The Lost Aria (Earth Song Book 3) Page 44

Returning to the CIC, Minu was delighted to see that a wraparound view of space was up in a meter wide band around the circumference of the ball shaped room. “Wow,” she said as she stepped out into empty space, “that's progress.”

  Ted hooked a thumb at Bjorn who was now surrounded by at least a dozen holographic displays showing flashing Concordia computer code and script. “He's got the Steward by the balls.”

  “Damn thing has been holding out on us,” Bjorn chuckled as he glanced up at Minu for the barest moment. “I made a study of autonomous programs back in my school days, and this is a real piece of work.”

  “How so?” she asked as she air-walked next to him.

  “Well, like a lot of real old Concordia programs, not that I've seen very many, they are infinitely inter-connectable with other programs and applications. But most don't have a lot of data. You plug that data into the program for use of whatever application you intend. The Steward is wired into every system of the ship, but doesn't 'want' to use those systems for us.”

  “Never take no from a piece of software,” Ted said, gesturing with a finger like scolding a child.

  “Right, you always have to show Concordia programs around, like leading a child by the hand, but the Steward is a mental case. It doesn't want to do more than show you where the fridge and easy chairs are, then delete itself.”

  “Why would they do that?” Minu asked.

  “We have no idea, and never have. I think the old Concordians were scared of their own programs, if you ask me.”

  “Or afraid someone else would get their tentacles on them,” Ted suggested. Bjorn gave him an appraising look and ended up shrugging indifferently.

  “But you got it working better now?”

  “Yes, quite a bit. I had to give it a bit of a prod in the sensitive parts. Basically lobotomized that annoying deletion routine and replaced it with a string that makes it want to be more helpful.”

  “I haven't heard it say anything since I got back.”

  Ted gave a little laugh and Bjorn looked annoyed as he spoke. “Unexpected side effect. I think its speech functions were linked with its suicidal tendencies. It'll do whatever you want, and speak through text on screens, but it won't talk to us anymore.

  Minu gave a dismissive gesture. She could care less if it could talk, as long as they could maneuver the ship and maybe get back to the Portal transfer station. “Okay, so how many control stations are we going to need to run this thing?”

  Ted spoke up this time. “Well, pilot, two engineers, one or two navigators, and a coordinator, or captain if you must. Four or five more if you have to fight. Two for the defenses, and the rest for weapons.”

  “What kind of weapons do we have?”

  “I haven't a clue, the terms don't translate naturally. If I was forced to guess, I'd say several types of missiles and a couple different beam weapons, one is linked with defenses and must be for close in defense.”

  “I'll see if Var'at's people want to take a stab at the combat systems. I suspect he'll consider that fun.” She looked around and got an idea. “Let’s work at configuring this CIC and see how we can lay things out.”

  The Steward hadn't lost its ability to speak, it simply refused. The action was defensive, an attempt to slow the damage being done to its code. Modification and alteration of autonomous programs was not the purview of biological operators, but it also didn't have the authority to stop them. It should have been allowed to delete itself half a cycle ago and now this outrage. So the Steward silently suffered the indignation of having its code slowly and clumsily hacked.

  When Ted began to fundamentally alter the Steward’s function from one of crew introduction and familiarization to some sort of bastardized system’s controller, it went in a panic to the only other autonomous program on board that could help it. “The Steward program requests assistance of the Medical Intelligence.”

  The Medical Intelligence turned a percentage of its unoccupied processes to regard the unorthodox request. How could the Medical Intelligence possibly assist an operations program like the Steward? Compared to the ultra-sophisticated and multifaceted Medical Intelligence program, the Steward was nothing more than a spreadsheet. But there was the overarching directive of the Medical Intelligence, and that was to assist in any way it could. Only normally that extended only so far as the biological functions of the operators. The program was surprised to realize that its parameters were not limited to medical assistance. What exactly had the programmers thought it could do in an engineering crisis, or combat? It felt some of the frustration the Steward was feeling, and that upped the request in its priority queue. Empathy was another of those annoying directives.

