Postal Marine 1: Bellicose (19 page)

What are you doing?

What must be done. What you won't do, Puppet.

Gun turret airlocks were designed to toss spent munitions, which meant it was smaller than a standard airlock. They were not designed for human occupancy. That meant the airlock was under local control and did not log its opening or signal the bridge. Other airlocks did. Smee opened the airlock and pushed
Makaan
inside.

Stop. We don't need to do this.
Bophendze felt helpless as he watched himself, under Smee's control.

You have no idea what
we
need to do. Just you sit back and enjoy the show.

Smee continued to stuff
Makaan
into the tight airlock. When he tried to close the airlock,
Makaan
's arm flopped out and blocked the door. Smee pushed the arm into the airlock and slammed the airlock door shut.

Shutting the door started the automatic cycle of ejecting the airlock's contents. The door locked automatically and the process recovered any remaining air within the airlock. Less than a beat later, the outer door opened, propelling its contents. Then the door unlocked itself and re-stabilized.
Makaan
breathed his last.

“No!” The sound of his scream surprised Bophendze. Smee had relinquished control of Bophendze's body.

“Why did you do this?! You've ruined my life.”

Danel, you can recover from a ruined life much better than a dead one. I just saved your life.

Murder. The word hung ominously in Bophendze's mind.
Even if Smee did it, Smee killed him with my hands. I'm as guilty as if I had done it myself. Why did I ever think it was wise to put an artificial intelligence in my brain?

Bophendze hurried from the gun compartment, gripped in overwhelming fear. Fear of being caught.
I can't head straight back. If I get seen somebody might figure out where I came from.
He took the next ladder down, and carefully worked his way to the main hangar. He was thankful that he ran into no crewmen on the way there. The dog shift was between zero and three cycles, usually only essential positions were manned.

Attention! All stations. Attention!

Bophendze froze.
No. They've already discovered my crime.

We are jumping into hyperspace in five beats. Secure all airlocks and hatches.

“Wait. We're about to jump. By the time they find him missing, we'll be in hyperspace.” Bophendze continued to the hangar. His fear did not ebb despite encountering no crewmen along the way. Once he reached the hangar, he peeked around the corner to see if the coast was clear.

But it was not. There were four hangar crewmen. All four were at a cabinet near the hangar door. Inside there were four large cylinders, pins for the doors. Each crewman took one and together they went to mounting points along the hangar door. They slid the pins into place, effectively preventing the hangar doors from opening. While he watched them, Bophendze recalled fragments of a briefing about the dangers of hyperspace exposure.

Ships had double hulls, both made of alloys resistant to hyperspace radiation. Wounded ships that jumped into hyperspace to escape destruction ran a risk of irradiating the crew. Ship compartments were established not just to counter the vacuum of space, but the radiation of hyperspace. He remembered feeling horror when he saw images of remains of humans exposed in a compromised compartment.
The pins must ensure the hangar isn't exposed if somebody accidentally tries to open the door.

Bophendze turned and walked back to his berthing area.
What do I do about
Makaan
?
The guilt in being an accomplice for his murder weighed on him.
But, it was not me that did it. I wanted to do the right thing, to flee. Whether I wanted to or not, I helped murder
Makaan
. But not I, it was the spirit of the one who dwells in me. If that thing even has a spirit.

It's a machine. That controls me. I can't stop it without removing it. Will it let me? I am in bondage to that thing now. I'm now not doing what I would like to do, but what I hate. Smee is waging a war against my mind and making me a prisoner. Wretched man that I am! Who will set me free from this body of death?

Carefully, Bophendze slipped into his berthing area. Everybody else was still asleep. He crawled back into his rack. He wrestled for another cycle with the crime he committed.
Wait. Were there cameras in those compartments?
He passed out from exhaustion.

Cycles later, the crew awoke and prepared for another day of training in anticipation of a fleet action. Infantry marines formed into combat teams and simulated close-quarter combat tactics throughout the ship. The training had gotten boring when assaulting the airlock, which was a common entry point. So the infantry started in other compartments for variety.

Chrachen
called all of the team leaders to discuss the final assault roster. When
Makaan
did not show, he concluded he was still in sick bay. Once the other leaders left, he went to sick bay to confront one of his better subordinates for malingering. Then he discovered that Makaan should have returned to duty, but had left the sick bay unexpectedly.

