The Pandora Paradox Page 4

  The SX-5 really did look like a miniature version of his own beloved DL7 with some notable exceptions. The small strike craft only had two thrust engines mounted along the same horizontal plane as the wings, as opposed to the Phoenix's four massive engines mounted underneath in two nacelles. The ship also had a Class-II slip-drive, the only of the five ships available that had one at all. It drove the cost up significantly, but Jason liked the idea of an emergency mesh-out being an available tactic if he got himself into trouble.

  The interior of the ship was as sparse as Jason expected from a military-type vessel. There were two flight crew seats at the front, a single operator seat behind that and to the left, and then the rest of the ship was a large open space. There were comfortable looking crew seats with restraints along the starboard bulkhead and a small galley and head on the port side, and that was it for creature comforts. There was also an infirmary built into the port bulkhead, and two beds that could be retracted when not in use. The rest was all cargo space for anything that an operator may want to haul whether relief supplies or a team of soldiers to be inserted.

  "I am thrilled we have been able to reach an agreement!" Kaloo beamed.

  "Yeah, yeah," Jason said. "Go ahead and get the upgrades installed as quick as you can."

  "Our crew is on the way to handle that even now," Kaloo promised. "As soon as the equipment you purchased is pulled from inventory it will be sent here and installed. Would you like us to deliver the ship to you in orbit?"

  "We'll hang out here so my engineer can watch them install everything," Jason said. "Thanks anyway."

  "Of course," Kaloo said, looking down at the transparent tablet computer he held. "The credit transfer has been completed without issue—I thank you for that—and we're ready to officially register the ship." At that, Jason handed over a data card that had all the information for one of Omega Force's dummy corporations they used for such things.

  "Please, register the ship to this company," he said. "It's credentialed to fly warship-class vessels."

  "Of course."

  The SX-5 was just the base system the new Jepsen Aero sold. It didn't have weapons, countermeasures, or secure communications equipment. Jason had to purchase all of that separately and, since it was all modular construction, the brokerage would bring out all the missing equipment and slap it into the ship. Even though he felt like he was being conned, Jason had little choice but to pay up. At least it afforded him the opportunity to really go crazy and add so many guns that he'd also had to purchase the larger powerplant. Amazingly, the reactor itself was a line-replaceable unit that could be swapped out on the ramp within a couple of hours. In fact, a ground crew had already arrived and started to pull panels off and disconnect the parts that were coming out in preparation for the new stuff going in. He was watching them go about their work when his com unit began to buzz in his pocket.

  "Go," he said when the channel opened through the local Nexus.

  "Our new friend is turning in and coming at us," Kage said. "They're requesting we identify ourselves and claim to be a private security firm in pursuit of fugitives."

  "Get gone." Jason didn't hesitate. "We'll be stuck down here for a bit longer, so we'll catch up to you later."

  "Copy that," Kage said. "Good luck."

  "That Kage?" Crusher asked.

  "Yep. That ship was here for us after all. I ordered Kage to clear the area, and we'll just catch up with them later."

  "Unless they know we came down here," Twingo said. "We'd make an easy grab right now." Jason just frowned at that and willed the ground crews to work even faster.

  4

  "I never get tired of that new ship smell."

  "Yeah I'm starting to get spoiled by all the new hardware we've been getting lately," Jason said over his shoulder to Crusher. "I know war is supposed to be hell but, so far, this isn't so bad."

  "How's she handle?" Twingo asked. Before he answered, Jason yanked the SX-5 into a series of tight s-turns, pushing the power up right at the apex of each direction change.

  "The nose comes around quicker, but she doesn't have the drive power the Phoenix does, so she feels a little sluggish coming out of the break," he said. "Acceleration isn't as good, either. But judging her against something like an Eshquarian combat shuttle or that new Aracorian dropship everyone has been going on and on about, she's an impressive little ship. I'd have preferred to have the same type of flight controls installed, but I can deal with the Eshquarian-style helm for now."

