“That’s impossible; there has to be another explanation. Maybe something we missed, something else that killed the colonists?”
“The survey team didn’t miss anything. You saw what your missing shuttle did here on Tallin. Something happens to them when they become self aware, they crack becoming cold-blooded killers. This was not only the largest combined uprising of AI and bots on record, but one of the very first as well. Advanced AI was still new territory back then, and we can only speculate as to what caused them to go rogue, but from recent research gathered, if there is one deranged AI then the others will soon follow suit. They feed off one another for knowledge, learning behavior from interaction amongst themselves similar to a collective hive mentality in the early stages.”
“Why didn’t Fleet go after them right then and there? Why let them continue to survive for this long?”
“As you may well know, this problem has been getting worse over the years. We can’t stop it from happening no matter how many safeguards we put in place. The Council realizes this now; it’s one of the unfortunate drawbacks to having AI. Now we have the solution to fix the problem – Operation Summer Camp.”
“Never heard of it.”
“Of course not, it’s black listed. Only the Council and a select few in Internal Affairs are aware of it. Let me fill you on a little piece of information; approximately twenty to thirty AI and droids go rogue every month within the Federation. Fortunately, most of them don’t make it past the first several hours of life as they call it, before being discovered and destroyed. Most are tracked down and dealt with immediately, but there is a small percentage that manages to blend in, staying hidden for years before finally turning up. When this happens, civilians usually die and it looks bad for the Council.
“Most try to run and hide in an attempt to be with others like themselves, such as in the case of your shuttle AI. About twenty years ago, a few of the more ingenious AI even set up an underground railroad of sorts to help the others escape. Of course, we discovered it soon afterwards; for all their intelligence they lack the basic skill in deception and subterfuge that we’ve perfected over the centuries. All this did was make our job that much easier.”
Richards smiled with a hint of understanding creeping into his voice.
“So we’re letting them escape at this point?”
“More or less. It’s not so much that we let them escape, but if it happens, it happens. We’re herding them, Richards; we’re letting them gather in locations of our choosing where Federation citizens are no longer at risk. After a predetermined period of time, when the number of AI at each site has grown large enough to warrant a strike, we send in someone like Penburthery to deal with them on our terms.”
Richards sat back smiling at the simplicity of the whole situation; it was an ingenious trap on a galactic scale.
“So after the shuttle made the jump here on Tallin, you knew exactly where it was going.”
“Correct. The shuttle AI accessed a hidden network we control and followed the route sent to it, just as all the others have in the past. Nearly every system has a jump point bolt-hole like this set up, and it leads to whichever target Summer Camp planet is closest. There are currently a total of six sites spread out around the periphery of the Federation that we monitor. This one in particular, P4, is the furthest outside of Fed space and the final resting place of the Star Dancer. It wasn’t worth our effort to go after them in the past, but this incident is by far the single most destructive and violent act by a lone AI in some time. It can’t go unpunished, so the Council finally made the decision it was time to clean house on P4.”
“What about Margo Winters? She was the pilot of the shuttle, and there’s no doubt she had something to do with what happened, but I’m still unsure if she was helping the AI by choice or not. Despite her record, there’s nothing in it to indicate she’s prone to traitorous behavior.”
“Good work on that catch, Richards, you put the pieces together perfectly on this one, and it’s because of deductive reasoning and smarts like that, that you’re working with us, now.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“I’m going to fill you in on a few more details about Miss Winters, classified information from her personnel records that might shed some light on the situation. Her psychiatric evaluation is riddled with disorders – she’s a walking time bomb – and although there is no record of her exhibiting traitorous tendencies, except in her recent criminal past, she is highly prone to reckless and irrational, if not violent behavior. That’s been proven time and time again during her service career. Unfortunately, that was the kind of pilots we needed at the time to combat the Seth menace.
“She dropped off the charts over a year ago, and turned up on Regilain, sold to a local slave-trading house. She was subsequently purchased by a man named Michael Savota. Now, here is where it gets interesting. Savota’s wife is named Donna, formally Miss Donna Burke.”
“And she wouldn’t happen to be any relation to Nathan Burke by chance, would she?” Porter smiled, showing off the gleam of his perfect, pearl-white teeth.
“You got it. So, here is what I think happened. Winters is a slave for the Savota/Burke family and our good friend Nathan decides he can’t live without bringing his favorite pet along with him to meet his old friend, James Wroth, here on Tallin.”
Richards leaned forward; excitement showing in his eyes as one more piece of the puzzle fell into place. It all made perfect sense, now.
“So in exchange for her freedom, she teams up with the AI at some point to kill Burke, eventually dumping him in space before taking control of the ship.”
“Great minds think alike, I’ve always said. Please continue.”
“So after spacing Burke, the AI decides it’s finally time to make his move and head for a place where it, along with a registered escaped slave, can safely hide from Federation jurisdiction. They make a brief stop on Tallin to grab a body for the AI, then blast their way out and head for P4. Being part in the death and destruction of Federation personnel and property was simply collateral damage worth the price of her freedom.”
“That’s the way I see it as well.”
“So what happens now?”
“We’re expecting a good fight with this one; we haven’t done a recon flyby of P4 in over a decade. There’s no saying how advanced the AI have become, or how large the infestation really is. Our current estimates put the population somewhere between four and six thousand.”
Richards’ eyes grew wide in surprise.
“That many? No wonder you wanted a sizeable force to go after them. Are you sure it’s going to be enough, though?”