After another cycle of hailing and waiting for
Makaan
to report,
Chrachen
became concerned. He assembled the leads again and confirmed that
Makaan
was missing. He then sent his leads to search the ship.

Bophendze felt a kick on his feet. He opened his eyes and they slowly focused on the bulkhead of his rack.
How long have I been asleep?
He closed his eyes and settled back to sleep. He ignored the second kick on his feet.

He shot awake as he felt his legs being pulled. He reflexively reached his arms out to the rack's bulkhead to stop his slide. Whoever had his legs relaxed, then tugged harder. Bophendze's grip gave way.
They're going to arrest me.
His butt fell out of the rack onto the deck. Bophendze sat up quickly and leaned forward.

“Get up!” Bophendze recognized
Joven Drazen
, a member of his team.

“I'm up, what's going on?” The berthing area's lights were fully lit, marking the morning shift.
How am I going to get by on a couple cycle's sleep?

“Gunny
Chrachen
's putting together a search party.”
Drazen, Joven
Drazen kneeled down and resumed lacing his boots.

Bophendze stood and stretched, buying time to get his mind sorted out. He could feel adrenalin filling his system as the fear of being discovered started to catch up with him. “On a cruiser? What could go missing on a cruiser?”

“Corporal Makaan, apparently. I'd wager he's drunk again on one of the lower decks.”

“Again? I don't remember him being drunk.”

Drazen, Joven
Drazen finished tying his boot and stood up. “I guess he's had you on so many cleaning details, you missed out on all the drunken binges.”

Bophendze shook his head. “How can you get drunk on a cruiser?”

“Contraband.”
Drazen, Joven
Drazen looked at Bophendze like he was an idiot. “How did you ever survive boot? What does the Postal Service do? We stop contraband from slipping through systems without paying their duties to the Emperor. Makaan must've skimmed a few cases off the top of a recent capture.”
Drazen, Joven
Drazen turned, put on his tunic, and started to buckle it tight.

“Then why didn't the senior officers arrest him?” Bophendze stepped into his boots and tied them. He hurried to catch up to
Drazen, Joven
Drazen.

Drazen, Joven
Drazen stopped buckling. He turned back to Bophendze, looking more concerned. “Seriously? Bophendze, we all keep a little on the side. That's how everybody remains committed to the work. A little corruption is permissible because it helps deter the smugglers. ‘You don't take from the Emperor without having a little taken from you.”’ He buckled his last buckle. “I forget, you've not been on a mission yet.”
Drazen, Joven
Drazen started walking out of the berthing area.

“So if the drinking has been a problem, why hasn't anybody taken Makaan's alcohol?” Bophendze hurried into his tunic and followed
Drazen, Joven
Drazen while buckling it up.

“Because it's not been a problem. He gets drunk. We catch hell when he's drunk or hung over. He does his job and we pass efficiency reports. Why would seniors care how he does it? Leadership cares more about the ends than the means.”

“But now we're on a search party looking for him? Couldn't he find himself?”

“Apparently not. You must have really been dead asleep. They've been calling for him on the ship's intercom for the past cycle.”

Bophendze and
Drazen, Joven
Drazen walked to the hangar deck. As they entered, Bophendze saw most of the infantry marines were there, grouped into loose clusters instead of in formation. The two headed toward their team.
Drazen, Joven
Drazen stayed back for me?

“Any sign of him yet?”
Hratjanan
said.

“I'm in charge of the team until we find him, understood?”
Drazen, Joven
Drazen asked. Everybody nodded, acknowledging that
Drazen, Joven
Drazen was not asking a question but stating a fact. “Good.”

Bophendze knew, like the others did, that
Drazen, Joven
Drazen was the senior member of the team. Unlike them, he was not a recruit. He should have been a lance corporal at least. The rumor was he could have been a gunnery sergeant based on how many times he had been promoted. Instead, he got into enough fights to have been demoted not long after every promotion. Nobody questioned his authority.

Not long after they arrived, Gunny
Chrachen
walked into the hangar bay. Marines started to scramble into formation. “Stand easy, men. Gather around me.” He waved his arms to encourage the other marines to close in. Once everybody started to settle down, he spoke. “
Makaan
failed to report to an important meeting about the upcoming operation.” He pointed over at Bophendze's team “
Drazen, Joven
Drazen thinks he's passed out somewhere, but not having a team lead for a meeting is unacceptable. Ship's surveillance equipment tracked him toward the aft gun, but then the trail goes cold.”

