Spinward Fringe Broadcast 7: Framework (19 page)

“Yeah, how did that get by you?” Stephanie
asked. “You were monitoring all communications through the proxy.
You were probably monitoring everything else too, I can’t see you
letting anything go.”

“I saw it,” Jason said. “But the encryption
and transmission bouncing made it hard to pin down who it was. I
thought it might be Ashley after the first two weeks, but I
couldn’t believe it after looking at her extended profile.”

“Why not?” Ayan asked.

“She was so ditzy,” he answered, earning
glares from several corners of the room. “Care-free is probably a
better term.”

“It is,” Stephanie said sternly, sitting
down beside Ashley.

“I eventually got confirmation, but like she
said, there was no response from the Triton until tonight.”

“Why didn’t you tell us about this right
away?” Ayan asked, taking Ashley’s hand from across one end of the
table.

“When I couldn’t get through to the Triton I
didn’t think it would help anything, and later I knew I’d get
booted from the crew for
not
telling anyone, so I wanted to
connect to the Triton first, so I could at least have a chance at
staying on. I kinda didn’t want to connect at all sometimes,
because I knew I’d just be a walking control console for the
Triton. Whenever someone wanted clearance to do something big
aboard, they’d have to make me do it.”

“Okay, I get that,” Stephanie said, her tone
steady and firm. “But you report this stuff. At least tell me about
it from now on, right?”

Ashley nodded.

“That brings me around to you,” Ayan said,
turning towards Jason. “Did you tell anyone that you were tracking
encrypted transmissions to the Triton?”

“He didn’t,” Laura said. “Unless he told
someone other than his wife first.”

“I was still gathering intelligence,” he
replied firmly. “Encrypted transmissions can’t tell you much, so it
was premature until tonight, when there was a response.”

“What about before tonight?” Oz asked. “When
you were sure you knew who the transmissions came from?”

“I didn’t feel there was enough information
to act on,” Jason insisted.

“Have you been tracking anything else we
need to know about?” Oz asked. “I’m just wondering, because I’ve
been running security on the ground for almost seven weeks, and
thought I was playing with a full deck the whole time. I think I’d
like the rest of the cards now.”

“I’ve only been tracking one other person,”
Jason said.

“They’ve been transmitting to the Triton,
too?” asked Ashley.

“No, they’ve been having a conversation with
the Order of Eden recruitment branch,” Jason said.

“Jason,” Jacob said, taking a slow breath
before finishing his thought. “How long has it been going on?” He
took great effort to say in a level tone.

“Seventeen days,” Jason replied. “He hasn’t
provided any critical information yet.”

“Except for our location,” Jake said. “Which
probably led Wheeler in our direction. Tell me you thought this
situation through this far, at least.”

“You don’t put this information out early,”
Jason said. “You just don’t, because it gets around before you’ve
cultivated enough data to act and your target gets away.”

“I have enough information to act on,
Jason,” Jake said through clenched teeth. “Who is it?”

“I’m with Jake,” Oz agreed.

“It’s one of your people, Jake,” Jason
replied. “It’s Crewman’s Mate Leland March.”

“Can I execute him? You already did two,”
Stephanie said. “Only fair.”

Jake couldn’t help but laugh, a hearty, dark
kind of laughter that drew wary glances. “Oh no, I have something
special planned for him. Let’s get back to the command codes before
I go take care of him. You said the Triton replied to you tonight,
Ashley. What did it say?”

“It’s ready to accept my codes, maybe
because I’m not transmitting though a proxy disguising who I am,
but I have to do it in person so the ship can scan me,” Ashley
replied.

Frost came through the door with Minh-Chu at
his side. “They stuck that new shin and foot Iloona made for me
before we left the Triton. Creepy as hell, wearing new limbs but-“
he stopped, looked around and took a seat on a bar stool.
“Somethin’s up.”

“Drama, I sense drama,” Minh agreed quietly
as he took a seat beside Frost.

“We’re going back to the Triton,” Stephanie
said.

