Sol (The Silver Ships Book 5) (16 page)
Read Sol (The Silver Ships Book 5) Online
Authors: S. H. Jucha
The UE scientists were continually educating Alex and Tatia on the system — planets, moons, colonies, domes, stations — the complete and partial domination by the UE militia. The moons of Jupiter and Saturn, totaling more than 100 bodies, held the greatest concentration of rebels, who were mixed in with the general population.
A couple of hours later, Alex received Julien’s message. Julien sent.
Alex looked at the door and the scientists followed suit, recognizing that Alex had received a message.
In the corridor, Julien gestured to a door, which slid open, and Tribune Brennan walked through it with Lumley beside him. As directed, both men were wearing casual Earther attire, which seemed out of place on the station, where most people wore some sort of variation of a ship suit, uniform, or the more creative civilian wear of the outer rim.
“Francis,” Olawale called out loudly and ran to greet the captain by picking him up in a huge bear hug.
“Easy, Olawale. After surviving everything I’ve been through in the past few months, it would be ironic to die from the greeting of a friend,” Lumley replied, but the grin on his face said he didn’t mind the enthusiastic welcome.
“Captain Lumley,” Alex said, walking around the holo-vid, which he deliberately left on, to greet the captain. “It’s a pleasure to see you in person again. Is your crew well?”
“They have been released, Mr. President. It seems the word is out about you, and their incarceration has no more value.”
“Good to hear, Captain. Although, to my mind, there was never a need to imprison them,” Alex replied, and slid his eyes to the tribune to drive his point home. “Tribune Brennan, so generous of you to bring the good captain to visit with his friends. Will you be staying long or are you just dropping the captain off and returning to Earth?”
Alex shook off his pique and offered both men a smile. “But where are my manners? Please come in. I was just being educated on your solar system … the habitats and the players … you know … the conquerors, the conquered, and the rebels.”
Lumley hurried forward, fascinated by the holo-vid, and Olawale and he huddled while the scientist explained how the device worked and what they were seeing.
Brennan leaned over to study a remarkably clear view of Saturn and some of its moons. “How old is this image?” Brennan asked.
“You’re looking at a real-time image, Tribune,” Tatia replied.
“Since Saturn is on a near pass, it’s about three days old then,” Brennan guessed.
“Is that what real time means to you people?” Tatia asked, a frown forming on her face. “We’ve had time to drop probes throughout your system, Tribune. The image you’re looking at is real time.”
Brennan looked over at Lumley, but it was Olawale who offered the tribune an apologetic smile and an explanation. “If I was to say, Tribune Brennan, the Harakens are more advanced than us in many ways, I would be so woefully understating the truth.”
The tribune was trying to grasp the reality of the Harakens’ incredible technology when he absent-mindedly reached out to touch the life-like image of Neptune.
“Careful, Tribune,” Tatia warned. “You don’t want to destroy Neptune.” A round of laughter followed Brennan’s quick snatch of his hand back from the holo-vid, a shocked expression on his face. “Apologies, Tribune. I couldn’t resist,” Tatia said.
“Tribune Brennan, let’s take a walk, while Lumley gets reacquainted with his old friends,” Alex said and swung a hand toward the salon’s main door.
Brennan’s exit to the corridor was a mix of stuttered steps as he followed the president and took in the entourage who accompanied them in a precise turning of bodies even though the president hadn’t requested their presence. Adding to the thoughts churning through his mind was the incredible variety of the Harakens — some enormous like the president, his admiral, and the gigantic one called Z — some displaying an other-worldly beauty such as the identical twins, who flanked their group, their eyes searching the crowded corridor for signs of trouble.
“Have you been to the station before, Tribune?” Alex asked.
“Actually, never, Mr. President, but I’ve seen militia vids as late as five years ago. I must say that what you’ve accomplished here is a —”
“Revolution,” Alex supplied.
“Miraculous, certainly,” Brennan said, carefully avoiding Alex’s term. “That’s why I’m here. Analysis of the flow of ships, people, and credits indicated a statistically significant growth. But I have to say that what I’m seeing so far indicates the estimates didn’t do justice to the changes. This is a revival!”
