Owner 03 - Jupiter War
‘Ten seconds,’ he stated.
‘Sure thing, O omniscient one,’ said Gladys.
Alex instantly relayed an audio recording of the word into a search to get the meaning. He guessed Gladys’s vocabulary was the kind you picked up if you constantly played VR fantasy games in your time off.
The count dropped to zero and the asteroid expanded, blowing out clouds of ice dust, then came a flash, sending rainbow colours skittering over its surface.
‘What the fuck?’ Akenon exclaimed.
‘Complex ices,’ Gladys explained, before Alex could do any research. ‘They fluoresce as they turn into normal water ices, and the demolition charges will have caused a bit of that.’
‘Thank you, O omniscient number two,’ said Akenon.
Alex stood up, the image on the screen now replaying in some part of his mind. The asteroid was heaving like some big beast taking a breath, becoming deformed, clear fragments visibly moving but the cables preventing it from flying apart. As he opened the door into their living quarters, he saw the mooring line snake out again and its explosive harpoon imbed itself into one of the larger chunks. Later they would have to return to detach the cables in preparation for those same chunks to be hauled inside the Owner’s new ship.
No sign of Ghort.
Alex moved on into the recently enlarged hold and at last spotted his team leader. Ghort was standing beside an open crate and, from his distracted expression, was obviously communicating with the other team leader. Alex walked over and waited politely, just as when someone was using a fone. His gaze strayed to the crate, which was the same one the demolition charges had arrived in. There were four charges left inside. Alex would have thought little about that had not Ghort, upon suddenly realizing he was not alone, turned round and casually closed the lid.
‘You missed the show,’ said Alex.
Ghort tapped his own head. ‘I was watching.’
Alex acknowledged that statement with a nod, then paused as something massive dropped into his mental compass. It lay thousands of kilometres beyond the ice asteroid, and weighed heavy in his mind through its wealth of connections, data, possibilities: what had once been Argus Station, but was now turning into an interstellar vessel, had come as close as it could by relying on the Rhine drive and was now firing up its Mars Traveller engine. Only able to access a small amount of all that lay available, Alex felt he understood Alan Saul so much more now, and understood why he had chosen that title ‘the Owner’.
Turning away from Ghort, Alex wondered if any of the demolition charges inside that box would soon go missing, or if some had gone missing already. He decided he must try and find out where they would end up, and whether Ghort required expert help to deploy them. He now had an intimation of what his team leader’s plans might be, and decided that he wanted to be included. All Ghort needed to do was trust him fully.
Alan was ever so careful not to infringe her territory, and Var was sure that sometimes, when she made any mistakes, he overlooked them just so long as they did not impinge upon his overall plans or threaten to result in danger. However, despite his diplomacy, she knew for certain that what she was doing he himself could probably now do with only some designated portion of his mind. That rendered her expertise impotent and, indeed, impotent was the best way to describe how every other ‘expert’ aboard this ship was feeling.
The section of lattice wall she stood upon, adjoining Arcoplex One, had been turned into some weird alien rockscape consisting of numerous chunks of asteroid crawling with those giant golden centipedes busy securing them in place. As she looked up to watch a chunk of dirty ice being driven into the ship’s skeleton by impellers and human workers wearing EVA units, she reflected how those workers were now better off than the experts. They, at least, were finding ways to advance and adapt within the increasingly alien and frightening environment of this ship. All the experts, however, were thoroughly aware that they could never again be the top in their field, and that the ultimate expert here was always looking over their shoulders. That was with one exception, perhaps.
‘It doesn’t matter what kind of security you use in computer tech,’ observed Hannah from beside her, ‘since there’s always someone who will find a way to circumvent it.’
Var glanced at her. ‘So you know what it is?’
Hannah glanced up from the vacuum-format e-pad that she had stuck on the surface of a chunk of asteroid consisting of metallic bullet-shaped chunks, like belemnite fossils. ‘It’s an encoder rather like those used in subnet hardware. A group of the chipped have set up a – until now – secret method of implant-to-implant communication.’
‘Should I be worried?’
‘I don’t know.’ Hannah shook her head, which made a visible gesture in the VC suit she wore, but was something Var could not achieve in her heavy work suit. ‘I think it highly unlikely that Alan is unaware of this.’
‘Are you aware of this, Alan?’ Var asked.
‘Yes, I am aware of this,’ he replied.
The immediacy of his reply did not lead Var to think he had been paying close attention to her and Hannah. That was just some piece of software – rather like one used in the more user-friendly fones – responding to a question directed at him. Doubtless some further piece of software, presently recording every public and probably every private conversation aboard the ship, had immediately dragged up the previous content of the exchange between Hannah and Var for his instant inspection. Of course, he did not respond to every question directed at him, just to those he considered important and relevant. That assessment was probably carried out by yet another piece of software, or a subsidiary thought process, since within him the difference wasn’t easily defined. She wondered if he knew that the replies he gave were just enough to promote the idea of his being godlike, ever present and ever watching. Of course he knew.
‘What are they using?’ Hannah asked.