  "There's a surprising amount of room in here," Crusher said, looking around the main cabin that was the entirety of the ship's interior space.

  "You won't be saying that if we get stuck on this thing for more than twelve hours or so," Jason said. "Speaking of which, do we want to just head out and meet up with the Devil's Fortune, or do we take this opportunity to take a closer look at our new friends out there?"

  "I wouldn't risk anything more than a discreet flyby at long range," Twingo said. "For all you know, they're well aware we were down on the surface and what we were doing."

  "Good point," Jason conceded. "I can handle things up here if you want to start your sweeps, by the way."

  Twingo nodded and extricated himself from the copilot seat, heading aft to get his compact tool kit. Jason just assumed the ship had at least a few trackers on it from the brokerage he bought it from. Even if it wasn't official policy, some enterprising tech may be installing them and selling the tracking info to anybody who comes asking around about a specific ship they sold. You found that sort of spy-vs-spy bullshit prevalent at the smaller, out of the way places that sold military grade hardware to non-governmental entities.

  When Jason had first come out into space after being abducted from Earth—or more accurately…shanghaied, since the ship's only crewmember had no idea he'd snuck aboard—nobody really asked too many questions when unlicensed warships showed up over their planets as long as they kept their weapons powered down and didn't start any trouble. Then the ConFed Council started getting pressure to address the huge spike in smuggling and piracy along the main shipping lanes, and they started enforcing the existing laws about flying military hardware without being a part of a declared, recognized military or an approved security contractor.

  The latter, of course, provided that needed loophole for people like Jason to get their machines and crews registered as freelance security contractors, which had a much nicer ring to it than grubby mercenaries. He'd registered the corporation Omega Security Solutions on the planet Niceen-3, which was the nearly lawless gateway world into the Caspian Reaches, but still technically recognized as sovereign by the ConFed. He had paid the necessary people there to approve his license so the Phoenix was perfectly legal to fly with her current weaponry. He then had Kage create a series of shell corporations under the OSS umbrella that would be able to shuffle around funds and make sure other ships like the Devil's Fortune and their new SX-5 didn’t appear on the same corporate header as the gunship. It made sure their operation appeared small-time and off the radar of the ConFed bureaucrats tracking all the new security companies that had popped up.

  Jason pushed the throttle up as the SX-5 zipped through the upper atmosphere and into their first transfer orbit. He'd only need to bounce up one more, and then they'd clear him for departure. Some planets really made you suffer as the controllers ordered you up through multiple orbit transfers before allowing you to veer off and clear the system.

  "Move over," Crusher said, trying to squeeze his bulk over the center console to get into the copilot seat. Jason was smashed up against the bulkhead and struggled to keep his hands on the controls as Crusher grunted and swore, trying to get the seat to adjust to him after Twingo had sat there.

  "Hurry up, fat ass!" Jason griped, throwing an elbow into his friend. "I can't see where the hell I'm going!"

  "We're in space, you idiot!" Crusher shot back. "There's nothing to see!"

  There was some more swearing, wrestling, and a f
ew punches thrown by both parties until the seat finally recognized that the behemoth looming over it intended to sit and moved back and down to accommodate him. The big warrior slammed into the seat with a satisfied grunt, elbowing Jason one last time hard enough to make the ship jolt.

  "Found the first one!" Twingo yelled from the back. "I disabled it, but I won't be able to remove it until this thing is in a hangar."

  "Good enough," Jason said before turning to Crusher. "I don't suppose there's any chance in hell you would know how to tell the computer to do a search for that frigate tailing us?"

  "Let me see if I can figure it out," Crusher said. He made a big show of scratching his head and making animal sounds before his hands flew confidently over the controls, quickly building search algorithms and directing the computer to hunt for the specific ship type they wanted. Jason's mouth just hung open.

  "What the hell?!" he blurted.

