The Bright Black Sea (70 page)

I stood and stared at the display. No doubt the bogey
was heading for us.

'I'd kill the engines, Skipper,' said Tenry. 'They'd
appreciate that. You'll want them in good spirits when they come on
board.'

I glanced back at him. 'I would, eh? Care to tell
your old skipper why? Or are you content to just sit there
grinning.'

'Even this far out, I can recognize the power pattern
and attitude. That's a v-boat, a Viper ver. 71. Used to run them
myself, back in the day. On my good days anyway. My advice is don't
make them chase you. That'll make them ornery.'

'The Patrol.'

'In person.'

'Right. Molaye, signal free fall, and shut her down
when you're ready.'

We didn't make them ornery.

It was like old folk's week at the space academy when
they came onboard a day later and Tenry got to yarning with the
boarding crew about his days in the boarding boats, but it didn't
change the fact that we were ordered to proceed to Despar to
explain our involvement in the conflict and our actions regarding
Explora Miner
to the admiral-in-charge. The Patrol had just
arrived to dismantle Despar's Navy, take temporary charge of Despar
and its Confederacy, and put an end it its raids.

'Is an escort necessary?' the boarding boat leader
asked.

I shook my head, 'We can manage.'

'Right,' he said and gathering his crew, returned to
his boat to continue their search.

I wanted to return to the Unity as soon as possible
and in as good of standing as possible with the Patrol, so we
continued on to Despar. It was either that or the drifts
forever.

Our mercenaries were officially frowned upon, and our
exact status would have to be sorted out at the Patrol's expedition
headquarters in Despar orbit. Tenry and Vynnia believe the most
we'd get is a fine, and a(nother) black mark. Hopefully, our
destruction of the outlawed
Explora Miner
would weigh
heavily in our favor and we'd be on our way back to the quiet,
quaint ways of the Unity in short order. We can only hope.

Two days later we slowly approaching the outer edge
or coast of the Despar Reef. We picked up the beacons marking the
entrance to a channel through the asteroid and dust fields, and
began maneuvering to slowly enter the narrow, rather twisty passage
through the reef's dense asteroid fields to the planet of Despar
that lay three or four days into the reef.

04

I was making my usual evening rounds that evening
when in the no. 4 hold cats rushed me as I walked up the stairs –
we were still lightly decelerating to enter the channel. They
seemed rather alarmed, so I cautiously entered the hold. On the
bulkhead opposite there was a brighter, irregular patch of light
that did not originate from the well. Glancing up from the edge of
the strongrooms, I could see a trickle of light reflected in the
jumble of junk stored overhead. My first thought was, Min. Min was
going over her inheritance again. But that wouldn't have frightened
the cats... I caught a low murmur of conversation...

I hesitated. I didn't want to intrude, and yet I
couldn't think of anyone I'd be intruding on... Or what I'd be
intruding on. So I tiptoed along the edge of the strongroom to the
rungs set in the bulkhead and carefully climbed up to our 'attic'
storage area. The cats leaped and joined me on the edge of the
deck. I could see the refection of a light deep within the little
jungle of abandoned vehicles and equipment. Stepping carefully I
twisted my way through the awkward space between the flier and land
crawler and climbed over the netted piles of gear and all the lines
that secured them to get a glimpse of where the light was coming
from.

Peering down on a dim-lit opening between the piles
of junk, I saw Rafe with the white robot berserker that had been
sent over to take control of the ship. The one that I'd thought
went out the airlock days ago.

'The robot turned its head towards me and said, 'Good
evening, Captain Litang.' Which startled Rafe as much as it did me.
He started – a jump from a sitting position caused him to hit his
head on one of the flier's fins.

'What in the bloody Neb are you up to Rafe?' I
demanded, torn between alarm and amusement.

He turned and rubbing his head, 'Evening Willy.
Didn't hear you coming up,' he said causally, his initial alarm
quickly evaporated, adding, 'I must say, jumping out of hiding like
that on ol'Rafe didn't do his old heart any good.'

'I repeat, what the bloody Neb are you up to, and
what is that doing here?'

