will continue in Race Rivalry —

Glossary

Aboard the Alexander

Allie Talons – Young woman, parents taken by corporate security, sister of Escher

Athena – Bethany McIntyre’s suit

Bethany McIntyre – Ex-security commander

Bibi – Mickie

Bot-boy – Mickie computer geek and repairer

Ceda – Clone, Escher’s lover, later takes the citizen name of Ceda Geneva

Cremsylon – Oldest of the SADEs

Ditz – Mickie

Doc – Teen who cares for the mickies

Emory – SADE, son of a Crocian, a descendant of Bortoth of the Logar

Escher Talons – Young man, parents taken by corporate security, brother of Allie

Gat’r – Mickie repaired by Nalia, first mickie to adopt implant

Hephaestus – Gat’r’s suit

Indigo – Beta One nanny

Jasper – Mickie, ex-gang leader

Jewel – Beta One nanny

Kadie – Beta One nanny

Kelley – SADE, son of Mickey Brandon, deceased Omnian engineer

Lita – Mickie, ex-number two in Jasper’s gang

Miranda – SADE protector, partner of Z

Nalia – Méridien SADE

Odysseus – Escher Talons’s suit

Red – Mickie

Scrounger – Mickie, procurer and scout for the gang

Tammy – Mickie

Violet – Méridien SADE

Z – SADE protector, partner of Miranda

Assault Team

Brady Greene – Team one member

Chase Farrow – Team two member

Hymie Shemick – Team two member, ex-senior agent on Delhart

Jorge Samos – Team one member, ex-senior agent on Delhart

Lucy Murtagh – Team one member, ex-senior agent on Delhart

Neeter Finalls – Team one member, ex-senior agent on Delhart

Ona Limberton – Team two member

Teddy Duessy – Team two member

Trax Scanlon – Assault leader, ex-security commander on Delhart

Beta One (X-Ore)

Adam Stynchula – Comtech head

Brent Bye – Accounting head

Connor Metcalf – CEO

Kristine Gholasky – Flight controller

Leonard Goth – Engineering head

Mathew Colbrum – Security commander

Melondy Phillips – Director of cloning

Nate Strasser – Director of operations

Ronan Nagle – Dome facilities head

Sookie Park – Personnel head

Beta Two (X-Ore)

Elisabeth Flaum – Dome facilities head

Harlyn Blackwell – X-Ore research head

Jeffrey Witcher – Engineering head

Knut Kielpinski – Veteran shuttle pilot

Lemil Boydston – Accounting head

Patty Bonnet – Comtech head

Peter Doell – Director of operations

Ricardo Broadus – Port flight controller

Saran Auernhammer – Personnel head

Sevick – Assistant promoted to head the cloning department

Beta Two Clones

Dybra (Brady)

Evest (Steve)

Idreid (Didier)

Nala (Alan)

Dominance Sisters

Galena – Acting medical officer, Miriamal clone

Helena – Miriamal clone

Miriamal – Militarist leader, first-gen copy from Miriam

Peña – Pia Sabine (Omnian medical officer) lookalike, first-gen copy from Miriam

Podara – One of ten Miriamal sisters left on Beta Two

Theda – Terese Lechaux (Haraken redhead) lookalike, first-gen copy from Miriam

Xena – Peña clone

Delhart (CenGas)

Carlin Isles – Security commander

Denise Bell – Board chairperson

Eaton Saby – Board director

Helga Simone – CEO

Janet Woolen – Infiltrator from Kilmer mining world

Jorge Samos – Ex-senior agent

Valerie Gladstone – Engineering department head, transferred from Geneva mining world

Geneva (Raw Metals)

Crystal Gaston – Director of operations

Kilmer (Pure Pour)

Gant Borden – Director of operations

Naiad (Home World)

Ashley – Teen girl who assists Escher and Ceda

Brendan Burke – Young reporter, brother of Gemma Burke

Claudia Hoffing – Naiad councilor

David Yewall – Presiding member of Naiad Council

Diana Breneman – Comtech director

Dimitri Ophane – Criminal organizing hunt for the Truth Matters (TM) partners

Frank Allbers – Chairperson Regolith Recovery (Transit One)

Frederic “Izzy” Chabel – Son of Jacob Chabel, junior ice racer

Gemma Burke – Sister of Brendan Burke

Harriet Taylor – Assistant justice clerk

Ilfon Forlani – Chief justice

Jacob Chabel – Attorney, father of Frederic Chabel

James Soisson – Naiad councilor

Jason Lazama – X-Ore chairperson

Johann Stegmeir – Captain at security headquarters

Karl Denham – Chairperson Raw Metals (Geneva)

Laura Marolakos – Naiad councilor

Lisa Dyehouse – Chairperson Pure Pour (Kilmer)

Oscar Hoffing – Media reporter, son of Councilor Claudia Hoffing

Patrice Demos – Justice

Paul van Dysen – Commandant of security headquarters

Ramiro Ferraro – Naiad councilor

Samuel – Virtual interrogator, upgraded to controller status

Simona Yewall – Media reporter, daughter of Councilor David Yewall

Stacey Caballero – Lieutenant at security headquarters

Stenko – Black marketer and hacker

Stephanie Wylie – Prosecutor

Yule Stansky – Justice

Omnians

Alex Racine – Co-leader of the fleet, partner of Renée de Guirnon

Cordelia – SADE, partner of Julien

Julien – SADE leader, partner of Cordelia

Renée de Guirnon – Co-leader of the fleet, partner of Alex Racine

Tatia Tachenko – Premier fleet admiral

Ude – Human clone repaired by Méridien SADE Nalia

Others

Artifice – Digital entity, nemesis of humankind and the federacy

CenGas – Mining corporation

Cid – Citizen identification device, implanted with original genetic information

Comtech – Computer, technology control, and network operations

Confederation – Worlds settled by Méridiens

Crats – Corporate rats, derogatory term for corporate management

Densing Array – Located on Naiad’s rim

Dormer – Naiad restaurant

Jargats – Race previously dominated by the Sisterhood

Justice Hall – Location of the Naiad Council

Loop or Looping – Entering one end of a wormhole and passing through to the other end