  "You do realize that my people were a spacefaring race while you hairless monkeys were hooting excitedly about fire, right?" Crusher asked.

  "I realize that," Jason said defensively. "I've never made any comment about the collective intelligence of the Gelten species…I've made specific comments about your intelligence, and it looks like you've been sandbagging to get out of work."

  "I don't like bridge watches or additional duties." Crusher shrugged. "In the military, the best way to avoid extra work is to appear hopelessly incompetent."

  "You lazy fuck."

  "See, now you've got it," Crusher smiled. "Stupid? No. Lazy? Yes."

  "Can you pilot a ship, too?"

  "I've been trained, but I'm not very good. I don't have the knack for spatial relations like you and Kage, not to mention that ridiculous flight control system you installed in the Phoenix. Our bogey looks like number three on the list."

  Jason looked at the target on his own display and agreed it did indeed look like a battered frigate of the same shape and size as the one they wanted, but without access to their own threat database, they couldn't be absolutely certain. He switched the ship over to autopilot and concentrated on the frigate for a few moments, noting it had moved in much closer to the planet. It was now sitting between the planet and its closest moon. Maybe it hadn't been turning in to pursue the Devil at all, and Kage was just jumpy.

  "What do you think?" Crusher asked.

  "It's possible the one we're after is already out of the system, meshing-out right after Kage did," Jason said. "I don't know. This ship's computer doesn't know its ass from a hole in the ground yet so we can't get much analysis beyond dimensions and power readings. Let's just get the hell out of here." He pulled up the flight director panel and punched in their mesh-out point and first destination. They had a prearranged spot to meet up with Kage, and then they would move on to the rendezvous with the rest of the fleet. Once the SX-5 got clearance from the ground controller and accelerated to break orbit, things got interesting.

  "They're matching acceleration," Twingo said from over Jason's left shoulder, pointing at the display.

  "Maintaining distance for now, though," Jason said. "But yeah, I don't think this is just another random coincidence."

  "Orbital Control just released us," Twingo said. "You're free-navigating."

  Jason swung onto a new course that would send them directly to the mesh-out point he'd picked and pushed the throttle all the way up. There was a muffled whine from the drive as the ship smoothly pulled away and raced for the arbitrary navigational point in space. It was the closest one to the planet Jason could pick, and they were going to do a series of random jumps to lose a potential tail, so he wasn't too worried about the frigate watching his departure vector.

  "Bye for now." Jason waved to the sensor contact. "I'm sure we'll be seeing each other again real soon."

  The slip-drive on the SX-5 charged almost instantly, and the little striker disappeared from the system with barely a flash.

  5

  Things had become…odd…on Miressa Prime.

  The ConFed's recognized capital world had become a tense and unwelcoming place, and it wasn't just because someone had been brazen enough to openly attack the fleet in what had been the first attack on a Pillar World system in over two thousand years. People walked the manicured grounds of the capital compound with their heads down, barely speaking to each other as they passed.

  No, it wasn't the attack on their homeworld that scared them. It was something else. Something only talked about in hushed, fearful whispers in the safety of homes or private offices. It was the thing that caused people to flinch whenever Homeworld Enforcement walked by them in their dark blue armor.

  Someone new had seized control of the ConFed and was now moving quickly to solidify their power.

  Scleesz, a Senior Councilman now in charge of no less than three committees, making him one of the most powerful members of the legislature, knew exactly what—not whom—had quietly taken over. The Machine, the malevolent AI that had arrived from well beyond the border worlds, had managed to slither in undetected and compromising Councilmembers, the Grand Adjudicators, and even the High Magistrates by blackmailing them all with knowledge of their shady dealings.

  It had depressed Scleesz greatly that it seemed all members of the ConFed's central government were so involved with illegal backdoor deals they could be so easily turned…himself included. They'd happily agreed to the terms the newcomer had given them if it meant they got to hang on to their money, power, and little fiefdoms. Once the full scope of what they had done had become clear for those who now knew the Machine's true nature, their fear of reprisal for their actions kept them cowed.

