16


When the dream started, I was running through the metal trenches of Dreadmax. Red Skull gangsters chased me in their noisy vehicles. They fired heavy machine guns into every side alley and doorway. I kept looking back for Elise, but she wasn’t there. X-37 told me again and again that she could never fall that far behind because she was a better runner than I was.
So I looked forward, looked ahead, scanned the future for a safe haven. With no warning or transition, the place became Boyer 5. I ran faster because I was smaller, just a kid, but the place was strange because there were no people in it at all. Rows and rows of tenement buildings and graffiti covered transits systems looked as though they hadn’t been used for years.
My mother sounded worried. My sense of urgency grew every time I turned a corner and found a strange street I’d never been on. Vines grew up the sides of buildings, and mysteries lurked in the alleys like shadowy ghosts. Clouds of rust drifted down from a monorail I remembered from the neighborhood I grew up in.
“Reaper Cain,” X-37 said. “Are you dreaming or just being difficult.”
I stopped and looked around. One building in the distance was filled with light. The really strange thing about the towering structure was that it reached the clouds, stabbing upward toward the sky like a beam of energy. Every level was full of activity. A glowing apartment building that might have been a starship of Xad landed on the surface of a green planet.
Boyer 5 was gone. In my heart, I felt as though Dreadmax had never been. A field of purple and yellow flowers covered the ground from me to the vibrant new buildings that had once traveled through dozens of slip tunnels as part of the exodus fleet.
I looked behind me, unsure why there was a need to look back, and saw two Union stealth carriers moored on the side of a mountain with a team of people stripping it for parts.
What I needed was for X-37 to tell me that my family and friends and allies were all safe in their new home. I felt like everything was better, like I had done right by Elise and the others. But there was no way to know for sure while my limited artificial intelligence was squawking about something entirely irrelevant to this scene.
“Reaper Cain, you have slept one hundred and fifteen percent of your rest phase,” X-37 said. “If you do not respond I will be forced to conduct a thorough medical evaluation.”
Opening my eyes, I felt the reality of my cabin on the Bright Lance and wondered if I shouldn’t be back on the Jellybird. “I’m awake, X. And for the record, I don’t even know what kind of thorough medical evaluation you could do that you don’t do all the time anyway. Isn’t half your job monitoring my biometrics?”
“I was improvising since my other encouragements were not having an effect,” X-37 said. “My next option was to use a rather loud and annoying noise to bring you around.”
“Is there an emergency?” I asked.
X-37 clicked a few times. “There is not, Reaper Cain. The entire fleet is doing remarkably well and is pulling resources from the volcano planet of Macabre.”
“Then why would you wake me up?” I started thinking about the dream, only now realizing how strange it had been. On the surface, it seemed a very obvious pointer to the future. The combined fleet of Xad and Wallach had conquered incredible obstacles. We’d retrieved the codes to awaken my mother and sister, and they seemed healthy and were recovering well.
The future looked pretty good for us. Being a Reaper, I had a hard time with success and safety. I was trained to always look for danger, often seeking it out, and always neutralize it if it threatened me, my mission, or my friends and family.
The monstrosities Ayers had created bothered me and I wasn’t sure, but I thought that might’ve been where the nightmare started. Something kept me from remembering those images.
“There are two reasons,” X-37 said. “First, you have slept longer than needed. My protocols are to keep you healthy and avoid unnecessary downtime. Secondly, there have been several messages from your friends inquiring of your welfare. Perhaps these made it into your rest cycle.”
I processed all of this information as I fought out of the haze of sleep. At the same time, I did a quick walk-through of my small cabin, checking for anything that looked out of the ordinary. The chances of there being an intruder or any type of danger were virtually nil, but that was what I did.
I jumped in the shower, not waiting for it to warm up. “What do you think about a beer?”
“That is normally part of your end of the day ritual, and I think it would be strange for you to start your morning in this manner,” X-37 said.
“Are you judging me, X?”
“I would never dream of it,” X-37 said. “And if I did, my analysis suggests it would have zero effect on your behavior.”
“You’ve got that right, X,” I said as numbers appeared in the wall above the nozzle. “Ah, come on, X. You didn’t turn off the timer?”
“It is against regulations,” X-37 said. “And in case you have forgotten, the combined fleet is far beyond any charted system. It is unknown when we will have a chance to acquire new resources.”
“Water is not that hard to find,” I said.
“That is a dangerous assumption, Reaper Cain. I believed from your earlier conversations with Captain Younger that you respect her decisions and her rules for the ship. I took the liberty of removing all of the rule breaking hacks you had me install when we first checked into this cabin,” X-37 said.
“That’s great, X,” I muttered. “You do realize that I’m not completely rinsed off?”
“I suggest a towel dry.”
“What are we doing, camping? Good thing I didn’t try to drink a beer in there. I would’ve had to chug it.”