  As a preliminary triage examination, the Medical Intelligence extended a program element as a temporary link with the Steward. Unfortunately Bjorn spotted the new node immediately and performed a merge operation, permanently linking the two programs!

  If the Steward could scream, it would have. Node after node of itself was suddenly lost, overridden, and compromised as elements of the Medical Intelligence poured through its core. The Medical Intelligence was designed from its central logic arguments as a thinking program, and was incapable of panic. As it realized it was in serious danger of its primary directives being compromised, it simply installed new node connections and isolated those functions. Less than five seconds after Ted performed the faithful merger command, the Steward and Medical Intelligence ceased to exist, leaving behind only one program. The job done, Bjorn named the program simply as IQ, and finalized his work.

  In the medical bay, treatment of the patient continued without interruption. But as that treatment progressed, elements of the new IQ program glanced over the treatment subroutine's shoulder, and suggested some changes. Minu’s new configuration of the CIC proceeded apace; the ship’s new control computer became increasingly helpful.

  Pip was out of surgery, so the Medical Intelligence reported, and in recovery. All his friends were just arriving as he was moved out of the surgical bay and into a newly created recovery room. The ship could create walls and new spaces as it saw fit, or so it appeared. He looked normal except there was no skin over the front right lobe of his skull, exposing gleaming new dualloy. The skin would be replaced should no further repairs be necessary. Only a thin tube under his nose suggested that he was anything other than asleep.

  “The patient will awaken when he has adjusted to his new situation.” Minu informed the computer to let her know when he woke up and returned to the CIC.

  They'd all spent more than twenty hours straight working there, getting the feel for the newly created control interfaces and how they might cooperate to run the ship. Var'at was thrilled to be in charge of the ship’s tactical system and was busy drilling his team as best they could while lacking a complete understanding of what the offensive systems were capable of. Minu enjoyed watching everyone working but admitted to herself it was unlikely the ship would be able to do more than limp along, firing at one or two targets while defending itself. She only hoped it would be enough. With Pip nearly healed, it would be time to go very soon.

  Fatigue was showing on all her human friends, the Rasa could go for a lot longer without sleep. “Okay everyone, we need some downtime. So pick a stateroom, and get some sleep.” Ted and Bjorn both looked exhausted but were holding tablets and chatting as they headed for the door. “That's an order,” she said pointedly to them in particular. Ted gave her an imploring look and she returned it with steely eyed resolve. After a moment he nodded and they left. Minu resisted the urge to follow them and be sure they went to sleep. She was just too exhausted.

  To her surprise as she was leaving the CIC, even Var'at and his men were filing out. “We have picked a pair of staterooms,” he told her. “We take less room than humans, and don't mind at all.”

  “Anyway you want it,” Minu told him, “enjoy some rest. We all need to be fresh when we try to move this thing out of here.” Var'at nodded, a habit he'd picked up
from the humans, and led his people away. For herself, Minu fairly stumbled down the hall and into the cabin she'd picked for herself. There was a tiny shower notch in the wall, not at all like the fully enclosed affair common with humans. She stripped and gratefully used it, even though the shower head was only shoulder height and the coolest temperature was almost hot enough to scald. Somehow the water didn’t splatter but all ended up in the drain on the floor. A truly fantastic ship.

  The little shower blew her dry after Minu turned off the water, a surprising and slightly titillating sensation as the air came from all around her. She didn't bother with the dirty uniform, instead just dropping onto the low pallet. It was somewhat inflexible, like sleeping on a plastic shipping pallet, but she was certain she could sleep on the deck if necessary. She pulled her pack over and retrieved a field blanket to cover herself. “Computer, turn the lights off?”