  Even when the Machine had ordered the War Fleet against the Eshquarian Empire in an unprovoked, savage invasion, they'd stayed quiet. Some had chosen to play mental games and try to justify their betrayals. Others, like Scleesz, had decided to work behind the scenes to undermine their new overlord.

  On the surface, it seemed easy. It was a computer program that didn't even have control of a corporeal form with which to exert its will. How hard could it be to cut it off, suffocate it? As it turned out, quite. The Machine had managed to create enough people digitally, wholly fictitious people, and imbue them with the authority to command the military and act on its behalf that it no longer mattered that it had no physical presence. In their society, a message sent over the Nexus from an official address carried the same weight as an order delivered in person.

  Then there was the problem of the synths. The capital city now seemed awash in them, and while the normal synths weren't particularly rare, it was odd to see so many of them immigrating to a single place so quickly. Scleesz knew for a fact the Machine had reached some sort of accord with one of the synth political factions, likely one of the more militant anti-biological segments, and was now using them as hired muscle. The ambassador and councilmembers from Khepri, the synth's homeworld, hadn't been seen in months, and Scleesz could only assume they were being held prisoner…or worse.

  "If you're ready, Councilman?" the synth asked, at least allowing Scleesz to publicly maintain the illusion he had a choice in where he went and when.

  "Of course," he said and stepped into the waiting aircar. The Machine had known the moment he was back on Miressa Prime and had sent one of its synths to fetch him almost immediately. Scleesz had just enough time to see that his office at the capital had been tossed, as had his home office and even a secret, off-site facility he maintained. He was relatively confident in his precautions, but the Machine could have very well discovered he helped the burgeoning rebellion against the ConFed and toyed with him before he'd disappear without a trace.

  The ride to a nondescript building on the outskirts of the government district went by in silence. The blocky tower looked like any of the other ubiquitous military buildings that dotted the city, but this one had been constructed fairly recently. It had multiple redundancies for power and communications and had heavy, reinforced walls as well as active shield generators that co
uld repel attacks from orbit. Not unheard of, but unusual for a building not on the main capital compound. Scleesz also knew there had been far more crews than usual building it, each one only being allowed to do a small, specific part so that no single person on the labor side had any real idea what the building was being used for.

  "You're expected inside," the synth said, breaking the silence once the aircar had settled gently onto the roof.

  "My thanks," Scleesz said with as much dignity as he could. Being grabbed off the street and whisked away in an aircar without notice or without the courtesy of bringing his assistant and security was an intolerable breach of etiquette. But it wasn't like he was in any position to complain.

  He was whisked into the fortress the Machine had taken up residence in, escorted to a set of lifts by an actual biological species, a rarity in the Machine's inner sanctum these days. Scleesz handed over his com unit and allowed himself to be scanned for any devices, not bothering to waste the energy on a greeting he didn't mean. As the lift dropped down below surface level, Scleesz could feel his anxiety building. If the Machine wanted him dead, there'd be no point in bringing him here. If he wanted him tortured first, however, then he would've been foolish to accept the invitation so readily.

  "Councilman, welcome," the omnipresent voice boomed from the walls once he was sealed in the Machine's reception chamber. The room had been specially built to make eavesdropping a virtual impossibility. "Congratulations are in order, I suppose."

  "I'm afraid I'm not sure what that would be for," Scleesz said. "I was unable to stop or forewarn of the attack on our capital system, and the loss to the fleet is—"

  "Immaterial," the Machine said. Light motes swirled around the chamber and quickly coalesced into a surprisingly life-like holographic avatar. What shocked Scleesz so completely was that the image the Machine had chosen to present itself this time as was unmistakably human. "You were not sent to stop Colleran and her supporters. The ships we lost were insignificant…useless in the coming struggle."