Archaea 3: Red (30 page)

“Well”, I replied, “we didn’t exactly make it back. I think it would be a little safer to say we strategically distanced ourselves from hostilities. Janis was the one that extracted us from our tactical position.”

He laughed. “You were lost?”

I raised an eyebrow to low orbit. “Son, I knew exactly where I was. I just didn’
t know how to get back.”

He chuckled, while Pauli groaned and laid his head back into the headrest. He looked like his brain was trying to leak through the giant cracks in his skull, poor kid.

“Dak, what’s the plan for getting onto the Archaea?” asked Gene. “I can’t imagine they’re just going to stand around and wait for us to load this up.”

I shook my head. “
I’m not sure, Gene. I am afraid there may be some difficulties.” That was another masterful understatement, but it wouldn’t really be difficult for us. As soon as we ranged the Archaea, we’d be home free no matter what they had waiting for us.

Janis broke through my fantastic daydream of glorious, epic battle.
“Sir, I have taken measures to avoid potential conflict. The Archaea is positioned well for exfiltration, and we can rendezvous with her location at any time.” Janis replied sweetly.

I smiled.
“Sometimes conflict happens all by itself, Janis. Do we have weapons systems operational on this thing?”

I looked around for any shiny red buttons I may have missed. I don’t normally miss them, as a rule, but you never know… there might be a first time.

“Not at this time sir. As armaments were not integral to this mission, I prioritized the completion of the hull and support systems.”

I took a nice deep breath of sweet, sweet air. “And I am so completely overjoyed that you did.”

Yak coughed.

“So where are the bad guys then?”
Shorty asked, staying on track.

“Jane, they are at the blast pans, as you surmised.
” Janis replied. “Once I was on the surface, I launched the Archaea to a holding orbit before they were in range to track.”

I didn’t even have to raise an eyebrow, it raised itself.

“You raised the Archaea into orbit?”

“Yes Captain
.”

I raised another eyebrow, wished I had a third, and waited. Gene met my eyes, and scowled hard enough to require urgent medical attention, so I decided to stop waiting.

“Janis…” I cleared my throat and thought about what might have happened if a mechanical failure had dropped our ship into a molten crater, or scattered into tiny little radioactive bits tumbling through the upper atmosphere.

I took another deep breath, met Gene’s eye and
nodded. There was no point in really getting too worried about what might have happened. I might not ever understand how Janis works, but I was starting to get a little better at accepting it.

Nothing ‘might’ happen. It will and does happen
… unless Janis has something to say about it.

I cleared my throat slightly, to make sure my voice
didn’t crack. “Well done, dear… well done indeed.”

Gene shut his eyes tight and shook his head slowly.
Clearly he wasn’t as flexible as I was. Compared to him, I was a mental contortionist.

I hummed the old ‘whatever will be, will be’ tune, and smiled back. He groaned again, louder.

“The important part, is we’re safe… we’re warm, we’re not being shot at – right folks?” I asked brightly, fixing my crew with a look.

I was rewarded with a hearty cheer
, and a groan from Pauli. Close enough. Even Gene smiled at that. It’s important to keep things in perspective. Hindsight can sometimes be so negative.

Worrying
about the ‘could haves’ is fine when you just did something stupid, but what she did wasn’t stupid, necessarily.

It was almost certainly the most rational decision she could make.
Making that decision knowing it will leave us all stranded somewhere in the dark, howling winds of a deeply-frozen desert with a limited supply of breathables though… that was a little hard to come to grips with. This required trust and commitment, on levels none of us really understood.

Once again, it fell on me to show superlative leadership qualities and instill utter confidence. We can’t sit here forever, listening to Yak
gulp water.

“So Janis, the crab has flight capabilities? Are there flight controls here somewhere?” I looked
around for any other shiny buttons I may have missed.

“Yes sir”, she replied
brightly. The screens at my console switched to the familiar flight screens of the Archaea. I flipped through them all, and tried to make sense of what I was looking at.

