Overdrive (12 page)

“Yeah, sorry about
that. I was under my employer’s instructions to remain incognito." He
quickly explained about the Overdrive, the death of his colleague’s and his
supposed rendezvous with a representative of his employer.

“I’ve got a
confession to make," said a subdued Crystal.

“Here we go. Yes?”

“We share the same
employer. I was sent here to escort you to the rendezvous and make sure nothing
happened to you on route."

“You’re doing an
excellent job so far. And what’s with this shit about me lying to you. You lied
to me.”

“Well I was under
orders as well. I was to keep you safe, but not to reveal my identity until we
arrive at our destination."

“And what is our
destination exactly?”

“The asteroid
Fever."

“Odd place for a
rendezvous. Isn’t that a retro disco place?”

“Yep”

“Well, why
couldn’t you tell me who you were in the first place?”

“We were trying to
ferret out who intercepted the Overdrive data. Looks like it was the
Areopagite’s but it wouldn’t surprise me if there’s other interested parties.
Your invention has the potential to change the galaxy."

“So your interest
in me was purely business related?”

“Possibly."

“Possibly? What’s
that supposed to mean?”

“It means I’m
considering other possibilities."

“Oh?”

She leant over,
and after two failed attempts at finding his lips, gave him a firm, moist kiss.

“Oh” Felix,
finally recovered his power of speech. “So who do we work for anyway? I take it
Nebula Inc is just a cover?”

“Yes, but I can’t
tell you in case the Areopagite’s squeeze the information out of you."

“Your confidence
in both my abilities and yours is reassuring."

“Don’t you worry.
I’ve got a few aces up my sleeve."

“Well, in the
meantime, I hope my erstwhile bodyguards put their clothes back on and come to
the rescue."

“Good luck.”

“Got any better
suggestions?”

“One or two things
suggest themselves," she said archly, putting a hand on his leg.

“Oh."

◊

“So, what do you
do for the Angels?”

“Pardon?."
Logan looked up at the naked woman under his duvet, pausing to remove his
coverall which was half way down his thighs. “What did you say?”

“Those Angel guys.
They’re fabulous. I just love those Angels with their gorgeous wings. They told
us to come and talk to you, and, you know, have a good time with."

Logan and Tarquin
had taken the Vampires back to their respective rooms. Tina the vampire hadn’t
wasted any time. Almost as soon as they got through the door, her clothes were
off although she’d left her little red horns on. Logan thought they were cute.

“Not that we
needed any incentive,” she continued, giving him a seductive smile. “Any excuse
would have done to talk to you."

“Fuck." Logan
started putting his coverall on again.

Tina looked
confused. “What are you doing?”

“Leaving. What
exactly did they say to you?." He’d managed to get his coverall on and
waited while it assumed his desired look. He had programmed it for black pants,
shirt and a long black leather jacket which it was gradually becoming.

Tina sat up
exposing her large firm breasts. Logan had to drag his eyes away from them.
“They told me that you were business associates and we were a surprise. What’s
wrong?”

“Nothing. Just
gotta go, that’s all. I’ll see you later.” Logan turned and ran out the door.

Tina sat back and
pulled the duvet under her chin. “Typical."

Outside in the
corridor, Logan was about to access Tarquin’s door code when the door slid open
and Tarquin emerged, trying to pull his Coverall on.

“Looks like we’ve
been set up," Tarquin said, catching sight of Logan. “Not a bad set up
either," he said looking wistfully back into his room. Logan grimaced.

“Minx," Logan
said aloud. “Location of Horace Belloc please."

The Minx’s sultry
voice emerged from an overhead speaker. “I cannot currently locate Horace
Belloc. He has either left without my knowledge, which is highly unlikely, or
is in an area that I do not have audio or visual access over.”

“Has any
Areopagite ship docked with you in the last couple of hours?”

“Yes. The
Divine
Retribution
."

“Can you give me
the current location of the crew please?”

“No, but I can
tell you that a short time ago they left the Meat and Two Vege Club accompanied
by Horace Belloc. I cannot detect them on board but my sensors report that the
doors of their reserved Executive suite No. 50001 have recently been accessed,
although I do not have audio or visual access at the client’s request.”

“Is it possible
for a person to be forcibly removed from your ship against their will and
without your knowledge?," asked Tarquin.

“Unlikely. I
currently have a 98% coverage of the ship. In that scenario, I would eventually
track that person down somewhere on board. In any case, a ship cannot leave the
docking bay without my permission.”

“Well that’s
something. At least we know he’s still on board. Come on."

“Where are we
going?," asked Logan.

“Back to my ship.
I suspect we might need a few items."

“You do realize of
course, that the ship won’t let us bring any weapons on board?”

“Yep, but I hardly
think we’re gonna rescue Felix armed only with sarcasm and good intentions.”

“Good point."

“Is there
something you gentlemen wish to tell me?," said the Minx.

“Umm, yes. We
think our friend, Horace Belloc is being held against his will by the
Areopagite’s. Would it be possible to send a security team to investigate?,"
asked Logan.

“I’ll look into it."

“Thanks Minx."

◊

Technological
development had long since outstripped human mental capacity. Even on late 21st
century Earth, humans no longer possessed the reaction time needed to cope with
the speeds modern air and space craft could generate. An aircraft traveling at Mach
15, passing another air craft in mid air, would be 10 km behind before the
pilot knew he’d even passed it. At these speeds, conversations between pilots
and co-pilots usually consisted of:

“Did you see
that?”

