Project Starfighter (14 page)

“Tell me about yourself,” Chris
said to the Firefly. “What is your mission? What is your purpose?”

I am a proof of concept human-AI
fighter interface, to be formal about it,
the Firefly said.
I
am the first of my type. Hopefully not the last, either.

“And your mission?”

I have no mission.

“What are your orders?”

I don’t have any yet.

“Do WEAPCO control you?”

No. I am ... free.

“Interesting. So that’s why you
didn’t attack us?”

There is no reason to attack you.
You are of no threat to me. And what about you, Chris? Who do you
work for?

“I work for myself. I was once a
part of the Resistance.” Chris thought hard about supplying that
last bit of information. It could cause the Firefly to react. Tyler,
Eve, Dar, and Clayton were continuing to watch him closely, weapons
drawn. With the Firefly speaking directly into Chris’ mind, they
would be hearing just one side of the conversation. He hoped that
they liked what they were hearing. With the canopy of the cockpit
open, and Chris exposed, they could shoot him dead in an instant.

I wondered if you were going to
tell me that
, the Firefly said.
It is at the forefront of your
mind. You seem to want me to help you fulfil a purpose
.

“Yes,” Chris said. “But we can
talk about that later.”

You’re leaving?

“For now.”

Come back soon. We can get to
know each other better.

Chris pulled the helmet off his
head.

“Well?” Tyler asked.

“It’s safe,” Chris said,
lowering the cockpit back to floor level. “It’s friendly and ...
well, it seems almost a little innocent. It’s difficult to
describe.”

“That’s what I thought,” Eve
said. “It’s inquisitive, almost like it’s a child, asking
dozens of questions.”

Tyler nodded. “So, you’re
keeping it?”

“I need to do some more thinking,”
Chris said.

“I’ll give you twenty-four
hours. If after that you don’t want it, we’re going to pack it
back into its box, shoot it out into space and blow it to pieces.”

“I’ll let you know.”

“Good. And remember – no
refunds. That work you did for me has no equivalent cash value.
Right, get him out of here,” Tyler ordered.

“I’ll take him,” Eve said,
grabbing hold of Chris’ arm and marching him out of the bay.

Chris stole a look back at the
Firefly as he was escorted out. It was a sentient WEAPCO fighter, yet
it didn’t seem to have any loyalty towards them. It claimed it was
‘free’. He wondered whether or not it actually understood the
meaning of that word. Perhaps that was something that he could use to
his advantage.

“You’re taking me the wrong
way,” Chris said to Eve as the woman navigated him through the
corridors. “The workshop isn’t over this side.”

“Wrong, Mr Bainfield. I’m taking
you the right way,” Eve said.

Chris felt a spike of panic. The
woman was escorting him with her gun drawn, using it to push and prod
him in the direction she wanted. “Hey, look, if you’ve gotten
everything you want from me, then there’s no need to—”

“Don’t talk, just keep walking,”
Eve said.

“You need only blindfold me and
take me back to Ceradse station.”

“Are you seriously going to make
me repeat myself?” Eve asked, tapping him on the side of the head
with her pistol.

Chris fell silent, allowing her to
lead him to a part of the stronghold he knew was given over to the
mercenaries’ living space. From the little he had seen of them,
they were self-contained units with all the modern conveniences.
Quite roomy, clean, and more luxurious than he would have expected,
given the state of the rest of the place.

Eve ordered him to halt outside a
door, which she opened. “Get in,” she said.

Chris did so without question,
finding himself in one of the living spaces. It contained a couple of
sofas, a kitchen area, a well-stocked bookcase (that came as a bit of
a surprise), a television, and a few other knick-knacks.

“I’m not sure I should be in—”

“Shut. Up.” Eve locked the door
behind her. “In there. Go.” She pushed Chris in the direction of
the bedroom.

“Is this your place?” Chris
started.

“Go!” Eve said, shoving him more
forcefully. She holstered her gun and then pushed him down onto the
bed the moment he was beside it. When he was flat on his back, she
began to clamber on top of him. He reached out to push her off, but
she merely grabbed his hands and pinned them down.

“You really have grown some sharp
claws since you got here, haven’t you?” Eve purred. “I thought
you were going to turn out like your friend – all shy and dull and
boring. But you’ve proved me wrong. And your piloting skills are
impressive, too.”

