1


X-37 sounded an alert only I heard, and by heard I meant the vibrations to my cochlear implant brought me to my knees. Everyone should have a limited artificial intelligence to ruin their day. It’s fantastic.
I climbed to my feet and placed my untasted whiskey on the little bar at the edge of the Bright Lance observation deck. “This better be good, X.”
“Doctor Jaxon Ayers is in a state of cardiac arrest,” X-37 explained. “I believe Vice Admiral Nebs implanted nerve-ware kill switches in all of his critical staff. Most of the high-ranking officers, special technicians, and spies in the lower ranks have died of heart attacks within the last fifteen minutes.”
I gave the bartender a friendly wave as I pushed back from my usual spot, then strode from the room. “Why now, X? Why not right after we took control of the ships?”
“The most likely scenario is that we have located a secret Nebs did not want us to find even if he was dead,” X-37 said. “Eliminating key people, like Ayers, has a high probability of hiding the dead vice admiral’s darkest secrets. It is also possible that the reset of the ship’s AI has mitigated the worst of Nebs’s sabotage efforts.”
“The doctor can’t die until I figure out what his dead boss had him on this ship for,” I said.
“He was a medical officer, Reaper Cain. The cryo-pods are one of his many responsibilities,” X-37 said.
“There’s more to it than that,” I said. “And he better not die before my mother and sister are revived or I’ll find him in the afterlife and kill him again.”
“I will place that on your post death agenda.”
“Sometimes I can’t tell if you’re joking,” I said.
“It is a mystery.”
“Yeah, like I need that. Tell me more about these kill switches and why you think they’re going off now,” I said.
X-37 chattered in my ear about the sketchy and illegal experimentation Ayers had performed before facing a court-martial on about a hundred criminal charges. My LAI trying to be helpful without understanding my anger and frustration.
I was running by the time I reached the hallway to the medical bay. That dangerous sense of foreboding I’d felt since first seeing the man on surveillance cameras was growing faster than I could sprint.
“Reaper Cain, please compose yourself,” X-37 demanded.
Stopping at the door, I took a breath, then I let it out and went inside.
Henshaw, Tom, and Elise were standing in the emergency room over Ayers. Their faces were pale. Most alarming of all was my speechless protege. I hadn’t thought she’d ever run out of opinions, swear words, and tactless comments.
“What’s going on, Elise?” I asked, standing beside her to look at all the IVs and machines connected to Ayers. A team of Union trained nurses came and went, forcing us to step back whenever they needed to check something or adjust his meds.
“He was ranting and raving, saying we couldn’t let him die because he’d brought them back,” Elise said. A shiver passed through her. She crossed her arms and took a step back.
Henshaw looked hungry for knowledge but also terrified—not the bedside manner I expected, even though I tried not to underestimate the man’s curiosity in all things scientific. He had sacrificed his own eyes for his research.
What a nutjob.
Tom’s expression was as grim as I’d ever seen it. Of all my crew, Tom was the most caring and—normal. Yet he was every bit the seeker of knowledge that Henshaw was without all of the pathological sneakery.
“Did we ever figure out what Ayers was researching before they banned it?” I asked.
“Alien xenobiology and advanced cloning,” X-37 said.
“I really don’t like the sound of that, but tell me all of it, X. What do we think he was doing for Nebs?” I asked. “And why didn’t you tell me he’s a xenobiologist and a cloning expert?”
“Based on the small amount of data I have at this time, I believe he was in fact attempting to bring back an alien race through cloning,” X-37 said, “despite hundreds of years of failed clone projects and laws against the practice.”
“He needs to have an alien to clone one,” I said. “Did we check all of the pods?”
“That would freak me out,” Elise said, looking way more intrigued than freaked out. “Please tell me we don’t have a box of monsters someplace on this ship.”
“There are only humans in the cryo-pods. That doesn’t prevent Doctor Ayers from having a DNA sample—from an archeological site or something,” X-37 answered. “I must remind you we have not found Nebs’s secret vault, despite evidence from your initial interviews with Ayers that such a place exists.”
“Let’s get him stabilized and find that vault,” I said.
Elise crossed her arms as she stared into me with angry suspicion. “When were you going to tell the rest of us about this?”
I spread my arms, the model of innocence. “I didn’t tell you?”
“No. You didn’t,” Elise said, moving forward like a master interrogator. Combined with steady eye contact, it was a good tactic. I wondered where she had learned it.
“X, didn’t I ask you to remind me to share the existence of a secret vault with Elise…and these other characters,” I said, waving at Henshaw and Tom, hoping to divert Elise’s attention.
X-37 responded on our team channel. “You did not, Reaper Cain.”
“Well anyway, I was just about to ask all of you for your input,” I said.
Elise rolled her eyes in disbelief.
I pressed onward. “X-37 believes that Nebs recruited Ayers—kidnapped might be a better word for what transpired—to conduct some very dangerous research on this ship.”
