Read Icarus (Interstellar Cargo Book 1) Online
Authors: Matt Verish
Tags: #firefly, #Adventure, #space exploration, #action, #Space Opera, #dark matter, #icarus, #artificial intelligence
Icarus (Interstellar Cargo Book 1) (10 page)
Cole wanted to trust her. He really did. He stood, gazing down at her. “I’ve no doubt you’re telling the truth, Doc.” He gestured toward the viewport to where the terraformer awaited them like an unscalable mountain. “But I don’t care how smart you are; no one can consider
all
the variables.” He started for the lift. “I learned that lesson fifteen years ago.”
“Thank you.”
Cole stopped in mid-stride. “That wasn’t meant as a compliment.”
She joined his side. “For everything you’ve done thus far, I am in your debt.” She met his gaze. “And I promise to explain everything once my father is safe.”
Cole took a deep, breath.
Women
. “None of us is safe, Doc. You’re meddling in affairs much bigger than the four of us.”
There was a defiant glint in her eyes. “Someone had to sooner or later.”
Where did that come from?
They rode the lift down and exited the ship just as a solitary figure was entering the bay. Forester was nowhere to be seen. The elderly ambassador wore a drab, gray suit with an equally dull white vest. The silver pin on his lapel was in the shape of the “recycled planet,” indicating his allegiance. Despite his nod of understanding, there was obvious distrust etched into his tired countenance.
“There isn’t much time,” the unnamed ambassador said in a gravelly voice. “There’s no telling how long before the entire planet turns to rioting.”
Cole laughed aloud. “
All
the variables, she says.”
Lin scowled at him. “Is my father well?” she asked the man.
The ambassador gave a reverent nod to Lin. “The Singularity eagerly awaits your arrival.”
He speaks of Lin’s father as though he were some sort of prophet.
That instantly ignited Cole’s ire. “He awaits
us
? So sorry to inconvenience him, Terracom Tom, but we’re kinda in a rush.” He presented the ICV-71 with a flourish. “Might Professor Dartmouth do us the courtesy of coming to
us
?”
The ambassador was not amused. He crossed his arms behind his back and straightened his posture, his attention still upon Lin. “Your fool is ill-informed.”
Lin blushed and would not meet Cole’s gaze. “My father is unable come to us.” She produced a small vial from within her lab coat and presented it to him as though it would explain everything. “First I will need to free him from his glass prison.”
“Yeah, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
The ambassador turned on his heel to leave. “You will learn soon enough.”
Cole pointed after him. “Is Terracom Tom actually helping us, or is he leading us to a trap?”
Lin followed the ambassador out of the landing bay, her Rook hovering in tow. “We have no choice but to trust him.”
I don’t have to trust anyone.
Cole sighed and caught up with her.
The trio made their way down a long, narrow tunnel which led toward the base of the monolith terraformer. Every step Cole took away from the ship, the more vulnerable he felt. His life depended upon the word of a stranger wearing the enemy’s coat of arms, the convoluted plan of a mute engineer whose father’s name was The Singularity, and a defective AI pilot. All he had were his instincts and a smart mouth to combat the juggernaut, gangster corporation.
Cole and Lin were led through a series of well-lit hallways and offices—all of which were strangely vacant and constructed of translucent material—and eventually into another corridor which ended at a massive glass door. Cole looked back, having remembered very little of their path.
“Isn’t there any security, or staff of any kind...besides you?”
“Workers and debtors alike have migrated below,” came the simple yet haunting response. “A physical security presence is limited as it is mostly unneeded on an inescapable planet.”
Cole couldn’t help but think that the “migration” was much more complicated than the ambassador was leading on. Were the dormitories somehow segregated? Or did criminal and employees share the same rooms? If the latter was the case, who led who underground?
Stay alert, Cain,
he thought, hoping the AI was paying attention to his thoughts like before.
We might need your help finding our way back to you before long.
A wave of relief washed away some of Cole’s anxiety. He stepped through the thick glass door, wondering how CAIN was able to crack Terracom’s heavily encrypted computer system.
And yet he can’t fly the ship.