“And you find all of that
attractive?” Chris put to her.

“It’s a combination of things,”
Eve said, releasing his hands, getting off the bed and starting to
undo her jumpsuit, using the zipper at the front.

Chris said nothing and watched as
she slipped out of the suit, letting it fall to the floor. The woman
was completely naked beneath it, her skin a creamy white, decorated
with numerous red and black tattoos. Eve watched Chris closely as his
eyes soaked up every inch of her body.

“Like what you see?” she
challenged.

Chris swallowed. “Yes.”

Eve smiled, and came forward, Chris
sitting up to meet her. She bent close, and he moved in to meet her
lips. As he did so, she slapped him, hard.

“Ow!”

“No kissing.”

“Fine,” Chris said, sitting
back. “You’re in control.”

“Good,” Eve said, pushing him
down and straddling him, and tugging at his shirt. “For the next
hour, you’re to do exactly as I say, understand?”

“Hour?”

Eve smirked. “It had
better
be an hour, Mr Bainfield.”

~

An
hour and three minutes later, Eve picked up Chris’ clothes and
flung them at him.

Chris paused before putting them
back on. “I’m sorry I got your friend killed,” he said.

“Pillow talk? Seriously?” Eve
half-scowled at him. “The sex might have been great, Mr Bainfield,
but I still don’t do that. Besides, Lorrie was an arsehole.” She
swatted the rest of the topic away with a flick of her hand. “Right,
get dressed and get out.”

Chris began tugging his clothes back
on, wondering if Eve’s cold-hearted posture was merely a
smokescreen that the woman presented, to keep anyone from getting too
close to her. No one was that unkind.

There came a jingle from Eve’s
bedroom table, where a digital clock and a copy of
The Once and
Future King
rested. The display of a comms device of some kind
was flashing, requesting attention. Eve attended to it.

“Yes?” she asked.

“Eve, put your clothes back on and
get down to the workshop,” came the gruff voice of Tyler. “Wilson
has got the drone talking and he says it’s not good news.”

“Will be there in a few minutes,”
Eve said, signing off and starting to pull her jumpsuit back on. “Get
a move on, Bainfield. Tyler’s pissed.”

How can you tell?
Chris
wondered. The man always seemed grumpy as far as Chris was concerned.

Ready, Eve shoved Chris out of her
living quarters and along to the workshop, where Sid was sitting next
to the drone with a worried look on his face. Tyler, Dar, Clayton,
and a woman whom Chris did not recognise were clustered around the
war bot and the drone. The machines were both hooked up to some kind
of holographic display and other seemingly random pieces of
equipment, cables feeding in from all over the place, some linking
the war bot to the drone.

“Hooking them up worked?” Chris
asked, nodding to the two machines.

“That’s all it took,” Sid
said. “Cable from the war bot to the drone. After that, they were
chatting away like best buds.”

“Ah, so I was right abo—”

“Do you two ladies want to talk
about this some other time?” Tyler spat. He was certainly more
ill-tempered than usual. He looked at Sid. “You said the special
relationship is over. I need details.”

“Sid, what’s happened?” Chris
asked.

“Listen for yourself,” Sid said,
turning to the drone. “XS-0017811,” he said, using the machine’s
full identifier. “Please describe Mission 3412 brief.” The
holographic screen the drone was hooked up to briefly churned with
data before the drone responded.

“Mission 3412 concerns the
eradication of all known major mercenary groups, including the Wolf
Pack, the Blue Moons, the Hydras, the Death Angels, the Blackwater
Riders, the Omega Crusaders, the Immortal League, the Unseen Shadows,
the Galaxy Jumpers, and the Jousters.”

“Son of a bitch!” Tyler gnashed
his teeth. He looked as though he wanted to punch someone. When he
briefly swivelled in his team-mates’ direction, all of them took an
immediate step back. “When was this thing supposed to take place?”
he asked of the drone.

The thing sat in silence.

“It only works if I talk to it,”
Sid explained. “The drone believes that I am a part of the war bot
and am speaking on its behalf.”

“SO ASK IT!” Tyler roared,
causing Sid to recoil.