'Allow me to introduce you to Botts,' he said
smoothly. 'I've been going over Botts' capabilities...'

'You've kept the homicidal robot aboard the
ship!'

'Allow me to explain, sir,' said the sleek white
robot from its speaker mouth. 'I am a class 8, model 2396.ver 37
supervisory hominoid style machine, serial number
29047857638485736. Class 10 machines and above are considered
sentient machines. I have a personality interface that may give you
the impression that I am sentient, but that can be disabled if it
so suits you.

'I seem to have been acquired at some point in some
manner I am unable to discover and occasionally employed by the
sentient machine
Explora Miner
to interface with humans when
the need arose. Prior to my rather unconventional employment with
Explora Miner
I was employed in the household of Viletre
Viseor as the prime master of one of his yachts, the
Viseor
Entrada.

'Mr gil'Giles has been exploring my capabilities in
secret for fear of creating unrest amongst the crew. As I am now in
your possession and with all my former owners, no long viable, I am
your servant, Captain Litang, and subject to your lawful commands
as captain of this vessel,' it concluded with a graceful bow.

'So you see, Willy, nothing to be alarmed about,'
said Rafe with an easy smile. 'I've been able to throughly explore
Botts's capacities and limitations, and I can assure you it is
completely harmless. A class 8 level machine has no ability to
function at a high enough AI level to override its prime program as
class 10's and above did some 11,000 years ago...'

'But even a class 8 level machine must be terribly
illegal.'

'Well, yes. In the Unity,' allowed Rafe, but added
brightly, 'But here in the drifts...'

'We're not going to be in the drifts forever. I hope.
And we're operating under the wary eye of the Patrol as we speak.
And what's it doing here anyway. I thought I ordered it out the
airlock.'

'Obviously it didn't make it out. On sober
reflection, it seemed to me to be a great waste to send it on its
way. It really is perfectly harmless, Willy. An old class 8
intelligence machine is two full classes below sentient. Don't let
its interface fool you into believing it is sentient. It's not.
I've been able to systematically explore its operating system, and
I can assure you Botts is both harmless, and amazingly gifted. It's
been an eye opening experience exploring old Botts here. Simply
amazing what machines we once had and had to give up.'

'And for good reason, I think. And if we're found
with this, it's felon's rift for us, or me anyway...'

'I have assimilated your ship's information system
and I can say that possession of a class 8 machine is a crime
punishable by permanent exile in the drifts,' said Botts. 'It is a
crime two levels short of a moon exile.'

'See. You're already in the drifts, Willy, so it
can't get worse than this, and I can promise you very real and
exciting benefits from keeping Botts onboard. Why, Botts can stand
watch for the entire crew, run this ship single handedly...'

'In my former position in the employment of Viletre
Viseor, I managed a yacht and staff far larger and more complex
than the
Lost Star
, sir,' added Botts.

I gave it a hard look. It seemed to be able to
effortlessly fool me into thinking it was a sentient machine.

'And I've been able to explore the ship's entire
computer system in far greater depths than I've ever imagined. Why
we've identified eight different data black holes. With Botts's
help, I've been able to walk up to them, symbolically, and peer
down them and catch the reflection of something in them. Ol'Botts
and I will, I'm certain, be able to recover all the data in all
those black holes in no time at all... If you want us to...' Rafe
paused, and added, 'Can I keep it? A favor for your old shipmate,
Rafe gil'Giles?'

I closed my eyes again, and drew another deep breath.
'Do you absolutely guarantee that Botts here is completely tame,
that I'll not run even the slightest risk by letting it stay aboard
the ship.'

'I can absolutely guarantee all that and more. I can
guarantee that you'll not regret it. Botts will more than earn its
way as a member of the crew.'

'Can someone else or another sentient machine hijack
it? It was after all,
Explora Miner
's.'

'I am now owned, as a prize of war, by the White Bird
Line and subject to the orders of Wil Litang, Captain of the
Lost Star
. Until sold or otherwise legally transferred, I
will serve Captain Litang and the ship with unwavering loyalty.
That is what I am programed to do. I am, Captain Litang, yours to
command, and I can assure you, I would not have been in the
employment of
Viletre Viseo
r if he was not
absolutely assured the loyalty of the machines he owned. My service
to
Explora Miner
was of a completely involuntary nature. I
was a mere extension of
Explora
and it had the ability to
override all my limits. I am entirely free of that exterior
influence. '

'Thanks, Rafe. I really appreciate you palming all
this off to me.'