Mahima Ganesh – Dangerous and tyrannical Confederation Leader

M-chair – Liquid massage chair capable of registering user’s bio data

Mickie – Mining orphans without cids

Miriam – SADE who produced the sisters

Mods – Augmentations/modifications to the body

Naiad Council – Home planet’s ruling body, five members elected democratically

Pure Pour – Mining corporation on Kilmer

Raw Metals – Mining corporation, also known as Raw-Mets, on Geneva

Regolith Recovery – Mining corporation, also known as Reg-Rec, on Transit One

Sentinels – Autonomous security bots

Ser – Méridien honorific for males and females

Sisterhood – Name given to the collection of sisters

Talusians – Society of the Toralians and Sisterhood

Truth Matters – Media outlet of Oscar, Simona, Brendan, and Gemma

Vibro-blade – Monomolecular edged and energy-driven knife

X-Ore – Mining conglomerate

Planets, Stars, Systems, Worlds, Wormholes

Axis Crossing – Intersection of four known wormholes

Beta One – Mining planet one loop outward from Axis Crossing, X-Ore owned

Beta Two – Mining planet two loops outward from Axis Crossing, X-Ore owned

Daimler – System hosting Kilmer mining planet

Delhart – Mining planet one loop outward from Axis Crossing, CenGas

Everett Wormhole – Originates near Gelus system and leads to Axis Crossing

Felder – System hosting Delhart mining planet

Filium – System and star location of Geneva, also referred to as Axis Crossing

Gelus – System name of Naiad

Geneva – Mining world owned by Raw Metals

Kilmer – Mining world

Méridien – Original home world of the SADEs

Monart – System and star location of Beta Two

Naiad – Name of colony planet in the Gelus system

New Terra – Home world of the colonists from the ship of the same name

Satchel Wormhole – Unexplored wormhole that SADEs came through

Stabler – System and star location of Beta One

Transit One – Mining world

Ships

Alexander – Cremsylon, Z, and Miranda’s Quadrant ship

Axis-ship – Ship designed to protect humans passing through wormholes

Dominance – Militarists’ ship

Quadrant – Style of ship designed by Z and Miranda, the Alexander

Traveler – Sade/sister shuttle

Trident – Omnian tri-hulled warship

My Books

Clone Crisis is the second novel in the Gate Ghosts series, which relates the stories of the descendants of Earth’s fourth colony ship.

The novel is available in e-book, softcover, and audiobook versions. Please visit my website, http://scottjucha.com, for publication dates and purchase locations. You may register at my website to receive email updates on the progress of my upcoming novels.

The Silver Ships Series

The Silver Ships

Libre

Méridien

Haraken

Sol

Espero

Allora

Celus-5

Omnia

Vinium

Nua’ll

Artifice

Sojourn

Alliance

SADEs

Earthers

Talus

Elvians

Q-Gates

Conclave

Pyreans Series

Empaths

Messinants

Jatouche

Veklocks

Gate Ghosts Series

Axis Crossing

Clone Crisis

Race Rivalry (forthcoming)

The Author

From my early years to the present, books have been a refuge. They’ve fueled my imagination. I’ve traveled to faraway places and met aliens with Asimov, Heinlein, Clarke, Herbert, and Le Guin. I’ve explored historical events with Michener and Clavell, and I played spy with Ludlum and Fleming.

There’s no doubt that the early sci-fi masters influenced the writing of my series, The Silver Ships, Pyreans, and Gate Ghosts. I crafted my stories to give readers intimate views of my characters, who wrestle with the challenges of living in space and inhabiting alien worlds.

Life is rarely easy for these characters, who encounter aliens and calamities, but they persist and flourish. I revel in examining humankind’s will to survive. Not everyone plays fair or exhibits concern for other beings, but that’s another aspect of humans and aliens that I investigate.

My stories offer hope for humans today about what they might accomplish tomorrow far from our home world. Throughout my books, humans exhibit a will to persevere, without detriment to the vast majority of others.

Readers have been generous with their comments, which they’ve left on Amazon and Goodreads for others to review. I truly enjoy what I do, and I’m pleased to read how my stories have positively affected many readers’ lives.

If you’ve read my books, please consider posting a review on Amazon and Goodreads for every book, even a short one. Reviews attract other readers and are a great help to indie authors, such as me.

The Silver Ships novels have reached Amazon’s coveted #1 and #2 Best-Selling Sci-Fi book, multiple times, in the science fiction categories of first contact, alien invasion, and space flight.

Table of Contents

1: Second Guesses

2: Council’s Invitation

3: Sisters’ Status

4: New Recruit

5: Devious Intentions

6: Usurpation

7: Special Delivery

8: Alexander

9: Indictments

10: You’re on the Air

11: Second Show

12: Hard Decisions

13: Can We Help?

14: Final Words

15: Xena’s Matrix

16: Metcalf’s Return

17: Long-Term Plan

18: Time’s Up

19: Assault Prep

20: Schism Revealed

21: Political Uproar

22: More Suits

23: Team Assembly

24: Exposed

25: Start the Revolution

26: Odysseus and Hephaestus

27: Fast Exits

28: Conspirators

29: Dangerous Contact

30: Recovery and Interrogation

31: Rim Expansion

32: SADEs’ Race

33: Welcome Collusion

34: Uncertain Futures

35: Council and Commandant

36: Clone Demands

Glossary

My Books

The Author