“What?”

“Never mind."

The gap between
advancements in technology and the ability of the human brain to process the
information continued to widen over the centuries. The development and
implementation of widespread AI technology in the 22nd century closed the gap
somewhat. Biological AI implants were imbedded in humans neural cortex at the
age of 5, and continued to grow and expand in conjunction with their hosts own
growth. These implants enabled the host to not only interact with a society
that was largely maintained by AI’s, but also to enable better communication
between humans.

The AI’s imbedded
in nearly every human’s brain consisted of communication links, analytical and
processing power which exceeded that of its host many times over and an encyclopedia
and research function that was being continually upgraded. In addition, the AI
could copy its host brain patterns and thought processes, speeding it up to
enable that person to communicate with other AI’s at a similar speed. Thus, a
human pilot on board a space ship could communicate with the ship’s AI at
speeds far exceeding standard human reaction time and make decisions in
conjunction with the ship even without knowing they were taking place. The
pilot, navigator etc, would find out later what decisions had been made via
their AI and be reassured by the fact that the decision had in part been made
by a faster, artificial copy of themselves.

When humankind
began exploring the galaxy, most spacefaring ships were run and controlled by
normal, non-human based AI. Despite the fact that the AI’s were more competent,
faster by many orders of magnitude, and made comparatively few errors, their
human minders were reluctant to let an artificial intelligence make all
decisions. Bridges were installed in all ships, and a supervisory crew kept
contact with the AI at all times. Even by the 29th Century when AI technology
had been proven to be error free and 100% reliable, humans felt compelled to
install a bridge on all ships and have a human supervisory crew on board. The
human crew, however, had hardly anything to do, except in the cases where an
Areopagite Angel was on board and a route via a Shiva controlled part of
nospace was required.

Perhaps it had
something to do with insecurity or the basic human compulsion to be anything
other than completely redundant, but whatever the case, the end result was that
most human space ship crews spent their time drinking, fornicating and playing
cards to fill in the time.

The
Dirty
Little Minx
was no different in this regard. The ships AI controlled every
aspect of day to day ship board life, consulting occasionally with its human
minders if (and this rarely happened) a situation arose that it was not
authorized to proceed without human interaction. The
Dirty Little Minx
had been commissioned by the Hedonist Pleasure Society some 30 years
previously. In those 30 years, the AI that contained the personality of the
late Tina Hogsworth had not once been overruled by a human overseer in regards
to a command decision. If, for any reason, the ships AI should malfunction or otherwise
become inoperable, basic internal programming took over the ships support
functions and any droids (security, maintenance etc) became independent using
their own inbuilt and low level AI’s.

Captain-Pilot
Roger Lapont had been chief supervisory Pilot aboard the
Dirty Little Minx
for the last two years. Prior to that, he had been Pilot on the Minx’s sister
(or in this case, brother) ship, the
Big Member
. Since gaining his
Pilot’s license some six years previously, Roger had done little in the way of
actual work. The same could be said for most pilots, but a Hedonist Pilot was
something special. Being on board a Hedonist StarCruiser was what made Roger’s
job tolerable. He was free to mingle with the guests, in any capacity
whatsoever, and in fact, was encouraged to do so in order to spread the word
(amongst other things), so to speak, in regards to Hedonist society. This Roger
undertook with gusto. A handsome man, tall and with a cheerful disposition,
equipped with the uniform and epaulettes of a Captain, he was rarely lacking
for female companionship. Roger did take his job seriously however. His AI was
in constant contact with the ship, and would ask his opinion about a ship
related affair as often as once a month. Other than that, Roger’s time was his
own – time well spent socializing and enjoying all the other activities
Hedonist society excelled in.

Continuing to take
his duties seriously, Roger was currently firmly ensconced in one of his
favorite bars aboard the ship. The Empathy bar was well named. Smallish and
cheerfully appointed, it consisted of small cozy booths and long comfortable
sofas. The lighting was dim. Not so dim as to diminish the green tinge
pervading the bar however, but dim enough not to be able to see your potential
bed partner too clearly. The green tinge came from fern-like plants clustered
amongst the furniture. The plants, known as Empathy ferns, had been discovered
fairly recently on a lush, jungle type world known as Utopia. They possessed
the innate ability to act as emotion conduits between nearby creatures.

Roger, and the
bars other regular punters, found the ability to read the emotional state of
prospective sexual partners (who could in turn read his) as an excellent short
cut to actually consummating the relationship. With that end in mind, he was
currently involved in a rather flirtatious conversation with blond twins. The
twins, (Donna and Wendy, his AI reliably informed him) were wearing matching
red plastic outfits consisting of low décolletage revealing blouses, equally
leg revealing shorts and long, knee high red boots, euphemistically known as
CFMB, or Come Fuck me Boots.  The emotional feedback he was currently receiving
from the Empathy ferns told him in no uncertain terms that the twins were Up
For It. So engrossed was Roger in the conversation, that he failed to notice
the approach of three men dressed in the uniforms of Templars.

The leader of the
three stopped and addressed Roger.

“Captain Pilot
Lapont?."

Roger tore his
eyes away from the twins, well, technically their respective cleavages, and
turned to face the man.

“Yes?”

“My name is
Knights Captain Tynan of the Areopagites. I require a moment of your time."
Tynan thrust out his hand which Roger briefly shook.

Roger looked back
and forth between the twins and Tynan and then found himself meeting the
Templar’s gaze.