“She’s going to need some kind of proof that
she’s at least been to Earth,” Laura said. “The Carthans won’t
believe that she’s a commander even if her code works
perfectly.”

“Can I see your code, Ashley?” Liam
asked.

Ashley called her clearance up on her
command and control unit and brought up the hologram. There was a
string of hundreds of letters and numbers along with a profile icon
of the Triton and other, shorter codes beside it. “This is the code
with the ship’s designation, her mission and last communication
with Earth,” he said, pointing at one of the shorter codes at the
bottom.

He rubbed his chin and read for a long
moment before pointing at the next one above it. “She’s an observer
ship. I’ve heard of this.”

“Until Wheeler stole her?” Jake asked.

“No, they led him to the ship with bread
crumbs that started four sectors away form Earth. The Triton is on
mission right now. This type of observer ship is made to be crewed
by whoever finds her, and the logs get sent back to Earth. They
learn about the state of the galaxy,” Liam said.

“So it’s like an ant farm,” Oz said. “A
great big, mobile, fully armed ant farm.”

“Not a bad analogy,” Liam said. “I didn’t
learn much about what they do with the information they gather from
Observer ships, but there’s normally a smaller ship within half a
light year. Close enough to activate a kill switch if something
goes wrong.” He pointed to a number near the end of one of the
codes. “But there’s no assignment here, it’s all zeroes. There’s
also no home port, no military branch assignment, and no return
date.”

“Could Wheeler have removed them?” Jake
asked.

“No, this type of code is generated so
certain values have to add up to a specific number for
verification. If you start changing things without using the
calculations that generated it, you get gibberish. The only reason
why I can even read it is because I tried to get into the
engineering program on Earth.”

“Did you?” Ayan asked.

“Not the type I wanted. They let me audit
several structural engineering courses. I’m afraid I spent most of
my time on Earth learning the secrets of meditation and how to
teach others how to maintain a healthy state of being. I’ve had a
lot of work to do since I joined the crew.”

“I can imagine,” Jake said. “What about the
main number?”

“The actual command code?” Liam said. “I can
see the date here, and that the command code is a match to the
Triton’s serial number. She was given command status right before
we left the ship. This other identifier at the beginning does a lot
for us. This part, where it says ‘SOL03’ tells us that Larry is
ranked so highly by whatever Earth military branch he’s a part of
that the code reads as if it was given to you on Earth. It’s as if
you stood at the Departure monument and got the commission from the
Admiralty in person.”

“He said he was from Citadel,” Ashley
said.

Liam regarded her for a moment before
replying, “He told you not to tell anyone about that, I’m
guessing.”

“Um, yeah,” Ashley said quietly. “But I may
as well spill all the beans now that the can is open.”

“Everyone should pretend they never heard
the name,” Liam said. “That organisation is a myth, even on Earth.
It’s a popular one, mind you. There are some great action movies
made about it, lots of great kung-fu, but that’s about all I’ve
seen about it.”

“What do they say about Citadel?” Jason
asked.

“They were the hidden safeguard,” Liam
replied, still staring at the raw code with his hands clasped
behind his back. “When the new government was finally established
about two centuries ago, and the Axiologists agreed to the peace
pact at the core of their order, Citadel was the organisation that
would make sure it was upheld. They weren’t to get directly
involved with politics, or reveal who they are to anyone outside of
the organisation. Rumour is, they decided that they needed to send
members out into the galaxy so they could have some understanding
of humanity beyond the Kuiper belt. In the popular fiction, they
warn Earth if there are any impending threats. Invasion, disease,
anything that could cause the Sol system harm, they would report
it, or stop it personally. Citadel was dissolved over a hundred
seventy years ago, if you believe the conventional history.”

“What happened?” asked Minh.

“They say that after about two decades of
peace and fairly harmonious governing, they were phased out because
it didn’t look like they would be needed. There are entire books
written about it, but that’s really what it came down to, as far as
I know.”

“But you told us to forget we ever heard the
name,” Jason said.