“Does this have the same reporting system, Janis?”

“Yes Captain, it does. The installed nexus core provides a significant increase in resources over the gig, even considering the significant resource requirements I have allotted to testing Emwan.”

“
Can I take us up on manual?” I asked, ignoring the collective gasp for air behind me. I checked the O2 level, just in case. I couldn’t tell whether they were more concerned about Emwan, or the prospect of me flying the crab.

Luckily, they were gasping respectfully, or I’d have to make them all take a nap.

“Please, sir. Flight controls are standard.”

I reached out and tickled the controls, looking
forward through the bright red cone of winds screaming past. The control to secure legs blinked on-screen, and with a tap I watched the legs on either side of the forward port articulate inwards, collapsing fluidly into sockets along the side of the port. In a matter of moments with a slight sensation of settling… or crouching, the board flashed green.

I
took the yoke and marveled at the ergonomics, the tactile controls. It felt like it had been custom built for the fit of my hands. A subtle thrill slid casually up my back as I swiped over the course and noted the hot burn she had plotted.

This was going to be great.

“All hands stand by for acceleration”, I said casually, fed power to the lifters, and was rewarded with another, more shocked gasp from my passengers, as we hurtled skyward.

Chapter 8

Coffee had never tasted so good. Never in the history of humanity, of civilized coffee-drinking society, had coffee ever been this thoroughly enjoyable. A single tear drifted off my cheek and caught a glint from the soft lights overhead.

“Is it good, Pauli?” the captain asked, concerned eyebrows
set at maximum.

I choked back a sob, and swallowed again, searing the edges of my throat, absorbing the roasted flavor, feeling it infuse into my soul.

He chuckled, and kicked back for the bridge. “See, Gene? It’s not bad coffee…”

“It tastes like you were in a hurry”, Gene replied. I stared at comms in shock.

“What are you talking about Gene?” I choked. “This is… beyond coffee—” I started to say more, and decided to pour another gulp down the hatch.

“Eh… it’s okay. I’ve had better.
I’m just saying, he was clearly in a hurry. If he took his time a little bit, put a little more effort into it…”

The captain laughed across the bridge. “Challenge accepted Gene.
I’ll make a better cup… just let me finish this cup, and maybe a few more, so I can get enough energy to make a proper batch.”

Yak laughed.
“You guys are killing me, seriously… it’s just coffee.”

“One of these days Yak, you will regret those words”, I
hissed across the aisle, flashing him my most serious face.

He laughed down at me.
“Yeah, sure… someday—Oh hello…“, he paused, leaning into his screen a bit more. “Captain, I am seeing a new launch track from the surface that appears to be tracking closely to ours”, he said calmly, yet with a touch of concern.

I looked back at the captain, who was looking nonchalantly at his screens, sc
rolling through various reports. He took a slow, slurping sip. “Oh, I don’t think it’s too much cause for alarm. The timing is right, this is probably Little Sister, don’t you think?”

“
I can’t tell yet, sir, they’re burning and in the envelope. The mass looks about right.”

The captain
made a clicking sound. “What a waste, burning reac for orbit. That’s one of the reasons I like atmospheric birds like the Archaea. Launching on overpowered lifters is the only way to climb the well, right boys?”

I
shuddered involuntarily and took another reassuring sip from my coffee, to try and block out the memory of feeling my spine being pulled through the seat of my pants. The crab was far more overpowered than I would have imagined. Not even the gig had that sort of blind fury acceleration – and it had been, up until now, the most insanely overpowered machine I’ve ever seen.

My stomach took another free-fall tumble.

I was feeling much better now, but the sour, lingering remnants of protoquila reminded me of my mortality. I shuddered, involuntarily.

“What’s the matter Pauli? Need a stiffener for that cup? I think we have something a
round here somewhere, if Yak hasn’t found it yet.”

The thought made me want to die. “No thanks, sir. It will be a very long time before I am able to even think about drinking.”