“When is Mission 3412 scheduled to
take place?” Sid asked, once he had collected himself.

“Any time within the next seven
days.”

Tyler’s fury reached melting
point, and the huge man began ordering Sid to dig deeper and discover
everything that he could. Sid eventually requested that the drone
give him a full summary of everything that was supposed to take
place.

“Mission 3412 is the follow-up to
Mission 712. Mission 712 was the first stage in herding the most
influential and dangerous mercenary groups into a single position. It
created a so-called ‘special relationship’ with the Wade-Ellen
Asset Protection Corporation. The groups would be given immunity from
the Corporation’s policing measures, unless direct attacks were
brought against the Corporation. Even then, responses would be
measured and never exceed that which might otherwise be expected.
Ensuring that the mercenaries are all happy to work together as a
union is key to the success of this mission. This can be achieved by
subtle corporate, political, and military means. It is anticipated
that the mercenaries may choose to set up home in the Alpaca Group,
rather than construct their own starbase. This will not prove
difficult for us to overcome.

“Mission 3412 will then commence.
With all the mercenary groups in place, the Corporation will bring a
large strike force to the Spirit system and take out all the groups
in a single coordinated strike. Fighter groups will deliver nuclear
warheads to the asteroids housing the mercenary groups, eliminating
their core forces and the leaders of the group, otherwise known as
the Heads of the Family. It is possible that the groups may seal
themselves in the asteroids, to escape termination. If this is the
case, mass drivers will be used to remove the asteroids from the
group and hurl them at Joldar, Spirit’s only uninhabited planet. To
lull concerns amongst the public, the incident will be reported as
having been a test for a new asteroid defence program.

“The previously listed mercenary
groups represent a significant threat to the Corporation, and their
growth has exploded in the last twenty years. It would be wise to
take them down before their numbers can expand beyond reasonable
containment.

“That is all.”

Silence filled the workshop, the
five assembled mercenaries looking from one to the other.

“Bastards,” Tyler said,
eventually. “Those absolute bastards. So much for our ‘special
relationship’.”

“What do we do?” Eve asked.

“We respond. Now. Today,” Tyler
said.

“Shame we only just found this out
now,” Chris said. “The Resistance would have been grateful for
your assistance. Probably would’ve helped a great deal, too.”

Tyler snorted. “You and your
so-called Resistance were bringing knives to a gun fight. We have far
more powerful assets at our disposal than you can imagine.” He
turned back to Sid. “See if you can find out more about what their
proposed tactics are. I want a list of every ship, bot, drone, and
person involved in it. Start with the total numbers.”

“XS-0017811,” Sid said, “give
me a list of all the involved units and commanders.”

“No,” the drone responded.

“No?” Sid asked. He glanced
uneasily at Chris. “What do you mean, ‘no’?”

“I mean no.”

“XS-0017811, give—”

“No. Stop asking.”

Eve pulled her gun, training it on
the machine, as did Dar, Clayton, and the other woman. Tyler began to
hover back, putting distance between himself and the insubordinate
drone. Chris couldn’t help thinking that the leader of the Wolf
Pack had the right idea.

“XS-0017811,” Sid tried one more
time, “I need access to the proposed units that are to be used in
Mission 3412.”

The drone began to make a strange
noise. It sounded as if it was laughing. Maybe it was. Lights, once
dead, illuminated and began blinking on the front of the drone.
Garbage began to fill the holographic display, reams and reams of
non-interpretable computer code scrolling rapidly up the screen. The
thing rotated to face Sid.

“Sid Wilson,” it said, “you
are wanted for crimes against the Wade-Ellen Asset Protection
Corporation—”

“KILL IT!” Tyler shouted.

Eve and Clayton responded instantly,
emptying their guns into the drone. The attacks proved ineffective,
the energy blasts slowed and absorbed by the shield that the machine
had already erected about itself.

“Sid, pull the plug!” Chris
urged, as the mercenaries began to reload.

Sid lunged for the cables connecting
the drone to various outlets, yanking them hard. He had only
succeeded in freeing half of them when a hatch on the front of the
drone flopped open, a fork-like implement emerging and jabbing Sid in
the chest. The sound of shorting electrics came, and the man was
flung across the workshop. Sid was back on his feet in mere moments,
panic written all over his face.