“You should,” Liam said, backing away from
the wall of holographic code above the table. “Academics, members
of government, and public servants don’t discuss Citadel. Call it
paranoia, or maybe embarrassment over an organisation that
represents all of mankind’s self-doubt, but it’s not something
they’ll speak on.”

“You asked,” Jason said.

“I did. I asked a few times, and I didn’t
press. That’s something you learn on Earth, there’s a heightened
level of respect and politeness there. It can be very informal
during social events, but you learn not to ask difficult questions
more than once pretty quickly. You know something about them, don’t
you, Jason?”

“Freeground Intelligence believes that
Citadel is Sol Defence’s ranger and black ops arm. They operate in
the galaxy, quietly influencing politics and finance for the Sol
system’s benefit.”

“Sounds like fiction,” Liam said.

“All fiction is based on something,” Jason
countered.

“The truth is usually less spectacular than
the story it inspires,” Liam said. “I can’t tell you anything else
about that code, other than it is part biometric, and at the
highest level. You don’t need to create any false documents for
this one, just get her onto the ship.”

“I wish that were true, the Carthans love
their documentation,” Ayan said.

“In that case, I can provide all the details
Ashley would need to fake a visit to Earth,” Liam said. “How would
you like to be from Minnesota, Ashley?”

“Sounds good to me,” she said.

“Was there anything she could do from a
distance?” Jason asked.

“Nothing,” Liam said. “She’s right, she has
to be there in person so the ship can perform a deep scan. She
can’t even turn the main computer on alone. It takes two people
with codes at her level or higher. Even if she told us about this
right away, we’d have to approach Larry and get him to help
reactivate the Triton.”

Jake decided it was time to protect Ashley;
he wasn’t willing to see her become a pariah, or get punished by
the rest of the crew. “All right, no one talks about anything we’ve
discussed here to anyone outside of this room. I don’t want anyone
to blame Ashley for anything, I don’t even want anyone to know she
had command codes. I’ll find a punishment when it’s time, she’s
still in my crew.”

“What she’s done has affected everyone
here,” Jason said.

“She’s on my crew,” Jake repeated. “I’m only
going to warn you once, Everin. You so much as open communications
with a Samson crewmember without telling me first and I’ll make
sure the thought of doing it again never even enters your
mind.”

“Threatening me? Is that-“

“God dammit, Jason, I don’t care how
important you think you are to these people, if you try to go over
my head I’ll take yours. Your ideas have already set us back and
demoralised the lot, it’s time to let experienced officers run the
show.” Jake started for the door.

“Where are you going?” Oz asked.

“I’m going to administer a demotion, are you
coming?”

It was clear to Eve that she was powerless.
She was at Hampon’s mercy. He decided what she could do, where she
could go, and how she would be treated. In response, she stopped
working on the new version of the framework system and left his
area of the ship.

The problem was still on her mind, but she
refused to record any of her thoughts or ideas. Instead, she
pursued meaningful distraction. Before waking from her induced
sleep, she realized whom she dreamt of while she was in stasis.

Eve stood in a dark plated hallway. It was a
side passage that split off from one of the main docking bays
aboard the Overlord II. A hologram of a woman, covered in stasis
fluid, struggling to push herself up, to breathe properly, to move
towards the main hallway.

Eve watched the hologram of Alice, newly
reborn, and actually felt for the woman. She reached out and
shouted incoherently. Eve knew that part of the recording well,
when Jonas Valent and his companions failed to notice her during
their escape.

“Things would have been different if they
noticed her then,” said an adolescent boy from behind her.

Eve turned and set her eyes on the new clone
of the Child Prophet. He signalled for his security squad to remain
at the entrance of the hallway, then approached her with a gentle
smile. “Hello, Eve.”

“You know about her?” Eve asked.
“Alice?”

“When I decided to introduce myself to you I
was surprised to find you here, and looked into what you were
doing. I don’t know much about her early life, but she is an
interesting case to study,” he replied. They watched as Alice
seemed to give up momentarily, and two women picked her up off the
deck. “She must have been so frightened.”