“And what do you intend to do with this information, Tribune?” Alex asked.
Brennan would have explained, but an intoxicating woman swept up to the president and kissed him passionately. Then holding onto the president’s arm she extended a hand to him, saying, “Tribune Brennan, I’m Renée de Guirnon.”
“A pleasure … uh, Lady de Guirnon,” Brennan replied, shaking Renée’s hand and taking a stab at her title.”
“Actually, we say Ser de Guirnon, but you may call me Renée.”
“Renée,” Brennan repeated, enjoying the name and fixing on Renée’s face. “I’m Ian,” he added.
“What do you think of your station, Ian?” Renée asked, releasing Alex’s arm and taking Brennan’s — just two old friends strolling the corridor and chatting.
“I was just telling the president,” Brennan said, looking over his shoulder at Alex, “that I’m impressed, and I want to study what’s happening here. I would love to replicate this across the entire system.”
“But do you know, Ian, what is at the heart of this success?” Renée asked.
“Yes, I believe I do,” Brennan admitted with regret. “I’m hoping to convince others that we should make this station the model for the entire UE.”
“Why now, Tribune?” Julien challenged. “Is it because the UE is failing, economically and politically?”
“That’s —” Brennan started to say and then stopped. “That’s not a well-known fact,” he finally said.
“How bad?” Alex asked. The group had come to a halt and formed a small circle around the tribune, forcing the station’s inhabitants and visitors to flow around them.
“Twenty years or so,” Brennan admitted.
“If you wait until there’s an economic collapse, Tribune,” Julien said, “your system will descend into chaos.”
“There’s always that remote possibility, but —” Brennan started to argue.
“A 0.1 percent possibility of avoiding a chaotic end,” Z added.
“I wouldn’t argue with the SADEs, Tribune,” Alex said. When Brennan showed his confusion, Alex said indicating the two SADEs next to him. “Allow me to introduce Julien and Z, cognitive digital entities. What you might refer to as artificial intelligences. Strange term though. There’s nothing artificial about them.”
Ian Brennan looked across the faces arrayed in front of him — large, slender; ordinary, beautiful; human and artificial — and felt his legs go weak, but he never felt the strike of the deck. When the black mist began to dissolve, Ian felt powerful arms under him, carrying him toward a door labeled medical clinic. Black fading to gray allowed him to identify his rescuer as the president.
Suddenly, another beautiful face with flame-red hair swam in front of his, calling out his name. “How does everyone know me?” Brennan mumbled before passing out again.
* * *
Ian Brennan came back to consciousness on an extremely comfortable medical table. Touching his head, he felt the cool metal of a small device attached to his temple. Shifting onto his side, Ian sensed the table arrange itself to accommodate his new body position. For a moment, he thought the movement under him was indication he might be overwhelmed and about to pass out again, but no nausea or blackness came on. In fact, he felt fine.
“You may sit up, Tribune Brennan,” Terese said, sweeping into the cubicle. She examined her medical reader and reached up to remove the monitoring device from Brennan’s temple.
“Were you aware of the extent of your thyroid condition, Tribune?” Terese asked.
“Thyroid condition?” Brenan echoed in confusion. “I knew I was suffering lately from fatigue, always tired, but I thought it was just stress, the work,” Brennan replied.
“Yes, I can imagine playing tyrant is extremely taxing,” Terese replied. “Well, you won’t need to bother seeing a doctor now. You’re free to go. I’ve commed the president. He’ll be waiting for you outside. Through there, Tribune,” Terese said, gesturing down a corridor and walking away.
“Wait … won’t I need continuing medication?” Brennan called out.
“Medication? For what purpose?” Terese asked tersely.
“To keep the symptoms at bay,” Brennan replied.
“You’ll have no more symptoms, Tribune. As of this moment, 73 percent of your thyroid function has been restored. Within two more days, it will be fully restored and should remain that way. Be on your way, Tribune. I have people who I prefer to treat.”
Brennan found his way out of the clinic. The president was waiting for him as the red-haired woman had said he would be.