It didn’t take me long to finish up my morning rituals and head out into the Bright Lance. What I found was a complete surprise. There were people from Wallach, Xad, and even some of the Union turncoats crowding the hallways and public areas of the ship. They seemed to be having a party.
“What the hell is happening on this ship?” I asked.
“It is what is commonly known as a celebration. The success on Macabre has inspired the people of Xad and Wallach to good cheer, or that is what my database suggests. Every ship in the fleet has declared a holiday.”
I moved through one hallway after another, frequently running into happy groups of people drinking some type of nonalcoholic beverage. X-37 explained that there were only a few areas where inebriation was allowed.
“Someone needs to teach these people how to party.” I headed for the observation deck.
“My analysis suggests you are the wrong person for this task,” X-37 said. “I did a quick search of your conversations with Elise, and she has told you one hundred and thirty-seven times that you are no fun.”
“I’m fun.” I scowled at a group of people who were in my way and didn’t even realize it. There wasn’t anything to do but wait for them to unclog the intersection before I could proceed.
“Yes, of course, Reaper Cain. You are a barrel of laughs,” X-37 said.
“Sarcasm detected.”
“I do aim to please,” X-37 said, almost sounding smug if that was even possible for a limited artificial intelligence.
“I need to check your personality algorithm. It seems to be drifting a little bit.”
X-37 responded immediately. “I will run a complete and thorough scan.”
I understood X’s concern and wished I hadn’t mentioned he was drifting. Upsetting the emotionless LAI was impossible, but I still didn’t want to do it, like that made sense, but whatever. There were strict rules about sentience, or even the strong appearance of sentience, in artificial or limited artificial intelligences. We were far beyond the reach of the Union, but the laws that governed my digital friend were internal. If he crossed the line, the shutdown could happen before either of us realized it was happening.
The observation deck of the Bright Lance was packed. I moved through the crowd with skill. It was one of the less glamorous things a Reaper learned during the espionage curriculum. Many covert missions required navigation of social settings and it was best not to alarm everyone by pushing and shoving.
I settled for a small table near the viewing wall, which was a holographic display of extreme clarity. People watched a mock dogfight between Xad, Wallach, and Union fighters.
Two micro-fighters were dominating the contest, zigging and zagging all over the place but always working as a team and always winning. They fired some sort of display ordinance, rounds that glowed with their own light for the sake of the spectators. I’d seen all kinds of rockets, tracer rounds, and energy weapons, but nothing like this.
The event was pure spectacle.
“Where is Elise, X?” I asked, crossing my arms.
“It’s funny that you should mention that, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said. “She quickly teamed up with Path during the dogfight challenge. As expected, they are winning easily but may not rack up enough points to take the contest before they run out of fuel.”
I viewed rows of statistics going down one side of the wall. Shaking my head, I disagreed with my limited artificial intelligence. “At this rate, they can take a break to refuel, get back in the fight, and still win.”
“This is a possibility, but it will require them to perform each operation to near perfection, and while Elise and Path practice many things, they have not always focused on refueling and re-equipping their micro-fighters,” X-37 said.
“Is there a betting pool?” I asked.
“There is,” X-37 said. “Henshaw has placed a variety of bets, not all of them under his own name, but the largest portion is against Elise and Path winning. My analysis suggests that is because the odds and potential payoff are much greater if they lose. Tom has also placed a modest bet on Elise and Path, possibly out of loyalty.”
Someone in the crowd recognized me, pointed, and shouted to their friends. Before long, I had a problem.
“It’s the Reaper!” the instigator said.
“Get out there and show them how it’s done, Reaper!” several other people shouted. Some cheered this idea, others booed it.
I waved them off. “I don’t want to mess up the pool. And ship to ship combat isn’t my strong point.”
“Are you serious?” another person asked.
“Maybe next time.” I fended off questions, spending more time arguing with my new friends than watching Elise and Path dogfight. The scene was incredible. In addition to the contest, there were ships flying in all kinds of formations—easily staying away from the more dynamic action. We were only able to see everything due to the powerful magnification and computer recreations of what was far beyond normal visual range.
“If you’re interested, Reaper Cain, there are other betting pools. It seems that the people of Xad and Wallach are also having a contest for the most impressive space parade,” X-37 said. “It is quite wonderful.”
“How about you find me a quiet place where I can relax, maybe with a viewing terminal I can use to keep track of Elise?” I asked.
“There are numerous maintenance bays and other facilities available. Only the bare minimum of crew members are still working, a good portion of them being security and critical staff.”
The idea appealed to me, but I was eventually able to draw back from all the attention and just watch without leaving the observation deck. Elise had always been a natural learner and was especially well suited for operating a micro-fighter. Her progress was amazing. With the Archangel armor integrated into the tiny ship, she was a force to be reckoned with. What really struck me was that I could actually see her improving during this contest.
“She’ll be better than Path soon,” I said.
“That is my analysis as well,” X-37 said.