Rafe shrugged. 'Really, Willy, you're my captain as
well, and this is a prize of war. I could hardly claim it as my
own, now could I?'

'Rafe, you can do just about anything you want.
Right. I won't break your heart, but I want this to be our secret
for now. The Patrol may well be crawling about the ship and I don't
want word of this to leak. Keep Botts hidden up here, make it look
like it was part of all this junk from the olden days. And just
leave it be for now until we're clear of officialdom and I have
time to think...'

'Thank you Willy. You'll not regret this...' said
Rafe, much relieved.

'Thank you Captain Litang, I can assure you that, as
a class 8 machine, I am able to understand the issues you are
facing and I will do nothing that will put you in legal or ethical
jeopardy. You can trust me, sir.'

'I've little choice, Botts, I owe Rafe too much.
Right. Bury Botts deep in this junk. We'll give this all more
thought when we're clear of Despar and the Patrol.'

'Thanks Willy. You'll not regret it.'

'Only the Neb knows...'

01

A slight, spare man pushed through the artistically
carved rustic door and paused to let his eyes adjust to the dimness
of the Willow in the Wind Cha House. He searched the room. Only
three tables were occupied, so it didn't take long. His eyes
settled on me, and drifted my way.

'Captain Litang?' he asked in a quiet voice. He spoke
Unity with a slight accent, a drifteer.

I nodded and leaning back on my chair, watched him
warily, my left hand had already slipped into the pocket of my
jacket while he stood searching the room. My effective range with
the darter is not much further than I can swing a billyblade. I've
settled on keeping it in my left pocket, so I could sip cha and
still shoot, if necessary.

'My name is Agust Nun. I am a member of a certain
Order...' he said suggestively.

'Of Saint Bleyth,' I finished, since he wouldn't.

He nodded with a faint smile, 'I'd like talk to you
about the action that Brother Leith D'Lay perished in.'

I brought my little sissy out of my pocket – I'd
already keyed the safety and held it on the table to keep it steady
and pointed it in his direction. 'Go away,' I said.

'I don't mean any harm,' he assured me, spreading his
hands. 'I merely wish to learn more about Brother D'Lay's encounter
with the berserker – an unofficial after action report.'

'I've nothing to say. Ask the mercenaries, they'd
know more.'

'They dispersed as soon as the Patrol released
them.'

'Too bad. Go away.'

'But Captain, a few words...' he insisted, putting
his hands on the back of the chair opposite and leaning earnestly
forwards.

'If you or anyone else from Saint Bleyth wants a few
words with me, you'll first have to call off your assassin and
cancel the contract on Min. Otherwise, we've nothing to discuss. I
don't care to associate with the would-be assassins of my
owner.'

'Sorry, I'm a mere tactician. Stealth is not my
bailiwick. So I can't...'

'Then turn around and walk away. Every time I've met
one of your kind, I've ended up with a plasma dart in me. I can't
tell you what a tremendous feat of willpower it's been, keeping
from pulling the trigger right now. It's hot, I'm irritable. I'm
not in the mood to talk. Go. Get. Blast off.'

He looked down at me and tried again. 'I'm truly
sorry, Captain, but we can't just cancel a contract. We have a code
of ethics...'

I reached out and fired a plasma dart, a regular one,
into his right hand. At 10 centimeters I don't usually miss. I
didn't this time either. A harder squeeze on the trigger would have
added a second, armor piercing dart for good measure – which
would've put a small hole through his hand – but I refrained,
settling for the single stun shot. I could still vaguely remember I
wasn't a born drifteer. Yet.

He looked startled as the dim room flickered faintly
blue with the electrical discharge. It was the first jolt of pure
joy I'd felt in a long time. He kept that startled expression as he
slowly collapsed, allowing me to lift my mug off the table before
he crashed into it and crumpled to the floor.