“Well, Tribune Brennan, now that your medical disaster has been permanently averted perhaps we can continue our conversation,” Alex said, indicating they should continue walking.
“That’s what the woman said … the striking woman with the red hair … she said I was cured. But how?” Brennan asked.
“Another of those technological advancements of ours,” Alex replied.
“Do you think that you might share some of these capabilities with us?’ Brennan asked.
Alex stopped and faced the tribune. “First, stop warring on your own people. Prove you can act like a civilized human society, and then come visit us in peace. Maybe then we’ll see about sharing what we know. Come to think of it, I advise you to send the good Captain Lumley. He knows the way … that is, of course, providing the captain doesn’t leave with us.”
* * *
Cordelia left the station’s admin offices, intending to join Julien and meet the tribune, who had just arrived. Instead, she heard Jason’s young voice desperately calling her name.
“Come quick, Cordelia,” Jason urged, running up to the SADE and grasping her hand, unaware that he was tugging on an avatar, to no effect whatsoever. “Hurry! It’s Ginny. Something’s wrong.”
Jason released Cordelia’s hand and ran down the corridor, waving for Cordelia to follow, but his spindly little legs weren’t anywhere as fast as the algorithms that drove Cordelia. She raced up behind Jason, scooping the boy up in her arms, and moving through the corridor at a speed that frightened humans, Earther and Haraken alike.
“Point the way, Jason,” Cordelia said, keeping her voice calm for the boy.
She needn’t have been concerned for Jason. The breeze created by Cordelia’s pace was blowing the boy’s half-scalp of hair back and only accented the smile momentarily plastered on his face.
“Turn here,” Jason said, pointing to a side corridor.
With her avatar’s weight, Cordelia’s feet were unable to maintain traction against the decking for the sharp turn, and she quickly shifted Jason to her right side as her left shoulder impacted the corridor wall, leaving a significant dent in it.
“Uh oh,” Jason whispered, looking back at the dent. He directed Cordelia for a few more turns before he cried, “Stop, Cordelia! She’s in there!” Jason was pointing to an abandoned supply compartment. The door was slightly ajar. “She won’t let anyone come close to her, Cordelia. Not even me, and I’m her best friend. She just cries and holds her ears.”
“Stay here, Jason,” Cordelia said, setting the boy down gently.
The door was jammed, but Cordelia forced it. The resulting squeal of metal elicited sobs from deep in the room. Cordelia made her way as quietly as she could through the wall of empty shelves, finding Ginny huddled in a far corner, tears streaking her face and hands covering her ears.
The sounds of our world overwhelming you, little one?
Cordelia thought. She lowered herself next to Ginny, making as little noise as possible.
In moments, Ginny abandoned her corner and crawled into Cordelia’s lap, pulling her legs up to her chest, forming the tightest ball she could.
I’ve only just become mobile, little one. I’ve no experience as a mother,
Cordelia thought. Searching for information on children, Cordelia was struck by the image of the Swei Swee young, riding the backs of the matrons, and falling asleep to Mutter’s lullaby serenades. The centuries-old SADE had been gracious enough to share her extensive library of human compositions with Cordelia to use for her visual art, and Cordelia carried many of her favorites with her. Selecting the gentlest renditions and barely whispering, Cordelia began to sing.
Song after song came from Cordelia’s lips until Ginny slowly uncurled and crawled upward to place her partially repaired ear on Cordelia’s cheek. Over time, Cordelia ever so slowly increased the volume, and Ginny slid back down into her lap, placing one ear against Cordelia’s chest.
The tiniest whisper of feet signaled Jason creeping through the shelves. When Cordelia saw him, she held out an arm, and Jason snuggled in close, timidly reaching out a hand to Ginny, who reached out to hold it.
Cordelia continued to serenade the children until both fell asleep. It was hours later when Julien eased through the open storage door and silently crossed the room to Cordelia. The sight of the two children huddled asleep in Cordelia’s arms stopped his processing for the barest of moments.
For the gifts that continue to come our way, thank you, my friend,
he thought.
Julien, listening to Cordelia’s soft voice, sat down across from her and the children. In one hand dangled the pair of Earther noise-canceling ear covers Cordelia had requested.