“That doesn’t surprise me,” Elise admitted, letting go of her annoyance. The longer we knew each other, the quicker we were to get over these types of personal slights.
“I’ve had a really bad feeling since we captured the Dark Lance,” I said.
“Bright Lance,” X-37 said. “AI Mavis does not like the old name and neither does Captain Younger.”
“Whatever.” I didn’t want to argue. “Let’s divide into teams and search the ship—room by room and data file by data file. We need answers and we need them now.”
* * *
Brion Rejon, the leader of Xad, stood with us. He wasn’t as tall as many of his people, but he had that slender, slightly out of proportion appearance of someone who spent most of his life in space. The man wasn’t the ultimate authority on the Bright Lance, but near enough. Captain Cynthia Thomas Younger of Xad allowed him free reign of the ship, and her crew respected him—which made our search of what had been the Dark Lance easier.
Before us was a blast door very similar to what protected the Archangel armories. We waited until Tom and Henshaw arrived.
“X, can you fill everybody in?” I asked.
“Certainly, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said. “I have worked with ship AI Mavis to access all parts of the Bright Lance. This door, however, has been unbreachable. Reaper Cain would like your combined assistance to gain access.”
“You brought us all here to help you steal more Reaper toys?” Henshaw asked. “Or have you discovered this vague and mysterious threat that has you shaking in your Reaper boots? The one you weren’t going to share with the rest of us?”
“You’re free to get on your ship and leave anytime,” I said, not in the mood to argue with a butthurt scientist.
Henshaw ran one hand through his neatly trimmed hair, diverting attention from the way his cybernetic eyes scanned the door. The man had a simple LAI that X-37 said barely deserved the name. When we’d met, he’d been using the technology to win at gambling on Roxo III—which had gotten him into a lot of trouble and prompted our relationship.
“I think this is where Nebs and Doctor Ayers concealed their experiments,” I explained.
“Well, that is interesting if true,” Henshaw said. “This vault door is on its own power grid. If I were concealing a top-secret laboratory, I would put similar security measures in place.”
“I thought that might grab your attention.” I knew the man couldn’t resist such an intellectual challenge, and that he would also seek new tools to use against the Union. The ocular engineer and unorthodox scientist understood how to work through dangerous situations. He was an intellectual opportunist who came at problems from creative angles.
Tom lacked formal schooling or a limited artificial intelligence but was one of the most innovative engineers I knew. He studied new things and had a very broad base of knowledge. Together, I was sure we could get through this seemingly impenetrable barrier.
Henshaw rubbed his chin. “Too bad we can’t have Doctor Ayers here.”
“Prior to his myocardial infraction, Doctor Jaxon Ayers stated he did not have the code,” X-37 said.
“Maybe your Reaper interrogation was too much for him. I’m not convinced Nebs put kill switches in his people,” Henshaw said, visible lights rotating counterclockwise in his dual cybernetic eyes. “If Nebs could do that to his people, how am I alive? I betrayed him long before we met.”
“No idea. Maybe you should have a full medical check-up. Wouldn’t want you to keel over right when I need you for something.” I moved closer to the vault door, studying each detail, looking for something I’d missed on previous attempts to breach it.
“Perhaps a check-up would be a good idea,” Henshaw said, his tone subdued, his eyes dimmed.
Elise joined me, squatting down as we tested the bottom seal. “Want to try the lock picks again? You probably wouldn’t get shocked this time. And if you did, you survived the last time, right?”
“You’re trying to get me to zap myself,” I said.
She shrugged and made innocent eyes. “It might work.”
I faced her, keeping my expression neutral and unreadable.
“We should get more information from Ayers,” she said. “That might be safer for you, and it also might help avoid any self-destruct mechanisms he might have in place to keep his research out of the wrong hands.”
“That would be an outstanding idea if Doctor Ayers were available for an interview,” X-37 said. “AI Mavis informs me he remains in serious condition.”
“Can we wake him up?” I asked.
“Possibly, Reaper Cain, though it is not recommended.”
“Can we… drag him down here and force him to open the vault?”
X-37 made a series of meaningless clicks. “Are you trying to kill him?”
“No, X. I need him.” Crossing my arms, I asked a serious question of my LAI. “What are those clicks, X? Are you all right?”
“Did the noises in question not convey chastisement?” X-37 asked. “My analysis suggests this would mimic a nonverbal mannerism. I have tried such things before with mixed results.”
“You’re doing that crap on purpose?”
“I am, Reaper Cain. We commonly refer it to as communication.”
I laughed. “All that time I thought you were breaking down.”
“To be accurate, there were instances of malfunction and less than optimal performance, but the combined efforts of Henshaw, Tom, and the various ship AIs we’ve befriended since Dreadmax have much improved my ability to assist you. AI Mavis has been helpful as of late.”