‘It’s quite simple,’ he replied. ‘The encoder attaches to their relays, and provides a list of icons they can select to contact anyone else with a similar encoder.’
‘And you’ve cracked those codes,’ Var suggested.
‘In a way . . .’
‘So what are they saying?’
‘They are saying they must build the groundwork of their rebellion cautiously, and that, since an escape to Earth would only result in them being captured and killed by Galahad, their domain has to remain here, aboard this ship,’ Saul explained. ‘And for them to be truly free aboard this ship, the autocrat currently in charge has to die.’
‘And you allow this to continue?’ Hannah asked in exasperation.
‘What would you have me do, Hannah? Have them thrown in an adjustment cell, or killed, or perhaps sent over to you to have their minds wiped?’
Studying Hannah’s expression, Var saw it transform from exasperation to weary horror.
‘No,’ Hannah replied, ‘there always has to be a better option.’
‘It’s just talk,’ he continued, ‘and talk cannot hurt me.’
‘They’ve managed to put together this hardware,’ Var protested, ‘and mere talk can easily turn into something else.’ She felt he was again being irritatingly dismissive and arrogant.
‘And should it do so, I have something in place ready to counter it,’ Saul replied. ‘I wait in the hope that they will see what others receiving implants and backups saw at once and so clearly. I wait in the hope that they will cease to behave as children.’
‘Who are they?’ Var asked. She certainly didn’t want such people working on anything important, and she was damned if she wanted to leave everything to her brother. She didn’t believe the myth he was creating about himself and, as she finally admitted to herself, she didn’t really trust him.
‘That I will not tell you,’ he replied. ‘Don’t you have other things to occupy your time right now?’
Suppressing a snappy reply, Var glanced up. More EVA units were now on the move above, travelling up along the
length of the newly erected arcoplex spindle. And, when she turned on her visor display and inspected a work-order flow diagram, she saw that the new transformers were now being moved into position. Of course, if she had taken the time to get her own implant installed, she would have been aware of all this much sooner.
‘Work to do,’ she said to Hannah, before she launched herself upwards.
As Saul watched Var head away, he briefly dipped again into the communications between the would-be rebels, but everything worthy of note was already being flagged in a continuous recording. He checked these latest flags and noted that Ghort and two others had been discussing Alex. Ghort was still unsure about this member of his work team, but the others were insistent that Alex must be recruited. In their eyes he possessed the training and skills they needed and, being the last surviving clone of Alessandro Messina, having him on their side would send out a powerful message during further recruitment. Ghort had to question whether that message would be a positive one, and so their discussion had continued. Saul calculated that they would shortly make their first approach to Alex who, though emotionally less complex than most other human beings, was very smart in many other respects, and would respond positively and join them, just as Saul had predicted.
He next watched the final chunks of ice being ferried in and roped down amidst the asteroid matter on the lattice walls of the station wheel. This even distribution would reduce distortion of the warp bubble, though there was a small chance they would lose another chunk of the docking pillars. Meanwhile, Var was now ensuring the locking down of the transformers being installed at the upper pole of the ship.
As he watched through nearby cams, he reflected how he had handled his sister’s most recent . . . error. The transformers were heavily insulated, as were the cables leading inside from them. The insulation Var had intended to use had been more than adequate to deal with a potential two megawatts running through the station, but were not sufficient to deal with any of the possibly huge fluctuations above that, so Saul had found it necessary to intervene. However, at the same time he had deliberately speculated with her on the insulation requirements of the space planes that would serve as the anode and cathode they intended to plug into the Io flux tube, so her annoyance was ameliorated by him accepting her suggestion that they use old Mars Traveller solid-fuel booster tanks retrieved from around Jupiter for that purpose. She had, in essence, responded as predictably as Alex. Saul hadn’t even been disappointed, which told him that all those parts of himself he still defined as human were now less so.
Saul briefly considered how, even before Hannah had put the biochip in his head and before he loaded Janus, he had rather stretched the concept of what the likes of Hannah would define as human. Now his human aspects were changing even further as he evolved mentally. He retained the survival instinct, but knew he was growing more and more distant from ordinary human concerns. He had moved beyond contempt, beyond boredom, beyond exasperation. As he was now, he knew that he would have much more closely analysed his previous almost instinctive decision to rescue his sister from Mars, and perhaps decided to leave her there. And now he was seriously considering the benefits and disadvantages of maintaining a human population at all aboard what had become his ship, and considering it very carefully.
The last chunk of ice set on course for its final position, the EVA workers were departing, leaving Saul’s robots to rise up from their plain of boulders and field it. His ship now possessed much more water than its occupants required, but Saul was thinking both towards the immediate future and far beyond. As power became available, the ice would be melted down and piped in between the blast walls and layers of composite armour that now filled the outer ring, around the vortex generator. Then, at some point in the more distant future, when the new arcoplexes were built, he had decided that one of them would become a mostly aquatic environment and therefore much of the water could go there. He visualized a cylindrical sea with land masses positioned at either end, perhaps dotted with islands between over a central barrier designed to contain the pumps that would shift water from one end of the cylinder to the other, to mimic the effect of tides. It would be a curious environment for the spectator – with the sea curving up on either side around the spindle lights – and one that would take some technical knowhow to balance out properly, especially when using anything other than the Rhine drive.
