4


Jelly played music that she informed me previous captains had enjoyed during long stretches in slip tunnels. Some of the melodies sounded familiar, synthetic instruments and syncopated bass lines. Others seemed to be performed by musicians blowing into reed pipes and stomping their feet.
“Give me something new or turn it off,” I said. Tom and Elise had both slept in, apparently. I shouldn’t be angry, because I’d chosen to take a double shift on the bridge. They probably didn’t even know I was here.
The sound of a large orchestra warming up came from the sound system. After a few moments, I realized this was actually part of the performance and that the melodies were merging to form a more and more powerful piece. The experience was intriguing and kept me occupied for longer than I realized. Before long, the music was thrillingly martial—it made me want to wade into battle and crush my enemies.
“Jelly, can you mark that as a preferred soundtrack?” I said. “It’s very inspiring once it gets going.”
“Of course, Captain,” Jelly said.
“Thanks,” I replied, then took off my jacket. I examined the two pockets that I had sewn on the inside, one for the mask and one for the stealth cloak.
“That is fine work,” Jelly said. “If this Reaper business doesn’t work out, you might find work as a seamstress or a tailor.”
“Did you just make a joke?” I asked.
“It was an attempt. Captain. X-37 has been instructing me,” Jelly admitted, sounding more embarrassed than I thought a ship AI could sound.
“That wasn’t bad, but between you and me, X-37’s humor could use some work. You might look for a better mentor,” I said, standing and putting on the jacket then inserting the mask and the rolled-up stealth cloak into the concealed pockets.
“Truly? That was my assessment, but I didn’t want to be rude,” Jelly said.
“Ahem, you know I can hear both of you,” X-37 said.
“Chill, X. I’m just pulling your chain,” I said, knowing what would come next.
“I will add chain-pulling to your list of human colloquialisms that make absolutely zero sense given the context of this conversation,” X-37 said.
I laughed. The familiarity of our banter was soothing and I didn’t know what I would do without X.
For the next several minutes, I practiced taking the mask out of my jacket with either hand. I did the same with the stealth cloak, unrolling it and re-rolling it several times. Then I moved about the room, practicing shoplifting various items that were magnetized to the workstations.
My old friend Grady had thought my adeptness at thievery was disgusting, but he didn’t know how much practice it took to be good at pilfering. Jelly could tease me about being a seamstress or a tailor, but if I really had to earn a living without violence, I would probably be a pickpocket.
It was a useful skill. More than half of the cigars I had smoked in my lifetime had been acquired in this way.
“You seem to be improving, Captain,” Jelly said as she watched me move about the cockpit. “Even though my sensors are more acute than the human eye, and my processing power many times faster in most cases, all three of your covert item acquisitions were undetectable until I reviewed my short-term memory.”
“Four,” I said.
“Excuse me?” Jelly said. “Are you attempting to convince me that you have pocketed a fourth item that I didn’t observe?”
“He has one of the smaller data slates tucked into his side trouser pocket,” X-37 tattled. “If you look behind work terminal four-nine-bravo, you will see one of the micro devices is missing from its charging station.”
“Ah,” Jelly said almost forlornly. “You are a master thief, Captain.”
“That’s not really a compliment, and I was going to put it back. Technically, it’s not stealing if I don’t intend to permanently deprive you of it. And this is my ship, so I can take whatever I want.”
“That is a rather thorny legal question, considering I have been stolen multiple times and used against my own creators,” Jelly said.
“You could still be in the service of the Union, just waiting for some piece of Trojan computer code to turn you against me,” I said, almost feeling guilty for the accusation.
“I can assure you that will not happen,” Jelly said, and if I was interpreting her tone correctly, she sounded more than a bit put out by my words.
“I can vouch for the Jellybird,” X-37 said. “I have not only made a detailed study of every line of her code, but also reviewed key points on a regular basis to make sure she is not compromised by Union malware.”
“Good to know.” I wasn’t convinced. X-37, after all, was also a product of Union scientists.
“Paranoia detected,” X-37 said like it was some sort of public service announcement.
“Piss off, both of you,” I said, then immediately had a powerful revelation. It was me against the Union.
I probably shouldn’t have relied on X-37 or Jelly, but I did. As X-37 had pointed out many times when he was in psychologist mode, doubting him in particular was just going to make me crazy.
In truth, I had enormous faith in Elise and Tom and even the other members of my team—Henshaw and Path. The latter two had given me reason to suspect them, but that was mostly in the past. With them, I was in a “trust but verify” mood.
It was something I had to move beyond. The Union was unstoppable. I couldn’t stand against them by myself. I couldn’t resist the Union’s might, even with my friends and the two ships we had access to, to help me.
I needed to build an army and a fleet. The idea wasn’t as crazy as it sounded, because I had not only been trained to do exactly that but had done it on more than one occasion. There had been three missions in which I had been sent in to destabilize governments so that the Union could establish control after local rebellions.
“You seem to be calmer now,” X-37 observed. “Should I be worried? That normally means you’re going to kill someone or blow something up.”
“Nope. I just had a moment of clarity. We’re going to need a bigger ship—several bigger ships to be specific.” I didn’t have a plan yet. It was more like I had updated my private mission statement.
My short-term goal was to get away from Nebs. My five-year plan, for lack of a better term, was to rescue my mother and sister and see what they could tell me about the Union. But in the end, my long-term plan, my life’s mission, had to be total war against the Union.
“I hate to interrupt your delightful mood, but Tom and Elise are asking if you will join them for dinner,” X-37 said.
“What? Okay, sure,” I said. “Jelly, is there any reason you need me to stay on the bridge at this moment?”
“James Henshaw is attempting to hail you from the Lady Faith,” Jelly advised.
“In that case, advise Elise and Tom that I will be joining them for dinner and will get back with Henshaw later,” I said.
“The hail is marked as mildly urgent,” Jelly explained.
“Yeah, well, I’m mildly uninterested. Whatever he has to say, it will wait,” I said and went to the galley. All of a sudden, I was very hungry.
Conspiring to destabilize the Union by building an army to engage in guerrilla warfare worked up an appetite.