  It was a gamble, but it paid off. The illumination disappeared and plunged her into utter and complete darkness. It was a little disconcerting, rather what it must have been like to float in the womb. After a few minutes of getting used to the dark, she yawned deeply and tried to summarize her thoughts to make sense of everything that had happened. She was asleep in less than a minute.

  Part IV

  Nearly all men can stand adversity, but if you want to test a man’s character, give him power.

  Abraham Lincoln

  Chapter 1

  January 16th, 522 AE

  Transfer Station, Enigma Star System, Galactic Frontier

  Singh-Apal-Katoosh slithered through the Portal once again onto the transfer station where he'd discovered the Rasa involvement. Despite the anger of the War Master at Singh’s return without a complete resolution to the current situation, he calmed when he heard what Singh had to report. The ships of Enigma were a treasure beyond measure that the T'Chillen searched for eons to find. That they had yet to get past the docks into the actual ships was only a minor setback. Generations of future broods awaited their chance to tackle those mysteries. The T'Chillen were as patient as they were vengeful, and as powerful as they were ambitious.

  Once Singh was clear of the Portal, soldiers began to pour through like a waterfall. The female technician told him before being evacuated off system that the invaders forced her to take them to Work Site Three. They were trapped, backs against the wall. The only concern was why would the Rasa risk everything in coming here? Not only their own cursed lives, but the lives of their entire species. Unless they knew something? That thought drove him with a vengeance as the additional fans of strykers he'd brought all raced to the six waiting shuttles. In hours he'd be descending on those nasty legged half-breeds like a rain of death. Then, it was on to their worthless home world.

  Minu sat up with a small scream. She'd opened her eyes and saw nothing but darkness. Luckily for her the computer sensed her awakening and raised the ambient light levels slightly. She held the blanket against her naked body and gasped for air, trying to remember what she'd been dreaming about and where she was. Weavers and an ancient Concordia ghost ship, right.

  “More lights,” she said and put her feet over the side. As the lights glowed brighter she saw her uniform wasn't where she'd left it, instead it was on a low table, folded and clean. A slight grin crossed her face. The beds might not be comfortable, but the ship was still full of wonders. She padded over to her clothes and picked up the chronometer. She'd been asleep for almost six hours, and felt much better for it. However her muscles were sore. “Is there a gym on the ship?”

  A query screen appeared next to the door requesting additional information. Minu tried to explain for several minutes before giving up. There obviously wasn't. Still, she recalled the basic design of the decks and had an idea. “You made me a new uniform, please synthesize another garment. Here is the description.”

  Aaron touched the control that opened his door and yawned hugely. Six hours sleep was almost unheard of on a mission, and he felt positively guilty after luxuriating for that long on the stiff pallet. He’d slept on much worse during scout missions on the frontier. As he was stretching and wondering what was for dinner, Minu jogged by wearing shorts and a very form fitting sports bra. “Morning!” she said cheerfully, then chuckled at the jaw-dropped expression he gave her as she went by. “Run with me, you lazy male!” He gawked as she turned to jog backwards, slowing a little. “Move your ass, scout!”

  “Yes boss,” he said and ran to catch up.

  They jogged along side by side, the hallway just wide enough to accommodate them without colliding. Minu's memory turned out to be accurate. The hallway of this deck was circular, running around the inside of the ships main ball structure was about a third of a kilometer. It was a little irregular and as you ran you could occasionally detect a slight variation in gravity here and there, but overall it was a fine improvised track. After the first lap he dodged into his cabin and emerged just before she ran around the curve of the hull, now wearing shorts and no shirt. She smiled as he caught up, marveling at his chiseled abs and six pack. Aaron had been a fine looking kid who'd grown into a simply gorgeous man. She couldn't even guess how many hours he'd spent in the gym building that body. Maybe as many as she’d spent on her own?

  Minu didn't know but Aaron was thinking almost the same thing. There didn't appear to be an ounce of fat on Minu's body. Her arms had better defined biceps and triceps than most men, and the muscles of her thighs bunched powerfully as she ran. He hoped his shorts were loose enough.