In that same cylinder he would utilize Gene Bank samples and data to construct a marine ecosystem. Perhaps it might be possible to resurrect extinct species like the dolphin, though anything larger would have to wait until he extended his ship into something the size of a moon, so it could contain larger cylinders. However, perhaps by then he would have had time to look into some interesting possibilities related to Rhine-drive technology and have developed that old staple of science fiction, artificial gravity, and therefore not need cylinder worlds at all.
The ice was down in place and secure, the EVA workers gradually docking and heading back to their accommodation. Var had checked the security of the new transformers, and dispatched the EVA workers there to their homes before attaching herself to a portion of the outer cage that gave her the best view. Hannah, meanwhile, had returned inside, since perhaps one viewing experience close to the engine flame was enough, and her own esoteric concerns were again occupying her thoughts. Le Roque was busy overseeing the now rote lockdown procedure required before a firing of the Traveller engine. All seemed to be operating like a smoothly oiled machine and Saul felt no need, or inclination, to deliver any warnings before he finally fired up the engine again.
The fusion flame glared as bright as the sun, and charging levels rose as rectifying batteries were bathed in the sudden light and heat. The column supporting the engine shortened, but stress-sensor readings showed nothing out of expected parameters. Var whooped in delight, the sight of the Traveller engine’s power never getting old for her. Slowly, the ship began to move up towards the periphery of the Asteroid Belt. It would only take minutes to bring them to the point where solar system maps showed their clearest run on the two hops to their destination. As the minutes passed, Saul considered various plans for the other new cylinder world. Perhaps all the tropical ecologies could be transplanted there from the old arboretum, which would definitely solve some of the heating and insulation problems. Perhaps this new cylinder could be filled with moist tropical life . . .
The time arrived, and Saul engaged the Rhine drive without shutting down the Traveller engine. The effect was an astounding colour display on the interior of the warp bubble, and the production of some exotic particles that Rhine himself was already studying, having been forewarned. The ship moved, at a right angle to the thrust of the Traveller, but since that engine was now effectively firing within its own universe, it had no effect on their course in the outer universe. Heat levels within the bubble rose rapidly, while rectifying batteries distributed throughout the station sucked it up and converted it, dumping charge into super-capacitors, ultra-capacitors and other forms of storage. Saul’s robots literally bathed in it as they also topped up their depleted supplies. Some of the asteroid ice sublimated, creating a fog within the ship’s skeleton, but one that soon blew away as the warp shut down.
Next, Saul shut down the Traveller engine. At the cost of the tritium fuel that was now becoming depleted, he had now effectively recharged the entire ship. He looked around, seeing Jupiter as a slightly larger star far away from them round in its orbit, discerning Mars as hardly visible without magnification and the Asteroid Belt as a haze slewed about and below them.
Again the Rhine drive kicked in and dropped them into what was effectively their personal universe. Saul counted down the minutes as the drive took them up close to the speed of light, closer than they had ever been before. Hawking radiation flooded the ship’s skeleton, and Saul observed an effect as close to perpetual motion as was possible as the power the drive used was replenished by the charging of rectifier batteries. Beyond the speed of li
ght, would they rectify out more energy than the drive actually used? This was an issue Rhine had been considering at some length, but neither his nor Saul’s maths was up to the job. Something new would have to be invented once they had collected enough data, which Rhine was gathering even now. And certainly there was no such thing as perpetual motion, so the cost would have to be paid somewhere, somehow.
Saul allowed his attention to range once more through his ship, taking in detail, assessing conversations, keeping his finger ever on the pulse. He saw Langstrom, Peach and one of the mentally reprogrammed, the repro Manuel, sitting playing a game of three-sided chess on their linked computer screens. This was a pastime all the police still aboard the station seemed to be enjoying, and this particular game was part of a tournament that Saul predicted Manuel would win. Hannah was already aware of this odd effect in some of those whose minds she had wiped: a tendency to borderline autism.
Tick-tock, time passed, though its effects were curious and monstrously difficult to calculate.
‘Paul,’ said Saul, ‘tell me you’re ready.’
‘You know I am,’ replied the proctor.
Something new to try, monitored by eight proctors scattered throughout the ship. Saul had left it just for them to handle, since he was reluctant to let such advanced minds continue solely with the many menial tasks with which they had been occupying themselves.
Paul was out on the station-wheel lattice wall, acting as a node in the network the proctors formed: closely connected to seven of his fellows but only loosely connected to Judd and to the proctor that had named itself Tull, both of whom now completely controlled Robotics. Again Saul resisted the temptation to insert himself into that network and spy on the minds he had effectively created.
‘Two minutes,’ Saul said, noting the Mach-drive coils already drawing power as a mackerel sky spread across the inner side of the warp bubble.