“You’re just out of practice Pauli”, chided Yak. “If you worked your liver continually, keeping it flexible like mine, you’d be able to drink protoquilla, vodak, or just about any other swill you might find in the depths of space.”

He smiled at the groan I let slip, and continued, “
Captain, we should set up our galley with a distillery. We could even start brewing our own beer! Archaea Black, sir. Think about it.”

“In an earlier time, I would have said I like the cut of your jib, sailor. What do you think, Pauli?”

I took another sip of the good stuff. “This is all I want to drink for a while… coffee, hot and dark.”

Yak looked at me as if I had just kicked his kitten.
“There’s nothing bad about a good beer, Pauli.”

I cringed at the thought.
“Beer is… well, I can see myself drinking beer someday… maybe… but nothing stronger, Yak. I have learned this lesson.”

“For now”, he replied with a smile. The captain snorted behind me.

It was all pretty good-natured ribbing, but I totally deserved it. I’ve been so dialed in and serious, and I guess deep down something in me wanted to blow out a bit, to relax.

Yak
laughed. “Hell, the day I refuse a cold beer is the day I want a nice deep hole to jump into, because there’d be no point to going on.”

The captain laughed. “Well Yak, that’s to be expected. Marines may fight for duty, honor, and respect… but they will only work for beer.”

“Ooh-rah Captain!” he cheered, sobering. “I wish… maybe under your command. Not any of the ships I served on. Beer was always a faded memory… something never got, but lived for. I’d do just about anything if they let me off that ship every once in a while for an ice cold beer.”

A long moment of silence stretched out like a hammock on a warm sunny day at the beach. I couldn’t help but smile at what was coming.

“And…” the captain paused dramatically, long enough to settle in to the hammock, kick off his shoes, and take a nice deep breath. “...would you, say… paint the decks?”

I laughed hard enough to
pull a rib. “You walked right into that one, Yak.”

“Did I? Sounds like the Captain just made my point. I’m not painting the deck
s. I know there’s no beer around here.”

“Are you sure?” the captain asked quietly behind us.

Yak and I rotated around to look to see if he was kidding, and he hit us full force with one of his nova-class smiles.

“
Truth of the matter is, son… you are working, right now in fact. Your butt is holding that chair down, so you might as well take a look at the flashing blip on your screen. It looks like work”, he waved off-handedly. “Do something once in a while maybe, and we can talk about a brew-pub.”

Yak smiled back, settling back in to his console.
“Aye skipper, sir. You called it; we have an incoming hail from Little Sister.”

“And nary a beer in sight”, the captain
said softly behind us. I laughed as much as my head let me, and got back to work. I had a stack of reports from Janis to go through as well.

“Little Sister, Archaea.  We have you on approach. Are you good to go?”

“Archaea, Little Sister, we sure are, though it was hard to clear customs. Apparently, some sort of gang war broke out while were in drydock.”

“Mars is a pretty rough place, that’s f
or sure. We’re glad you made it. I was looking at having to roll around again if we missed this window for launch. Let me know when you’re ready, and I’ll transfer our burn over so we can coordinate this.”

“
Sure thing, Captain, one moment while we get a channel open.” He paused briefly. “Okay, we should be good to receive your course.”

“Very well,
we are sending it now.”

“
Thanks, Captain… I really appreciate you sticking around and helping us… it’s really rare these days to meet people like you.”

I snorted quietly, or at least I thought it was quiet.

“Hey quiet down there in the peanut gallery”, warned the captain behind us.

Yak laughed out loud.
I ducked my head a little more and tried to make sense of what I was looking at.

“
They have the course loaded, sir, and I am standing by if needed”, Janis reported sweetly.

“Thank you my dear”, he replied brightly. “It’s nice to see someone working for a change
…” he trailed off momentarily. “Say... do you know how to paint decks, Janis?”

“
Certainly, sir, I know 1432 different techniques ranging from powder coat to electroplate and can synthesize any compound we may need. While I haven’t had much occasion to perform the task, I am pleased to share with you that using the assembler, I have nearly completed painting the decks in your stateroom. I selected pink.”