“Problems?” Elise asked, raising one eyebrow. Henshaw also watched me with interest. Not all of my conversation with X had been shared with them.
“No. I’m good. X, check with Mavis and see if we can talk with Ayers.”
“Standing around isn’t solving this little conundrum.” Elise backed away from the vault door. “Let’s head for the hospital now.”
“I’ll stay here and take measurements; maybe compare what is in the ship schematics to what is actually here,” Tom said.
“Send Path or one of Rejon’s people down to stand guard once we relieve him from guarding Ayers.” My impatience to get inside needed tempering, which made me glad my friends were here. They held me back when I tried to rush things like this, and they brought a fresh perspective to everything.
“Path,” Elise said on the comm channel. “We’re coming to you now. How’s the doctor?”
“Safe,” Grigori “Path” Paavo answered. “And awake. He’s threatening to leave the medical bay.”
“Don’t let that happen,” I ordered.
“We will both be here when you arrive,” Path promised.
* * *
Crew members of the Bright Lance greeted us and stepped aside as we moved through the narrow hallways. None of them saluted, and they were back to work seconds after each encounter.
“I haven’t figured these people out,” Henshaw said. “And I consider myself an accomplished student of human behavior.”
“What is there to figure out?.” Elise asked.
“My first impression of Xad citizens was of homeless vagabonds capable of surviving in an extraterrestrial junkyard. My second impression was of a hard-working colonists. What I’m seeing here is a group of very formal soldiers and crewmen wearing the same tattered rags their grandparents must have worn,” Henshaw said.
“Some have new uniforms,” I said. “The Bright Lance has recycling facilities near the hydroponics deck. Before you know it, their rags will be good as new.”
“Sure,” Henshaw argued, “but they can’t decide on the design or even color scheme. They are half professionals—serious about tradition and formalities—and half feral survivalists.”
“Does any of that matter?” I asked, wondering what the ocular engineer was getting at.
“I’m a scientist. I observe and hypothesize explanations,” he said.
“They’re a work in progress.” My training in how to observe and analyze people was for a different reason but I’d noticed most of the same things as Henshaw.
We arrived at the medical bay, bypassing the high security hallway that led to the cryo-pod area where my family and others were held in a kind of stasis that was hard to look at.
“The doctor is awake.” Path stepped away from Ayers as we entered the doctor’s room.
The appearances of Path and Ayers were as different as they could be. The sword saint had crazy hair, wild clothing, and eyes as serene as still water. Doctor Jaxon Ayers wore a perfectly maintained jumpsuit and had neatly trimmed gray hair, but his eyes were as crazy as a Tagron beast of Xad in an arena fight. A cumbersome medical bracelet on his wrist allowed the medical staff to keep tabs on his health.
“Are you going somewhere, doc?” I asked.
“Am I a prisoner?”
“As a matter of fact, you are. Can you believe this guy, X?” I asked.
X-37 didn’t answer. Elise and Henshaw flanked Doctor Ayers but held back from the conversation—watching and listening for the right moment to join in.
“What do you want, Reaper?” Ayers asked.
“We found the vault. I want in.”
“I told your LAI I have no more codes, for cryo-pods or anything else.” Sitting on the edge of the bed now, he looked pale but determined.
“What’s inside that door?” I placed one hand on his shoulder.
He shivered at my touch. I sensed Elise and Henshaw shifting foot to foot, probably wanting to interrupt with their own questions before I scared the man into not talking. What they didn’t understand was that it was more difficult to lie during physical contact.
“Nebs ordered me to end my research,” Ayers said. “I did everything he wanted, fixed all of his problems, did my job perfectly. All I wanted was to test my theories.”
“What theories?” I demanded. My friends relaxed slightly, evaluating every word, movement, and hesitation of Ayers.
“It would be easier to show you,” he said.
“Agreed, but you don’t have the codes to open the cryo-pods or secret vaults or anything else.” I crossed my arms, making sure my cybernetic arm was on top.
He looked at his feet, hugging himself as he rocked back and forth on the edge of his hospital bed. A bead of sweat broke on his forehead.
“I’m not an idiot, Reaper. I knew better than to trust Nebs, so I hid the codes to the research vault on a planet called Macabre. If you can take me there, I can introduce you to the first round of test subjects, recover the secrets within the vault, and change our understanding of the galaxy forever,” he said. “I also stashed back-up codes for the cryo-pods.”
“Why Macabre?” I asked. “What is there that makes it a good place to hide things?”
“Your heart rate is entering fight mode,” X-37 said. “Proceed with caution, Reaper Cain.”
“There are sections of the galaxy non-human aliens of incredible knowledge and power once ruled. Maybe they had their own exodus—just like your precious Xad and Wallach coalition—but some of them died first. I found viable examples of their DNA in an archeological site on Macabre and brought them back,” Ayers said, a sly grin forming as he spoke. “After a fashion.”