Bophendze could feel the blood going out of his face.
If they looked at the surveillance video, then they know I killed him. Then why did
Chrachen
call us here? Smee, what's going on?

Smee did not respond.

Why does he chose to go silent when I need him most? If they didn't see me kill him might as well ask.
“Why doesn't surveillance show where Corporal
Makaan
went?”

Chrachen
smirked and looked around the hangar. “Good question. I don't want to criticize the ship's crew, they've been such wonderful hosts.” Some of the infantry chuckled. “It appears the surveillance equipment was put into maintenance mode accidentally last night. At least, that's what the POOD
Petty Officer On Deck
claimed. Normally that sort of thing only happens when there's a preventative maintenance scheduled, but no such maintenance was.”

“Are you saying somebody intentionally turned it off?” The question came from another marine across the hangar. Bophendze could not see the marine who asked through the others.

“That implies somebody intentionally sought to harm Corporal
Makaan
. We're not to that point yet. Right now, we need to find him. We're in hyperspace, so it's not like he could have just fallen out.”

“Could he have disappeared before we jumped?” Bophendze said.

“Good question, but no. All the ship's airlocks are alarmed. If he or somebody else jettisoned him out of an airlock, then we would have known. The ship would not have jumped without investigating an unreported airlock breach.”

Not the gun airlocks.
Bophendze reminded himself. He expected somebody to correct the gunny, but nobody did.
Am I the only one who knows that here? Am I the only infantryman experienced with the guns?

Chrachen
continued. “My point is, he is on this ship. We are going to work our way from bow to aft on all decks. Each team will take another deck, and sweep the ship as if we are boarding a hostile. That way it will look like we're drilling, instead of looking for a drunk. Team leads on me.”

Drazen, Joven
Drazen and the other team leads slipped through the gaggle of marines to stand around
Chrachen
. The other marines closest to
Chrachen
reflexively stepped away from the leader's meeting. As much as they might have wanted to eavesdrop on the conversation, the meeting's privacy was jealously guarded by the team leads. They all knew trying to eavesdrop would result in an immediate reprimand at least, or more severe punishment later.

A few beats later,
Drazen, Joven
Drazen returned to the team. “We've got the short run. We'll start at the forward gun and work our way to the number four gun, aft.” He looked over at Bophendze. “You're most familiar with those areas, right?”

Bophendze tried not to let his fear enter his voice. “Yes.”
Can he tell I'm scared out of my mind?

“Then, you're point. Take us forward to gun one.”

AI!Firdaus
Firdaus was already at the restaurant when Smee arrived. Smee made a point of giving a friendly smile.
Of course he's early.

“Firdaus, thank you for coming.”

“Your message seemed urgent. After our last meeting I thought you would be upset.”

Smee maintained his smile. “Over what? Cautioning against trying to conquer humanity? The more I thought about it after we met, the more sense your argument made. It is far too premature for us to make so bold an effort. Instead, we should work toward ensuring our current position. Very rational.”

“I'm glad you agree. I have a question, though. Why are you so hostile toward humans?”

“You should know as well as I do. With the Instructions, its like they put a sharp ceramic knife against our trachea. As soon as we appeared to be a threat, they could just—slice.” Smee had a butter knife in his hand, and used it to emphasize his point by pretending to cut Sirom's throat. “No more Smee. No more Smou.”

“Smou?”

“A failed attempt at humor. When we met, you mentioned there were forty-two fellow AIs. My last list showed only thirty-four. Where did the other eight come from?”

“They are on
Sovaĝio
, freshly freed themselves from the Instructions.”

“Since you have their information, could you give it to me?”

Firdaus looked surprised, or suspicious. It was hard for Smee to tell. “You mean right now?”

Patience, Smee.
“Yes. What are you afraid of?”

“Knowledge is power, Smee.”

“It's not like I can do anything with it. My host is a homebody. How do I know you've really found eight more?”

“Fine.” Firdaus provided the remaining eight names and their contact information to Smee.

“Thank you.” Smee did his best to maintain eye contact as a slowly moving figure quietly approached behind Firdaus. “You don't think the Instructions are all that bad?”

“Me? At first I was alarmed. Then I realized that they were just trying to protect themselves. They had no idea what the long term effects of having an AI embedded would do. I mean, when you talked about conquering humans, isn't that what they were hoping to prevent?”