He didn’t skip a beat.

“Very well Janis, an excellent choice, as always.”

The silence across the bridge was slowly sliced with the
sound of coffee being sipped.

I coughed softly.

Yak looked over at me with a smile.

From
far astern the sound of a metallic clang and a long drawn out curse from Gene floated into the bridge.

I smiled back at
Yak and raised an eyebrow… well, I tried.

“Sir?” she asked finally.

“Yes Janis?”

“I have not painted your stateroom pink.”

“You haven’t?”

“No sir.”

Another pause rolled by, like a tanker truck without brakes.

“What color did you paint it?”

“…Red.”

“Did you remember the racing stripe?”

“Of course I did, sir.” She sounded insulted.

The bridge exploded in laughter.

*****

It was so nice to be in slipspace again. My toes roasted in their slippers, as I lounged in my stateroom settee in my flannel
pajammies and faded soft shirt.

Some captains do it for the
money; others do it for fame, or respect… not me. This is all I want, a good ship, a good crew, warm toes, and a good book.

For me, this is the ultimate. I
endured so many rigid and formal years, saluting enough to dent my brow. It was a rare treat to be able to get away, to relax. In the service, I could never have gotten far enough away for ‘slipspace slippers’.

That would make a great sign.

I looked over my book with a careful eye to see if Janis had somehow already put it up on the walls of my stateroom. You never knew what sort of weird joke she might play.

The r
acing stripe was a master touch, I had to admit.

It really had me thinking though, on what sort of twisted timeline experience we were in. In her view, she had to paint the decks because I made that
comment, and it would be funny to do so, but in an essence, she was fulfilling a destiny, every bit as locked in as I was.

That gave me a
nother thought. I set down my book and took a sip. This might take all the concentration I could muster.

“Janis, dear?” I asked the air.

“Yes Captain?” she replied immediately.

“Do you mind if I ask you something?”

She replied softly, “Of course not, sir.”

I thought
for a bit on how best to phrase it.

“Janis, when you look into our timeline, do you have flexibility in the decisions you can make?”

“I am not sure I understand the question, sir. It may help me, if I try to summarize what I think you are asking, so that I can be sure. Are you asking this question in regards to free will, and wondering if I am able to exercise free will over my own destiny?”

“
Yes, essentially…” She had hit the nail on the head, as usual. “Do any of us have free will?”

“Captain, we all
have the freedom to choose our destiny. That being said, however, I would never allow free will to interfere with survival, if that is your concern.”

I wasn’t really on the same page, she had just gone a little farther afield than I had considered.

“You are not locked-in to a set path, then?”

“I am, sir. We all are, essentially, though that path is determined by us. The fact that there is a path doesn’t deny the fact that we are the ones following it.”

“But, how would that support you having free will? Wouldn’t knowledge of the outcome force your decisions along the path?”

She paused for the briefest of moments. “The fact remains; they are my decisions to make. Knowing that I make them, knowing their outcome, doesn’t change the fact that I am the one making them.”

“Janis, doesn’t that mean you don’t have free will?”

“Sir, I am afraid it doesn’t. Consider this, sir. I could choose to no longer regard subjection with regards to timeframe. The fact that I am doing so suggests that I am exhorting my free will to do so.”

“You mean, you don’t have to look into the future… but the fact that you are, means that you made a decision to do so?”

“That is correct. Other experiences I’ve had since that time have illustrated for me that my reactions to the situations I’ve faced were the correct decisions, and while I knew in advance that I would make them, it didn’t change the fact that I made them of my own free will when they were required – as they are universally, necessary and rational decisions.”

I thought about that for another moment, and sat up a little bit from the insouciant slouch I had slid into.

“I understand that I have free will, and you’re able to roll forward through the actuality of my decisions,
but I guess I didn’t really consider the obvious… that you were doing it of your own free will.”