“Dammit!” Cole shouted, startled by the unexpected response. Both Lin and the ambassador spun toward him, their eyes wide. Cole scratched inside his ear as though he had an itch. “Sorry about that. I, uh, thought I saw a spider.”
The ambassador’s face was red. “DC-Alpha-6 is completely sterile and bereft of any and all organism not of human origin.”
Cole rubbed the back of his neck, not willing to tell the truth about CAIN’s mind-reading ability. “You never know. I mean, it’s not like we went through any purifying process prior to entering this place.”
The elderly man’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Normally we would undergo such a process, but these are extraordinary circumstances.” He cleared his throat loudly and continued into the room.
Lin’s expression was sympathetic. She waited until the ambassador was a few feet away before her Rook hovered in close to him and whispered, “I can also hear CAIN.”
Cole could feel her breath near his neck. He nodded, offering no verbal reply. The door slid closed behind him, emitting a distinct, heavy suction as it locked. He could only hope that CAIN’s infiltration of Terracom’s security mainframe was as widespread as indicated.
“This is a Recall room,” the ambassador said of the empty, enclosed space. “All debtors must pass through a similar room if they are to leave this planet. Any unpaid debt will be immediately recognized and Terracom will extract fulfillment the moment anyone steps foot inside.” He met Cole’s gaze, acknowledging his skepticism. “Only a Monitor—such as myself—with the express permission of the company, can permit debtors.”
“And why don’t debtors just kill you and drag your body through this closet?” He could almost feel Lin’s eyes widen.
The ambassador seemed appalled at the notion. “My body has nothing to do with the process.” He tapped his temple with his index finger. “Murdering me will only result in a debtor’s simultaneous death. And even if they somehow managed to survive, they can’t remove a personalized thought from my mind. What’s more, the system only recognizes my brain wave patterns, so if anyone learns my code to safely unlock and escape through the Recall room, it will be denied, and the transgressor—”
“Will be killed,” Cole finished, exasperated. “Yeah, I got it. Terracom are masters of the slaving industry.”
The ambassador shook his head, disappointed. “No. They will accrue further debt. We aren’t butchers like most of the System believes.”
“You’re right; you’re all saints.” Cole grinned but felt nothing but contempt. “But you’re a traitor.”
The ambassador raised his chin at the blunt designation but kept quiet. He headed toward the door at the other side of the room and stopped just short of reaching it. “Regardless of what you think about me, I am at peace with my decision.” The door slid open. “And I fully support the Singularity’s cause.”
“So why not just let him out yourself?” Cole asked, honestly curious. “The Terraport is out of commission, and you have complete authority to do as you wish. What’s holding you back?”
The ambassador looked at Lin, then back at Cole. “I believe Dr. Dartmouth already explained the reason to you.” He stepped over the threshold.
“You did?” Cole asked Lin.
“Retinal Branding.” The engineer pointed to her eyes as she continued into the next room.
Suddenly the small vial and the glass prison comment made sense. Cole couldn’t stop the chill from tracing its icy finger up his spine. He had heard tales of such barbaric practices taking place, but he assumed them to be rumors and nothing more. He had a very strong urge to remove his Ocunet lenses right then and there, but his hosts were waiting for him. He blinked once, then twice before entering the belly of the terrabeast.
SINGULARITY
T
he Ocunet was the single most important invention of the first half of the twenty second century. And while close to one hundred years had passed since its inception—along with countless minor refinements and updates—the simple-yet-complex computer lens had largely remained unchanged. Paired with the ingenious Neurological Fidelity, or NuFi for short, the Ocunet could transmit information across the vast reaches of space through a set of strategically placed moon-sized satellites. With a flick of haptic gloves and/or even a thought, information could be accessed throughout the Milky Way.
Nearly every living being wore the Ocunet lenses, sharing in the endless digital wealth. All manner of entertainment, business, and education was conducted through the eyes, eradicating most physical hardware and software for good. Such ease of information access was pivotal in the space age of exploration.