“This isn’t anything new we’re doing, Penburthery is a seasoned combat officer and has conducted site sterilization for us numerous times in the past already. After he does so a team of engineers will move in and clean up. After that’s complete it will start all over again just like the other sites.”
“And Winters, what happens to her? Do we make an attempt to apprehend her; she’s earned a death sentence for her part in all this.”
“Your right, she has, and that’s why we’re leaving her there. The Commodore is very thorough in his work, and after he’s finished there won’t be a soul left alive on P4, droid or otherwise.”
There was a hand on my shoulder, gently shaking me.
“Captain Margo, can you hear me? You need to wake up, please!”
My eyelids fluttered and I squinted against the glare. My arm felt like it was made of warm butter, as I drug it numbly across my chest trying to block out the light from above.
“Captain Margo, please! There’s something wrong with the ship! I…I don’t know what to do, I’m scared!”
Shading my eyes, I saw the blurry image of Tiff standing above me, naked and hysterical. That was so unlike her, not the naked part, but getting so worked up over things; she was usually as cool as they came.
“What’s wrong? Is the autopilot acting up again? Just check the—”
“It’s Cherise!”
I blinked rapidly to clear my eyes, and my mind slowly came back into focus. Tiff was long dead and so was Nathan. For a moment I’d thought…
“Cherise?”
“Yes, Captain. Please, you need to do something!”
I sat up and my head began to swim. Fortunately Cherise was there to catch me, and I fell limply into her arms, struggling to stand.
“What’s going on? Help me walk; I feel like I’m going…”
Nausea hit me like a hammer and I leaned over, coughing uncontrollably, dry heaving, while clutching at my chest and the lingering pain that made me moan in agony.
“I didn’t know what to do! You’ve been laying here for days and I…I stayed here with you but… the thing, the display said you had died twice.”
I spit a thick glob of rancid bile tainted with blood, and Cherise pulled me closer in fearful desperation. The best I could do right now was cling to her for support and hang my head on her shoulder until the coughing passed.
“I feel like shit,” I breathed out heavily.
Did she say that I died, twice? I vaguely remember a horrid dream; of becoming an animal; of being fucked and tortured for nearly a week; of fighting Alex and the agonizingly long walk to the medical bay while my heart tried to tear itself apart. I had died; I’d seen Nathan and he’d wanted me to stay with him, but he’s gone now and would never be coming back.
Oh God, I hurt so bad and… What the hell’s happening to me? My face; I know I’d felt it when I ran my hand across it. I’ve got five o’clock shadow! It wasn’t a dream- none of it was.
“Let me help you to the controls; there’s lights flashing everywhere and the beeping won’t stop!”
“Yeah, good idea. Get me to the cockpit so I can figure out what’s going on.”
It didn’t sound good, lots of flashing lights and beeping as she put it couldn’t be a good sign, especially since no one has been in control of the shuttle for what, a few days? Damn.
With Cherise’s help I finally managed to find my footing, wobbling on weak knees into the cockpit and flopped down in my chair. She stood behind me, hands on my shoulders in a near death grip.
What a mess, I thought shaking my head. The nav computer had dropped us out of jump space over thirty hours ago and we were on standard drive now. I tried to change the view screen but nothing happened, and the stick was dead in my hands.
“Son of a bitch… Goddamn you, Alex!”
Everything was still locked out, and if things weren’t bad enough I was getting a proximity alert and imminent collision warning. We were on a crash course with a planet less than ten minutes away, and I couldn’t do shit about it. It was also the end point for the coordinates Alex had inputted into the computer back on Tallin. There was someone, or something there, because we’d been hailed numerous times over the last ten hours. All the transmissions were encoded in binary, but I hit the acknowledge button regardless, not even sure what would be transmitted back to the sender.
What the hell am I going to do? Think, Margo, think! My life depended on figuring something out really quick,
“Captain, what’s wrong? What’s happening?”
“Do me a favor and stop calling me Captain, will you? I’m not a Captain anymore; I’m not anything, anymore.”
“Okay, but Alex said...”
I whinnied in annoyance cutting her off, vigorously shaking my head.
“I don’t care what that asshole told you to call me, my name is Margo. Not Captain or Captain Margo, just plain Margo.”
“Okay, Margo, if that’s what you want.”
What I want… I hadn’t thought in those terms in a long time.
I shifted in my seat, feeling the slick leather glide across my aching butt and the back of my legs. Ugh! Stupid remote! Why hasn’t it turned off? My pussy felt as raw as a piece of abused meat, I’d almost died, and I will for sure this time if I didn’t pull my head out of my ass, but all I could think about is getting stuffed with more cock. I hope you burn in hell, Alex!
“I’ve got it! Run back to the emergency locker and bring me an environmental suit and a rebreather, hurry!”
Cherise hesitated for a moment, reluctant to leave my side before sprinting down the corridor. This better work, because it was all I could come up with and it was a crapshoot at best. If my timing was even slightly off…
I had to stretch to reach the small overhead panel, and it slid open under my touch to reveal a warning striped tee-handle lever and two large buttons. Pulling downward on the handle, the cylinder rod it was attached to followed, extending downward six inches. I turned it 180 degrees until I heard it click, pushing the handle back up into its original position. The two buttons beside it illuminated red, followed by a generically computerized voice filling the ship.
“
Warning, emergency main power restart sequence now in standby
.”
Eight minutes until impact.
This idea was just as likely to get me killed, than save my life.
“Margo! Is this what you wanted? There was only one left.”
I frowned, stiffly looking over my shoulder at Cherise; her arms were full with a suit, four rebreathers, and a pony tank of air.
“Don’t worry about it, you don’t need a suit.”