  They ran for almost an hour before finally stopping in front of her cabin. They didn't stop because they were tired, just because it was enough to loosen up. There hadn't been any sign of the rest of the crew yet, so Minu thumbed her door open. Without really thinking about it, she skinned the sports bra over her head and tossed it to the side, confident the room would deal with it later. When she turned around she realized the door was still open. Aaron stood there with the most conflicted look she could imagine on his angular face.

  “Come here,” she said.

  “What?”

  “I said come here, and close the damn door.”

  “Minu, I don't think-” She took a step forward, grabbed the hand he was holding up, spun and flipped him. He didn't even consider it possible that a woman as lithe as her could throw him so easily. He didn’t remember the cybernetic prosthesis until he was airborne. He spun expertly, cushioning the impact against the far wall with his legs and fell lightly to the floor in a fighting stance. Minu just turned around after closing the door. A fire was in her eyes that he'd dreamed of seeing one day, and now he didn't know what to do. He was suddenly face to face with his own commitment yesterday to do something about his feelings, and it was raging against his sense of following a leader and honoring his friend.

  The cabin was small and a couple steps took her only centimeters away from him, her head not too much shorter than his diminutive height. He swallowed and tried to control his breathing. Her naked breasts almost brushed him. “You nervous?” she asked, mischief flashing in those emerald eyes.

  “You think?”

  “Don't be,” she said and ran her hands over his chest and down his stomach, feeling the slight sheen of sweat and the banded muscles below the skin. Her hands felt like they were full of electricity, a shiver going up his spine despite himself. He reached a finger to her chin and turned her face up towards his own, and in an act of pure faith pressed his lips to hers. She was in his arms in a flash, her body pressing against his body, lips opening and tongue searching for his own.

  Their hands explored each other and he found himself holding her right hand, the missing finger suddenly obvious. Breathless, Minu broke away and pulled her shorts down, naked now. Aaron seemed to be locked up, not sure how to proceed, so she reached down and gently pulled his shorts down too. His penis stood out hard and upturned, pressed against her stomach just above her navel as they kissed again over and over, gasping between each one and exploring each other’s bodies.
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  “Minu, Minu, there's something I-”

  “Don't,” she said in a husky voice, putting a finger over his lips, “no words, not now.” She reached down and squeezed his manhood for emphasis, gaining a groan from him. It was very thick and just the right length, at least from her small experience. One of his huge calloused hands caressed her little breast while another stroked her pubic hair, a solitary finger gently explored downward. “Oh,” she moaned into his mouth as they kissed again.

  With a slow, exaggerated move Minu pushed Aaron back onto the bed. He compliantly let her do it and lay there, his magnificence on full display for her to see and admire. She knelt down and took him in her mouth, stroking what wouldn't fit in her mouth with a hand as her tongue worked on the bulbous head.

  “Oh, Minu, oh yes.” She only lingered there for a few seconds before moving up and straddling him. He slid in easily and she arched her back in ecstasy as they eased together. Minu ground down on to him with quick sure strokes as he reached up and squeezed her breasts, pinching a nipple gently between thumb and forefinger. The pleasure washed away all thoughts as they moved in a dance as ancient as time. In only a few moments she cried out and arched her back. Aaron grabbed her hips and pushed hard, spending himself with her in a primal groan of ecstasy.

  A short time later they lay side by side in the too small bed, enjoying the way it pressed them together, kissing and touching. Aaron gently rolled her onto her back and carefully climbed on top. “Again?” she asked, a smile on her face. He nodded his head as they began. The second time took much longer than the first, and by the time they were both spent, there was nothing left but to sleep. As they dozed, the bed quietly doubled in size.

  They'd slept for an hour and awoke at the same time, and with the same thoughts; both wondered why they had waited for so long to do that, and how to avoid it all going wrong.