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Chapter 29


“What we call selfishness is simply short-term thinking, and what we call selflessness is little more than long-term thinking in action.”


Legacy Mandate by Emperor Yung I


With infinite care, Che Ramos piloted his craft straight for the hangar-like opening in the cliff face, moving forward at a slow pace. Although he had plenty of clearance on either side of his craft, Che remained cautious. A sudden air current or micro-collision could cause a significant deviation in his course, and at this moment he needed everything to be flawless.

Che’s craft motored straight ahead, flying into the broad opening. A passage stretched out ahead and Che continued his course, scanning the sheer walls on both sides for any hint of activity. One of the largest of Che’s small armada of micros, his current vehicle spanned a width equivalent to a few human hairs. He figured he might need some of its greater capabilities as he explored the interior of the mysterious package that he was supposed to have secreted in the captain’s cabin. If he encountered some internal path too tight, he would simply pilot a second, smaller micro inside as well.

The passage did constrict ahead and Che slowed, scanning carefully. “I’ve found something,” Che reported, knowing the captain and Inga Maru sat beside him in the captain’s cabin, even as Che’s observational locus lay within the tiny micro navigating the bowels of the package.

“Yes, Ramos?” the captain said.

Che pivoted his scanners as his craft floated slowly forward. Shallow sconces opened on either side of the main passage, one after the other. Che slowed his vehicle to a stop and bumped up illumination, flooding one sconce.

“You were saying?” Inga Maru prompted.

Che stared at the insect-like shape he illuminated within the sconce. Glittering sensor plates gleamed like multifaceted eyes, an extendable probe formed a proboscis, and clawed grippers dangled below the segmented body.

“Micros,” Che said.

“What’s that?” the captain’s voice inquired.

Che scanned down the long passage, seeing the dark mouths of sconces opening as far as his sensors reached. “This package is full of micros. Look.” Che pushed an image capture to Inga and Saef, allowing them to see the insectoid shape for themselves.

“I—I’ve never seen a design like this before,” Che said. “Should I try and pull one out? We might be able to analyze it with some of my other micro-deck tools.”

“We’ve only a short time to our scheduled transition,” Saef said. “Not much time to analyze anything.”

“Push our transition back?” Inga Maru questioned.

“I don’t want to tip anyone off. We transition on schedule,” the captain said.

“So…?” Che said.

“How many of those are there?” the captain asked.

“Um, thousands, it looks like,” Che said, looking again at the myriad openings from either side of the central passage.

“Go ahead,” Saef said, “try to get one.”

Che closed on one insectoid micro and extended his graspers.

“A question occurs to me, Captain,” Inga Maru said, her voice rising invisibly beside Che, “we have an army of micros here, but who is the operator? I only know one micro-operator onboard.”

Che froze for a moment, swallowing acid.

“Maru, are you suggesting that Mister Ramos might be the intended operator, just because he carried them onto the ship and tried to sneak them into my cabin?”

“The suspicion does cross my mind, Captain,” Inga purred.

“These m-might be operated by a preprogrammed control unit here in this package,” Che said, sweating. “Probably have to be really… A s-signal feed s-strong enough to control them remotely would be, um…pretty obvious.”

“See, Maru, Mister Ramos takes the legs out from your suspicion.” The captain’s tone seemed almost amused. “You bringing that damned thing out of there, Ramos?”

Che extended the claws and grabbed the much smaller, insect-like micro. “Just about to, Captain.”

He reversed power and observed resistance as the insect-micro’s appendages dragged free of its sconce. Che’s craft popped free, wobbling as Che stabilized the controls. “I g-got it.”

Retracting his path, now encumbered with an awkward load, Che buzzed his tiny craft back down the “long” passage, a track no longer than his index finger, and emerged from the small gray package. A moment later Che’s micro settled down on the micro control-deck. He manipulated the graspers, carefully pressing the strange micro against a collection of contact probes.

Che exhaled and pulled the deck’s VR lenses off. “O-okay, it’s in place. I—I should be able to analyze some aspects of its structure through my deck now.”

“Link me to the feed,” Inga Maru commanded.

“Yes, Chief,” Che said, perplexed, but completing the handoff, pushing the micro-deck’s interface to Inga. “I—I didn’t know you were a, um, micro-operator.”

“I’m not.” Inga Maru’s eyes flickered, and Che became an astonished spectator, watching his feed from the micro-deck as it exploded into torrents of information flowing in both directions.

“Transition time coming up, Maru,” Saef said as she streamed information through her UI. “I’ll need to head to the bridge shortly.”

Inga’s eyes continued to flicker and Che continued to look on, amazed, as data poured through his micro-deck. “Encryption…” Inga said quietly. Her brow wrinkled momentarily and the data stream recoiled repeatedly. “Got it.”

A burst of characters flowed through the micro-deck, too fast for Che to follow, and then ceased. Inga’s eyes closed, her face seeming to pale.

“Maru?” Saef said, his forbidding features softening somewhat.

“Oh!” Loki’s voice audibly spoke into the cabin. “This is an interesting cruise!”

“Maru?”

Inga’s eyes popped open. “It…it’s worse than we thought.”

“What is it?” Saef said.

“He needs to be back in his quarters,” Inga said, nodding toward Che, “and we need the XO here.”

“B-but, what is that th-thing?” Che spluttered. “You’ve got to t-tell me.”

Inga stepped close to Che, her eyes peering through the blond fringe of her hair, her usual smile gone. “No, I don’t. And if you talk to anyone about what you saw here, I will know…just like I knew you would be here today.” She reached a hand out from beneath her cloak and adjusted his crumpled uniform jacket. “Talking—even in your sleep—can get you kicked out an airlock.”

“Don’t terrify the poor fellow, Maru,” Saef said. He looked at Che. “We need any other spies on board to believe that you planted this package without a hitch, see? So just act natural. You can do that, right, Mister Ramos?”

Che jerked a couple of nods, his eyes darting from Saef to Inga. It should be easy enough to keep acting the same way he had since he boarded Tanager: nervous, insecure, and terrified of the future.

“Y-yes, Captain. I—I can do that.” But Che did not like the look in Inga Maru’s eyes.

Talking in my sleep? She heard me talking in my sleep?


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