But as the light of the technical marvel shown bright, its resulting brilliance cast the inevitable dark shadow. The coveted Ocunet was a gateway for the obsessed and the criminally motivated. As such, there were instances of permanent lens development to overcome the monotony of everyday lens application. Those who ventured down this dangerous path risked blindness and permanent brain damage. And then there were the stories of Retinal Branding, a highly controversial technique employed to fuse the technology directly upon the eye and tap the nerves which directly sent information to the brain. This method had always been rumored to be practiced by Terracom as a means of controlling and monitoring debtors, though no factual evidence of its usage was known to exist. Those few who actually paid off their debt refused to discuss their time under Terracom for fear of a remotely activated death. The widely derided procedure was simply labeled the “glass prison.”
And it was the glass prison in which Professor Kingston Dartmouth found himself. Cole and Lin met the septuagenarian outside the entrance to the terraformer itself, and he seemed in good spirits despite his hopeless predicament. He embraced Lin, a genuine smile on his lean face. Long silver locks hung loose behind his ears, reaching the tops of his shoulders. His salt and pepper beard was close-cropped and surprisingly well groomed. For a man supposedly spending the remainder of his retirement years working himself to death, he seemed in excellent health.
It’s almost like he’s been spared the brunt of the back-breaking work,
Cole thought as he watched Lin cling to her father. Just who was the Singularity, and how did he receive such an enigmatic title?
“I had begun to worry,” Kingston said to Lin in a clear, rich voice. He pulled away from her and looked down at her with eyes of the same green. “The uprising began far sooner than anticipated. Tension is high within the dormitories beneath the pillar.”
Lin wiped her eyes dry and produced the vial she had shown Cole earlier. “We won’t have to contend with any of the violence.” She passed the bottle to Kingston.
The professor admired the vial, relief softening the lines of his face. He smiled before removing the stopper and exposing the hidden dropper within. Tipping back his head, he positioned the bottle and pressed several drops into each eye, quickly blinking back the clear fluid from running down his cheeks. He stared off at nothing for a short time, his brow tight with concentration. Then he faced his daughter, his eyes alight. “You’re a remarkable woman, Lin.”
Cole stepped forward, done with floundering in the dark. “Sorry to interrupt your touching reunion, Doc, but what just happened?”
Kingston studied Cole. “My daughter has freed me.”
Cole frowned. “That vial reversed the retinal branding?” It was more of a statement than question. “How is that possible? I was under the impression this particular organic coding was permanently etched into the whole of the eye itself. It’s not like you can just wash it out with some tepid water.”
Father and daughter shared an amused look. Kingston held out his hand as though presenting his daughter to Cole. “I defer to you, Lin.”
Lin blinked. “During my research in cryorganics and nanobiotechnology, I developed an artificially intelligent nanotech solution which scours away any offending organic circuitry and leaves behind a reparative saline compound which settles into the etched surface of the lens, subsequently repairing the eye. The tears ducts aid in flushing out the waste.”
Even as Cole was assimilating the given explanation, Kingston was dabbing a handkerchief at his eyes. “How do you know it worked?”
“Because, Captain,” the ambassador said from behind, “I can no longer detect him in our database.” He moved forward and extended his hand, shaking Kingston’s in a congratulatory manner. “You’re free, Professor.”
She’s a damn genius!
“Trust me when I say this is very impressive,” Cole said, staring out the door from which they came, “but we need to leave before the Terraport goes back online and notices their main source of labor is in full riot mode.”
Lin nodded. “Father, the ICV-71 is operational and ready to take us away.” She collected his hand in hers. “It’s time for you to finish what you started.”
Kingston gazed down at her delicate fingers and gently pulled away. “There is one last item to which I must attend.”
Uh oh.
A shadow of confusion passed over Lin’s face. “You...you aren’t prepared to leave?”
Kingston turned his back on his daughter and headed for the stairs leading up toward the heart of the terraformer. “The task is paramount in igniting this planet’s revolution. It could only be performed upon your arrival.” The door slid open and he walked inside.
Lin glanced nervously between Cole and the ambassador. “Revolution?” she asked aloud. She hurried after Kingston. “I insist we leave.”